#the way tumblr just sort of ... ate it

[mababwionarts]

Sneak peak for Chapter 8 Wings of Time!

[elemental-daddy-neos]

So while the name "Kaito Faker" would sound horrible, anyone else think it's kinda strange that neither of Dr. Faker's kids have the same last name as him? Their last names being Tenjo implies they're named after their mother, who is never seen, heard, or mentioned once throughout the entire duration of the show (unless I'm forgetting something super small, in which case tell me)

But who IS their mother? I'm sure plenty of people have talked this one to death already, but the idea of her being from Astral World has become kind of a favorite fan theory of mine considering Haruto looks like this...

There's no way he's not meant to resemble an Astralite

He and Astral both have those round head things, and his outfit resembles the line markings that Astral has on his body. Haruto has gold eyes, while Astral's got silver and gold, which I guess you could chalk up to him being like... Artificially created? If I'm remembering right? I haven't watched Zexal in so long help sodkdmdk

Blue seems to be a very common eye color for Astralites, with colors like gold being a rare exception, since the only ones who seem to have it are Enna...

And Eliphas, once again with the heterochromia

Why is he the only one other than Astral to have like,,, defined eyes by the way? No one else is good enough to get pupils and all that? They just have the entire eye be one color unless they're special? Mister "I'm the will of the entire planet so only I get to have special eyes" smh.

Seriously I want to understand their biology so badly someone please tell me what all these little details about their bodies mean

ANYWAYS I got distracted, but going back to the whole Kaito and Haruto are Astral hybrids theory, the only issues with it are the canon timeline of events. Faker wasn't shown to have started getting involved in this whole other world business until 5 years before the start of the show, meaning Kaito would have been 13 when his dad met Vector and agreed to destroy Astral World. Him having an Astral mom would need to have been a thing even further back than that, which would require Faker to have met an Astral being at least 13 years before he ever met Vector. But what would an Astralite be doing on Earth if they didn't have a mission to be there? After all, Earth is full of primitive beings who like chaos, so why would anyone go there?

Well.

This is all just me throwing ideas out there, but what if it were Enna? For one thing, she's shown protecting the children on her planet in a lot of her scenes, so she kind of gives off that motherly figure energy.

For another, she's also the only adult woman we ever see on that planet, as everyone else is either a child or Eliphas.

Enna is also like. Pro chaos, which is a very human thing (also a very Barian thing all things considered, but since Faker was still very much the dad, we'll keep going under the assumption that he and Enna could have been a thing.) Like she was very much for chaos being used to heal the residents of her world, which was kind of a radical viewpoint for her to have considering all the centuries they've spent casting it out completely. Accepting chaos seems to be a very outside way of thinking for her people, and while it is entirely possible that she simply saw people suffering and came to the conclusion on her own that getting rid of chaos just wasn't helping anyone, it'd be kinda cool if she picked that perspective up on a trip to Earth.

At this point this is becoming more of a "wouldn't it be cool if" type of post rather than a theory, but... I mean, wouldn't it be cool if Faker's role in Zexal I had been trying to connect Astral World and Earth so that he wouldn't be galaxies away from the mother of his children? Idk, I think that'd have been a way neater plot than him trying to destroy it to help his sick child, and you wouldn't have to change around Too much of the plot to make it happen. Kite would still be hunting numbers, albeit for a different reason, but still a reason related to his family. Vector likely wouldn't appear until the very end of Zexal I and could have been a boss fight. In the original plot, he had that deal with Faker that he'd heal his sick son in exchange for destroying Astral World, but you could either nix that entirely, or have Faker agree initially with every intent of double crossing Vector and having his true intentions be to get Haruto home with his other parent where he'll be safe, regardless of what happens to him as a result.

Once again, my opinion, but. I think it'd be better than what they actually did with Faker's character, having him seem cruel and evil up to the very end, not seeming to care about his son and in fact seeming to enjoy hurting him, only for a last minute reveal that he doesn't actually hate him despite all his actions showing otherwise, he had his best interests in mind the whole time, no really stop laughing. A rewrite like this would actually show him willing to do anything to keep his son out of harm's way, regardless of what might happen to him after Haruto is out of danger, and would make him far more deserving of the redemption the show tried to give him (which really was not deserved in canon all things considered, and it didn't even come from the right person, it came from Yuma, someone not part of the family he'd been hurting, but that's another separate rant.)

Like... I don't know man, I feel like Zexal gave us too many hints about Haruto not being from this world, what his his whole deal in season one, his appearance, etc, and then they just kinda let it fall flat? They set up a possible reveal for him that they just never really followed through on. :/ And I haven't even talked about his brother yet.

Kaito doesn't bear as strong a resemblance to your typical Astralite, or if he does, it's more... Subtle.

I've seen others point out that both Astral and Kaito have hair that curves up, but given that it's just these two who have that trait while all the other background citizens on Astral's home planet seem to have hair that either spikes outward or flows down, I'm not sure if that's a strong point for or against the possibility that they share a common background... Kaito also has blue eyes, which we've established as a common color for Astralites, but since it's also a common enough human eye color, it feels like a bit of a reach to call that proof, too. His dad's got purple eyes, so he definitely didn't get the color from Faker, but it's also Yugioh, so relatives having completely dissimilar characteristics isn't exactly uncommon... The two traits Kaito has that could link him to being from Astral's world could just as easily be a coincidence.

You know what's weird about Kaito? Photon Transformation. I mean, where does he even get that ability from? It's never fully explained how he'd able to do it, he just does it, and whatever it does to him, somehow hurts him to use it. That could possibly point to him not being fully human if the other half of his heritage is able to pull off something like that naturally, but we once again know so little about Astralites that it winds up being speculation again.

I haven't actually watched Zexal in a very hot minute btw, so if anyone wants to chime in to correct me on something I got wrong/add in something I missed, go right ahead!

[lbhslefttiddie]

I haven’t seen you around much here lately, so I just wanted to say I hope you’re doing well ^^ . If you have any life challenges going on right now, I believe in you to conquer them!!!

thank you!!! the life challenges is my phone and computer both had a stroke and died within a month of each other 😔 it was super cursed but im cool im being very brave about it

[lovecuprite]

Kinktober Day 4 - Brat Taming with Ryomen Sukuna

contains: nsfw content:(mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, spanking, orgasm denial, oral (reader giving), v brief breath play, no aftercare, this is consensual but it might seem dubcon at times so i'll say that just in case

˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc:- 7.3k (sorry!)

an: if you saw this yesterday, tumblr ate most of it, so this is the proper version with the full 7k

The air was tight in the luxurious chambers, thick with the underlying current of power and danger that came with being near Sukuna. You knew it all too well, and still, today you chose to push the boundaries.

Maybe it was the way his attention had moved onto others, or maybe you just wanted to feel his power focused on you. Either way, your defiance had earned you more than a few sharp looks throughout the day.

He had been so patient at first, watching as you deliberately disobeyed his orders, meeting his gaze with a silent challenge in your eyes. It was a dangerous game, one which you knew would only end one way, but a small part of you relished it, even craved the inevitable punishment that would follow.

Piqued annoyance now danced in his expression as you stood before him in the dark-lit room. The light of the candles danced across his tattooed skin as he leaned back into the cushion, arms over his chest, eyes intent on him-like some sort of predator sizing his prey.

"You have been bold today, haven't you?" Sukuna said, his voice low and almost a purr, but beneath the smoothness lay a warning. Crimson eyes shone with something dark and predatory as he watched you with unsettling intensity.

You didn't move, not as your heart raced in your chest; your eyes still flashed defiance, though it wavered a little under his gaze. Sukuna noticed, of course-he noticed everything.

He laughed darkly, the sound rumbling through the room like distant thunder. "What's the matter? The little concubine thinks she can disobey her king?" His voice was thick with mockery, but beneath it lay an unmistakable edge of menace.

You still wouldn't back down, even as the chill ran down your spine. "I'm not scared of you," you said-the defiance in your voice, a lot stronger than the quiver in your chest.

His smirk only widened, eyes glinting in the low light. "Is that so?" He pushed off from the cushions, standing to his full height in a fluid-almost graceful-movement. Sukuna towered over you, the suffocating presence of his power that made the air around you thick and heavy.

He took a slow, deliberate step toward you, each step echoing in the chamber as he never so much as broke gaze with yours. “You forget your place, little one. And I think it’s about time I remind you exactly who you answer to.”

You swallowed hard but stood your ground, your heart pounding while he drew nearer. He was testing you now, pushing the limits of your defiance, testing how far you would go. But you couldn't halt the quickening of your pulse in anticipation, the thrill coursing through you despite the danger.

Sukuna stopped only a few millimetres away from you, his giant physique casting a shadow over your small frame. He cocked his head as he reached out, crimson eyes shining with dark humour, and brushed one of his hands against your cheek, the touch feather light, deceptive.

"You've been a brat all day," he mused, the soft low tone of his voice a direct contrast to the danger swimming inside him. "And I'm not fond of brats. You know that."

And before he could receive a reaction from you, the other hand shot out, clutching at your chin in a firm grip, making you look up at him. His touch wasn't gentle anymore; it was commanding, dominant, a silent reminder of who was in charge here.

"You really think you can challenge me?" His voice now a dark growl, his eyes narrowing as he watched you struggle to hold his gaze. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, teasing, almost mocking, as he leaned down closer. "You forget who I am, don't you?"

You shivered, but the stubborn fire in your eyes remained, even as his grip tightened slightly, his thumb pressing against your lip until you parted them with a soft gasp; he smirked, clearly amused despite himself.

“I could break you,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous as his lips hovered just above yours. “Make you beg for me. But I can also make you wait… draw it out until you remember who’s in control.”

The heat between your bodies flared and he held you there, so close yet still out of reach. The tension was palpable, a heady mix of desire and fear as the resolve within you started to crumble under the fierce stare that bound you against your will to him.

When he finally moved, it was with brutal precision. Sukuna spun you around, pressing your front to the cool wall of the chamber with ease, one hand tangled in your hair as he pulled your head back slightly. "You wanted my attention, didn't you?" he said, his voice a dangerous whisper in your ear as his hot breath danced across your skin, his hand trailing down your back. “Well, now you have it.”

You gasped, your body arching instinctively into his touch as his hand slid lower, gripping your hips possessively. “Don’t think for a second that you can get away with this behaviour” he growled, his voice a dangerous promise as his fingers dug into your flesh.

Sukuna yanked your hips back against him, his body pressing firmly against yours as he leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You’re going to regret testing me,” he whispered darkly, his breath hot and heavy against your skin. His hand slid around to your front, teasing you just enough "Now," he growled huskily, the scent of dominance emanating s he leaned in closer, his lips grazing your neck and nipping the sensitive skin there to set fireworks, something he could so easily do with a mere touch. "Beg me to put you back in your place."

You knew he was playing with you, waiting for you to submit again, but you couldn't help how your body betrayed you-the pooling of heat so low in your stomach as his words fired up something deep inside. Caged in his grip, cornered against the wall, you still couldn’t refrain from pushing once more.

“No.”

“No? Okay.” he chuckled darkly, his tone shifting from playful to deadly serious. “Strip.”

You briefly turned your head and looked at him, unsure and as you hesitated, he added with a wicked smirk, “Do it or I’ll do it for you.”

The thought of him tearing the delicate fabric from your body sent a thrill through you. The weight of his gaze bore down on you, and you felt the pull of his dominance wrapping around you like a shroud. Your heart raced with the thrill of the challenge, but a deeper part of you—a primal instinct—began to ache for his approval.

With a deep breath, you decided to relent, knowing that fighting him any longer would only provoke him further. You turned your back to him and slowly began to slide the silk off your shoulders, letting the fabric slip down your arms. The dress pooled at your feet, baring your skin to him. The cool air brushed against you, sending goosebumps cascading across your body as you stood looking vulnerable before him.

Yet despite that, his eyes never wavered to admire your body, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you naked before but right now he didn’t seem the least bit interested.

You faced him, expecting praise or the usual good girl, but he said nothing. The silence stretched between you, heavy and charged, making your heart race with both anticipation and confusion. Sukuna’s gaze was piercing, roaming over your exposed form, and you could feel the intensity of his scrutiny igniting something deep within you—a desperate yearning for his approval.

You swallowed hard, the heat pooling in your stomach igniting a mixture of shame and desire. Sukuna was playing with you, aware of your need for his validation, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of submission and rebellion.

“Please,” you whispered, desperate to shift the balance back in your favour, to spark that glimmer of approval in his eyes. “I just wanted—”

“What?” he interrupted, tilting his head slightly, that smirk still firmly in place. “Attention? Affection? Or perhaps you wanted to remind me how unruly you can be?”

The words were both exhilarating and terrifying, as you recognized the game he was playing. Sukuna knew exactly what you craved and was determined to toy with it, twisting your desires into something that left you vulnerable.

“You should know by now,” he continued, leaning closer until you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “My favourite concubine doesn’t act like this.” he whispers as his hand cups your face. “She knows her place—knows how to please me.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the subtle reminder of your position stoking the embers of your longing. You craved his approval, his affection, and each taunt felt like a jagged edge against your pride. But the harder he pushed, the greater the need for his acknowledgment became.

"Look at you, practically begging for it," he teased, his voice low as his fingers brushed over the uncovered skin of you. "But you'll learn, in time, that defiance only leads to disappointment."

With a predatory grace, Sukuna shifted, his gaze never leaving yours as he sat down on the edge of his royal bed, the dark fabric of the covers contrasting sharply against his skin. The way he was sitting-relaxed, yet commanding-sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine.

"Come here," he ordered; it was an order reverberating with a sternness that was impossible to disregard. Your heart racing, you moved closer until the space between you two was charged with tension. "Get over my knee," he said, the corners of his mouth raising into a sly grin. The words were spoken as though this was a test, a test of how well you'd do.

The heat in your cheeks flared as you hesitated, caught between pride and the undeniable desire to submit. But the need for his approval was overwhelming, and as you moved closer, the thrill of obedience battled against your rebellious spirit.

Sukuna’s gaze held you captive, eyes glimmering with amusement as he patted his knee, the gesture both inviting and authoritative. “I won't ask twice," he warned, his voice low and full of promise.

You swallowed hard as you took a deep breath and realised it was your call. You leaned over reluctantly, laying across his lap and positioning yourself, your hands resting on the coolness of the sheets-a sharp contrast to the heat emitting from your body.

“There we go” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he rested a hand on your back, keeping you in place.

As you settled over him, a rush of vulnerability coursed through you, yet beneath it lay a profound sense of longing for his approval, making it impossible to feel anything but exhilarated. In that moment, you knew there would be no escaping the power he held over you/

His hand travelled further up your thigh, fingers teasingly close to your ass but never quite crossing that line. It was an intentionally deliberate choice, placing you on edge, and you could feel that anticipation, coiling in your belly like a spring, ready to burst.

"Remember," he warned, his voice dropping to that low growl again, "Just because I'm kinder to you than the rest does not mean I won't punish disobedience." You swallowed hard as your heart began to pound with what was to come. You could feel the power dynamic shifting, the game the two of you were playing getting heavier with every passing second.

Sukuna's hand came down sharp against your ass, the loud smack reverberating through the room and slapping you back into reality. A gasp escaped your lips, half in surprise, half in delight at the sting that suddenly fired into your skin. It was a delicious concoction of pain and pleasure, which left you short of breath as you adjusted to the sensations that swirled around you.

"Count," he instructed, his voice firm, yet laced with underlying humour. "Loudly. I want to hear you."

"One," you exhaled the word as it tumbled from your lips, your heart racing wildly as you fought to steady it. The thrill of it all, mixed with your need for his approval, had you wanting each strike more than the last.

Sukuna's hand lingered on the curve of your ass for a moment before falling again in a sharp slap, the sound echoing off stone walls. You gasped again, a mixture of shock and thrill racing through you as the sting blossomed into a warm ache.

“Two,” you gasped, as you fought against the swell of emotions within you.

He lifted his hand, but this time he held back just before the strike, making you tense in anticipation. The sudden hesitation had you bracing for impact, but then he only gently smoothed his palm flat against your skin, teasing you with his warmth.

But before you could even acknowledge it, a sudden one came down on your other ass cheek.

“Three,” you managed to say, voice trembling slightly, the sensation catching you off guard as he switched up the rhythm.

“Good,” he replied, and the next strike came almost immediately after, catching you off guard. “Four!” you exclaimed, the sound of his hand meeting your skin sending shockwaves through your body.

He continued this pattern, alternating between sharp slaps and moments of tension where he would simply tease you, leaving you breathless and on edge. Sometimes, he would deliver a strike that felt harder than the last, and other times he’d pull back, letting you feel only the ghost of his hand as your body quivered in anticipation.

You felt yourself teetering on the brink of overwhelming sensations as you counted up to ten, each strike igniting a fiery mixture of pleasure and pain that coursed through your body. Each impact left you breathless, the rhythm of his hand striking you creating a melody of desire that echoed in your mind.

“Eleven” you finally gasped, the word escaping your lips as you savoured the ache that lingered in your skin.

Sukuna paused, letting the silence stretch between you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on your back, assessing and possessive. The air was thick with tension, and you could sense the power dynamics shifting once more.

“Are you sorry?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, sending a thrill down your spine.

You bit your lip, a mix of defiance and longing swirling within you as you processed his question. The sharp sting of his earlier strikes still pulsed against your skin. The heat emanating from your skin, a reminder of your rebelliousness, yet the way he held you—firm, possessive—made your heart race with exhilaration.

“Sorry?” you repeated, tilting your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. You could see the smirk playing on his lips, the amusement dancing in his eyes. The challenge was palpable; he wanted you to say it, to acknowledge your submission in a way that would give him satisfaction. Yet all that came out of your mouth was…

“I don’t know yet-”

“Do you even know what you want?” he pressed, his voice smooth and taunting. “Because I can give you everything, but you seem intent on making this harder for yourself.”

“Do you want my approval?” he asked, his voice a sultry caress that made your heart race. The question hung between you, laden with implications that sent a shiver down your spine. “You know I could give it to you if you just admit what you truly want.”

As if sensing the conflict within you, he slowly guided you off his lap, the absence of his warmth leaving you yearning for more. You hesitated for a moment, caught in the limbo of desire and pride, before he leaned back slightly, a glimmer of challenge in his gaze. “Get on your knees,” he commanded, the authority in his voice making it impossible to resist.

The command was a double-edged sword, igniting a rush of eagerness and vulnerability in your chest. There was something intoxicating about being at his mercy, and even as the thought of submission sent pangs of uncertainty through you, the need for his love and approval surged stronger than your pride.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze heavy on you as you knelt before him, the coolness of the floor contrasting sharply with the warmth that enveloped your body. Sukuna watched you, a predator sizing up his prey, and you could feel the intensity of his scrutiny as you knelt there, heart racing and breath shallow.

“Good girl” he praised, the words wrapping around you like silk, soothing yet igniting a fire in your core. “This is where you belong—submissive, yearning for my affection.” His voice was low and sultry, and you could hear the satisfaction lacing his tone as he took in your posture, his eyes gleaming with approval. “But you have to earn it. Tell me what you want.”

You hesitated, the vulnerability of your position mingling with your desire to please him. “I want… I want your approval,” you murmured, the admission spilling from your lips almost involuntarily. “Your love”

His smirk widened, revealing a hint of satisfaction that made your heart flutter. “And how do you plan to earn it?” he asked, his voice smooth and seductive, coaxing you into deeper submission. “Show me how desperate you really are for my love.”

With deliberate slowness, he shrugged off his robe, letting the luxurious fabric cascade down his broad shoulders and pool around his waist. The movement revealed the powerful contours of his body, muscles coiling under his skin, each movement exuding confidence and dominance. You couldn’t help but feel your breath hitch in your throat as you drank in the sight of him—strikingly captivating and impossibly alluring. His cock sprung free, dauntingly big, thick and girthy with a prominent vein running along the underside of it.

As you positioned yourself at his feet, your heart raced with anticipation. You looked up at him, and in that moment, you could see the mixture of dominance and desire reflected in his gaze. You knew exactly what he wanted you to do, and the thought of it sent a shiver of excitement coursing through you.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, “show me just how much you crave my approval.” The challenge ignited something deep within you, urging you to submit fully to his will.

You reached forward, taking his cock in your hand at first, feeling the heat radiate from it as your fingers wrapped around his length. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, awakening every nerve ending and amplifying the intensity of your need. You could feel his gaze boring into you, an intoxicating mix of desire and power, and the weight of it only fueled your eagerness.

Sukuna watched you intently, his expression a mixture of approval and amusement as you began to stroke him slowly.

You leaned in closer, your breath hitching as you pressed soft kisses along his shaft, savouring the taste of his skin and the intoxicating musk that enveloped you. With each kiss, you felt a thrill of exhilaration at your submission, and the thought of earning his approval made you more eager to please.

“Keep going,” he encouraged, his voice low and demanding.

You could hear the satisfaction in his tone, and it spurred you on as you took him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him with fervent devotion. Every now and then you’d pull back and focus on the tip, only to resume taking his cock in as deep as you could, using your hand for what you couldn’t fit. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you—his dominance and your willingness to submit completely to him.

As you continued, you could feel his hand find its way to your hair, fingers tangling in it as he guided your movements, controlling the pace with a delicious authority. The mix of his control and your surrender sent waves of heat pooling in your core, and you could feel the ache of longing building within you.

The warmth of his body radiated against your skin, intensifying the sensations coursing through you as you leaned in further, taking him deeper. Each careful stroke of your tongue was met with a soft, approving grunt from Sukuna, his fingers tightening in your hair, guiding you with just the right amount of pressure. You revelled in the way he took charge, the way he made you feel both desired and utterly submissive.

“Such a good little pet,” he praised, his voice smooth yet commanding, sending tremors of excitement through you. “You’re desperate for my touch, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t deny it, the words igniting something primal within you, and you nodded as best you could with him filling your mouth. The mixture of your eagerness and his control heightened the stakes, pushing you to give him everything you had.

His hips shifted slightly, guiding your rhythm as he pressed deeper, the sensation making your head spin. You could feel the tension building within you, a mix of longing and excitement as you became more attuned to his desires. The slick warmth of your mouth enveloped him, and each movement you made was deliberate, an offering of your devotion.

“More,” he demanded, his voice thick with pleasure as he tilted his head back slightly. “I want to hear you.”

You moaned softly around him, the sound vibrating against his skin, eliciting another low growl from deep within him. The noise made your core throb with need, the desperate ache for him only growing stronger as you lost yourself in the rhythm of your actions.

He couldn’t help but want to set the pace himself, the next time you went to pull back, he guided your head further, forcing you to take him deeper until your nose was pressed up against his pubes. You sputtered, unable to stop yourself from gagging as he held you there for a moment before pulling back and letting you pull off and catch your breath. You coughed a little, a string of saliva connecting from his cock to your lips.

His hand tightened in your hair, gently pulling your head up for a moment so he could meet your gaze. “Look at me,” he commanded, his eyes darkened with lust and satisfaction. “I want to see your pretty eyes.”

As you surrendered fully to him, the heat pooling in your core became unbearable, a delicious reminder of just how much you craved his approval. The world outside faded further, leaving only the intoxicating connection between you—his power and your submission—and you knew that you would do anything to keep that connection alive.

You gazed up at him, his commanding presence making your heart race. As you took him deeper, this time by your own choice, a rush of exhilaration surged through you, and with a playful impulse, you let your teeth graze lightly against his length. The sensation was meant to tease, to elicit a reaction, but the moment you did, a sharp intake of breath escaped him, followed by a sudden yank of your hair that pulled you away.

Sukuna’s eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and warning, the intensity of his gaze locking onto yours like a steel trap. “What did I say about behaving?” His voice was low, tinged with authority, but there was an unmistakable edge of desire laced within it. You felt a thrill race through you, the tension in the air thickening.

You looked up at him, trying to read the storm brewing in his eyes. His grip on your hair was firm yet controlled, a reminder of the power he wielded over you. The sharpness of his warning sent a jolt through you, igniting a mix of fear and excitement.

“I... I’m sorry,” you stammered, your breath shaky as you tried to regain your composure. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Do that once more and I won’t touch you again, I’ll give you to one of my men. Do you want that?”

The weight of his words settled heavily in the air, a reminder of the stakes involved. You could feel the heat of embarrassment flooding your cheeks, but it was quickly replaced by a deep-seated need for his approval. The thought of disappointing him was far more terrifying than the idea of punishment.

“Now,” he said, releasing his hold on your hair but still leaning forward, his presence overwhelming, ���Show me that you can be the good girl I know you can be.” There was an edge to his tone that made your stomach flip, a challenge wrapped in a promise.

Nodding slightly, you took a deep breath, reminding yourself of the delicate balance you had to maintain. You could do this. You could earn his affection and approval. You leaned in closer once more, eyes locked onto his, feeling the pulse of desire thrumming between you.

With renewed determination, you took him back into your mouth, moving slowly at first, allowing your tongue to swirl around him in languid strokes. You could feel the tension in the air, the silent understanding that every movement you made was a testament to your willingness to submit completely to him. You focused on doing it right, savouring the way his body reacted, the way his breath hitched as you worked your mouth around him.

You couldn’t help but grin slightly as you ran your tongue along his shaft.

“You think this is funny?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lips with a possessive touch. “You think you’re in control here?” The amusement in his voice was gone, replaced with a low, simmering intensity that made your pulse quicken.

Before you could respond, Sukuna yanked you up, pulling you to your feet with a force that left your heart racing. He spun you around again, pressing your back against the wall, his chest flush against your front as his hands roamed over your body. The roughness of his touch sent shivers down your spine, your skin tingling with the mix of pleasure and dominance that radiated from him.

“Let’s see how long you can hold on to that defiance,” he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His hand slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the full weight of his cock pressing against your stomach. “You’ll break eventually. You always do.”

Your body responded instinctively to his dominance as you clenched your thighs together. Sukuna was testing your limits, pushing you to the brink of submission, and you knew that the game you had started was far from over. The tension between you crackled like electricity, the air thick with the promise of what was to come.

He grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand as his other hand travelled down your body, his touch rough and demanding. His smirk widening as he saw the way your chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, your defiance crumbling under the weight of his dominance.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice thick with lust and dominance. "To be at my mercy? To feel my power over you?"

You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with desire as Sukuna’s fingers danced over across your breasts, playfully rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them slightly, teasing you but never giving you the satisfaction you craved. He smirked, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed beneath him, the control he held over you absolute.

"You don’t get to decide when I reward you," he grumbled, "I do."

Sukuna’s hand tightened around your wrists, his grip firm but not painful as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell me who you belong to," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, filled with an authority that made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, your defiance wavering under the weight of his dominance. "You," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desire. "I belong to you."

Sukuna’s lips crashed down on yours, the kiss rough and demanding, filled with the intensity of his dominance. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, pulling a moan from your throat as he claimed your mouth with brutal precision. His hands explored your curves, gripping your hips, your thighs, your ass that was still sore, as if he was staking his claim on every inch of you.

With each deliberate breath, you steadied yourself, your heart racing as you mentally prepared for the brutal onslaught of his strength. You knew what was coming—the way he would thrust into you with a force that left you gasping, the raw power behind every movement. The pleasure and pain that would mingle into a heady mixture, overwhelming your senses until there was nothing left but him.

The anticipation was almost too much to bear, your body aching for the release you knew only Sukuna could give. His fingers trailed down your back, a possessive touch that claimed you inch by inch, as if reminding you that you were his to do with as he pleased.

And then, without warning or any preparation he thrust into you with a brutal force that knocked the air from your lungs. Your hands clung to his shoulders, struggling to maintain your balance as Sukuna’s body slammed into yours, the sound of flesh against flesh echoing in the chamber.

You were thankful that seeing him like this had you already soaked, else that stretch would’ve been a lot more painful with his size.

He didn’t hold back. Each thrust was powerful, relentless, his hips driving into yours with a ferocity that left you gasping. The intensity of it was overwhelming, his movements claiming you completely, pushing you past the point of pleasure and into a realm where pain and ecstasy became one.

Your body rocked against the wall, your breath coming in ragged, desperate pants as Sukuna’s pace only quickened. The sheer force of his movements left you clinging to the stone for support, your legs trembling with the effort of keeping yourself upright. He hooked a hand under your leg as he lifted you up slightly to get a better angle, your walls clenching around his cock every time he drove it in.

"Look at you," he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Already falling apart."

His hand tightened on your hips as he leaned down, his lips brushing against the side of your neck. "You’re my favourite," he hissed, his breath hot against your skin. "So don’t give me reason to neglect you."

Every punishing thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through your body, building higher and higher until it was almost too much to bear. The heat between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect, brutal sync, the rhythm of your connection raw and primal.

"You feel that?" Sukuna’s voice was a low, dangerous growl in your ear as he brought his other hand to your belly, his hand over the bulge he was causing. "You will never feel this anywhere else.”

He drove into you with even greater force, his body demanding your submission with every movement. And as the pleasure built to a fever pitch inside you, your mind blanked, consumed by the sheer intensity of what he was doing to you.

Sukuna’s thrusts became more brutal, more relentless with each passing second. The intensity of his movements left you breathless, your body barely able to keep up with the raw, savage force of him. The cold stone of the wall pressed against your back, and his hand on your leg, the only thing holding you upright as Sukuna claimed you with an aggression that sent shivers through your entire being.

His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, pulling you into him with every movement, demanding your full surrender. The overwhelming pleasure mingled with a burning ache that left you trembling, each sensation more intense than the one before.

"Is this what you wanted?" Sukuna growled, his voice thick with both anger and lust. "You wanted to test me? Thought you could defy me, hmm?"

His tone was sharp, laced with danger, and each word only made your pulse race faster. You could feel the fury in his movements, the way he drove into you with a punishing rhythm that left you gasping for air. Your mind spun, the pleasure so overwhelming it was hard to think straight, but through the haze of sensation, you realised the truth: you’d pushed him too far.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of his body slamming into yours. "I'm sorry, Sukuna… I didn’t mean—"

Before you could finish, he thrust into you harder, his hand yanking your hair back so that your head snapped up, forcing you to meet his eyes as he leaned over you. His gaze burned with fury and satisfaction, and the sight of it made your stomach flip.

"Oh, you’re sorry now, are you?" he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. "Begging for forgiveness already? Pathetic."

His hips slammed into yours again, the brutal pace leaving you reeling, the sheer force of his movements pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You cried out, your fingers digging into the stone wall as you tried to brace yourself against the onslaught of pleasure and pain.

"Please," you gasped, your voice trembling as his relentless thrusts made it hard to speak. "I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have… I didn’t mean to—"

But Sukuna wasn’t interested in your apologies. If anything, your desperate pleas only seemed to drive him further, his pace quickening, the heat between you growing unbearable. His hand snaked around your throat, gripping it just tightly enough to make you aware of his control, his dominance over you absolute.

"You think I care about your sorry little words?" Sukuna growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You think an apology is going to stop me now?"

His grip on your neck tightened just enough to make your breath hitch, and you could feel your body responding, the ache between your legs growing more intense with every punishing thrust. His pace was faster now, the rhythm of his hips brutal, leaving you no time to catch your breath as he took you harder, faster.

Your body was on fire, each thrust pushing you further into a dizzying spiral of pleasure that made it impossible to think of anything but him. Every time you tried to form words, they were swallowed by gasps and cries of pleasure, your mind barely able to keep up with the sheer intensity of what Sukuna was doing to you.

"I’m sorry," you whimpered again, your voice breaking as he pounded into you, the force of his movements overwhelming every sense. "I… I won’t disobey again… I promise…"

Sukuna’s hand moved from your throat to your waist, pulling you back into him with a bruising grip as he sped up even more, the wet sound of your bodies crashing together filling the air. His breathing was ragged now, and you could feel the heat of his skin against yours, the way his body enveloped you, completely dominating you.

"Is that so?" he snarled, his voice thick with satisfaction as he drove into you harder. "You’re sorry now… but it’s too late for that."

His hips slammed into yours with a ferocity that made your legs shake, your entire body trembling as he took you mercilessly. You could barely keep yourself upright, every muscle in your body tensing with the effort of staying grounded under the relentless onslaught of his thrusts, your pussy welcoming him in with every movement of his cock, it was embarrassing how much your body betrayed you.

"I’ll make sure you remember this," he growled, his breath hot against your skin as his pace became almost punishing. "Next time you think about disobeying me, you’ll remember exactly what happens."

Sukuna's grip tightened as he drove into you with merciless abandon, his pace unrelenting as your body quaked beneath him. The overwhelming sensation was pushing you closer and closer to the edge, your muscles tensing in anticipation of release. But just as you felt that familiar surge of pleasure coil tighter, ready to snap, Sukuna suddenly pulled back, leaving you teetering on the brink, your pussy clenching around nothing at the loss.

Your breath hitched, a desperate whimper escaping your lips as the pleasure was ripped away from you. He slowed his movements, rolling his hips with an agonisingly deliberate pace, teasing you with just enough sensation to keep you trembling but never enough to send you over.

"S-Sukuna," you gasped, your voice trembling with need, your body aching for the release that had been so cruelly denied. "Please... please, I—"

He cut you off with a low, mocking laugh, his fingers digging into your hips as he held you still, his chest pressed against your back. The heat of his body was suffocating, his presence overwhelming as he leaned down to speak directly into your ear.

"You really think you deserve to come after all that?" he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. "After the way you acted? You don’t get to have what you want."

You whimpered again, your body trembling with frustration as Sukuna slowed his thrusts to a maddening crawl, each movement deliberate, calculated to keep you on edge without ever granting you the release you so desperately craved.

His hands moved from your hips to your thighs, spreading you wider as he pushed his cock deeper inside, filling you completely with slow, torturous strokes. Your breath came in shallow gasps, every nerve in your body strung tight with anticipation, but no matter how hard you tried to chase that elusive climax, Sukuna remained in control.

"I’m the one who decides when you get to come," he growled, his voice dark and commanding. "And you haven’t earned it today."

He increased the pace only slightly, enough to send another wave of pleasure through you, but still holding you just at the edge of satisfaction. You could feel him nearing his own release, his breathing becoming heavier, his thrusts more forceful, but even as his body tensed with his impending climax, he refused to let you finish.

"Look at you," he mocked, his voice filled with dark amusement. "Begging for something you’re not even worthy of."

Sukuna’s rhythm grew faster, his hips snapping into you with an intensity that sent you reeling. The heat between your bodies built to a fever pitch, his ragged breaths mingling with your gasps as you clung to the edge of control. You could feel yourself spiralling toward the brink of release, your entire body tensing, desperate to fall over that edge. But just as the pleasure began to crest, Sukuna let out a low, guttural growl, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his peak.

With one last deep thrust, he groaned, his body stilling as he spilled into you, his grip on your hips tightening with possessive force. His cum shot out, thick streams of white painting your walls, a neverending load it felt like with how prolonged it was. His breath came in hot, uneven pants against your skin, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he rode out his climax. You could feel the heat of him inside you, the weight of his release, but the moment your own release seemed within reach, Sukuna stopped moving completely.

You whimpered, the need still burning fiercely in your core, your body quaking with the intensity of being left teetering on the edge. You tried to grind against him, desperate for that final push, but his hands clamped down on your hips, holding you in place. The realisation hit you hard — he really wasn’t going to let you finish.

"Sukuna... please," you gasped, your voice strained, body trembling with unfulfilled need. "I-I need to—"

He chuckled darkly, pulling back just enough to look down at you, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, you thought I’d change my mind?" His voice was thick with amusement, utterly unapologetic. "Not this time."

You moaned in frustration, your body still pulsing with the aftershocks of his rough pace, the pleasure so close yet just out of reach. Sukuna’s grip on your hips remained firm as he leaned down, his breath hot against your ear.

"You're lucky I let you have this much," he growled, the tone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Maybe next time you’ll think twice before misbehaving."

He pulled out slowly, his absence leaving you feeling unbearably empty, your body still throbbing with unsatisfied need. He watched you squirm beneath him, clearly revelling in your frustration, a twisted smile playing on his lips.

Sukuna’s dark chuckle echoed in the room as he loomed over you, watching the frustration play across your features. You could feel your body trembling with the intensity of everything left unresolved, a quiet whine escaping your throat as you tried, one last time, to reach for him. But before you could make any move, he shifted, his hand coming to rest atop your head.

The touch was shockingly gentle, a contrast to the roughness you’d just endured, as he stroked your hair almost… fondly. You glanced up at him, confusion flickering across your face, but Sukuna’s expression was one of twisted amusement.

"Don’t pout," he murmured, still smirking as he patted your head in that condescending way. "I’m not so heartless as to leave you completely unsatisfied." His voice dripped with mockery, but there was an underlying promise there—something dark and teasing.

You bit your lip, your heart still racing, unsure what he meant. Did he intend to give you an orgasm after all? Yet instead of returning his hands to your body, he let them slide away, leaving you even more bewildered.

With a casual shrug, Sukuna stood, towering over you, clearly savouring the sight of your needy, trembling form sprawled before him. As he moved toward the door, you caught his last remark.

"I’ll let you sleep in my chambers tonight," he tossed over his shoulder, his tone almost dismissive. "Consider that a kindness."

His words hung in the air, thick with his typical arrogance. Sleeping in his chambers meant you’d be close, within reach of him, and perhaps he’d allow more later. But it also meant the control still belonged to him, and you would have to wait, to endure.

He looked back at you once more, that cruel, satisfied grin still etched on his face. "See? I’m not entirely heartless," he teased, the sarcasm in his voice unmistakable.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving you to gather yourself, the heat of your desire still thrumming in your veins. His presence lingered even after he was gone, the promise of what might come next hanging over you like a heavy, tantalising shadow.

taglist:

@waffless-simp-blog @l0v3m3-p13as3 @hishearttohave @crybabysiri

@jays-adventure3 @nctislifue @eeveedvck @needtoloveoutloud @yowumi

@sweetpo1son @betelgeuse420 @yuhig-blog @psychedellyc @char-35

© lovecuprite ↣ do not copy or translate any of my works

[writethrough]

I Know Better

(Billy Hargrove x Female Reader)

Synopsis: You've heard every rumor about Billy Hargrove—from the girls, the guys, the teachers, the parents—it never interested you all that much. Until one of those pesky rumors involved you.

Warnings: Language, slut-shaming

Word Count: 1396

A/N: This is the first stop on the apology tour for everyone who's sent me in a request. It's been a year for some of you, and I'm so sorry and grateful for your patience.

I had a really hard time starting this in the sense that I had so many ideas, but none of them fit with this prompt. So, it took me a while to settle on the story I wanted to tell. I had to stop thinking about this as a “Billy is mean to everyone” fic, and start considering it a “You are Billy’s soft spot” fic. It had to be a “How is he different because of you?” And then it sort of clicked.  

This is a sort of soft-launch to a larger something. I'm not sure if it will turn into a full multi-part fic or just spontaneous additions in this little fanfic universe.

And to the anon who requested this, Tumblr ate your request when I tried saving it to my drafts, so I really, really hope you come across it.

I hope you enjoy!

Anon Request: “Another Billy request idea is “he’s mean as fuck to everyone but me

"Like??? Maybe I need to go to therapy but the hard as stone exterior on that boy and the thought of him being sweet as pie to his girl makes me mush” 

Moodboard by @saradika

Billy Hargrove never scared you. 

Not even in high school when all you heard about was his bark and bite and overall terrible attitude. 

You didn’t cross paths often, surprisingly so with how small Hawkins was, but sometimes you’d get glimpses of him against his locker or waiting by his car. 

You still remembered the time he pulled in beside you as you were shutting your door. 

Max had waved at you before rushing off to the middle school. Then, Billy had slowly risen, lighting a cigarette in the process, and locked eyes with you. 

He greeted you by name, a lazy smile spreading across his lips, and sauntered away. 

You had replayed that morning for the next two weeks, stunned that he knew your name let alone gave you the time of day. 

It was a month or two afterward when you actually witnessed Billy at his worst. 

You weren’t there for the start, but you had turned a corner in the halls and were met with other students gawking at a fight. 

You shoved your way between teenagers, intent to get to your class before the bell rang when that mullet stopped you. 

Billy had been looming over Roger, the school’s very own sleazy douchebag. 

In your mind, whatever that prick had said or done, he absolutely deserved the consequences Billy was doling out. 

You were about to continue walking when Billy leaned in closer to him with a tilt of his head. And until that point, you didn’t know that gesture could be so menacing. 

“Wanna say that again?” 

Your brows pulled in confusion. 

What could Roger have said that made Billy so furious? 

It must have been some insult, something that cut right to whatever insecurities Billy hid from the world. You really couldn’t imagine what he’d be self-conscious about. To you, Billy was the epitome of confidence. 

Billy’s eyes caught your shoes, and you swore his shoulders tensed. He trailed up your body and met your gaze, grinding his teeth. 

He slowly straightened, and without another word, stormed out of the building. 

Mrs. Click finally arrived and disbanded everyone and helped Roger to the nurse’s office. 

Your last class was full of whispered theories and passing notes. 

I heard he keyed Billy’s car. 

No, Billy definitely slept with the chick Roger was eyeing up. 

Could’ve sworn I heard Roger call some girl a slut-in-the-making. 

The day couldn’t have been over soon enough. 

At least it was the weekend, and in a month, you’d be graduating. 

You were walking to your car, sun in your eyes, and didn’t see Billy leaning against it until you were too close to pretend you forgot something to head back inside. 

“Hey,” he said, putting out his cigarette. 

“Hi,” you said slowly, gripping your backpack strap. 

“You okay?” His hands slipped in his pockets. 

Your furrowed your brow. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

He chuckled. “Fair enough.” 

He pushed off your car and took a few steps toward you. 

It was really the first chance you had to take in how blue his eyes were. And while normally you’d look away as you held each other's gaze, something planted you where you stood. 

He had the barest of smirks, so slight that you’d dare call it a smile. 

“If I said I wasn’t alright, would you agree to hang out tomorrow?” he asked. 

You let out a surprised laugh and glanced down. This was the first conversation you’d ever had with Billy, and he was asking you out. 

This was probably how he operated. He’d set his sights on some girl, give them that eat-you-alive smirk, and you’d wake up alone Sunday morning without even a note saying “bye.” 

But even with all that, your curiosity won out. So you made a deal. 

“Tell me what that was all about, and I’ll be there.” 

There was a flash of anger, but you didn’t think it was toward you. Leftover feelings for whatever happened no doubt. Then, he softened in a way you had never seen before. 

“I’ll pick you up at six,” he said, beginning to walk away. He turned around before he could get too far. “Don’t bring a jacket.” 

“Why?” You couldn’t help your smile. 

“You’ll have mine.” 

The cocky grin would’ve been irritating with anyone else, but Billy’s was endearing. 

You drove home with a stupid smile plastered on your face, and you stayed that way until Billy rapped on your door. 

— 

That Saturday night, he tried to breeze past his altercation. Until you leveled him with a sincere look and said his name. 

He had leaned back in the booth, ripping his remaining fries in pieces to distract himself. 

“He pissed me off,” Billy said, still maintaining his gruffness. 

“I figured as much,” you said gently. You knew if he sensed anything else, you wouldn’t get any answers. 

He huffed, glancing at you before returning to his basket of food. 

“The prick said somethin’ he shouldn’t have.” He shrugged. “I told him as much.” 

You nodded slowly, narrowing your eyes in thought. Billy wasn’t know to beat around the bush. He said what he thought, and you kind of admired that about him. Even if that got him in trouble. But the way he wasn’t maintaining eye contact when that was his favorite way to throw someone off guard was suspicious. He was hiding something, of course, but it felt more than hiding something from you alone. 

You took a shot in the dark. 

“Are you…Are you not telling me what he said because it was about me?” 

His jaw clenched and hands stopped. 

So, that was it. Roger had said something nasty about you, and for whatever reason, Billy took it upon himself to…defend your honor? 

But why? 

And what could it have been to make Billy react like that? You hardly knew each other. 

You inhaled deeply. “Okay. Tell me what he said.” 

“You don’t need to hear his bullshit.” He met your gaze, steady and stern. You wanted to slap your chest to keep your heart from skipping. 

“Billy,” you started, “I promise whatever he said isn’t going to affect me. I just want to know why you had him on the ground.” 

At this point, you had dissociated from high school and the people in it. All that mattered was graduation. 

“What does it matter?” His tone came out more harsh than you anticipated, but the way his face pinched told you he didn’t mean for it to happen. 

You leaned on the table. “Because I’ve had a really nice time so far. And as much as I appreciate you standing up for me. If you wanna continue this,” you gestured between you both, “you can’t beat the shit outta people.” 

“You wanna go out again?” His eyebrows rose slightly, and your cheeks warmed. 

Of course, that was what he took away. 

“Billy,” you warned playfully. 

“Alright,” he sighed. “He caught me starin’ at you a few times. Said your legs were locked shut, but I could probably get them open.” 

You scrunched up your nose. You knew Roger had to have said something vulgar, but you were more surprised it was about you then the actual content. 

“Okay. Was that all?” Sure, it was gross, but that didn’t seem like something Billy would lose his shit over. 

“That happened last week,” he admitted. “Told him to shut the hell up, and I thought that was that.” He shifted in his seat. “Guess he saw you lookin’ at me and he started callin’ you names. And then I hit’im.” 

Names.  

You could hazard a guess what names he called you. Probably the same ones he called every other female who didn’t wanna sleep with him. Ones that would describe him more than you. 

You reached across the table and grabbed his wrist. 

“Thank you for telling me,” you said. “And I need you to know, I don’t give a single fuck what that dipshit thinks.” 

He chuckled, putting his hand on top of yours. 

“So, that mean a second date is in the books?” he asked. 

“Like I said, only if you don’t punch someone when they say something you don’t like,” you said, hoping your face conveyed how serious you were. 

He leaned his elbows on the table. 

“I was thinkin’ a movie for next time.” 

Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks, @nix-rose, @ballerina-orchid, @realmermaidariel

If you’d like to be added to any taglists, please comment or message me with the character you’d like updates on. 

[rileyslibrary]

Ghost is shocked by your immunity to being tased.

I received an ask from an anon for this story. Unfortunately, either Tumblr ate it, or I accidentally deleted it; I can’t be sure because I trust neither of us. Gladly, I remember the gist of it. I hope that anon sees it. (Sorry, anon, and thank you for the ask.)

———————————————————————

You push open the workshop door, and notice a curated display of taser gear spread across the table for today’s training session. Ghost, your lieutenant and trainer for the day, occupies a corner, busy with extracting all sorts of stuff—taser guns, pulses, stun batons—from bags and placing them on the table. He catches the sound of your entrance and turns halfway to face you.

“You’re early,” he mutters under his breath.

“I just couldn’t wait, Lieutenant,” you reply sarcastically.

He huffs. “We’ll see about that once training’s over.”

You approach the table, and look at the equipment. You reach out and grasp a taser gun. It looks exactly like a pistol but bulkier and has yellow elements to distinguish it from firearms.

“Could you please remind me how this baby works?” you ask.

He turns his entire body towards you and contemplates your question. Although the training session is just half an hour away, and he doesn’t technically need to explain anything, you’re his weak spot. So he leaves the gear in the bag, walks towards you, and begins to give you a detailed explanation.

It almost feels like a private session, but you have ulterior motives—you’ve already been through a similar class in the past and are eager to skip this one. Despite your repeated attempts to convey this to Ghost, he remained adamant that this course would be a refresher for you and, thus, necessary.

“Once you have a clear shot, you press the trigger.” He concludes.

“Like this?” you ask, directing the taser towards your right foot and squeezing the trigger. It stings, but your previous training has taught you how to get used to the feeling and handle the pain better. Or at least make it look that way.

Your poor lieutenant stands speechless as he looks at the now-fired taser gun. He slowly looks down, where his shocked eyes trace the two wires extending from the device, connecting to your foot.

“What the fuck did you do?” he shouts, gesturing towards your leg.

“Jeez, Lt., you seem stunned,” you comment.

“Are you having a laugh, soldier?” He scolds you with as much authority as he has left from what he just experienced. He drops to the ground, working to remove the wires from your foot. He stands up, alternating his gaze between the device and your leg. Finally, he turns to you.

“How come you’re not in pain?” he asks, confused.

You shrug, unaffected, and pick up another taser from the table. “Maybe the first one was defective; let’s give this one a go,” you suggest, aiming at your other foot and firing.

“Are you out of your mind, Y/N?” he screams in a high-pitched voice and kneels again to retrieve the second taser from your foot.

“Come on, Lt., it’s not as bad as it seems!” You reassure him with a grin, seizing a third taser from the table. This time, you point it at Ghost’s leg. “Wanna see?”

He lifts his knee and gathers his arms close to his body. He looks like a pitcher, ready to throw the ball in a baseball match.

“No, no, thank you very much”, he protests.

“Sure?” You ask and aim at his other leg on the ground.

“Absolutely certain, you maniac,” he says, switching legs. “How far are you willing to go to skip this class?!”

“Not too far,” you reply with a smile, “as far as these two wires go when they get propelled from the taser gun.”

“Cut it out!”

To his relief, the rest of the team enters the room, and Ghost instantly transitions into his authoritative persona. He places both feet on the ground, protrudes his chest, and places both hands on his waist. He clears his throat.

“Take your positions, everyone,” he commands, “everyone except for you, Y/N.”

“Why am I excluded, Lieutenant?” you ask with a pout and a playful wink. “Is it because I’m unfazed?”

“Nah, soldier,” he replies and walks behind you to tidy the wires from the already-shot taser guns, “it’s because you’re a live wire—always keeping me on my toes.”

———————————————————————

[lightyaoigami]

☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ how to resume ⋆｡ﾟ☾｡⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎ ﾟ

after 10 years & 6 jobs in corporate america, i would like to share how to game the system. we all want the biggest payoff for the least amount of work, right?

know thine enemy: beating the robots

i see a lot of misinformation about how AI is used to scrape resumes. i can't speak for every company but most corporations use what is called applicant tracking software (ATS).

no respectable company is using chatgpt to sort applications. i don't know how you'd even write the prompt to get a consumer-facing product to do this. i guarantee that target, walmart, bank of america, whatever, they are all using B2B SaaS enterprise solutions. there is not one hiring manager plinking away at at a large language model.

ATS scans your resume in comparison to the job posting, parses which resumes contain key words, and presents the recruiter and/or hiring manager with resumes with a high "score." the goal of writing your resume is to get your "score" as high as possible.

but tumblr user lightyaoigami, how do i beat the robots?

great question, y/n. you will want to seek out an ATS resume checker. i have personally found success with jobscan, which is not free, but works extremely well. there is a free trial period, and other ATS scanners are in fact free. some of these tools are so sophisticated that they can actually help build your resume from scratch with your input. i wrote my own resume and used jobscan to compare it to the applications i was finishing.

do not use chatgpt to write your resume or cover letter. it is painfully obvious. here is a tutorial on how to use jobscan. for the zillionth time i do not work for jobscan nor am i a #jobscanpartner i am just a person who used this tool to land a job at a challenging time.

the resume checkers will tell you what words and/or phrases you need to shoehorn into your bullet points - i.e., if you are applying for a job that requires you to be a strong collaborator, the resume checker might suggest you include the phrase "cross-functional teams." you can easily re-word your bullets to include this with a little noodling.

don't i need a cover letter?

it depends on the job. after you have about 5 years of experience, i would say that they are largely unnecessary. while i was laid off, i applied to about 100 jobs in a three-month period (#blessed to have been hired quickly). i did not submit a cover letter for any of them, and i had a solid rate of phone screens/interviews after submission despite not having a cover letter. if you are absolutely required to write one, do not have chatgpt do it for you. use a guide from a human being who knows what they are talking about, like ask a manager or betterup.

but i don't even know where to start!

i know it's hard, but you have to have a bit of entrepreneurial spirit here. google duckduckgo is your friend. don't pull any bean soup what-about-me-isms. if you truly don't know where to start, look for an ATS-optimized resume template.

a word about neurodivergence and job applications

i, like many of you, am autistic. i am intimately familiar with how painful it is to expend limited energy on this demoralizing task only to have your "reward" be an equally, if not more so, demoralizing work experience. i don't have a lot of advice for this beyond craft your worksona like you're making a d&d character (or a fursona or a sim or an OC or whatever made up blorbo generator you personally enjoy).

and, remember, while a lot of office work is really uncomfortable and involves stuff like "talking in meetings" and "answering the phone," these things are not an inherent risk. discomfort is not tantamount to danger, and we all have to do uncomfortable things in order to thrive. there are a lot of ways to do this and there is no one-size-fits-all answer. not everyone can mask for extended periods, so be your own judge of what you can or can't do.

i like to think of work as a drag show where i perform this other personality in exchange for money. it is much easier to do this than to fight tooth and nail to be unmasked at work, which can be a risk to your livelihood and peace of mind. i don't think it's a good thing that we have to mask at work, but it's an important survival skill.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ good luck ⋆｡ﾟ☾｡⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎ ﾟ｡⋆

[jessybarnes]

Forbidden Love

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Word count: Over 5k

Tags: Acromantula, mentions of blood, death of a mythical creature, gore, angst, fluff, smut, bullying, broken bones, hippogriffs, unicorns, fluffy, centaurs, syringes, major character injury, near-death experience, age gap, teacher/18-year-old student relationship, unprotected sex, fingering, begging, forced reveal of feelings, forbidden forest, family drama, and I think that’s it.

Beta: @winecatsandpizza

A/N: This is a repost from one of my old Tumblr accounts. I altered the timeline a little to make this flow better. I realize that Gilderoy lost his memory during the Chamber of Secrets era. I also realize that Severus didn't take on the DADA teaching position until Harry's 6th year. I just wanted to make that clear for everyone. :) Enjoy! 

"Hmm…difficult, very difficult. Mmm yes, lots of ambition and very loyal too. A hint of creativity, but you seem to mask it well with your bravery...”

As the sorting hat’s voice echoed throughout the Great Hall, your mind began to flood with the past week’s events. 

It was the day after your eighteenth birthday when you discovered your Hogwarts letter. Your grandmother had been a great witch and even taught at Hogwarts after she finished her seventh year. From the moment you were born, she knew you were destined for good things. Your parents had forbidden her from using magic around you and even went so far as to hide your letter of acceptance on your eleventh birthday. It wasn’t until you were going through some of your childhood toys in the attic that you came across it. 

The letter was stuck to the back of an old photo album, and the writing had nearly faded completely. You ran your fingers over the yellowing parchment, the tip of your index finger raising slightly as it slid over the sealing wax. You recognized the symbol immediately. Your grandmother had it all over her house, and you’d thought it to be your family’s crest. The wax gave way easily and you pulled the letter out as carefully as you could. Your heart began to race and your breath caught in your throat. The letter was for you! You had been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

You blinked and brought yourself back to reality, the hat seemed to be finishing up his assessment.

“...better make it...Slytherin!”

The table full of students to the far right of the hall erupted in cheer as you walked towards them. You took your seat and after the rest of the first years were sorted into their houses, the Headmaster approached the podium. He raised his hands and without saying a word, the whole room went silent. 

“Welcome! Welcome, everyone! It is my great pleasure to start off a new school year with a few minor changes. As many of you know, Gilderoy Lockhart is no longer capable of teaching. It seems a memory charm backfired and he’s lost all memory of who he is. Be that as it may, I am very pleased to announce that our own Severus Snape will be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Your eyes scanned the teachers at the head table and stopped when they landed on a man who looked slightly younger than the others. He stood and nodded ever so slightly before taking his seat again. Your gaze lingered on him as Professor Dumbledore continued on with his speech.

“Thus it’s only fitting that the one and only Professor Horace Slughorn takes Severus’ place as Potions teacher.”

Another professor stood up from the table and smiled as a round of applause reverberated off the walls.

“Now that we’ve determined who will be teaching what subject, I have an additional announcement to make. All students will refrain from entering the forbidden forest. Anyone who isn’t experienced enough to handle themselves will most certainly die a very horrible death. Now, without further interruption, let the feast begin!” 

With a wave of his hand, the empty plates filled with a delicious-looking meal. You ate quietly as the other Slytherins talked and carried on. Every so often, you turned to look at the mysterious man with the all-black attire. Mysterious didn’t even begin to describe him. Even though it wasn’t classified as magic, you had always found yourself skilled in reading people.

He looked particularly confident, his shoulder-length, black hair bouncing slightly as he talked amongst the other teachers. There was just something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Was it pain? The very moment you thought the word to yourself, his eyes snapped up to yours. Horrified that you were caught staring, you quickly turned your attention to your plate. Had he read your mind? 

Deciding not to dwell on it any longer, you continued eating your meal thinking about the new chapter in your life. Though you didn’t know much about Hogwarts and the world of magic, you did know that this house, in particular, had a bad reputation. Your grandmother was a Ravenclaw, and would sometimes divulge knowledge about the other houses. The one thing you remembered about Slytherin was that its founder believed only certain people should be allowed to attend this school and practice magic.

Purebloods. 

You were the farthest thing from being a pureblood. In fact, you were what other witches and wizards would call a Muggle. That was another thing you learned from your grandma. Muggle was a term used to describe someone who had non-magic blood, or the less liked derogatory name, mud-blood. The fork in your left hand scraped across your plate as you pushed your food around aimlessly.

Why on Earth would the sorting hat put you in Slytherin? 

Soon, dinner was over and the prefects led the students back to their respective common rooms. You followed the other female students to the girl’s dormitory and found your trunk and owl had already been brought in. Nova chirped and tilted her head when she saw you, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Miss me already, sweetheart? Well, I missed you too.”

The soft feathers on her head slid between your fingers while you talked to her. Even though she didn’t talk back, it was always nice to feel like someone was listening. 

You settled on your bed and began drawing in your sketchpad as the other girls in your room talked amongst themselves. Their conversation hardly registered with you, your focus solely on the drawing of Nova you were currently working on. It wasn’t until one of the other girls tapped you on your shoulder that you noticed they were talking to you.

“Hellooo? Were you even listening to us?”

You set your sketch pad next to you on the bed and looked up at the three girls staring at you intently.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to me. I was um … I was focused on my drawing.” 

The girl closest to you rolled her eyes and huffed impatiently.

“I said, why aren’t you eleven like the other first years?”

There it was, the question you knew would be asked eventually. You just didn’t think you’d have to answer it this soon.

“My um… Well, I suppose it’s because my parents hid my acceptance letter from me.”

The one with the blonde hair began to laugh.

“Why that’s absurd. Why anyone would hide a Hogwarts letter from their child is beyond me. Unless… wait… are you, not a pureblood?”

A sudden feeling of shame overtook you and your gaze wandered to your lap, a loose string on your blanket became instantly more interesting.

“I-I… Well, no… I’ve got non-magic parents actually.”

The third girl scoffed.  “Daphne, can you believe they let scum like this into our house?”

Blondie, who you presumed to be Daphne, snatched your sketchbook off the bed and tore it in two, and laughed. “Serves her right. Mud-bloods don’t belong in Slytherin.”

She drew her wand and pushed the tip into the skin of your throat making your whole body quake in fear.

“Listen up you vile little wretch, you’d better not lose us any house points if you value your life at all. Understand?” 

Tears pricked your eyes as you nodded quickly. “Y-Yes… Yes, I-I understand.”

She removed her wand and the two other girls followed close behind as they left the room. Closing your eyes, you took a few deep breaths trying to slow the rapid beating of your heart. A few minutes later, you let out a shaky breath and began to clean up the remnants of your sketch pad. Luckily, this was a brand new one and Daphne hadn’t torn up anything too valuable. 

Once you were finished, you slipped on your shoes and held out your arm to Nova. She chirped happily and sidestepped to your shoulder. Staying in your room anywhere near the other Slytherin girls was the last thing you wanted to do, so you decided to explore the castle grounds a little before bed. After all, it was only Friday night, and classes didn’t start for another two weeks. 

The crisp, fall air licked at your skin the moment you stepped out into the courtyard. It felt good to breathe the fresh air and you suspected that Nova felt the same. She immediately took flight and let out a happy screech. Part of you envied her. Being able to soar as high as the clouds away from all the negativity was something you could only dream of doing. 

You wandered around the castle grounds until you spotted a hut nestled at the edge of a tree line. The stone exterior and the pointed roof reminded you of the fairytales your parents used to read as bedtime stories when you were little. Light grey smoke billowed out of the chimney and you could faintly hear someone humming. Curiosity got the better of you, and you soon found yourself at the foot of the steps. 

Before you could knock, the front door swung open and none other than Hagrid looked down at you.

“Why ‘ello there, lass! Teh what do I owe yeh the pleasure?”

You’d only known him for a few hours, but you could tell that Hagrid had a big heart and good intentions.

“I just needed some fresh air that's all. Things are… a bit much in my house.”

Hagrid studied you as you spoke. It didn’t take a genius to know something was bothering you, and he saw right through the fake smile plastered on your face.

“Why don’t yeh come in fer a spot of tea? I can tell something is troublin’ yeh.” 

It became a sort of routine, the evenings you’d spend with the Hogwarts groundskeeper. After Hagrid had learned the way the other Slytherins were treating you, he’d made it clear that you could spend the night in his spare room any time you needed to. You insisted on paying him for his hospitality, but he always refused. All he had ever asked in return was help taking care of the mythical creatures. Most would probably view it as a chore, but you found it extremely therapeutic. 

Friday evening before school started, you noticed Hagrid was missing from the teacher’s table. After dinner, you jogged along the path to his house and noticed the lights inside his hut were off.

Hmm...that’s weird, you thought to yourself.

Normally, he’d be making a pot of tea right about now. Tentatively, you walked up the steps and lightly knocked on his door.

“Hagrid? Hey, are you home? It’s Y/N…” You tried the door, and it opened easily. “Hagrid? I’m coming in…”

Fang peeked at you over his paw and yawned lazily. Other than the glow of the fire, nothing showed signs that he was home. As quietly as you could you walked to the back towards his bedroom. There, wrapped up in blankets and looking beyond miserable, was the half-giant himself. 

“Oh, Hagrid… what’s the matter? You look like you feel awful.”

He coughed and sneezed a few times before blowing his nose into a hankey. His skin was clammy, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“I’m sick, lass. Yeh shouldn’t come near me if ye know what’s good fer ya.”

Out of instinct you put the underside of your wrist against his forehead and grimaced.

“Hagrid, you’re burning up! Come on! We have to get you to Madame Pomfrey.” 

You helped him stand and carefully started to lead him toward the castle. It took nearly fifteen minutes, but finally, you were able to get him to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey motioned to a bed and helped you lay him down. She insisted that she keep him overnight so she could monitor him, but Hagrid was having none of it.

“No! Absolutely not! I can’t stay ‘ere overnight. Who’ll feed Fang an all me other beasts? Buckbeak ain’t the nicest Hippogriff when he’s missed a meal yeh know.” 

Your hand came down to cover his as you looked him in the eyes.

“Hagrid, please...stay here and let Madame Pomfrey take care of you. I’ll take care of feeding them tonight, okay? It’s not like I haven’t helped you make your rounds for the past week and a half.”

The groundskeeper sighed with defeat and nodded.

“Alright Y/N, I’ll stay an let yeh take care o’ my pets, but yeh have ta promise me you’ll be careful.” 

You gave him a soft smile and stood to smooth out your robes. “Don’t worry, Hagrid. I’ll be quick and efficient just like you taught me. I even made myself a list so I remember which animal eats what as well as where they’re all located. I’ve got this!”

Before he could change his mind, you hurried out of the room and back to his hut to grab what you needed. According to the list, you had five different species to feed tonight. The unicorns, Buckbeak the hippogriff, Fluffy the three-headed dog, the centaurs, and Aragog the acromantula.

None of these mythical beasts ever acted like they were harmful, but they weren’t to be taken lightly either. Not to mention you were with Hagrid every time you’d fed them before. After loading up the bags with their food, you made sure you had your wand before approaching the edge of the forest. It didn’t matter what time of day it was, the shadow from the trees always made the forest dark and a thin layer of mist lingered near the forest floor. 

Fluffy was first on your list. His doghouse was about fifty feet within the forest. Brandishing your wand, you cast Lumos Maxima and took the trail to the west. A few minutes later, you could hear light snores echoing off the trees. Making sure you had the three slabs of meat at the ready, you whistled to get the giant beast’s attention. 

"Fluffy! I got you some dinner!"

The dog's left head yawned enthusiastically and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Alright, that's enough sleeping. It's time for some yummy meat!"

The middle head began to growl and bare its teeth at you while the one on the right shook its head back and forth violently.

"There we go, nice and easy…" You slowly got closer and gently set the slabs of meat within his reach before backing off." 

You stuck around long enough to make sure he saw the food and then walked north towards the part of the forest where unicorns made their homes. It surprised you to learn that they preferred witches over wizards. Hagrid had told you that they were very fast, so much so that they could outrun a werewolf. 

Instead of trying to seek them out, he set up feed pails around their homes and filled them with food. As you were filling the pails, you saw a golden blur out of the corner of your eye. It startled you at first, but then you remembered Hagrid telling you that unicorn fouls were gold in color. 

Staying completely still, you waited until it poked its head out from behind the tree.

"Hi, sweetheart. You want some food?"

At the mention of food, the foul whinnied and slowly approached your outstretched hand. It broke your heart that these beautiful creatures were nearly extinct. You gave light scratches to the tufts of fur behind its ears, the serene moment nearly making you forget where you were. 

After hand-feeding the baby for a few minutes, you quickly filled the rest of the pails before heading towards the centaurs. Hagrid always made sure you remembered how proud the centaur breed was. They didn't like to be classified as "beasts" along with thestrals, merfolk, or werewolves. They also ate both human and equine food. 

It was a good thing you remembered to grab both types. You didn't want to upset them at all, let alone do so without Hagrid around to protect you. As you approached their den, a familiar face came to greet you.

"Good evening, Y/N."

Firenze stood tall as he looked down at you, his unwavering gaze making you a bit nervous.

"H-Hey! Sorry, it took me a bit to get here. Hagrid isn't feeling well, and I had to take him to the hospital wing." 

The creature nodded and uncrossed his arms.

"That's quite alright. I see you brought my colony dinner."

You offered a smile and held out two big knapsacks of food. "I did! I wasn't sure what you would prefer so I came bearing a variety of things...I-I hope that's okay."

Firenze chuckled and placed one of his large hands on your shoulder. "That's very kind of you, Y/N. Please give Hagrid my best. I do hope he recovers quickly."

With a nod and a wave, you watched him until he was out of sight. 

Adjusting the bag on your shoulder, you turned east and walked in the direction of the area Buckbeak frequented. You’d come to love the Hippogriff ever since Hagrid introduced you to him. It only took you about five minutes to navigate the trail before you could hear the excited bleats coming from a group of trees. Making sure to stop the moment you crested the hill, you made eye contact with Buckbeak and bowed low.

The Hippogriff turned and tilted its head momentarily and then bowed in return. You took the dead ferrets out of the bag and tossed them in the air for him to catch. When you ran out he nudged the side of your face and chirped happily.

“Yes, I love you too, Beaky. You’re a good boy!”

Kissing his beak sweetly, you bade him goodnight and walked south toward the heart of the forest. Time to feed the final species on your list.

Aragog.

Even though they were capable of human speech, acromantulas were the one beast you had a fear of. As you approached Aragog’s lair, hundreds of tiny spiders crawled on the ground next to you. Taking a few deep breaths to compose yourself, you crept into the pitch-black den with your senses on high alert. At the heart of it sat the beast himself.

“Who dares to come into my home?”

With a shaky hand, you reached into your bag and quickly pulled out a dead fox as an offering. 

“A-Aragog? It’s um…it’s Y/N, the one who has been coming with Hagrid to feed you. I have umm… I have some birds and foxes for you.”

The large arachnid stalked closer to you, its eyes like black holes as it seemed to stare into your soul.

“Yes… the young fleshy girl who claims to be a friend of Hagrid. Tell me, where is my keeper? What have you done to him?” 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end and your fight or flight instincts began to kick in.

“I-I-I didn’t do anything to him. He… he isn’t feeling well and I told him I’d come and bring you dinner…”

You hadn’t realized you were backing up until your heel caught a crooked root poking through the ground. Pain shot through your ankle as you fell against the floor of the den. Aragog clicked his fangs together and you flinched as his voice boomed around you angrily.

“I don’t believe you! I’ve known Hagrid for over fifty years, and not once has he missed a feeding!”

As graceful as your sprained ankle would allow, you scrambled to your feet and dumped the dead birds and foxes on the ground in front of you.

“H-Here’s your food… I… I’m just gonna go…”

The venom from his fangs began to drip on the ground as he moved even closer to you.

“Go? Oh, I don’t think so, friend of Hagrid. Those foxes and birds may sate my son's and daughter's hunger, but they won't satisfy me."

Ignoring the throb in your injured foot, you clambered out of the den as fast as you could. Branches swatted you in the face as you sprinted toward Hagrid's hut. Aragog was hot on your heels as the castle grounds became more and more visible. Just a few more feet and you'd be safe. 

A rotted tree trunk caught your eye, but it was too late for you to avoid it. You hit the ground with a sickening thud, your wrist that broke your fall was surely broken. Turning to face the fastly approaching acromantula, you pleaded for him to stop.

"Aragog, please! ….I...I didn't do anything to Hagrid… please don't hurt me!" 

The giant spider loomed over you, its fangs clicking together violently.

"Goodbye, friend of Hagrid…"

You let out a blood-curdling scream as its pincers tore into your flesh, the moonlight fading away until you slipped into unconsciousness. 

Nights were usually the time Severus took to think. It was his free time, save for the occasional disobedient student wandering the corridors. He'd just walked past the open courtyard when a small owl flew down to land on his shoulder.

"Get off me you insolent bird!"

It let out a screech and circled him before settling on his other arm. 

"Merlin’s beard, what is it that you want?!"

Just as he was about to send it away, he noticed a small charm bracelet attached to the owl's left leg. Curious, he cast Lumos and read the inscription. 

Name: Nova Jane

Property of: Y/F/N Y/L/N

"I see...you're the property of the new Slytherin girl. Go on then! Go back to the dormitory."

Nova nipped at the buttons on his sleeve and screeched loudly. Just as Severus was about to scare it off, your scream echoed throughout the castle grounds.

"Take me to her! Now!"

Nova took flight and soared in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Severus ran as quickly as he could, his robes flowing behind him like a cape. His heart thundered against his chest as he broke through the treeline. 

The moment he saw Hagrid's acromantula towering over you, he drew his wand and aimed for its head.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

The spell sent Aragog catapulting backward, its body falling lifeless against the base of a large tree.

Seeing you lying there motionless made his blood run cold.

"Oh, Merlin…no no no..."

He sank down in the mud and put two fingers against your neck, a breath of relief falling from his lips when a faint pulse fluttered against them. His eyes scanned your body, worry prickling his skin at the number of deep cuts you had. He knew you wouldn't survive if he didn't act now. 

With a shaky hand, he pointed his wand to the deep gash in your abdomen.

"Vulnera sanentur…"

A glow illuminated from it and within seconds it was as if the wound never existed. He did the same for the other large wounds as well as your wrist and ankle before lifting you into his arms. He may have stopped the bleeding, but you still had the acromantula's venom flowing freely in your veins. He only had a few minutes to reverse the toxins. 

Closing his eyes, he apparated to his sleeping chambers and gently laid you on his bed. Severus worked quickly to mix up the antivenom. Once it was mixed properly, he used a syringe to inject it into all of your main arteries. 

It became a waiting game. You'd lost a lot of blood, nearly too much, and all Severus could do now was hope you'd wake up. He found himself pacing, checking your pulse every so often to make sure you were still breathing. Eventually, the adrenaline in his body wore off, and it made him realize how tired he was. 

He shed his robe, toed his shoes off, and with a snap of his fingers, a fire began to crackle and pop in the fireplace. He sat and pondered to himself. What was he supposed to do with you? It wasn't like he could take you to Madame Pomfrey now. Not after he'd healed you the best he could. Plus, he was sure the other Hogwarts staff would question him on why he took you back to his chambers. Honestly, he wasn't even sure why he'd done it. He acted on pure instinct. 

His gaze wandered over to where you were laying. Severus felt himself relax upon seeing your chest rise and fall. He'd done it. He'd saved you. His eyes began to get heavy as he listened to your soft breathing. Unable to stay awake any longer, he let sleep consume him. 

The smell of tea filled your nostrils as you tried to recall where you were. Last night's events flooded your mind and your eyes immediately snapped open. 

Scanning the room, your brows furrowed in confusion. This wasn't the hospital wing, and it definitely wasn't Hagrid's. You sat up, your back against the headboard, and scanned your exposed skin. Other than a few bruises, there wasn't any sign of injury on you at all. Had it all been a dream? 

The sound of the door opening brought you out of your thoughts. Your eyes widened at the sight of your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher carrying a teacup and saucer.

"Oh, you're up. Good." He strode over and set the cup down on the nightstand next to you. "Drink this. It'll help you feel better." 

You blinked up at him, your eyes staring into his obsidian ones. Even though he wore a scowl ninety percent of the time, your professor wasn't bad looking. In fact, you found him quite attractive. His form-fitting robes with all those buttons and his confidence drew you in almost immediately. 

It was then that you remembered he'd spoken to you. Forcing your brain to form words, you stuttered out a response.

"I...um…th-thank you, Professor…"

His stone-faced expression didn't waver as he sat down on the comforter next to you.

"Why, Y/N? Why would you put yourself in danger like that?! You could have been killed! Merlin, if it wasn't for your insolent bird, you would have been!" 

You focused on your lap, your cheeks red with shame.

"M'sorry… I was just t-trying to help Hagrid fe-"

You slapped your hand over your mouth and internally cursed yourself. Hagrid made you promise not to tell anyone you were helping him, and here you've almost told none other than Professor Snape! 

"Go on…"

Shaking your head, you moved to get off the bed.

"I… I can't… Thank you for saving me, Professor. I'll just be going…"

His firm hand came to rest on your thigh and with little force, he pushed you back down onto the bed.

"Listen to me, Y/N. I'm your Head of House. Either you tell me what you were doing in that forest, or I'll make you tell me." 

The demand in his tone sent shivers down your spine. It really should be a sin to have a voice like his.

"I-I...um…"

Severus rolled his eyes and stood to walk across the room. He came back with a vial, with a small amount of liquid in the bottom.

"Know what this is?"

You shook your head.

"This is Veritaserum. Three drops of this, and it'll make you spill your darkest...of secrets…" 

You watched as he poured the small amount of liquid into a glass of butterbeer.

"Drink…"

Instead of obeying his orders you grabbed the teacup off the saucer and swallowed its contents.

"Thank you, Professor, but I’m no longer thirsty and I don't like butterbeer." 

For the first time since you arrived at Hogwarts, his lips gave a hint of a smile.

"It's no matter. What do you suppose I did with the rest of the serum, hm?"

All the color drained from your face, your mouth opening and closing like you were a fish out of water. 

"The tea…"

Your professor chuckled, "Yes, the tea. Now, tell me, what were you doing in the Forbidden Forest after curfew?"

You couldn't stop them. It was as if you were possessed. The words came flowing out of you on their own accord.

"I was helping Hagrid feed his mythical creatures. He's in the infirmary sick and I offered to do it so he didn't have to." 

Severus narrowed his eyes. "How long have you been doing this?"

You swallowed thickly. “Since the first day of school. Some of the other Slytherin girls were bullying me so I went for a walk. It was then that I formally met Hagrid. He offered me his spare bedroom, and I’ve been sleeping there ever since…”

He rose to his feet and began pacing again, his hands behind his back. “And he lets you stay...for free?” 

“I can stay as long as I help him tend to the mythical creatures that live in the forest. He taught me everything he knows and I help him with feedings.”

Severus stopped and turned to face you. “Did you ever think of coming to me for help with the bullying? I am the Head of Slytherin you know.” 

Oh, how you wished you could hold back the words threatening to escape. No matter how hard you tried, it was no use.

“I was too nervous to come to you, Professor.”

He raised an eyebrow, his hands fidgeting out in front of him. He knew his presence intimidated most of the children attending Hogwarts, but he decided to use this to his advantage.

“Obviously...And why, do you suppose, I make you so nervous, Y/N?” 

“I suppose it’s because I’m in love with you.”

Your response came out just above a whisper, but he still heard every word. Out of every scenario in his mind, Severus did not expect you, a young woman, to say that. For a rare moment in his life, he was rendered speechless. It took him a moment to collect himself, but once he did he noticed your face was buried in your hands. Merlin, help him, you were crying and it was all his fault. 

He slowly moved to where you were laying and sat down so he was at your level. Without giving it any thought, he pulled you into his chest and began rubbing small circles on your back to soothe you.

“Merlin, what was I thinking? I shouldn’t have forced the truth out of you like that. Please...forgive me.”

You clutched at his robes and moved your tear-filled eyes to his.

“I forgave you the moment it happened, Professor.”

A few silent moments passed between the two of you and he continued to hold your gaze. Severus was the first to move. Ever so slowly, he leaned down to capture your lips. 

His mouth melded with yours perfectly, and he didn’t stop until his lungs demanded it. Your eyes closed, your forehead coming to rest against his.

“Professor I-”

He silenced you with another chaste kiss. “Severus…Call me Severus, Y/N.” 

“Please Severus…make love to me.”

His resolve broke the moment the plea fell from your lips. Severus gently laid you back and gently rid you of your tattered robes. His calloused hands slid over your smooth skin making your breath hitch. He peppered kisses down into the crook of your neck, his path moving to the space between your breasts.

“S-Severus...please…need you…”

He nipped playfully at your jaw and sat up slightly to take his shirt off.

“Patience, Y/N… I’ll take care of you.” 

Once he was bare before you he made his way between your legs. His touch was tentative, his fingertips brushing your folds gingerly. He circled your clit making you arch off the bed.

“Oh, Merlin!... Fuck!”

Severus chuckled and slid two of his fingers inside you curling them upwards.

“Bloody hell, you’re soaked, Y/N…”

He easily found the sensitive spot inside of you, the coil in your core winding tighter and tighter with each passing second.

“Please! Oh…shit… Se-Severus! M’gonna cum… please… please make me cum!”

His cock twitched at your words, precum leaking from the tip.

“Let go, Y/N...cum for me…”

With a cry of his name, you fell over the edge. Your chest heaved as you pulled him up for a heated kiss. 

“Need you, Sev. Need you inside me. Please…”

As carefully as he could, Severus lined himself up and pushed into you.

“Merlin, you’re so tight!”

His thrusts were steady and his kisses were fervent as he made love to you.

“Oh, fuck! Sev! Oh, you’re so good… so good, baby…”

Both of you wanted it to last, but it was clear you both needed the release more.

“Y/N, I won’t last much longer like this… you feel amazing...so amazing.”

You slid your fingers through his thick hair and pulled his mouth down to yours. “Cum with me, Severus…” 

A moment later, both of you soared into bliss together. His lips rested against your own and his body shook as he spilled into you, your walls clenching around his cock. Severus was spent as he settled behind you, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist.

“Y/N, I need to know you’re okay with this...with us…”

Threading your fingers with his, you planted a sweet kiss on the back of his hand.

“Severus, our love may be forbidden, but I’d choose you no matter what it cost me. I’ll take you as you are. Your highs, your lows, all of it. I’ll love you until my last breath.”

He turned you in his arms and cupped your cheek.

“I never thought I’d ever love another. Not after Lily, but seeing you in the forest like that sparked something in me. Something I haven’t felt for nearly fourteen years. I’ll spend forever protecting and loving you. 

As your eyes grew heavy, you felt a new sense of worth. Coming to Hogwarts was something you’d only dreamed of growing up. The moment you found your acceptance letter, you knew your life would change. You never thought you’d find someone to love here, but for once you were happy, and that’s all you’d ever wanted.

[wafflefries13]

Walk Me Home (Bakugou x Reader)

Summary: You get help with a stalker from an unexpected hotheaded source.

AN: I posted this a while ago, like a couple of years, but Tumblr ate it. So, repost!

Warnings: Stalking, kidnapping, canon typical violence. Sort of an au where hero work is more of a college track.

You were racing the drops of condensation dripping down the frosted cooler glass. Personally, you thought the one on the far left was going to win. The center had been in the lead, but it crashed into a glop of drops and was forced to a sudden halt. The middle left gained a sudden lead by dropping down through an empty space. It veered suddenly and crashed into the far left, both of them stopping dead. 

Well, so much for that. 

That was the fifth race you’d monitored this hour. You’d spent the previous hour walking around the aisles of the convenience store you were holed up in, rotating the chip bags, soda bottles, and cans so that all the labels faced outward. The hour before that you spent memorizing the employee cleaning manual kept under the sink in the customer bathroom. And the hour before that you had spent tirelessly counting every ceiling and floor tile (Ceiling = 237, Floor = 422.) You were kind of surprised the worker behind the register hadn't said anything by this point. His feet were kicked up on the counter, and you were pretty sure he hadn’t looked up from his magazine since you came in.  

It was dark outside by now, the street lights the only way to see where you were going. It had been early evening when you had first rushed in. Abandoning your condensation drop race, you sneaked a look out the wide windows that lined the front of the store. There, half-way hidden in the shadows of the large tree, silhouetted by the street lamp light. You jerked back, heart jumping up 100 beats per minute. God, you hoped he hadn’t seen you. But he had to know you were in here. So why hadn’t he come in? Why hadn’t he left? 

You felt sick. You were going to be sick. 

The door chimed as they slid open. Your fight or flight response kicked into overdrive

 (Definitely flight). You ducked behind a display of dill pickle flavored chips. Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God. Did you jinx yourself? Did he see you looking out and take that as an invitation? If he tried to do something, would the cashier help you? Would he even think something was wrong? Would he call a hero? 

“Hey,” A voice broke you out of your panicked internal monologue. “The hell are you doing down there?” 

Wait. You knew that gruff, irreverent voice. 

“Bakugou?” 

You and Bakugou were in the same class at UA. You weren’t sure he actually knew your name, though, much less that you sat a few seats away from each other. 

You looked up from your crouch behind the chips display at his confused and slightly annoyed looking vermilion eyes. Well, his default state was slightly annoyed, so maybe that second part didn’t mean much. He had one hand in his pocket, the other loosely holding a bottle of cola by the neck. 

“Umm,” you said, flustered. “I dropped a 500 yen coin. So, you know, don’t want to lose that. And, hey! These chips are 500 yen, too! So if I find it I can get a bag!” You nervously laughed, still not standing. 

He narrowed his eyes at you, furrowing his eyebrows. Letting your self-consciousness take over, you slowly stood, rubbing your arm awkwardly and not meeting his gaze. Your eyes nervously darted to the large window, trying to see past the glare of the store lights. 

“The hell are you looking at?” Bakugou said, lazily turning his head to look out. 

“Don’t!” You said without thinking. You grabbed his uniform shirt sleeve and pulled him toward you, if only to get his attention away from looking outside. 

He jerked back away from you, bringing up his arm as a barrier between you, as if you could ever do anything to hurt him. “Hah? What the hell?” 

You looked away, wringing your hands together. “Sorry, I just… Can-can you do me a favor?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “Outside, across the street, there’s a big oak tree next to the street light. Is there… Is there someone still standing there?” 

His glare turned less harsh. He rotated his neck and shoulders as if he was stretching his muscles, sneaking a glance through the window. He hummed low in his throat and turned back to you. “Yeah, there’s some creep there. Can’t make them out too well. You know that guy?” 

You pressed your lips, slinking farther to the back of the store and away from the view of the window. “It’s nothing. I can deal with it later. Sorry to bother you.” 

“Jeez,” Bakugou huffed, not buying it for a second. He followed your retreat, looming over you as your back hit the cold window door of the fridge. “You’re really bad at lying, aren’t you? What, is he some ex you’re trying to avoid? Owe someone money?” He smirked at his joke, but his face turned serious again when he saw your concerned and fearful expression. 

“The truth is,” you started in a whisper. “I have a stalker. That guy out there has been following me for a few weeks. Usually it’s from school to work, but today he was waiting till I got done with my shift. I-I didn’t want him to know where I live, so I started taking all these back streets to try and lose him. I thought he’d just get bored or something, but he was always just behind me. So I came in here. Maybe if I Just waited here for a while he’d get bored and leave, but he’s been standing out there, waiting for me, for hours now, and I just want to go home and forget all about this but if I step outside…” 

You weren’t sure when you started crying. All you knew was that at some point you couldn’t keep it in any more and everything started pouring out. You started hiccuping with the effort to keep back tears and making a scene, the heels of your hands digging into your eyes. Bakugou awkwardly rubbed the back of his head and looked away. 

“Jeez,” he said under his breath. “I never know what to do when girls cry. Uh, hang in there?” He patted your shoulder, bringing his hand back when you flinched from his touch. “Have you, like, tried calling the police?” 

“Of course I have. They said they can't do anything because he hasn’t actually done anything illegal. And it’s not like I can get a restraining order or something because I don’t know who he is.” You sniffed. 

“Huh. Well. You want me to go kick his ass?” 

Your brain took a second to process his response, then you burst out in a fit of giggles. He smiled back, more like a self-satisfied smirk. You tried to gulp down a breath, laughing becoming frenzied as the stress of the situation finally overwhelmed you. Then, as suddenly as you started, you stopped as an idea slammed into you. 

“Actually, maybe you could do that.” Bakugou quirked his brow at you. “No, not literally. I mean, well, you’re scaring looking-“

“Hey!” 

“And I was just thinking that maybe if someone was with me - if you were with me - when I walked home, then he wouldn’t think he could, I don’t know, take advantage of the situation?” 

“You want me to be your bodyguard?” 

“I mean, when you put it like that…” You fiddled with your hands again. 

You stood in silence, the only sound the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you and the hum of the drinks fringes behind you. 

Bakugou shoved his drink in your hands. “Pay for this for me. I’m gonna grab some instant noodles and boa buns too. You know how to get home from here?” 

You blinked up at him, twisting the bottle anxiously in your hands. “If we get to the train station, then I know where to go from there.” 

He jerked his head to the front. “Great, let’s hurry it up. I want to get home too, you know.” 

You blinked. “Wait, really?” 

“Yes, really. Move your ass.” 

You followed closely behind him, paying for the snacks at the counter. You hesitated when the doors to the convenience store slide open, standing half-way out. The street light hit your eyes differently out here, blinding you to the already dark shadows. Was that a twitch of movement? A hidden figure in the mess of shapes cast by the trees? 

Bakugou’s grip on your wrist shocked you out of your grim hyperactive imagination like a bucket of ice water. His mouth was pulled into a frown, but he gently pulled you out of the doorway. He let you go as you walked out of the light of the store. You desperately wanted him not to. 

It didn’t take long before you heard a third set of footsteps join yours and Bakugou’s. You inched closer to him, arms brushing together. Seemingly unconcerned, Bakugou munched on a boa bun. 

“Hey,” He said. The abruptness of it in the otherwise silent night made you jump. “Didn’t you win the 50 meter dash in the sports festival last year?” 

“Uh, yeah?” 

“Cool. This should be easy, then.”         

He whipped around, chucking the boa bun directly at the man following you. You heard a sound of surprise. Bakugou grabbed your hand and took off in the other direction. Your feet pounded against the sidewalk, knees high in a way that you would have considered indecent in your uniform skirt if you weren’t already terrified. Your heart pounded in your ears as he led you down turn after turn, block after block. After the length of several 50 meter dashes, he let go of your hand, Both of your long strides slowing down as you came to a stop in the glow of the train station’s entrance. You bent over, hands steadying yourself on your thighs. Next to you, Bakugou stretched backward, pulling his arms back to ease the muscles. 

“Well, that wasn’t too terrible, huh?” He said with a smirk. 

You gave a breathy laugh. Standing up, you searched the dark around you for any signs of human disturbance. You pushed your hair out of your face, sweat sticking to your forehead from your impromptu marathon. 

“Sorry you had to sacrifice your bun.” 

He shrugged. “You‘ll just owe one. You know where to go from here?” 

The two of you started down the road back to your house. You tried to fill the space between you with small talk. Bakugou would grunt in response every once and a while. You tried to ignore the feeling that he was getting annoyed with you. But whenever you would trail off, he’d snap at you to continue your line of thought.

You weren’t sure what time it was when you finally got home,  just that it was late. The windows were dark and you fumbled with your key. Bakugou skeptically observed your house. 

“You’re not home alone, right?” He asked. 

“I am, actually. My parents work for a pretty new company, so they’re out of the city a lot for business trips.” 

“Hah?” He sounded indignant, like you personally offended him. “They left you alone with this creep around?” 

“I mean, I haven’t really told them.” You pressed your lips, trying not to meet his furious glare. “They already just deal with a lot. And I already told you what the police said. I just don’t want to worry them, you know?” 

He tapped your forehead with his knuckles. “Idiot. Parents are supposed to worry, that’s what they’re there for.” He glowered as his cell phone rang. Fishing it out of his pocket, he mumbled, “Speak of the devil.” He held up a hand in goodbye. You waved a little before dropping in to a bow of gratitude. You could hear him arguing with the person on the other end of the line. 

You triple checked all the locks on your windows and doors, turning on all the lights. You drew the curtains in tight, not looking too deeply into the dark outside. But you were home now, you were safe behind these familiar walls. And besides, that guy didn’t know where you lived, right? 

~~~

You were still half asleep at your desk in school the next day. You hadn’t slept well last night, jerking back awake at the slightest irregular noise. You were becoming a wreck. You weren’t sure exactly how much more of this you could take. After you had woken up for the n-th time last night, you had typed out a text to your mom, explaining what was happening back home. Agonizing over the text, you ended up deleting it. 

You started nodding off. You could just rest your eyes for a second, right? It was a passing period, so you had some time. 

A stack of textbooks slammed down on your desk. You shrieked, throwing yourself back. You would have fallen back if someone didn’t catch your chair. 

“Whoa, hang on there, (Y/N)!” Kirishima caught your chair and set you back upright. Bakugou drummed his fingers on the textbooks he had just stopped your heart with. 

“Thought you were going to bed after I left last night,” He said. 

“Ooh, left last night?” Mina said, sliding over. “Is there something we need to know?” 

“Lay off, Pinkie!” 

“No, it’s no big deal, really!” You tried to salvage the situation, waving your hands in front of you. “We just walked home in the same direction is all.” 

“Walking home together?” Sero said, leaning back in his chair. “That’s a pretty big leap in your relationship, don’t you think, Bakugou?” 

“I said to lay off, you damn extras!” 

The small group started playfully arguing with each other. It didn’t feel at all serious, especially since every one but Bakugou was laughing and joking against his threats. 

“Can’t anyone have a private conversation around here?” Bakugou said angrily. He stomped away, turning back at the door. “Well, aren’t you coming?” Realizing he was talking to you, you quickly excused yourself and hurried after him. 

Bakugou was leaning out an open window, the autumn wind tossing his hair. Not sure exactly what you say, you bowed a little. “Thanks again for last night.” 

“Do you have any clubs after school?” Bakugou asked, ignoring your gratitude. 

You blinked.”No, I don’t. I have to head to work after the final bell.” 

“And how far is that from here?” 

“Not very. It’s a Japanese sweets cafe that opened nearby. I’ve seen some people with our school’s uniform there, so I guess it’s pretty popular here.” 

“And how long’s your shift?” 

“From 4 to 6:30 on school days, 8 to 4 on the weekends. But, um, why?” 

He scoffed, knocking your forehead with his knuckle like he had the night before. “Idiot. Obviously because I’m gonna make sure you get to work and home okay. You said that weirdo followed you from school to work. So we’ll walk there together then back to your place. At least till your parents get back in town, because you’re definitely telling them, you got it?” 

You could feel yourself blushing hard. “Yeah, sure, of course! That’s really kind of you, actually. Thank you!” 

Bakugou waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t take it personally or anything. I just don’t want to be watching the news and hear your dumbass got kidnapped or some bullshit like that.” 

You weren’t really sure how to respond to that, so you just twirled a lock of hair around your finger. “Still, I really appreciate it. It’s really heroic of you!” 

Bakugou whipped his head away, but you were almost sure you caught his cheeks turning pink. “Tch, whatever. Don’t think too hard about it. And I still expect payment! You better be ready to cough up some of those sweets from your job!” 

~~~

“So, (Y/N),” Your coworker, Matsu, said while elbowing you good-naturedly. “Who’s your friend you brought in today?” She winked and nodded her head at a small table set on the patio of your workplace. 

Bakugou was studying, gnawing at the end of his pen. He’d planted himself there after the two of you left school. He’d kept on a steady diet of sweets since your shift started, and you started getting worried about what your paycheck at the end of the month would look like. Once again, you talked the whole way through your walk with only interspersed responses from the blond. But you felt much more comfortable chatting this time, less like you were bothering him. Although you knew he would never admit it, you had a feeling that Bakugou could really be kind under all that ego and anger. 

You started placing chick-shaped meika hiyoko in a tray in the display case. “Bakugou is a friend from school. Well, I think you’d call him a friend, anyway. He’s just waiting for my shift to end to walk me home.” 

You didn’t like the self-satisfied look that came over Matsu’s face. “Ooh, walking you home, huh?” 

“Oh, stop coming up with ridiculous ideas! He’s just…” You trailed off. How exactly were you meant to explain your situation? 

You were saved from responding with a knock on the window. Bakugou mouthed an order of Shingen Momo. You quickly excused yourself despite Matsu’s teasing protests. 

Bakugou had a healthy stack of plates from previous sweets stacked next to his text book. You tried mentally adding a tally of how much his little feast was going to cost you. You set the plate down and looked over his shoulder at what he was studying. 

“Wow,” You commented. “That looks really difficult. Did I miss something in class today?” 

“No,” He said. “I’m studying for college entrance exams.” 

“Oh, right. You want to get into that famous hero college, right? I guess they have to be pretty tough. I heard Izuku in our class wants to go there, too.” 

Bakugou snapped the pencil he was holding. “That damn Deku! Always trying to take my ideas! Who does he think he is, trying to be a hero, huh?! No one even knew he had a Quirk until recently! He pretty much breaks every bone in his body when he uses it! How’s a loser like that meant to be a hero?!” 

You were a little shocked. You didn’t think you’d ever seen Bakugou this suddenly passionate about anything. Yet, despite his negative ramblings, he came across as admiring the boy with green hair in your class, talking about Izuku’s training schedule and how strong he had gotten since they knew each other in middle school. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sudden uproar. Hearing you, Bakugou cut himself off, quickly glancing away. 

He fished another pencil out of his bag and re-focused on his text book. “That creep is still here.” Your mouth went dry as all frivolity seeped from your body. Bakugou stealthy pointed the end of his pencil to  a garden store across the street. “He’s been walking in and out of stores this whole time. He’s hiding out there now. Definitely keeping an eye out.” 

You gulped hard. “What should we do?” 

“Well, first, you can bring me another momiji manju. Then, go back to work. Let me know when your shift ends. You guys have a back door, right? We can go through that, cut through the big inside shopping center.” He pulled out his phone and opened an app. “I looked it up. There’s another train station near here. It goes right to the one near your house. We’ll jump on there.” 

You expected your heartbeat to slow down now that there was a solution to the probable danger. But instead it kept speeding up as you thought of the work Bakugou had put into researching his escape plan. 

“Wow,” You breathed. “I guess you really are my hero, huh?” 

Bakugou bristled, turning his face away before you could see it turning red (although the tips of his ears were practically a cherry color by now), and shoved an empty plate at you. “Momiji manju! And make sure it’s hot this time!” 

~~~

“He’s still behind us.” 

Your stalker was more cautious this time. He was making more of an effort to go unnoticed, ducking in and out of shops, getting lost in the crowd, but still keeping an uncomfortably close distance. 

Bakugou clicked his teeth. “This guy doesn't know when to quit. You’re sure he doesn’t know where you live, right?” 

“I’ve never seen him around. But…” You let the thought hang between the two of you like a dark cloud. 

Bakugou seemed to be contemplating something for a second. Clenching and unclenching his fists, his hand shot forward to tightly grip onto yours. You started a little at his sudden aggressive hand holding, but flexed your fingers to intertwine with his. Bakugou cleared his throat, looking away. 

“You’re not-“ You could have sworn you heard his voice crack, not that you would ever admit it. Bakugou cleared his throat and started again. “You’re not scared of heights, are you?” 

“Not really. Why?” 

Faster than you could keep up with, Bakugou pulled you closer. His other arm swept down, scooping you up under your knees and holding you to his chest. He took two large steps before kicking off a vending machine on the side of the street. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he took off his support from your back, pointing his hand palm down and releasing a blast. The explosion rocked through your ears as the two of you were propelled upward. A scream died in your throat. Just before you landed on the roof of a store neighboring the street you were just walking along, he released another explosion which propelled you even higher and further. 

“I thought you said you weren’t afraid of heights,” Bakugou said with a laugh in his voice. “Open your eyes.” 

You didn’t really notice how tightly you had clenched your eyes until he told you to open them. You had your head buried in the crook of his neck, the scent of caramelized sugar and smoke overwhelming your senses. You cracked open one eye just as Bakugou launched you both high in the air. You lost your breath, gazing in wonder at the sight before you. The sky was ablaze with red, oranges, and purples as the sun set. A band of stars was just twinkling into existence at the very top of the sky. The town below you looked just like a train-set model, tiny and delicate and perfect. Your stomach dropped as you plummeted back down. You laughed, yelling, clutching to him tighter. He tightened his hold around waist, smirk widening into a genuine heartfelt smile. 

You both stumbled a bit, coming to a rocky landing in your neighborhood. There weren’t any more commercial buildings around, so you thought the residents would be grateful that they wouldn’t have to deal with shoe prints on their roofs. The air around you was crisp with the scent of melting sugar. You were lost to a giggle fit, holding your stomach as you tried to get a hold of yourself. 

“You think he saw that coming?” Bakugou asked with a sideways grin. 

“This is worth all the momiji manju in the world if we get to do that again!” 

Bakugou’s chest swelled with pride as he brushed off invisible dirt. “Hah, what I tell you? It’s going to take a lot more than some creep in a black hoodie to get one over on Bakugou Katsuki.” 

You clapped for him. “Full marks, Mr. Future-Number-One-Hero.” He ducked his head, looking away bashfully. You started walking in the direction of your house. “How did you even come up with that idea?” 

“Rockets. I figure you have to get some pretty powerful force to shoot something that high up. And considering my Quirk is the most powerful force out there, well, it was a cinch.” 

“So is that going to be your hero name, then? Rocket Man?” 

He scowled. “No way! My hero name’s gonna be something way cooler! Like, like,” For someone who had dedicated his whole life to becoming a hero, you thought it was a little cute that he had left off some of the more practical aspects, like what he would be called. He snapped his fingers. “What about Lord Explosion?!” 

You tried to bite back a laugh. You failed. “It’s a little obvious, don’t you think?” 

“Alright then. What about King Murder?” 

“Well, it’s certainly direct.” 

“Wait, I’ve got it! Lord Explosion Murder!” 

You stopped trying to hide your laughter. “Perfect. I can see it on all the T-shirts now.” 

He pouted, no doubt trying to look menacing. “Alright, what’s your great idea?” 

You hummed in thought. “What about Ground Zero? That’s what you call the middle of a major disaster. You know, like an explosion? It’s kind of metaphorical, thematic, and way more marketable than having the word ‘murder’ in your title.” 

Bakugou looked down, eyebrows furrowed. “Damn. That is good.” He gave you a sideways look. “What’s your Quirk, anyway?” 

You fiddled with your fingers. “It’s nothing too fancy. Nothing heroic or strong like yours, I mean.” You pressed your lips together and whistled. Instead of a normal sharp note, however, you replicated a perfect Asian Koel call. Not a second later, you heard a reply from a nearby park. Altering your call al title, a small brown bird with white speckles and red eyes flew down and landed on the back of your hand. You alternated with a few more calls, a Pacific Swift, Gray Nightjar, Kentish Plover, and Japanese Sparrowhawk. One by one, the birds would respond and come to perch on your hand or shoulder, the plover taking a dignified seat on your head. The sparrowhawk squaked at Bakugou when he tried to poke it. 

“I can recreate any birdsong if I hear it once,” You explained. The Koel cooed as you pet under its chin. “I can kind of understand them, too. Not in a Dr. Dolittle way or anything, more just the general idea of what they’re trying to communicate. Danger, hungry, food here, that kind of thing.”

“Must be fun in the spring.” 

“Ugh, you have no idea. It’s impossible to sleep in.” 

“Maybe they’re just trying to chat you up.” Bakugou created a little explosion in his hand. The birds squaked in protest and flew away. “Little bastards. Don’t birds have noises to let other birds know not to mooch on their territory?” 

“You mean a song? And what do you have to defend anyway?” 

He slung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close again. “Birds mate for life or some shit, right? They need to know you’re not available.” 

Your heart definitely didn’t skip a beat. Definitely. 

~~~

One of the last things you expected the next morning was to find Bakugou waiting impatiently at your front door. “What am I supposed to do if you just don’t show up for class, huh?” He declared with a haughty attitude. “You’ll make me feel guilty.” He came in, slugging off his shoes at the doorway and collapsing on the couch in the living room. “Let me know when you’re done with breakfast then we can leave.” 

“Oh,” You said. “I, uh, don’t usually eat breakfast. I try to get to school early, so…” 

Bakugou furrowed his eyebrows. “Seriously? It’s the first thing in the morning. How are you supposed to have energy for the rest of the day?” He put on a begrudging air as he marched to the kitchen. He started pulling out pans and rummaging through the fridge and pantry. “Geez, you have nothing here! What, your parents didn’t leave any grocery money when they abandoned you here? Well don’t just stand there. Go finish getting ready. I’ll get something together by the time you’re done.” 

Unsure about leaving him alone in your kitchen, but in no position to refuse him, you headed back to your bathroom to try and make it look like you had been getting a decent night's sleep for the past week. 

Slugging your backpack over your shoulder, you came back downstairs to the smell of warm waffles. How Bakugou had managed to make a giant stack of fluffy waffles in the few minutes you were gone was beyond you. 

“Shouldn’t we eat on the go?” You asked when he set down a plate on the table. 

He tapped the long handle of the spatula against his shoulder. “You have way too many unhealthy habits. You don’t ask for help, you don’t eat breakfast. What am I going to do with you?” He pushed you down into a chair and took a seat in the one next to you, angrily stabbing the top waffle and taking a massive bite out of it before it even made it to his plate. “Eating on the go messes with your digestion. If you want to be helpful, start making a grocery list. You don’t work today, right? We’ll go to the store after school. I don’t need the stress of having you pass out from hunger on top of everything else.” 

You stared at him as he wolfed down his breakfast. When he noticed you still haven’t taken anything, he shoved the plate to you. Taking a waffle, you couldn’t help but have a large smile spread across your face. 

“You really are nice, aren’t you, Bakugou?” 

He choked on his waffle. He refused to look at you for the rest of the morning. 

~~~

Bakugou had been walking you to and from home for three weeks now. People at school had definitely started  to notice. Especially after he started to drag you to eat lunch with him and his friends, lunches that he had made for you. You started showing off your Quirk a little more. Your favorite was calling down crows, bribing him with shinny pins and glass gems. You especially got a kick out of Denki freaking out when the birds mimicking human speech. 

Without really noticing, you had slowly stopped being so nervous. You didn’t triple check your windows and doors at night, you weren’t always looking over your shoulder, you didn’t flinch when the chime over the door at work sounded. 

You had also been growing significantly closer to Bakugou. You didn’t think it was at all possible for someone so rough to have such a sweet side. Sure, everything kind he did was still smothered in his devil may care attitude, but you came to learn that his abrupt remarks and aggressive personality was just a top layer. Bakugou knew what he wanted in life and was never subtle about sharing his thoughts. But his own emotions still came as an annoying mystery to him. He would intertwine his fingers with yours, declaiming with a blush and avoiding your eyes that he just wanted just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get lost or snatched away from him. He made sure you started eating well, something you had all but dropped due to stress. He would pull you into the kitchen with him, having you help him making breakfast and your bento lunches. 

There was one situation where sitting on the patio of the sweet shop you worked at. Your boss had noticed his frequent stays and had recruited him to help test new recipes. Not to mention this helped ease the impact on your pay check. 

Munching on a new flavor of melon pan, you two chatted under the warm sun. Giggling at some remark he made, you froze when you felt his fingers brush your face. Suddenly, Bakugou was less than a breath away from you. He brushed a lock of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. His hand dropped down to your chin, eyes falling to your lips. Your heart started stuttering, breath coming out in shallow gasps. He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip. 

Bakugou looked up, searching your face. You let your eyes flutter closed, leaning forward. 

You both must have jumped three feet in the air with the interrupting squawk. A crow perched on your head, beak darting forward to peck at the melon pan forgotten in Bakugou’s hand. Bakugou yelled at the bird, waving it away and yelling obscenities at it. But that didn’t stop him from tearing off a chunk of the sweet bread and throwing it to him. 

You both kept the blushes for the rest of the day. 

~~~

You knew that nothing this good could last forever. 

It started out like any other new-normal day. You were walking home from work with Bakugou. It was late autumn now, the days getting shorter and nights longer. The sun had already completely set as you strolled down the street. You didn’t notice something was wrong immediately. But then your stomach started to turn into knots. You shuffled closer to Bakugou who seemed to be noticing that something was amiss, too. You kept telling yourself that you were being paranoid. Nothing had happened for so long now, why would something suddenly happen now? 

And then you heard the sparrow start singing. It was high pitched and panicked. A few swept down, fluttering in front of the two of you before cascading back up to their tree. You knew that sound. It meant danger. 

You latched yourself to Bakugou’s side. “Bakugou,” You whispered. “Something’s wrong.” 

He wrapped his arm around you. “Yeah, I noticed. Stay close, okay?” 

You were afraid that you were practically tripping over his feet. But you didn’t want to move away. Every muscle tense, you looked over your shoulder. He was walking behind the street lights, staying out of the majority of the light. The street lights just barley illuminated his dark clothes, his hunched figure, determinately marching at a steady pace. Was he holding something? Did he just speed up? Was he-? 

Bakugou stopped suddenly. You stumbled a bit, clutching his arm to get your balance again. “Bakugou?” 

He whipped around. “Hey! Asshole!” He turned to you, hesitating for only a second before cradling your face, maybe a little more aggressively than he should have, rattled by nerves, and kissed you. It wasn’t extremely romantic, your teeth clashed for a moment, his fingers burying in your hair. He dropped one of his hands to your hip, pulling you closer and angling his head. The kiss was desperate, urgent, trying to communicate feelings and thoughts that it would have been difficult to vocalize. Your eyes fluttered closed. You pressed back up into him, one hand resting on his shoulder and the other tangerine in his mess of spiky blond hair. 

The seconds stretched on for what seemed like minutes, but when you pulled away it felt like it was over all too fast. You tried to regain your breath, slightly panting. He looked into your eyes with an intensity and softness you had never seen from him, all his layers peeled back to show a soft and caring core. 

His face suddenly hardened. He pulled you into him, turning his face to look back at your stalker, who you had almost completely forgotten about during your kiss. 

“She’s not interested!” He shouted. “She’s got a boyfriend! Get it through your thick skull! And if I ever find out you’re nothing my girlfriend again, I’ll kill you, got it?!” 

You looked at your stalker straight on from the first time. He was this dark shadow that cut through the street lamps lights. He was shaking, with nerves you hoped, but more likely with rage. But at least, standing in front of you, with someone strong at your side, he looked so much more human. This wasn’t a shadow with fangs and claws. Just a person. Sure, an unhinged person who had been following you, but you had back up. A whole team of support both emotionally and physically. 

The stalker didn’t say anything, just stared at the two of you. He looked like he was going to come to you, to fight, to scream. But he just turned, marching away, back into the dark. 

~~~

“Do you think he’s actually done?” You asked. You were back at your house, nervously chopping leeks for lunch in the coming week. 

“Damn better be,” Bakugou said. He reclined on the couch, flipping through a magazine. 

“I guess that means you don’t have to walk me home any more then,” You said, leadingly. 

You smirked when you heard him slam the magazine back on the coffee table. “Like hell! You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you? I can walk you home whenever I damn well feel like it! Or, you know, if you want me to, I mean. You still want me to, right?” 

You tried to press down your grin as you walked back into the living room, sitting down next to him. “So, you were serious about that? You’re my boyfriend now?” 

He scowled. “I don’t say anything you mean. You’re mine now, got it?” 

You smiled and kissed his check. “Only if that means you’re mine, too.” 

He blushed up to his ears, pressing his face to the top of your head. “Sure.” 

~~~

An hour later, there was a knock on the door. 

Bakugou left just a little while ago, and since then you had taken a shower, changing into your pajamas. Coming down stairs to check the locks and lights one last time, you saw Bakugou’s laying across the back of the couch. You picked it up, rubbing your thumb over the collar. You’d have to give it back to him at school tomorrow. You smiled fondly, thinking of what he’d try to say to justify him forgetting something. 

And then someone knocked at the door. 

You started a little. You put a hand to your chest to calm your beating heart. It must have been Bakugou. You supposed Bakugou had realized he had misplaced his jacket and come back. Well, you didn’t mind seeing him again, you supposed. 

Practically skipping to the front door, you opened the door with a smile. You barely had the door cracked when it slammed open, cracking against the wall, the knob indenting in the soft drywall. You shrieked and fell back, landing hard on your butt. Before you could regain your bearings, a heavy weight pressed down on you. 

Your eyes bulged open. A man in all black was on top of you, knee pressing into your chest, one hand securely applying pressure to your throat and the other pressing a too sweet smelling rag against your nose and mouth. The bottom of his face was covered by a black bandana, but his eyes were wide and blood shot. He was muttering something to himself, or maybe you? But the blood rushing to your ears blocked out any cognizant thought. 

Your hands flew around, slapping and shoving, trying to jab your thumbs into the soft tissues of his eyes, clawing at his cheeks. But nothing seemed to bother him too much. And then things started getting fuzzy at the edges. The spiked fear in your head started swirling around. Your limbs felt heavy and stopped responding to your commands. Then everything fell, and the dark pulled you in with an ice cold grip. 

~~~ 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. It was dark, so dark you almost thought you were blindfolded. You were curled  up in an uncomfortable ball, something fibrous was shoved in your mouth. You tried to poke it out with your dry tongue, but it didn't budge. Your hands were fastened behind you with plastic zip ties. You flexed your fingers, coming to grasp  the thin but strong metal bars behind you. You tried to stretch out your legs, but your bare feet came into contact with more of these bars. Trying to sit up, you could only manage an awkward hunch as a roof of bars thunked against your head. A cage. You were in a dog cage. You were tied up in a dog cage in the dark. 

You tried to kick against the bars, but you couldn’t build up much force with so little space. All it did was shake the cage in an awful rattle. You stopped when you heard footsteps. You shuffled on your side to the back of the cage, which wasn’t saying much with how little room there was any way. 

The door to the room the cage was in opened. You squinted against the sudden light, temporarily blinded. Blinking up at the figure of your capture, You felt the blood in your veins turn to ice. Your ears rang with the sudden surge of adrenaline and every muscle in your body told you to get ready to run. 

Your capture, your stalker, stood like a horrible stain, silhouetted in the light. He pulled back the hood on his jacket, beaming down at you. This is the first time you had seen his face up close. Did you know him? You think he might have come into the shop once or twice. But you couldn’t think of any time you would have talked to him. 

He smiled like a kid in a candy store. It made you ill.  “You’re awake!” He said. His voice was chipped, strained from years of smoke. The reek of it hung on his clothes and wafted through the room. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I know it’s small and uncomfortable. But I had to make sure, you know? You get it, right? I had to speed everything up, see? I just-” He balled his hands into fists. Suddenly, he slammed down on his knees in front of you. Your shriek was cut off by the gag in your mouth. “I had to get you away from him! The way he was all over you, touching you, grabbing you, k-k-kissing you!” He slammed his fists on the cage, making it shudder. He saw your wide eyes, your trembling. He lowered his voice, leaning down to look closer at you. “I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t your fault. He was taking advantage of you, right? But it’s okay, I have you now! And don’t worry, we’ll get out of here soon. There’s this place, way out in the mountains. We’ll be safe there. I have a room, just for you. A little palace for the perfect little doll…” 

He tried to reach through the bars and touch your face. You screamed through your gag, trying to kick away his hand. He jerked back, surprised. He got angry in a flash. Slamming his fist against the bars again, he got up, muttering to himself about how this would all be solved once he could get you out of the city, how that damn boy had tried to poison you against him. 

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. You had to get out. You had to get out! You squirmed against your bonds, but only succeeded in having them cut deeper into your flesh. 

You felt a chill in the room. You squinted, trying to see through the dark. You noticed a blackout curtain taped around a window. One corner fluttered away. The window must have been slightly opened. If you could just get your gag out…

You chewed at the dense fabric. Bits were coming off in your mouth, getting stuck between your teeth. Working your jaw until it felt like it was about to fall off, you finally managed to work it loose enough to shove it from your mouth with your tongue. Pressing your lips together, you let out a pitiful excuse for a whistle. You swallowed hard, willing saliva back into your mouth. Once more, you whistled, the sound transforming into a Russet Sparrow call. You thought you heard a faint reply from outside, but couldn’t be sure with every one of your nerves rattled and frayed. 

You ran your fingers along the bottom edge of the cage. Along the back side, where the bars met the hard metal floor, there was a small lip of metal, something that had been welded wrong in the cage’s construction. Maneuvering your bound wrists, you started to saw at the zip ties with that jutting piece of metal. 

~~~

He’d forgotten his damn jacket. 

Bakugou was on his way home after leaving your place. Halfway there, he suddenly realized he felt a lot colder than he had when walking to your house. He supposed he could always turn around and pick it up now. It would give him another excuse to see you. But his old hag would probably just get angry at him if he showed up later than normal. Still, maybe he could just use the later hour as an excuse and stay at your house for the night. Sleeping on the couch, of course!  But he did wonder what you looked like first thing in the morning…

Feathers flung in his face.  Bakugou jerked back, swiping at the air in front of him. A couple of those small birds you would chirp at was frantically flying circles above him. One dive bombed him again, chirping nervously and fast. 

“Beat it, dumb birds!” He whacked at them again. Stupid jelous birds. 

Then he noticed their patterns. Sure, they would dive down at him, but then they would shoot up and fly back in the direction of your house, circling back to him. It was almost like they wanted him to go back there…

Bakugou broke out in a cold sprint. His feet pounded the pavement as the birds flew leading the way. He was panting by the time he reached your street, more out of the rising dread in his chest than actual exhaustion. 

Reaching the front gate to your house, he froze. The door was wide open. He launched himself inside, yelling your name. His coat lay in a crumpled heap just inside the entrance. Underneath it was a strange rag. Picking it up, Bakugou felt that it was slightly wet. He brought it to his face and sniffed, jerking it back when the sickly sweet smell hit his nose. Chloroform. 

His mide connected the dots in a flash. He yelled angrily and punched the wall, the drywall caving it without his notice. He dropped the rag and headed back outside. 

He saw the birds chittering in a tree branch. “Hey!” He yelled at them. “You know where she is, right? She sent you to tell me. Take me to her!” At the back of his mind, Bakugou felt like an idiot for yelling at birds in the middle of the night. A sense of relief overwhelmed him when the birds chirped again and purposefully flew away, darting back to him to make sure he was following. 

~~~

You couldn’t tell if you were making any headway with the zipties. Did they feel looser or was that your imagination? Or perhaps you were just losing feeling in your hands from the cutoff of blood flow. But you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop the one thing that might help yourself. 

With a sound that to you mimicked a thunder clap, one of the zipties snapped. You almost sobbed in relief as you brought your hands to your front and rubbed your wrists. You tugged on the other plastic tie around your wrist, but it was still stubbornly strong. You’d have to cut it off with a knife or something. 

A knife! You needed something to protect yourself with. There was no way of knowing if your bird distress call had actually reached anyone. You needed to take care of yourself, get outside, get to a phone or a police station or a hero or something. You knew you had a slim chance of taking on your attacker in a one-to-one fight. He had at least a foot and a hundred pounds on you, not to mention whatever his Quirk might be. 

You fumbled around in the dark, trying to find the latch for the cage. Swiping randomly, your fingers clutched around the pull handle for the door. You tried to yank to open but it wouldn’t budge. Feeling around, you clutched a heavy padlock firmly attached to the handle. Of course your stalker would have taken extra precautions, and you didn’t think you could break the lock with a thin piece of metal. 

No sooner had hopelessness started to creep back into your mind than you heard the door to the room click open. You threw yourself back against the far side of the cage, shoving the gag back in your mouth and putting your arms behind you as if they were still tied. 

Your stalker peeked in, smiling widely like he had a wonderful surprise for you. “We’re almost ready,” He said, giddily. “I can get you ready to move now. You’re just going to have to sleep for a little longer, okay? By the time you wake up, everything will be fixed!” 

You watched in disgusted horror as he took out another rag, licking it to soaking with his saliva. Was that what he had pressed against your mouth and nose back at your house? Did he have some sort of chloroform-saliva Quirk? If you weren’t going to be sick before, you definitely were now. 

But then he fished out a key from the pocket of his ill-fitting sweatpants. His hands shook as he tried to fit the key in the lock of the cage. You still had the element of surprise on him. You pictured your plan of attack. When he opened the cage door to grab you, you’d kick him. Then, while distracted, you’d claw at his face, bite him if you had to. You didn’t need to beat him, you just needed to distract and disorientate him enough to make it out of the room. You could close the door behind you. Maybe there was something near you could barricade it with.  Then just sprint as fast as you could to the door. He made it sound like you were still in the city, in a residential district as the very least. You could run next door, hide in someone's backyard, pound on their door until they let you in to call the police. 

Just as he fit the key into the lock, there was a loud sound from outside the room. It sounded like it came from downstairs, banging. Your stalker glowered, ripping the key from the lock. He tossed it on a desk in the room, slamming the door behind him as he marched out to deal with the intrusion. 

You were barely able to fit your hand through the bars, much less reach the key. You took a steadying breath before starting to whistle the sparrow song again. You heard a faint reply from outside. You whistled more frantically, a sharp song that indicated danger. You could just barley make out a lump pushing against the blackout curtains covering the window. A tiny tan bird head popped up from the corner of the curtain. You could have cried. Quieting your whistle, you nodded your head at the desk with the key. The little bird fluttered its wings, hopping around the room. It probably didn’t have the best night vision either. 

You heard banging coming from downstairs. There was a roar of something you quickly recognized as an explosion. Bakugou? Your message had reached him! And now he was fighting your attacker by himself. You had hoped he would call the police or a hero or something. Honestly, you thought to yourself, you should have seen this coming. 

The sparrow found the desk. It pushed the key off with its beak. The key was about the same size as the sparrow. It had a little trouble carrying the key over to you. It dropped it just within reach of your index finger to pull it into the cage. Using two fingers to hold the key, the most you could fit between the bars, you jammed the key into the lock and twisted it. You had never been so happy to hear a click before. 

You slammed the cage door open, causing the bird to flutter away in surprise. You stretched your aching muscles as you unfolded yourself from the cage. Whipping your head around, you tried to find some sort of weapon you could use to help Bakugou. Seeing nothing in the small room, you opened the door just enough to peak out. As silently as you could, your legs still half asleep from being stuck in a cramp position, you snuck out into the hall. 

Downstairs, you heard Bakugou yell. The little sparrow dove down the staircase and you followed. You saw Bakugou and your attacker grappling in the living room which was crowded with moving boxes. Your stalker had his teeth sunken in to Bakugou’s arm. His arm fell limply to his side as numbness seemed to spread to that whole part of his body. 

Frantically looking around, you saw a half-packed lamp sticking out of one of the boxes. You heaved it up, the weight reassuring in your hands. 

Bakugou spotted you over your stalker’s shoulder. “(Y/N)!” He barked out. “Run!” 

Just as your attacker turned around, you surged forward with the lamp held aloft. With a scream, you brought it down on his head with all the strength you could muster in your addled limbs. He crumpled to the floor like wet cardboard. Blood began to leak from his skull. You dropped the lamp, the feeling on impact still drumming through your fingers. 

“(Y/N)!” Bakugou called again. He stumbled to you, his left side already half paralized by your stalker’s Quirk infused bite. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Did he touch you? I told you to run, idiot! How did he get inside your house?” Before he had a chance to breathe, much less answer his questions, his left leg gave out on him. You caught him, halfway holding him up. 

“I’ll tell you everything when we get to the police, okay?” You said in a frazzled voice. He tried to haul himself up to standing, but he might as well have been standing on a broken ankle. 

Bakugou told you where the front door was. You half dragged him through the house to get outside. Just as you opened the front door, you felt something hard and heavy plow into the small of your back. You went flying forward, dropping Bakugou who landed with a grunting thud. 

“(Y/N)!” You heard from behind you. You pushed yourself up, looking behind you. Your stalker, face now red with dripping blood and wild eyes, stumbled towards the two of you. “Don’t you see what he’s doing? He’s trying to poison you against me! He’s going to take you away from me! Unless… He already has! He’s corrupted you!” He lifted his leg to kick Bakugou in the stomach. Bakugou lifted his good arm and released an explosion aimed at the stalker’s stomach. The second man yelled in pain and was blasted backwards. 

Bakugou shoved himself up, propping himself up on his good knee and maneuvered his way in front of you. “This time, listen to me and go,” He said sternly. 

“Bakugou!” You protested. 

He looked over his shoulder at you and smirked. “Hey, I’m your hero, right? That means I got to protect you, even if I get hurt.” 

Your stalker roared, thrashing as he picked himself off the ground. The place where Bakugou’s explosion had caught him ripped his oversized hoodie, revealing his belly and chest that now had burns. He roared again and started charging to you. 

You gripped Bakugou’s good shoulder, pulling him back. You threw yourself in front of him, spreading your arms wide and closing your eyes tight. 

Just when you were expecting a blow from your stalker, you heard an annoyed and surprised grunt from him instead. Opening your eyes, you saw the deranged man tangled in ribbons of white cloth. He snapped and tried to lash out at it, but the more he struggled the tighter it became. 

A man appeared behind him, seeming to melt out of the shadows. He tugged the white cloth so it snapped tight around your stalker, pinning his arms and legs so he fell over unbalanced. The man controlling the cloth was dressed in all black, goggles over his eyes and a mess of black hair. He pulled his goggles up, revealing extremely tired looking eyes. He quirked an eyebrow at the two of you. 

“Isn’t it past your bedtime by now?” 

~~~

The next half hour was a rush of commotion. The hero, Eraserhead, who had secured your stalker called for an ambulance and the police. As soon as the red and blue lights were visible, he left, leaving your stalker tied and gagged against a street lamp. You barely had time to thank him while Bakugou grumbled about not needing saving behind you. 

The paramedics gave Bakugou an injection to counteract the poison from your stalker’s Quirk. The police quickly took him away as he shouted obscenities, making promises that he’d come back to you, that he’d save you. You tried to take some comfort in the officer’s promise that the man would never see the outside of a jail cell again. 

You sat in the back of the ambulance, a heavy blanket around your shoulders. You had just finished giving your statement to the police. The neighbors surrounding the house you were trapped in had come outside to see what the commotion was all about. You felt pinned by a million unasked questions, unsaid accusations, prying eyes. You were going to be sick. 

“Hey.” You looked up. Bakugo stood in front of you, rubbing feeling back into his previously paralized arm. He jerked his head to the side slightly. You scooted over and he sat next to you, pulling the blanket over his shoulders too. “So,” he said. 

“So,” You echoed. 

“The police called my parents,” He said after a moment of silence. “Mom’s coming to pick us up. She said she can bring some extra clothes for you to change into, if you want. Dad’s making up the guest room.” 

“What?” 

He gave you a sideways look. “What, you think I’m letting you stay alone in that house after what happened tonight? You think I’m an idiot or something?” He put his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. He spoke into your hair. “You’re staying with me and my folks until your parents get back. Then I’m going to chew them out for leaving you alone for so long, and maybe then we’ll see if you can go back there.” 

You giggled at his statement, half out of frazzled nerves and half out of love of his protective nature. You curled your fingers into his t-shirt, resting your head against his shoulder. “That sounds nice,” You mumbled, exhaustion and worn out adrenaline finally taking hold of your body. “It sure would make walking home easier.” Just before slipping under, you leaned up and kissed his cheek. “My hero.” 

He pressed a kiss on the top of your sleeping head. “Always.” 

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Heaven is Here

SYNOPSIS: Through many fleeting moments throughout history with a strange woman, Aziraphale and Crowley learn they accidentally trapped a human soul to Earth, stuck to reincarnate forever.

TAGS: Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader, fluff, slight angst, soulmate au (on accident), history, historical settings, no beta we die like men

WORD COUNT : 12,253

A/N: This fic is kind of accidental. I’ve always been more about Aziraphale/Crowley in this fandom than any reader insert, but one day I happened upon a Tumblr fanfic and had an idea. This probably won’t be a regular thing - except I am planning a sequel to this exact fic - but I thought why not. Im still more Aziraphale/Crowley.

55BC—————

"And you love this?" Crowley asked, holding the seafood up to the light as though it would reveal to Aziraphale all the disgusting little details.

"It's delightful!" Aziraphale insisted, showing Crowley how to eat the oyster. "Try it, dearest. You might just enjoy it."

Crowley pursed his lips, not wanting to put whatever the hell this was in his mouth. But Aziraphale was looking at him with those eyes. He didn't know how describe them, and he didn't want to analyze how they made his heart hurt inside his vessel's chest. So he closed his eyes and ate the damned thing.

He put a hand over his mouth to stop the gagging. This Angel's taste was not quite normal if this is what he considered fine dining. He tried to smile politely, to not let him know that it was utter horseshit.

"You don't like it," Aziraphale said with a rather disappointed voice.

"N-No, I don't," Crowley said, and he didn't know why but he was sad to disappoint the angel. He was just trying to be kind after all, it wasn't as though he had properly sinned. But why would a demon feel bad for an angel? That went against his lot's whole thing.

However, Crowley found a wicked part of him that liked pissing off his lot. He'd never put it in as many words however.

"Pity, they are quite delectable."

"Sure, angel," Crowley said, sipping a large mouthful of wine. They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, eating and drinking as they'd like. Then Crowley looked up to Aziraphale's soft "ahem." He was pointing behind Crowley, and when he turned he saw what caused it.

A young woman was sat in the corner, a large glass of wine in her hands, and she was weeping to herself. It wasn't loud or particularly noticeable, if it wasn't for the tear tracks down her cheeks, glittering as they caught the light. She was looking at her lap and sipping the wine, balking at the taste yet coming back for more.

"She looks happy," Crowley said.

"She looks sad! You demons need to learn the proper emotions."

Crowley stared at Aziraphale for a moment, wondering if he was joking. Upon realizing that Aziraphale was, in fact, not joking Crowley said, "that was sarcasm, Angel."

"What was sarcasm?"

"My comment, 'she looks happy.' Of course she doesn't look happy that's why I said it."

Aziraphale furrowed his brows, "but your words meant the opposite of what you said."

"Exactly," Crowley said. And with a flourish he added, "it's called sarcasm."

"But why say something you don't mean? Isn't that lying?" Aziraphale asked, in all sincerity.

Crowley thought it over, "s'pose it could be seen that way. Most people view it as ironic."

"Oh, yes, of course." Aziraphale took an anxious sip of wine, looking back towards the girl.

"Angel..."

"Yes?" He was avoiding eye contact

"You don't know what ironic means, do you?"

Aziraphale pouted, "no I don't and I quite detest that you do."

"Ironic literally means saying the opposite of what you mean for some sort of point. Mine being that she looks downright miserable."

"Even though you said she looks happy." Aziraphale said slowly as he tracked that line of logic through his head.

"Right, even though I said she looks happy."

"And that's ironic?"

"Don't ya think?" Crowley said with a wide smile, his teeth appearing almost like he had pointed fangs.

"Why yes I do think-"

"Angel, that was irony."

"Oh." Aziraphale blinked rapidly a few times then sipped his wine, embarrassed he didn't know something that Crowley did know. He thought he was the knowledgeable of the two. "Well, sarcasm or not, we should help her."

"We?"

"Why - yes, we're both here and we see -"

"I don't help people," Crowley said quickly, his voice deep and harsh. "I'm a demon, I do the opposite of help."

"Well, yes but-"

"There are no buts with this. My lot were created to ruin your lots pickings. I pillage and plunder, that's my job." Crowley said this firmly as though it would make his point clearer. The more intense he was, the more his words seemed to slur together a bit.

Aziraphale paused for a moment, and Crowley wondered if he was about argue his point once more. "Isn't the phrase rape, pillage and plunder?"

"I don't do that. I'm not a monster," Crowley balked. He finished his wine and set the glass down. Throwing some money on the table he said, "sorry Angel. Got a priest to tempt. Catch you later."

"Oh, goodbye." Aziraphale said as Crowley ambled off through the restaurants doors. But despite himself, Aziraphale found himself smiling. Crowley wasn't truly all bad, even if he thought himself it. His gaze at the doors quickly moved over to the pretty girl weeping. She was still crying and her glass was a lot emptied.

Aziraphale got up, straightened his toga, and walked over to the girl. "Oh, um, hello. I'm -" oh shoot, he hadn't thought of this part yet. He had to quickly think of a name. Instantly his eyes shot up to the art above her, a fleece. Aha! "Jason. My name is Jason. Pardon the intrusion, but I couldn't help but notice you're upset."

She sniffled, setting the glass down on the table. Aziraphale was struck by her face, now that he could see it not turned down and hidden. She was pretty. She eyed him warily, "Yeah, what's it to you?"

Aziraphale sat down on the chair opposite her, "I wondered if I might be able to help."

She laughed bitterly, "only if you can stop the Emperor." Aziraphale's eyebrows raised at that and she rushed to cover for herself, "oh no, I didn't mean that. All Hail the Caesar and what not. He's doing a mighty fine job."

"It's certainly not a 'mighty fine job' if he's got you crying as such."

"No, I s'pose not."

"What can I do for you?"

"Nothing," she said honestly, wiping the tears away quickly. "Honestly, Jason, I appreciate the thought but what's done is done. You can't change the past."

Aziraphale made a face in slight disagreement, though he knew he couldn't explain that to a human female. "Then perhaps telling someone will make you feel better. I harbor no connection with the Emperor, your opinions are quite safe with me."

She stared up at him after he said this, looking him truly in the eyes as though they told her all she needed to know. Then she did speak. "It's this invasion on Britain. My father and brother were both sent off and I worry. I've heard horrible things about the natives, truly barbaric things like removing of one's head. I don't want them to be hurt. Especially my brother, he's so sweet. He could get hurt by the army rather the natives."

"Hurt by his own army?"

"He doesn't stand up for himself. And that lot can be harsh. I s'pose I shouldn't blame them, I'd be harsh too if I had to kill people in battle. But I worry they will pick on him, push him 'round to try and get him to fight, and he won't."

"Ah, I see," Aziraphale said, rolling his tongue in his mouth as he thought it over. "Well, I can assure you one thing. The natives are not unnecessarily cruel. They do fight, but only when they need to. You couldn't expect anything less, dear."

She nodded, biting her lip. "No, you're correct. I'd defend my country against invaders as well."

"But they won't torture. Your brother will be quite alright, I'm sure of it."

After a minute of silence she looked up again at Aziraphale, "Thank you, Jason. Strangely enough, that makes me feel better. Knowing it wouldn't be torture."

"No, it wouldn't be."

"I really should be going, my daughter will be expecting me."

"Right, of course. Blessings on you, my dear." And though he'd already said the blessing, he felt compelled to say it again. To strengthen it for this poor soul. "Blessings on you forever."

Aziraphale helped her out of her seat. Just then, for an imperceivable second, Aziraphale thought he saw a golden shine cross her eyes. He didn't think much of it, figured it was the miracle. He'd never seen that happen, but he wasn't often looking in their eyes.

She took his hand, kissed the back of it, and thanked him again before walking out. Aziraphale smiled contentedly, though he felt a pull in his heart he hadn't felt before. Urging him to follow her, but he figured it was some sort of indigestion.

Crowley was sprawled on a bench not far from the restaurant, glancing up at a night time sky he couldn't see. He wanted to see it, but he gave up on that dream 2,000 years ago. The Fall took many things, and his eyesight was one of them. He could still see in general, he knew what people's faces looked like and where he was going. But specifics were lost on him, and the night looked like eternal darkness rather than the sparkling stars and planets he'd been told about.

"I helped create some of those," he mumbled to himself.

Then he closed his eyes, needing to not look at what he couldn't see. It still hurt, as though the wound wasn't thousands of years old. But it never properly healed in the first place.

He felt a weight against his foot and heard a thud within a matter of seconds, and he blinked in surprise. At his feet, a young woman was crumpled to the ground. His foot was sticking out in the pathway. Whoops.

He thought about rising to help her, then thought better of it. Beelzebub didn't need another reason to hate him. So he sat still and watched the woman get onto her hands and knees, glaring at him.

"Not going to help are you?"

"No, I think I'm keen to just watch," Crowley responded. She rolled her eyes, getting onto her feet and dusting off her toga. He examined her quickly, not knowing what to make of her. Then, she said something entirely unexpected.

"Keep your foot out of the way, asshole."

It wasn't a particularly inspired remark, nothing witty or threatening. But it was the fact that a random woman said that to him, a demon, without prompting. And with that remark, she walked away.

"Damnation on you eternally," Crowley murmured, waving his hand in a flourish towards the woman. He doesn't know why he said it, he's never really said it like that before and he certainly didn't why he even added the 'eternally' bit. But whatever the reason, he said it.

Though he knew she was too far away to hear him, she turned and looked back. And found a brief moment, maybe it was the trick of the light, he saw a golden shine pass over her eyes. She smirked shyly, then turned and walked away. And with each step, Crowley felt his heart pulse in a way he hadn't felt before.

1377—————

There was complete silence in the cathedral as a young boy, only aged 10 and dressed in trousers, walked through the crowd towards the priest. They seemed to hold their breaths as he lay on the floor before God, surrendering himself to Her mercy. Aziraphale watched the coronation. He had mixed feelings about the child, Richard. He wasn't a particular fan of the whole 'king' concept, but he thought the honoring to God bit was a nice touch. He wore simple enough clothes to note stand out, yet nice to enough to be recognized as a noble. His layers were in varying degrees of beige as he hid in the very middle of the crowd.

After the 10 minutes on the floor, Richard rose and made his way to the priest where he was being dressed in oil.

"Bit like a salad, eh?" A sultry, baritone voice said from beside Aziraphale, making him shudder. When he looked, it was Crowley. Dressed in similarly simple noble clothes, of course in tones of black and red, he watched the young king as different body parts were coated in oil for different purposes.

"Crowley? How did you get in here? It's a church?" Aziraphale said in a hushed whisper, earning glares from the people beside him. "Sorry Lord Wellington."

"Churches are built by humans."

"And what does that have to do with anything? You're still a demon in a place of worship for God," he said the word 'demon' especially softly for fear someone would turn in a panic at the word 'demon' being said in a cathedral.

"Yeah but it wasn't made by God. It was made for Her, by humans. Totally human structure."

"It is not."

Crowley shrugged his shoulders, "you got a better reason I can come and go in these?"

Aziraphale pursed his lips, "I suppose not."

A loud smack echoed through the church and Crowley frowned, "you made me miss the slap, Angel."

"That is your concern?"

Crowley shook his head in frustration, "He's a bloody king now, last time he coulda gotten hit and it's by a priest. S'course I wanted to see it."

"He's a child."

"Not anymore. He's got too much to think about now to be a child."

"No," Aziraphale wondered. "I suppose he's not longer a child at all. You know, dearest, you really do have the grandest thoughts when you think about it."

"Shut up," Crowley replied, his cheeks turning rosy at the compliment.

Within seconds of him saying it, the priest placed the crown on top of boy's head and declared loudly, "Long Live King Richard II!"

The crowd burst into applause as the young king was carried through the cathedral. They whooped and hollered, crying "all hail" and "god save the king" as he passed them by. The boy looked cheerful, pink cheeks and bright curls waving underneath a crown that looked awful heavy for a boy his age. But no, Aziraphale thought, perhaps this was the end of his childhood after all.

"Are you attending the feast afterwards? I hear they will serve beef, and I haven't have beef in decades!"

"Ahh, well I don't know, Angel."

Aziraphale smiled, leaning in as though he was sharing a conspiratorial secret, "I hear there are miraculously two spots for a Lord Fell and Mr Fell, if you are so inclined."

Crowley's eyebrows shot up, eyes hidden beneath his favorite pair of sunglasses, "oh you devil!"

Aziraphale's smile dropped, "don't you say that."

There was a pause as Aziraphale processed the hurtful words, and Crowley processed that he actually cared to make it right to him. Then all at once, they both started speaking on the issue, words overlapping in a frightful mess.

Crowley sighed, "Right I'm sorry -"

"- that really hurts -"

"- I know, I know -"

"- I mean, I am most certainly not fallen -"

"-we had this conversation in 1066 -"

" - I did not appreciate that."

" -I know, Angel. I'm sorry."

After that final note, Aziraphale nodded. "Alright, well. Thank you."

They started to walk together towards the banquet hall not far from there, waiting to indulge in fine wines and beef. There was a large parade towards it, all the nobles and even those fortunate peasants engaged in laughing and singing. Jesters performed stupid dances in their funny hats, knights marched in perfect unison, and songs came pouring from every lute and voice in the area. It was a perfect celebration of a new king, all on their way to fall victim to gluttony, drunkenness, lust, greed and infinitely more temptations.

All things that should fill Crowley's heart with a miserable sort of glee. And yet... he felt off. Crowley couldn't explain the feeling in his chest, almost like a nagging telling him things weren't right. But all this temptation, he thought. This ought to be perfect! But it wasn't, and he had a feeling before he even glanced at his Angel that it was because of him.

Sure enough, he was right. Though Aziraphale hadn't said anything, being kind enough to accept Crowley's words at face value and dropping it, but Crowley knew him well enough to know something was wrong. He hadn't made it up to him.

"Angel, a word -" Crowley said, grabbing Aziraphale's elbow and leading him away from the crowd. As he did so, he missed the way Aziraphale's mouth dropped open, blue eyes fixated on the contact. They'd rarely touched before.

"Yes, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked politely but his tone was full of too much passive aggression to really be polite. He stood stock still, arms poised in front of him and looked expectedly at Crowley.

"I- I, I need to..." Satan this was hard. The words felt like glue in Crowley's mouth but he did his best to force them out. "I need to, to s'make it up to you."

"Pardon?"

Oh damn Aziraphale, making Crowley actually communicate. "What I said, I was wrong. You were right. It wasn't right of me and I need to make it because my apology isn't enough."

"I never said that."

"Ah, yeah, you never said it. But you's do this thing with your face when you's upset. And my words aren't getting there. Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

They waited a moment, staring at one another. Suddenly, a large crash came from parade and the two looked over in surprise. The musicians were playing a long, one very eager man slamming the cymbals that caused such a loud sound. Behind them another jester bobbled along a delicate little dance, flourishing his arms on either side before turning and doing a bow.

Crowley saw Aziraphale's eyebrows raise, the corner of his cute little mouth twitch up and a finger pointed towards the little dance. He ran to stop it, saying, "no, no, no, I'm not doing that."

"Come now-"

"A dance? You want an 'I was wrong, You were right dance'? You can't be serious, Angel."

"I am serious, you wily serpent. Now do the little dance or I'll never forgive you," Aziraphale said in mock frustration, puffing out his chest.

Crowley saw before him a choice, between what his lot were bound to and Aziraphale. And without a second thought, he chose Aziraphale. He would choose Aziraphale every time, he just didn't know it yet. And so, despite all the humiliation he knew this would cause him if the bosses down under ever found out, Crowley did the little dance.

Aziraphale watched, eyebrows raised in shock. He hadn't thought Crowley would do it. Certainly not for him. But as Crowley bowed, enunciating his t's with a flourish, he couldn't help but smile.

"Very nice."

"Are we good, now?"

Aziraphale beamed, "quite right, dearest. We are quite right."

Crowley let out a breath, adjusting his glasses as though they would hide that dance from history's books. "Well then, let's get a move on."

The pair followed the parade into the banquet hall, and continued with the affair. Aziraphale literally wiggled in his seat when the food was placed before him, so excited he couldn't sit still. Crowley drank the wine, actually quite good for English wine.

Then the dancing started. King Richard - now Richard II - climbed on top of the table and proclaimed everyone to dance. And so, the nobles in their fancy gowns, drunk and laughing to no end, jumped from their seats to join in the dance. Aziraphale sat still for a moment, not knowing what he should do. Angels don't dance, not really. But this Angel longed to dance.

Crowley saw the way his fingers tapped along the table to the beat. He groaned, getting up from his seat.

"S'alright Angel, up up."

"Pardon -"

"You heard what I said. Come on Angel, let's dance."

Aziraphale giggled and got up, following Crowley into the chaos of swirling dresses and flirtatious looks between anyone and everyone. Almost immediately they were separated, swung by different partners.

Crowley danced with an older woman who squeezed his buttocks when she thought he wasn't looking. He wasn't fond of dancing, not the way Aziraphale was, but he enjoyed the freedom of it all. There were no rules, not really. Yes some people liked the structured ones where you pose and turn on every 3rd beat or what not. But in dancing there was an air of just living - being truly alive. That's what it was all about, it's all anyone yearned to feel.

In the next turn to switch partners, time seemed to slow for Crowley. He saw her, flitting between the people to slide her arm into Crowley's and continue the dance. She was pretty in an unconventional way. A way society might not call beautiful, but made Crowley stop and stare. He was pulled towards her, as though he couldn't control it. She was the center of his focus and he wanted nothing more than to meet her. Then, she turned that pretty gaze on him. Her lips quirked into a smile, hands warm and soft as they held his tightly. Her skin was flushed from the dance, and her dress swung around her in bright, dashing colors. The last dance had ended and all the people were gasping for air yet still ready to dive into the next.

"Hello," she said softly, though somehow he heard her voice over the crowd.

"Hello," Crowley answered back, not sure what to do. He'd never been in this position before.

"A dance?" She asked, taking a deep bow before holding her hand out. Palm up. She wore one, golden signet ring.

"I'd love to," Crowley answered honestly, taking her hand and pulling her into him.

She giggled happily, throwing an arm around his neck as he led the pair towards the center of the dance floor. He started to laugh along with her. Their dancing wasn't particularly good, both of them knew that, but they were having fun. She would twirl away only to twirl back into him awkwardly, laughing so hard she snorted which only caused a barking laughter from Crowley. They continued forward, holding each other close until the final pull drew them chest to chest. She was shorter than he, and she glanced up through dark lashes.

"Hi," she murmured, her breath hitting Crowley's face. She smelled of wine and temptation. He looked into her eyes and there it was - that one moment in history he thought was a fluke.

It had been 1,432 years, not like he was counting, but he didn't forget the way the golden band seemed to fleet over her eyes back in 55BC. And now, he saw that same golden shine slide over the same pair of eyes. It was just a second and yet it made Crowley's mouth drop. She saw it too, but for different reasons. He watched as she looked at his lips, he could tell what she was thinking.

She went to lean in, breasts pressed against his chest and breath hot, but was ripped away by the next dance. She giggled wildly as she was pulled into a circle, but found herself glancing over her shoulder to stare at the handsome stranger she almost kissed.

As Crowley stood in the middle of the floor, mystified, Aziraphale went over to his table to get a drink. All this dancing was positively amazing, but it certainly drained one of their energy.

As he brought the cup to his lips, a body crashed into his, sending the crimson liquid all over his clothes.

"Oh, bugger," he said, setting the cup down to assess the damage.

"I am so sorry, sir!" A girl said, breathless as she ran over. "That was entirely my fault. Please, let me help you clean it. I'm sure there's a tub not far."

Aziraphale smiled politely and went to decline the kind offer, but when he looked into her eyes he found himself agreeing to go with her. She lit up with excitement, grabbing his hand and pulling him away. There was something about her, something he couldn't explain. But he was in awe of her movements and eager to learn more about her.

She turned into an empty hall near a bathroom. She had him wait here while she collected a basin of water and grease.

"I can't promise it will fully work," she said as she set it down, "but I'll do my best. I really am so sorry, sir. I would have never ruined your clothes intentionally."

"It's quite alright. They weren't my favorite anyway," he said as he removed the outer layer. His multiple layers undergarments were fine, and could suffer slight staining. It was the outer garment that changed the most.

She shook her head as she dunked it in the basin, "you can't mean that, sir."

"I find that I quite do," he said, watching her with a quite awe.

"What's your name, sir? I feel I've seen you before," she said, suddenly watching him with the same astute attention. She kept narrowing her eyes as though she'd remember.

Maybe it was the stain, the wine, the party, the demon nearby, or maybe it was just this woman that did it to him but without realizing, he answered honestly, "Aziraphale."

Her eyes lit up, "like the Angel?"

"Precisely, my dear."

"That's a beautiful name. Aziraphale, Aziraphale... can you believe it?" She mumbled the last bit to herself, rubbing liberal amounts of grease into the fabric.

"Do you have a connection to the name? Or the Angel, perhaps?" Aziraphale asked curiously, wanting to hear more about her.

"I do, strangely enough. It's a silly connection..." she said, absentmindedly turning the signet ring over and over on her hand.

"I rather find that when it comes to angels and demons, nothing is silly." Aziraphale chose to neglect some of the more strange decisions the staff had made.

"I, well, oh goodness it sounds all made up. Well, I was in the shops the other day. My friend makes jewelry and he's very good. I came by and he said a man dropped off this gold signet ring with the name Aziraphale burned into it. Said he didn't know what to do with it, not many people knows the Angel, and he gave it to me." She took the ring off her finger, staring at it with an admiration before holding it out to him. "It's your name. You should have it."

"Oh I couldn't possibly take from you, dear."

She shook her head, "no it's not taking. It's a gift. It's fate, that I should have a ring for an Aziraphale just before meeting one of my very own."

"Oh dear, I couldn't -"

She interrupted him by pressing a soft kiss to the ring, taking his hand and sliding it onto his pinky finger. When she looked up, still holding his hand, Aziraphale's jaw dropped. That golden shine. Where had he seen that before? It was brief, flashing over a pair of kind eyes, but it was there all the same.

"Please accept this, Aziraphale."

"I - I will. Thank you, my dear."

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale saw her after that night. They didn't know her name, her status, or even really remember her outfit. If Cinderella was around, she would have been the prime candidate for it. Neither told each other about their experience with a strange woman until 150 years later as they talked about Henry VIII's decision to have Anne Boleyn beheaded. Nasty business that was.

1601—————

"He's really quite good," Aziraphale said, watching fondly as the actor of Hamlet lamented about life and death. It really was moving the way he toyed between truly living a life, or if death was not truly what life was about.

Aziraphale found himself doing that 'excited sigh' that Crowley described. He found it an odd way of saying his behaviors, but Crowley insisted that when Aziraphale was excited it wasn't a 'satisfied sigh' but an 'excited sigh.' To be fair, he'd said this after 2 whole bottles of wine and a shot of pure vodka, so Aziraphale couldn't grant its true authenticity. A drunk demon would truly say anything just to illicit a reaction.

The speech made him wonder what it was like to be a human, with no certainty about what happens with their souls. They don't have a guarantee about life, or death, and yet are expected to do as they are told with no questions. Crowley knew what it was like to ask questions, and it lead to scars even Aziraphale didn't know about.

"Ngk, s'pose so." Crowley grumbled, watching as the man stamped his foot on the stage. "Bit dramatic, no?"

"It'd a tragedy!" Aziraphale countered, furrowing his brows in surprise.

"Eh, I still prefer the funny ones."

Aziraphale shook his head, turning to watch the man on the stage. A flash of purple fabric caught his eye, and his gaze traveled to see a young woman peaking out from behind the railing. She was trying to stay hidden, but Aziraphale could see that she just couldn't resist the temptation to watch the rehearsal. Her eyes were bright and wide, soaking in the sight. Her clothes were dirty and well worn, a few sizes too big and the hem covered in a layer of mud. But despite it all, she looked entirely unique.

She was pretty, and Aziraphale didn't often feel as though many humans were pretty. He appreciated the art of humanity, and believed each human was their own work of art. But he didn't feel a pull to any of them, but her... she had an attraction to her. He could see her lean too far over the edge, as though the stage were dragging her in. It wasn't just a love and an admiration, it was an addiction. Aziraphale could see what was going to happen moments before it did, but it was too late. The girl tumbled over the edge and fell onto the floor of the Globe, catching the attention of everybody in the rehearsal space.

Her cheeks immediately blotted pink, covering her face in a rosy hue as the stage manager came to her with a snarl, "oi, who're you?"

"I-I-"

"You's not supposed to be 'ere," he said, grabbing her roughly by the arm and dragging her to her feet. She stumbled along as he pulled her to the entrance. "Out with you."

"Mary? Whatcha doin here?" Crowley called out, sauntering over to the man and the girl. The man stopped, looking at Crowley with a skeptical gaze. The girl's eyes widened, bright and eager, as she realized what Crowley was doing and she nodded vigorously.

"Yes, sir, I came to fetch you! Mistress Paulson requested you." She said quickly, trying to stand on her own despite the stage manager's tight grasp.

The man cocked an eyebrow, "oh yeah? You know's him?"

"Know me? Know me?" Crowley sauntered over with a cackle, "me's and Mary goes way back."

She nodded, ripping her arm from the man's grasp then standing politely. "Oh yes, Mr..."

"Oh don't bother with all the Mr Crowley Miss whatever business, just call me Anthony like any other bloke."

"Anthony has helped my sister much. He's an excellent doctor," she said, standing firm. Aziraphale watched her in awe, he was impressed. She picked up that Crowley was saving her quickly, easing into the lie with an expert comfort. She seemed familiar, as though they'd met her before. And most importantly, she was intelligent.

"Doctor? You didn't mention that about your friend," the man said to Aziraphale, his enunciation so poor he practically spat the words at Aziraphale's feet.

Aziraphale flashed a charming smile, "I hadn't realized that those particular skills would, uh, come up in a theatre of this, err,... caliber."

"I haven't the pleasure of meeting you, sir." The girl piped up, her smile was warm and gentle. But he could see in her eyes a tension, wanting to convince this man to not throw her out or worse - press charges. "My's names Mary Edwins. Friend of Mr Crowley."

Mary Edwins, clearly a fake name. Just basic enough to be believable, but enough slight hesitation that Aziraphale knew she was lying. She gave a little curtesy, spreading the oversized purple skirt over the floor. It really was too large, but she still looked charming. Aziraphale felt as though he'd seen that curtesy before. There it was, fast you could have blamed the lighting, Aziraphale knew better. There that same golden shine came over her eyes, if just for a moment. His mouth fell open in a little 'o,' unable to speak for a while 10 seconds before stuttering out, "oh, h-hello Miss Edwins, I'm Mr Fell."

The stage manager thought on it for a moment, before deciding that he wasn't paid enough to care. It was hours away from opening night, after all, and the little boy playing Ophelia needed alterations in his costume.

"Alright then," he said, walking back towards the director, a Mr William Shakespeare.

The girl was still a few feet away as Crowley walked dramatically back towards Aziraphale. The Angel tried to ignore it. He hadn't mentioned that part of it with Crowley, and he didn't know how to continue. Crowley mistook Aziraphale's expression as one of angelic smugness and rose a finger, "shut it, Angel."

"That was a good thing you did," he said with a little smile. He pushed it to the back of his mind, something to worry about when it was late and the city was asleep.

"Twasn't good, no. I was, real, I - I - I was bad. I let a criminal get away."

Aziraphale patted Crowley's shoulder, "no, dearest. You let a woman enjoy her passion. Look at her, you've saved her."

The pair glanced over at her as she tried, and failed, to subtly watch the actors get ready for their next scene. Her hand was on her heart, as though if she didn't put it there her heart would pop right out.

"Ehhh, that's not saving. Not really."

"Oh, it's not? Then what would you say is a human's purpose?" Aziraphale asked with a soft voice.

"I thought that's your job, Angel. Praising God and what not."

Aziraphale pursed his lips, looking away from Crowley. "You know as well as I that love of God is not all humans were made for. I am of the firm opinion they are here for their passions. They survive by it. They might be able to live with food and water alone, but no soul could truly exist without their drive. And this woman, her passion is theatre."

"Rather blasphemous words from an Angel."

"Rather kind actions from a demon."

Aziraphale smiled, looking towards the stage. Crowley tried to hide the blush on his ears and cheeks. It was always his ears that turned bright red from, from, well he didn't quite know from what. But he felt the heat and looked away. He looked at the girl, who perked your once she realized he saw her. She went over shyly.

Despite her apprehension, she raised her voice enough to say, "thank you for your help, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."

"Mmm," was Crowley reply, gazing around the globe with a distinguished air about him. As if he was the most important person in the room. He tried to ignore her presence. She had a pull to her and he couldn't explain it, didn't want to address it. He already had the issue of a certain Angel who wouldn't leave his mind.

"Who are we to stop the love of the arts?" Aziraphale said, rather eccentrically. "Though you could have waited a few hours to see the whole show."

"I can't afford it," she said quietly, staring at her feet. Aziraphale noted her sweet little boots, their pointed ends digging into the dirt out of anxiety. "My mistress only gave me the morning. I need to be back in an hour."

Crowley and Aziraphale shot a glance with one another, not quite knowing how to respond. They stood in silence, the girl's eyes wide as she drank in Ophelia's mad lullabies.

"What's your name?"

"Mary Edwins."

Crowley smiled, "nice try, love. Your real name."

She cocked an eyebrow, glancing up at first at Crowley, then at Aziraphale, before looking back at her reflection in his sunglasses. "Why do you want to know?"

"We did help you, dear. We'd just love to know you, but if you cannot tell us, we won't rush you."

"Are you two a couple?" She asked quickly, pointing at the two and waving her hands in some strange, gesture of coupling. Her choice of question was so drastic, they didn't bother to notice the intentional diversion in topics.

Aziraphale looked up, mouth dropping in a little 'o' and he looked at Crowley. Crowley lifted a brow. Aziraphale answered, "We've known each other for a long time."

"That doesn't answer my question, Mr Fell."

"Aren't you a sly one, Miss Edwins." Crowley sneered, his top lip recoiling.

She just smiled, shrugging her shoulders with a little giggle. "Suppose so, Mr Crowley."

The golden shine. Crowley sucked in a harsh breath as she turned to look back at the stage. He could practically hear all his thoughts as they raced through his head, and he was unable to settle on just one. Those eyes. He hadn't seen them in years and yet this was the third woman who just happened to flirt with him, and had a gold shine go across her eyes. He reckoned she didn't know it happened, she probably didn't know what those little eyes could do to an immortal creature. Crowley swallowed, praying she never had to.

Then, the show continued and 'Mary's' eyes seemed transfixed. Aziraphale loved the theatre, Crowley enjoyed it, but 'Mary' adored it.

Crowley watched her eagerly, partly out of curiosity and partly because he liked feeling her passion in his soul as though it was her own. He found himself attracted to it, a drag of one's purpose. The passion filled her up, and she seemed to want to lean into it. She gasped as Hamlet killed his mother, she listened with eager ears as he instructed the actors on how they were to act, she cried as it seemed that everyone fell to the floor in a miserable death. Then, it was over. Actors stumbled to their feet, laughing as though they weren't stabbed with poisoned rapiers. The story was over, but 'Mary' seemed to be in a daze. Crowley watched with shrewd, yet eager eyes as she came out of it.

Then she straightened her back, smiling tightly to both of them. "Mr Fell, Mr Crowley, thank you for letting me stay. It has been such a gift. I'm afraid I must go."

"Let us escort you home," Aziraphale said, without realizing what he was offering.

She blinked wide eyes, "there's no need, sir. It's two blocks away."

Crowley lifted his chin, "love, we'd like to see you off safe."

"If you insist. Though I must tell you it's entirely through the city. Eyes will be on you at all times," she said it as a threat, a reminder to not do anything unsavory. Crowley almost frowned at that little bit of false hope. If they actually had bad intentions, a crowd wouldn't stop anything. She wasn't truly safe. But both Crowley and Aziraphale nodded, as though they truly headed her warning.

"Was that your first Shakespeare production?" Aziraphale asked, making polite conversation as he walked on one side of her, Crowley on the other.

"Oh, no. I do my best to attend all of them. I tend to prefer the funny ones, but the crowds can be a bit much for me."

"Eh? What'd you mean by that?" Crowley asked.

She blushed, "I don't like when crowds get very loud. They tend to jeer and toss things at the actors. It doesn't feel safe for anyone. I do enjoy his dramas though."

They walked in companionable silence for a moment before she asked the next question, "what do you two do? If I may, you're dressed rather odd."

"Odd?" Crowley asked with a frown, gazing down at his outfit. He was quite proud of this outfit. The ruff was amazing, really helped one feel confident.

'Mary' giggled. "I don't dislike your outfits, you just don't see these colors often."

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance, shifting in their outfits. Perhaps they do cling to their colors a bit much. But Aziraphale never felt it was a problem, he was proud of his wardrobe.

"I make my own clothes," Aziraphale said with a smile.

'Mary' lightened up, her eyes taking on a bright, sparkling quality before she actually smiled, a little tell that Aziraphale noticed. He'd seen that before, but couldn't place it. "That is quite wonderful, Mr Fell. I'd love to make my own, however I mostly sew for my mistress."

"You make her clothes?"

"Oh no, I tend to mend them."

The conversation lulled again, and Crowley bit his lip as he thought before asking the question that has been on his tongue since the play ended, "why do you love theatre so much?"

Her chest flared, her eyes wide and sparkling, and she could barely contain the words before they poured from her in excited spurts, "what's not to love? It's stories about being human wrapped up in fancy costumes and dramatic voices. It's full of stories that seem so outrageous yet we still find our way to connect. Isn't it just fascinating that you could watch a show about a man, driven mad by jealousy caused by a deceiving friend, murdering his wife and leave full of emotions? You'd think you'd be mad at the murderer, condemning him for killing his love. And yet, there's more to it than that. You can't quite hate Othello, but you can't love him either. It's so hard to explain what it is to be human, there's no word or sentence to explain it. It can be so isolating. But these stories can give us insight. I, sorry, I'm rambling," she said, taking a wistful sigh.

"Stories can be found anywhere, dear. Books, especially," Aziraphale noted. He enjoyed hearing her speak with such fire. In the back of his mind, he felt as though he could recall someone else talking about their love of stories, but he couldn't place it.

She nodded, smiling. "Yes, of course. And I adore books too. It's just... theatre is such a temporary art. Those moments on stage, or watching, could never be recreated, it could never be exactly as it was. And that's what made it so beautifully tragic. You are stuck with a slightly different story each night, with different takeaways."

"What a beautiful takeaway," Aziraphale said, watching her with a slight sort of awe.

She blushed, "I'm hardly unique in that way."

"Ngk," Crowley mumbled in disagreement, though he didn't actually say a word. Yet, she seemed to still understand what he was trying to say and blushed all the same.

As they walked, Crowley took off his sunglasses for a moment to wipe his eyes. He seemed to forget that his were unusual, yellow and with a snake like slit as a pupil.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"M'yeah," Crowley answered, opening his eyes to look at her. After the initial realization he was seeing her without glasses, thus revealing the snake like eyes, he went to shove the sunglasses back on. But she wasn't looking unkindly at him.

Instead, she smiled widely, "they're beautiful."

"Wot?" He said in shock.

"Your eyes are beautiful, Mr Crowley." Then, as Crowley sputtered in surprise, she stopped in front of an expensive flat. "This is me mistress's. Thank you, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."

She looked both of them in the eyes as she said their names, and with equal kindness and appreciation. Then, she turned away and scampered around towards the servants entrance. Aziraphale waited until she was inside to blow out a breath.

"She was something," Crowley said.

"Yes, she was."

"I- angel, I could be wrong on this but didn't she feel-"

"Familiar?" Aziraphale finished for Crowley, looking down the alley as though she would magically reappear.

"Yes! It's so bloody weird," Crowley said, rubbing his hand along his jaw.

"Yes, weird," Aziraphale said, enunciating weird in an odd way that made Crowley furrow his brows. The two beings tried to shrug off this encounter, heading their separate ways for the time being.

1865—————

Aziraphale stared at Crowley as though he'd never seen him before, utterly gobsmacked. "I will not provide you that, that thing! It's suicide."

"Aw not for that Angel," Crowley groaned, waving his hand nonchalantly as though he hadn't asked for the one thing that would completely kill him. "Just for, err you know, protection."

"You are a demon, Crowley. The world would need protection from you."

Crowley tried to not let that sting. He'd never said as much to Aziraphale, but these last 200 years have really brought some perspective over what it is to be a demon. He found a weird sense of discomfort over the word demon. As though he were entirely bad because of what he was, and not what he does. But he'd never say it, or tell Aziraphale he accidentally rhymed.

"It's not like that, I just want to secure myself. That's all."

Aziraphale pursed his lips and looked away, not bearing the thought that his closest acquaintance would dare to think of something like that. It was simply not going to happen, Aziraphale refused to let that happen. Crowley was going to live forever, with Aziraphale, and he was going to do so happily. He'd never tell Crowley, of course, but Aziraphale didn't know if he could manage eternity without him.

"Oi! That can't have that!" Crowley said quickly, throwing himself off the bench and facing towards a woman standing by the river.

She turned to look at the, in her view, random man dressed in mourning garb barreling towards her and shouting in a thick accent. She clutched the loaf of bread close to her chest, eyeing him warily as he continued rambling.

"Bread's not good for 'em, it can - can - can cause diseases," he said once he got close to her.

She sucked in a breath. He was taller than he'd looked from afar, and she found herself staring at him. He was also quite handsome, with tanned skin and shocking bright red hair, curled away from his face. She noticed a pair of odd looking spectacles hiding his eyes, and a tattoo peaking out beneath his sideburns.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," she said breathlessly. She felt kind of stupid now, holding a loaf of bread as he stared at her with a passion for the ducks. A man dressed in all beige apparel came by quickly, standing by the other man's side. He looked kind, with bright blue eyes and plush pink lips she didn't even realize she'd taken note of.

"I'm terribly sorry for my friend's outburst," Aziraphale said to the woman, still looking shellshocked. "Though I'm afraid he is right, bread is not the best for them."

She looked down and stared at it. "Right, well I apologize. I hadn't been doing it long, if it's of any comfort."

Crowley grumbled but didn't say anything else, eyeing her with skepticism. After a pause where the three stood in silence, the woman tore the loaf into three sections. She then offered up a piece to each of the men, "better we eat it than them?"

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a glance, they hadn't expected this. Maybe it was the mood of St James's Park or the pull of this young girl, but they reached out to accept their proffered piece.

Just then a golden shine passed over her eyes. Both men's jaws dropped as they'd never shared of this particular detail of their stories, and had never experienced it together. And, for the first time, she seemed conscious of it too.

A hand went up to her cheeks just below her eyes, which had grown wide in surprise. "What was that?"

"Pardon?" Aziraphale asked in that slightly tense voice he had when he was covering up for something.

"The, my, my eyes. I was looking and then it went all - gold like."

"Oh I don't know about that," Aziraphale said.

She shook her head vehemently, pointing at the both of them. "Yours did too, and yours!"

"You saw our eyes shine gold?" Crowley asked shyly.

"Y-yes. I saw through your spectacles. The whole eye, it went gold -"

"It must have been a trick of the light, dearest. Eyes don't 'go gold.'"

She shook her head again, "no. I know what I saw. I, I think I'd better go. Thank you for the, the, the ducks."

"Wait-" "Don't go-" Aziraphale and Crowley started at the same time, but she'd already lifted her skirts so she could walk away as quickly as possible.

"She saw it this time," Crowley said, mouth open in surprise.

"This time? This time? You've had a girls eyes shine gold before?" Aziraphale asked, trying to ignore the way his heart ramped up at the news. Crowley felt it too, it wasn't all him.

"And by the sound of it, you have too."

"Yes, I have. But only thrice before, 55BC, 13-"

"-77 and 1601."

Aziraphale's blue eyes widened and he stared at Crowley in shock, "I- I, how did you know?"

"Same for me, Angel. Same for me."

"So she's connected then, to the both of us." Aziraphale said slowly, trying to work it all out in his head. Crowley nodded, pursing his lips and making a 'tsk' noise under his breath.

"She's looked different each time. I don't think she's an Angel or a demon," Crowley said, ripping off a small piece of the bread she gave him and tossing it into the water. No, it wasn't good for them but who cares at this point. They were eternally connected to something.

"No, I think you're quite right. She's something else entirely. I'll have to do some research, I'll let you know if I have anything of note."

Crowley swallows, "same 'ere."

"Okay. Well then, good afternoon to you," Aziraphale tipped his hat and wandered off back to his book shop, his head completely filled with ideas of shapeshifters and witches, all sorts of creatures.

Current Day—————

Crowley parked the Bentley outside Aziraphale's shop, the wheel a slight tap before getting out. It was cold today, and he saw dozens of people shuffling into Nina's shop for some warmth. He himself was freezing but he knew even slightly suggesting to Aziraphale would earn him some pampering, blanket tucked in, hot chocolate, and near undivided angelic attention. Normally he didn't like asking for it, but it's been a weird few years with the Armageddon't, and he could use some pampering.

He felt a pang in his chest, a strange sort of pull he didn't know what to do with. What did humans do when their hearts hurt? Then it struck him - he wasn't human. Why would his heart be hurting?

"Oi, you doing okay?" A voice said from the pavement outside Aziraphale's shop. Crowley looked up, surprised to see Nina with a bag full of ingredients.

"What're you doing out

She held up the bag with a raised brow, as though he was stupid to just suggest it, "you're alright then?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. But you haven't got other staff and the place's full."

"Oh, yeah, forgot you didn't know about that." Nina said dryly. "I hired a new barista. Name's Y/N. New to town."

There it was, that pull dragging him towards her shop. He couldn't explain, tried to rack his brain as to what would want him in there. He glanced back through the windows, trying to see if anything was amiss.

Each instance with her seemed to last for a second, barely enough to know if it was the truth or a trick of the light. But Crowley had lived long enough on enough stupid planets to know that when he saw something that wasn't typically there, it wasn't a figment of his imagination. He swallowed, trying to betray anything to Nina.

"Right. Well then, better get back to it," he said, moving past her shoving his way into Aziraphale's bookshop.

"Oh Crowley, wonderful you're here-"

"Yes, yes, I'm wonderful, you're wonderful, the world's bloody wonderful. Angel, do you remember in 1865 when we saw her in St James's Park?"

There wasn't a need to clarify who the 'her' was. Aziraphale straightened, removing his spectacles from his nose. "Yes, I do."

"And you remember when you said you'd research it and report back, but never did?"

"Yes, I do. Crowley-"

"I need that research now, Angel." Crowley said quickly, not letting Aziraphale ask more pointless questions.

"Nothing came of it, dear, that's why I'd never told you. We would have sensed if she was a witch, angel, demon, or anything other supernatural. We have those senses."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Crowley, what happened? What did you see?"

"She's here."

Aziraphale's eyebrows shot up and he placed a surprise hand on his chest, not quite knowing what to do with that information. "Here?!"

"In London. In the coffee shop, in Nina's coffee shop. I - I saw her. There was a golden thread between us. I know it's her, Angel. She looks different but she has every time. It's her."

"You saw a golden thread?"

"Yes."

Aziraphale put his spectacles back on, heading for one of his bookshelves towards the back of the shop, "are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, Angel, I'm bloody positive."

"A Golden thread has never shown up before. The previous times were all the, err, the eyes. This means something." Aziraphale said, gathering the dusty book from his shelf and depositing it on his desk with a thud. "In Greek mythology the golden thread was your life line. Your life thread so to speak. Fate, destiny, the whole nine yards."

"Yes, Angel, but the Greeks were wrong and that's how we exist so what does it mean for us?" Crowley grabbed a chair and fell into it, placing a frustrated hand on his temple.

Aziraphale thumbed through pages until he found what he was looking for. He read the words, but it only helped to scrunch his brow. "This doesn't make any sense. The threads only have two colors, two avenues."

"What do the threads mean, Angel?" His tone pained in frustration. This girl was scaring him, and he couldn't explain why. As far as he knew she presented no threat to him. And yet all the same, he feared her. He wasn't a fan of the unknown. Everything had been so planned out for so long, even though he didn't like the idea of the world ending it was a plan nonetheless.

"It says here that white thread is for eternal blessings. Saints and what not. Black thread for eternal damnation. But it only exists on a human while they are alive."

"Wot? I don't see black threads on people, d'you see white threads?"

Aziraphale adjusted his spectacles, "it says here they only appear if an Angel, or in your case, dearest, a demon, specifically bless them. Or, err, curse them."

"Still, you'd think 6,000 years and I woulda seen something."

Aziraphale nodded in agreement, "I've not seen any either."

"Wait, how'd you know about all this then?" Crowley waved a hand vaguely in between Aziraphale and the book.

Aziraphale looked confused for a moment, "all this? Oh, ah, you mean how I've come to know about the threads? Well it is to my understanding that this was brought up by Michael -"

"Head honcho Michael?" Crowley asked.

"Yes, though I wouldn't use such human terms myself. Michael had thought it up around 100BC. Thought it would be a fun way of identifying humans. But the upstairs didn't fancy the idea, She dispelled it not too long after."

"Hmm... never woulda pictured that out of Michael."

"Well, they say you never really know someone." Aziraphale replied, looking back over the pages as Crowley began to ramble.

"Always thought that applied to killers. No one ever says that 'bout the good deeds, they only say it after you've hurt someone. If someone's killed a kid, everyone's all up in arms like 'you never really knew 'em.' But if someone's a paramedic no one's like 'you never really know-'"

Aziraphale felt his jaw drop open as the words at the bottom of the page finally clicked. Part of the reason Michael's plan never worked, at least according to Gabriel, was that the wording was too specific. "No one uses 'eternally' in their everyday vocabulary," he had argued. Back then Aziraphale had quite agreed with Gabriel, but everyone agreed with Gabriel if it meant shutting Michael up. But he remembered a time not long before the thread idea was vanished when he had used the word 'eternally' in conversation. He reread to be sure, then piped up over Crowley's random complaining, "C-Crowley... do you remember what you said to her in 55BC?"

Crowley's face scrunched as he tried to think all the way back. "I, uh, tripped her. On accident, then she called me an asshole and I-I damned her for eternity I think."

"Oh dear."

"What does this 'oh dear' me? Angel?" When Aziraphale didn't say anything Crowley got up, stalking over to him quickly. "What did you see?"

"I blessed her for eternity."

"So? What's that mean?"

"I-I think, and I could be very very wrong, however I think that means we've, err, we've trapped her soul in an endless strain between Heaven and Hell."

"No, no, no, no," Crowley started to say, unconsciously pacing as he tried to unravel it all in his head. "That doesn't make any sense. Her thread is gold, white and black don't make gold. It makes grey, she should be grey!"

"I think the color of her thread is far from our biggest issue, Crowley."

"So, so what? She's trapped to us?"

Aziraphale ran a hand down his face, trying to process. "I- she might be."

"But her body's changed each time. It's not the same woman."

"Ah, but her eyes. They've stayed the same. You know as well as I do they're the same."

Crowley stopped, knowing he didn't have grounds to argue. Aziraphale was right, after all. Then he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Fucking hell-"

"Language," Aziraphale said with pursed lips.

"Wot? For the fucking or the hell part?" Crowley snapped, then upon seeing Aziraphale's dropped expression he immediately retracted. "I'm sorry. That was rude. You're not getting the stupid dance though. Angel, she's not immortal. Her soul is. She must just keep being, being reborn. But the soul from 55BC is still the same."

"That would make sense," Aziraphale said. "They do say the eyes are the window into the soul. Perhaps that explains why they remain while the rest of her can change."

"Yeah, yeah. It makes sense, don't it?"

"So we've accidentally trapped a human soul to Earth to live and die for eternity?"

"Yeah, yeah," Crowley sniffed. "Think we did, Angel."

There was a quiet pause as the two reflected on what they just realized. They, unwittingly, had created an immortal creature. She doesn't even know she's immortal, and by the past experience it sounds as if her mind is wiped with each death. But her soul lives on.

"Fuck," Aziraphale said quietly.

Crowley looked up sharply, "wot'd you say?"

"I said fuck." He repeated, with more confidence this time around.

On any normal circumstance, Crowley would laugh and cherish the moment he saw Aziraphale curse - and with fuck of all of them - but he couldn't help but think Aziraphale was right. Fuck, indeed.

"What do we do?" Crowley asked.

"We have to tell her."

"We do? Why's that? What d'ya think we're gonna say? Hi random stranger I'm a demon he's an Angel and your soul is stuck, here have a cuppa."

"Well that would be straightforward -"

"Sarcasm, Angel. You've been here for thousands of years and you still don't process sarcasm."

Aziraphale stood up and went over to Crowley, touching his shoulders so he'd look up to him. "I understand that this is difficult. This is, it's entirely unprecedented territory. But she deserves the truth." He leaned in, his voice but a whisper. "It does help that we both feel a pull to her. Once we see her, it hurts to no interact. Perhaps we can find a way to end this, to help her."

Crowley swallowed, looking away from Aziraphale's bright blue eyes. He smelled of vanilla and old books, a scent Crowley would bottle up and spray all over his stupid, cold flat if he could. Maybe this girl could help, maybe she was good. But they first needed to meet her.

"Alright. Fine. Let's go, now," Crowley said, sliding his sunglasses back on. Aziraphale nodded and retrieved his coat.

The pair walked out of the bookshop, locking up, and swiftly walked cross the street. They hesitated outside the door, neither knowing what to do. A flash of a blue apron in the window caught their attention, and then a golden thread, shining in the light, emerged and wrapped round the owners waist.

"You seeing that, Angel?"

"Y-yes, I am. It's not faded."

It didn't. It sparkled and swayed in the air, moving with the owners body as she walked around in the shop.

"On three," Aziraphale said. Crowley grumbled in agreement. "One, two ... three."

They opened the doors and were almost immediately greeted by a sweet smile and kind eyes. The same eyes they'd seen for hundreds of years. She smiled, tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Hi guys, welcome in! Feel free to take a seat wherever you like, I'll be with you in a moment."

"O-okay," Aziraphale said, his voice wispy in the confusion and whirlwind that was her. But she was entirely unaware, blissfully living in her own world that she didn't know was about to be ruined.

They sat in a far corner, away from any windows. Crowley sprawled in the seat, looking anywhere but at Aziraphale. Aziraphale sat stiff as a bored, left leg bouncing so furiously the table itself started to shake.

"Right, what can I get you lads?" She seemed to appear out of nowhere, shining golden thread wrapped round her sweet waist right where the apron was tied.

Aziraphale spoke first, not looking her in the eye but instead staring out the window. An uncharacteristically rude action on his part. "Oh, um, just a latte please. With 3 shots of vanilla."

"Ooo, yum. And for you, the one with the glasses?" She asked, her voice light.

Crowley thought for a moment. Better bite the bullet, eh? He turned, took his sunglasses off, and looked her in the eyes. "Espresso, darling."

Her eyes had a golden flash and she seemed to jump, her pad falling to the table in her shock. She looked between Aziraphale and Crowley with wide eyes, hands going to her stomach as she took deep breaths. "Aziraphale. Your name is Aziraphale," she said to him. Eyes wide. She turned to the demon. "You're Crowley."

"Yes, dear, we are."

"Why do I know that?" Her voice was shaky and yet she stayed, not angry or scared that she knew unknowable information.

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. Crowley sighed, flicking his hand. Time around them stopped. Customers held their mugs up in the air, Nina mid pouring a cup, and a man getting ready to ask for the most ridiculous drink he could think of. All were trapped in this moment except for her, Aziraphale and Crowley.

She jumped, looking around with wide eyes, "h-how'd you do that? Why did you do that?"

"Please, take a seat dear," Aziraphale said, snapping as a plush chair appeared behind her. She tripped into it, her body language stuff and frightened.

"This is all feeling like a very strange dream, and I don't like it," she said, taking deep breaths to try and clear her mind. "Did you just stop time and if so, how the hell did you? And you just miraculously created a chair? And why do I know who the hell you are?"

"Dearest, it's not a dream, I'm afraid. You have met us before. You've met us multiple times before," Aziraphale took a breath. "I-I'm afraid we have some complicated news."

"Tell me who the hell you are!" She was getting scared, her heart fighting against her rib cage. She wanted to get up, she wanted to run away, put her hands over her ears and scream 'la la la' over and over until they left her alone. But she didn't. It wasn't a physical thing, even though these familiar strangers had put her in a terrifying position she knew they'd let her go. It was her soul that kept her trapped. "Who are you? I need to know. Who are you really?"

Aziraphale placed a warm hand on her own. His was large, soft and yet strong. She liked the feeling of his hands as he held one of hers, looking into her eyes. "My name is Aziraphale. I am an Angel of God. I was the Guardian of the East Gate at the Garden of Eden, but now I am on Earth. I perform miracles and I run a bookshop, with my dearest friend."

His eyes glanced over to the other man. He was handsome, tanned skin with fiery red hair slicked up and back over his head. Aziraphale might have called him a friend, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe that. It was more than that, maybe they didn't know it but she definitely did.

Another hand grasped hers, this one lean and long. He grasped her hand with a soft intensity she didn't know possible. "My name's Crowley. I'm a demon, you'd know me cause I was a, uh, let's call me a reptile."

She blinked rapidly, "you were the snake that tempted Eve?"

"Wow, she's a quick one," Crowley smiled widely.

"Wasn't he cursed to only use his belly?"

Crowley rolled his eyes, "it's complicated."

"You, both, are not human. You're an Angel and you're a demon. So Christianity is right."

"Yes, love. But God is actually a She, that bit got muddled," Aziraphale smiled. "Are you feeling better?"

"That doesn't explain, why- why do I know you? I recognize both of you, but I don't know why. Then you made that comment about having met me multiple times, for years, what does that mean?" She was getting a little riled but she tried to stay calm. This wasn't going to make any more sense by screaming at a literal demon. And Angel, but the demon was more infuriating at the moment. He stared at her with a mix of awe and shock, and she didn't want to think about any of it.

Aziraphale sighed, "before the current era, you know Roman times and what not, the Archangel Michael played with the idea of threads. It was similar in concept to the Greek idea of fate -"

"You happened to be alive when this was a thing. It means when a demon curses you and says the word 'eternally' a black thread'll appear to let everyone know you're damned forever. White thread with angels."

"I'm damned forever? Wait, you said Roman times - I was alive during the ancient roman era?"

"Well, darling, he blessed you and I cursed you at the same day. Meaning your soul is trapped with both Heaven and Hell," Crowley said softly. "We think your soul has been reincarnated since about 55BC. And it's because of us. This Golden shit you see is our connection."

"But white and black make grey?"

Crowley clapped and said "aha! She gets it!"

"Crowley," Aziraphale said, though his eyes were light with amusement. "We can't explain the color of the thread. But we believe it means you're connected to us. Both of us, we get this pull to you when you're around. As though we have to see you."

There was a moment of silence as they let her collect her thoughts. Unconsciously, she'd curled up into a ball on the comfy chair Aziraphale had miracled. She thought and thought, rolling over the idea that she's trapped here on earth. An accidental immortal being tied to these two.

She glanced at Aziraphale. She knew him, she has known him. She bit her lip, wishing to understand everything as it was.

"M-May I?" She asked, tentatively lifting a hand near his face. She needed to touch him, to feel him, to try and remember.

The Angel nodded. He was soft, his hair light and white, in short curls on top of his head. She liked the curls, they looked rather fetching on him. Her fingertips brushed lightly down his face, feeling his kind face. She liked his lips, they were pink and couldn't fight a smile. Then she glanced down and saw his hand in his lap. Running an hand down his shoulder to his hand, she lifted it and eyed the golden ring.

"Aziraphale..." she murmured. It all started to fall into place. The dancing, the food, the wine. He'd looked so out of place in pale clothing, so obviously finer than anyone else's. He'd tried to blend in with an outdated style, to balance the richness, but she could spot him through the crowd with ease. His cheeks had gotten pink, and he'd gone for a drink. She hadn't meant to spill on him, she just wanted a chat. "I gave you this ring. You didn't want it at first, but I gave it to you. It says Aziraphale on it."

He took a shaky breath, his eyes becoming glassy with tears. His lips trembled as he said, "you did."

Aziraphale slid the ring off his finger, turning it so she could see the inside. There enough his name was scrawled in haphazard writing. It had faded from the years, some of the details lost to time. But she remembered this ring when it was new. When William had gotten it in his shop and didn't know what to make of it. And she'd taken it, knew it would be special.

She pressed a soft kiss to the ring, then slid it back on Aziraphale's finger. She looked him in the eyes as she kissed the back of his hand, "I remember you."

The tears had actually fallen now, hitting his cheeks softly. He didn't try to hide it, and she wouldn't want him to. Perhaps it was this whole eternal blessing thing, but she was drawn to him.

Then she turned to the demon. Crowley. He sat high and mighty in his chair, looking away as though he were intruding on Aziraphale's private moment. He was handsome in a different way than Aziraphale. Where Aziraphale was soft and strong, Crowley was sharp and sweet. She smiled when she looked at him, knowing he was sweet without saying it.

She went to him to, lifting her hand then asking softly, "may I touch you?"

He swallowed, and nodded. She first touched his hair, it was softer then it looked. Her fingertips brushed it so it feel on his forehead, liking the contrast of his skin against the red. Then she traced along his tattoo, the way his cheekbone felt under her touch.

With gentle hands, she cupped his cheeks and turned his face so he had to look her in the eyes. She smiled. "I'd wondered if they were still yellow."

He closed his eyes, cringing. He'd always hated his eyes. "Sorry they're-"

"Beautiful." He opened his eyes quickly. "I remember your eyes. They've been in my dreams and I never knew why. The man with the yellow snake eyes. They are so, so beautiful. Like a sunflower."

"You're comparing s'demon eyes to a sunflower?"

She smiled and nodded, "you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

Crowley sucked in a breath, closing his eyes. It as though the attention itself would make him implode.

"Keep them closed," she said. Then he felt a pair of soft lips kiss one eyelid, then the other. "Absolutely beautiful. Don't you think so, Aziraphale?"

Crowley was shocked to hear Aziraphale agree. "I adore your eyes, dear. They've been my favorite for a long time."

The three didn't know what to do with themselves, time frozen around them. But however strange the situation, she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. She wanted to get to know this Angel and demon, understand their pasts and more about their connection.

“Thank you, my dear, for your patience,” Aziraphale said kindly.

“I suppose I should be thanking you, you’ve waited hundreds of years.” She said with a dry laugh that made Crowley smile.

There weren’t any words that seemed to describe the moment the three of them shared, in a moment frozen in time knowing they had all the time in the world. But for now it was enough, and that was all it needed to be.

[emoisthenewemu]

⋆˚✿˖°𐙚 ERWIN SMITH X F READER SMUT 18+ MDNI

⋆˚✿˖°𐙚 cw: daddy kink, ex! levi x reader, SMUT, PORN W VERY LITTLE PLOT, p in v, female body parts, oral on both ends, squirting, size kink??, dumbification?, general nastiness almost 9K words of nothing but smut, rough sex, and i think thats mostly it!!!

⋆˚✿˖°𐙚 lol so if anyone is interested i might write a pt 2 w levi and a pt 3 threesome?? This also derived from a levi fic im working on i might just post that here too. Its so funny how my first work on tumblr is an ERWIN SMITH smut of all things but here we are. He makes me so feral

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You did not expect anyone to follow in your angry march away. In fact, you preferred that no one did, especially Levi. But he seems to be completely repulsed by you these days so you are sure he would do no such thing. Erwin did wait about a minute before taking off without a word, clearly just as unimpressed with Levi as you were. All the man wanted was to blow off some steam, but that was now ruined all thanks to the petty squabble between the former lovers. He was sick enough of hearing all about it from both sides and now it was following him outside of work. Smith did manage to sneak a pint for the trek underneath his coat, managing to finish it long before arriving back to headquarters. And his poor friend was in so much pain that it made him hurt too, he tried to avoid this, to warn her that Ackerman does not have the emotional intelligence for a relationship. He does not know how to be soft and sensual.

Like you deserve to be treated.

It would be inappropriate to admit that Erwin had thought about what it might take to satisfy a woman like you. In more ways than one. But he wants to ignore it and follows up the stairs silently, waiting until you reached the floor of your office/living quarters to call out your name. "Y/N"

"Not in the mood commander" You grumble, not wanting to hear an 'I told you so' from him of all people. You have always admired Commander Erwin, he was a man with principles and honor. A loyal and courageous leader, easily one of the best the Survey Corps had ever seen. Everything about him was impressive; a long list of accomplishments throughout his professional year, he was well educated and had a hefty amount of titan kills under his belt. Another thing which could be considered impressive would be the sheer size of the man. He towered over many with big burly shoulders and a deep, rich voice. His muscles would pop out of his undershirt (something the female scouts would never fail to notice) and his hands were large enough to make regular things appear miniature. You would be lying if you said you hadn't imagined what lay underneath that uniform. But it would be absolutely scandalous to sleep with the commander of all people.

However, you somehow did not find anything wrong with sleeping with the second highest ranking member of the Scouts. That was not your goal of course; to sleep with a powerful man. It just sort of happened, after years of the slow torture that was getting to know Levi and be close with him. Your relationship was similar of that to his with Hange-mostly comprised of shit talking and poking fun at each other. It was like that for years and sometimes things did get intense, growing more into argument territory rather than their usual lighthearted bickering. But you always made up, if not with a verbal apology then with little gestures. Levi always checked the straps of your gear before expeditions, made sure you stretched and ate beforehand. Whenever you found yourself in battle, he somehow always managed to be right behind just in case things went South. And it was not until you were able to lead a squad of your own that Levi had to admit he absolutely hated to be apart from you.

That was how you knew he loved you, it made keeping things so secretive okay. As long as you knew Levi cared for you, that was all that mattered. But as time passed you could not help but wonder if it was purely physical for him, judging by the way he began to completely ignore you in front of others. All it took was some light teasing for him to begin to stray away from your touch. And it hurt that something so small could be enough to stop all that was happening between the two of you. That seemed to be the beginning of the end, it was not long after that the man pulled you into his office and insist the two of you keep things professional from now on. That it was a mistake. He said it so coldly, as if he had not let you sleep in his arms two days prior.

But you played it cool and managed to make it all the way to the stairwell before hot tears began to stream down your face. You refused to let him see how much it hurt, wanted to make it seem as unimportant as he did.

That was only a month ago, so when Erwin initially invited you out to the pub you were weary of being in the presence of Humanity's Strongest Soldier. But Erwin insisted that one of his most hard-working soldiers should put the paperwork down for just one night and let loose. He also promised to not leave your side, aware of the weird tension between you and Levi.

Erwin was not dumb, and happened to be the only person who caught on to you and Levi. Noticing the stolen glances and sly smiles sent from across the room. It wasn't until you accidentally sent down a paper that was meant for Levi on the commander's desk. A paper with a not so subtle note at the bottom containing such foul things that he did not dare to even repeat them as he scolded the two of you for being so careless. You had never seen him so angry, nor had he ever spoke to you so harshly. It was so harsh you almost cried, hiding your face the whole time in utter embarrassment. The two of you promised to never again let your 'nighttime activities' affect your work. And he left it at that, choosing to never bring it up again. He intended on never involving himself between the two of you again.

But tonight as Erwin saw the pain which clouded your eyes, it made him want to make it all go away. How desperately he ached to make you forget all about Levi and scream his name all night long instead.

"I am not here to make you feel dumb" He reassures, closing your bedroom door behind him. You watch him intently from the other side of the room, a clenched jaw as he plays with the loosened collar of his shirt. The drinks were making him sweaty, a tiny droplet catching the light as it dripped down his chest.

The very last thing you should be worried about is how utterly sexy your commander looks at a time like this. You don't consider yourself the type of woman to move on so easily. But how can you not be enticed by a sweaty, hunky man standing in your bedroom, only there because he is worried about your well-being? Not what is beneath your clothes. In fact, he makes a show of averting his eyes as you begin to undo the bodice of your dress. He has always been so respectful and good to you, always made sure to ask your opinion on important matters because he valued your input. That was arguably the hottest thing he had ever done; respect you entirely. "Forgive me if it is not my place to say this, but I believe you can do much better than Ackerman"

You laugh, letting the strings of the corset hang as you silently pray he will give in to look at the way your breasts threaten to spill from your dress. "Is that so?" You raise a curious eyebrow. "Any better options?"

Erwin finally looks back over to you and he silently curses at your undone dress which is practically begging to just be ripped off. He swallows thickly, focusing on the middle of your eyebrows as to not look anywhere else. "None come to mind. Though I do hope you'll find one more willing to communicate his emotions"

"Hm" You kick off your boots, wondering if the tension is not just one sided. If he feels the heat too which eats at your whole body. So neglected, and feeling so unwanted. You put on your nicest undergarments today in the hopes that Levi would be taking you home. You just want someone to take care of you, soothe the uncomfortable ache between your legs. You have enough on your plate as is, dealing with the newest recruits to the Scouts. They were already starting fights and complaining about orders and it was supposed to be your job to whip them into shape. And you were exhausted, drained from feeling like a single mother with a group of disobedient kids who just had to question your every order. You needed some stress relief desperately. It is obvious with the way you rub your tired eyes, hunched over your bed as you stare at the floor. "And you? I still find it hard to believe a man like you has no lady waiting for you to come back home every night"

His posture eases up but his body remains pressed against the door, almost like he is afraid to step any closer. He imagines there is an imaginary line which starts at the wardrobe in front of him, and should he cross that line he does not trust there will be any going back. In fact, he should have left the very second his impure thoughts started. "A man like me?" He sounds almost proud, that charm of his is beginning to kick in. He loves talking to ladies, can wrap them easily around his finger. "Im awfully busy you know? Don't have enough time to dedicate myself to a woman the way they deserve"

"Poor Commander" Your sweet voice makes him weak in the knees, his resolve faltering with every second. "You're a good one, so strong and brave. You take such good care of all of us. I think you deserve to have someone take care of you"

You're such a good little soldier, the Commander has always thought so. You have always followed every single order with a sweet smile, obedient and looking to please. He wants to thank you for being so perfect, for worrying about him when the original intent of following you was to check on your feelings. And by now it is obvious that you are teasing him, not even bothering to hide the way you clench your thighs every time he speaks. And you, the little minx you are, can tell that you're getting to him. Finally cracking that iron-tough exterior. It's evident with the way he cannot look at your eyes more than a few seconds, gaze constantly darting down to your chest and exposed thighs. He is clearly battling inside of his mind and you are dead set on breaking him.

He clears his throat, beginning to tap his foot anxiously as he looks around almost comically. As if there were anyone else he could look over to in this room that would convince him to get the hell out of there. Commander be damned, that was not even a concern on his mind right now. His main worry would be how upset Levi would be if he ever found out his most trusted comrade slept with his woman. But at the same time, that makes it all the more enticing. He wished he could rub it in the smug bastard's face that he has his beloved practically begging to be fucked by him. How he wants to make you scream so loud Levi hears it.

"Y/N" It's almost painful to speak, the way he is actively holding himself back from moving. He refuses to take even a single step. "It would be very inappropriate to let something happen between us"

"Mmm....but that just makes me want it more" You whine and he brings his fist up to his mouth in an attempt to conceal the curses slipping out. You feel like you are almost there, so close to getting what you desperately want. You sigh dramatically, making a point of throwing yourself back onto your bed. "No one is forcing you to stay Erwin. I couldn't keep you from leaving if I tried"

You're right, he is a grown man and if he had any kind of self control he would be marching right out of there. But right now, his chest is warming up and his mouth is watering at the sight of your dress bunching up dangerously close to your most sacred area. Now on your side, you look him up and down. You cannot help but laugh at how tense he is, almost as if he was afraid of you. "Oh Erwin, stop looking at me as if I'm trying to corrupt you"

His pants are beginning to grow tight, his own body betraying him as he finds himself growing uncomfortably hard. He attempts to clasp his hands in front of himself in an attempt to conceal the forming tent. The man lets out a deep breath, looking up to the ceiling. His mind is made.

He wants to ruin all other men for you.

Erwin finally crosses that line, stepping forward and gesturing for you to sit up. You obey, watching intently as he kneels in front of you. "My only concern is that if I start I may not be able to control myself" He admits, hands tracing the skin of your ankles which hang over the bed. The position makes it so that he is placed in between your thighs, his body beneath you as he looks up with wide eyes. He is so handsome it's almost unfair, you bring a finger to trace his sharp jawline. "A woman like you should be cherished"

His rough hands bring up one of your legs, relaxing back on his heels as he goes to place a soft kiss to your calf. He catches a glimpse of your white, lace panties and it makes him groan. After all of this teasing, you now find it hard to speak-too entranced by how soft he is being. It is a complete contrast to the way Levi makes love to you-as if every time would be the last. Erwin is taking his time, kissing and licking up your legs so sensually that you find whines leaving your lips. But he stops at your inner thighs much to your dismay.

You pout, looking down at him expectantly. "Don't worry princess" He coos, seeing your frustrated expression. He knows you are impatient, he is too but it has been far too long since Erwin had the opportunity to pleasure a woman. He will be damned if he does not enjoy every second of it, if you don't finish multiple times then he will be rather disappointed. Perhaps it is one of his kinks, getting nice sweet girls all worked up-to corrupt them. You just feel so heavenly, he wants to make you turn absolutely filthy. "You'll get what you want. Good girls are patient"

You're so unbelievably horny you could cry. You want to beg him to just fuck you already but that would be way too desperate. You still would like to keep a semblance of respect for yourself, as if the act you found yourself in was not disrespectful enough. Commander Erwin is sliding your dress down your shoulders, making you sit up a bit so he could pull it down your thighs. It almost feels unreal, that the most respected man in the Regimen is on his knees for you, ready to take you entirely. Finally, he kissed your-gasping into it you could not help but pull him closer by the shirt. Your hands fumbled with the buttons, finally getting a chance to run your nails down those chiseled muscles you had only dreamed about up until now.

His tongue presses into your mouth, running his hands down your side as he tries to touch every bit of skin available to him. He is so good, kiss tender yet passionate. You can feel how badly he wants you, the way his head moves in sync with yours as low groans escape his lips. As desperate as you were a few minutes ago, you hate the thought of his lips leaving yours, grabbing hungrily at his biceps as she shrugs his shirt off. Erwin began to fumble with the buckle of his belt, ripping it off and throwing it to the side without a thought. When you finally pulled apart, you were about to complain until he stood up to take his pants off.

You decided to keep things going, slipping off your bra to leave you in only your panties. His eyes darkened at the sight, going back on his knees and immediately latching his lips onto your chest. Soft moans escape your lips as he finds one of your nipples, sucking softly at the skin as his hand gropes the other. You buck your hips into his, using one of your hands to play with his hair. "So good Erwin" You praise, reaching your other hand down to the place he needed to be touched the most.

You cant reach enough to wrap your hand around his length, but you can feel the tip rubbing against your fingers as you desperately try to grab more of him. He is thick, and you cannot wait to see how long he must be. When he finally pulls off of your chest to look up at you, you smile. Reaching down to kiss him, he allows you to jerk him more through his underwear-you notice it is too much for just one of your hands to hold. It makes you so anxious to feel him inside of you.

"You're so beautiful" Erwin compliments, his beautiful blue eyes taking in your entire figure. "I've always thought so"

"Wish I knew that sooner" You tease, aware that this cannot go any further than what happens tonight. Neither of you are in any place to be in a relationship. But it feels so incredibly good. "But I have to admit I have thought of this more than I should. You are one of the most handsome men I have ever seen"

It feels good to be complimented, it only makes him want to devour you even more. So he decided he has had enough of the teasing, he wants-no. He needs to taste the real thing. He wordlessly pulls down your panties, wrapping his arms around your knees to pull you closer. And he looks up at your pretty little face one more time, before diving in between your legs. One lick up your slit is all it takes to completely ruin the professional relationship the two of you had spent years building. He should be ashamed of himself, being in such a high power position and still succumbing to his own nasty urges.

It is so wrong, he moans into your pussy at the thought. It should not be making it so much better, the thought of how naughty he is to be licking up your pussy like a man starved. His tongue flicks between your folds, going up to circle your clit before going back down only to repeat his movements. Every time he reaches your clit, your hips bump up and it is not long before he pulls you so flush against his face that he cannot lick anywhere that's not your pussy. He shakes his head side to side, moaning again as he makes out with your folds. "Tastes so good" He groans before diving in, this time focusing on that little nub directly. You moan loudly, beginning to pant at the way he sucks right on your clit. He stops to flick it with his tongue, loud noises of slurping and sucking so obnoxious anyone in the nearby rooms could hear. "So sweet" He pulls apart again, unable to process how fucking good it tastes. If he had days he would dedicate the night to just eating your pussy, the fucking could wait for later. "Pussy's so good princess"

He moves his tongue lower, finding your entrance and prodding at it softly. He settles his face deeper between your thighs, grabbing the soft skin as his large nose bumps up against your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. God, his nose, so prominent and strong. The absolutely filthy thoughts you had about riding the man's face and using it to rub your clit against just like he was now. It was all so much, so good as your moans grew louder. He was fucking your entrance with his tongue by now and you could not help but bounce against his face, desperate to have more. The pleasure was starting to build, Erwin could tell by the incoherent words which spill from your lips.

No longer were the soft whines and moans which got him so worked up in the first place. Now you were talking complete nonsense, but that did not matter to him. That was only more encouragement for the man to keep going, oh how he wanted to fuck you stupid.

"Fuck!" You panted, hands gripping at the sheets, his hair, his shoulders, anything you could hold on to as your lower body bounced against his face. Nose still rubbing against your clit as you wonder how he could even breathe with his face so suffocated between your thighs.

He couldn't but he did not care. He was willing to die between your legs as long as you finish on his face. He needs it, he is dying of thirst and only your juice can give him some relief. "Please" He mumbled, going back up to focus on your clit and shoving a finger into you. You moan loudly and he begins to rock the digit into you, making out with your clit so sloppily you can hear the saliva sloshing around. It is so dirty it makes your eyes roll back, mouth forming into an 'o' as he picks up the pace, adding another finger. "Please cum on my mouth princess"

"Ohh yess baby!" You gasp, unable to think as the pleasure continues to build, overwhelmingly so as your legs begin to shake due to how fast the man fingers you. "Im-im..."

You cannot finish your sentence due to your release, and Erwin is going absolutely feral. He slurps up every drop, moaning about how good it is, that he can't believe you were hiding this perfect pussy from him all these years. He supposed he is to blame for that but he is far too in the moment to worry about any of it. When he pulls apart his face and chest are soaked, hair sticking to his head as he let out heavy breaths.

You managed to lift your body up, reaching out for his touch. He grabbed your hand and kissed it sweetly, almost as if that obscene scene which laid before you minutes ago never even happened. "Mm come here baby" You murmured softly and he obliged, giving in to the kiss you pulled him into. It was slow and sensual, tongues slowly greeting each other again as you held his face in your hands, enjoying the taste of yourself on his tongue. "Did so good" You mumble into the kiss, gasping when he bites your bottom lip.

"Thank you sweet girl" He mutters, going to kiss and bite at the skin on your neck. He breathes in your scent, tasting the salty sheen which now covers your whole body. His kisses are hot and needy, his hands going to grip your ass.

"Get on the bed please" You asked nicely, desperately wanting more praise. It sounded so incredibly good coming from him, was the best kind of encouragement you could have ever hoped for. You thought so highly of him, and you needed to make him proud. If you were going to ruin your relationship then you would at least hope he would be imagining your lips wrapped around his cock, thinking back on it fondly. Like you said, he took such good care of of you and this was simply returning the favor. "I wanna taste you now"

So he finally unveiled himself to you entirely, cock springing out as he pulled his underwear off rather impatiently. It slaps the skin of his stomach, a glossy sheen covering the tip as the rest of it looks angry-red and swollen, begging to be touched. He is so unbelievably thick that it makes your mouth water, thinking about how you will have to open your mouth as wide as you can to take him entirely. You slowly wrap a hand around the base, squeezing slightly as you prepare to take easily the largest cock you have ever seen. "You're so big" You almost whisper, pressing a chaste kiss to his knee.

Erwin senses some hesitation, reaching out to caress the side of your face so sweetly. He knows he is going to lose any sense of composure the second he feels your tongue, and he just hopes you are prepared to take him the way wishes. "But you can take it darling" He coos, thumb going to rub your soft lips. They part slightly, taking in the tip of his digit to suck on it lightly. He shudders at the feeling, imagining your lips wrapped around another part of him. "Such a good girl, gonna choke on daddy's cock for me right?"

You moan at his words, nodding so excitedly it makes him laugh. You are too precious really, he can't wait to ruin you. He wants to make you cry on his cock, shake and finish until you can't take anymore. "Yes daddy" His words are all the encouragement you need to finally take him, just allowing the tip into your mouth at first. Your tongue flattens against the tip, licking and tasting all of the precum which surrounds the head. Taking a deep breath, you move further, an experimental bob of your head as you find you mouth completely stuffed. And you're just about to reach halfway, how in the hell is this going to work?

Erwin's hand places itself in your hair, gently helping guide you further down. His noises are heavenly, and all he can do is stare down at you. Watching you take it intently, body shuddering as you begin to speed up the pace at which you bob your head. He thrusts slightly, smiling at the small gags leaving your mouth. But it's not enough, he needs you to choke on it, gasp for air as spit drips down your chin. He wants tears falling down your eyes as a bulge forms in your throat. This was all it took for any kind of respect to be thrown out the window, you've got him started now, feeling insatiable as he desperately wants to use you as a fucktoy. "Look at you" The blonde man groans, chest heaving and glossy as his thighs clench with the way you refuse to use your hands around him. Only your mouth, up and down gagging every time you take him in your throat. "Look so fucking sexy with my cock in your mouth"

You moan around his length, clenching your thighs together as you yearn for his touch once more. You can hardly breathe, the scent of his musk invading your nostrils as his pubic hairs tickle your nose. You are so completely enveloped by all things Erwin Smith, everywhere you look, touch, taste. And it is driving you crazy, unable to think about anything but your big strong commander who deserves to be praised. You need him to feel worshipped as you finally swap your mouth with your hands, choosing to suck on his balls instead. The act emits a growl from the man, panting above you as he cannot form any thoughts with the way you guzzle up his balls. You're moaning, sounds of slurping and spit as he can see the mess forming on your face. Jerking him hungrily as your tongue dashes across the two sacs, so eager to please him. "So fucking dirty" He curses again, an occurrence so rare it makes you moan. And he slaps your chin softly, not hard enough that it hurts but firm. "Who knew you were such a slut?"

You moan, going back up to take his member back in your mouth. You only bob a few times before coming up with a 'pop!', pleading eyes looking up at the man in front of you. His lips curved into a sly smile as he admires just how sloppy you look. Lips so swollen from taking his dick and a few strands of hair stuck to your chin from all of the spit. "Fuck my mouth please" You have no shame, you're almost whining as you grab his hands to hold your head. You look up with wide eyes, his excitement evident as it seems there is a newfound twinkle in the man's eyes. "Please daddy" It angers him to think about how obedient you must have been for Levi, he needs to remind you on what exactly you were missing out on.

"Such good manners darling" He compliments before lowering your mouth back onto him. His whole body tenses, groaning at the way your throat convulses around him as he pushes your head further down. "So sweet asking daddy for permission. I didn't even have to train you first"

You can't speak back of course, in fact he wonders if you can even process what he is saying with the way he thrusts up into your mouth. And the noises are so obscene, gargling and gagging-the sound of Erwin's pants and moans filling the room. It is too good to be true, his thrusts pick up the pace as spit falls freely down, pooling on his thighs as he massages the inside of your throat. Poor thing, it will be certainly bruised after this and he reminds himself to have a hot cup of tea prepared for you the next morning. Praises leave his mouth as he uses you, balls slapping against your chin as his hands begin to pull on your hair. You focus on breathing out of your nose when you can, swallowing every time he shoves himself all the way to the back. It drives him crazy, he moans loudly every time you do it and that is enough to keep you going. Your eyes are crying, unable to stop the tears from flowing as you choke on his cock.

It has been a very long time since Erwin had the sheer bliss of a woman's mouth wrapped around him. And he cannot remember if it felt this good the last time, he wonders how he went so long without it. Maybe it's just you, so willing to take him and let him do whatever he wants. It makes his cock twitch, release nearing as he finds himself proud he even lasted this long. As much as he wants to prolong it, toes clenched and chest tightened as he refuses to spill out-he decides to give you a break. You deserve it, with how well you've taken him. "M'cumming darling, you better swallow all of it" He growls, slapping your cheek softly as you moan excitedly-ready to swallow his seed. "And say thank you"

Those are his last words before finally spilling into your mouth, jaw slack as he moans loudly into the night. His hips rock softly, chasing his high and it makes his body shudder. You clean all of it up, careful to not spill as much as a drop and you make a show of swallowing to prove you won't be letting it go to waste.

"Thank you" You hum, giggling softly because things will never be the same.  You wish you could brag to all of the other women who admire him just as much as you do.

He pulls you up by the hand and you get on the bed, humming softly when he embraces you, wrapping an arm around your waist before settling his forehead down on your shoulder. He kisses the skin softly and you melt into his touch, running your fingers up his back. It is so intimate, a complete opposite from the filthy things that took place moments prior. Your lips meet again, moving slowly and tenderly as you both grab at any skin available. You feel hungry for more, carnal desires completely overriding your body as you want to beg him to take you. Levi is not even a thought in your mind as you crave Erwin and Erwin only.

He can tell you need him with the way your tongue impatiently explored his mouth, hand going to grab his half-hard member. Stroking it softly you whine into his mouth, leaving his lips to place kisses trailing down his neck. You suck at his earlobe softly, emitting a groan from the large man. He stops your movements by grabbing your wrist. "Lay on your back darling"

You nod, moving back onto the bed and opening up your legs to give him a view of the thing he craved to feel the most. The sight alone is enough to make him fully erect, ready to fuck you the way you deserve. He kisses up your body, starting at your hipbone and following up your ribcage until he reached your neck. His big hands run up your legs, greedily as he takes in every inch of your body. He can't stop touching you, fingers grazing the soft skin of your stomach, going to trace over your nipples and collarbone. "Please Erwin" You beg, yes you love the way he is looking at you as if you were the only woman on Earth. You feel adored, so confident under his soft eyes that you are not even worried about covering up. You feel no shame, only desire for the man situated between your legs, shoulder muscles flexing as he wraps both arms around you. But you are going to go absolutely insane if he doesn't fuck you soon.

"You're too good to be true princess" He sounds sincere, nuzzling his head into your nape as he rubs his cock against your slippery folds. You whine, grinding down on him before trying to grab it and put the damn thing in yourself. He stops you like it's nothing, choosing to pin your wrist above your head. "I need to ruin you"

With those harsh words, he finally pushes the tip inside, groaning immediately at the sensation. He does not bother to wait for you to catch up, sheathing himself entirely as you claw at his back-you open your mouth to gasp but no noise comes out. It's as if his cock is strangling you, filling you up in a way you could have never imagined. "Take it" He whispers, bucking his hips softly and ignoring the way to try to paw his hips away from you. It's too much to handle, your pussy feels like it might split open from all the pressure. Tears well in your eyes as you try to relax, taking a deep shaky breath that makes the man shudder. You look so cute trying to relax when his dick is molding your walls to his size, and the way you cry out with every thrust makes him want to give you more. "Fucking take it" He mutters, groaning when you try to push his hips away again. "Stop running and relax"

You whine, bottom lip shaking as he pushes himself inside again, choosing not to move so you can become more accustomed to the feeling. And even when he is not moving, you still whine and dig into his back as if he were actually fucking you. "It's just so big. Y-you didn't even go slow" A tear falls from your eye and you don't even know how screwed you are.

He's not listening to your complaints, all he sees is a whiny whore that needs to be whipped into shape. But he will do it, by the end of the night you'll be more than prepared to take his cock at any time. He is about to scold you, but he notices your walls beginning to relax, your chest no longer raised as if you could not lay down comfortably. "You're the one who begged for it slut" He thrusts again and you both moan, your arms go to wrap around his neck. His face is pressed into your chest, bodies flushed entirely against one another as his slow but powerful thrusts invigorate your every sense. "And now-" He stops to give another hard thrust and you practically scream at the feeling. It causes him to cup his hand around your mouth, angling his body into a new position. He pulls your hips down, your body going down slightly so that you are more flat on the bed. "You're gonna take what daddy gives you, okay?"

You nod and that is when the fun truly begins. You really had no idea what you were in for, going and teasing your commander just for the fun of it. Because you were messy and horny and needed to be stuffed. You did not know it would result in the most in-depth and passionate fucking of your life. He needed it even more than you did, the stress of his job and the constant questioning of his morals was beginning to drive him mad. He did not feel like a person anymore. He was a martyr, represented every single soldier in the Survey Corps. The public could point and blame him whenever an expedition went bad, every loss of life was his fault. He was a devil.

The only thing devilish about the man was the way he fucked, no mercy, using every bit of his strength to get exactly what he wants. You cannot do anything but moan and cry as he pounds into you, unaware that all of his anguish was being poured into you. He feels the most alive he's felt in years, he never wants it to end. He wished he could fuck you until his heart stops. His movements grow faster, the mattress loudly squeaking and you wrap your legs around his back. You cry out his name as he watches your breasts bounce with every movement.

"S-so good daddy" You whimper into his ear, clinging to his body and trying to pull him even closer as if it were possible. "Fuck! Feels so good!" Your hips are trying to meet his thrusts sloppily. Too preoccupied to think, you dig your forehead into his shoulder, moaning whatever words you can make out. When you bite down on his shoulder he cannot stop the moans which leave his mouth. His noises are the hottest thing you have ever heard, so deep and guttural. You suck on his adam's apple, pussy clenching due to his desperate noises.

"Gonna cum inside this messy pussy" He manages to speak, and the sight of your juices splattered across his abs make him want to finish that very moment. He wants to watch the glistening skin as you gush around him but he knows he won't last with such a filthy sight. He just needs a little bit more before he lets it all go completely. Erwin slips a palm beneath your head and cups the crown of your head, groaning because you're now fucking him back, desperately clawing at his back muscles as you try to guide his pace into you. He moves up to catch your lips but cannot find it in himself to kiss you when he feels such ecstasy. You moan into each others mouths so desperately as he rocks into you. You continue to fuck down on his cock, thighs beginning to shake.

"Mm! Mm! G'na...fuuuck" You cry out as your orgasm finally arrives. It rocks your entire body and you go limp, unable to form a single thought as Erwin chases his own high.

Luckily, the way your walls squeezed him in the second you came was more than enough to encourage his release out of him. His toes curl as he finally lets himself finish, panting into your skin as his cock twitches inside of you. Both of your bodies are slick with sweat by now and he keeps himself inside of you, letting all of his weight down. His head rests on your chests, mewling in delight when you bring your fingers to scratch his scalp. "What do you say darling?" He reminds as he remembers a hand still remains tangled in your hair, pulling you closer to press a lazy kiss on his lips.

You kiss him back longer then expected and he leans into your touch, causing his cock to slip out. You both whine at the sudden loss of contact. It almost feels wrong to not have him plugging you up. "Thank youu" You remember and he laughs almost mockingly. His thumb grazes your lip and he pulls you closer to kiss you again. His tongue teasingly introduces itself into your mouth before pulling out completely. He remains close, hot breath ghosting against your skin. "Mm, thank you so much daddy"

He kisses you again, so hungry it makes you whine-suddenly aware of his seed which leaks out of your swollen pussy. "You're so adorable" You meet with another sloppy kiss and when you suck on his tongue excitedly his dick springs back to life.

"Again" He orders, a newfound burst of energy as he shoots back up. Resting back on his haunches, he pats the bed. "On your knees"

You're staring at him like he is insane. Of course you want him again, you feel so empty without him. But you would also like to be able to walk tomorrow. Your arms are barely strong enough to hold yourself up, shaking with the way you lean back on them. You are a very busy woman, have important drills to run with the newest recruits and the thought of flying around through the trees in your ODM gear makes you want you cry. You are so sore already, your poor pussy feels like she was abused. Not to mention you have to walk an almost comical amount of stairs just to get outside in the first place. "B-but I have drills to run tomorrow" You pout.

Erwin laughs at the scared look in your eyes, so mean as he rolls his eyes dismissively. "I'm certain you'll live" He mocks and it makes you pout even harder. "Don't be a brat, I thought you were a good girl"

"I am!" You insist and you look so cute it makes his dick twitch in anticipation. He needs you again, and he will have you again.

"Hmm, I'm not so sure" He teases, fingers running up your thigh to meet your pussy. "Thought you want to make your Commander happy?" He asks, using a finger to clean up some of the cum that was now dripping inside of you.

When he pushes it back inside, your leg twitches and the man smiles wickedly. "I do Commander!" You whine. "You deserve the best"

He raises an eyebrow expectantly and you get the hint, flipping your body over and arching your ass up into the air. He is very obviously pleased, placing a harsh slap to your ass. He does it again, watching the way your flesh ripples with each smack. You yelp the fourth time he does it, this one harder than the rest. "Good girl" You smile at the praise, glad you are back in his good graces. You'll take him as many times as he likes-so long as he never looks at you again with that disappointed look in his eyes.

He lines himself up your entrance, entering slow this time. Your velvet walls suck him in so greedily it's hard to move, but he manages with a few curses escaping his lips. He throws his head back with the next thrust, obsessed with the squelch of all of the juices leaking out your sloppy pussy. "Ohh my" He moans, eyebrows furrowing as he watches his cock disappear into your tiny hole. The way you tighten around his limb makes him think you are fighting the urge to run away from it. He notices your dainty hands clawing at the sheets, your face scrunched up as you moan loudly.

The sound of clapping begins to arise with every thrust, he grabs your sides to keep you in place, his hips piston into you at an unrelenting pace. You can't even think. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" You cry each time the tip brushes your cervix and Erwin is in a trance of his own. His eyes are glued to the creamy ring forming at the base of his cock, ears so focused on listening out for those nasty noises exiting your cunt.

He moans unabashedly as he drills into your poor cunt. He is too focused on the lewd noises exiting your pussy that he does not notice the way the headboard slams against the wall. The wood is old, creaky and likely rotting by now. It also has taken quite enough beatings already from your late night escapades with Levi, you aren't sure it can handle much more. But you don't dare to try and stop him, you're too fucked out to speak anyways. You gasp when he hits a certain spot that makes you see stars.

"Right there princess?" He groans, pulling himself almost completely out before snapping his hips right back into the same spot, earning the same reaction out of you. "Daddy takes good care of his girl right?"

Your eyes are almost crossing with the overstimulation. His deep commanding voice, the way his balls slap your clit with every thrust, his fingertips digging into your thighs so tightly they're sure to leave a mark and his filthy fucking words are going to be the death of you. You take a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut at the delicious mix of pain and pleasure. "Yes daddy! Yes! Doing so good!" You're a mess, drooling into the sheets as it seems the man has finally met his goal. You are ruined. Your words are growing borderline incoherent, repeating the same things over and over. "So good! S-so big! Mm-so strong!"

Erwin is practically lifting your bottom half completely off the bed, drilling into you as if his life depends on it. The 'pat pat pat' of skin slapping together makes him feel absolutely feral, his eyes stuck on the way your body moves with each calculated thrust. "Yes!" He chants like a prayer, growling when your pussy begins to squeeze him. And the way you whine, cry, and slobber beneath him makes it seem like you haven't been fucked good in a while. "What would Levi say if he saw his pretty little slut bent over for her Commander?" He slaps your ass and you squeal. His thumb goes to press against the rim of your asshole, teasing the flesh lightly as he pulls your pussy back onto him.

"Ahh!" You moan, fully intending to answer his question. "Oh he'd be so mad!" You giggle and another thrust makes you cry out again. "F-fuck cant imagine"

"Does he fuck you better than this darling?" The man spits on your pussy, leaving a stinging sensation with another rough slap to your ass. The skin is red and he hopes to god a handprint will be left over to commemorate this blissful night. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your skull, whining like a bitch in heat as he rubs against your g-spot. You cannot talk, pussy squeezing his cock that is currently abusing your hole. And when he stops, going to press his palm flat against the side of your head you want to cry. Slowly fucking yourself back into him, you shudder, overstimulation creeping up as he hits every spot perfectly. "I asked you a question slut"

Truth is, you are afraid to answer. Things with Levi are just different. And not in a bad way, you have cried around his cock multiple times and he has certainly pleased you in the past. With Erwin drilling into you, you want to scream that he is the best you've ever had and ever will. But you also fear the repercussions, should Levi ever find out you said that you will be punished for God knows how long. But Erwin absolutely needs you to fuel his ego, he needs to fuck you better than Levi ever can. So he angles your hips a bit more and thrusts hard, keeping his tip pressed against your cervix and rubbing the spot lightly. You scream at the sensation, eyes beginning to well up from the pleasure. His hand pushes your head deeper into the bed, picking your hips up even more as he used you like a doll. "Is this all your good for princess? Nothing but a tight fuck-hole"

You cry out garbled moans of his name as he fucks you so meanly. In this moment he has full control, and you will do whatever he says. "S-so much better than Levi daddy!" He almost stops to confirm if he heard that right but he decided he would much rather fuck the confession out of you again. So he does, arching your back even more and fucking you harshly into the mattress. The bedframe is back to being thrown against the wall again, loud creaks matching his every thrust. "Your dick is so good daddy! Best I ever had!"

That is exactly what he needed to hear to lose the little bit of composure left in his body. His groans and movements are starting to become borderline animalistic. The sight is so obscene, if anyone were to walk in they would come face to face with the shock of their life. He does not worry about the noise, the only other person with living quarters on this floor is Hange and she's no snitch. Especially if she knew the Commander was involved, he was more than positive she would look the other way. The only other person he can think of who would come up here is Levi and by God he hopes he does. The thought makes his balls tighten, Levi listening on the other side of the door as his sweet girl cries around Erwin's cock.

"This pussy is mine now" The blonde commands, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. "I'm going to take you wherever I want whenever I want okay Soldier?"

"Y-yes commander!" You're fully sobbing by now, tears streaming down your face. You look sooo pretty, Erwin thinks. It is making all smart thoughts fly out the window, oh how he needs you to scream out his name.

"Say my name" The man orders, cock still stuck inside you and moving at an unrelenting speed. His stamina is almost as impressive as his cock. "Let them all know who fucks your cunt this good"

"Yes! Yes!" You nod beneath him, still pressed into the sheets as you try to ignore the loud 'CRACK!' coming from your headboard. A few more calculated thrusts are sure to make the thing fall apart. "Ohh Erwin! So good! Erwin!"

"That's it sweetheart" He moans freely into the air, hips snapping into yours. "Let them know how good your Commander fucks you"

You continue chanting his name and the second your eyes squeeze shut, walls clamping down on him the bed finally breaks. It crashes down as his cock continues to plunge into you, for some reason seeing the wood crack right down the middle makes Erwin go even harder. He desperately hopes Levi can hear the depraved noised which fill the room. Your head is growing dizzy, gasping for air as your thighs begin to shake. You try to warn him of your upcoming release but it comes much faster than anticipated, you sob as your juices spray his abs. His big heavy balls are coated with your liquid and he admires the way it almost glows with the light. And this time around he doesn't even have to remind you to scream out "Thank you! Thank you!"

"That was a big one princess" He moans, chasing his own release as his thrusts grow sloppy. His hands grip your hair even harder and you hiccup as he leans his body into yours, fucking your pussy almost lazily. The sight of you squirting will never leave his head after this, he fully intends to see you do it again. "Oh so good" He moans, finally shivering as his cock twitches. Slapping himself against your pussy he finally cums, spraying your womb with his seed. Unfortunately, thanks to Levi he is aware that you are on birth control. It's almost painful to think he has no chance of getting you pregnant, but he still imagines your stomach swollen with his child.

He pulls out, finally relaxing as he lays down beside you. Both of your chests going up and down as you try to catch your breaths. You are an absolute mess, sprawled out across the sheets-still on your stomach. Your head is facing the opposite way, in its own pile of tears and slobber from being fucked so dumbly. His cum drips out of you, a heavenly sight that he cannot tear his eyes away from. But he wants to feel you close, the man brings out a hand to trace up your spine. It makes you shiver with delight. "Let me hold you darling"

You wordlessly turn over to face him, welcoming yourself into his strong, warm arms. Your head rests on his chest, bare bodies pressed together as he softly plays with your hair. Your hands rests on his chest, feeling his heartbeat drum against your palm. Erwin kissed the top of your head softly, he feels so welcome in the comfort of your bedroom. He intends to sleep with you in his arms, and just maybe he will stay tomorrow night too if you let him.

"Erwin?" You ask hesitantly, the post-orgasm clarity kicking in as you take in the weight of your actions. You fucked your Commander, what now?

"Yes my darling?"

"What am I going to tell them about my bed?"

___

Levi is quick to make it to your room next morning. He is up bright and early, intending to catch you before you make your way down to the mess hall for breakfast. He also hopes that maybe he'll get some make-up sex out of this. He even showered the second he woke up. He knows he is an idiot and getting shitfaced last night was enough to make him realize he loves you. It is the only reason he acted so out of his character, no respect or second-thought for your feelings. He regrets it all and is fully prepared to do what it takes you make you officially belong to him.

He is at the end of the hall, only a few steps away from the staircase when he heard your door open. He hears you giggle, it makes his heart drop. He cannot remember the last time he heard your sweet laugh. And he is utterly puzzled when he sees you push Erwin out your bedroom door into the hall. You say something he can't make out and Erwin obnoxiously laughs at your words before the door closes in his face. Levi is utterly shocked as the wheels in his head turn, noticing that Erwin is still in the same clothes he wore to the Pub last night. He was not in Uniform, instead he had a few of his shirt buttons undone, the fabric very obviously wrinkled and not neatly pressed like his clothing always was. He also appears to not even be showered yet, he looks like he has just woken up. Worst of all is the God-forsaken, smug smile on his lips when Erwin finally catches sight of Levi who remains in his place at the end of the hall.

"Good morning Levi" The blonde greets.

"Erwin" Is all the raven-haired man says, that same unimpressed look on his face as always. "Were you just leaving Y/N's room? Did you sleep there?" He has no shame in asking, he needs to know.

"Oh we were just having a conversation! Don't be ridiculous" He walks closer to Levi, who remains with his arms crossed. "It seems she is need of a new bed-frame"

Levi's eye twitches, he knows that shitty thing is on it's last legs. He's partly to blame for that. "And why's that?"

Erwin sighs, slapping a hand on Levi's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it" Levi immediately throws his hand off and the man continues inching towards the staircase. "Just get back to work Captain!" Levi rolls his eyes, watching the Commander begin his descent down. "That's an order!"

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:💀 PERSEPHONE: QUEEN OF THE UNDERWORLD, GODDESS OF SPRING, THE DEAD, THE UNDERWORLD, GRAIN, AND NATURE 💐 (PART 1)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is PART 1 of the Persephone Demigod Headcanons. Due to the size limit of Tumblr, I had to split the entire work into two. [LINK TO PART 2 HERE] Hi everyone! It took me a bit to figure it out but here's what everyone has been waiting for! Persephone is just 1 out of the 4 works I have planned and written for, and these works will be categorized as the MISCELLANEOUS GODS due to not the fact these gods are minor or anything, but because I did mention this in an ask before and it's easier to think about due to the canon PJO world building. These works will be a bit more loose since I'm taking a shot in the wild so hopefully you guys like it. Thanks for reading!!

*Disclaimer: mentions of unusual births, life and death*

People have been wondering if Persephone would have a demigod of her own, considering Hades has his own children, but also it’s slightly more believable if people know about the story of Adonis. However, there are very limited ways that the goddess would give birth to a demigod, since she’s very loyal and in love with Hades, and vise-versa.  

How you could’ve been born:

You really could’ve been born normally where Persephone’s eyes fell upon a mortal, when it was during Spring or Summer, or when the autumn and winter months have been delayed. 

Honestly, I can see this going for either gender of mortal: If your mortal parent is male, Hades couldn’t have done much because he knows Persephone’s preferences are strict and the last human she fell in love was Adonis, that Aphrodhite herself loved as well, so, Hades worrying about her being (repeatedly) unfaithful is very rare so your mortal male parent is the exception. So don’t expect any or more demigod siblings of Persephone. Not totally out of Hades’ ire, but given how many demigod children he has, he really doesn’t say anything. If your mortal parent is female, I can see it being this unusual birthing process where some sort of guidance is required: maybe Persephone offered a seed that your female mortal parent swallowed and boom, you were born. 

You’re a cabbage patch baby or a rose baby. or you’re born from a Peach. Turnip baby. Any plant based births. Quite literally. Don’t ask how this exactly works, but it involves the blood, sweat, and tears of your mortal parent planting the seed that Persephone gave/helped and raised you together. 

There’s a story where a woman ate a red and white rose to give birth, and I don't think that's not off the books for Persephone to do. Offering the flowers or something for your mortal parent to eat and boom, here you are-

You were either or an orphan, a completely child/baby that was near earth or had died, and you underwent the same process that (Zagreus)  Dionysus underwent with the weird death-rebirth thing; where you were (SOMEHOW) taken in by Persephone physically then reborn as a child of Perseophone when she gave birth to you. Since you technically died, you lost half of your mortal self because of the whole dying thing, but was replaced with Persephone’s godly portion.

That said, you’re not probably a double demigod if you went through the whole rebirth thing: where before you were a demigod child that died before Persephone gave you a new life. If you are however, oh boy, the Fates have something planned for you and it will not be an easy/happy life for you; doomed or tortured by the narrative. Your happy ending will have to be earned and fought with blood and tears. Afterall, the more powerful the demigod, the less easy it is for them.

 Either way, I don’t really see Hades targeting you on the level Hera does to the children of Zeus; though you still might want to refer to Hades (very) politely as Lord Hades or Godly Step Father. Just good manners, you know.

Regardless, everyone at camp is very confused and looking at you in a mixture of wonder, uncertainty, fear, amongst a few. When you get claimed, it’s like Spring has arrived, even when it’s Autumn or Winter. Nature blooms all around you with such vitality no one has seen before, with flowers, grains, and crops sprouting underneath your feet and all around you. Once the claim is over, if it’s Autumn/Winter, the world reverts back and everyone can see the rot that surrounds them except for you as you walk. 

Everyone expects you to be either a “Flower prince[ss]”, a soft person like Spring, or “A Prince[ss] of the Underworld”, terrifying like your mother. However, while you may lean one than the other, you can be both. Afterall, Persephone may be one to bring growth and fertility to the earth, and everything, she is also just as much as Kore that lends to herself being the Goddess of the Underworld and the dead where destruction follows. On the other hand, it’s a pretty cool thought where you’re wearing a crown of flowers and being all soft looking but switch to something darker with the flower petals falling off, to reveal a crown of thorns with the shadows curling around you to almost seem like your face is a skull, and vise-versa. You do you.

When you walk on the earth, you’ll sprout flowers and plants underneath your feet but as soon as you raise your foot to step away, the plants will wither and die, leaving rot behind. Sort of like the God of the Forest walking in Studio Ghibli’s “Princess Mononoke” .

[PART 2 TO PERSEPHONE DEMIGOD HEADCANONS HERE]

[russellsppttemplates]

hiiii, I’m not sure if you got my request or if tumblr ate my ask, sorry if you did but aren’t comfortable with writing it just ignore this, but I was wondering if you could write something with lance where the reader has bad cramps like usual and then they buy an electric cramp simulator thing for lance to know what it feels like. Thank you so much, sorry for asking again :)

Cw: mentions reader's endometriosis

Note: I don't have it in my inbox, so maybe tumblr ate it? It's not the first time something like this happens, so you did well in sending this in!

The whole concept of a TENS machine scared you a little. If you were already feeling pain, why would you want to feel it somewhere else? "Here, let's try it together, okay?", Lance encouraged, "if you don't like it, we'll stop right away", he assured as you nodded, prompting him to place the stickers along your tummy.

"Is it helping?", he questioned, "yes, actually. Like, it's this sort of buzz that's soothing the area a little", you explained, "Feels good enough, yes", you smiled, kissing his lips as a thank you as you cuddled up to him.

"Would it be really offensive if I asked you to try and feel the way you feel your cramps?", Lance blurted, "it's one of those intrusive thoughts people talk about, isn't it? I'm sorry, forget I even said anything!", he said right away.

"I don't think it's offensive - I mean, you're not going to go all macho man and say you could feel the cramps while you took your breakfast, right?", you asked teasingly. You knew he wouldn't do that, he was sensitive and empathic enough to not do it. "Of course not, sweetheart! I know the pain you feel is very very bad and I'm not doubting anything, guess I'm just curious", he assured.

"I know you won't, love", you kissed his cheek, grabbing the small remote to control the pressure and intensity, "okay, lift you shirt up, please", you asked as he did so, "this is the average bad ones", you said as you stuck the material on his skin.

Lance groaned, "it's this all the time?", he croaked out, "yes, and then like this when it's really bad, like that time I called you to come over because I couldn't move", you changed the settings for a bit before turning it off, "I'd never wish this pain on anyone else, so I'm not letting you feel it for too long", you nudged, kissing his tummy as you took the stickers away.

"I'm really sorry, love", he said earnestly, "I know it's not up to me, but I'm sorry you feel like that", he kissed your forehead, pulling you to cuddle him.

"I've had it most of my life since I started my period, and now I have the best nurse ever taking care of me when it happens", you smiled, kissing his lips softly before nuzzling your face on his neck.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[lampiridaes]

hello agaian. im here to request a different thing from what i usually request. hsr!! yay!!! yanqing, arlan, and qingque with a guinaifen-like s/o. a silly streamer and blogger.. like whatd they do or react when thir s/o do streams with them sometimes!!.. maybe trying out different types of foods, doing tricks, exploring places.. and more

(also you can refuse this req since idk if i can submit 2 or not, i donnt wanna sound greedy :'))

thank you!!!!<3

♬ now playing: "streamer"

-> "chat is this real", "... who are you talking to???"

summary. hsr chars w/ a guinaifen-like!s/o

chars. yanqing , qingque (ft. fu xuan)

notes. blinks repeatedly. man! how long has it been. hai lyn!!! thank u for the two requests!!!! except tumblr ate the other one up and i . forgor what it was. u have been reading my works since liek . december ??? i find u very cool.!!!!! I COULDNT THINK OF ANYTHING FOR ARLAN and also this is relly really short I AM very.veru sorry:( i hoep u still enjoy this tho!.!!!! ^0^

contains. spoilers for the event story "aurum alley's hustle and bustle" (yanqing), fluff, established relationships

track one: yanqing

considering yanqing's job and training, he doesn't have as much free time as he wishes he had. but he still hangs out with you and even guests in your streams at times!

in fact, he even joined in when you visited aurum alley. after sushang and the trailblazer fixed the area up, helping the stores, it was no surprise that it was on your go-to list.

"good evening, everyone! i'm sure you all heard about the renewal of aurum alley, so i came here today!" you smiled at the video camera, then switched it over to frame yanqing, who was coming back to you with some berrypheasant skewers in hand.

"and today, i'm accompanied by the cloud knight's lieutenant, yanqing!" yanqing, already biting into one of the skewers and handing yours to you, gave a goofy smile to the camera.

essentially, you were documenting your exploration date with yanqing. he didn't seem to mind that much, though.

the chat, on the other hand, was sort of going wild — spamming cute stickers, a bunch of cheesy comments about you guys... overall finding this puppy love to be very cute (it is.)

track two: qingque

and on the other side of the spectrum, there's qingque — biggest slacker of the divination commission. it's admirable how she isn't fired yet.

so, it means that she's almost always down to stream with you. and this time, the both of you decided to explore around the luofu. nothing too special, honestly.

"man, this is actually getting a little boring." qingque mumbled, observing around the area you two are in. supposedly, there was something 'super duper fascinating' in this place, and you wanted to check it out. for the views.

admittedly, you were disappointed, too. you've been walking around for a good 45 minutes now, and nothing has shown up. not a building, creature, object... zero.

well, until you hear footsteps coming from behind you.

the both of you stopped in your tracks, absolutely horrified to hear something like that for the first time. it was almost cartoonish, the way you looked at each other like, 'did you hear that, too?'

one word came from the voice behind you, firm and annoyed — "qingque."

it was just the master diviner, fu xuan. however, realistically speaking, that's even scarier than any beast you could come across.

... needless to say, the stream switched off soon after.

[dreaming-medium]

Pssst, can I ask u🫵 something?

Do you have any rec for skzfic? Since you're a good writer so I think you a good taste in fics

Omg hey! You can absolutely ask me this, sorry it took so long for me to get around to! SO I read most (all) of my fics on Ao3! I'm still getting used to Tumblr lmao I can try to curate some Tumblr fics but that would take me a hot minute But here are some good ones I have bookmarked, I think most, if not all, are smutty 18+, but I'll tag them nontheless: Not gunna lie, 99% of the fics I read have smut just cause of what I like, so

Multi-chap fics:

Close Your Eyes (... And Count To Seven) by MysteryBird (18+) Ot8 x reader Word Count: 117,144 Mafia AU where the reader hooks up with each member of the gang. HIGHLY SMUTTY, has some extreme kinks in it. Definitely a Dead Dove Do Not Eat on the tags. But my god it is so well written and has plot, idk how it doesn't have more attention.

Stray Gods by DollyStuart (18+) Poly!Ot8 x reader Word Count: 171,475 (WIP, not finished) All of the members are gods of different powers and the reader is their guide throughout godhood. Has some good smut!

Tangled by ThisPeachIsDirty (18+) Poly!Ot8 x reader Word Count: 199,549 Reader is a tour photographer for the group and all of them use her to relieve... tension in various ways.

Instinct by fizzydrink698 (18+) Bang Chan x reader Word Count: 53,405 ABO where the reader is an alpha and Chan is the omega, it is definitely one of my fav SKZ ABO fics

Friends with Benefits by starrgaziingg (18+) Lee Know x reader Word Count: 67,847 "Lee Minho is a legacy at your university. He received an honorary award when he graduated, got a position as a dancer in a company a week after receiving his diploma...and was renowned as the schools famous ice-cold fuckboy." SO good

What You Deserve by 2chopsticks2eyes (18+) This is another author that I devour any of their work Lee Know x reader Word Count: 67,284 "You meet your best friend's group from college and find yourself spending more and more time with Minho. Sexual tension ensues." I think I re-read this fic 10 times already One Shots:

Strike the match, burn me down till I'm nothing by lemonhopia (18+) Kim Seungmin x reader Word Count: 5,290 enemies to lovers (sort of) Seungmin is reader's childhood best friend's brother who has been nothing but a thorn in her side since they were little. He's tasked with picking you up from the airport for your best friend's wedding.

conflict, conceal, confess by fizzydrink698 (18+) TBH anything by this author is AMAZING. I stalk their page so often. Lee Know x reader Word Count: 18,239 "minho and reader have been academic rivals for nearly a decade. now they have to put aside their differences, call a truce and finally admit they're ridiculously attracted to each other."

The Duke and I by lordseok (18+) Hwang Hyunjin x reader Word Count: 32,289 Bridgerton AU "Wishing to be a successful writer in the regency period seemed next to impossible for the sole daughter of a dead earl. With arising pressures from your mother to tie the knot, you turn to your dearest friend, Hwang Hyunjin, Duke of Hastings and the most eligible, scandalous bachelor of the season, for assistance. When he suggests the insane of idea of marrying each other to help each other, you agree to the proposal, unaware of how much the duke can teach you of the wonders of matrimony." I. Ate. This. UP. It is SO WELL WRITTEN.

[aspiringtrashpanda]

HI TUMBLR USER ASPIRINGTRASHPANDA im a big fan of your work please keep it up!!!!!!!!

would it be too oddly specific to request raph introducing mc to hella britney spears obey me? :D

HI TUMBLR USER SHOOTINGSTARRFISH IT WOULD BE AN HONOR TO WRITE ABOUT HELLA BRITNEY SPEARS OBEY ME. 💕

Characters: Raphael, MC, appearances by Solomon and Simeon Raph shows MC his pet. pure fluff! No warnings apply

“Ah, welcome,” Simeon smiled from the doorway of Purgatory Hall. “I heard from Luke that you were coming by. Are you seeking refuge?”

You shuffled your feet, ducking your head as shame prickled the nape of your neck. “How did you know?”

His eyes squinted, that pretty jingle of his laugh filling the air between you. “I think I can see smoke coming in the direction of the House of Lamentation.” 

“Oh. Yeah, you see…” Where did you even begin to explain the domino effect that had happened this time?

“No need,” Simeon came to your rescue, gentle gaze oozing sympathy. “I know those brothers well enough to surmise what happened.”

When you winced something akin to an agreement, he ushered you inside, sheltering you from the occasionally overwhelming presence of your favorite brothers. As you toed your shoes off in the entrance, the scent of Simeon’s cooking washed over you. You may as well have turned into a cartoon caricature of yourself, floating towards the delightful smell in the kitchen. 

“Luke and I are making lunch.” As if he even had to clarify. He did, however, add, “but you’ll find Solomon and Raphael in the living room,” which was basically Simeon for don’t bother trying to help.

Making the familiar turns throughout the first floor, you lifted a hand to wave at Solomon and Raphael, only to drop it to your side when you found them. The two men stood side by side, folding laundry. Or, more like Solomon was hauling clothes out of a basket, molding them into a roughly square shape, and placing them on the coffee table… Just to have Raphael re-fold them right beneath his nose, with piercing eye contact. 

You watched for a few seconds before making your presence known. There was a twinkle in Solomon’s eyes, a twitch to his neutral lips that had you wondering if he was intentionally ruffling the angel’s - currently withdrawn - feathers. 

Solomon’s amusement was lost on Raphael. You were certain you could see the cogs whirring in his brain beneath his ashy hair. The crease of his brow told you he had absolutely no idea how Solomon could be so bad at laundry. 

“Hi,” You broke through the silence, putting on your cheeriest smile, “How is my favorite Purgatory Hall resident today?”

As you saw the confusion give way to suspicion in their twin looks of surprise, you considered that perhaps you, like Solomon, also liked to stir the pot. It was funny, how they both straightened their spines, puffed out their chests, sized the other up while simultaneously pretending to be unbothered. Subtle peacocking, in a way. 

You would do the same to the brothers, but… Well, then you would just end up at Purgatory Hall once more, wouldn’t you? Such a taunt was sure to start another fire of some sort between the Rulers of the Underworld. 

“Well, if it isn’t my adorable apprentice,” Solomon beamed, reaching behind the laundry basket to procure a bowl of pastries. “Can I interest you in a macaroon?”

“Did you make them?” You eyed the fluffy cookies. They did look good…

“Of course!”

Never mind.

“Ah, sorry Sol, I ate before coming here and I’m stuffed.” You lied. Thankfully, Raphael’s malfunctioning tastebuds saved you from further scrutiny. He lit up like the heavens above, blue gaze sparkling like sapphires as he snagged one of the sweets.

“Truly delicious, Solomon.” Despite his praise, Raphael remained as stoic as ever. Only the slightest glimmer of joy dancing in his eyes gave away his genuine gratitude. “I must get your recipe. Michael is so fond of sweets.” 

“I’ll make sure to bake him a special batch at the end of the semester,” Solomon preened beneath the compliment, “You could send him my regards.”

And just like that, the angel’s guard flew back up, an expression edging confusion finding solace in your hum of surprise. What on earth - er, the three realms? - did Solomon want to send regards to archangel Michael for? 

As Solomon turned back to the laundry, excusing himself by claiming he had to retrieve another load from the dryer, Raphael eyed you with unveiled curiosity. You shrunk under the intensity of his stare. It wasn’t often you found yourself alone with the latest exchange student from the Celestial Realm, and you weren’t sure you would ever get used to the way he watched you so carefully. Though he rarely voiced his thoughts, his stare had a certain weight to it. One that told you that he was questioning every flex of your fingers, every slope of your lips, every shift of your limbs. Why he found you so interesting, you weren’t sure. 

As for you… Of course you found him interesting! Luke had said it himself - Raphael was the youngest angel to ever be given the rank of seraph! He was quiet and mysterious and so very guarded. You never knew just what he was thinking at any time. You could examine him for hours and you were certain boredom would elude you.

In fact, you were about to find out who would win a casual staring contest between the two of you. Almost taken aback by your confidence, there was a split second where you thought he was going to cave, his jaw clenching and his lips pursing in a pout you almost considered petulant. But then, he steeled his resolve, doubled back with a burning question in his gaze.

You had no answer for his silent inquisition, but you felt scorched regardless. 

“Hey,” He blinked slowly, forfeiting. “Do you want to see my spears?”

“Actually…” You were answering before you even knew what you were going to say. “Yeah, I do.”

“Come with me,” He nodded curtly, exiting the living room with little warning. 

Nearly tripping over your feet in your haste, you raced after him, the flutter of his Celestial Realm clothes a flash of ivory turning a corner. Your heart thudding in your chest, you felt your anticipation growing with each step. You had heard so much about his rain of spears! The terrifying display of violence that struck fear into even Belphegor’s heart!

And so, you were completely flabbergasted when Raphael spun around from the corner of his temporary bedroom, brandishing… not a weapon. 

You almost considered it anticlimactic, but the disappointment lingered for less than a second. Your brain’s buffering complete, it reached a very reasonably enthusiastic conclusion: Raphael was cradling a hedgehog. Not just any hedgehog, but a shadow hedgehog native to the Devildom. Its charcoal quills quivering under your awestruck gaze, you hit the brakes on your excitement, your index finger hovering an inch away from its curious nose.

“Can I pet it?” You whispered, even though no one had told you to keep quiet.

“He likes when you rub his forehead,” Raphael matched your volume, lifting the little mammal closer to your face.

Sure enough, the shadow hedgehog squeaked in delight as you carefully ran the pad of your finger up his nose to the patch of fur between his ears. “Is… Is his name Spears?”

Raphael looked at you incredulously, as if the answer was obvious. “His back is made of a thousand spears.”

To accentuate his point, he gently stroked the needles laid flat over Spears’s back. You smiled, “Shadow hedgehogs are known to inflate like pufferfish when they feel threatened.”

Raphael regarded you with a stern frown, “I would never harm Spears.” 

“No!” You squawked, startling the hedgehog. He hissed softly, nuzzling into Raphael’s thumb for reassurance. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

A pensive hesitance fogged those sapphire eyes. Cradling his pet close to his chest, he seemed to calculate the potential risks in his head before offering, “Would you like to hold him?”

Did you ever! Your hands shaking, you extended them towards Spears, your palms pressed together in a makeshift platform. “Okay…”

It tickled, the way his little paws scurried across your skin. His nose - wet and cold - nudged against the base of your thumb, his miniature spears raising in apprehension until he deemed your hands safe. Then, he sat still and allowed you to marvel at his pristine quills and beady onyx eyes. He was an awfully cute hedgehog. 

“You know, in the human world, there’s a musician named Britney Spears.” You weren’t entirely sure why you were bringing up the pop star. You were positive she was not to Raphael’s liking. 

“Are they any good?”

You sidestepped. “They’re iconic.”

His silence seemed louder this time, his lips twisted into the smallest frown as he watched his pet tentatively lick at your palms. With a resolute jerk of his head, he decided, “I will allow Britney to be his middle name.”

“Middle name? Like, Spears Britney… Last name?” 

“His first name is Hella.” 

“What?” You blinked. Listen, you led quite a bizarre life. From being yoinked into the Devildom, to nearly dying at the hands of Levi because you lowkey cheated at a quiz show, to actually dying in a different timeline for wanting to hug Belphie, and then to somehow becoming the apprentice of the world’s strongest sorcerer. And yet, this hedgehog’s name managed to be the oddest thing you had heard yet.

Raphael shrugged, “Solomon assures me it is a name for only the most honorable warriors in the human world.”

Your lips curled inwards, sucked by the force of your inhale. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.

Still, your voice wavered with amusement. “Hella…Britney Spears, the shadow hedgehog.”

“Yes,” Raphael confirmed, pride overwhelming his gaze as he gently took the little mammal from your hands. “The best around.”

The glint in his eye told you that arguing would only end in a rain of actual spears. All you could do was nod, thank him for sharing a piece of his life with you, and echo, “The best around.”

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜

My requests are open! Find out more HERE. Banner by the incredible @4laurus, Beel fan extraordinaire.

ALSO HERE IS HELLA BRITNEY SPEARS OBEY ME.