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Tristan felt lighter in his steps, having gotten the words off his chest. He was the type to fall hard and fast and he had been keeping it in for a long time, long enough for him to have spilled the words open in desperation. But, he didn't regret them as Sara was still with him and on his arm.

When they reached his apartment he went towards the kitchen to grab the bottle of wine and two glasses, bringing it towards the coffee table where he'd gestured for her to settle first.

"I'm glad we left, it was getting too loud in there anyway."

"i can do a little walk." fingers curled carefully around his, holding tight. not too tight, she doesn't want to seem clingy. but tristan makes her feel safe. in a way that she didn't really know she needed.

"that sounds like the perfect way to end a lovely night." sara spoke gently, walking along side him. as they got a few steps down, she curled a little tighter to his side. not too clingy.

#ch; tristan fawkes #thread; tristan&sara #libraryofdesire #q

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Aziraphale's arms circled Crowley's middle, squeezing tightly, as he turned his head to bury into the soft crimson locks that cascaded down his demon's shoulders. Joyful tears had rolled down his cheeks and he let out a happy chuckle, it seemed silly to cry at a time like that - but he was so overcome with emotion he knew no other way to express himself.

"I think it has taken us quite long enough to realise that." He smiled and began peppering kisses to her cheek, her nose and onto her forehead. Wherever there was a surface to kiss whilst he held her close, he kissed.

"My beautiful wife, beautiful husband, my beautiful Crowley." He declared proudly.

Crowley's arms wrapped around Aziraphale's shoulders, and she let herself all but collapse against him, trusting he would keep them both upright. It was overwhelming, the amount of love she was feeling. She was almost certain she could feel the love radiating from Aziraphale, too, even though demons couldn't sense love the way angels could. Then again, they had never been typical for their kinds; if she were to learn that she was so attuned to her angel that she could feel his love like that, it would hardly be shocking.

"And you're mine," Crowley held Aziraphale's face with just the gentle tips of her fingers, handling him like glass, like something priceless and precious. "It's always been only you for me."

#ch; aziraphale #thread; aziraphale&crowley 04 #ourcwnside

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"Yeah, I suppose. Sorry, I've been freelance for so long, I forgot how holidays work." He admitted sheepishly, though truth be told he was so overcome with excitement he couldn't think. To go from long stints without each other to going on a trip together? Well, that was exactly what he needed, exactly what they needed.

"Doing anything with you sounds nice, darling." He had threaded his fingers through hers. "But I've not been before. I do love wine too. Sounds perfect." He grinned, bringing one of her hands up for a soft kiss on her knuckles. "Do you want a glass now? Or are you hungry? We could do dinner. Both, in fact." He was getting more chipper by the moment, happy they ironed everything out and were back to just how good it was.

"You're welcome, my love," she said softly in response. She wanted him to know that she was always going to reassure him and love him despite what crossed his mind when she wasn't by his side all the time. Destiny felt a different kind of warmth when she was with Tristan, a warmth she had never experienced before. That alone was one of the reasons why she was sure that he was her person. "I'm entitled to it, sweet face. I just wasn't sure when to use my vacation time." She mused, the nickname rolling off her tongue easily. It was just one of the many that slipped from her mouth. Her hands squeezed his comfortingly, nodding along at his words. "Why don't we see if we can do somethin' out in wine country? They have some cute little rental places. Doesn't snugglin' up near a fire sound nice?" They didn't live all that far from the countryside and vineyards but it was always peaceful out there.

#ch; tristan fawkes #thread; tristan&destiny #ncrlcnds #//pls tristan would love all the pet names #//he'll be like 'me? <3' #q

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A shiver crawled over his entire body at the way the demon had praised him. His toes curled and fingers gripped tighter. It was something he knew he could get used to alarmingly quickly. To want to be told how lovely he was at the whims of a demon... or rather, not just any demon - this demon.

Aziraphale let out a small whimper as Crowley started to move his hips, feeling their bodies brushing against one another's, he dug his heels into his back to bring him back close and deep within him before he slid out once more. His leg was shifted and somehow the demon was deeper within him and a guttural moan crawled out of his throat. "That's good, that's so good." His body was moving steadily on the mattress every time Crowley rolled his hips and it was a gorgeous, beautiful rhythm. He had tried his hardest to keep his gaze on the demon but soon he had no choice but to close his eyes and simply revel in the notions, wanting to live and die in the sensations.

Crowley wondered briefly if Aziraphale was always so responsive, so vocal, or if it was something about him that made the angel behave this way. He knew what he wanted the answer to be, but that seemed something better left unexamined, even by himself. Not that he would have been able to give it much attention anyway; every thought in his head was of the angel underneath him. A pleasant shudder ran down his spine at the feeling of teeth against his skin.

"You sound so lovely when you beg, angel," the demon teased, drawing the very tip of his tongue up along the very edge of Aziraphale's ear.

He started slowly, though not as slowly as he had entered. A shallow rocking of his hips, enough to finally give them both a bit of what they'd been craving while still letting Aziraphale adjust to him. The hand not on Aziraphale's hip ran up and down the length of his thigh before hooking underneath it, gripping tightly as he picked up his pace just a bit.

#ch; aziraphale #thread; aziraphale&crowley 05 #ourcwnside

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Aziraphale persisted eyes closed with his mouth wide open, practically swallowing Crowley whole as his fingers swam circles around his core. He adored the fragmented words mixed with breathy moans and needy whines. He knew his lover well enough to know he was about to unravel beneath him, so beautiful and impassioned.

His eyes snapped open just as Crowley's head was tossed back into the pile of pillows and something felt different beneath him. Love often radiated from his beloved demon, especially when he reached his crescendo, but this was unlike the other times. There was a lovely ebb and flow to it like waves crashing to a shore. He left a few far more gentle and chaste kisses between Crowley's legs as the tide receded.

He maneuvered himself up the bed so he could lay on his side, facing his lover. "So beautiful." He cooed as he reached a hand out to stroke his face with adoration in his eyes. "Was that alright?" It had been quite some time since he had experience with his particular effort, but he wanted to do his absolute best, wanting to know if he was properly fulfilled before he even dealt with his own aching erection.

The hand not tangled in Aziraphale's hair moved to grip the sheets at Crowley's side. The more Crowley unraveled beneath his angel's loving attention, the more vocal he became, a steady stream of yeses and pleases and angels and love yous mixed in with his panting and moaning. He was close, it was building, and then---

In the time they had been together, really together, Aziraphale had brought him to his peak plenty of times. This, though, was different. The demon's head snapped back with a moan, and his entire body trembled, the feeling inside of him calling to mind the gorgeous explosion of light and stars from his nebula the day they'd first met.

A boneless feeling of satisfaction washed over him, and the hand in Aziraphale's hair loosened to simply stroke the soft curls he so adored. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Crowley managed at last to push himself back up with his elbow and meet Aziraphale's eyes with a love-drunk gaze.

#ch; aziraphale #thread; aziraphale&crowley 08 #ourcwnside

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Aziraphale kept an eye on Crowley wading through the crowd. It was a rather busy night and the band was booming. It was quite the rukus but the angel was in good spirits, as did the groups of humans around her. Even in her heeled boots she wasn't particularly tall, so she had to hold her hand up to give the bartenders a little wave to get their attention, and even then she was somehow still being ignored. She let out a little humph. And the man beside her seemed to notice.

"Hiya sweetheart, d'you want a drink?" He had turned to her and Aziraphale met his gaze.

"I do, not for want of trying. It appears quite busy tonight." She lamented, crossing her arms before her upon the bar.

"Let me get it for you, yeah?"

Aziraphale beamed, "Oh, thank you." She nodded gratefully. "Two Manhattans if you can catch their attention first?" At least someone was being helpful. She thought to herself, not quite noticing as the man had hooped his arm around the angel, hand placed on the bar to cage her in. Aziraphale hadn't noticed as she was on her tip-toes and pressed close to the bar top, still eagerly trying to attempt to get a bartender's attention.

Crowley had watched Aziraphale eat a great many times over the years. She liked seeing the angel happy, and she liked it even more considering she had been the one to first get her to try food in the first place. And of course, she took a particular type of enjoyment in Aziraphale's enjoyment; the little moans, the sighs, the blissful expressions, the way sometimes the tip of a pink tongue would slide across the silverware---

But Crowley had never actually fed anything to Aziraphale before. So when Aziraphale had leaned over to take the cocktail stick into her mouth without first taking it from the demon's hand, it was a wonder Crowley didn't somehow discorporate on the spot. Did she do that on purpose? No, that was ridiculous. She was an angel, after all, she wouldn't be flirting with a demon, especially not so suggestively.

"Another drink. Yeah. Sure." Crowley answered, words tumbling out quickly, and she didn't wait one second longer before slipping into the crowd to make a beeline for the open booth. Now that she wasn't under the angel's eyes, she hastily finished off her first drink, hoping to get the flush out of her face by the time her companion joined her.

#ch; aziraphale #thread; aziraphale&crowley 06 #ourcwnside #//oh nO NOT ME PUTTING AZIRAPHALE IN SHENANIGANS

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Were the angel thinking logically, he would have assumed Crawley was lying about not knowing Hell's plans. After all, demons lied. Yet, he was inclined to believe him. They had known each other before his Fall, surely he hadn't changed that much.

Aziraphale turned at the question back at him. For an outsider Crawley's voice perhaps sounded mean-spirited, but he felt none of it, merely it felt like the tone of voice someone familiar and even friendly would use whilst teasing. "Well, as I said - you would easily be thwarted should you try anything." He managed to bat the ball back into his court with a whisper of a smile at the corners of his lips. "I wasn't given particularly clear instructions either." He relented. "Though I suppose it's all part of Her plan. Ineffable, one might say."

For as long as Crawley could remember, all the way back to their first meeting, there had been an endearing awkwardness to Aziraphale. Though he supposed he oughtn't think of it that way anymore, should he? Angels weren't meant to be seen as endearing to demons...

But then again, angels also weren't meant to sit with them and make small talk. So Crawley wasn't the only one bending the rules here. He wouldn't tell if Aziraphale didn't.

"Not sure yet," the demon answered candidly, leaning back on his hands and swinging one dangling leg. "Just supposed to make trouble, they didn't really give me any clearer instructions than that."

He'd think of something. Probably to do with that one off-limits tree in the middle of the Garden. But he was in no rush; the faster he did his job, the sooner he feared they'd call him back down, and he was in no hurry to slither back there.

"What about you though, O Guardian of the Eastern Gate?" There was a teasing note in his voice, though a strangely good-natured one. "What are you supposed to be guarding against? There's nothing outside to worry about getting in. And if the answer is demons, well, obviously, that hasn't worked out, has it?"

#ch; aziraphale #thread; aziraphale&crawley #ourcwnside #//I did The Thing

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"Hm," he glanced up at the ornate clock at his bedside, "yes, morning now." Though the sun hadn't quite come up yet. He paid it no mind though as he continued stroking his hair gently. He supposed it really ought not have been something he should have prodded. Crowley didn't show signs of being in pain and the scars, while nasty, did not look recent. Aziraphale ought to have let it lie like his demon, but the love and care bubbling within him was curious.

"Yes...I mean, no." He pursed his lips. "I couldn't help but notice something, but if I am prying please just let me know and I shan't bring it up until you wish to talk about it." He prefaced, waffling a little but he often did when he was nervous. "The soles of your feet..." He simply trailed off, not exactly knowing what to ask. What happened? Why haven't they healed? What was it? Were you hurt? Are you hurt still?

As was often the case, Crowley had slipped easily into sleep. Maybe even more easily than usual, surrounded as he was by the comforting energy of the angel. His sleep was deep and dreamless, the first really good sleep he had had since losing his flat.

The sliver of light pouring in from the open door was hardly enough to rouse the demon, but his subconscious seemed aware that Aziraphale had reentered the room. Crowley stirred where he lay, flat on his stomach, arms under the pillow, even before Aziraphale sat beside him. But it was the gentle hand in his hair that finally coaxed him back to consciousness.

"Morning," Crowley gave his angel a sleepy smile. "Or whatever time it is. Dunno how long I've been asleep."

It was then he noticed a look of concern on Aziraphale's face, and he reached out to rest a hand on his knee. Things had seemed perfectly fine when he'd gone to bed, what could have happened in the time since to make Aziraphale look so perturbed?

"Everything alright?"

#ch; aziraphale #thread; aziraphale&crowley 07 #ourcwnside

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"I'm annoyingly right most of the time - it's why you're my friend." He retorted cheekily, glad he at least made Ben smile in the shittiness of the situation. "I can help you look for one. There's on overwhelming amount of resources online - I have a few good directories and such." Tristan had always been open with his own visits to therapists, even if naturally he wasn't good at keeping on top of it.

"No, you're right, I would have held you hostage, but this way you're coming willingly, which is far less work for me. I had the rope and duct tape ready though, just in case." He joked.

Eventually they pulled up to his apartment building and made their way up to his floor. "What are you feeling? Chinese? Mexican? Thai?" He wondered aloud as he opened up the door to his apartment, Ben had been there enough times to simply make himself at home.

Ben hated being vulnerable with people, this was something he had been carrying around for a long time now. His 20's had been taken over by raising his sisters after his mom died, and now he didn't know who he was. He hadn't those wild 20's to find himself and mess everything up. He'd had to be a grown up and take care of others, now his sisters had moved to college he was completely lost.

He felt somewhat reassured when Tristan said he felt lost a lot of the time as well. He laughed slightly at his comment about being a brilliant friend, and it was true. He was. He was there for Ben no matter what. "Yeah, annoyingly you're right." Ben murmured, seeing a therapist was something he needed, because if he kept going this way he was going to self destruct. He knew it wasn't a smart idea to be alone right now. "Yeah that would be good. I know you won't take any other answer anyway, and even if i went home you would insist on staying."

#ch; tristan fawkes #thread; tristan&ben h #scinglives #q

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Good Omens | 2.05 The Ball

#mirror;crowley #mirror;napier

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Broadchurch | 1.06

#mirror;kenneth #oh u grumpy guts

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The tugging at his hair simply spurred the angel to continue with eyes closed in concentration, mouth wide open, his tongue licking and fucking the demon's slit salaciously. His thumb continued to circle, continuing the steady but messy rhythm between Crowley's legs.

He merely hummed in response to his beloved demon's plea. No singular part of him had the intention of stopping at all, even if his jaw started to feel an ache. It was a beautiful pain he was happy to endure in exchange for the unbridled joy of the one he loved beneath him.

He opened his eyes once more, gaze on the beautiful contorted face as he coaxed him closer, closer. He wanted Crowley to entirely unwind at his hands and lips, until all his thoughts were of him and him only.

Crowley swore in a trembling voice, unable to hold himself up to keep his eyes on Aziraphale anymore. Long fingers buried themselves in pale curls, his other hand moving to his own chest, missing the added stimulation from his angel's touch there but unwilling to ask him to pull that hand from between his legs. A throaty moan rumbled up from inside of him, and the hand in Aziraphale's hair stroked encouragingly, entreatingly.

"Don't stop, angel, please don't stop..." He hadn't wanted to beg too early, but it hadn't taken long for that pride to erode---it never did when they were together like this. For all he might claim otherwise, the demon had always been putty in his angel's hands.

From lower down on the mattress, he could feel the shifting of Aziraphale grinding his hips, searching for his own pleasure, and oh, he wanted to give him that. And he would, soon, so soon, he just needed a few moments more...

#ch; aziraphale #thread; aziraphale&crowley 08 #ourcwnside

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The angel let out his loudest, most guttural moan yet as he felt Crowley opening him up. Fingers dug into the hand above his thigh, all sensations of the demon concentrated between his legs stretching him out so wonderfully. If there was any pain or discomfort it was overshadowed by the stars he was seeing in his mind's eye whilst they were closed, head tossed back.

Crowley moved achingly slow, but Aziraphale didn't want to rush him. Every moment was to be savoured when it felt so perfect. Finally, he felt full and he felt skin pressed against his own and a face next to his.

The angel's hands traced up the demon's back as they both simply felt one another. "Yes, yes..." He managed a whisper back, head turning to nip the skin at his neck. "Crowley...please, please I want to feel more." He uttered, legs wrapped around his middle and hands finding a home at his biceps to anchor himself. "Please, more."

Aziraphale barely finished his sentence before Crowley began to push in. More slowly than he wanted to, but he was well aware that there was a chance that Aziraphale's body wasn't as stretched out as it could be, and against every demonic instinct he ought to have, he found himself adamantly thinking I don't want to hurt him.

So he moved slowly, pausing when he felt the need to and continuing again only when he was sure the angel was alright. When he was fully sheathed inside of him, Crowley let his head fall forward onto Aziraphale's shoulder. He was tight, he was warm, he was---

"So good," the demon's praise came out as hardly more than a husky whisper. An open-mouth kissed was pressed to his skin, tongue swiping out as one hand gripped Aziraphale's hip. He repeated, a bit louder this time, "You feel so good, angel."

#ch; aziraphale #thread; aziraphale&crowley 05 #ourcwnside #//no proof reading we die like men (gn)

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It was a horrible attempt at his accent, but nobody ever got it right anyway. "I know you're joking but I am incredibly fragile today and you do not want to see a grown man cry." He was mostly joking, nudging Ben right back under the table.

"Lasagne, my dear, lasagne." He reiterated with a gesture of his wine glass before bringing it to his lips.

Tristan had to roll his eyes. "So typical. No wonder we didn't work out." He teased, not to mention they had gotten on a little too well in the lovely way they always had, they loved each other but it was all rather devastatingly platonic. "Just someone interesting, I suppose. Not too fussed about height, although I've not been with anyone taller than me I don't think. I quite like Pedro Pascal, though. He's a bit of a dream."

"Don't be bloody rude," Ben repeated back in a terrible Scottish accent, giggling to himself quickly after. He figured that since they were in a public place it was pretty likely that Tristan wouldn't try to beat him up here. "Reasonable. Yes. Hm. Yes. An entire lifetime older than me. I could be your child. I could be your grandchild." he continued on cheekily as he playfully nudged his foot against Tristan's under the table.

"I can definitely find you someone. I'm perfect for finding a warm body." Ben said with a small smile, knowing that that wasn't what the other was really looking for. He had to admit he was surprised to see the man actually eat the snail, smirking at his reaction. "Well then I'll let you pick the entree then, hm? Don't dissapoint." he teased as if they hadn't been ranting about the lasagna.

Once his glass was refilled he drank more, humming at the question. "Tom Hardy." he finally nodded. "My height, so I don't have to reach up or anything. But I want him big you know like in the Batman days? I don't even care if he's bald. I could chew on his arm like it's a dog toy." he sighed dramatically. "...and what about you?"

#ch; tristan fawkes #thread; tristan&ben #bluejeanbaby #//eheheh pedro pascal mention #q

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Tristan's mouth had fallen agape, blinking at Nadi's words. "A second one??" He repeated in disbelief, covering his mouth as she continued telling him the scandalous story. "Jesus, that's...I wonder if they knew what was happening, what a minx!" He was going to continue when his wife let him in on more.

He covered his face with both hands as he gasped. "Oh no... oh no oh no oh no." He uttered through his fingers, eyes wide. "Oh noooooo." He shook his head. "She was getting a bit too audacious, wasn't she?" With a shake of his head, he put both hands on Nadi's knees. "What happened? What did the husband say? Was there a fight? Did you see it happen?" Each question came out faster than the last, it was like a soap opera only he was sure nobody could write something so dramatic, surely.

"My love of course I am, you know I'll do whatever I can to help you relax. Especially if it keeps you from working yourself to the breaking point." A smirk tugged at her lips as she nodded. "Oh now that is an offer I can never resist, of course I'll join. It's always more relaxing with you anyways."

A laugh escaped her as she waved her finger at his question. "The other young man is Debra's second boytoy! This woman, in her great mind, has decided that sneaking off to a hotel with one boytoy isn't enough. She needs to do it with two in tow, neither seemingly knowing about the other from what I can tell. It's almost impressive. So she brings one for one night, and the other for two so she can have each for their own specific night. My gosh." She laughed again, reaching to take another sip from the smoothie.

"But here's the kicker . . . her husband showed up." Nadia near giggled in excitement, having been dying to tell Tristan all about it. "Because apparently he'd had someone watching his wife's credit card transactions, and flag any hotel charges. And boy oh boy did he come in like he was charging the fortress walls. This man demanded to know where she was . . . just as miss Debra Thang was walking out of the elevator with Boytoy #1."

#ch; tristan fawkes #thread; tristan&nadia #sideofmischicf #//just a married couple being the town's biggest gossips lmao

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@sideofmischicf

elen raya

#ship; tristan&nadia

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Aziraphale was exhausted. He knew what humans meant when they said they were 'drained', because that what it felt like. He felt like a husk of who he was from everything he had felt all at once. He wasn't entirely sure if he would sleep, but closing his eyes and simply being beside Crowley would be enough for him.

He allowed himself to be brought down to the pillows with Crowley's arms wrapped tightly around him. Though he had never felt him encapsulating him before, it felt like home. It felt like that one feeling he had been craving since he entered the lift to go back up to Heaven.

His heart ached even while he reached up to clutch at his arms. "I...I hope you forgive me."

#ch; aziraphale #thread; aziraphale&crowley 03 #ourcwnside #end; #//reposting for posterity bc I require ur beautiful writing on my blog ty ty #//I love them #//he forgave him goodness