#quirkless!au

When you’re closing, he stays until you leave. You don’t find it weird at all. He has this aura about him that just makes you feel safe. He makes you feel at peace, happy even.

It’s been raining for the past week and you have been dreading closing, but you needed the money since your roommate had moved out. You were on the hunt for a new one, but didn’t have any bites yet.  

“Excuse me sir,” you say to the very handsome,blonde haired man

“Yes, hummingbird,” he says looking into your eyes, each yours with his

“Um, we’re closing, s-so I have to ask you to leave,” you say nervously.

“That’s alright,” he says with a soft smile,“you have a Goodnight baby bird. Get home safe and be careful out there with all that rain.”

“Th-thank you sir,” you reply,still nervous

“Enough of the sir business, please call me Hawks”

“Yes si-I mean Hawks”

“Good girl,” he says in a low voice, then pats your head

He made his way out the door and towards his car. It was a blacked out Audi R8. He waved to you before he pulled off and you gave a small wave back.

You noticed there was man sitting in a corner booth. He was a regular, but he never came this late.You noticed the scent of liquor as you got closer to him.

“Sir,” you say tapping his shoulder

“Hey gorgeous,” he says drunkly

“Sir, we’re closing. I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” you say nicely, but firm

“I’ll leave... if you give me your number and let me take you out,” he says grabbing your hand

“Sir, I’m not allowed to fraternize with guests and that includes dating them,” you say pulling your hand out of his

“C’mon beautiful. You always treat me well when I come in and I see the way you look at me. You think I don’t notice, but I do. You want me,” he says standing over you

You mentally roll your eyes

“Sir, that’s just me doing my job. It’s called courtesy and being respectful. I’m going to have to ask you to leave now”

“C’mon stop denying it. You and I both want this. I know it, you know, so c’mon. Let me take you out,” he says going to grab your arm, but you back up

“Sir, this is the last time I’m going to ask you. Please leave,” you say in a slightly pissed off tone

“Look, I’m not screwing around,” he says finally grabbing you

WARNING: ATTEMPTED ASSAULT HAPPENS IN NEXT PARAGRAPH, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SCROLL PAST IF THAT IS SOMETHING THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE/IS TRIGGERING!

You try to pull away, but this time his grip is much stronger in you. He pushes you into the corner booth and forces you to lay down. He lowers himself to kiss you, but the door swings open causing his attention to go there.

“Well, well, well... what’s going on here? That’s no way to treat a lady, sir” he says smiling

“Stay out of this, it has nothing to do with you,” the customer says,still hovering over you

“Oh, it very much does sir cause ya see, I don’t really care for people disrespecting women in any way, but especially if it’s her.”

“Tch. Get lost before I have you limping out of here”

“Sir, you’re the one that’s probably not gonna make it out of here”

“You think you’re tough. Go ahead and try. I’ll lay you out right here,” the customer says finally getting off you

You’re able to sit up and see that it was Hawks who came to your aid.

You see him remove his suit jacket, fold it, then he lays it over the booth closest to the door. He started rolling up his sleeves and made his way toward the customer trying to have his way with you.

Hawks grabs the man and throws him to the floor. He then joins the man and places a hand around his throat.

“How does it feel to be the bitch now, huh? Come back here and I promise it’ll be the last fucking thing you do. If I see or hear that you’ve been hanging around, I’ll fucking kill you,” he says with a smile

He meant what he said.

Hawks releases his hold and let’s the man up off the ground. He races out of the diner and doesn’t even think to look back.

Hawks makes his way over to you and at first you’re unsure if you should let him near.

“Are you alright, baby bird,” he asks with a tinge of sadness in his eyes

“Y-yeah. Thanks to you. H-how did you even know-“

“I saw him when he came in and something felt off. When I drove off, I only parked across the street. I watched just in case he tried anything and I’m glad I did.”

“Th-thank you Hawks,” you say, still shaken up by the events that just occurred

He looks at you softly. His eyes saying ‘I’m here for you. You’re safe with me’

“Get your stuff baby bird. I’ll take you home, you shouldn’t be alone tonight,” he says softly as to not startle you or make you feel any more uneasy

You simply nod and get your stuff from the break room in the back of the restaurant.

You meet Hawks in the front and you feel the sudden urge to hug him.

This surprises him, but he hugs back and rubs the back of your head.

“Thank you,” you squeak out

He smiles and lets out a small hum.

He takes your hand and guides you to his car, covering you both with a huge umbrella.

He opens the door of the passenger side and lets you get in first. He does a small jog around and gets in on the drivers side.

“Comfortable, baby bird?”

“Mhmm”

“Good, so where we headed,” he says smiling

You tell him the address and starts the car. The drive is quiet, but comfortable. Hawks even put on the seat warmer for your chair to further comfort you.

He makes it to the front of your building and wakes you up gently. You weren’t even aware that you had nodded off.

“We’re here, humming bird”

“Thank you, Hawks...for everything,” you say grabbing his hand and rubbing his knuckles with your fingers

“Anytime...here,” he says handing you a business card

You examine the nicely crafted card and smile

“That’s my cell number. Whenever you need me, don’t hesitate”

“Thank you,” you say mentally kicking yourself because you keep saying thank you,“I promise that’s not the only thing I can say, but I’m appreciative of everything you’ve don’t for me tonight”

He laughs

“It’s fine and you’re welcome. I’m bein honest though kid. In fact, how about I give you a job at my company? It pays more than you working at the restaurant and I have top of the line security, that way you’ll always be safe. You’ll even make enough that you won’t need a roommate”

“I’ll think about it. Thank you though. I just wanna get through tonight. When I can actually think, I’ll let you know”

“Alright, baby bird. Well you get on up to your apartment. I’ll leave once you’re inside.”

You get out the car and enter the code to enter your building, then you take out your key fob to enter the second set of doors and to use the elevator. When you get up to your apartment, you look out the window and see Hawks’ car still sitting in the same spot. You can’t help the smile that grows on your face.

You text him, letting him know you’re in your apartment and you’re safe. He takes a minute, but eventually pulls off.

You head to your bathroom to wash the day off and head to bed.

Art by kawaiitentacle on IG

“I eagerly wait for that day to make its arrival; it would be most splendid to finally see her!” You turned to beam over at your mother, your excitement evident on your face as you clutched the envelope to your chest securely.

It was mesmerising, the boundless and innocent joy of a child; it never ceased to amaze your mother. Without fail you would become elated with excitement each time a letter arrived at the house for you, seeing your beautiful smile was something your mother looked forward to each time. It had been years since you started exchanging letters and despite being twelve now, you still held the simplistic excitement of a child as you did when the first letter arrived. A tender smile crossed her lips as she watched you turn to open your delivery, your fingers gentle as ever as you slit the letter opener through the top of the envelope. She expected no less, you always took such care when opening the letters you received; she just wished you’d be as careful once they were open.

You smiled as butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, whizzing about as your fingers slipped into the envelope to retrieve your letter. It hit you like a warm breeze, the scent wafting from the papers and enveloping your every sense. You expected it each time and yet it never failed in managing to take your breath away, the sweet but warming scent that came with the papers. You took the papers from their restricting prison, unfolding them fully before lifting them to your nose and breathing deep.

“Shall we get started then??” Your mother’s voice snapped you from your trance and you peered over to her sheepishly as your cheeks heated, flooding with colour. “It’s best not to keep her waiting.”

You nodded eagerly at your mother before taking up your seat at your desk, placing your letter atop it as you pulled out your own paper in preparation for a response before staring down at your letter. The words scrawled across the paper looking more delicate and elegant with each passing year, you could still remember how messy the first one you’d received from her had been; it had taken your mother several hours to decipher the poor handwriting. You shook your head quickly, clearing away the old memories as you focused in on the words before you.

 Dear Miss (Last Name),

I’d like to foremost apologise for my tardiness in replying to you so late after you have sent me your last letter. I assure you it was in no means meant to disrespect you; I have just been busy of late with studies. I will be frank with you though; I feel as though my abilities when compared to those of my peers are severely lacking. Many of my fellow students are more academically inclined than what I am capable of, it feels as though I am falling behind and quickly. I have lost on several occasions with one of my peers when it comes to spelling competitions, the latest word to stump me was one I had never come across before; iridocyclitis.

I do apologise for my ramblings of my academics; it must bother you for me to write about it as such.

In regards to your question from your previous letter, you asked me if I had any success with the Peach Blossom this year. I regret to say, despite my best efforts to keep the beautiful tree alive; it has withered down to nothing this year. Mother is looking at having it removed from the garden soon and starting over with her design.

I must enquire about Bast, is your adorable kitten doing well? You said she was perplexed over being in a new environment, has she since adjusted to her surroundings? I would very much love to see what she looks like one day; I imagine she’s quite beautiful to have you so enamoured with her. Don’t forget being a Sphynx you must keep her ears cleaned regularly and bathe her to remove the build up of oils on her skin.

I hope that your family and yourself are doing well. I can’t wait for the day when we may be chanced with seeing one another, for now though I look forward to your forthcoming letters.

Sincerely

Momo Yaoyorozu

 You smiled as you sat back in your chair, your finger tracing over the paper as you read over her words one more time. That familiar scent wafting through the air towards you, it was something you had yet to figure out the exact fragrance of but it made you feel safe. Your smile turned quickly into a pout as you thought about what you could respond to her letter with, the words just didn’t seem to be coming together as easily as they usually did. You tapped your fingers against the page, Miss Yaoyorozu was rather disheartened by her studies and felt as though she we’re falling behind her peers. You had always felt as though she was one of the brightest people you had ever been given the opportunity to converse with and to read that she was being so hard on herself; it made you sad. You sighed as you read through the paragraph over and over, trying desperately to find the right words that might aid in putting her mind to ease and comforting her.

“Mother, what does this word here say?” You turned your attention to your mother where she sat behind you on your bed.

She blinked rapidly; she had been lost in thought when your sudden words had startled her. She lifted herself up off your bed and moved over to stand beside you at your desk, her small frame leaning down over you as she peered down at your page. “Iridocyclitis, if I remember correctly it’s a word of medical origins. It’s been quite some time since I’ve heard that word myself actually.” Your mother confessed as she tapped her forefinger against her bottom lip thoughtfully, her eyes skimming over the sentence that preluded the word. “It doesn’t surprise me Miss Yaoyorozu got it wrong, I failed to spell that word when I first heard it too.”

“You did?” Your eyes lit up as you looked up to your mother’s face, a smile stretching across your face as she gave a small nod of affirmation. “Thank you, mother. I know now what to say.”

“You’re welcome, (Name).” She smiled as she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving to leave the room and give you the space you often desired to respond to your letters.

 Dear Miss Yaoyorozu,

I find no need for you to apologise for the length of time it took you in responding to my previous letter. There was no disrespect felt or conveyed in any manner and I quite understand the importance of being able to devote oneself to their studies. It saddens me to hear that you feel as such about your academics, it would be my desire to give you a hug if I were there with you now. I’m sure that your fears of falling behind your fellow peers is nothing short of being afraid of failing. My mother informed me that she too failed in being able to spell iridocyclitis as well when she was a girl. I’m positive that with practice and patience, you will overcome the spelling of such difficult words in the future. Perhaps you could reach out towards your fellow peers, invite them to study with you and discover new ways of learning with them.

I am saddened to hear about the Peach Blossom tree, the photo you sent to me of it when it was in bloom in previous years was extraordinarily breathtaking. You shall have to keep me informed on the decisions your mother makes in regards to the garden, its serenity is something that rather appeals to myself.

Bast is doing quite fine now, thank you for asking about her. She has adjusted rather well to her new surroundings now and is instead proving to be quite adventurous of her environment. She is becoming somewhat of a sook and often opts for never leaving my side. I shall enclose a photo of my darling kitten with this letter so you may see for yourself how beautiful she is. I have been cleaning her ears regularly as well as making sure that her skin does not incur a build-up of oils.

My family is doing well, father is as busy as ever and mother is finding new things to keep herself entertained each day. I hope your family is doing just as well, I’m sure they are proud of you. Perhaps when I return home to Japan in the future the two of us can meet then, until then I too look forward to your forthcoming letters.

Sincerely

(First Name) (Last Name)

 You smiled happily as you lay your pen down next to your paper, scanning over the words you had scrawled out in reply. You were content for now to communicate with Miss Yaoyorozu through these letters but you would much rather have been happy seeing her in person.

“One day! I will see you one day without fail, Miss Yaoyorozu.” You declared before rising from your desk to embark on the task of locating Bast for her photo.

~

Delicate fingers ruffled the battered edges of pages in disrepair and diminished over the years. You smiled wistfully as the pad of your forefinger danced gracefully over the indents in the pages where words were scrawled, etched into the depth of the pages by a hand unknowing of its own force. You couldn’t contain the way your smile spread further as you looked down at the all too familiar pages you were holding in your hands, the contents of those pages childish and yet invigorating. The once white pages now discoloured a murky yellow with stains littering them from childish hands that knew no better. These weren’t just any pages you held so lovingly; these were penned to you over the course of several years by one you now considered to own your heart.

You felt almost giddy as you lifted the papers towards your nose, your heart fluttering with elation as you breathed in deep the sweet aroma that even now lingered on those pages. The scent had faded over the years but unlike in your years of childish knowledge, you could now identify exactly what the fragrance was that assaulted your senses. It was an intoxication scent, a mixture of floral with a hint of amber and spices mixed into it. Oh, how you longed to be able to smell that scent anew after all these years and finally see the one of whom it belonged to.

Momo Yaoyorozu, the two of you had exchanged many letters over the years and each one had been as cherished as the next. As the years passed though and things became busier for the both of you, your means of communication had been forced to change in order to better suit your lifestyles. The letters became non-existent and were replaced with daily texts between one another. You had enjoyed the occasional phone call but the hours you got to spend texting with her, were some of your happiest hours of each day.

You were pulled away from your thoughts by the sound of a phone ringing, your eyes falling to the office phone that sat huddled on the corner of your desk. You sighed longingly as you shook your head, retrieving the phone from its cradle before lifting it to your ear. “Good evening, (Name) speaking. How may I help you?”

“My Lady, your car is awaiting you out the front. You need to leave now or you’ll be late to the event tonight.” You blinked as your secretary’s voice came over the line, looking down at the watch wrapped around your wrist and cursing yourself as you realised the time.

“Thank you Uraraka, I seem to have lost track of time up here. Please inform the driver I will be down shortly.” You responded as you opened a drawer, slipping the letters into its depths before returning the drawer to its closed state.

“Of course, My Lady.” Uraraka chimed as she started to hum on the other end of the phone. You were just about to put the phone down when you heard her sudden intake of breath and her scream come through the speaker.

“Yes, Miss Uraraka?” You smiled as you flicked your eyes over to the back of your door, looking at the onyx garment that was hanging there.

“I almost forgot to say, remember your dress is hanging on the back of your door and I brought the shoes you requested from your house over; they’re stored just next to the bookshelf to the right of your door.” She blurted out quickly, as though she were trying to beat someone else to inform you of these things.

“Yes, thank you. I can see the dress on my door and I will find the shoes. Thank you Uraraka, I’ll get changed and head down.” You informed her before placing the phone back down onto the cradle and leaning back in your chair.

You felt as though this night was just going to drag on forever, you wanted nothing more than to already be at this event. You sighed heavily as you pushed yourself forward out of your chair, pressing your hands down onto your desk before hoisting your body up into a standing position. You couldn’t help but to smile as you stalked your way around your desk, your eyes never leaving the garment that hung in the bag. Oh, how you knew this dress well, you hadn’t worn it since you had designed it but now was the time for it to make its debut. You snatched the bag off the door, pulling the plastic away from the hanger before letting it slide down the silky material inside. You smiled happily as you thumbed at the material, your eyes skimming over the garment quickly in search of any flaws that may have revealed themselves.

Satisfied with the quality and integrity of the clothing, you moved quickly to remove the clothes you’d been wearing all day. You couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down your spine as you slipped into the clothing article, smirking as you moved to retrieve your shoes from their hiding place near the bookshelf. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror that stood alone in the corner of your office, your eyes flicking up to your hair where it sat pulled into a tight bun atop your head. You hummed to yourself for a moment, contemplating leaving it as it was before deciding to let it down and watched as it cascaded over your shoulders.

“I think this will about do it.” You whispered to yourself as you ran a hand over your thigh, content with your look before moving to leave your office. It was a quick trip down to the ground floor from your office thanks to the elevator, lord knows you’d have never made it down all those stairs without face planting it at least once.

“Oh… Wow, don’t you look gorgeous?” Uraraka gushed as she leaned against the service desk, her hands clasped over her chest as she stood waiting for your arrival.

“Thank you Uraraka, you look rather stunning yourself.” You returned as you ran your eyes over the dress she was wearing. “Shall we get going then?”

Uraraka nodded as she spun on the spot before moving to grab the front door for you, holding it open as she waited for you to pass through. She trailed behind you as you approached the car, your stride graceful as she watched you walk and only realising you were waiting for her when she almost walked into you. “Ah, sorry My Lady. You just look so beautiful tonight.” She admitted sheepishly as she rubbed at the back of her neck. “I’m certain you’re going to catch a lot of eyes tonight.”

“Is that so?” You murmured softly as you slid into the backseat of the car, propping your elbow up against the window on the other side as you cradled your chin in your hand.

You didn’t hear whatever it was that Uraraka replied to you with, your mind had already drifted off in thought of her comment. You didn’t care for all of the eyes that would be on you tonight, there was only one set that you wished to meet with and that was something you could only hope for. You were pulled from your thoughts when Uraraka tapped your shoulder, realising the car was moving as buildings flashed past the window and you turned to face your companion.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure she won’t be able to take her eyes off of you.” Uraraka giggled as she beamed over at you.

Your skin heated as you flushed violently, your eyes lingering on her face as she giggled harder at your reaction. There were days you wished you had never confided in her about your crush on Miss Yaoyorozu, then again you wouldn’t be where you were tonight without her knowing those details. You sighed heavily as you turned your attention back to the buildings out the window, watching as people moved about on the streets. There was something about the bustle of the nightlife in Japan that always managed to capture your attention, you were unused to so much activity during the night.

You had finally returned home to Japan a little over a month ago, Uraraka or Ochaco as she often preferred to have you call her, was one of the first people you had the luxury of meeting. She had taken on the roll as your Secretary when you had offered her the job and the paycheck had been the main thing to hook her. You didn’t blame her; she wanted the money to help her parents with their business and that honestly made you happy to hear. Ochaco was actually the reason you had the chance to see Momo tonight, if it hadn’t been for her then you probably would have had to wait longer. It just so happened that Ochaco ran in the same circle as Momo, her father owning one of the main construction companies that Momo relied on for her work.

Momo Yaoyorozu, she had made quite the name for herself here in Japan and you couldn’t be prouder of her. She had become a leading Architect and was now one of the most highly sought-after people in the whole of Japan, with the occasional job that would have her called overseas on important jobs. She was the one people turned to when they wanted plans and designs for a building, often being the one appointed to oversee the construction of the buildings as well.

“How much longer?” You piped up as you turned to peek over at Ochaco.

“Not too much longer. The opening celebration shouldn’t start until after we get there.” Ochaco responded as she fiddles with the ends of her dress, the several layers scrunched together in her tiny hands. “How do you think YaoMomo will react?”

You smiled at the nickname your friend had given to Momo over the course of the years they had known each other. “Not sure, she doesn’t even know I’m in Japan at the moment.” You whispered thoughtfully as you looked back out the window.

“Wait, what?” Ochaco squeaked as she turned in her seat fully to stare at you. “I thought she knew! I thought you were just surprising her by turning up tonight. You mean to tell me, you’re surprising YaoMomo with being in Japan altogether?”

You nodded as you closed your eyes, pressing your temple up against the cool glass of the window and allowing it to ease some of the tension there. “I just hope she got the package I sent her.”

“Package…” Ochaco frowned before popping her eyes wide as she grabbed a hold of your arm. “That was you? Tell me that’s a joke, you sent her that expensive package the other day?” She squeaked in disbelief.

You giggled as you moved your hand to release her hands from around your arm. “Ochaco, just what exactly do I do for work?”

“You’re a fashion de… oh!” She giggled as she moved to sit properly in her seat. “I see, well played (Name), well played.”

“My Lady, we’ve arrived at your destination.”

The two of you were pulled from the childishness of the moment by the announcement from the driver, your head snapping up instantly to look out at the building outside. It was a magnificent building, a Science Hub built for the youth of Japan to make use of in order to help further their studies and achieve high in their academics. Momo had been the one to spearhead the entire operation and tonight was the Grand Opening of the Hub, not to mention a huge thank you party for the woman herself.

You felt the butterflies spring to life in your stomach as you stared out at the building, suddenly the weight of the situation was suddenly all too real. Somewhere, in the depths of that building was the woman you had spent years exchanging words with and spent endless hours longing to see. Your heart felt as though it was in your throat, beating rapidly as you realised the only thing standing between you and Momo was a set of doors.

You yelped as the door disappeared from in front of you and you suddenly toppled forwards out of the car, thankful for the fact Ochaco was quick on her feet; catching you before you could hit the ground. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you were still leaning against the door.” She apologised profusely as she sat you back up in the car properly.

“It’s fine, probably just the distraction I needed just now.” You smiled as you took her hand, accepting her help as you got out of the car and smoothed out your clothes properly. You turned promptly to thank your driver, bowing to him respectfully before stepping away from the car. You watched as he drove off, turning to face the building as he disappeared and moved off for the entrance.

Your breath was baited as you walked inside the building, your eyes scanning the crowd within as you sought out one person in particular. You watched as Ochaco detached herself from your side and disappeared within the mass of people, one would think you’d be used to this many people with your line of work; truth was you really weren’t! You took a deep breath as you stepped away from the entrance, taking your time to weave through the close-knit crowds and avoid bumping into people along the way. You were beginning to get overwhelmed with the crowds of people as you moved further into the building, feeling as though you’d never be able to locate Momo.

A flash of red. A giggle comparable to wind-chimes. You snapped your head to the right as your eyes locked on to the vibrant red that stood out amongst the crowd, complemented by the dark hair that fell in waves half way down the back of its owner. Your heart raced as you stood there, your teeth pinching your bottom lip between them and chewing on it anxiously. She was splendid, the sight of her standing there in all her elegance was more than your poor heart could handle. You moved without thinking, your feet carrying you across the room until you were standing just behind the woman of your desires. You watched as she bowed respectfully to her company, of whom departed from her and left her standing to herself.

There it was, washing over you in a thick and refreshing wave; the scent of your childhood. “Freesia mixed with sheer Jasmine and a hint of Amber. It’s a rather warm scent, Miss Yaoyorozu.” Your voice was loud enough to reach her ears and you watched as her body stiffened, her hands falling slack to her sides just moments before her body spun in your direction.

“(Name)…”

Your name was but a whisper as it fell from her lips, only for your ears and enough to send your heart into a chaotic flutter. You smiled as you stepped in closer to her, extending your right hand out towards her as you locked eyes with hers. “You didn’t think I would miss this now, did you?” You teased as you tilted your head to the side and awaited her response.

Momo smiled as she moved, forgoing your hand and pulling you in tight against her body in a crushing hug. “What are you doing here? You’re not due back for another month.” She questioned as she nuzzled into the side of your neck.

You blinked as you wrapped your arms around her slender form, your face pressing into her shoulder as you closed your eyes. “I wanted to surprise you.” You confessed as you breathed in, her perfume assaulting your senses as you tightened your grip around her. “I’ve waited so long for this day to present itself.”

“So too have I.” Momo admitted as she placed a tender kiss in the crook of your neck, causing your breath to hitch as you stiffened in her hold. “I want nothing more than to leave this place and head home with you.” She whispered against your ear.

You smiled as your cheeks heated, nuzzling into her shoulder as you hid your face from prying eyes. “We can’t, this is your night Momo.” You reminded her gently as you ran your fingers up along her back tenderly.

“And, it is now complete thanks to your being here.” She declared as she pulled back away from you and looked down into your eyes. Momo blinked as she looked into your eyes, her eyebrows knitting together out of confusion as she released you from her grip. “How did you know about tonight?”

You smiled as you scanned the crowd, your eyes landing on the frilly pink dress and the bob of brunette hair. “I have my ways.” You relucted as you turned your attention back to the woman in front of you.

Momo watched as you stepped back from her, tilting her head as you looked her up and down. “Do I pass your inspection, (Name)?” She asked as a giggle bubbled to life in her chest.

“I have to say, my dress looks much better on you than I had anticipated for it to.” You confessed as you moved to circle around her, taking in the way the gown adorned her body.

The dress she was wearing was one you had made specifically for her and by lords did it work magic when she wore it, or perhaps she was the one working the magic. It was the perfect fit for her figure, hugging her curves in all the right ways while still having enough give so as not to hinder her movements or suffocate her. If you had to describe the image she gave you in that moment, you would compare her to a flame standing proud and elegant in all its glory. The floor length vermilion gown complimented perfectly by the black waves that flowed elegantly over her shoulders. You couldn’t help but to let your eyes slip down to the slits that ran up the sides of the dress, stopping at her hips and exposing the beautiful expanse of her powerful long legs.

“My eyes are up here, (Name).”

“Oh, trust me, I’m well aware where your eyes are my love.” You retorted as you circled her once more before coming to a stop in front of her. “My dress is perfect when worn by you.”

“I was right about it being from you then.” Momo smiled as she skimmed her hand over the fabric covering the front of her thigh. “I had a feeling that might have been the case when I saw the design along the hem of the dress. Peach Blossoms, just like the ones I used to have.”

“I told you, I liked those Peach Blossoms.” You admitted as you peeked down to the blossoms that seemed to be swirling to life with each slight movement Momo made.

“We match, don’t we?” Momo asked as she motioned to your dress and quirked an eyebrow in question.

You nodded in affirmation of her question, flicking your eyes up to her face in time to catch a smile gracing her features. “Beside the colour, our dresses are twins. I designed them myself.”

“Of course.” Momo whispered thoughtfully as she squatted down in front of you, her hand coming out to catch the hem of your dress as she traced her thumb over one of the blossoms. “No-one else could ever capture the true beauty of the blossoms as you could.”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you peered down at Momo, she looked so serene as she was but her current positioning was garnering quite a few unwanted stares from the crowd. You opened your mouth in preparation to say something to her but snapped it shut when you caught sight of a man heading towards the two of you.

“Miss Yaoyorozu, your presence is required at the stage please?” The man stated curtly as he motioned towards a temporary stage that had been set up within the area of the building.

“Yes, I shall be there shortly.” She quipped as she stood from her position and looked straight into your eyes. “Meet me here when this is all over, ok?” You nodded in submission to her request and watched as she was led off by the man.

You stood amongst the crowd as the guests were welcomed and thanked for being there for the grand opening. Your eyes quickly wandered over to where Momo was standing off to the side, blushing when you realised her attention wasn’t on the speaker either but focused solely on you. You smiled, suppressing a giggle as you pointed towards the speaker and Momo reluctantly turned her head back to focus on the man. He thanked her for her dedication and effort that she had put into the project and presented her with an award for her efforts. The crowd applauded her for her achievement and you couldn’t help but to clap along with them; you were so proud of her after all. You listened closely as she thanked the speaker before turning to thank those in the crowd for having attended the opening ceremony tonight.

Before you could register what was happening the crowd erupted into incessant chatter and started to break off into the smaller groups from before. You jolted as your hand was grabbed from nowhere but you were instantly calmed as you locked with onyx orbs staring down at you. A singular tug of your hand was more than enough of a message to let you know what it was Momo wanted from you. You smiled and nodded as she pulled you along after her, only stopping to thank people for their murmurs of congratulations as she made a beeline for the entrance. You shuddered as you stepped out into the cold of the night, the air washing over your skin and you stepped in closer to Momo in order to shield yourself from it.

“(Name)!” You blinked as you peeked up at Momo, her eyes flicking down to your lips as she bit her own bottom lip. “Kiss me!”

~

The drive to Momo’s house had been nothing but a blur for you, after giving in to her request for a kiss the two of you had hardly been able to keep your hands off one another. It had been a slow and tender kiss but it had quickly turned fevered as you had managed to thread your fingers up into her long hair. The two of you only breaking apart after her driver had cleared his throat several times in order to gain your attention. You’d been snuggled into her side for the entire drive, your mind focused solely on her left hand which she had slipped inside the slit of your dress and allowed to sit atop your thigh.

You giggled as Momo pulled you inside her house, bumping the front door closed with her arse before flicking the lock into place and turning the security system on. You were lost in admiring her hallway and the delicate designs around the awnings when suddenly her hands were on your hips and she was spinning you in place. You squealed as she pushed you, your back pressing up against the cold wall as her thigh slipped between your own and she pinned you beneath her heated gaze. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, pulling on the sensitive flesh as you watched her longingly. Her lips pulled up into a smile as she dipped her head, pressing her lips along your jaw and making her way up towards your ear before biting down behind your ear.

You gasped and mewled as you arched your body in response to her action, your fingers flexing where she held your hands above your head as you rolled your hips forwards. Soft moans left your lips as she chewed on the spot, rolling her tongue over it as she pushed her thigh further between yours. Your breath hitched as her thigh pressed against your folds giving you the pressure, you desperately needed as you rocked your hips forwards. Whimpers and moans left your lips as you shamelessly moved your hips, grinding against her thigh as she littered your neck in a barrage of kisses.

“(Name).” Momo whispered heatedly as she released your arms, her hands coming down to trace over your sides as she pulled at the edges of your dress. “I want you.”

If only this woman knew what those words would do to you. You whimpered as you moved your hands to grasp her shoulders, pushing her back and pinning her against the opposite wall as you looked up into her eyes. “I’ve waited so damn long to hear those words, Momo!” You confessed as you let her go, moving to undo the back of your dress as you kept your eyes on her.

Momo smirked as she pushed off the wall, tucking her fingers beneath the straps of your dress before sliding them down off your shoulders. You shuddered as her fingers ghosted over your skin, only to be followed by her lips as she planted kisses over your exposed skin. You stumbled backwards with her as she urged you down the hallway, kicking her shoes off as she went and continuing to push your dress down your arms. You giggled as you kicked off your shoes, discarding them individually down the hallway as she pushed you further into the depths of her house. Momo stopped as she peered down at you heatedly, releasing your dress and watching as it skimmed over your skin to pool at your feet.

“Perfect.” Her voice was soft as she whispered that singular word and her hands were on your skin. You’d spent years dreaming of having her hands over your skin, of having her mouth and teeth leaving marks over your body.

You slipped your hands up under her hair, searching for the zipper in her dress as you sought to see her body. Momo giggled as her hand came up to replace your own, pulling the zipper of her dress down as she nudged you further down the hallway, her eyes never leaving your body as she greedily drank up your beauty. You watched in awe as she shimmied her dress off her shoulders before letting it fall from her shoulders, only needing to push it down over her hips before it pooled on the floor beneath her. You stood there staring at her as you abused your bottom lip feverishly, your eyes drinking in every bit of her body hungrily. You were so lost in her beauty; you didn’t register that she was getting closer to you until the moment her hands gripped your hips and she lifted you off the ground. You squealed as she moved your body so easily, shivering violently as your arse came into contact with a cold surface and you realised you were now on the counter in her kitchen.

“Momo…” You raised an eyebrow as you looked into her eyes, her lips pulled into a breathtaking smile as she closed the distance between you.

You moaned as she latched her mouth onto your breast, her teeth ghosting over your skin as she teased at the possibilities. You whined as her hands gripped your thighs roughly, her tongue dancing over your chest as she pressed the crown of her head against your throat. You squirmed against her hips as you wrapped your legs around her waist and threaded your fingers into her hair securely. Your eyes fluttered shut as your lips parted, her mouth moving lower over your body as she slipped her hands beneath your thighs and started to push them apart. You purred low in pleasure as her teeth sunk into your stomach and hips as she unhooked your legs from around her waist. Your eyes shot open as her hand pressed against your chest and she pushed you down onto the counter. You looked down at her in time to watch her head disappear between your thighs.

Momo smiled as she spread your thighs wide, hooking your legs over her shoulders as she dipped her head in close to your heat. She nuzzled her nose against the lacy material, soaked by the juices leaking from your needy pussy. She flicked her eyes up to your face, watching you as she flicked her tongue out and pressed it flat against your panties. Momo closed her eyes as a soft moan left your lips and she pushed her tongue against your pussy firmer, pressing the material and her tongue between your folds ever so slightly. She hummed low in appreciation as she moved her tongue along your folds, the lacy material of your panties an odd sensation against her tongue as she took in the taste of your juices.

You moaned and squirmed as you tangled a hand further into her hair as you arched your back, you wanted more from her but you knew she was enjoying herself. You gasped and bucked your hips as she located your clitoris, pulling it between her teeth and rolling it delicately between them. A wanton moan left your lips as you curled your toes, the fabric of your panties only adding to the sensation against your clitoris.

“Momo… Please?” You pleaded as you rolled your hips desperately and pulled on her hair.

Momo giggled as she lifted her head from between your thighs, looking down at your face as she pulled your panties down along your legs before throwing them out of the kitchen. “As you wish, (Name). Such a pretty voice when you beg.”

You blushed violently as you looked up at Momo, watching as she flicked her tongue out over her lips before diving back down between your thighs. You were about to argue with her when she lapped her tongue along your pussy, cleaning up your juices as they flowed. You moaned as she hooked your thighs over her shoulders and pushed her hot tongue into your pussy. You bucked your hips as you tightened your grip on her hair, her tongue pushing deep within your pussy as she wriggled it about.

Momo smiled as she closed her eyes, she couldn’t help but to be enticed by your taste as she pushed her tongue deeper into your heat. She moved her tongue about, pressing it against your walls roughly as she savoured your flavour. She smirked as she flicked her tongue about, satisfied when she heard your breath hitch and your body arched off the counter. Your hand pulled on her hair roughly as your hips rolled down to press against her face as she found that spot inside of you. Momo hummed low as she licked feverishly, lapping up your juices as she rubbed her tongue against your spot. She snaked a hand around your thigh, pressing her thumb against your clitoris before rubbing it in a tight circle and causing you to cry out her name.

You threw your head back as your body arched off the counter, a rush of pleasure coursing through your body as Momo assaulted your senses from inside and out. You curled your toes against her back as you moaned, whimpering her name as you moved your free hand to grip the counter. You cried out as you bucked your hips, Momo’s tongue relentlessly pushing against your walls before rubbing over your spot in a disorientating cycle. Wait, what was that?

“Holy fuck!” You cursed as a metal ball pressed against the walls of your quivering pussy; Momo had a friggen tongue piercing! Fuck you loved this woman, she seemed to be full of surprises but by the gods was she damn good with her tongue.

You let your head loll back over the edge of the counter, your hand tightening in her hair as you slowly let your eyes slip open. Red. That was the first thing that registered in your mind, red orbs filled with distaste as they glared at you from across the room. You gasped and moaned as you blinked desperately trying to clear your vision of its lust filled haze. You stiffened as your eyes locked with crimson eyes set in a scowl and your body instantly seized up. You flicked your eyes over the occupant on the other side of the room and realisation suddenly set in to your fogged brain. You screamed as you sat upright on the bench, pulling Momo’s head up from between your thighs as you blushed furiously.

“You fucking done now?” The gruff voice came from behind you as the sound of shuffling feet could be heard approaching you both.

“Hardly even, we were just getting started.” Momo quipped up as she stood in front of you and wrapped her arms around your form, her lips pressing against your ear.

“Yeah, on my fucking counter!” He growled as he moved, coming into your vision as he walked around the counter and went to what you presumed to be the fridge.

“It’s not like you’ve never fucked anyone on this counter.” She shot back quickly as she looked over her shoulder at the blonde man behind her. “Need I name a particular brunette I keep finding on your counter?”

“MY COUNTER, damn it Ponytail!” He snarled as he slammed the fridge shut and took a long gulp from the bottle of water he’d retrieved from its depths.

“Very well Bakugou, I shall take her to my bedroom.” Momo relucted as she nuzzled into your neck and opted for ignoring her housemate. Somehow it had managed to slip your mind that Momo shared her house with the one and only Katsuki Bakugou, a well-known lawyer who was yet to lose a case and was her own legal representative.

“Good.” He huffed out before moving to head back across the room. “And pick up the damn peach blossoms in the fucking hallway!” He growled before disappearing into a different part of the house.

You blinked as you peeked around Momo’s shoulder and peered back down the hallway, it did indeed look like scattered Peach Blossoms with your belongings scattered the way they were. You smiled despite the situation and burst into laughter as you pressed your forehead against her shoulder. “What now?” You asked softly as you kissed her neck tenderly.

Persephone sat in the vibrant landscape. Soft petals grazed against her legs, spring afternoon sun hot against the deity's back. Persephone prayed for moments like this, her heart fluttering against her rib cage. Flowers engulfed her; a feeling the goddess basked in. A hum broke from Persephone’s lips as she delicately picked clusters of flowers. Petals laid across her forearms; earthen roots poked into elbows. She sighed, knowing mud would cake her. The goddess’ white linen trashed.

A rustle echoed behind the barefoot deity. The sound pierced through nature, it’s origin unnatural. Oxygen caught in her throat; lungs suspended in anticipation. A mortal? In spring? Excitement bubbled in her stomach. The buzz traveled through her spine. Never had Persephone encountered… a human.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Golden eyes observed her. Persephone; Goddess of Spring. A willowy frame draped in pristine white cloth. Curly hair decorated by an array of blossoms. A rainbow of hues. The stoic God of the Underworld felt a pang in his chest. His heart was on fire. Overhaul, God of the Underworld, was unable to break his gaze upon her. The beginnings of a blush ran through pale cheeks. Overhaul’s mouth felt dry. He struggled to compose himself; his heart still an erratic rhythm. Overhaul stumbled, mud covered feet slick against the earth.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

“Please come out,” A brave voice called. Persephone was mad with love for the concept of man. “I won’t hurt you.”

The God of the Underworld’s chest tightened. Overhaul overwhelmed with the deity’s voice. He gripped his scepter. His pulse hot in his ears, the thump almost unbearable.

He didn’t reply. Words lost to him.

Persephone stepped forward. Soft footprints on dewy ground. The Goddess of Spring’s resolve was infinite. “I have flowers.”

She sounded so innocent, so pure; her nature an exact juxtaposition to the Underworld. He wanted to hold her. The thought of sooten hands gripping velvet skin left Overhaul in a daze.

The air was still; spring sun now creeping into the shade. Persephone waited, the goddess’ form still knelt before flowers, their colors now memorized by her. A thrill edged into her mind. Idle hands trembled.

She waited. The feeling of being watched melted away, as did the afternoon sun.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Overhaul sat against the Mourning Fields. His head was heavy with visions of Persephone. The god sighed, a dull petal twisted between gloved fingers. Persephone weighed on him. She felt like a noose.

The idea hit him. It was simple. Easy.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

It had become routine for Overhaul to watch the goddess. Her movements reminded him of a ballerina. Soft and delicate. Hair made silk by the afternoon sun. Persephone’s cheeks would glisten with red from the sun’s warmth; the woman grateful for serenity and flowers.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The God of the Underworld waited. Furor hidden within gilded eyes. His scepter poised at Persephone’s garden. A part of him hurt to do this. The god aware of her fate, earth would open beneath her, Persephone swallowed by the earth. His.

Muted footsteps peaked Overhaul’s interest. The sound signaling Persephone’s arrival. Persephone hummed, her gait cheerful.

Afternoon sun beat against her linen clad frame. An aroma of flowers met her. The beginning of her ritualistic flower picking. Persephone sat, knees burrowed into misty grass. She dreamed while pulling roots. The deity was careful with the divinity of flowers, petals too gentle for anything less.

A flash erupted behind her, a thunderous boom the only sound the goddess heard. The sound pierced her. A headache took shape. Moist ground gave underneath supple flesh. Persephone fell; a shrill gasp escaped her. Shock. She disappeared into the chasm. Overhaul’s thin lips curled into a coy smile. Hints of pink were splattered across pale cheeks. The god elated.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Persephone awoke from a deep slumber. Scraped knees throbbed. The landing had been harsh. Tender flesh no match for coarse rock. Fear snaked through her chest, choosing to rest against her heart. Pain from her chest now sharp. Long coils were tangled with dirt and flowers; Persephone no longer resembling the Goddess of Spring. She coughed, the musty earth clung to her lungs.

Anxious eyes glanced around. Darkness and earth encompassed the goddess. The air around her was moist and warm. Like a hug. Suffocating. The chasm felt small. Persephone’s outstretched arms reached earthen walls.

“Are you hurt?”

The voice was scratchy and muffled; the owner obviously not trapped with Persephone.

“I scraped my knees. It’s not bad,” the goddess replied, soil covered hands resting against bruised knees. A puddle of blood had begun to congeal underneath Persephone’s palms. Persephone tore off a shred of ruined linen. The previously white dress now stained with dirt and flecks of red. She tied the cloth around her knee. Blood and pain continued to leak through her knees. The goddess couldn’t summon strength to bandage the other knee; crimson streaked down a bare calve.

The voice didn’t reply. A silence stuck between them.

Persephone witnessed another brilliant flash. The earthen wall to her left was no more. A golden scepter occupied the space; its peak adorned with a yellow jewel. An intricate snake wrapped around the shaft, the scepter ending in a point. The shape was almost sinister to her.

“I’ve always wanted to meet a wizard!” Persephone exclaimed. A wizard was the only logical explanation. Simply a mortal man that accidentally shot the ground from her. The human was here to rescue her. A misunderstanding, she reasoned.

Overhaul flinched at her tone. The goddess’ voice shrill not even muffled by earth. She was ignorant of him. The God of the Underworld saw his opportunity. Without haste, he stepped into the crevice Persephone inhabited. A low, eerie green light followed behind.

Faded emerald engulfed them. Dried blood trained down a dirty knee. The other bled through tattered cloth. Pure skin caked in earth. The sight of Persephone should have repulsed him, her form a disaster of soil and bruises. In place of disgust, Overhaul’s throat tightened. Gilded eyes were glued to the Goddess of Spring. A wave of nostalgia flooded him. His heart beat in his ears.

A black gloved hand was offered to her. “I am Overhaul.”

Overhaul: God of the Underworld. The ghost of a frown was strung along her lips. Persephone’s heart thumped against her chest in anxiety. She had never encountered Overhaul. He owned the earthen domain, but was a recluse. The deity before her was not the form she expected. Persephone was convinced he possessed the head of a bull and the tail of a platypus. Overhaul’s domain commanded he shouldn’t be handsome. He stood proudly before her, his shoulders square and lean. Yellow eyes wide with interest. Shaggy auburn hair poked out from a black hood. The god was beautiful, she realized.

Persephone swallowed. Her throat refused to conjure saliva. Barren. The effect of this god. Persephone’s body was on fire. Every nerve burned while starved eyes devoured him. Overhaul.

She waved his hand away; the goddess confident she could stand.

Overhaul quietly scoffed. He withdrew his hand. The god stood awkwardly. Her presence left him flushed. A light pink dust spread from his nose and ended across his cheeks. This bundle of feelings was foreign to Overhaul. The God of the Underworld was logical. Cold. This deity infected him. Frantic heartbeats pumped through his ears.

The goddess found her voice.

“I’m sorry. Can you -- I don’t mean to be a bother, but how do I go back?” The words rushed from her. Her embarrassment now audible.

The cloaked god pointed to the ceiling.

“Up there?” Overhaul prayed she would stay; his heart determined to keep the deity. He wanted to feel the goddess, convinced the pure skin would subdue him. Longing was wrapped in his stomach. The God of the Underworld ached to hold Persephone.

“Y-yes. If we leave now, I might return by dusk,” the object of his affection said. Persephone’s eyes glowed with hope. An expression that softened Overhaul. He felt a pang in his chest. Cupid’s arrow tore through him.

He sighed. Rejection weighed against him. Overhaul’s heart now wilted and onyx. A god turned to stone.

“The Underworld is dangerous at night. Please, stay tonight and head out in the morning.”

The lie slipped easily from him. A deity with no qualms over white lies. He was desperate to keep Persephone, even if just for a night. Such beauty deserved the dignity of a bed. Clean clothes. Doctored knees. Overhaul flashed a grin. The expression went as soon as Persesphone saw it. A ghost.

She believed him.

“Okay… Thank you, Overhaul.”

His name sounded divine as it fled from her lips.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Persephone followed closely behind Overhaul. The god had explained it while cleaning her wounds; the Underworld was a twisting network of tunnels. There was no obvious light source. Vague shapes bathed in green hues. She squinted in the darkness. How could Overhaul possibly navigate? Barefeet padded against cold, smooth ground. Mud no longer a concern within his domain.

Overhaul would look behind him occasionally. Golden eyes hungry for Persephone. She looked so helpless. He wanted to clean her and smother the goddess in kisses. Let me touch you, please. Looking at her hurt, made him ache. Overhaul longed for Persephone.

The God of the Underworld stopped in front of a worn wooden door. Rusted hinges and splintered wood. A torch of emerald hung over the threshold.

The torch allowed Persephone to catch a glimpse of crimson across his cheeks. Overhaul gulped. Anxiety wrapped around his bones. A slight tremble overcame his voice.

“I hope this is… acceptable.” He didn’t know what to do with his hands, opting to fiddle with the hem of his cloak.

Curious orbs fixated upon him. He looks so cute like this. Persephone’s prolonged stare made Overhaul feel self conscious. The god now unsure of himself. Her eyes flicked to his lips, a light red and chapped. He looked divine.

She stepped forward.

“Thank you,” she replied. The air between the deities was tense. A sense of longing engulfed the two. “I apologize for the ruckus I caused.” Wilted petals fell as she bowed. Persephone now indebted to the deity.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

She had discarded the torn linen before bed. Tired body laid bare underneath the sheets. Persephone stretched, sleepy limbs slowly woke up. The bed was heaven. Fluffy padding against broken knees was euphoric. She shifted in bed. The goddess missed the budding morning sun. Rays of light would filter through her chambers. A promise of the afternoon sun.

Persephone inhaled deeply. The smell of moist earth nauseated her. She was grateful for Overhaul’s hospitality, even after he admitted to accidentally trapping her. He had been practicing to create rifts in the earth. An amphibious deity. Persephone admired this aspect of him. Despite his awkward nature, the deity was eloquent with words. The Goddess of Spring was enamored with his words last night. Overhaul had told her myths as a means of calming her as he cleaned her knees. She had clung to his words. Eyes wide with awe. Her expressions squeezed at Overhaul’s heart. The god now sure he was in love. The urge to smother her in kisses still twisted within him. A lovesick deity.

A knock pulled Persephone from her pinning.

“May I come in?” Overhaul meekly asked. The god convinced she possessed a glow.

Persephone yanked the sheets around her chin. “Yes.”

Bare feet slapped against the dirt floor as Overhaul approached her bed. He was right, even in the bizarre emerald light, Persephone still radiated. Perhaps, she was the sun. Overhaul looked at the goddess and noticed sheets suspiciously tucked into her. The realization hit Overhaul as he peeked at the ruined fabric across the room. He wanted to pick up the garment and inhale. Memorize her scent. Smother himself in it. Overhaul restrained himself, instead focusing on the feminine frame before him.

“Sleep well?”

Persephone giggled as she wiggled sleep from her body. “The best sleep I’ve had in years. Now, I don’t want to be a bother any longer. Let me change and then you can take me back, Overhaul.

There it was again, her voice honey as she said his name. The deity’s chest tightened. His heart threatened to pop from his rib cage.

“Persephone, you don’t have to leave immediately. Please, have breakfast with me first. It’s only polite,” he reasoned. Her name felt like syrup. Sweet and thick against his tongue. Overhaul did want to eat breakfast with her, the thought a common daytime fantasy. Persephone’s drowsy form was as he imagined; flowers tangled in long tendrils, small body hidden under blankets, face sleepy and pure.

While she had slept, Overhaul toiled in ancient texts. A god possessed. He knew Persephone wouldn’t stay. The lovesick deity felt his heart weaken. She was strangling him. Overhaul needed her. He knew the goddess would eventually accept him.

The goddess held his gaze. Overhaul was beautiful even in a dank hovel. Her fingertips itched to comb themselves through auburn hair. An image of opulence juxtaposed against the gloomy Underworld. Amber orbs pierced her heart; a slight rouge invading her face.

“I’d like that.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The two deities were seated across a table decorated with intricate carvings. Persephone’s slender fingers traced the shapes. Even the cloak draped across her was elegant. She had never seen something so beautiful before. The Goddess of Spring’s world consisted of flowers and nature. Breakfast sat between them; two bowls of oatmeal and an array of fruits.

“Not hungry?” he asked. Overhaul wore a frown; the god crestfallen.

Gentle words interrupted Persephone. She had forgotten the cloaked figure. The beauty of his realm was intoxicating. Delicately crafted objects adorned the Underworld. Distinct artifacts against the earth.

Persephone smiled. A genuine thing that set Overhaul ablaze. “It’s just -- I’ve never seen something so beautiful.” Eager fingers rested atop the table. Her eyes glittered with awe and curiosity.

Overhaul hesitated. His fingers instead ghosted across Persephone’s wrist. He was dying to touch her. She must feel like flowers. He gulped down anxiety, the goddess now aware of his pining.

“Your hands are soft.”

He blinked. The plan came into focus again. The pomegranate.

“Th-thank you, but Persephone, you should really eat something,” Overhaul stated. This was his chance. Antique books had revealed to him the gateway to heaven. To her.

It was simple really. Proverbs told of the shackles pomegranate seeds granted. Juicy orbs that once consumed would bind to the Underworld. Adam’s apple. The seeds sat to her left; the god diligent to include them. Red beads kept in a plain, golden chalice.

He gestured to the cup. “Ever tried pomegranate? They taste like cranberries.”

Persephone glanced at the chalice. The fruit unlike anything she had encountered. Cautious hands reached for the bowl and took a glossy seed. She inspected the fruit. The seed was squishy between Persephone’s fingers. Juice ready to pop. Persephone squeezed the seed, amazed by the red liquid that gushed out. Coral now stained her fingertips. A surprised gasp left Persephone.

“I don’t like cranberries,” Persephone replied.

A comfortable silence fell over the two deities. Overhaul’s heart too broken for him to form words. Persephone too amazed by the Underworld to make idle conversation.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The goddess was behind him; her breath hot against his neck. Persephone had reminded him she didn’t want to get lost, opting instead to become Overhaul’s shadow. A cloak too big for her collected dirt as it dragged. Her form dwarfed by the opulent fabric.

Suddenly, Overhaul stopped. Persephone came to a stop against his back. She felt so warm. Her soft body had no business staying with him. Such beauty deserved a landscape of flowers, not the dull and musty Underworld. Rejection and sorrow was a knife that pierced him.

“What is it, Overhaul?” Persephone asked, her tone basked in interest. The god before her was still a mystery… but within her was a desire to kiss him. To thank him for his hospitality. Overhaul was not the God of the Underworld. He was a saint.

Silence engulfed them. The god struggled to find his words. Despair stuck in his throat.

“Persephone,” he began, “do you… must you leave?” His tone was forlorn. A profound sadness. Stay. Please stay. Goosebumps sprang over Persephone’s arms. His misery had pricked her heart. A hole now forming.

“Spring is beautiful, don’t you think?” Persephone wanted to avoid the question. They both knew the answer. As much as she ached for him, Persephone understood a harsh truth: the coming of spring couldn’t halt for heartstrings.

He recognized what she was doing. His heart throbbed violently against his rib cage, the god no longer brave. Overhaul turned to her. Innocent eyes bore him, a sense of melancholy behind them. Please. Let me kiss away your sadness.

“That’s irrelevant.”

Persephone’s eyes flickered to the earthen ground. It hurt to look at something so beautiful. She blinked away tears. Grief caused the ground to blur. Spots of brown and dull blacks dotted her vision. “I… I can’t stay. But --”

A gentle hand cupped her face, the goddess now face to face with Overhaul. Persephone leaned into his caress. His fingers felt so soft and hot; the sensation almost comforting. Her heart beat against her chest. The organ threatened to leap from her.

“Promise -- promise me you’ll return, Persephone,” he begged. His voice quiet. A god defeated. Overhaul didn’t understand why Persephone felt so good against him. The ghost of a blush now apparent. His last chance.

Lovesick eyes flicked to his lips.

Persephone stood on tip-toes. The goddess now level with Overhaul. Amber eyes watched in anticipation. Breath caught in his windpipe. Please.

She looked pensive. Her brows furrowed together and she cupped his face. Her touch was electric. Every nerve in Overhaul’s body was ablaze. Persephone’s breath was hot against his face. Their bodies melted together.

Her lips quivered as she spoke.

The ritual had, indeed, worked. The fruit of the woman’s labor stood before her; a fire demon known as the Dabi. However, the website didn’t prepare for his sarcastic edge. Every word a veiled insult, the demon akin to a schoolyard bully. Dabi had explained the options available to the woman. He was quarantined to the living room. The ash was his prison. 

“You can break the original circle to free me.” Dabi revealed his teeth, a set of razor fangs in between a red tongue. The demon itched for anarchy. The world of humans was a realm he neglected, preferring the netherworld. A place of debauchery and sin, the woman was told. 

Curious orbs observed the demon, her eyes occasionally fixed upon his horns. So cold, so soft. The thought caused a light flush of crimson. 

“They’re horns,” he deadpanned, obviously annoyed by the woman’s blanant interest. “A brat such as yourself isn’t touching them again.” 

She ignored his teasing. “I read online you’ll trick me. I let you out, and Dabi throws the world into fire and brimstone.” The woman had operated on the assumption the ritual would be a failure. She only wanted witness fires started with no accelerant. Well, and the burning wildfire of a house ablaze. The little things in life.

Dabi laughed, a deep rumbling vibrated from him. He stood across the room, the demon believing himself to be above human furniture. Soot foot prints followed him. By all means, fuck up my floor more. 

“I conjure fire. I’m not a fairy.” He caught her glance; his lips twisted into a smirk. His fangs threatened exposure. “You like what you see?” The absolute bastard thought she was checking him out? 

Crimson flooded the woman’s cheeks. The flush now noticeable as heat began to radiate from her. She had to admit, the demon before her boasted lean muscles, but had the personality of coal. He was rude, sarcastic.

“Your horns look like shit.” 

☼

The rest of the weekend fell into a blur. The fire demon known as Dabi roamed the living room, apathetic hands digging through human trinkets. This annoyed the woman, but felt like a small price in exchange for the brilliant displays of fire. Fireballs localized to her living room. Blue flames that enticed her. 

☼

It was Monday. She was groggy, clearly not a morning person. The woman stepped out of her bedroom; the light scent of smoke lingered in the living room. A reminder of her new guest. 

“I’m not your personal lighter. You want to let me out,” Dabi reasoned. A fire demon now demoted to a sentient cigarette lighter. The woman only called out to him when she was in need of a light or wanted to destress through flames licking at paper. She now kept printer paper around for this very reason. Every fire almost scratching the itch of an uncontrollable blaze. 

The woman blinked away sleep, Dabi’s form coming into focus. 

“Who says you aren’t? Dabi, you said I could do whatever I want,” she yawned. Feelings of arousal were stuffed inside her. The demon had a large enough ego; he didn’t deserve to see a mewling mess as he conjured an inferno. Tired hands clenched. The thought of Dabi’s devilishly handsome features set against a pyre was an occasional guilty fantasy.  

Dabi tilted his head, his earrings illustrated by the early sun. A snarl now planted on his features.

“Brat.”

She ignored his insult. The woman focused on her morning routine. Not owning a car meant carpooling. An activity the young salary woman hated. Strangers occupying such a small space should be filed under torture. 

A soft voice echoed from the bathroom. “I’ll be home late, going to attend a bonfire. Don’t go through my shit again.” Since acquiring the demon, the woman would return home to the living room in chaos. Cabinets opened, the contents thrown across the room. Boredom was dangerous for Dabi. Little fire rat.

“Whatever.” 

☼

The intoxicated woman struggled to unlock her apartment. Soft giggles flowed from her. She eventually conquered the lock and stumbled into the dark living room. Dabi’s lean form leaned against the couch. His typical stoic expression painted across his face.

“How was the fire, brat?” Dabi asked, his lip piercings illuminated by the moon. A smirk threatened to pull at his lips. Calling the pyromaniac a brat was satisfying. 

Another giggle bubbled from the woman. A grin plastered. “It was fucking cool! The fire was so big, Dabi!” The woman’s voice displayed blunt excitement. Dabi’s fire is cooler, though. Fuck.

“Bonfires don’t compete with the demon of cremation. You look flustered.” Dabi hoped the comment would plant embarrassment within the woman. He wanted to see her squirm. Revenge, he reasoned, for all the lustful glints the pyromaniac held during demonstrations of Dabi’s fire. 

She touched her cheek; the heat was still present. 

“I drank tonight. Never seen a drunk human before?” 

The woman swayed. The room spun. Dabi’s form now a blurred vision. 

Dabi wasn’t disconnected enough from human culture to forget the important ritual of alcohol. The demon wasn’t stupid. Dabi found his eyes wandering her form. The woman’s clumsy nature was cute. A loud mouth brat reduced to a flustered mess. 

“Fires must get you all wet, huh? Unless a brat like you got sweaty,” Dabi said, a hint of teasing in his tone. It was impossible for the demon to ignore the legs that pressed together during his free showings of blue fire. An obvious attempt to hide her passion. 

She looked away from the demon. Blurry eyes now glued to the hardwood floor. She could feel the steam rising from her face. Dabi was overstimulating in such a drunken state.

“No, Dabi. It was fucking hot. Bonfire and all.” Dabi admired the way his name left her lips. He wondered what she’d sound like chanting his name in desire. Would she whine? 

Dabi stood up, a bundle of want now hot against his thigh. The young pyromaniac was the subject of his fantasies while she was gone. Masturbation was second nature to demons. An act that was necessary. He crossed the distance between them. The woman’s eyes still focused upon the floor. 

“Like this?” he questioned, as an azure flame blossomed from his palm, the flame small. The demon wanted to rile her up. Dabi knew the look in her eye. 

Eyes tried in vain to ignore the fire before them. The woman chose to instead stare at the cremation demon. Dangerous looks married with disfigured skin. A devil in sheep’s clothing. 

“N-no, stupid. I’m tired. Going to bed.” 

Wobbly legs attempted to make an escape, eyes trained upon the floor. Dabi knew his window of opportunity was closing. “Look at me.” A mangled hand reached out and latched onto her wrist. 

The woman froze. Dabi had never touched her before. The demon’s hand felt like a grave. Frigid and wilted. His staples were cool against her skin. Reminders of what he was. Reluctant eyes met his gaze. Raven locks obscured his eyes. 

“Let me go,” she hissed. The woman now painfully aware of the implications of a stranger in her home. The hint of smoke evaporated from the air and was replaced by the burnt smell of cinnamon. Azure fire burned in the demon’s free hand. 

“Look,” Dabi pressed, the fire now a small inferno within his palm. The sight was almost orgasmic for the young pyromaniac. Cobalt flames swirled in his hand, the beginning of a tornado. A muffled sigh betrayed her. Her attention finally on Dabi. A smirk broke out on the demon’s face. The object of his desires engrossed in him. 

“Really fucking cool and all, Dabi, but I’m tired.”

Dabi’s grip on the woman’s wrist tightened. A wince shot through her face. His patience was wearing thin. “Stop being such a brat.” He pulled the toxicated woman towards him, the fire in his free hand now extinguished. She bumped against his fleshy chest. Cold staples rested against her face. 

The  young pyromaniac buried her face in the demon’s chest. His lean muscles offered the ideal camouflage for a blushing face. He smelled of ash. Even his scent was alluring. 

“You smell nice,” she mused, swallowing his scent. The ash only coaxed her. A giggle bubbled from her. “Can I touch the horns?”

Dabi debated his answer. The possibility of undressing the woman before him was too great. His mind danced with crude images of her naked form, his need now hard against his thigh.

“Wow,” Dabi said, sarcasm dripping from his words, “it’s surprising you asked.” A scarred hand sneaked around her waist, the woman too inebriated to notice. She felt soft against his mangled form. Warm. 

She leaned further into him. The alcohol reached a peak. “I’ll give you my stupid panties… To… to touch your horns.” Words slurred together. The confession muffled against him. Dabi’s other hand pulled the woman closer. The demon now greedy for her touch. 

Dabi ruffled her hair. 

“You’re giving me your panties anyway.”

Suddenly, the urge to pee hit the woman. Her bladder reduced to a pea. Alcohol ultimately caught up to her. She didn’t remember how much she drank, but judging by the hiccups and slurred speech, she was wasted. Her mind a drunken cloud except the erotic thoughts of Dabi. 

“I have to piss first,” the woman blurted out. The words rushed out of her and hung in the air. A silence fell over them. Their bodies frozen together. 

Dabi was certain the woman could wait. His desire was far too dire for her to run off to potty. The demon now intoxicated by her presence. “I think you can wait.” Without warning, Dabi dipped patchwork fingers under her pants, resting atop the hem of her panties. “I can smell how wet you are.” A slender finger ran down her slit. The woman shuddered from his touch.

“Seriously. I have to fucking piss. My bladder,” she whined. Her bladder felt as if it might burst, the pressure almost too much. 

He ignored her complaint. The demon gingerly moved the woman’s panties to the side, her womanhood now displayed to him. A pink core slick with arousal. His interest proved too much as he traced her swollen clit with a thumb. The soft flesh throbbing against him. 

“Such a brat and yet you’re soaked. Don’t be so impatient. You can wait,” Dabi said, his tone assuring. In one motion, the cremation demon slipped a finger inside her. Moist walls contracted around him. Her cunt. All mine.

Slowly, Dabi pumped his finger. Ritualistic moans murmured against the moist sounds of her body. His finger prodded against her bladder, the pressure increasing. The woman’s bladder threatened to explode. 

“Dabi,” she begged, “I need to fucking pee. Please.” Her begging only encouraged him; the demon now roughly pumping his finger. Dabi began to curl his finger inside her. Selfish hands hungry for her moans. Her sounds were euphoric to him, even better than his fantasies, the sound delicate and heavy. Hot breathe rhythmic against his bare chest. She leaned into him, nerves desperate for him.

The stimulation proved to be too intense. The intoxicated woman released her bladder, pee leaking down her leg. Relief washed over her, leaving her spine tingling. Her face burned. A crimson blush radiated against her skin. 

The sentence tumbled from her. “I’m so fucking sorry, oh my god. I -- I told you, stupid! It’s not my fault… you -- you didn’t listen!” She was adorable like this. A stammering, embarrassed mess. Dabi licked his lips. Predator explaining their prey. 

“Is the little brat embarrassed because she pissed herself?” Dabi teased, fangs against the moonlight. 

“Shut the fuck up.” The young pyromaniac tried to detach herself from the demon. Dabi held fast, hands tangled across her body’s landscape. “I’m not a brat.” Her face again escaped within Dabi’s lean chest.

“Make me, brat.”

The flustered woman took the challenge, two hands captured Dabi’s face. With the aid of tip toes, she kissed him. Two lips trapped in lust. After an eternity, they separated for air. Both pairs of lips now exposed to the cool air.

She was positive this time the ritual was flawless. The wooden floor displayed various burnt circles, all failed attempts. Drawing a perfect circle required practice. The task took longer due to the woman’s poor eyesight. Each circle had been abused for her ritual. Flecks of spice decorated them. Squinted eyes observed the shape. A smile plastered across her face. Yes, this was it.

Without haste, the young woman began to prepare the circle. Spices and herbs sprinkled around the scorched area, candles set in an outer half circle. The website had dictated no less than six inches between the burnt circle and the candles. A measurement the woman abided by. She was never one to stray from the usual. A strict woman.

It was the woman’s craft that led her to this. She was a minor pyromaniac. Blazes would send the flesh on her arms into euphoric goosebumps. The delight almost aroused her. She felt like she could devour the flames and become one. A hot exchange of fire and flesh. That thought aroused her. Fire licking at sensitive flesh; her face flushed with pleasure.

She squeezed her legs together. Thoughts pooled against her; the moist fabric of her panties noticeable. The woman had stumbled upon the site by accident. Her nightly viewing consisted of the occult and found footage of infernos. The woman’s interest in the occult was merely a hobby. She had heard hushed whispers speak of despicable flame demons. Monsters that used to ravish ancestors. Originally, she had assumed them to be rumors. However, the woman’s hunt for knowledge had gotten the better of her.

☼

The website looked like it was out of ‘97. Poorly animated neon graphics decorated the page, the cursor a tongue-in-cheek broom. In big circle letters read the site’s title: ‘Occult for Dummies~!’. It was almost cute. A website obviously made by a student for some web design class. She had chuckled at the thought. Curious fingers clicked the first graphic: ‘How to Summon Him~!’.

Him?  

Tired eyes tried to decipher the page. Foreign symbols and phrases were sprinkled through the article. The article was confusing. As if the summoning of a demon was science. As if it were real. She clicked off the page. A tidal wave of sleep washed over her.

☼

‘How to Summon Him~!’ had faded into obscurity. The woman’s mind consumed with the routine of suburbia. Job, go home, sleep. A schedule of mundane. However, a particular event revived the memory.

It was Friday. Promises on the weekend were a privilege for her; a much needed break from the conventional pattern. Normalcy was a bore for the young pyromaniac. Habitual work peppered in with sleep was tedious somehow. This is why infernos excited her; their chaotic, violent nature. Brilliant oranges and reds popping against kindling. The aroma of smoke invoked a sense of peace within her.

She was headed home. The traffic backed against the mid-afternoon sun. Heat pressed into her back, the woman seeking relief from a rolled window. Bored eyes scanned the road before, no stop in sight. She sighed. A soft sound stuck in the humid air.

Seeing it had caused a lump of excitement to form in her throat. The woman’s eyes stuck to a blossoming cloud of obsidian. A fire’s threat against the horizon. Air rushed from her lungs; the organ now starved for oxygen. The woman anxiously glanced around, traffic still thick as syrup.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Wobbly legs escaped the vehicle, trembling hands fumbled with the locks. Arousal mixing with sweat. The sun beat against her. The woman’s face ablaze from embarrassment and exertion. She shuffled to the sidewalk. An inferno awaiting her. Passion budded in her chest. The smell of smoke was an aphrodisiac. Legs carried her in search of the blaze.

Eventually, whiffs of smoke evolved into the asphyxiation of smog. An audible moan echoed into the black cloud; the sensation of choking was erotic. Helpless.

Before the woman stood the ancient, smoldering bones of a building, the inside reduced to charred bits of wood; phantoms of a house. Fire no longer raged inside. Little orange sparks against dying embers. The woman sighed. She never quite arrived early enough to see a fire in full force. Hungry flames that engulfed man and structure.

‘Occult for Dummies~!’ ‘Learn How to Summon Dabi: the Demon of Cremation!’

☼

“Okay, now I need… Oh fuck, yeah, I need the paper,” the pyromaniac thought aloud. A scrap of paper somehow hidden among the mess of soot and herbs. After furious digging, the woman found it. She had scribbled the phrases that were necessary on a scrap of singed paper. Abuse from failed attempts had reduced the sheet to a palm sized remnant.

Archaic words sprang forth from the woman; the evoking of a chant.

☼

Oh my fucking god. Jesus Christ. What the fuck?

She awoke from a daze, joints aching from an uncomfortable position. Her hardwood floors offered no support. The woman blinked sleep from her eyes. Had… had she fallen asleep again? Anticipating a myth?

Doubt settled in the pyromaniac’s chest. Perhaps, she did. Fucking stupid. The woman stood up, feet smudging soot. She didn’t quite remember turning off the nights or… how stupidly cold it was. Goose flesh prickled against the chill. Moonlight cast into the room; a faint LED 61 the only other light source. An awkward laugh echoed from her. Right. Sixty-one.  

Frigid hands reached blindly against the wall. Light flooded the modest space. Tired eyes noticed nothing suspicious. The scrap of burnt paper was simply that charred. Blackened ash sat underneath the occultist instruction. Her eyes lingered at the soot. It felt wrong. Soot had not… Had not been there before.

An exasperated sigh escaped the woman. Nothing would get done with such needless paranoia. The very idea was ridiculous. No stalker or crazy neighbor would break in, only to leave a slip of paper in embers. Who would just burn one piece ? Such a pathetic sliver of paper would require kindling. No inferno wasn’t complete without kindling.

☼

No light filtered through the blackout curtains; the young woman instead experiencing the shrill sound of an alarm. Negative ASMR. Sleepy hands fumbled in the darkness, eventually disarming the alarm. Stale breathe expelled into the room. The woman’s body still trapped in sleep. Muscles slack against a willing body.

“What… What the --”

Before she could finish her muttering, a foreign raspy voice resounded through the door. His true tone muffled from the wood.

“Gonna let me in?” He sounded bored. As if it was a usual activity to break into a single woman’s apartment and stand menacingly behind her bedroom door! This guy is a fucking pervert. Quick. Quick. She sat up; her body thrown into survival. I have scissors! Adrenaline filled legs carried the woman to the bathroom, her legs quivering from fear.

A rough knock broke her concentration. Blunt scissors were poised in her grip. The woman now adequately prepared for an intruder.

“I know you’re in there. You move like a mouse.”

The man’s tone held a hint of annoyance. Obviously, her reaction was inordinary.

Soft footsteps thumped through the room as she attempted to move quietly. Action movies taught surprise attacks. Hot breath was forced from her lungs. Her chest felt ablaze. The desperate sounds only fueled her anxiety.

The woman found her voice. “Get the fuck out. I mean it. I -- I have a fucking bat, asshole!” She waved around the scissors, trying to emulate bravery. Perhaps, he would buy her bluff.

“Little bit of a brat. Oh well. Your loss, I guess. I was summoned by you anyway,” the mysterious man replied, a throaty chuckle muffled. A sarcastic undertone in his voice.

Summoned?

“I summoned you? What the fuck are you talking about? Are you mentally deficient?” she mocked, a trembling hand against the cold door knob. The woman’s doubt mirrored through the warped brass.

Anxiety shot up the woman’s spine as she felt the knob jiggle. Horror ate into her belly; the woman paralyzed with fear.

“You’re not the pyro that started all those shit circles?” he asked.

Shit circles?!

The woman turned the knob. The wooden door ripped open, scissors in hand. “Listen, asshole. You can’t break into my home and tell me how shitty it is!” The words boomed from her tiny frame; the woman hopelessly dwarfed by the stranger in her living room. “It took me fucking hours.”

She noticed his skin first. A tapestry of pale flesh and charred remains, stitched together by staples that glistened in the moonlight. Electric turquoise eyes watched her. A stoic expression bore into his face. Messy strands of obsidian framed his face; a distinctive pair of horns sprouted from his head. Miniature goat horns coated in the same obsidian with specks of dull blue. Silver mismatched earrings hung from his lobes, the man’s only garment a pair of black shorts.

“Holy shit. Are you okay?”

The scarred man’s gaze didn’t falter. “No wonder. You barely summoned me.” His eyes traveled down her form. The scissors stayed to the woman’s hip. This man was mentally unhinged.

A laugh erupted from the woman. No fucking way. NO fucking way.  

“I know what this looks like,” she said, a free hand gesturing to the various ashened circles that decorated her floor. No getting the deposit back now. “I had a mild fire. It’s fine now. Uh, are you drunk? Were you at a con?” She had to admit the horns looked hyper realistic. As if they were an organic part of him.

“No. Don’t you listen? You,” he pointed to the woman, “summoned me.” The mortal before him was a brat. Her behavior was unbecoming. She should be worshiping him, begging the fire demon to wreak havoc.

The woman’s brows pulled together. A pensive quiet overcame the two. Lack of sleep was apparent. Fuck. What was a question to ask him? ‘Hey Dabi, those horns a prosthetic?’ She racked her brain to conjure the next step from the article. A crucial aspect she had neglected to write down.

A trembling hand reached up and grasped the man’s horn. The appendage felt solid. Craftsmanship was obviously a concern. She rubbed the horn, a soft vinyl met her touch.

“These bad boys real?” The question rushed from her mouth; the woman not realizing how crass she sounded. An urge to tug on them crept into her.

He smacked her hand away. A stern look now painted on his face. First, a stupid brat summons him. Now, she’s fondled his horns. The man felt insulted.