Clipped Wings

Warbler

There are rules to your captivity, though they're unwritten and unspoken. It takes a while for you to figure them out.

Hawks seems like the more laidback of your captors. He's always cheerful when he sees you, which is more often than the teacher-cum-hero Aizawa. Hawks makes his own hours, so he's able to stop by on long breaks to check on you.

His main rule is: Do not ignore him. Ignoring him once got you three days without food. You were weak enough by the end that you let him pet your hair as you ate from the plate he brought.

Slowly, he's inuring you to his touch, too.

Rule two for Hawks is that you're supposed to call him Keigo. He'll ignore you if you use his hero name.

Aizawa has more rules, is far more strict than the winged hero.

You're not supposed to curse. He will remove your ability if you get too bad.

You should call him 'Shouta' or 'sir.' Calling him things like 'dickhead' makes him threatren to punish you. He's yet to do more than bind you with his scarf, but you know it's a matter of time.

When he brings you food, you eat it all. He has Hawks skip a meal if you don't since you're "clearly not hungry."

Do not swat his hand away when he touches you. In fact, don't fight his touch at all.

This is the hardest one to take; his touch makes your skin crawl. But he will bind you and do more if you fight him on it.

So far, neither hero has taken it further than petting your hair or stroking a wing; you know it's only a matter of time. Eventually, they'll push for more. You can see it in their eyes, both hungry and hanging on your every twitch.

Since Aizawa works two jobs, you see him every few days. Thus far, you've yet to deal with them together.

That changes one afternoon roughly a week and a half into your unwilling stay.

You have just finished showering, blow drying your wings and hair with a an air blower installed beside the sink. It's ingenius, larger than those for hands, and it doesn't get as hot. It ruffles your feathers more than you like, but you take your time preening them afterward— what you can reach, anyway. You don't have the back scratcher you used at home to help with those feathers at the base, but at least you can handle the majority of the brilliant plum and pink and white plumage.

"You know, I could help you with that." You pause in your grooming and thank the gods that you've thrown on the low-backed little dress you found in the closet. It's one of the more covering outfits you've been provided and you have a feeling by the sheer amount of red shades that Hawks is responsible.

Said hero stands in the doorway grinning at you.

"No. I have it handled," you reply shortly.

The door opens wider to reveal Aizawa. "There's no way you can reach the tertials up by your shoulders, little bird. Let him help."

"What do you know about preening feathers?" you sneer.

He shrugs. "I've done my research." Aizawa steps inside and shuts the door behind the pair. When did Hawks get so close. "Now, do I have to tie you up or..."

You freeze and glance between them, but say nothing. You do not want to be bound while they're both in here with you.

The silence must be enough, because Hawks sits on the edge of the bed and directs you to turn your back to him. He smooths over the radius and down the phalanx, then behind slowly setting the feathers at the base to rights.

It would feel good if it weren't him doing it.

Fingers comb through your hair and you startle. You didn't notice Aizawa sidling up, not while the other was at your back and you were hyperfixated on his touch.

"Relax, sweetheart. Nothing's happened," he mutters in that gravelly voice of his.

"You're both touching me," you retort.

Hawks hums. "Isn't it nice? Just two guys spoiling our girl."

"I'm not your girl."

Aizawa clicks his tongue. "You are. That's why you're here."

"I'm here because you're both—" The scarf wraps around your mouth before you can finish the sentence. You glare at him with all the fury filling your heart. You're a caged bird, their own little pet, and it's galling.

There was a time when you were claustrophobic. It was until your mid-teens. Your parents attributed it to your quirk and maybe it was, but you'd thought you were completely past that nervous panic that would loom over you whenever you were in a small enough space. You felt trapped, like everything would close in and constrict you, hamper your wings, make escape impossible.

You feel like that now.

"Stop." The fingers tighten in your hair, a fist holding your head in place. Aizawa stands in front of you, staring down with pinched brows. "Stop fighting us. Stop panicking. If you just let go, everything would be so much better for you."

You can't shake your head, but you try.

His fist tightens. "Yes." His fist shakes. "You can. You need to be a good girl and accept your new life."

Tears— of pain or of frustration— fill your eyes. They tremble hotly on the edge of your lids and slide down your face only when they're cool.

Warm breath puffs on your throat and your wings are slightly pressed against your back as Hawks says, "You can do it, finch. You can be our good little lovebird. It will be so good. We'll make you feel so good." He rubs his lips against your skin. "Spring is here and I want to show you how much I need you."

Shit, what month is it? Is it March, April? Your mating season is pretty much here and Hawks is already in the thick of his.

Panic suffuses your veins. You start to thrash.

In a blink, Hawks has rolled you onto your back and he's on top. Aizawa has his hands around your wrists and sits at the top of the bed, pressing them down.

"Behave," Aizawa growls. "You need this. Your body temperature has been rising every day since you arrived and you rearrange the bed every morning. It's mating season?"

You scream through the scarf and flop your head from one side to the other in denial, but they're right. You feel it. Normally by now you'd be cutting down on work in order to tend to your needs, perhaps finding someone who doesn't mind hooking up for a few months before you go your separate ways. There are enough animal-quirk types who breed in spring that it's not too difficult.

Your current situation had pushed that from your mind, but it all comes rushing back as you pant beneath the two men.

"That's right." Hawks coos as you start to cry in earnest. "That's our pretty bird. Just accept that this is happening and let yourself enjoy it. What a lucky little chicky you are, too, two mates. Two mates to feed you and groom you and bring you presents. To take care of our babies. We're gonna be so good to you, finch." He presses himself against you and you feel his hardness against your core.

Your stomach churns.