A little thing I wrote after seeing @jellojolteon AMAZING art. I promised I wouldn’t write anything. But here I am. Writing. For this. Fan art. That I love. So freaking. Much.
Enjoy this little drabble!! (also listen to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e5PfSGBO3Ic while reading)
He growled, smacking the boiler. “C’mon c’mon,” he muttered. He needed it to work. It was the key part of his plan. He was going to fill the building above (where a meeting was being held) with a toxic gas that would cause hallucinations, and unveil the CEO as the scum he was.
But without the boiler he could kiss that paycheck goodbye. He smacked it one last time and let out a whoop as it started.
He grinned at the gritty ceiling, try and stop him now.
He plastered a smile on his face, trying to ignore the flutter of his heart or the tinge of excitement he felt. “Oh, Uravity. Nice of you to float by. Do you need something pinky?” He asked, knowing the name grinded on her nerves.
He laughed. “Of course you are.” Her eyes flashed, seeming to glow in the dim lighting. They read of pain and hurt. He let himself smirk.
He enjoyed the thrill of fighting her. It was some sort of poison. It was toxic, but thrilling and exhilarating. He loved the thrill of the danger. She forced out a laugh. “Well what else would I be here for?” She barked.
His smirk turned wolfish. “A kiss from me? Maybe more?” He purred. He enjoyed teasing her.
She snorted. “How about I kick your ass? That sounds more fun,” she growled. He mocked hurt. It was a little too real for his taste.
“Ouch Uravity. Can’t have a little bit of fun?”
“There are innocent people you are going to hurt!”
His eyes flashed with his anger, she stepped forward, he blocked the boiler with his body. “And?” He snapped. “Those ‘innocent’ people have hurt more than I have.”
She growled, stalking forward. Her heels clacked against the cement, making his skin erupt into goosebumps. “What’s your point, you hurt people. And those upstairs are more than business men and women.”
She got close enough for him to reach out and touch her. He ignored the urge to do so. Her skin looked soft under the glow of the controls. But she was mad.
He snapped himself out of his thoughts, she brushed a finger along the seams of his jacket. His lips were parted in a breathless gasp. Her hands gripped the fabric tight as she pulled him off the controls, nose so close to his.
“I hate you,” she growled.
She was toxic. It wasn’t right. They were on different sides of the law.
But it was the rush of feelings and heat that kept him still.
Her lips turned into a sneer. “You are going to prison.”
“If you can get me there,” he whispered. She let out a growl of exasperation.
His eyes darted to her lips. He had never been close enough to kiss a hero before.
Let along one he was in love with.
She caught his gaze, and growled again. “Don’t even.” He let himself smile again, eyes flicking up to meet hers again. Her hands tightened. He licked his lips, eyes darting back down to hers again. Who knew a hero could be so…amazing.
“You’re amazing, you know,” he whispered. She blanched, but caught herself again.
“Flattery gets you nowhere,” she gasped. He didn’t miss the red glowing against her cheeks. She was beautiful. Full of hatred for him.
He kept his gaze on her mouth, she pursed her lips. He wondered how he fell so low.
A beep went off, they both moved. Him to protect it, her to turn it off.
A stolen glance, and she smashed her mouth on his.
He froze, her hand shifted to turn the machine off. He moved, holding that arm, lacing their fingers, being careful not to touch all five. She growled against him, shifting to turn everything off and keep him pinned. The taste of her lips sent him on a ride of emotions.
He was slipping under again.
But it was a different slip.
He kissed her back, trying to block her from turning everything off.
She let go, pushing him away, turning off the boiler. Foiling his plan.
He didn’t…he didn’t seem to mind though. She growled, spinning to look at him. He was frozen, pressed against his own machine.
“I hate you,” she whispered. “I hate you! I hate you!”
“I love you,” he replied. She froze, and then screamed.
She yanked his jacket again, slamming him into the boiler. Her eyes were seething. But there was something else in them. “I hate you so much,” she whispered, pressing another angry kiss on his lips.
She pushed again, and stomped off. “You have an hour to get away before I come after you. With backup,” she said, shooting him a look over her shoulder.
He didn’t move. She scoffed, walking off.
When she was out of sight, he pressed a finger to his mouth.
That gaze, passion, kiss. He was addicted to her. So toxic. So…infatuating.
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