Demon Summoning for Idiots [BNHA x female reader]

Hawks (Epilogue/Smut)

Apparently demons can get hangovers too.

"No," he complains when you try to roll off the couch, pulling you closer and folding his wings in even tighter, like they'll be able to protect him from the blinding afternoon sun. He looks like a miserable fluffy caterpillar, and you can't muster enough energy to fight through both him and the ache in your skull.

---

He mopes around for an entire week, alternating between invading your personal space to make sure you're not suddenly going to deflate into a puddle on the ground, and giving you a wide berth and casting big, mournful eyes in your general direction. You ask him if he's okay. He gives you a thumbs-up, and goes right back to making kicked-puppy faces the moment you turn away.

You drag him to a UFO-machine arcade and waste two hours of your life and fifty bucks trying to win a chicken plushie.

"My name is Hawks, not Chickens," he says, but when you give it to him he squishes its pudgy body in his hands and stops looking like he might sad himself to death, so it's worth it.

---

You have no idea what he does when you're at work, but he's taken to showing up outside the train station when you clock out. Your colleagues don't really buy your explanation that your roommate goes like, an hour out of his way to pick you up, but it's better than telling them he's a demon you summoned with hot sauce.

To his credit, he doesn't look (or act) like a serial killer, so no one's asking any weird questions. It's kind of nice to have someone to hang out with on the long ride home.

"Why can't we just fly back?" he complains, but no one asked him to come meet you, and you're pretty sure security cameras can spot a flying object, even if it's going really, really fast.

---

A popular travel photography blog gets featured online, and when you see the chicken plushie that's in almost every photo you finally figure out what he's been doing in his free time.

"I get paid for this!" he says, uploading photos of an island that's so small and so remote it requires a chartered boat to reach. You try not to feel too bitter about being a mere mortal, and, as if he can sense it, he turns around to look, rustling his wings in an irritatingly smug kind of way. You retaliate by trying to hold his chicken plush hostage, but he just looks so sad all over again that you give it back. Instantly. Because you're a sucker.

---

He was always a kind of in-your face sort of person (demon), but ever since that whole thing with the flying and the copious amounts of alcohol, he's gotten even more touchy-feely. He'll squish up around you on the couch, making it almost impossible to eat neatly, constantly shoving himself so close that you inadvertently end up jammed against the end of the sofa like an afterthought. He'll stand as close to you on the train as he can, casually ignoring the odd looks and your attempts at elbowing him in the ribs and sticking to you all the way back to the apartment.

It gets to the point where you get back one evening and find him trying to drag the pull-out sofa nearer your room, "just in case". In case of what? He shrugs, and nonchalantly continues rearranging your furniture. You give up, because he's nice and fluffy and relaxing and you like him (and also he's already paid, like, a year's worth of rent in advance).

---

"Hey, did you know that there's someone in this apartment complex dating a demon?" he says, poking his head into the room, and you really wish he'd close the front door behind him first before bringing up demons. Also there's no way that's true, but you let it go because it's his turn to get dinner.