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natalievoncatte · 8 months

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Something, some instinct, told Lena that she wasn’t alone. She wanted to blame it on the whisky, but it was better to check. She grabbed the gun from its hiding place beneath a pillow, where she kept it in case of an intruder.

She wasn’t sure why she did that now; she was, in theory, safe from her greatest enemy. After all, Lena had murdered him in cold blood. She’d killed her own brother for a monstrous lie, and while there was little to mourn -the man he was died years ago by his own hand- it hurt. It hurt so much that the pain squeezed out of every pore, until she awoke in the depths of the night thinking the hot stains on her cheeks might have been from crying blood.

The one person she had truly trusted, respected, revered-

(desired)

-was a lie, an illusion. At least Lex had, at one point, been real.

Lena scouted her apartment. It didn’t occur her to check the balcony until she was about to go to bed. She was on the thirty-sixth floor. No one could get up here.

Kara was outside.

She hasn’t landed; she was hanging in the air with her cape lazily swirling against her legs as she hung in the nighttime breeze. She was far enough away that Lena couldn’t get a read on her.

“What do you want?”

She drifted closer, in that unnerving way she had.

“Hi.”

Lena sighed, and waved a dismissive hand.

“Go away, Supergirl. I’m not in the mood for another speech.”

Lena turned back inside, but stopped when she felt the soft gust of wind. Kara was a few feet away from the balcony now, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

She hated how things had changed when Kara told her. She no longer saw Supergirl, just Kara in a costume. It was impossible not to see her, and yet for three long years she’d done just that. Blinded herself. Refused to see the bitter truth. All she’d ever wanted was a real friend

(lover)

who respected and admired

(and loved and cherished)

her and with whom she could share those feelings, and she’d really thought Kara was it. She was the best friend

(the one)

that Andrea and Jack could never have been. She believed that so deeply.

(she doesn’t want me the way I want her)

“I’m not here to give you a speech.”

Lena looked up sharply.

“Then what? Here to stop me? Foil my evil plans? I’m a villain now, remember.”

Kara’s face turned hard. “Don’t lie to me.”

Lena barked out a bitter laugh, feeling that need rise inside her, that anger. She had lost everything. The love of her mother, the protection of her brother. No matter how wealthy she was, she could never have those back. There was no price for what Lena wanted.

“How dare you say those words to me,” Lena hissed. “You’re the biggest liar I’ve ever met. Everything you’ve ever said to me is a lie.’

“That’s not true.”

“You told me you’d always protect me. Who’ll protect me from you?”

Kara looked away, shuddering as she breathed, or silently sobbing. Lena smiled a thin smile, glad to twist the knife.

(stop it stop it stop it stop hurting her)

“Something happened to me tonight.”

“I don’t care.”

“A fifth-dimensional being came to me and offered to let me change the past. I could change whatever I wanted.”

“I don’t see any changes,” said Lena.

Kara shook her head. “His gifts were all poison. Every time I tried to fix what happened, it turned out wrong. I tried and tried and tried until I realized what was happening.”

“Which is?”

“I was supposed to learn that I can’t just push past my mistakes. I have to own them and accept the consequences. There’s no magic wand that can fix us.”

“There is no us, Kara. We weren’t meant to be.”

“How can you say that?”

Kara drifted closer, sank down so they were face to face with the balcony railing between them.

“How can you say that?”

“It’s obvious. Whatever this was, it wasn’t meant to be. We’re just too different.”

Kara shook her head.

“When I think of all the things that had to happen in order for me to be here right now, it boggles my mind,” said Kara. “Two species from two different galaxies evolved so close together. Just the chances of that happening are incredibly small, and…

“And then my people had to find this world, and Kal-El’s parents had to choose it for their son. This world, this world specifically, and then I had to get stuck in the phantom zone on my way here. All of those things and a billion others all had to happen in perfect, crystalline order just for me to walk into that office and see you.”

Lena has gone still, listening. Kara looked at her so intently, so reverently, that Lena felt something strain inside her, stretch against itself to the point of breaking. It took all her many years of carefully honed composure to keep herself still.

“Every moment I had with you was a gift. Every single one. There are times when… there are times when I think that if I could somehow have saved Krypton, I don’t know if I could, because it would mean losing you. I don’t know if that’s a choice I could make and I don’t know what that means.”

“That’s lovely,” Lena said, trying and brutally failing to keep her voice from cracking, “but it doesn’t change anything.”

Kara let out a soft, choked sound.

“I know that. I know I ruined everything and I can’t fix it. I just needed to say this because it needed to be said. I’m not here to ask you to forgive me. I’m here to ask you to forgive yourself.”

“Oh, please.”

“I can’t stop you.”

Lena blinked. “What?”

“I can’t stop you. I can’t fight you. I know that now. It doesn’t matter what you do, I won’t ever hurt you again. I don’t want to confront what that means.”

“That’s rich, considering that the last time we had one of these chats, your sister pointed an orbital fusion canon at my head.”

“If she’d fired that thing,” said Kara, “there would be no more satellite, and no more DEO. I would shatter the foundations and pull down the walls. I would rain destruction on whoever hurt you. I’ve seen what happens to me when something happens to you. I never want to see it again.”

Lena leaned on the railing. “Go away.”

“What you have planned, you need to stop. I can’t stop you, and if I can’t, no one can. Please, Lena. I’m begging you, don’t do this. Don’t become someone you’ll hate just to hurt me. I’m not worth it.”

“Not everything is about you, Supergirl.”

“Please. Don’t take away everyone’s choice. I know what that’s like.”

“Oh?”

Kara nodded, and in the moonlight, her tears sparkled on her skin. “On Krypton, we were assigned to guilds as children. We had arranged marriages. Everything about our lives was planned from birth. Here, people have so much choice. Yes, they make mistakes, but people choose life and art and love. You can’t take that away over me.”

“It’s too late,” Lena said, her voice cracking, finally. “I’m doing it and if you won’t stand in my way, it’ll be done.”

Kara took a deep breath.

“Okay. I guess I should go.”

Lena rocked back.

“What? No. I’m going through with the plan.”

“I know. I won’t fight you.”

Kara turned, about to rocket off into the sky.

“You can’t just leave!” Lena screamed, her voice ragged from liquor and tears.

Kara stopped.

“You’re supposed to fight me. You’re supposed to yell at me and tell me the truth, that you knew I was a monster all along, that you were just staying close to me to watch me, to get to Lex. You’re supposed to fight me! You’re supposed to fight me!”

“No.”

Lena let out an incoherent scream and balled her hands into fists, meaning to slam them on the balcony, but they struck the implacable flesh of Kara’s chest. Powerful arms gathered around Lena, sheltering her from the nighttime chill and the voiceless judgment of distant stars.

“I won’t ever hurt you again,” Kara murmured. “I promise. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you for what I’ve done.”

“Why?” Lena whimpered. “Why won’t you just fight back?”

“Because you’re just like me. We’ve both lost so much. We both don’t want to see anyone else die.”

Lena should have shoved her away, demanded to be set free, screamed, protested, shoved. Instead her arms wound around Kara, drawn as if by gravity, and Kara’s gentle fingers began to stroke through her hair, her warm breath on the crown of Lena’s head.

“Come back to our life, Lena. To our friends. Come home.”

“I killed my big brother.”

“I know. I failed you both. I’m Supergirl. I’m supposed to find another way, a perfect solution.”

“I had to. He’d never have let you live if he knew how I f…”

Lena caught herself as the last moment.

It was Kara who sobbed now, her entire body shuddering. So much power with so much tenderness, her vast crushing strength kept at bay as she held Lena like one of the most precious of treasures.

“In one of the timelines that Mxy showed me, you… you told me how you felt as you were dying. I saw you die so many times, I can’t do it again.”

Lena tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry.

“I didn’t get to tell you before you died. I was scared. I never thought you’d want me like I want you.”

Lena went stock still, feeling Kara’s shuddering breath against her as she held her own. She couldn’t look up, afraid that if she did, this would be a cruel nightmare and she’d jolt awake in an empty bed and a penthouse full of bitter memories.

“Kara,” Lena began, finally. “Kara, what are you saying? What do you mean?”

“It’s so hard to say,” Kara sighed, and then, almost to herself, “even if I don’t have much left to lose.”

“Say it.”

“I love you.”

Lena’s heart soared, and a harsh sob exploded out of her. She’d dreamed of those words, longed for them, needed to hear them. So many times, Lena had almost let herself believe it.

“I want this to be real,” said Lena. “I just don’t know if I can forgive you, Kara. It hurt so much.”

“Can we try?” said Kara. “Can we give it a chance? Can you give me a chance?”

Lena finally looked up, and when she saw those tear-stained blue eyes filled in equal measure with terror and hope, she knew.

“Yes,” she said, simply.

Lena looked behind her, and was suddenly full of revulsion and regret. She hated this place.

“Can you take me back to your loft?”

Kara lifted her easily into a bridal carry and into the sky.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #they’re soulmates but idiots about it #idiots in love #5x13 #It’s a Super Life #fix it #fix fic #self indulgence #angsty fluff

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honeyhhearted · 9 months

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Sweet Dreams

Read on AO3

Warnings: Health Anxiety, Depression, Mentions of Illness (No one is sick, reader just suffers from severe anxiety)

Relationship: Loki/Reader

Summary:

You can't sleep (again).

You're afraid of burdening Loki, so you try to face it alone, when he catches you on one of your sleepless nights.

A/N:

Another fluff short for you <3

I personally really struggle with health anxiety/mild hypochondria, so this one is partially for me too.

You couldn’t sleep again.

When you got out of bed, eyes stinging, neck aching, you sighed to yourself. You hadn’t been able to get any sleep for the last few weeks. Nights spent staring into your phone until 3AM, watching the sun rise and dragging yourself out of bed every day were starting to wear you down. You were sluggish, shoulders drooping, dark circles beneath your eyes.

The sounds of the night kept you company.

You padded quietly down the hallway, doing your best not to wake Loki. You didn’t want to worry him. Part of you knew that you should tell him. He could probably help you, you thought. But something in you tightened at the thought of inconveniencing him. He had a difficult enough time sleeping as it is, without you waking him in the dead of night. You didn’t want to become a burden more than you already were.

Night time was when anxiety plagued you the worst. Its spindly tendrils wrapped themselves around your chest, squeezing every time you dared to close your eyes. What if someone broke in, and you couldn’t stop them? What if they hurt you? What if they hurt him?

Every ache and pain in your body scared you. Sometimes it felt like you were afraid of yourself. You couldn’t let yourself sleep out of fear that you just…wouldn’t wake up. You couldn’t sleep beside Loki without worrying that the usually comforting sound of his even breaths would stop in the middle of the night.

During the day, he would catch you staring too long at a bruise, a scratch. Logically you knew where it would come from. You were incredibly clumsy, prone to bumping into things constantly. But when you could see it, when you stared at the lumps and bumps on your body long enough, you could convince yourself otherwise. Those were the moments he would comfort you, waving a hand over you before telling you, for the eighth time that day, that you were fine.

“Sweetling,” He would say, gently every time, “I promise that you are in good health. What is worrying you so much?”

You always felt a rush of shame. He was so patient, so kind to you, even on the days where he’d have to tell you ten, twelve, times, and his brow would furrow and lips would purse at your fear.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered back. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

So, you stayed awake. Tossing and turning in bed until he drifted off to sleep beside you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling until your eyes burned and your battery drained. Then you’d get up at 3AM, like clockwork. You’d walk through your home, listening to the soft sounds of crickets outside. You’d sit in the kitchen, coffee prepared in the fridge in advance so the sounds of you rustling around wouldn’t wake Loki.

You sighed. Your head throbbed constantly from exhaustion, and your hands shook. As you sat, sipping your coffee, you felt your eyes begin to water. You were so tired.

It was beginning to take a mental toll on you, the lack of sleep. You were more irritable, snapping at Loki over what you used to laugh about. You knew he deserved better, and you hated yourself when you saw the confusion in his eyes at your poor moods. You just felt so terrible, all the time, and you didn’t know what to do anymore.

Some days, you considered just leaving. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, and you didn’t want to keep dragging him down with you. But the thought of doing so made your stomach clench. So, selfishly, you stayed.

Thor had recommended you see someone. You knew you should. But you just…couldn’t. He approached you hesitantly, some weeks ago, the way someone would a feral animal. He looked so uncomfortable it almost made you laugh to think about, as it was such an out of place look on him.

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he said, awkwardly, “But, sister, are you well? You have been looking…I apologize for my bluntness, overtired. You do not seem physically ill. Has something happened?”

You smiled at him, heart warming at his care for you. The two of you had always been close, but had grown even closer when you started dating his brother. He treated you like a sister, protective and sweet. Your smile faded quickly, though, at his question. You didn’t want to get into it, not when you knew he’d likely tell Loki. You didn’t want to make either of them worry about you - at least not more than they clearly already were.

“I’m okay, Thor, it’s just…I’m just in my own head, I think. That’s all.” Was what you came up with.

He didn’t seem to believe you, but didn’t push it. You were thankful for that. “If you say so. Might I recommend those Midgardian mind healers? Jane regularly attends one.” He looked sheepish. “Don’t tell her I told you. But, I believe it is for moments when you are ‘in your own head’, as you put it.”

You sighed. “I know. I’ll think about it.”

That was weeks ago. You had a tab open to Google, the search “therapists near me” opened on it. It taunted you, most nights. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Darling?” A raspy, sleep-filled voice came from behind you. You whipped around, trying to blink away your tears. Loki stood in the entryway to the kitchen, eyes bleary as he looked at you. He was paler than normal, a frown firmly pasted on his face. Your heart thumped. Even half awake, you still found him so beautiful.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” You asked, making your way over to him.

He wrapped his arms around you, breathing you in. You felt your shoulders relax. He always made you feel better, the familiar scent of spice and pine surrounding you as you listened to the strong sound of his heart.

“I woke, and you were not there.” He said. “I dreamt you were gone, and when I woke, you were.”

Guilt squeezed your stomach. Loki’s nightmares were not frequent, but when he had them they would typically revolve around you. You hurt, missing, dead…those nights were the ones he woke, a horrified noise ripping its way out of his throat, his hands shaking, skin pale. He always reached for you, hugging you to him like a lifeline. You felt terrible that you were not there for him.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” You said, your voice muffled into his chest.

“Why are you out here? It is late.” He pressed a kiss to your head before leaning back to look at you.

You hesitated. “I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“I…didn’t want to bother you.” You bit your lip, looking down.

“My love.” His voice was stern, yet gentle. “You are never bothering me. Do you hear me? If you need me, I am here. Always.” He paused, taking in your haggard appearance. “How long has this been happening?”

Tears welled in your eyes. Guilt and shame stabbed through your throat as a sob burst out of you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” You sobbed, fisting his shirt in your hands. “I didn’t want to worry you, or burden you, or make you take care of me-” You inhaled sharply, the pain in your head worsening as you cried. “I just don’t feel good and I’m scared, please don’t be mad at me I’m sorry I didn’t mean to lie to you -” Loki shushed you, cradling your head to his chest as your whole body quivered.

“My love, my love,” He said to you, rocking slightly. “I am so sorry you have dealt with this alone. I am sorry I did not notice sooner. I am not mad, I could never be mad at you for doing what you thought was a good thing. You are not a burden, darling, you never have been a burden. It is an honor and a privilege to take care of you every day. Every day I spend making you happy is the greatest thing I can do.”

You sobbed harder, squeezing him. “I just - I didn’t want to become a chore, I didn’t want you to resent me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just so tired.”

He shushed you again, softly, before lifting you in his arms. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as he walked you both back to your bedroom.

He laid you in bed gently before summoning a glass of water for you, placing it on your bedside table, and crawling under the covers. He held you as you calmed yourself, pressing kisses all over your face and whispering gentle affirmations to you. He wiped your tears with a sweet softness, massaged your scalp in a way you’d always found comforting, kissed your fingertips. When you caught your breath, you looked up at him through wet eyelashes.

“I think I need to talk to someone.” You said.

He smiled sadly at you. “Thor told me that he recommended a mind healer for you. They are called therapists on Midgard, yes?”

You nodded. “I was too scared to go.”

He kissed the tip of your nose. “I will be with you every step of the way, my sweet love. There is nothing to be afraid of, and if there is, I will be with you.”

You pressed yourself close to him, burying your head into his cool neck as his arms circled you.

“I love you, Loki,” you said quietly.

“And I love you, so much,” He replied.

He began to sing to you, an Asgardian lullaby you had heard many times, but never deciphered. The rhythmic motion of his hands running up and down your back soothed you, as your eyes drooped and you finally drifted off to sleep.

It was the sweetest sleep you’d had in weeks.

#fanfiction #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #loki/reader #loki fluff #emotional hurt/comfort #tw health anxiety #health anxiety #hypochondria #tw anxiety #tw depression #nightmares #one shot #angsty fluff

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ericityyy · 6 months

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Hi :D I was wondering if we could have a georgie cooper x reader where the reader comes from a family of pagans so they’re perceived as kinda freakish by most of the town and georgie develops a crush on her?

please, and thank you

𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘈 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘧𝘴, 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵? 𝘖𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤?

𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚: 𝘖𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘈𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵

𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2,552

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

“Hi, I know we’re not close, but would you like to come to my birthday this Saturday?"

The girl who was asked looked at her friends while trying to stifle their laughter. “I’m sorry, I would love to, but I can't,” the girl finally said before walking out with her friends, laughing on the way.

"Oh, uhm, that’s okay.” Y/N sighed sadly when she crossed out another name on her list, looking at all the other crossed-out names. “I guess it’s just me again.” The girl smiled bitterly while deciding to sit on the stairs, observing how students come and go from room to room.

The bell rang, and all the students, one by one, went their own way. The girl, after seeing the last student go inside a classroom, waited for a minute or two before going to her own subject.

"Ah, Ms. L/N, care to explain why you’re late today?” Miss Ingram, the math teacher of Medford High School, paused with her writing and turned her full focus on the girl who just entered, making the other students turn their attention as well to the girl.

Y/N was about to answer before she was cut off by one of the football players of the school, “Maybe she was doing her voodoo freakshow to make us like her.” The class laughed except the Cooper brothers, one because he did not get the joke, while the other because the ‘joke’ was not funny.

“What do you mean by making us like her?” The girl that Y/N invited earlier frowned at the jock as she turned her attention once again to the standing girl. “It clearly didn’t work.”

Ms. Ingram pointed at the students angrily, “You better shut all your mouths before I make you all go to the principal’s office.” Least to say, they ignored her.

Y/N, too embarrassed to move, stayed in her position with tears gathering up in her eyes. “Oh no! Careful! You’re going to make her angry and take revenge on us!” The same girl pretended to act scared and put the back of her hand on her forehead, causing more laughter to erupt from the class.

A loud screech from a chair made the laughter stop as Georgie stood up and approached the embarrassed and humiliated girl. Offering her a napkin from his pocket and smiling softly at her.

Y/N is surprised, to say the least. Her glossy eyes looked at him with confusion and shock. No one has ever been nice to her at school before. Heck, no one has been nice to her during her, period. With the exception of her family, of course, and some old neighbors of theirs, but that was it.

Georgie then looked at the class with fury in his eyes and said, “Anybody wants to say something else?” No one answered for a minute when Sheldon raised his hand. The older Cooper boy rolled his eyes at his little brother and said, “Not now, Sheldon.” The said boy looked flabbergasted at first before slowly lowering his hand down.

“Ms. Ingram, if it’s okay, I’d like to take Y/N out of the class for a moment," Georgie politely asked the teacher, who smiled sympathetically at the girl.

Sympathy. Not many like to be pitied, but this moment brings comfort to Y/N to think that somebody actually cared enough to feel sympathy for her.

“Go ahead, Georgie.” The teacher then turned her eyes back to the class. “While I will bring some students on a field trip to the principal’s office myself, how does that sound?” Ms. Ingram smiled wickedly at the now cowering students.

While Sheldon smiled excitedly, “Oh boy! The principal’s office.”

"Oh, you’re not going, Sheldon.”

“Aww”

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

Y/N fiddled with her pendant nervously, occasionally looking at the boy pressing on the vending machine as she sat patiently on the bench nearby. The two of them are alone currently at the hall.

A hand with a drink was thrust in her direction, particularly in her line of vision. Y/N looked up and saw Georgie’s smiling face. She meekly took the drink from him and drank it, looking down at the bottle and staying quiet.

Georgie, knowing not to push her into talking, sat down beside her, with a good amount of space left between them, and drank from his own drink. His cool demeanor contrasts with the way his heart is beating. He took a big gulp from his drink to calm his rapid heart. Alas, it didn’t work at all.

Being with the girl he has been admiring all year and sitting beside her is doing something to him. He flinched a little when he heard her speak.

“Thank you.” Y/N smiled shyly at his direction, “from kind of saving me back there." She then lifted up the drink with her hand, “and for the free drink." She returned her attention back to the napkin that she'd been gripping, “and for the napkin. I promise I’ll give it back to you soon.”

Georgie shrugged coolly from beside her. “It’s all good; as long as there’s no harm done to my napkin, it’s all good.”

Y/N furrowed her brows together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The boy then widened his eyes, realizing that his words might be a little offensive given the situation that happened earlier. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that." He was cut off when the girl laughed a little.

“I was just joking, Georgie.”

Georgie breathed a sigh of relief, shaking his head playfully at the girl who fully smiled at him. His smile, though, turned down a little. "So, how are you? With all that?”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, hurt gracing her features. “Y'know, disappointed but not really surprised. It’s how people see me, my family.” She fiddled with her pendant once again, making Georgie’s attention turn to her hand. “I don’t mind being called a witch, y'know; it’s just—when people use the word in a bad way and call me and my family a freak just... hurts.”

She smiled bitterly. “It’s not like I’ll do something to them; it’s my beliefs, and I don’t need them to be friends with me; I just need them to be open-minded to it.” Y/N dropped the pendant, letting it hang around her neck, before releasing a big sigh.

Georgie looked at the girl softly, scooching closer to her, which the girl took notice of and said, “Well, I’ll be your first audience.” Y/N slowly smiled at that, nudging her shoulder to his. “I think paganism is an interesting belief; would you mind explaining it to me?” Georgie asked the girl, hopefully. In his case, it really is an interesting religion; he didn’t just say that to ‘get the girl’.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled at that before an idea came to her mind: “I’m actually having this small party at my house this Saturday; it’s my—“

“Birthday, yeah, I know.”

The girl blinked multiple times, snapping out of it. “I was wondering if you, I don’t know, would like to come?”

Georgie nodded his head without even letting the girl finish, “I would be honored to, ma’am.” He held her hand in his, raising it up to his lips and letting it touch the back of her hand softly.

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

On Saturday, Georgie made sure to look presentable before going to Y/N’s place. And that means taking a long shower, shaving, spraying cologne, and putting on his best outfit. By that, it meant that he looked anywhere for his best outfit; there’s currently a mountain of clothes on his bed.

He styled his hair perfectly and looked for any creases on his shirt. Once he’s done, he exits his room and takes his car keys before going to the front door. “I’m going out for a bit!"

“Now, hold on a second there, mister.” Mary walked into the living room and stopped her son from further going out the door. “Where do you think you’re going, Georgie?”

Georgie released the door knob to properly face his mother and said, “A friend’s house.”

Mary smiled teasingly. "Oh, is this friend a girl?”

“Yes.”

Mary then dropped her smile after learning about this new bit of information. “Then why are you going to her house? Are her parents there? Is she your girlfriend? Who is she anyway? When am I going to meet her?”

Georgie sighed, rolling his eyes at his mother before answering all of her questions: “It’s her birthday. Yes. No, although I plan to court her someday. She’s Y/N L/N. I don’t know when she’s okay with it.” He looked at the watch on his wrist before facing the door once more. “I’ll get going; I don’t want to be late.”

After her son left the house, Mary was left shocked. “Did he just say L/N? Oh Lord, bless his heart and guide him through this.”

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

Georgie wiped his hands and touched his hair to make sure it stayed put and not a strand was out of place. “You can do this,” he repeated to himself before knocking on the door.

The door opened up, revealing an older woman around her mid-40s. "Well, hello there, you must be Georgie.” She opened the door more to offer the teenager a handshake. “I’m Y/N’s mom; please come in, dear.”

Georgie shook her hand before entering the new home, a gift in his hand. It wasn’t really a big gift, and it made him nervous about whether she'd like it. The L/N’s house is a simple two-story house with a few plants inside and paintings hanging on the walls.

“Y/N! Dear, you have a visitor!”

“Coming!” And then she walked in the living room, with this simple blue summer dress and her hair done, with her pendant hanging around her neck. “Hi, Georgie. Thank you so much for coming.” Y/N walked over to the gawking teenager, his mouth left agape as he stuttered out a response.

“Hi—this gift... for you.” Georgie gave his gift to the girl. “I mean, this is my gift for you. Happy Birthday, Y/N." He nervously chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “It’s nothing much really, just a simple one. I hope you like it.”

Y/N took the gift and opened it, revealing a bracelet—an engraved bracelet with the runic letters spelling her name. “Oh my—Georgie, where did you buy this? I love it; thank you so much.” She hugged him, which left the boy more speechless than he ever was.

"Oh, it’s all good. I’m not sure about the spelling of the name, so if it’s wrong, I can fix it."

"Wait, wait, what do you mean fix it? You made this? ”

Georgie looked at the girl for a moment before shyly nodding his head. Their stare was broken by a flash, and the two of them looked to the side where they saw Y/N holding a camera in her hand. “I just ruined the moment, didn’t I?” She slowly put down the camera, smiling sheepishly at the pair. “Sorry.”

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

“So what’s your plan for the future, Georgie?” Y/N’s dad asked the boy as they ate.

Georgie swallowed the food before answering, “I actually don’t know yet, sir, but I would love to have my own business someday.” He picked up a glass for him to drink and said, “To be honest, I’m not that great at school, not like my little brother, Sheldon, so I don’t plan on going to college, but I would like to build my own business.”

“A business, huh? Well, you can tell me how I’ll help you, son; I’ll sponsor you as long as I can.” The man smiled at the young boy who beamed at him. “But you have to prove to me that my help wouldn’t be futile.”

"Yes, sir, I won’t let you down.”

Y/N smiled at the two of them, but not until her father asked what religion Georgie is. The teenagers looked at each other first before the girl let Georgie answer.

“I’m actually Christian; my mother is religious and all that, but I am not a full believer," Georgie answered truthfully, hoping that his religion wouldn’t be a problem to him courting Y/N in the eyes of her family.

“Oh, it’s fine if you don’t fully believe it if it doesn’t feel right with you," Y/N’s mom said with the girl’s dad nodding his head along with her. “We, pagans, are different from each other. Like Y/N here, for example, she believes more in the Norse gods but worships them a bit differently than traditional worship.” The woman pointed to her daughter, who smiled shyly, “She’s considered to be an Eclectic Pagan.”

Georgie takes in the new information and says, “That’s cool. Do you guys like to recruit or something?"

This time it was Y/N who answered, "No, no, we do not ‘recruit’, we let people do it of their own free will. Pagans tend to believe in many gods and goddesses, while some believe only in one; other pagans can believe in your God if they choose to.”

“Woah, that’s really interesting.” Georgie’s mind was prepared to ask more questions to the family, who, by the way, are happy to answer them.

・‥...━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━...‥・

“Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. and Mrs. L/N," Georgie said as they walked him to the front door as nightfall had already come.

Y/N’s mom moved to hug the boy and say, “No, thank you for being a part of my daughter’s birthday.” She pulled away with teary eyes, then whispered, “You have my blessing, by the way, to court her.” The woman winked at the stunned teenager.

“I won’t hurt her, I promise.”

“Oh Georgie, pain is part of love; as long as you treat her like she deserves and have proper communication with her, all is well.” Y/N’s mom caressed his cheek before pulling away to let him and her husband talk.

“Remember what we talked about, son. I’ll help you as long as you help yourself too.” Y/N’s father shook hands with the Cooper boy, who nodded his head at him eagerly. “I trust you won’t screw this up, both the business and my daughter.” He raised a brow to the teenager, who just let out a chuckle nervously.

“Dad!”

“I’m only joking, sweetie, right, Georgie?”

"Yes, sir, of course.”

The parents walked off to give the two some privacy. The teenagers walked outside as they stood there on the porch, with the only light being the porchlight. “I’d like to thank you for coming to my birthday and celebrating it with me. And for the gift. And for everything else.”

Georgie just smiled and nodded his head behind her. “I’m actually glad that your parents liked me.”

“Of course they would; what’s not to like?” Y/N unconsciously said before gasping when she realized what she said.

The boy started grinning boyishly, “Well, I best be on my way, ma’am.” He lifted her hand once again and kissed the back of it; he put it down but was still not releasing it. “Happy Birthday again, Y/N.”

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

I tried to make this as accurate as possible. Clearly, I am not a Pagan, but I tried to research and study more about the religion but please, correct me if I’m wrong.

How about a part 2? Where the Cooper Family met Pagan!reader? Let me know what you think about that.

#x reader #georgie #georgie cooper x reader #georgie cooper #young sheldon #request #angsty fluff #flangst #fluff #angst #imagine #fem reader

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cyxnidx · 5 months

Text

SWEETNESS !

character: neuvillette

content: fluffy & a lil angst.

a/n: just reminding neuvi he matters & worth ur love. kinda short - jus haven't been in the writing mood lately. if we end up getting headcanons / mini scenarios for a while yk why <3.

"do you love me?"

that was the question neuvillette uttered moments ago.

and now, he was a crying mess in your lap while it rained. the rain matched his mood, occasional lighting strikes hitting the grounds surrounding your home due to his anger.

"i just don't," he paused, "just don't feel like m' enough for you. i don't deserve you, and-"

it hurt your heart to see neuvillette like this. his head buried in the plush of your thighs, however tears are falling from his eyes. he sat down in a praying position, head laying on your thighs as he tries to explain what was wrong without choking up on his own words or making himself cry more.

"and i just feel like it's stupidly selfish and idiotic to even think such a thing, but i just can't.. i can't just stop." he looks up to you, eyes all red and puffy from the past 10 minutes of crying. a lightning strike hit, a bit closer to your house this time. "it's hard to make it stop - darling, they won't stop."

it was hard to comprehend just how bad things had gotten for neuvillette to be in this state. and moments ago, you two were simply existing together - on the couch, with the tv playing despite neither of you paying attention to whatever was airing. instead, you were doing your own thing and he was as well - coexisting.

and then, that's when he broke the silence, with a question you never thought he'd bother to think.

were you not showing him enough love? were you not paying enough attention to him? were you not doing enough? had you subconsciously stopped certain habits since the two of you've been together? has these thoughts been racking his brain for who knows how long? just how long had he waited to tell you?

there was no clear answer.

"of course, i love you, neuvi." you tell him softly. "you're the only thing i've loved for a while."

he blinks at you, eyes slightly puffy and skin turning pink from crying and rubbing his face against the pants you wore.

"why wouldn't i love you?" you place your forehead against his, "you're practically all i've ever wanted. all i've ever known, the only thought i've ever had."

he brings a hand up to his cheek, wiping away the rest of the forming tears. "m' sorry,"

"don't apologize." you say softly, kissing his forehead. "have i not been doing enough for you?"

he shakes his head frantically, eyes tearing up at the thought of you thinking you haven't been enough now. "you've been perfect, i promise."

"so have you, neuvi. there's no reason i'd stop loving you."

he sniffles, a self-pitying chuckle leaving him for a moment. "i jus' didn't think i deserved you, with all you do f'me, and then i think about me, and," he pauses, his throat closing as he begins to get more emotional once again. "and i couldn't fathom a reason you'd be so patient with me."

"because you deserve it, neuvi. every inch of love and affection i give you, you deserve. you're worthy of it all." you begin to kiss around his face, wiping any drying tears from his cheeks once again. "you're so sweet, you're a sweetness i can't stray from."

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answer2jeff · 5 months

Text

Life Imitates Art —Carmen Berzatto.

PART 1/2.

warnings: fluff. painter!reader x roommate!carmen. unestablished relationships. clunky overly detailed writing. carmy being concerned. angsty. mutual pinning. (reader is lowkey mentally unstable like Carmen. i can't write 100% healthy relationships i'm sorry!!!)

a/n: sorry i disappeared and didn't write for weeks and decided to randomly drop this!

You needed inspiration.

With your last three pieces bought out from the French art gallery, L'art de L'amour, you hadn't touched your easel in days. Your brushes had gone dry, the paint clumping and staining every bristle. The lack of desire to make art felt like you hadn't seen the sun in 10 years.

You'd been ignoring this dreadful feeling with sleep.

Long day at the studio, the space filled with no one but younger, starving artists who wanted to admire your work for creative flow—but never wanting to know the real meaning behind every brush stroke, or why you used oil paints for specific pieces? Sleep.

The days fell shorter, the nights falling longer.

Even your roommate, a micromanager of his career, noticed.

It surprised you, possibly more than it should've. When you first moved into this apartment, you had every doubt in the world sharing a space would be enjoyable. For a while, you weren't sure if you could call yourselves "friends." Then again, living with a complete stranger—a man, no less, seemed impractical. But after a month or two, it was refreshing in a way. Carmen always cleaned up after himself, and was never opposed to splitting chores. There was no need to set specific boundaries. You felt respected, cared for. Every minute not overpowered by either of your desires to create were mostly spent with each other. It kept you sane.

You woke up to the sound of Carmen walking into the kitchen, cursing under his breath when he struggled to shut the door of your apartment behind him. Reluctantly, you dragged yourself out of bed, only to find that your bedroom door was wide open. You must've gone straight to bed after spending the entire evening trying and expectedly failing at "cleaning" up the apartment so Carmen wouldn't come home to a mess.

Bare feet pattered against the floorboards, the palm of your hand pressing into your tired eyes. You stretched your arms out, your t-shirt, who you weren't sure if it was yours or Carmen's, lifting up and showing just a sliver of your stomach over your grey sweatpants. The sunlight leaking through the windows blinded you.

"Oh, hey. You're up." A warm, welcoming voice greeted you, followed by the fridge being closed shut after restocking it with the necessities he picked up from Whole Foods.

You blinked to see Carmen hovered over the kitchen counter, clad in a navy-blue crewneck and gold chain dangling from his pale neck. His hands pried at a familiar brown wrapper. Blueberry muffins.

"Hey, yourself," you slurred, barely able to keep your eyes open as you hoisted yourself up onto the marble surface. You gazed down at him, grinning at his messy blonde curls.

Carmen smiled back, blue eyes admiring the sight of you: half asleep, your voice raspy while still having that airy cadence, your hair messier than it was the last time he willingly saw you—which he couldn't totally remember. He came home to the sight of your bedroom dimly lit by your bedside lamp.

"It's noon," he muttered, glancing from his phone on the counter, and back to you.

"Shit. Really?"

"Yeah. You've been sleeping a lot lately," he kept his stare on you as he opened the cabinet beside you, reminding you to 'watch your head' as he grabbed a ceramic plate.

"Isn't that a good thing?"

Your mind wandered to your exhibit. The thought of never having the ability to create such extraordinary work terrified you. So much that you hadn't even tried. It was almost embarrassing: Carmen seeing you like this. Rid of the one thing you convinced yourself you knew how to do.

"Not really."

You wanted to laugh. Maybe he just didn't get it.

If you could make even the painfully mundane into something more, than maybe you were more than just existing. Carmen was actually astounded by you and your work, even with the lack of knowledge in other art forms. Culinary was his calling, but for you? Oh, how he tried to grasp every concept you conveyed in your creative works. All in attempt to comprehend every thought in that pretty little head of yours.

Maybe he didn't understand as much as he wished, but maybe he didn't have to totally 'get it' to get you. Carmen found it hard to read people, their feelings, their true intentions, his whole life. But for once, he had confidence in his intoxicating marvel for everything you did. Even the way you covered your mouth when you laughed around everyone except him, or the way you styled your hair

"Well, it was for the sake of art," you smiled, extending your hand out to accept the plate that held the beautifully baked blueberry muffin. "Thanks for these, by the way."

"Pleasure. And I was actually gonna ask you about that. The—the art. Your art." Carmen joined you on the counter, his feet dangling beside yours. Your shoulders bumped past each other, a laugh coming from the both of you.

"Yeah? What about it?" You bit into your muffin, your gaze never leaving his.

"Well, I uh—I kinda wanted to visit your exhibit, y'know? Get to see it in its full form. I would've asked sooner but—"

"Yeah, yeah, it's okay. I know. Um—that'd be great. That's really nice of you, Carm."

A part of you wondered why he wanted to see it. But it wasn't all too surprising. Carmen took every chance he got to see your studio—even taking the initiative to drive you home from it on late nights, where you'd be endlessly analyzing your works even hours after Carmen would leave what was now, The Bear.

"Nah, I mean, I've just seen all that y'do and it's—" Carmen shrugged, struggling to find the right words to express his admiration without changing the atmosphere, "really cool. It's you, y'know?" His bottom lip was barred by his teeth and he looked into you for an answer.

You wished you could understand how the complexities of a kitchen; how it could clutch Carmen's attention to the point of no return, but you were happy for him. He was making something more of "mom and dads piece of shit," as he called it.

You never thought it was anything short of fucking awesome. He had all of this experience, drive, passion. Carmen felt more real, more rawly human to you than anything. Or anyone you'd met before.

He changed you. You were softer, calmer.

And still, you worried for him, dragging him out of the ever all consuming anxiety. Sometimes this was through watching X-file reruns on the couch. And every night, you'd move a little closer. By now, he'd keep an arm around you as your eyes became heavy and the room stirred with darkness and comfortable silence. He prayed to whatever ruled above him that you wouldn't notice, simultaneously wishing you'd want him to hold you gently like this. Even grocery store trips, something so simple, felt this way—which you missed out on this morning. You'd stand on the edge of the cart, your hands supporting your weight as Carmen pushed the handle with both hands, eyes scanning the isle for whatever obscure ingredient he needed for the dinner he planned on making you that night.

Every time he looked away, you stared. His beautifully carved nose, the way he bit the inside of his cheek and furrowed his blonde eyebrows when he tried to focus on making a decision. You were afraid, in a weird, animalistic way. You hadn't stopped yourself from relying on him. What if loving him this way made him pull away–or worse, you? You had to admit, having something this painfully simple in your life that made up for the chaos, was a little hard to accept.

It took everything in you to pretend you didn't notice him cleaning up the bathroom you shared whenever either of you left your belongings lying around. You wanted to convince yourself it was because he didn't want to come off as a slob, or influence you to be one yourself. But it always felt more like he was looking after you. Nothing that belonged to you would ever be misplaced again. Not with Carmen around.

You took pride in the little things. Your shoes placed next to each other near the front door, your toothbrushes leaning against each other with corresponding colored clips to cover their bristles. This was good. Change was good.

#carmen berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #painter!reader x carmen #ugh i love this #angsty fluff #carmy is so cute i need him #sorry i haven't posted #depression is a bitch #uni is kicking my ass #like seriously #anyways yeah #enjoy this #love you guys mwah

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creative-heart · 1 month

Text

"Where the world made sense" Kuku x (fem!) reader

A/N: Hi lovelies!! Ok, so here goes another one, I think THE man Esteban Kukuriczka is the loveliest man ever! and I wanted to get in there with some angsty fluff for any and all who love this adorable dork. I really hope you enjoy it, it kinda came about with Shakira’s song “Antologia” for my spanish speaking girlies.

TW: Angst, fluff, may be a little mention to smut,just some kissing, social drinking and smoking, nothing too bad.

Word Count: 1.9k

Where Kuku and Y/N finally stop being stubborn and get back where they belong, to eachother

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three years had gone by since Kuku left the apartment Y/N and him shared, three whole years, and the brunette still walked around in that old Rolling Stones t-shirt he had left behind when he packed his bags, she had never had the heart to reach out and give it back. Three years had gone by and it was the first time she was facing the chance of seeing him again, since the break up, Y/N had been adamant not to cross paths with him, even if it meant, making special plans for her cousin Matias’ birthday. This year though, it was different, he had begged her to come to his party, and she hadn’t had the heart to refuse him he was after all, the favorite of the bunch.

As Y/N got ready padding barefoot around the apartment trying to find the leather miniskirt she wanted to wear she kept circling back to the overbearing thought of Kuku being there, he would probably be, he was Mati’s best friend after all, she didn’t know if it was that chance of seeing him or what, but she kept changing outfits trying to look perfect as she took a glance at the time on the clock on her night stand- she was late, of course- “fuck fuck fuck” she muttered under her breath while she jumped around on one foot trying to put on her higheels and run out the door.

On her drive over, Y/N couldn’t stop replaying their whole relationship in her head, from that first awkward yet adorable hello at the wrap party for the movie, to the lazy fluttery kisses the brown haired sweetheart used to pepper her face with every morning, she remembered the first piece of furniture they bought for the apartment, and the first present she ever gifted him. It all felt so fresh, it all still stung too bad, maybe it wouldn’t have if something bad would have happened for them to break it off back then, maybe it would be easier if she could hate him, but of course she couldn’t, how could you hate the sweetest person alive?- what happened was that you weren’t important enough, he was never home, he always had better plans, remember?- she forced herself to be mad, she had felt so alone back then, and whenever she talked to him about it, kuku dismissed it as being nonsense. She sighed as she parked in front of her cousin’s place, she could hear the music roaring all the way from down on the street. She took a few minutes to compose herself, she knew she was going to cry if she went up immediately, so she got out of her red mini, rested against the closed door and light up a cigarette.

~~~~~

She fixed her staple bright red lipstick while she rode the elevator up to the loud apartment and took a deep breath before knocking on the door, she had her arms opened, half expecting the birthday boy to come greet her and as soon as the door started to open she exclaimed “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE SECOND BEST RECALT ON THIS EARTH!” and flung herself onto what she believed to be Matias’ arms only to be met by the perfume she knew oh so well, she wanted to stay in Esteban’s embrace forever, but she pulled away immediately brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and looking down so he couldn’t see her blushing.

“Oh shoot, Sorry Ku- Esteban” she corrected herself “I expected Mati to open the door, I didn’t mean to hu-” her sentence was cut short when he rested his warm soft hand on her forearm to calm her down and let her in.

“Nothing to apologize for babe” he said, the pet name coming as second nature to him when it came to Y/N he moved to the side so she could come in and took the chance to look her up and down -damn she looks absolutely breathtaking, she always had, how I ever got so lucky is the world’s greatest mystery- he wanted to kick himself for letting her go, for not fighting harder, he was still after all these years, undeniably, utterly and completely in love with the dark haired girl. Once she had made her way into the apartment, like she owned the place, commanding the scene as she did anywhere she went, he closed the door and went straight to the kitchen where his friend was.

Matias looked up at him from the snacks he was serving “what’s the matter with you, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost” he chuckled- I MIGHT AS WELL HAVE- Esteban screamed internally and leaned over.

“you hadn’t told me Y/N would be here tonight, why didn’t you tell me?” The younger looked at his friend and laughed so loudly the whole building might have heard.

“Of course she was gonna be here, she’s my cousin, plus you guys broke up what…three years ago?” he quirked an eyebrow up at kuku “about time you saw each other again” he smirked and walked out giving him a wink. Matias very well knew they were both still stupidly in love with each other, and that the only reason they hadn’t gotten back together was because they were both too damn head strong to admit that they had made a mistake and that they missed eachother.

Esteban stood at the kitchen’s doorway, and there was Y/N as beautiful as ever talking to Malena and Pipe, wine glass in hand looking as beautiful as ever- no, she looks better than ever- and he could watch her all his damn life, seeing how her eyes crinkled at the corners when she laughed, that laugh that filled up any room, that came straight from her heart, head tilted back, free hand clutching over her stomach. And her hair, her long brown hair, perfectly done up with those waves that she would spend hours getting to be how she wanted them to, how he hated it when she sat on the floor, curling iron in hand, brow furrowed in concentration, he knew they would be late to wherever they had to go when he saw that, and yet, he would never change that sight. He quickly looked away when he felt her gaze fall on him, but he could see the soft sad smile painted on her lips, and he hated to be the reason for it to be there.

~~~~~

As the night went on Y/N still hadn’t mastered the courage to go up to kuku and talk to him again, she knew she couldn’t, she would cry, or throw herself in his arms, or both, and she wouldn’t let that happen, so instead, she grabbed her third…no, fourth glass of wine and stepped out to the balcony to have a smoke, she needed the fresh air, she could feel the booze getting to her head. she light it up and rested against the rail, closing her eyes and letting her head fall backwards a little bit, enjoying the chill air, she didn’t even realize when the balcony door opened and out came that head full of gorgeous brown hair.

“I see you still haven’t broken the habit” Kuku said softly a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips as he saw the girl jump a little bit “oh sorry, didn’t mean to startle you”.

Y/N opened her eyes, and looked at Esteban, god he was still every bit as handsome as she remembered him to be and smiled softly “Not an easy one to break” she cleared her throat -especially when you’re drunk, sad and want to have your lips on his not on the cigarette- she thought to herself.

“It’s nice seeing you again Y/N/N” he started off quietly, hands fidgeting on the balcony rail as he stood beside her facing the street “I must say I was surprised to see you here, thought you would keep avoiding me” she looked at him again and had to fight the urge to brush that stubborn strand of hair off his face, it would always get in his eyes.

“I thought about it for a bit, but I had promised Mati, and I couldn’t break that” she stated before she could filter out the truth she kept looking at him she could look at him all her life “you look good, how have you been?” Y/N said quietly and bit her lip seeing him shrug.

“busy…okay I guess” he turned to look at her, eyes immediately drawn to her red lips, god what those did to his heart “Mati told me you finally got the job, you’re now officially a model, congrats, I knew you would get it”- so he asked about me- Y/N thought as she nodded and just leaned in pressing a soft kiss to his lips, probably wine induced, and he returned it softly at first, and a bit needier as it went on, he had missed that, but he pulled away, she was clearly drunk “no, babygirl, I think it’s time for you to go home, you’ve had a bit to drink, come on” he said taking the glass of wine.

“Don’t call me that” she whined, not because she didn’t like it, but because it made her want him to keep saying it. He chuckled and threw his hands up in defeat.

“Come on, I’ll take you home” he said, and with that they left Matia’s apartment.

~~~~~

When they got to Y/N’s apartment, Esteban helped her out of her car and walked her up the stairs to the apartment they used to share and bit his lip while getting the door opened, once they were inside, he turned around “okay, this is where I say good-” he was cut off by her lips crashing onto his once more, still soft, but with a longing that hadn’t been there before, his hands instinctively went to her waist and he pulled her closer not wanting to break the kiss he took her back to the couch, he still knew the place like the back of his hand. When Y/N went to take her top off he stopped her hands, it took all he had in him to do so, but he did, and she sighed and sat up.

“You don’t want me” she frowned looking down feeling stupid “I should have known” and he sat down laughing which pulled a furious look from those gorgeous green eyes.

“Oh no, believe me, I do, I have dreamt of this moment for three years, I want you more than I ever have, but you’re drunk, and if I’m gonna have sex with you again, I want you to be in all your senses, plus we have lots to talk about still” he stroked her cheek lovingly, he had missed this, and she nodded softly leaning into his touch.

“stay the night?” she looked into his eyes playing with his free hand and he nodded.

She smiled softly and walked him to the bedroom they once shared, taking her clothes off and throwing on his shirt. He smiled seeing that and got in bed with her, pulling her into his arms, determined to not let her go ever again, she fitted in there like it was meant to be, his chest had ached for her head to lay on it once more, and here they were, once again where the world made sense, once again where nothing else mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: OFC he wouldn’t want to go all the way if Y/N was drunk, that’s how much of a gentleman he is. Hope you enjoyed it! Also, let me know ig you want me to tag you in my next ones.

@madame-fear

#esteban kukuriczka #Kuku fics #Fluff #Angst #Angsty fluff #fanfics #fics #lsdln x reader #lsdln cast #matias recalt #esteban kukuriczka fics

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newtthetranswriter · 4 months

Note

Would you do a fluff with a hint of angst Chifuyu request of Chifuyu being extra clingy and affection with his s/o after Takemichi tells him the truth about their future and tells him his future wife (aka his current girlfriend) is also killed by Kisaki? Also feel free to make it gender neutral if you’d prefer!

(Art by me)

A/n: Hello anon, I love this idea. I hope I did it justice, and I hope you enjoy it. I hope it’s okay that I made the reader Mitsuya’s younger sister, it just felt like it fit for the way it was going. Feel free to request more or just chat. I hope you have a good day and remember to hydrate or diedrate. Requests are still open.

Word count:881

Paring: Chifuyu Matsuno x Mitsuya!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of canon death, not great clingy writing from an arospec person

To say Chifuyu was stunned was an understatement. He just found out that in the future not only is he married to his current girlfriend but they are killed at the hands of Kisaki. Multiple feelings were running through his head, happiness and joy that he and Y/n worked out even twelve years from now, but also sadness that his loyalty to the true vision of Toman gets her killed. What was he supposed to do? He could break up with her and save her from being stuck with him or he could help Takemichi stop Kisaki. Yeah that sounded like a good plan, just stop Kisaki instead of coming up with a shit lie to end a perfect relationship.

Chifuyu was pulled from his thoughts when Takemichi spoke again. “You can’t tell anyone. Who knows what it would do to the future.” He stated like it wasn’t obvious. “I honestly shouldn’t have told you, it all just slipped out.”

Calming his freaked friend, Chifuyu spoke. “Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone, they’d call me crazy if I went around spouting about the future. Let’s go get some food, and figure out a plan, Ok?” He asked, still shaken from the information but trying to push down his anxieties about it all.

After discussing plans with Takemichi, they decided that at the Captain’s meeting, Takemichi would try to bribe Mikey into not letting Hakkai leave Toman, Chifuyu bid his friend good night and head home. Once home he sent a quick text to his girlfriend, nothing crazy just an ‘I love you, and hope you have a good night’. Now on the other end of the text conversation, Y/n was confused, sure a good night text was normal, but why that phrasing their conversations were normally just quick and shortened texts because let’s be honest texting on these phones sucked. Brushing off the confusion, y/n responded with her own simple ‘good night’ and fell asleep, after all Chifuyu was probably just being clingy, he did lose a close friend a month ago so it’s fine.

The next day before the Captain’s meeting, Chifuyu opted to invite Y/n out for a lunch date. Y/n wanting to spend time with her boyfriend happily agreed, meeting him at their normal lunch cafe.

“Hey Fuyu, not that I don’t love the spontaneity, but what’s with the random lunch date? Isn’t there a captain’s meeting today?” She asked as they entered the cafe. Y/n was in the loop with everything Toman, not only was she dating the vice captain of the first division, but she’s also the second division captain’s younger sister.

“Uhhh, yeah there is. I just wanted to spend some time with you beforehand.” Chifuyu responded, grabbing her hand. He led her over to the counter quickly ordering their usuals and paying before she could protest. Once their order was placed they walked over to a booth in a back corner to sit and chat.

As Y/n took her spot on one side of the booth, she was confused as Chifuyu slid in right next to her, normally when it was just the two of them they sat across from each other, so this was odd. “Chifuyu, why are you sitting there?” She asked, trying to understand his weird behavior.

He just shrugged and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “So how has school been going?” He asked, trying to shift the topic from his random clingy behavior.

They spent the next hour chatting about random things and enjoying their lunch. But Y/n couldn’t help but notice that no matter what was happening Chifuyu always had a hand somewhere on her, whether it was his arm across her shoulders while they talked or his hand brushing her leg as they ate. She didn’t want to seem put off by the affection so she once again brushed it off as still being clingy after Baji passed. It was harder not to question it when they were leaving. Normally at the end of a date they would share a quick kiss and hug, before going their separate ways if they hadn’t planned to do more, but it seemed like Chifuyu didn’t want to let her go.

“You need to go, you have that meeting to go to.” Y/n said, gently pushing Chifuyu off her. He hesitated for only a second longer before releasing her, pulling away with what Y/n would describe as a sad smile making her concerned. “Are you ok? What’s wrong?” She asked cupping his cheeks.

Chifuyu just kept smiling and brushing her hands with his. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just love you so much.” He said getting ready to leave.

Y/n just looked at him confused for a second, before chuckling. “Love you too, now go before Taka calls me asking why I’m keeping you from the meeting.” Chifuyu let out a laugh at that, placing a final kiss to her cheek and running off. She was left standing in front of the cafe staring after her boyfriend’s retreating figure. Sure he was acting a little strange, but you know what, she would take a clingy Chifuyu over a distant Chifuyu any day of the week, so she’ll let it slide for now.

#x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #chifuyu matsuno x reader #chifuyu x reader #tokyo rev x reader #angsty fluff #answering requests

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cookierunauprompts · 3 months

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I'm a sucker for fluffy prompts...maybe something with sleepy cuddles with shadow milk? (I apologize If this is a bit vague I'm not the best at wording things like this, haha.)

so I may have felt like doing a bit of pre-corruption Shadow Milk writing... :3 anyways enjoy!!

Requested Prompts #22 - 💝💓

You stalked through the halls of the Spire of Knowledge, if your gut feeling was correct then surely Shadow Milk Cookie was not taking a break like you told him to... Again. And sure enough, upon entering his room, you found him slumped over his desk surrounded by books, papers and the like. All in the pursuit of knowledge, was always his excuse for overworking himself. You certainly didn't like it, but what could you do to stop someone who was quite literally a giant most of the time? You sigh, at least you didn't have to climb tables and walls and basically anything just to talk to him. Blessed be the witches that you were baked with the ability to create portals. So, with a quick portal on up, you were standing on the table. " Shadow Milk Cookie," You began, stern and concerned. " What have I told you about staying up so late?" You see him stir, his blue eyes flickering open before settling onto your tiny form. " Reader Cookie..." He mumbled out, resting a hand behind you. " I didn't mean to this- yawn- time..." You sigh, he must have lost track of the time again. You let him press you against his cheek, as some sort of weird abstract cuddle sort of thing. " Alright, alright. Just make sure to get to bed soon, it's three AM." " Yeah yeah... i get it..." He mumbled, already drifting back asleep. It was hard to not see him as adorable sometimes, yet he worked too hard! If only you were big like the saviors, then you'd be able to do something more. But you still do as much as you can with your small stature, and so far it's been enough. But... There might come a time where you won't be enough. But it's probably far off in the future, so it won't be a problem... Right? ... Right.

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run au #crk #shadow milk cookie #cookie run au prompts #cr kingdom #beast yeast #shadow milk cookie x reader #might have thrown in some angst as well. fuck.#angsty fluff #anon if you want me to redo it then i will with proper eepy fluff

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lov3-sweet · 3 months

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Someone Please

just listen to what I have to say for a WizardBrave idea

I need to see an angsty fluff Fanfic or Writing prompt of these two so badly that if I don't see one in the near future I will explode

#cookie run kingdom #gingerbrave #cr kingdom #crk #gingerbrave cookie #cookie run fanfic #wizard cookie #Azure flame Staff Wizard #Azurewizard #AzureBrave #WizardBrave #angsty fluff #Maybe dozer in there some where #gingerbrave is best boy #Gingerbrave

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chishiyasleftnut · 14 days

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Hi everyone ＼(٥⁀▽⁀ )／This is another fic I wrote in the middle of the night, but I couldn't get the scenario out of my head haha. It's not smutty at all, but I want to experiment a bit with different genres. I hope you'll all like it! (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)

2+1

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 Genre: Fluff w/ mild angst. Warnings: Minor existential dread, mentioning of abortions. Pairing: Dad!Chishiya x fem!reader.

Plot: After a long day at work, dad!Chishiya contemplates about his new role as a father. Is he even cut out for the job?

1140 words. 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Chishiya had never seen himself as the father type. Perhaps it was the subconscious fear of becoming like his own father - distant and uncaring - that kept him from wilfully pursuing that path. However, despite his best efforts to prevent it, you had managed to accidentally become pregnant and he had had to come to terms with the scary reality of fatherhood.

It wasn’t as bad as he thought. Sure, the little creature was awfully noisy and smelly at times, but he had to admit that she was also kinda cute. Did the positives outweigh the negatives? He wasn’t sure. But he knew he didn’t completely hate being a parent as much as he originally feared.

Luckily, Chishiya was earning enough money to secure you a long maternity leave, allowing you to bond well with your baby in a way Chishiya never would. He had accepted that and somewhat found peace with the fact that he wasn’t expected to be as close to the tiny being as you were. It was easier to handle having to accept that he was the secondary caregiver and not the primary.

Another benefit of his job were the long hours, which gave him a much-needed break from dealing with home life. He had always used his work as a coping mechanism to deal with every small, negative thing life threw at him, but it was only after becoming a dad that he realised that that’s what his own father did too. It scared him to admit that he shared more than just blood with the man who had been so distant his entire childhood. However, he tried to shake the feeling and convinced himself that he was taking extra shifts to afford your maternity leave. Mh, yes. That was 100% why.

Despite desperately seeking a sanction from the reality of his newfound status as a dad, a part of him was always looking forward to coming home. And so he did this night, stepping into your shared apartment, which was only lit up by the moon shining luminously through the big and modern windows. The apartment, which long ago had been only sparsely decorated (just as he liked it), was now covered in proof of your child’s existence; no matter where he looked, he saw baby toys, neatly folded onesies, and an array of pacifiers in every colour possible.

Trying his best to ignore the way his once tidy apartment had changed, he walked with tired steps through the apartment until he got to the master bedroom. Slowly, he opened the door, mindful of the way it creaked so as not to disturb you or the little human sleeping safely in her comfortable crib next to your bed.

For a while, he stood still in the doorway, examining the way you and your baby’s breathing were synchronised, as if you had become one with one another. Although he would never admit it, he envied you - envied the way you so easily let this helpless child into your heart and how you so naturally took care of her every need in a way that Chishiya couldn’t make sense of.

It was those quiet moments that assured him that you made the right choice in keeping the child. Of course you had discussed the possibility of getting an abortion, but now that your daughter was in front of you - living, breathing, feeling - neither of you would want it any other way. How silly of you two to even consider any other option, he thought with a small smile creeping up on his lips.

With gentle steps, he walked into the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him before approaching the bed. Despite how silent he was attempting to be, you regrettably woke up. He hated when he woke you up after a night shift - now more than ever. As a doctor, he was well aware of how desperately a new mother needed rest, and he hated taking that away from you for even a moment.

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered while climbing into bed next to you, still dressed in his hospital scrubs. “It’s just me.”

By instinct, you turned around to examine the small child, unable to fall back to sleep yourself until you had assured her that she was safely asleep. Luckily, she was, her chest rising and falling at just the right speed. He admired your natural dedication to ensuring your offspring’s safety and comfort. It always looked like second nature to you; like you were never, not even when asleep, not aware of how your daughter was doing.

Chishiya moved to embrace you, hugging you from behind and burrowing his face into your neck, taking in your scent. And that’s when he realised that work wasn’t his sanctuary; this was. It wouldn’t be easy for him to rearrange his mindset, but he knew he had to try. While you had never complained, he was well aware of how much being the prime caretaker of a newborn was taking a toll on you. You never got a full night’s rest anymore, surviving on napping throughout the day whenever the baby miraculously fell asleep.

That would have to change, and he knew it. No, he not only knew it; he wanted it to change. He wanted to be a better father and partner than his own dad was, and that started with reducing his work hours.

“I’m taking next week off,” he mumbled into the small hairs on your neck, unsure if you were even awake and listening to him. If he was honest, he wasn’t even sure if the comment was directed at you or if he just needed to say it aloud to believe it himself.

To his surprise, you hummed and scooted even closer to him, gently affirming to him that you were listening. Perhaps tomorrow, when he inevitably has to repeat the very same sentence, he will get a more enthusiastic response.

He could only hope that you were just as excited about the new change as he was. Still, he hoped you were without the deep fear that was echoing through his entire being - the fear of failure, of not being good enough for the sweet, innocent baby that was laying just half a metre away from the two of you.

In the last seconds before he slipped into unconsciousness, Chishiya, for the first time, found peace in his new role as a father, coming to terms with the fear of not being enough for the almost doll-like little girl that lay peacefully so close to him.

After all, very few great things were accomplished without fear and worry, and there was no doubt in his mind that this truly was a great thing. He could and would change. The two of you had turned into three, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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xxlady-lunaxx · 12 days

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Don't leave | {SaneGiyuu}

Theme: Angst/Fluff/Angst

Note: I think SaneGiyuu's turning into my comfort ship again ;-;

Why do Sanemi's ears looks like elf ears 💀

×××

"Don't do this to me," Sanemi whispered, his voice hoarse and broken. Tears threatened to pour over and his hands trembled as he held Giyuu's limp body in his arms. "Don't leave, I swear to God, please... I'll do anything but please, please don't leave me alone."

Giyuu's body remained cold, unmoving. Lifeless. He was gone, and that was that. Blood stained his mouth, his usually plush, pink lips splattered with inky red, a cruel contrast to his pale complexion. A single tear dropped onto his cheek. Not from his own eyes, however. He had lost the capability to cry. To smile, to breathe, to live.

"Giyuu..." Sanemi mumbled, his breaths shaky. "Giyuu, Giyuu, oh, Giyuu, please, PLEASE!!"

His pleading was fruitless, simply dispersing into the cold, February air. He sobbed over the body of his lover, snowy hair swinging forwards as he bent down, clutching Giyuu tightly.

The sudden image of Giyuu, alive and happy, flashed before his mind.

"You should pin your hair back, it keeps covering your eyes," he said, laughing. He had cut his hair, had been unable to continue tying it back once he'd lost an arm.

"Hell no. I'll look stupid like that," Sanemi retorted, rolling his eyes. He propped himself up on his elbows, glancing over at his boyfriend who lay next to him, buried under a pile of blankets.

Giyuu smiled over at him, reaching forward and brushing Sanemi's bangs from his eyes. His hand was rough from a decade of fighting, calloused and hardened. Yet his touch was gentle, soothing in a way. His fingers brushed over Sanemi's jaw and he sat up, scooting closer.

Sanemi looked up, a sense of tranquility befalling over him at the sight of Giyuu, an easy smile wavering on his lips.

Giyuu bent down, placing a kiss on Sanemi's forehead, brushing against one of the many scars written into his skin.

"I love you, you know that, right?" Giyuu said, tugging Sanemi onto his lap. Sanemi rested his head on Giyuu's thigh, turning his body to look up at him. Their gazes met and, for a moment, Sanemi lost himself in the beautiful, deep blue eyes of his boyfriend's a small smile curving his mouth.

"You tell me every day," Sanemi murmured, a burst of laughter escaping his lips.

"It's because I love you so much," Giyuu declared, pressing fleeting kiss on Sanemi's smile.

"You're cute, did you know that?" Sanemi asked, sitting up. He turned, pulling Giyuu onto his own lap this time, hand brushing Giyuu's neck, grazing his jaw.

"No, I didn't," Giyuu said. "Am I?" A teasing smile betrayed him.

They had played this before. As low as either of their self-esteem's were, both adored to be praised. To be seen as something other than what they saw themself as.

"Very," Sanemi agreed matter-of-factly, tangling his hand in Giyuu's short, raven-black hair and pulling his head towards him. He kissed him slowly, tongue skimming over Giyuu's bottom lip.

Giyuu pulled away, breath caught in his throat. "Really?" he asked, eyes flickering over Sanemi's face, searching for any hint of a lie.

"Truly," Sanemi assured him, bending down slightly and, tugging on Giyuu's kimono, pressed a kiss on his lover's collarbone. "You're lovely, too. So, so pretty. Most handsomest of the land. Girls, boys, even demons. They're all falling for my boyfriend."

Giyuu laughed gently, though he sounded breathless as kisses were peppered up his neck, trailing to his jaw. "You're being ridiculous now," he said, leaning against Sanemi.

"Never."

"Be reasonable, Sanemi," Giyuu ordered, a mock frown playing on his lips.

"Can't, I'm overwhelmed by my love for you," Sanemi teased, grinning.

"I hate you," Giyuu huffed, rejecting kisses that tried to follow, though his cheeks were tinted pink.

"I thought you loved me?" Sanemi said, faux gloom flooding his expression.

Giyuu turned back to him, horrified. "I do!"

Then Sanemi broke character, a smile spreading on his lips, and Giyuu stammered, stumbling over himself for a response. When he couldn't think of one, he settled for a frown, drawing his features for his previously-normal expression, eyes disinterested and ignorant.

Sanemi kissed him anyhow, changing their position to pin Giyuu to the futon, kneeling above him.

Giyuu went back to his flustered state, weakly trying to push Sanemi back before submitting to the kisses, his eyes fluttering shut.

"God, I love you so fucking much..." Sanemi murmured into his boyfriend's lips, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Giyuu's.

"How much?" Giyuu whispered.

Sanemi opened his eyes and sat up—or, sat on Giyuu's lap—surveying the breathless mess of his lover. He slipped back onto the futon, picking Giyuu up and cradling him in his arms. He smiled at the pleasant expression that took over Giyuu's face, soothing his features. He dipped his head down for a kiss then pulled away by a breath, their lips brushing against each other as he spoke.

"Too much," Sanemi said, gaze focused on Giyuu's blue-bell eyes. "More than I could contain."

He held him in his arms still, whole attention purely on Giyuu. Only it wasn't

Giyuu. He wasn't... He just wasn't anymore. He was gone, had sucked in a harsh and shaky breath but never let it out.

He couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that once, only months ago, he had held Giyuu in this exact position, but Giyuu had been well. Had been smiling, had been content, had been... alive. That he was no longer, eyes half-lidded, glazed over, skin paler than snow. His body was cold and limp, useless. He had died there, in Sanemi's arms.

Yet his lips held the ghost of a smile. How could he smile? How could he be happy when he knew that he would be leaving everyone behind, be leaving Sanemi.

Then it caught up to him. Everything.

"I love you, Sanemi," Giyuu had said, barely able to form words. But he had said this to him with the last of his strength. He had smiled, then, hadn't he?

"Your smile isn't half-bad. You're overreaction, it makes you look young. I guess you are young. But still," Sanemi said, rolling his eyes. "You shouldn't be so nervous."

"...Kocho said it was unsightly. She said she'd rather be devoured by a demon then see me smile," Giyuu mumbled.

"Kocho spews a lot of shit," Sanemi said simply. "Smile, won't you? Do it more. Maybe people will befriend you then."

"If you say so," Giyuu assented, though not without slight perplexity.

Giyuu had done it for Sanemi's sake. He had loved him so dearly, had shown his feelings through actions day after night after day, no matter what. To his very end, his affection didn't crumble for a second.

This realization only enveloped Sanemi with grief all over again, feeling the unconditional love towards him too great. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve to have met someone so devoted, so perfect like Giyuu sitting in his memories. But he would cherish it all. He would recount each day he'd had with Giyuu over and over until the day he could be laid to rest beside his lover. Giyuu was everything to him. He would never let himself forget that.

×××

« Word count: 1181 »

goshh i love them too much

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cyxnidx · 3 months

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SCARE !

req.:

a/n: omg hihihi😭apologies if this took a while, i haven't been checking my inbox at all. but i adore this idea!! tysm ♡. original post here.

character pairing: pantalone x gn!reader

genre: kinda angsty fluff hehe.

two weeks.

thats how long you've been gone for a commission. longer than usual, but pantalone has known you for long enough to know you're fine.

however, your little girl hasn't quite yet gained that pleasure of conscious.

"daddy.." the small girl whines, curling up in a ball against her fathers chest again.

she's been crying and whining about you all evening.

and while it wasn't out of the ordinary for the little girl to know that yes, you'd leave for "work" occasionally, she always got to have contact with you.

whether you end up sending a letter, calling, or sending some sort of souvenir, she always got something to remind her of her other support system.

but the extended time you've been gone paired with no gifts or contact whatsoever is overwhelming for the poor thing.

"i know, dear." pantalone says solemnly. it's the only thing he can tell her, other than the constant affirmation that you're fine.

but, of course she wants proof. its a warrant she's worthy of. but he just can't provide that for her.

its breaking him, from the inside out.

the small girl gets out from her fathers hold, eyes watering as she stomps over to her play shoes at the door. "daddy.. daddy, let's.. go!" she whines, wiping her own tears as she slips them on, and pantalone feels the last bit of his heart rip.

"where are we going, dear?" he asks, humoring the little girl.

"to go.. to go find.." she gets choked up on her own words, struggling to finish her sentence.

and back to her roots, she's a sobbing mess once again. mumbling your name like it's the only word she knows, pantalone can only kiss her forehead and tell her it's alright.

and even now, he's wondering if it's alright.

he takes the girl back to the couch, rocking her until she eventually quiets down from the constant crying she's been doing.

for once, pantalone feels useful in a situation like this. he's a smart man - he can do a lot, he knows a lot. but calming his little one while you're gone with no contact is something that nothing could've prepared him for. no book, no lesson, no prophecy, nothing.

just as he's beginning to relax on the couch, he hears the door knob twist and push open, revealing the same figure he and his little girl has missed for so long.

by the tensing of his body, your girl wakes up, looking around, still upset. until she meets your eyes.

and there she goes. crying, sobbing, a mess as she runs toward you, scolding you while also telling you she's missed you for what seems like a decade.

you kiss her forehead. "i know, i know, i'm sorry." you apologize, walking her over to pantalone.

he wraps his arms around you, his hedonistic smile crossing his face, though how he feels at the moment is anything but. his eyes say it all:

he's hurt. hurt, worried, upset, scared, and confused.

he pulls your figure in tight, as if he's afraid that if he lets go, you'll trickle into dust. nothingness. his head rests on your shoulder, his breathing choppy. "please don't worry me like that again." he mumbles.

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kaylinelizabeth4004 · 8 months

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Between Two Lungs/Heaven is Here Pt 2

SYNOPSIS: Y/N tries to process the idea of eternity and reincarnation. Aziraphale begins to identify his feelings for both Crowley and Y/N. Crowley is pining and moody

WORD COUNT: 7k

TAGS: Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley, Aziraphale x Reader, Aziraphale x Crowley, fluff, soulmates, pining, kind of confession, so much fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, pov third person, fluff and angst

A/N: i didn’t mean for this to be as long as it is, and I mean the story itself. But there will be a part 3. This focuses more on Aziraphale, next more on Crowley. Sorry this isn’t as long as the last but felt like it was wrapped up

She felt like she was vibrating as a human, small little shakes destroying her entire sense of balance. Nina had made her take her break, though it was far too early in her shift, and she sat in the back with her legs shaking so violently the table rattled. She'd broken her mug that was sitting on top of it. Y/N was absentminded the entire shift, messing up orders and stuttering with each customer she talked to. Eventually Nina pulled her aside during a lull.

"What is going on?"

"What do you mean?" Y/N asked, eyes wide as she seemed to realize that this wasn't a 'here's the sugar, don't forget the napkins' spiel - the kind of spiel every new person got during the first month of their job, that was both helpful and insulting - but a 'you're fucking up spiel' - which was significantly less enjoyable and filled the receiver with such shame and embarrassment they considered the different cliffs nearby. During a particularly intense thought she considered the cliffs of Broadchurch, before remembering that was from a television show.

"Don't be daft. You've been a good barista these past few weeks, then that couple comes in and you're dancing like a bee."

"A bee?"

"They dance to communicate," Nina said plainly, as though it was an obvious comparison. Nina was sometimes so in her own head, tracking her own thought process, that she couldn't comprehend why it wasn't someone else's immediate thought as well. It was something her shrink told her to work on.

"Oh, sorry. I, they just rattled me." Y/N tried to ignore the image in her head of Nina moonwalking while firing her or someone salsaing on their way to tell someone their son has tried tragically. It was terribly funny and she was not in a terribly funny sort of mood. Demons and angels did that to a person.

Nina stared at her for a moment, "you a homophobe?"

"Oh! Oh my god, no. Never, that's not what I mean. No, no, no," she was rambling, not knowing what to say and now terrified her boss thought she was a homophone. She tried to consider how to explain to Nina that she wasn't homophobic, she'd just been pulled aside by a literal angel and demon who told her that her soul has been trapped on earth for more than 2,000 years eternally connected to them with their miscommunication and angst, which means that when the world does indeed end in fire she will definitely be there and might not have a place to go after the fact aside from miserable eternity. So she settled on saying something close enough to the truth that Nina wouldn't think she's a piece of shit that should be fired. "They, they made these comments about fate. Eternity and whatever. It wasn't bad, they weren't bad, I just got spooked. Not really religious, didn't know what to think of it."

Nina blinked rapidly and paused, letting Y/N's words sink in. "You're like this cause you're having a crisis of fate?"

"I- I, well yeah. It sounds silly. Just got to me."

"We get missionaries in here all the time, the Mormons won't leave me alone. You gonna be like this every time someone mentions God?"

"No! This is a one time thing, I promise. I'm not usually like this. I think it was the de - redhead, he drank like a lot of espresso and he was talking very intense-like." Whenever she got anxious her language devolved into likes and ums, stutters and little comments that only made sense to herself. She sometimes wished she could press an off button to stop the random shit that just decided to spew from her.

Nina looked at her with a sort of blanket skepticism she carried into each conversation. One of the things Maggie both loved and struggled with. Eventually she nodded, "right, okay. Life gets tough, people throw us off. I get it. I'm gonna send you home today, you're a mess even if it is a one time thing. Next time this happens, you tell me so we can fix it." Y/N's shoulders slumped at being sent home, feeling like she failed Nina. Nina, being surprisingly observant, went to reassure her, "shop closes in an hour anyways. Only one person comes in regularly and it's my partner, I'll be fine."

Y/N nodded, untying her apron and hanging it up. Nina gave her a smile as she left, trying awkwardly to comfort her. She really did appreciate the attempts, even if Nina's somewhat harsh demeanor failed to always communicate that.

Y/N loitered outside the shop for a minute, staring at the antique shop of 'Mr. Fell' who she'd come to realize just a few short hours ago belonged to the actual angel Aziraphale. She should go talk to them. They'd told her to. Aziraphale had insisted that she come over after her shift to discuss this situation more, maybe she could start to recover some of her past memories. She'd gotten a few initially, remembering the ring and Crowley's eyes. Crowley had suggested he just make Nina forget she was working and to let her go freely. While tempted by the demon's offer, she'd only had this job for two weeks and wasn't about to risk it all. Though it clearly wasn't the worst of her problems.

She began to cross the street to the building. It was tall and cute, tucked on a street corner and just old enough to be charming. Windows with drawn blinds teased at stacks and stacks of books, but even without approaching the door she knew it'd have a closed sign. Nina had told her when she first started at the coffee shop that the bookshop was never open, the owner liked having space for his personal library rather than actually selling any of his precious books.

Parked in front of the shop was a black Bentley. It was a vintage style though Y/N knew nothing about the year aside from it was older than 1980, and even then it was a hazarded guess. It was sleek, kept in prime condition. Inside one of the windows there was a film with two bullet holes printed on it, something that made Y/N smile. Her grandfather had one of them as well, said he'd bought it because of James Bond. In the back seat she spotted a cardboard box labeled 'troublemaker' with a plant sticking out of it. It's leaves were wilting. Somehow, without even being told, Y/N knew the Bentley was Crowley's.

She lingered in front of the doors. She wanted to knock, she had to knock, but it was bloody scary to face your entire past, present, and future in one go. But, with bravery unmatched since the laudanum accident in the '30s - the 1830s, that is - she knocked.

Behind the door she heard two voices talking, the deeper grumbling and getting closer as he walked to the door. Then it swung open with a gusto, revealing the shape of Crowley.

She swallowed. He was imposing, tall and thin as he peered down a just slightly crooked nose. His hair was beautifully curled back on his head, though the slightest hairs fell onto his forehead. Though his spectacles covered his eyes, she let out a breath knowing those eyes were still there. His eyes had been a constant in her life.

"We're closed- oh. It's you." He said, his voice getting hoarse as he stared at her.

"Who is it - oh! Dear, you're here. Come, come in." Aziraphale said from further in the shop, standing with a book in his hands and spectacles on his nose. He looked kind and sweet, back straight and plush, pink lips curved into a smile. Crowley moved aside for her, letting her cross the threshold with anxious steps. He slammed the door shut.

The bookshop was exactly as she expected. Stacks and stacks of slightly dusty book shelves, covered with as many books as possible. There were horrors, romances, histories, science fictions, fantasies and Bibles. A remarkable number of bibles actually. They had a whole row shoved full of copies of the Bible. Y/N didn't feel like analyzing why an Angel would want well over 20 copies of his group's history but who was she to judge? She owned 5 copies of her favorite book, the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Perhaps a little boring as it was a classic, but the story had hooked her since she saw the enamoring - although a slightly questionable choice to be a children's movie - Disney adaptation. One look into the music and she was glued to the story. The shop smelled of vanilla and old books, a combination that helped calm her racing heart.

"Hi," she said softly once she realized the unearthly beings were staring at her expectantly.

"Hi," Crowley said back. He hadn't taken his spectacles off, and she didn't like that.

"I, um, I love the shop. It's so warm."

"I can, err, lower the temperature if you require, dearest," Aziraphale said, wanting to help calm her but not knowing how.

"No, I meant the atmosphere is warm. Like a hug. But t-thank you," she said. Then after a pause she added, "Aziraphale."

"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?" Aziraphale said finally after a long moment where the three exchanged glances at one another, unaware of what to do next. The tension was so thick she briefly wondered if she jumped from a ledge if she’d be caught in it’s stupid bloody web. A weird and kind of stupid analogy but it seemed to bring her back to reality. Silly things always did.

She let out a breath, "fuck yeah."

Crowley chuckled at this, sauntering back to where he'd been sitting by Aziraphale's desk. Aziraphale gave a curt nod and went into some back room. She lingered by the door.

"C'mon over here, I don't bite," he said, taking a sip of wine from a glass she hadn't seen sit on the end table. His posture was sprawled on a comfy chair, one leg hanging over the arm of it.

"I'm beginning to doubt that," she said with a little laugh, grateful for his relaxed energy to bring down some of the tension. She walked over and sat on a sofa that was surprisingly comfortable, letting herself sink into the cushions.

"Only if you ask, darling," Crowley said with a wink. He immediately regretted the wink but tried not to let it show. He was never an intentionally flirty individual so when he did say flirty things, often by accident, he cringed at himself.

But she just flushed at his words and got comfortable on the sofa. She wasn't upset, in fact she shot back with a, "only in your wildest dreams, love." The term love sent his human heart racing and he quickly looked away. Only Aziraphale had made him feel this way and he hadn't even begun to process those emotions, let alone do it a second time for her.

Aziraphale returned with two steaming mugs of tea and a bottle of wine which he promptly handed over to Crowley. She thanked him and sipped the drink, letting out a happy sigh at the cinnamon thrown in. She loved cinnamon.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" Aziraphale asked, his eyes wide and full of concern. "It can be a lot to take in."

"I'll admit I've kind of been in a state of shock. It doesn't feel real. Not that I don't believe you, I mean you did stop time and I remember your ring. It's, it's kind of frightening, actually? If that doesn't sound childish."

"Earth's full of s'frightening things," Crowley said in a strange sort of reassurance.

"Right, well while I appreciate that sentiment, you two aren't from Earth. So it's another layer of frightening."

"Perhaps we could help ease your worry by answering some questions?"

"Oh, I don't know. I have so many, I don't want to waste your time." She said, running her tongue over her lips quickly. She was struggling to maintain eye contact.

"Darling, you aren't a waste." This kind statement came, surprisingly - or unsurprisingly depending who you asked, as Aziraphale watched with a fondness towards a certain demon Y/N couldn't explain - from Crowley. "We could ask you some as well if you'd like. Even the scales a bit."

She blew out a breath, nodding. Her heart was racing inside her chest. Strangely enough she did trust these two unearthly beings, but she didn't know what to do or say. She'd never imagine herself being in a situation like this before, and she couldn't fathom the words. They slid on her tongue but wouldn't come out. So she meekly said, "you first?"

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. Aziraphale smiled when he looked into Crowley's eyes, remembering how he and Y/N had agreed they were the demon's best feature. They made him look so kind, even if it seemed a roundabout sort of way. Crowley, on the other hand, was admiring the way Aziraphale guided what felt like such a new and unknown conversation. The Angel took lead with a breath and a kind smile, "what is your favorite dessert?"

Her mouth dropped slightly as her eyes lit up, she hadn't expected such an innocent question. "I- I don't know. I can be quite picky. Maybe Tiramisu? I quite fancy that."

"How lovely! Such a wonderful choice." Aziraphale clapped eagerly, now craving a nice cold Tiramisu with a warm cup of coffee right beside it. And of course water as a palate cleanser. Oh and perhaps -

"What-," she started, then seemed to lose steam. Y/N straightened, setting her mug down and sitting more firmly. "When did you meet me? First meet me?"

Crowley gestured for Aziraphale to start. The Angel began, "we met you in 55BC. You couldn't have been more than 25, maybe a little younger given you were unmarried at the time. Crowley and I went to eat oysters, and you were in a corner crying. Julius Caesar had just announced his invasion on Britannia, and you had a brother and father who were both in the Navy. You worried over their safety. I blessed you eternally, and Crowley cursed you eternally."

"What made you curse me?"

Crowley looked embarrassed, "I wasn't used to the whole cursing thing so it was a surprise for s'both. You tripped over my foot and called me an asshole."

Her eyebrows shot up and she laughed slightly. Then she stilled, searching her brain for as much memory as she could. It was hidden in the back of her head, hazy ideas of what happened with no coherent life story. She mused to herself that all those hyper realistic historical dreams she had must have some founding in her experience. Her experience. There was a Y/N that existed out of this body and this name, and she existed over 2,000 years previously. She was a sister and a daughter, she had fears and worries just like she did now. It was a frightening concept.

Crowley seemed to notice Y/N sink into herself, mind moving so quick with all these ideas. He couldn't well tell her not to overthink it because even trying to think about it was overthinking it, but he knew he had to be careful with it. Ease her into the world with little memories here and there. "You like Shakespeare?"

"Oh, I, yes I do. I love Shakespeare's works. I performed in one of his plays in secondary school."

"Which one?"

"Taming of the Shrew," she laughed. "Horrible meaning nowadays, but I was lucky enough to be Katherine. It was fun yelling and banging things up on stage."

Crowley and Aziraphale chuckled, they would have loved to see that performance. They imagined her standing brave, eyes sharp and shoulders pulled back as she spat venomous words to all of the men who dared to stand in her way. She was a passionate woman - time couldn't steal that - regardless of her acting ability, they wanted to see and feel it all.

"Did I ever see Shakespeare?"

"Funny you mentioned it, dearest, but yes. We met you once at Hamlet's rehearsals. You were quite enamored with the stage," Aziraphale looked wistfully into Y/N's eyes. "I know it seems odd to say given the strange circumstances, but it's one of my favorite memories of you. Before I realized who you were, I always thought fondly of the girl who broke in to see a Shakespeare show. You were so excited to be alive and experience life, that can be quite refreshing for an immortal creature."

Y/N's chest felt tight and she tried to swallow the emotion in her chest. She'd been there, seen it with her own eyes with people she didn't know she'd known and would know. The idea of reincarnation, of a soul going through the motions of life forever, haunted her and she suddenly felt as though she couldn't breathe. They were being wonderful with her, patient and kind. They knew that the concept of eternity wasn't easy, a brain couldn't wrap around it just right. It was so much, it was too much. She felt trapped and stupid, so stupid - shouldn't she be able to process this? Characters in film and book seem to understand the confusion around them like it was common sense, they don't panic over each thought related to what it is. Her chest was tight, she closed her eyes and tried to fight back tears she didn't know were there. This was too much, why would some God give all of this to humans?

She suddenly felt a hand along her back, gently rubbing up and down. It was Aziraphale, hands large, warm, and consistent along her spine. She released a shaky breath. "Breathe with me, dearest. Inhale... exhale. Inhale..."

Crowley appeared, sitting on the floor and leaning against the coffee table. He pointed to her hand and asked, "May I?"

She nodded and he lifted it, letting his fingers rub mindless circles into her palms. They were short and sweet, running up to her elbow and down to her finger tips. They made her shudder but in the best way.

Her heart started to calm down, the world stopped spinning beneath her. She focused on Aziraphale's warm hands on her back, Crowley's ginger touches to her arm. They were kind and gentle. It made her feel safe, it made her feel appreciated. In the back of her mind she felt those stupid, mindless thoughts about self loathing and incompetence.

Crowley seemed to sense these feelings. Whether he could read her mind or she was just that transparent she didn't know, but he jumped in. "Y/N, it'snot bad to question the universe. The universe is bloody strange, no one can make sense of it."

She opened her eyes now, blinking away the tears, and looked into his. His glasses were still on and she slowly went to remove them, to reveal the eyes she remembered. These eyes were raw, these eyes didn't lie. They were kind to her. She nodded.

"Dearest, if you are comfortable, would you like to take a rest? I have a bed upstairs if you'd like," Aziraphale said. She turned to look to him. His eyes were glassy and his nose pink, as though he was fighting to hold back tears himself. She liked his face, he had a pretty face. Pink lips with a perfect little Cupid's bow on the top, turned up in an attempt at a smile. She could tell he was struggling, wanting to help her.

So she nodded, stood up on wobbly legs and followed after Aziraphale up a winded staircase to a cozy bedroom. It was small, but covered with antiques and precious books on a desk in the corner. A large bed took up most of the room, made up nearly with beige sheets and many, many fluffy pillows. Aziraphale took his time fussing, folding back the sheets and making sure the pillows were just right. She climbed into the bed and laid her head down, smiling in affirmation.

"Now, dearest, we will be right downstairs. You remember that this situation is frightening, you are not wrong. If you need either of us just call."

She reached out for his hand and kissed his palm, muttering "thank you," against his skin. He nodded, flushed cheeks and ears, and hoped for her to sleep well. She closed her eyes, willing to be swept away in a world without fear.

—————

Aziraphale went down the steps quietly, meeting Crowley back where they were. Crowley had put his spectacles back on, sprawling in the chair. However, Aziraphale knew Crowley well enough to know that it wasn't as casual as it looked. He could tell by the way Crowley adjusted awkwardly that he, too, was trying to hide his emotions. Aziraphale sat down on the couch where Y/N had sat, his hands on his legs awkwardly before he sighed.

Aziraphale poured himself a glass of Crowley's wine, savoring the sharp taste. Crowley's brows shot up and he smirked, "bad day, eh?"

"I still do not understand the concept of sarcasm."

"It's funny, Angel."

"Hardly, if it was funny I would laugh."

Crowley chuckled to himself, sipping the wine. Aziraphale was so unintentionally hilarious sometimes. He glanced outside the window, peeking through the blinds as the sun started to slip behind the buildings. Crowley wondered vaguely how Y/N was feeling, wondered how they could ever make her feel better. There was no good way out of this situation, it'd never happened before and was certainly not going to happen again.

As Crowley thought about Y/N and the world, Aziraphale was caught thinking about the demon. He thought back to how kind he had been to Y/N, how he'd asked for permission to distract her with light touch. His reassuring words she hadn't asked for but he seemed to know she needed to here. The way he understood how terrifying the prospect of life truly was. Aziraphale had had this thought for a while, but it seemed to suddenly strike him that Crowley truly wasn't evil at all. In fact, he was kinder than most angels Aziraphale knew.

Questions. All it has been to cause Crowley to fall was some questions meant out of kindness. And yet questions were what he encouraged, what he did to help Y/N and help Aziraphale. He asked Aziraphale about anything, knowing how the Angel loved to learn and discover. He prompted him to reach farther, do better, not settle for what is known but look for more. Questions paved the way to understanding, which might not always lead to happiness, but it can settle the soul. Crowley had learned a long time ago that knowing is half the battle, but he'd rather stand half a chance than not at all.

"You were very kind to her," Aziraphale eventually said.

"Ngk, she was s'panicking."

"You didn't have to reassure her."

Crowley made a noise in the back of his throat as though he resented that statement, "yous might say that but when you trap someone to eternity, she deserves ki - not bad stuff."

Almost a dangerous slip up. Crowley was typically very aware of the words he spoke and how it could get him in trouble. Though his affiliation with Hell was pretty much done, they still had the power to torture him need be. No use letting the word out that he could ever be 'kind.' Crowley remembered what life was like after the 1830s, and his back seemed to burn with the memory. Scars that never truly heal, but reform, each step more painful than the last. But that was a moment for a different day, different circumstances.

Aziraphale went to speak, then doubted himself. Then he strengthened, reminding himself that things are different. He was going to make a move. "Crowley, I was planning to read my book. Would you - would you like to sit with me while I do?"

Crowley blinked, not understanding Aziraphale's poorly explained request, "I am sssitting Angel."

"Over here." Aziraphale said awkwardly, gesturing to the space around him.

Crowley didn't understand what Aziraphale meant. On the angels lap? Certainly not, neither of them were ready for that level of intimacy. Right beside him? Perhaps, but Aziraphale patted his thigh so perhaps not. The Angel cleared his throat, "I thought, perhaps, you could rest your head on my lap while I read."

Crowley's eyebrows shot up. Ah. Despite himself his cheeks flushed pink, but he wanted more than anything to fulfill the angel's request. He'd never dreamed that Aziraphale would prompt anything.

They stared at one another, realizing what this meant. In this moment they were acknowledging an unspoken part of their relationship, that they were certainly more than friends or acquaintances and far from enemies. That they might 'fancy' each other, as the humans say. This was their person, and they were wrapped eternally with one another. Crowley knew another fact, they were wrapped eternally with Y/N. And they couldn't make their relationship with her function if they could not understand themselves either. He also knew that Aziraphale looked very handsome, ankles crossed and book posed in hand as he waited for the demon.

Crowley sauntered over, laying closer to the edge so his legs could dangle off the arm. Then he let his head fall on the angel's lap. Aziraphale had very strong thighs, always had. They were warm through his trousers, and all of him smelled of vanilla and old books. Crowley let himself close his eyes, cherishing the warmth and surprising comfort of the position.

He felt soft fingers start to scratch lightly at his scalp, musing with his hair as gently as possible. Crowley let out a small moan at the feeling, Satan it felt good to have your hair played with. Aziraphale chuckled.

"What're you reading?"

"Henry V."

Crowley swallowed before asking, "Can yous read it to me?"

Aziraphale smiled, "of course, darling." He flipped back to the first scene for Crowley's sake. "The chorus sings 'O for a muse of fire, that would ascend the brightest Heaven of invention' ..."

Though they wouldn’t say the words until much later, until emotions seemed to swirl round them and they couldn’t not address it, this was the best way they could say it.

It crossed a demon’s mind for the first clear time, I’m in love with an Angel.

It crossed an angel’s mind for the first clear time, I’m in love with a demon.

—————

She woke up the next morning to the sun blinking through the blinds. She hadn't slept that hard in a long time and she let herself wake up slowly, sleep threatening to take her over again. Y/N sighed, that was nice. Aziraphale's room was organized chaos, and as she woke up she let her eyes adjust to all the little things throughout the room. Trinkets.

A snow-globe that looked like early 1900s, multiple copies of Beowulf in various conditions stacked on his desk, a note from Crowley signed with a large signature taped to the wall, a map of England with a pin sticking out of a town called Tadfield. A whole person's history in one collection.

Y/N was significantly calmer this morning that she was yesterday. She'd woken up for a moment during the night and began to let her mind wander to all the possibilities, before stopping herself and falling asleep. Today, she found herself more used to the idea. It was strange, uncomfortable even, but she wasn't panicking.

She got out of bed, rolling her ankles and stretching her body. Her bobble had fallen out during the night and she grabbed it to pull her hair back and out of her face. Then she carefully went downstairs, smelling the warm scent of baked goods wafting its way to her. When she entered a kitchen that seemed hidden behind rooms full of books, she saw Aziraphale in his vest and trousers paired with an apron covered in sweet little hearts.

"Good morning, my dear!" He said when he saw her. He was making some tea and gestured for her to take a seat at the island table while the kettle finished boiling. "How did you sleep?"

"Really well, actually," she said with a little laugh, her voice hoarse from her first words.

He turned to her, smile so genuine it shocked her, "I'm so glad to hear it. I am making us some cinnamon rolls. I've also decided to slice up some apples to go with it, I thought the freshness of the fruit might be nice first thing in the morning."

"That sounds amazing," she said. "Where is Crowley?"

"He said he had some business to attend to. Shouldn't be out long, I assure you, dearest."

She mulled over in mind what 'business' Crowley had. She knew from some of their explanations in the cafe that they don't necessarily work for Heaven or Hell as they used to, they're more or less independent. That left them to live life as they see fit, so what business could a demon have?

"Thank you, Aziraphale. For everything."

He glanced up, surprised. He came over and grasped her hand lightly, "my dear, this is a strange thing that has happened to you. Crowley and I wish to support you."

"If I can ask... why? You could have not told me, you could have continued without dealing with the consequences. I'd have never known."

"We couldn't do that. You didn't choose this, and we did not mean to do it."

"I don't want to be your responsibility, that's not fair either."

He blushed, "It's, err, it's more than that. We want to be with you. In whatever way you'll take us, myself and Crowley. If I may be forward, we've yearned for you for too long to lose you the first time we realize what we have."

"You've not even known me? I could be horrible."

"You are not horrible, dearest. I could feel it if you were. It's ... odd. Our souls are drawn to you and we want you in our lives, even without knowing the details. Both Crowley and I have longed for the woman with the strange encounters throughout time, and we finally found her. The souls are linked, even without reason, and we'll take you in any way we can."

Her mouth dropped open, forming a little shocked 'o.' That was hot. Is that weird to say that was hot? She'd never had a man - granted he wasn't a man just presenting male - confess wanting her, in any way, like that. It made her toes tingle and her heart warm, and she stared deeply into Aziraphale's blue eyes to be certain this was no joke. She knew he was an Angel but she put that aside and looked at him. He said they were drawn to her, and without saying the word implied they'd loved her for years without knowing. She isn't the sort this happens to, she doesn't have creatures who want to know her and understand her like this. It was a pure connection, one built on a link they couldn't understand but knew all the same. Mysterious ways of the Almighty and all. She kept looking into those eyes, searching for any sort of trickery. Despite herself, she knew he wasn't the sort to lie.

The kettle started to screech and Aziraphale pulled away to pour the cuppas, destroying the moment. He slid hers in front of her, just as she likes it. It was delightful.

Y/N watched Aziraphale move around the kitchen. He wasn't a particularly tall man, but he wasn't short either. She let her eyes fall along his strong forearms, revealed by his sleeves rolled to the elbow, lightly dusted with hair. His hands were capable, yet she knew they were soft. He might not be the most conventional sort of attractive, the type that movie stars are, but she was struck by him. Aziraphale had a draw to him that made her blush and glance down, suddenly shy in his presence yet knowing she was safe in who she is.

She realized that she wanted to know more about him, she wanted to hear his stories about his life, regardless of if she was in it. She wanted to know more about his relationship with Crowley, and what they had that seemed to be left unsaid. Y/N couldn't believe the fantastical reality that started playing in her head, a world where she lived and loved a demon and an Angel. Love was getting ahead of herself, she should be more careful. She longed for a good relationship with them, but that didn't mean that it had to be a romantic relationship. But, as she looked back at the Angel she sighed, damn did the Angel have great thighs.

"Dearest?" He asked, eyes wide and mouth just slightly parted as he stared at her.

She glanced down. Her tea had gotten cold and a warm cinnamon roll with apple slices on the side sat in front of her. "O-oh. Thank you."

"Is everything alright?" Damn him for sounding so sincere, blue eyes sweet like candy.

"You won't laugh?" She asked with a small smile, though she'd already made the decision to tell him honestly. She had a feeling lying would not make things easier in this relationship.

"No," Aziraphale answered precisely.

"I was distracted by you. You're so handsome."

Aziraphale seemed to have a little shock, as though he didn't believe that is what she said. "Pardon?"

"I," She laughed softly, embarrassed to revealing that so boldly. Y/N always admired those who were bold, and in the moments it was needed to she would, but she didn't often express those thoughts. Mainly for a fear of being seen as a creep, but also because rejection is a scary thought. But Aziraphale was sweet, and seemed flattered that she thought him to be handsome. "I think you're very handsome. I like looking at you."

His cheeks flushed pink and he took a rushed sip of his tea, "well, thank you darling. I- I hadn't quite expected that. I've been told I'm soft."

She laughed, "so? Soft isn't a bad thing."

"Do you like soft?"

"Sure, I like soft, I like hard. Besides, I believe personality and talent makes a person attractive anyhow, it's not too important what it might look like to society."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, there's plenty of people who look just as the world wants for beauty. And I don't mean to say they're unattractive, they are. But I personally believe that a kind, talented man who might be ugly to the papers is the most attractive you'll encounter. And a mean, untalented man touted as attractive tends to be ugly. Words change appearances."

"You're very wise, my dear," Aziraphale said with a warm smile, placing his hand over hers. She took a shaking breath, looking up at him. He was close to her now, hot breath that smelled of cinnamon hitting her cheeks as a hand lifted near her cheek, "May I?"

She didn't know what he was asking, but she nodded because she knew she'd relish in it all the same. First Aziraphale's hand went to the bobble round her hair, gently releasing it so it fell down. Her scalp itched from the strain, and his fingers gently massaged it. His hands were strong, capable.

She was struck for a moment with a memory that seemed forgotten. Her holding the hand of a kind stranger as she slid a finger onto his finger, the way he'd clutched hers as though he might lose her. They were warm then, kind. These hands had also blessed her when she wasn't looking, guided her safely home, and cared for her at the bank of the river at St James's park. For Aziraphale it was a flash, a mere second as the memories went through her mind but she felt them deeply, surrounding her. She could feel the dirt floor of the Globe theatre beneath her feet, or the way her heart had jumped when she spotted him in 1865. It was overwhelming and beautiful, she saw a whole person's history in her interactions with him, with them. It was stupid, it was silly, but she wanted to know them. She wanted to experience the life she could only remember in fragments.

Y/N hadn't realized that tears had come down her cheeks until those hands that spoke the history came to hold her face. She leaned into his touch, the pads of his thumbs wiping the tears away.

"My dear, may I?" Aziraphale asked, his voice suddenly huskier than she'd ever heard it. Her eyes opened, staring into his. He cried also, gentle tears down his sweet cheeks. She hadn't realized she'd been holding onto his vest.

"Aziraphale... I remember you."

That was the invitation, the consent, he needed. With a gentle sort of ferocity, Aziraphale leaned in and took her lips in his own. It was eager yet restrained as it held her in place, imploring her to feel all that he felt. All 2,000 years of yearning over an unknown idea. She kissed back with an intensity she didn't know she had. She hadn't much kissing experience, not the sort to fancy many people due to her high standards that seemed only met by non-humans, but with each inexperienced stroke she paired it with passion and enthusiasm. He guided her, led her through the kiss with grace. It was like a dance. It was messy at times, noses clashing and tear stained cheeks brushing, but it was perfect. It was Aziraphale and Y/N, and they seemed to understand what the other needed.

They parted from air, their mouths not far from one another's as they let out gasps. Y/N wanted more, this Angel was dangerously close to becoming her own brand of oxygen and that kiss was the best bloody one she'd ever had. Her first was a horrible sort, a lad with no lips and horrible breath.

Aziraphale leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Y/N's lips before pulling away more definitely. They were both right messes. Mouths swollen and pink, cheeks flushed, and hair ruined. Y/N hadn't even realized her hands had gotten buried in those soft curls, and his explored her locks that now hung free. She had a thing for good hair, and it seemed the Angel did too.

"Did - did I overstep any boundaries?" He asked, having to clear his throat. His voice came back to his normal register, though it seemed to ring with suppressed emotions.

"No," she said simply. "You didn't."

Aziraphale blew out a breath, letting his forehead fall against hers with a soft laugh, "I worried, my dear, that that was a rash decision on my part. You have only, technically, known me for two days."

"I've known you for a lifetime, love."

The nickname seemed to roll off her tongue, as it had the other night with Crowley. Comfortable, easy. And Aziraphale tried to stop the way his vessel's heart jumped at the thought of love. Too early, yes.

"Let's eat our breakfast, shall we?"

"I'm starved," she answered back, sitting on a bar stool and pulling her plate towards her. "This looks delightful."

They ate together with small bits of conversation intermixed between flushed glances when they caught the other staring at them. Aziraphale's food was as good as it looked, sweetness baked into a cinnamon delight that made her roll her eyes back. God she could eat this whole. Or, she supposed, she should say Aziraphale she could eat this whole, remove Her from the equation. Soon Y/N realized that she had a shift coming up at Nina's cafe, and needed to run to her flat to change.

"Your apron is at the front, dearest, with your purse from yesterday. We left them untouched."

"Oh, good, thank you Angel."

She went out and grabbed her purse, checking to make sure she had everything she needed. Then she realized her hair falling in her face. "Aziraphale?"

"Hmm?"

"I need my bobble back."

"Your what, dearest?"

"My bobble, hair tie thing. What you took out of my hair."

Aziraphale hummed as he walked into the main area and towards his desk, an odd yet attractive set of glasses on his nose. "I've not the faintest idea what you're talking about, love. Perhaps it fell."

Ah. Unlikely story. Especially unlikely given the bobble now on the angel's wrist. Guess he fancied her hair like that, round her face. She rolled her eyes and made to leave, before hesitating at the door. "Thank you, Aziraphale. For.. for taking me seriously. It's a strange idea, my soul being immortal and what not. I'm struggling to adjust. But I know that I want you and I want Crowley, I want to figure this out."

Aziraphale's chest seemed to lighten at the words and he smiled at the woman standing before him. She was beautiful and calm as she said this, her hair looking radiant. Y/N was quite right, he fancied her hair indeed. "I'm glad to hear that, Y/N. After your shift, if you'd like, you may come back to the bookshop?"

She smiled, "I'd like that. I, I think I'll pop round to my flat after work first to wash my hair. Let me write my number for you."

Y/N quickly scribbled her number on the front page of a very modern copy of Hunchback of Notre Dame, handing it to Aziraphale and saying, "it's my favorite book. Thought this new copy could handle the defacement."

Then she left quickly and the Angel watched her figure race past the door towards her flat, lips still pink from kissing an Angel.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #aziraphale x crowley #fanfiction #good omens fanfiction #fluff #aziraphale x crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader #so much fluff #angsty fluff #emotional hurt/comfort #binging broadchurch #accidentally made this a series #didn’t mean to but now there will be probably a part 3 and 4 #so sorry to the people who were really invested #sorry this is short

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