Boku No Hero Academia One Shots [Book 2]

Atsuhiro Sako ღ Mr Compress

Requested by: Shinrasgirl

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During the reign of such frightfully-stormy nights, the most sensible option was, of course, to seek shelter. Luckily for your heart, whose thunderous palpitations appeared to mirror the wrath of the sky gods, you had escaped to the security of an abandoned warehouse, in the company of a certain, talkative magician. Your nerves were illuminating, thousands of tiny wings caressing the lining of your stomach. It wasn't often that the two of you (both high-ranking members of the League) earned the privilege of assisting one another on missions. Despite his garrulous tongue, he still possessed an air of mystery.

Was that the extent of his allure?

Heaven forbid! Each and every acknowledgeable aspect of that man drew you in, from his words of humour to those captivating, hazel eyes, which he rarely ever displayed. Yet, good fortune had embraced you tonight, for you were currently witnessing the removal of his mask. It was an amusing accessory, and definitely added to the enigma, but you desperately wanted to gaze upon his face - without that blasted balaclava.

As you watched, a glare darkened your features. All the memories of that...displeasing encounter between the League and the young Yakuza leader, Overhaul, suddenly came rushing back. Your fury was barely containable. That shitty bastard had destroyed the arm of your beloved, and even though he didn't vocalise any ill will towards him, you knew that the recollection still pained him. Just the way he looked at that prosthetic arm, the fire in his eyes dwindling almost down to nothingness, fractured your heart. You swore that you would claim revenge for him. 

It was your duty, as his future wife.

It seemed that he hadn't yet realised your feelings, which were gradually blossoming into an unhealthy obsession, the longer you played best friends with Himiko. However, unlike the blonde, you were generally quite adept at keeping them under wraps.

For now.

This could change, depending on the course of the evening.

While entangled within the web of your mind, you vaguely heard him sigh, "Who would have thought us bested by a simple storm?"

You hummed, trying to show (discreetly) that you cared for his words. The man was always attention-hungry, and you typically offered up much time to listen to his long monologues. You loved them. His 'stage voice', as he termed it, was strangely seductive, but you adored these times, when his voice was raw and genuine. It was hypnotic, and you could lap up his words for hours.

"I wonder how long we'll be trapped in here for...Perhaps an eternity?" 

Gods, what a drama queen.

This man was everything - and so much more!

Only half an ear was tuned in when he continued. "Well, I suppose I wouldn't mind an eternity, as long as I'm able to spend it with you."

Once again, you hummed, although it took a few moments for his suggestive dialogue to actually sink in. It draped an opaque sheet over your other thoughts - they weren't nearly as important as this! Was your face alight? Did you require medical assistance? You could feel cardiac arrest incoming! Did he...was this perhaps a wishful daydream? Or maybe your fantasies bleeding into the fabric of reality? A gloved hand reached for your cheek, latching on with a feather-light touch. Your mouth hung open, then closed just as fast. You wanted to question his words, his actions, but nothing tumbled from your tongue.

"Did you hear me, my dear?"

But those narrowed, chocolate orbs weren't directed at your own pair of confused crystals. No - they chased after a sweeter prize: your lips, plump and kissable. This illusion was growing stronger by the second, overcome with passion, until you were forced to admit the truth. This was far from an illusion. You had fallen deeply, when he cast his spell, and now, his payment awaited.

The lips of a Siren were truly delectable. 

[Word Count: 646]