TWs: cursing, death threats, stalking (TWs and tags will be updated along the way)
557 words
Reader takes on the role of someone most often referred to as "the man" who has become the league's newest recruitment target. Dominant, unshakable, and kind of an asshole; the man is nothing but secrets.
Dabi calls him Fishhook. Toga calls him needle. Shigaraki calls him trouble wrapped up in a handsome, easily digestible package. How many nicknames are there for one heavily pierced man? Let's find out.
quirk:
Liquid Metal -- the ability to manipulate metal as though it is liquid or moldable when in physical contact with said metal
reader works at a tattoo and piercing parlor and is described as having many piercings, including angel fangs, a middle lower lip ring, an industrial bar, a helix, and a central tongue piercing as well as numerous unspecified ear piercings.
Chapter 1 -- "first encounter"
The night air was cold, and the slightly damp wood of the bench caused goosebumps to prickle across the man’s skin. He rubbed his palms up and down his arms quickly, trying to smooth away the discomfort.
“…and that’s why it was really hard because–”
“You need to go home.”
His friend bristled at his cold tone and stared with a hurt expression, the sides of their lips tugged downwards as their eyes narrowed.
He steeled, running a hand through his hair as he rushed to correct himself. “I apologize, let me try that again.” He did his best to put all his focus on the person in front of him, not allowing his gaze to wander to the object of his sudden anxiety.
They nodded, so he continued, “What I meant to say was “It’s getting pretty late, and I just remembered that I have to meet with a friend on my way home to help with some piercing care.” ”
Satisfied, his friend nodded and stood, brushing off any dirt that could have gotten stuck to them from sitting on the wet bench.
Dabi smirked, looking smugly at his heavily pierced target. He was unable to hear most of what the two were saying, but he accurately interpreted that the man would be alone soon. If he wasn’t going to be too much of a pain in the ass, Dabi might actually deem him fuckable.
He watched as the larger of the two ordered his friend an uber, ignoring their insistence that they could walk home or at least pay him back.
Once the friend had left, Dabi took several steps towards the other man, not bothering to hide the crunch of his boots on the gravel of the path. Without turning to face him, the other quickly pulled out his phone, and the flame user was about to react when the man finally spoke, tone dry and cold.
“Chill out, man, I’m not calling the cops. I’m texting my friend to make sure they got home safe.”
Dabi’s movements stilled. He had never been talked to like that by a civilian. Maybe he didn’t know who he was?
He was proven somewhat correct when his target finally pocketed his phone and turned around.
Wide eyes met Dabi’s. His lip quirked, satisfied with the more typical reaction. That’s more like it.
Then he rolled his eyes and Dabi fought to keep the confident smirk on his face as the others’ returns to one of practiced neutrality. He looked almost bored.
“So, you’re the creep that’s been lurking in the shadows. Care to elaborate?”
Now he let the overconfidence fall away as he glared in annoyance.
“You’re coming with me, or my friends will be paying your friend a nice little visit,” he practically growled.
His eyebrows rose, but nodded, taking a step forward to walk beside the villain as he led him out of the park, Dabi’s hands at his sides despite them normally being shoved into his pockets.
After several minutes of silence, the man broke the tension, “It was kinda fucken stupid that you let me do that, I could have been sending a distress signal for all you know.”
Dabi’s expression hardened and he snatched the phone.
There was no text for help, only a smirk reflected in the glass of the screen.
Want more? Want the SMUT??? Read here: they call him fishhook
here's more until I can write again. enjoy my promotional posting for now lol
Of all the secrets Hawks had been ordered to keep - his name, his lineage, his true reason for becoming a hero, his kill count - there’s one that’s been drilled harder than the rest. One that, if spilled, would put Hawks in more danger than any mission.
Winged Hero: Hawks, Japan’s most eligible bachelor and number two hero, was an omega.
So, it’s no surprise that Madam President’s latest mission for Hawks comes as a shock.
Word count: 5842
Part: 3/?
(Part 2)
Rating: Mature
~~~
Hand around his cock, Hawks stroked himself faster, chasing a release that still refused to come.
He bit down on the corner of his jacket to muffle a burst of frustration - half moan, half growl.
Where the hell was his alpha?
His pants clung to the inside of his thighs, soaked in slick and sweat, pulled down only enough to make room for his hand.
What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d never dealt with this alone, never unplanned, but it’s not like he’d never jerked off. It had to have been an hour already, why couldn’t he fucking cum?
He shifted on the floor, thrust up into his fist. Want curled in his gut. Throbbing. Aching. He imagined Dabi’s long fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking just the way Hawks needed to find relief. He imagined those fingers teasing his entrance, sliding inside. He bit down on his lip.
“Fuck,” he whimpered, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes. Were things different in heat without toys or partners? Was it different because he was mated?
“Fuck, Dabi ple-“
A wave of heat washed over Hawks, different from the all-consuming fire in his gut. Different from the hazy fog around him. It was comforting. Familiar.
His.
“Hey there, pretty bird.” Dabi’s voice was tight, but soothing, caressing Hawks’ every corner and setting him at ease.
He twisted over the parquet floor, hand slowing but not stopping. “Dabi?”
“Sorry,” Dabi said softly, boots crunching over the glass below the window, “I came as fast as I could, but I guess ten minutes is still a long time for an omega in heat. Especially you.”
Boots hit the floor, then a thump of fabric. Beside Hawks there was a shaky breath, then a hand in his hair, gently pushing it back from his forehead.
“Can I get you off the floor?”
“Please,” Hawks whined, curling toward Dabi and reaching for his hand. “I need to cum. Please.”
“You will.” Dabi slipped his arms under Hawks and cradled him as he stood. The heat of Dabi’s body, the faint scent, it was nowhere near enough for Hawks but soothing all the same. “Can you lift your wings a little for me first? I don’t want to drag them through the glass.”
Hawks complied. Anything to get to bed. To get Dabi on him, in him, scent and skin.
He nuzzled closer as Dabi peeked into one bedroom, then the next. “No nest?”
Any other day, shame would have spread under Dabi’s observation. Today though, there was room for nothing but need. Fisting Dabi’s threadbare tank top, Hawks again whined at the empty ache between his legs. It terrified him, how badly he craved Dabi. It exhilarated him.
Hawks’ back hit something soft, his wings flared over silk sheets. The low timber of Dabi saying something, laughing even, reached Hawks on some level - like background music he couldn’t quite place the lyrics to. It was comforting all the same, and the only reason he’d yet to tear the rest of their clothes off and take what he needed.
Vaguely aware of his own limbs, he felt his feet freed, then his legs. Cool air against Hawks’ slick damp thighs pebbled his skin.
“You smell incredible, you know that?” Dabi’s voice came from behind now as Hawks was sat up, his coat carefully pulled over his wings. “You’re such a good omega for me,” he praised as he removed Hawks’ compression shirt to leave him bare.
This slow show of care was as tender as it was torturous. “Dabi, please,” Hawks begged now, “I need you.”
“I know what you need.” Dabi was back in front of Hawks, dropping to his knees between Hawks’ legs. “I’ll take care of you, ok?”
Hawks had barely opened his mouth when a warm breath ghosted over his cock, and Dabi took him entirely in his mouth.
“D-Dabi!” Hawks gasped, his hips bucked up. “Wh- what are you doing?”
Dabi pulled off with a pop, blue eyes flickering with mischief. “Pleasing my omega.”
Hawks didn’t have a chance to protest, to tell Dabi exactly what it was he needed, before he was back in the hot, wet heat of Dabi’s mouth.
Pleasure pooled in his belly. His hands held the edge of the bed as he fell back, wings flared wide.
“I-I need,” Hawks tipped his head back. “Dabi, I need mo- ah!”
Holy shit Dabi’s tongue was long.
Hawks knew male omega weren’t large, but still, it should have been impossible for anyone’s tongue to lay tip to base and then some.
A jolt of pleasure zipped from cock to core.
But it still wasn’t enough.
“More.” He reached for Dabi’s hand. “That’s not enough, I need more. I need you.” He emphasized the last word.
Chuckling when he pulled off, again, Dabi motioned for Hawks to scoot up the bed to crawl on. “Impatient, are we?” Dabi pulled his tank top off, tossed it aside. Hawks’ stomach dropped as he watched the staples separating healthy and scarred skin pull tight with Dabi’s every move. “Dabi… your scars-“
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me.” Dabi unbuckled his belt, dropped his pants and kicked them away, but notably left his boxers on.
Hawks shook his head, not too far gone yet for concern to give him some clarity back, especially when he caught patches of angry red, traces of dried blood. Quietly, he asked, “does it hurt?”
Dropping to lay beside Hawks, Dabi shrugged. “Not a lot of nerve endings left there, pretty bird.” His finger trailed the groove of muscles down Hawks’ stomach. “And even if there were, it wouldn’t stop me from taking care of you.”
“But-“
“I thought you needed more,” he teased.
Something like a groan escaped the back of Hawks’ throat. Worry and want warped into a mess he couldn’t make sense of.
But Dabi could. Somehow.
Dabi’s fingers slid lower, past Hawks’ neglected cock, between his thighs. “So wet,” he breathed, body radiating heat beside Hawks.
“Dabi.”
“I know, I know.” Feather light, Dabi dragged his fingers back up, lubricating them with slick before he took over Hawks’ piss poor attempt at jerking off.
A moan slipped through Hawks’ lips as he curled in towards Dabi, desperate for more. “It’s not enough. I tried.”
“Well, now your alpha’s going to try.” Dabi pressed his lips to the scent gland on Hawks’ neck. “You’re going to cum this way first, and then, we’re going to talk.”
“Talk?” Hawks whined.
“Mhmm.”
Hawks was about to protest, to beg, plead, cry if that’s what it took, when Dabi twisted his wrist just right, dragged the scarred skin of his palm over the sensitive tip of Hawks’ cock and back down. The friction fueled the fire in Hawks’ gut.
“Fuck!”
“That it.” Dabi’s voice was a low rumble of power as he whispered, “cum for me, pretty bird.”
Dabi pulled Hawks closer, stroked faster, just on the rough side of pleasure. Something Hawks didn’t even know he liked until now. He kissed around Hawks’ scent gland until his teeth found the faint scar of his mating mark and rested gently on the skin.
“Fu- Dabi,” Hawks dug his fingers into Dabi’s shoulders, “I’m close.”
Another twist; a throb of pleasure right up to Hawks’ core. Dabi shifted on the bed, angled himself to sling a leg between Hawks’ and pressed their thigh glands together. Juniper and woodsmoke enveloped Hawks, amplified the molten need in his core, left room for nothing else.
“Cum for me,” Dabi said again, a command this time, but soft and inviting. Calling to the climax cresting in Hawks, coaxing it higher, and higher, and-
Hawks buried his face in Dabi’s chest, thrust into his fist, and came so hard there was nothing for him but pure, white bliss.
Cradled in Dabi’s arms, the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through Hawks’ body for longer than he cared to keep track of. Yet, it was still over far too quickly.
Bliss faded slowly, giving way to a clearer head now that his immediate need had been met. It wouldn’t last long, he knew. That voice was still present in his mind, and only slightly further back from his focus now, urging him to beg his alpha for more, reminding him he was far too empty. But it wasn’t louder than his growing worry over Dabi’s words.
Hawks leaned back slowly, and Dabi took that as his cue to roll to the side. It wasn’t far, still skin to skin, but Hawks still had to stifle a whine at the loss of heat. Of connection.
He followed, rolling to his side to look at Dabi and trying to figure out how to approach everything they needed to discuss in such a small window of clarity. The first orgasm of his heat may lend Hawks ten, maybe twenty minutes of clarity, but it was also like opening the floodgates and waiting for the tide to surge back in. He took a slow breath, braced himself for the things he needed to admit, and parted his lips.
“I know we don’t have a lot of time,” Dabi said softly before Hawks could speak. “But we need to talk first.” He brushed a lock of hair back from Hawks’ forehead.
Hawks nodded. “I’m sorry, I meant to come back after my call and explain everything about me and why we met and why I was pretending to be an alpha, but-“
Dabi pressed a finger to Hawks’ lips. “Not sure we have that much time.” He smiled, one of those rare, soft ones Hawks had come to covet over the last couple weeks.
“I need to know what you want from me.”
Hawks propped himself up on an elbow, adjusted his wings to drape over the edge of the bed behind. “What?”
“During your heat,” Dabi said, “what exactly do you want from me.”
Warmth flooded Hawks’ cheeks. “The, uh, normal stuff. Ya know?”
Dabi chuckled and shook his head. “No, I don’t. I want you to tell me what you want. What have” - his jaw flexed - “what have past partners done for you. What did you like or dislike?”
Guilt reared its ugly head in Hawks’ thoughts. Why… why did Dabi have to be so damn perfect when Hawks was anything but?
Hawks sighed and looked out the window past the slope of Dabi’s body. “I don’t really have anything specific. They just… spent heat with me, did what every omega needs.” He shrugged and forced himself to meet Dabi’s gaze. “Do you need to know more than that?”
Dabi frowned. “I’m not some random beta, Hawks. I’m not even some random alpha. I’m your alpha.” He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t have shut this topic down when you brought it up.”
Unhappy with the new sliver of space between them, Hawks scooted closer. “What?”
“That first time I scented you, you asked about protection.” Dabi’s voice wavered on the last word. He cleared his throat. “I moved the conversation away from it because” - he turned his face to the window, but not before Hawks caught a flush on healthy skin - “well, because I’ve, uh, I’ve never-
“Are you a virgin?” Hawks blurted before he could catch himself. His hand flew to cover his mouth, but as always, the damage was done.
Dabi’s head spun back to face Hawks so fast it nearly gave Hawks whiplash. “Of course not.” He scoffed. “And that’s not what I was getting at.”
Hawks bristled. Prickly heat swept through his veins, stung his eyes. Back came instinct’s voice, louder now, urging him to plead with his alpha for pleasure. Unable to tell if that was his heat talking or his hurt, Hawks pushed it back and rolled over. “Oh.”
Dabi swore. “Hawks, that’s not-“
“It’s fine,” Hawks snapped, pulling his wings tight to his back. This was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Of course Dabi had been with others. Hell, Hawks himself wasn’t even a virgin.
It was just a touchy subject to broach laying naked in bed with his nerves already a live wire waiting to spark and his mind muddied with need and guilt and worry over his first heat with an alpha. With his alpha.
He felt the bed shift, and the heat of Dabi’s chest against his wings.
“I’m sorry,” Dabi said, breath tickling Hawks’ neck. “I know this isn’t really the time for that talk, but we’ve done this all out of order and I just…” His arm slipped over Hawks’ waist. “I’m not good at any of this.”
Hawks couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up. “That makes two of us.”
Dabi hummed. His thumb rubbed warm circles over the curve of Hawks’ hip. “What I was going to say, was that I’ve never been with an omega.”
“When they were in heat?”
Dabi’s nose swept back and forth across Hawks’ neck as he shook his head. “No, not with an omega ever. Not even in rut.”
Unable to resist, Hawks asked, “what did you do then?”
“I rode it out alone most of the time. A few times with a beta.” His hand slid to Hawks’ stomach and splayed wide and warm. “That’s not really the point though.”
“What is?” Hawks closed his eyes, melted into Dabi’s hold.
“You.”
“Me?”
“Mhmmm.” Dabi warmed his hand, and for a beat something rumbled at the back of Hawks’ throat before he swallowed against it. “You wanted to talk about your heat, and I shied away from it because the thought of heat and… everything that comes with it terrified me.”
Dabi pulled Hawks a little closer, and amended, “terrifies, actually. It terrifies me.”
“Me too,” Hawks admitted, far more easily than he would have thought he could.
“But I wanted to try to do at least one thing right,” Dabi continued, voice dropping as he added, “not that I am.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve had you in my mouth and I have no idea what you really like. Hell, we haven’t even kissed yet and we both know where this is going to lead.”
Need throbbed low and insistent in his core. Was it wrong for Hawks to be a little turned on by how flustered Dabi sounded? Maybe that was the heat rolling back in, the haze creeping around the edge of his thoughts, the urge to seek more touch, more scent and skin from Dabi.
It would explain why the next words he blurted out were, “so kiss me then.”
Dabi was silent for a long moment, his body stone still until a low rumble of laughter vibrated through him into Hawks. “It’s that easy, huh?”
Hawks rolled to face Dabi. “None of this is easy, and I can’t tell you what I like because I have no idea.” He laid a hand on Dabi’s chest. “But I know I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. You’ve been dragged into this mess with me and have been nothing but understanding,” his voice cracked, “and it’s my fault everything’s wrong beca-“
The rest of his words were swallowed in Dabi’s kiss.
Hawks’ intent to explain things was quickly tossed aside in favor of their kiss. An easy decision, really; he hadn’t realized how badly he’d craved this until now.
A hand traveled down his back to the curve of his ass and pulled him closer as Dabi swiped his tongue over Hawks’ lips. Hawks opened, and despite their shared fumbling through this kind of intimacy, the kiss only intensified that wanting ache inside him. He needed Dabi, like he needed to feel the wind under his wings or the beat of Dabi’s heart as he lay on that damn cot so far from Hawks’ bed.
Dabi shifted them both, rolling Hawks onto his back slowly so he could adjust his wings.
Against his stomach, Hawks could feel how badly Dabi wanted this, and even like this, he could scent the desire that had to be consuming Dabi’s mind, but Dabi didn’t rush them. Hungry kisses turned into a softer exploration of Hawks’ neck, his collarbone, the sensitive space just below his ear. Holding his own want at bay, Dabi interlaced their fingers above Hawks’ head and nuzzled his scent gland.
Hawks couldn’t decide if he wanted to sob or surrender to his heat and let go.
“You’re okay,” Dabi whispered, “I’m gonna take care of you. Lemme just…” he kissed Hawks once more and rolled off.
The whine that left Hawks’ lips might have been embarrassing if he wasn’t already a mess of slick and sweat and near-tears.
And Dabi, the bastard, only laughed as he pulled his pants off the floor and dug into one of the pockets. “I’m getting there. Can’t forget this though.” He pulled out a condom and tore the wrapper open with his teeth as his freehand pulled off his boxers and tossed them aside.
Already halfway gone, Hawks’ mind emptied of everything but his own want and his alpha standing at the foot of the bed, bare and entirely capable of filling Hawks the way he needed and then some.
“Dabi,” he whined, past caring how pathetic he sounded.
Dabi rolled the condom on himself, and with an infuriating smirk that did nothing to soothe Hawks’ desire, climbed back on the bed. “I told you I’d take care of you. I meant that in every way.”
Hawks spread his legs, watched Dabi pull his lower lip between his teeth and guide himself through the slick to Hawks’ entrance, and stop.
Hawks might have whined again, or maybe pleaded, he couldn’t say. His body was on the verge of igniting, and there was little left of his rational mind. He tried to shift down closer to what he craved, but was stopped by Dabi’s hands holding him firmly in place.
Dabi’s lips moved, shaping around syllables that must have been concern given the furrow in his brow, but his words were lost in the roar of Hawks’ desire.
“Please, Dabi,” Hawks tried, “please I need you.”
A sigh, a small shake of the head and a smile, and then Dabi gave in.
Even this far gone, the difference between a beta and an alpha was obvious to Hawks, almost uncomfortably so at first. But Dabi seemed prepared for that, or maybe he was just that in tune with Hawks’ needs. He was slow, every thrust measured until Hawks’ discomfort turned into pleasure.
Whispering praises and sweet nothings like a prayer against Hawks’ skin, Dabi sank further in, moved faster, chased both of their release. One hand threaded through Hawks’ hair, smoothing it back, the other slipped under Hawks’ lower back to angle him closer, drive Dabi deeper.
High on Dabi’s scent and a sense of fulfillment Hawks had never once felt since he’d presented, he fisted the sheets. “Close, Dabi I’m close.”
“Can I knot you?” Dabi panted against Hawks’ neck, “please? I swear I won’t if you don’t want me to, but I’ve never- and you’re so-“
“Yes!” Hawks laughed, euphoric. Breathless as Dabi forced the air from his lungs with every snap of his hips, he pleaded, “please, yes.”
“Good omega,” Dabi said, “such a good omega for me.” His lips found Hawks’ scent gland, teased the area with feather light kisses before his teeth took over, sinking in just enough to add a bite of pain to Hawks’ pleasure. Dabi’s knot swelled, a pressure to rival the throbbing desire in Hawks’ core. Another thrust, a gasp of hot air against Hawks’ skin, and Hawks was driven to the edge, nails digging into Dabi’s shoulders.
“Cum with me pretty bird,” Dabi breathed, sounding utterly wrecked as he buried himself deep in Hawks and took them both over.
Hawks’ cry of ecstasy was swallowed by a kiss as Dabi’s knot locked him in place. He came, scent flooding Hawks and leaving behind nothing but rolling waves of pleasure and thoughts of
Dabi
Dabi
Dabi
as Hawks drifted off into the rapture of experiencing heat the way he was meant to for the first time, and the knowledge that he would never need to settle for less again.
~~~
Hawks first heat off suppressants and schedules was short but “ravenous”, as Dabi told him, more than once, when Hawks was lucid enough for conversation and food and water and the gentle cleaning in between it all that Dabi insisted Hawks not lift a finger or feather for.
It was nearly thirty-six hours spent being cared for in a way Hawks never imagined he could be.
But reality came crashing back in far too fast.
By the third day, Hawks up and active again, helping strip the sheets for the wash and dressing in sweats and a shirt Dabi had scented for him.
Hands loaded with sheets and pillowcases while Dabi was busy in the kitchen, Hawks toed open the closet doors to his laundry and sighed. Rational thought had the reins again and while he knew there were far more pressing things to worry about, he couldn’t stop himself from lamenting the need to wash his bedding. For the first time in his life, the sheets held his scent - citrus and fresh air and a new hint of cloves he’d never known his scent held before.
Hawks brought the bundle closer to his nose. Dabi’s scent was there under it all too, but rather than smothering Hawks’ like most alphas would, Dabi’s scent served only to sharpen Hawks’, to intensify it. It added, rather than took, and all Hawks could think then, was how fucking cruel it was for Dabi to be stuck with him of all the omega out there.
He shoved the sheets into the top loader, blinking against the heat in his eyes.
Dabi was a good guy, fuck, a great guy. He’d been gentle and caring and understanding with Hawks, even when he didn’t deserve it. The first person to call out the Commission’s way of raising him, Dabi had been the only one who’d pushed Hawks to see himself as more than a tool. He’d even made sure to bring goddam condoms, all because Hawks had mentioned it once.
The sheets caught on the agitator; Hawks tore them away with enough force to rip.
Villain or not, Dabi was good for Hawks. But the opposite wasn’t true, and it had never been more obvious.
Hawks wiped the corner of his eyes and tried to pull the now truly stuck sheet back out.
Dabi deserved so much better than an omega who’d only come to him as bait in a trap. He deserved someone who could offer him as much as he gave, someone who could help him achieve… whatever it was he wanted in life. Aside from murder, of course.
Selfishly, Hawks did want to be that person.
He took a slow breath, pretended not to see the little tear spots speckled across gray sheets, and untangled the bedding from the agitator slowly.
Maybe he could be. He had already made up his mind; he’d been ready to tell Dabi everything before that call for help and his heat had swept him away. There was no way he would let the Commission take Dabi now anyways, and it wasn’t because of the sex.
Well, it wasn’t just the sex, which was well worth every ache in his muscles today, and had only been made better when, in those moments of quiet post-sex clarity, Dabi had curled around Hawks like a human-sized heating pad and held him until his heat demanded more again.
The biggest reason though, was much simpler.
Hawks was going to save Dabi from the Commission’s fate because he wanted to.
For Dabi and for himself.
Pulling the ripped sheets out and chucking them in the trash, Hawks had just closed the washer and wiped the last of his frustration from the corner of his eyes, when warm arms wrapped around his middle, and a low voice rumbled against his wings. “What’s wrong?”
Hawks smiled, less irritated with Dabi’s ability to scent his mood than before, and leaned back. “Nothing now. I do need to talk to you though.”
Dabi’s head dropped to the curve of Hawks shoulder. “What about?”
“Me. Why I was looking for you. Why I was pretending to be an alpha. Why the Commission-“
The doorbell rang.
Hawks stiffened.
“Don’t worry, it’s just takeout.” Dabi kissed Hawks’ neck and let go. “You had like, nothing that wasn’t expired in the cupboards and I was craving soba.”
Hawks rolled his eyes and followed Dabi to the door. “I haven’t exactly been home to cook.”
“Can you cook?” Dabi teased, shooting a wink over his shoulder.
“… Yes?”
“Uh huh.” Dabi unlocked the deadbolt. “Well, let’s eat and then you can tell me what had you so upset and what I can do to help… and then we’ll discuss your potential culinary-“
The door exploded inward in a barrage of razor-sharp wooden shrapnel.
Hawks stumbled back, reacted too slowly. Shards whizzed by, shredding his arm closest to the door, lodging deep in the meat of his shoulder, his hip.
Pain came next, a hot iron shoved straight into his skin.
Then came adrenaline, smothering all else as his instincts finally kicked in. An army of feathers detached and shot to the door, only to be swallowed in a blaze of fire. He shouted to Dabi and met his gaze through the smoke. Rage burned bright in blue eyes. Dabi lifted a hand to the door, let loose a bolt of fire and launched himself towards Hawks.
A second explosion. This one from the windows behind.
But Hawks was ready this time. A feather yanked Dabi the rest of the way to Hawks’ side and his wings shielded them both from the spray of glass. He launched another volley of feathers at the window, but struck… nothing?
Who the hell was-
“Hawks, we need to go.” Swinging a hand in front of him, Dabi created a wall of fire between them and their attackers. “Now.”
“But-“
“Now!” Dabi roared, fisting Hawks’ shirt and pulling him back down the hall toward the bedrooms. Pops of exploding overhead lights followed them.
Dabi blasted his way through the bedroom door, met the third explosion. His body collided with Hawks, Hawks with the drywall behind. Stars burst in his vision.
Overwhelmed by the roar of fire, the crackle of electricity shorting and shattering glass, Hawks struggled to focus. He’d trained for this kind of attack on his input before, mastered the skill of shutting out everything but his target, but fresh off his heat and hardly expecting to be attacked in his own fucking home, that training came back frustratingly slow.
He sent another round of feathers into the room but lost them to a haze of pink rolling in from the gaping hole to his bedroom.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
He shook Dabi, who sat eerily still beside him in the hall. “We need to go.”
Dabi didn’t respond.
“Dabi?” Hawks shook Dabi harder. Pain flayed his skin wide open from shoulder to fingertips every time the wood splinters scraped his nerves. “Dabi, come on, get up. We need to go, you’ve gotta wake-“
“Go where?”
Hawks froze.
No. No, no, no.
She couldn’t be here.
The fire in the living space flickered out, and through the smoke stepped Madam, looking entirely at home in the wreckage of Hawks’ apartment. “Go on.” Security personnel formed a wall on either side of her. “I can only assume you mean go to Tartarus, that is your mission after all.” Madam President brushed the dust from her skirt. “This isn’t exactly how I thought you’d accomplish it, but results are results.” She nodded to one of the guards beside her. They pulled a pair of quirk-canceling cuffs from their belt. “You’ve done well, Hawks. It’s time to stand down.”
The guard advanced; a feather shot the cuffs out of his hand, sent them sliding through the debris littering the wood floors.
Dabi mumbled something unintelligible, but Hawks’ focus remained dead ahead.
“There’s no need for that,” Madam said far too calmly. “I know your emotions are high so soon after heat, but we can discuss the conjugal visits once you’ve calmed down.”
Hawks’ wings expanded to block Dabi, his feathers sharpened.
Sighing, Madam President turned to someone behind her. Hawks’ own pulse muffled their conversation.
Madam President turned back to him. “Your mission is officially over, Hawks. Stand down,” she ordered, like he was nothing but a dog refusing to give up its favorite toy.
Yet, all he could manage was a single sharp shake of his head.
Heat swelled at his back, aggravating his cuts, but instinct told him the bigger threat was still ahead, and there was no taking his eyes off it.
Something small was passed through the guards from back to front, a cartridge was loaded into their guns. It was now or never, Hawks needed to move. To act on his decision.
But his muscles remained locked in place.
“Last chance, Hawks.” The guns cocked. “Remember you’re still a hero, but only if you back down now.”
The warm hand laid flat against Hawks’ back was his trigger.
He fired first, taking down the front row of guards as he spun, hooked his arms under Dabi’s, and shot them through the mist. His wings snagged on the jagged edges of the hole in his bedroom wall as they tore away. Adrenaline dammed his pain out of reach.
Through his lost feathers, he heard Madam curse and call out to all available units in the area. The connection was severed abruptly.
But he didn’t have time to wonder why. If that pink mist was anything like last time, he had only seconds before pain would send them into a two-hundred-meter free fall to the streets below. They needed safety. Secrecy. Somewhere the HPSC wouldn’t think to look while they recovered.
Hawks reached the edge of the city faster than he thought possible and landed them between two buildings leaning precariously close to one another.
He managed to get Dabi’s arm around his shoulder, despite the lack of feeling in his fingers, and settled a feather against the pulse point on his neck. It was strong. Steady.
Hawks would have wept with relief if he had the time.
He pulled them into the first open door he found, using feathers to help bear Dabi’s dead weight, and sent others to scout their surroundings. They couldn’t go back to the PLF mansion, and seeking safety from another hero was out of the question, especially if that mist had the…
Hawks stopped in front of what must have been an old junkie hideout, trying to avoid stepping on the glass and debris and things he didn’t want to name with his bare feet.
Why was he still standing? Why hadn’t the pain doubled him over like last time? He stewed over it as they slowly made their way up one floor. Then two. Then all the way to the sixth floor where he found a room that wasn’t as badly trashed as the rest. There was a couch in this one that looked mostly intact, the best they were going to find at the moment.
Settling Dabi on the half of the couch that still had cushions, Hawks ran on autopilot as he finished checking the building, bringing back anything that could be used for first aid or food or water, and checking on Dabi’s wounds.
Most seemed superficial: a cut across his brow, one hidden under dark locks of surprisingly thick hair, a few along his arms. There was a welt growing on the back of his head (courtesy of the second explosion, Hawks was sure), several missing staples and bloody seams, but Hawks knew what he couldn’t see could be so much worse.
When he was certain he’d collected every clean(ish) cloth in this building and the next, he recalled his feathers, wet the rags, and set to work wiping away as much blood as he could. When he finished, he tipped Dabi’s head up to get a few sips of water in, checked his pulse again, and then, there was nothing to do for him but wait.
Listening to Dabi’s steady breathing, Hawks took a seat on the floor and set to work on his own wounds as he replayed the attack.
The pink mist hadn’t done a damn thing. Either he’d built and immunity to it last time, or it was a feint to make him feel trapped. He’d bet his life on the last option.
Jaw set, he carefully extracted the wooden shards from his hip, then the two from his shoulder.
If the mist was a feint, that meant the Commission knew what had happened on his last call. Hell, they’d probably sent the villain.
He tied a cloth around his arm, used his teeth to pull it tight.
And a feint meant - he emptied another water bottle to wet the last clean cloth and dabbed at his other wounds, hissing at the pain - it meant they’d induced his heat - a practice that had been outlawed for centuries and was almost always punished with life in prison these days. Of course, he knew the HPSC had ways around those kinds of sentences; hell, he’d done things for them that were equally as punishable. But until now - bile burned his throat - until it had been him they were against, he’d never thought twice about what they’d asked of him.
He whipped the empty water bottle across the room and leaned back against the couch.
Some fucking hero he was.
Tipping his head back to rest against Dabi’s uninjured arm, he huffed. There was so much to unpack between them already. Things Dabi may not even forgive Hawks for. Adding a crisis of conscience on top of it all was like adding kindling to a bonfire. He’d lied, betrayed, used, and whatever the hell else Dabi wanted to tack on, and he couldn’t even say it was for a cause he believed in anymore.
He closed his eyes. They were so damn heavy.
Sleep was a horrible idea right now, Hawks knew that of course, but his adrenaline high had worn off and his body knew nothing but pain and exhaustion now. The battle for consciousness had been lost the moment he’d sat down, really.
Hawks did what he could, sending feathers to every entrance of their room, scattering a few around the building, laying one carefully over Dabi’s heart and another over his wrist, and hoped that would be enough.
And that Dabi would be there and willing, not to forgive - Hawks didn’t deserve that much - but to at least hear him out, when they both woke up.
A hot dynamite blonde wiggles in his lab, real and strong and lips a brand on Dabi's throat. Bakugou has free range to maul, to bite and suck dark bruises on the underside of Dabi's jaw. He is fearless, uncaring about the rough texture of Dabi's leathery scars as he trails down Dabi's jugular. Bakugou's tongue slides curiously lower to Dabi's staples and pauses at the metallic connectors.
He licks them, eyes open on Dabi. Waiting. Watching for a reaction.
After several minutes of silence, the man broke the tension, “It was kinda fucken stupid that you let me do that, I could have been sending a distress signal for all you know.”
Dabi’s expression hardened and he snatched the phone.
There was no text for help, only a smirk reflected in the glass of the screen.
--or--
Fishhook is a normal man with a normal job running an underground tattoo shop. Sure, some of his clients happen to be Yakuza members, and sure, a couple are part of the Eight Bullets, but that’s none of his business. He just wants the money.
Unfortunately, Shigaraki believes that the identities of his clients are absolutely Fishhook’s business. Great. Now he’s being kidnapped.
want to fuck with the league? want to fuck the league? i gotchu
