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star-girl69 · 4 months

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Because Of You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

synopsis: years after your rite of passage, the boy who’s heart you broke just won’t leave you alone. clarisse, your girlfriend, quickly decides she’s not a fan.

a/n: should i stop procrastinating and then forcing myself to write shitty fics quickly? probably. but not today!! this is kinda just like an au of dont delete the kisses but… you guessed it… IDC!!!!!!!! from this ask

thank you all so much for patiently waiting i love y’all soooooo muuccchhhhhh 🫶🫶💋 as i mentioned on my acc i have the next week off from school, pls expect more content then!!

Because Of You - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, this sucks so bad y’all sorry lolllll, y/n is a year round camper!, starts out very background heavy but i really don’t care 😭, creepy men UGH, ugly bitches not being able to let shit go, im gonna say sexual harassment just incase, swearing, usual demigod stuff y’all know what you’re getting into, jealous!clarisse YESSS, possessive!clarisse ik i screamed!!, protective!clarisse too, slightly graphic makeout scene, i think that’s all, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

When you were young, you were thrilled by the thought of love.

The idea of belonging not only with someone- bodies fitting together like puzzles pieces- but belonging to someone- wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Later, your half-siblings would describe mostly similar experiences to yours- an overwhelming desire to be loved, wanted, needed. Ever since you ran into camp with a monster hot on your heels and satyr shouting encouragement next to you- everyone’s stared at you. They poke and prod, they act like they’ve never seen a daughter of Aphrodite before.

It’s annoying, but it makes you feel good- but not quite.

Until Alek came along.

You were both 13, you still believed in soulmates, and you wanted nothing more than to be with each other for the rest of your lives.

You were 13, and he felt like the only one for you.

And when you had to break up with him to fulfill your rite of passage- it felt like the world was ending. You cried for days and begged your sister Phoebe to say it wasn’t a true, it was just a mean, mean prank.

But she couldn’t tell you that, and there were more types of love that romantic.

While you longed to hold someone, to be held- you also craved your mother’s approval like you were starving. You wanted her love, you wanted her to visit you in your dreams, you wanted gifts from her, you wanted everything and anything she could give you.

So, it hurt like you had never known hurt before, but you did it. Alek seemed entirely indifferent to it, almost ignoring you and pretending you hadn’t said it- but you felt a warmness around you, a dove flew between trees, you knew your mother was there and she approved.

Breaking up with Alek felt like the sun had exploded on top of you.

Being with Clarisse felt like the sun was wrapped around you.

—-

After Alek’s initial denial, he went through all the other stages of grief, mourned your relationship like you did, and you came out on the other side with a one-sided agreement to forget it ever happened.

Alek got stuck. Or went back. He started to believe that you were still meant to be, that much you could tell.

Until that day at the training fields when your hand slipped at archery and you almost shot Clarisse in the head- and she had glared at you so harshly while you ran over and examined her head, gushing out apologies and fretting over her.

She pushed you away, hand lingering for a second, eyes softening before she quickly looked away.

“Just… be more careful,” she had said, almost like a question, like she wasn’t sure the words were coming out of her mouth.

And, Gods, were you terrified it was all some secret plan. Make you think it was alright only to corner you in the woods and probably kill you, or something.

And when she asked the next day to teach you how to shoot a bow, you agreed with tears in your eyes, knowing of her reputation, and it took a lot of trust and a lot of swapped secrets for her to prove to you it wasn’t all some elaborate plan.

But even if her plan was to kill you the entire time, you fell in love over her fixing your stance, hands brushing as you accidentally grabbed the same arrow, stolen looks across the pavilion.

It wasn’t until a random kid bumped into you, making you fall and twist your ankle. Clarisse had this look in her eyes that was so genuine, so full of love and care for you, softly caressing your leg after she had punched the other kid in the face.

And you realize as she said you were doing great, limping while she helped you to the infirmary, that this was something.

And as much as you hated the violence being committed over you, it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and the warmth in your chest was all you had ever wanted. This was what it was like to belong with someone, to someone, with her, to her.

This was what it was like to be admired. Loved. Wanted. Needed.

And when she softly told you goodbye, you had kissed the corner of her lips and thanked her- turning to walk into your cabin, ankle already feeling better thanks to the ambrosia.

She grabbed you by the wrist and turned you around, pulling you against her tightly and kissing you so harshly like she had just found the secret to the world in her lips on yours, her hands on your hips.

And when she finally pulled away, embarrassing strings of spit connecting your lips, she said she was sorry. Probably the first time she had ever said that to someone, and you smiled.

“Sorry. It’s just… once your lips were on mine, I don’t think I can ever stop. I don’t wanna stop.”

And she kissed you again and it was all you ever wanted out of this life- to love and be loved, to hold and to be held, and it was all because of her.

—-

The welcome back campfire is your favorite time of year.

It’s when the camp comes alive, when the Gods themselves seem to return to this place- even Mr. D is a bit more lively with all the pure infectious energy running through the first few days of camp. Everyone’s getting settled, classes haven’t started quite yet, and the year round campers get a much needed break.

As much as you and Clarisse wanted to keep things private, when she punches someone in the middle of the pavilion for accidentally bumping into you, it’s not hard to figure out Clarisse cares for you more than she does anyone else.

And after one of your younger siblings, Cara, a 12-year-old notorious for staying up late, saw you and Clarisse kissing that first night- it spread like wildfire.

But it was the winter, so it still felt secret, until summer rolled around and Clarisse kept getting more and more annoyed by every camper who entered the gates. She would grab at you in the middle of meals, drag you into her bed, even kiss you in public- do all these things that seemed so out of character for her, but she was a different person when she was with you.

Everyone had been looking at you oddly all night, shocked, confused, even Clarisse has cracked a genuine smile at someone who dropped their drink- squeezing your hand.

Maybe they had all heard the rumors. Maybe they didn’t believe them.

But it’s all cleared up when Clarisse leads you to the best seat, the log not too far from the fire but not too close, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your temple.

Your cheeks heat up, only because Clarisse is never this touchy in public, and never around this many people before.

All of the eyes on you feel weird- they feel so judging.

And you’re not used to that, however vain it may be.

“Everyone’s staring at us,” you mumble, shuffling closer to Clarisse so your legs are pressed together.

She leans her head against your shoulder. “‘S okay. Don’t worry about ‘em, baby.”

You huff. “Did no one ever teach them it’s rude to stare, though? Like… c’mon.”

She sighs dramatically, lifting her head from your shoulder.

“Stop fuckin’ staring,” she says. Not quiet shouting, but her voice is loud and forceful. Her voice carries weight.

And eventually, at the risk of Clarisse’s wrath, all the wandering eyes stop.

A few of Clarisse’s siblings laugh from around you, commenting that the stares were getting a bit ridiculous, everyone just grateful that you all might get a little reprieve from the overwhelming stares and whispers.

But, you still feel uneasy. Clarisse kisses your shoulder.

And while you look around at the faces very pointedly not staring at you, there’s one person who still is. You roll your eyes, open your mouth to comment on it- but your mouth quickly snaps close at the sight of Alek.

—-

You don’t mention it to Clarisse. Maybe because breaking his heart haunts you, maybe what could have been haunts you.

You try not to think of Alek or that night, you try not to think of the entire age of 13. You always knew that Alek never quite let you go. He still sort of believed that the two of you would come back together- subscribing to some abstract belief soulmates.

You don’t think about Alek. Everything you do is because of her, because of Clarisse.

Sometimes, knowing you have secret admirers makes you feel all happy, but now that Clarisse sneaks you into her cabin every night- it makes you feel weird. You really don’t want anyone except for Clarisse, the idea of even being near someone else kinda disgusts you.

But, you choose to believe that maybe he was just shocked, and he’ll get over it in a few days.

You spend your days in the summer sun with Clarisse, holding her hand on walks through the strawberry fields, still using your archery lessons to spend time together, staring at each other from across the pavilion at meals, dreaming about a future together when it gets dark and you’re forced to whisper softly.

Alek is just always lurking. Is it coincidence? Is he stalking you? Every time you’re with Clarisse, trying to enjoy a nice date, he’s there- staring at you like a lovesick puppy.

And if it wasn’t because of her, you would probably be flattered. But you have Clarisse, you’ve moved on, you’re in love and happy.

It’s the late afternoon, you’re trying to enjoy a long moment with her, breathe in the sweet smell and just feel how happy you are, know it’s because of her.

The fields are still crowded with kids who pushed off their chores until the end of the day, so you and Clarisse stay on the outskirts. Not too far into the woods that’s filled with satyrs and nymphs who have grown very hostile towards any two campers who make their way into the woods. But not too close.

You don’t even register that other people are there. You’re going on about your annoying half-brother, she’s pretending to listen intently- but it’s just enough to be here with her, and at least she’s listening to the sound of your voice. At least that brings her some comfort, and that makes you feel good.

“And then, he said-” you trail off, feeling like something’s crawling all over you, practically being able to feel the anger in the air.

“Hm, what?” Clarisse asks, snapping out of her reverie at your silence.

Alek is glaring at you, of course. It just feels so juvenile. You had received letters from him for years- ones that he didn’t sign- but you knew. He said that the two of you had so much more to give together, that a second chance was all he needed to make you forget about the rite of passage, about pleasing your mother.

Clarisse squeezes your hand, leaning closer to you.

You used to like the feeling of getting those letters, of knowing you were loved and wanted. But now, with Clarisse, because of her- it feels wrong.

She follows your eye line and Alek quickly looks away, back down at the strawberries he’s supposed to be picking.

Clarisse’s hand tightens around yours.

“Who the hell is that?” she huffs.

You suck in a breath. “Alek.”

“Al-huh?”

You smile, despite how uneasy you feel.

“Alek, Clarisse. From my rite of passage?”

“Oh,” she nods, nose scrunching ever so slightly. “The one who left you those creepy letters? Has he left anymore?”

“No, no,” you say, risking one more glance at his back- just to assure yourself. Maybe you’re just making it all up. “Not since last summer. I mean, he was staring at us the night of the bonfire too, he’s always around on all our dates- it’s just creepy, at this point.”

“Sounds like the fucker has a death wish,” she drawls. “I’d be happy to help him with it.”

You bump her shoulder with yours. “Yeah, yeah Miss Violence.”

She smiles back, but she searches her eyes and you can tell she doesn’t like what she sees.

“Hey, c’mon. I’ll kill him if he pulls some shit again.”

“Clarisse.”

“Beat him up?”

“Clarisse.”

“Physically threaten him?”

“Clar-”

She smacks her hand over your mouth. “Shhh,” she smiles. “Don’t stress. I’ll take care of it.”

“Clarisse!” you shout, laughing, but her hand is still pressed tight over your moth.

“Oh, sorry, baby, I can’t hear you!”

“Bitch,” you hiss, and she frowns.

“Mean.”

—-

Clarisse, unfortunately, is true to her word.

Alek finally leaves you a note. It’s simple, unsigned, but obviously him. You recognize his chicken scratch scrawl.

All it says is:

I miss you, we could be something

She writes him a note back, a long one- first talking about all of her accomplishments as a daughter of Ares, then detailing all the ways she’ll make him regret thinking about you.

She tells you now, whispers in her bed, she laughs and your mouth hangs open.

“Clarisse!” you gasp, scolding her with a soft hit to her shoulder.

She rolls her eyes and moves closer to you.

“What else was I supposed to do? Ignore it? You don’t know me if you think I could just ignore some random dude flirting with my girlfriend. He’s a fuckin’ weirdo, and hopefully that note will teach him somethin’.”

“I mean. I doubt it will,” you mumble after a moment.

She smiles, your heart squeezes- because her smile is so beautiful- and because Clarisse never smiles like this. It’s bloodthirsty. It’s almost inhuman. It’s Godly.

“Then I’ll have to teach him in… other terms.”

—-

Dinner this evening is slow and relaxed. It’s Friday, so you’ve all made it to the end of the first official week of camp. Chiron let’s the rules fade away tonight, cabin tables have been abandoned and everyone sits where they want.

A few Hermes kids volunteered to start a fire, Mr D is busy trying to get the new kids to sneak him some alcohol- but he’s hard pressed to find ones who haven’t already been warned not to.

The energy in the air is infectious. The promise of a late wake up tomorrow, a fun night, the feeling of the moon and the fire, warmth on your skin- it’s a recipe for lowered inhibitions, for everything to come a little easier.

Clarisse sits next to you a table in the pavilion. You’re surrounded by Silena and Beckendorf, a few Hermes kids, a few Ares kids- a big mosh of random campers squeezed together at this one table- but it works, for whatever reason.

There’s nothing like laughing at someone’s shitty joke and feeling Clarisse laugh with you, pressed close to her so you can feel her chest rumble, feel her arm squeeze around you.

“He did what?!” Silena screeches, looking at you with wide eyes.

You laugh at her shock, at the audacity of Alek.

She sneaks a quick glance at Clarisse, who seems entirely engrossed in her siblings’ arm wresting tournament at the next table over.

“Yeah,” you sigh, feeling sort of complacent with it now. It’s not like anything will change. You’re here because of her, because of Clarisse. Everything you do is because of her.

Breathing, eating, sleeping. Basic human functions and the need to survive has only strengthened with the motivation of staying alive for her.

“Anyways,” you smile. “Clarisse left him back this big, long note. All about how she’s the strongest girl at camp,” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too big to be anything but joking. Besides, everyone knows she’s probably right. “And then threatened him a whole bunch. So, hopefully, he’ll just get his head out of his ass and then everything will be good again.”

You breathe out at the end of your small rant, and Silena smiles sympathetically.

“Hopefully,” she echoes.

But, because of Clarisse, because of her arms around you, you don’t feel anything but peace.

—-

Of course, life is not straightforward for demigods.

At the end of the day, you’re doomed to fall in your parents footsteps- except there is no immortality for you to fall back on. You’re vain and you’re proud, just like your parents, and you step too far, jump too high, and you’re as left dust on the floor.

Even though the same path had been left out for you to repeat, doomed footsteps to follow in, you step where they stepped and expect a different end.

The night is pitch black, besides for the brilliant stars and the bright, bright moon. It makes everything feel so private and secret. It makes Clarisse relax, makes her hold you closer but looser.

It feels good to feel her arm loose around you. She’s not afraid of you disappearing, because she knows of someone dragged you away you would rise up from the waves and straight back into her, into her arms.

The Apollo kids are playing music, voices hum along, the night is on fire with the crackles and the rising smoke, on fire with the peace, the content.

It feels like nothing can hurt you here.

But you’re a demigod, and life is not that easy.

The seat next to you is abandoned, and you barely even take notice as it’s quickly filled again- but you take notice of the eyes on you, of the body leaning forward to speak softly to you.

The fact that he’s here, the fact that he blatantly didn’t listen- you suppose you could have felt some sympathy for before, craving a life that wasn’t his anymore. Living off of memories made him too hungry.

Your mouth presses into a thin line as you recognize the voice in your ear.

“Y/N, I jus’ wanna talk.”

The rest of the table has fallen silent, and you realize everyone had almost immediately taken notice of his entrance- and you could tell by the way Clarisse’s body was tense against yours- he would regret ever coming over here.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, shifting closer to her.

She hooks her head over her shoulder, shifting completely so she’s straddling the bench, pressed up against your back.

Her tone is genuinely confused.

“Are you, like, okay in the head?”

The table, previously silent with fear, now bubbles with forced laughter.

“It’s not of your business,” Alek says, staring directly into your eyes. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, just completely shocked, too scared to move like it will all become real.

Clarisse puts her hand on your forehead and floats it down across your face, and your eyes voluntarily flutter shut.

“You’re not even worthy of being looked at by her,” and you can hear the smile on her voice. She confidence seeping from her pores- you can feel it all with the way she’s protectively wrapped around you.

“Y/N,” he says again, ignoring her through gritted teeth. “I just want to talk.”

“If you say one more fuckin’ word to my girlfriend I’m gonna kill you.”

There’s no smile on her voice, no edge of a joke. Not even angry. She’s deathly calm. She’s focused, like a 20 pound weight sinking to the bottom of the sea. She cuts through whatever she has to and everything else knows to avoid her.

You don’t know why the hell Alek just can’t let the 13 year old version of you go, why he’s looking something where there’s nothing, and you’re just so done with all of this.

You open your eyes, sitting up, letting Clarisse’s arms fall around you in confusion.

“Alek,” you start, softly. “We dated for a month when we were 13. That’s all it was, that’s all it’s ever gonna be. It’s over, okay?”

“Exactly,” he breathes. “A month when we were 13- and we were that good together? We could do so much more now, I wanna show you.”

“Okay, I’m done,” you mumble, standing up.

And without you in between, Alek finally gets a good look at the daughter of war. She’s pure, streamlined muscle. Every inch of her body has been meticulously trained to kill monsters- Alek knows that killing him would be easy.

Clarisse cracks her knuckles and you almost laugh at how cinematic it is.

—-

You hum as you run the alcohol pad over her split knuckles. Clarisse likes to leave the scars like this, the small ones, let them heal on her own. Even though she winces at the feeling, you know she’ll be walking around, proudly showing off her scabs until they finally fade away. She’ll cross her fingers and hope they scar, probably.

Clarisse watches you with admiration, admiring your movements, your voice, even though you’re really not doing anything special. But, to her, everything you do is special.

“Did you see how bad his face was?” she asks, trying to remain calm, but eagerness slips into her voice.

“I did,” you laugh. “It was real bad, baby. Good job.”

She huffs, as if it’s common knowledge.

“I always do a good job, just matters what level of good I’m on. I think this was one of my best works though, huh?”

She admires her split knuckles and you roll your eyes, finally starting to put some bandaids on the clean wounds.

“You’re crazy,” you mutter.

She shrugs. “You’re the one who let me. You’re the one who loves me.”

“Yeah,” you mumble after a moment, not really wanting to lie to her, tease her right now. She smiles soft and sweet, placing her fingertips against your jawline and leaning forward.

“Did you like watching me?” she breathes, her low voice hitting you right in the stomach, breath against your lips.

You circle her biceps with your hands and run them up and down the tense muscle.

“You know I did.”

“Three months no dessert,” she smiles.

“Three months of sharing with you,” you laugh. She smiles wider before finally, mercifully, putting her lips on yours.

Everything you do is because of Clarisse. It feels so good to be close to her like this- practically in her lap- fo feel how strong she is, to know what she did for you today.

It feels so good to know she loves you.

When you pull away, trying to chase her, she dodges you and kisses your jawline, your neck, and you throw your head back and release the most unladylike sounds as she leaves hickies on your neck, seemingly determined to make them as dark as possible, as easy to see. And a lot of them.

“Jealous?” you say, biting your lip to keep in a moan.

“Just want everyone to know you’re my girl. Want everyone to know who makes you feel good, feel loved, huh?”

You stomach twists and your mind goes blank.

“Huh?” she repeats, sticking her face in your neck to breathe in and out, catching her breath. “Why you feelin’ like this, baby?”

“Because of you,” you breathe. “Because of you, Clarisse.”

—-

y/n walking around the next day looking like she got attacked by a vampire

silena trying to be happy for y’all but also concerned for your health

clarisse just being proud as hell

—-

this was small so idk if y’all picked it up but clarisse was jealous before alek even came along- jealous that there were more campers coming! like? she just doesn’t like unworthy losers looking at her girl 🙄

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possessive!clarisse i love you so much baby

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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kaylinelizabeth4004 · 9 months

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Heaven is Here

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

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

WORD COUNT : 12,253

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

55BC—————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pity, they are quite delectable."

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

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

"She looks happy," Crowley said.

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

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

"What was sarcasm?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Angel..."

"Yes?" He was avoiding eye contact

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

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

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

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

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

"And that's ironic?"

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

"Why yes I do think-"

"Angel, that was irony."

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

"We?"

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

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

"Well, yes but-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No, I s'pose not."

"What can I do for you?"

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

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

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

"Hurt by his own army?"

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

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

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

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

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

"No, it wouldn't be."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not going to help are you?"

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

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

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

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

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

1377—————

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

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

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

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

"Churches are built by humans."

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

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

"It is not."

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

Aziraphale pursed his lips, "I suppose not."

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

"That is your concern?"

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

"He's a child."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crowley sighed, "Right I'm sorry -"

"- that really hurts -"

"- I know, I know -"

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

"-we had this conversation in 1066 -"

" - I did not appreciate that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pardon?"

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

"I never said that."

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

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

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

"Come now-"

"A dance? You want an 'I was wrong, You were right dance'? You can't be serious, Angel."

"I am serious, you wily serpent. Now do the little dance or I'll never forgive you," Aziraphale said in mock frustration, puffing out his chest.

Crowley saw before him a choice, between what his lot were bound to and Aziraphale. And without a second thought, he chose Aziraphale. He would choose Aziraphale every time, he just didn't know it yet. And so, despite all the humiliation he knew this would cause him if the bosses down under ever found out, Crowley did the little dance.

Aziraphale watched, eyebrows raised in shock. He hadn't thought Crowley would do it. Certainly not for him. But as Crowley bowed, enunciating his t's with a flourish, he couldn't help but smile.

"Very nice."

"Are we good, now?"

Aziraphale beamed, "quite right, dearest. We are quite right."

Crowley let out a breath, adjusting his glasses as though they would hide that dance from history's books. "Well then, let's get a move on."

The pair followed the parade into the banquet hall, and continued with the affair. Aziraphale literally wiggled in his seat when the food was placed before him, so excited he couldn't sit still. Crowley drank the wine, actually quite good for English wine.

Then the dancing started. King Richard - now Richard II - climbed on top of the table and proclaimed everyone to dance. And so, the nobles in their fancy gowns, drunk and laughing to no end, jumped from their seats to join in the dance. Aziraphale sat still for a moment, not knowing what he should do. Angels don't dance, not really. But this Angel longed to dance.

Crowley saw the way his fingers tapped along the table to the beat. He groaned, getting up from his seat.

"S'alright Angel, up up."

"Pardon -"

"You heard what I said. Come on Angel, let's dance."

Aziraphale giggled and got up, following Crowley into the chaos of swirling dresses and flirtatious looks between anyone and everyone. Almost immediately they were separated, swung by different partners.

Crowley danced with an older woman who squeezed his buttocks when she thought he wasn't looking. He wasn't fond of dancing, not the way Aziraphale was, but he enjoyed the freedom of it all. There were no rules, not really. Yes some people liked the structured ones where you pose and turn on every 3rd beat or what not. But in dancing there was an air of just living - being truly alive. That's what it was all about, it's all anyone yearned to feel.

In the next turn to switch partners, time seemed to slow for Crowley. He saw her, flitting between the people to slide her arm into Crowley's and continue the dance. She was pretty in an unconventional way. A way society might not call beautiful, but made Crowley stop and stare. He was pulled towards her, as though he couldn't control it. She was the center of his focus and he wanted nothing more than to meet her. Then, she turned that pretty gaze on him. Her lips quirked into a smile, hands warm and soft as they held his tightly. Her skin was flushed from the dance, and her dress swung around her in bright, dashing colors. The last dance had ended and all the people were gasping for air yet still ready to dive into the next.

"Hello," she said softly, though somehow he heard her voice over the crowd.

"Hello," Crowley answered back, not sure what to do. He'd never been in this position before.

"A dance?" She asked, taking a deep bow before holding her hand out. Palm up. She wore one, golden signet ring.

"I'd love to," Crowley answered honestly, taking her hand and pulling her into him.

She giggled happily, throwing an arm around his neck as he led the pair towards the center of the dance floor. He started to laugh along with her. Their dancing wasn't particularly good, both of them knew that, but they were having fun. She would twirl away only to twirl back into him awkwardly, laughing so hard she snorted which only caused a barking laughter from Crowley. They continued forward, holding each other close until the final pull drew them chest to chest. She was shorter than he, and she glanced up through dark lashes.

"Hi," she murmured, her breath hitting Crowley's face. She smelled of wine and temptation. He looked into her eyes and there it was - that one moment in history he thought was a fluke.

It had been 1,432 years, not like he was counting, but he didn't forget the way the golden band seemed to fleet over her eyes back in 55BC. And now, he saw that same golden shine slide over the same pair of eyes. It was just a second and yet it made Crowley's mouth drop. She saw it too, but for different reasons. He watched as she looked at his lips, he could tell what she was thinking.

She went to lean in, breasts pressed against his chest and breath hot, but was ripped away by the next dance. She giggled wildly as she was pulled into a circle, but found herself glancing over her shoulder to stare at the handsome stranger she almost kissed.

As Crowley stood in the middle of the floor, mystified, Aziraphale went over to his table to get a drink. All this dancing was positively amazing, but it certainly drained one of their energy.

As he brought the cup to his lips, a body crashed into his, sending the crimson liquid all over his clothes.

"Oh, bugger," he said, setting the cup down to assess the damage.

"I am so sorry, sir!" A girl said, breathless as she ran over. "That was entirely my fault. Please, let me help you clean it. I'm sure there's a tub not far."

Aziraphale smiled politely and went to decline the kind offer, but when he looked into her eyes he found himself agreeing to go with her. She lit up with excitement, grabbing his hand and pulling him away. There was something about her, something he couldn't explain. But he was in awe of her movements and eager to learn more about her.

She turned into an empty hall near a bathroom. She had him wait here while she collected a basin of water and grease.

"I can't promise it will fully work," she said as she set it down, "but I'll do my best. I really am so sorry, sir. I would have never ruined your clothes intentionally."

"It's quite alright. They weren't my favorite anyway," he said as he removed the outer layer. His multiple layers undergarments were fine, and could suffer slight staining. It was the outer garment that changed the most.

She shook her head as she dunked it in the basin, "you can't mean that, sir."

"I find that I quite do," he said, watching her with a quite awe.

"What's your name, sir? I feel I've seen you before," she said, suddenly watching him with the same astute attention. She kept narrowing her eyes as though she'd remember.

Maybe it was the stain, the wine, the party, the demon nearby, or maybe it was just this woman that did it to him but without realizing, he answered honestly, "Aziraphale."

Her eyes lit up, "like the Angel?"

"Precisely, my dear."

"That's a beautiful name. Aziraphale, Aziraphale... can you believe it?" She mumbled the last bit to herself, rubbing liberal amounts of grease into the fabric.

"Do you have a connection to the name? Or the Angel, perhaps?" Aziraphale asked curiously, wanting to hear more about her.

"I do, strangely enough. It's a silly connection..." she said, absentmindedly turning the signet ring over and over on her hand.

"I rather find that when it comes to angels and demons, nothing is silly." Aziraphale chose to neglect some of the more strange decisions the staff had made.

"I, well, oh goodness it sounds all made up. Well, I was in the shops the other day. My friend makes jewelry and he's very good. I came by and he said a man dropped off this gold signet ring with the name Aziraphale burned into it. Said he didn't know what to do with it, not many people knows the Angel, and he gave it to me." She took the ring off her finger, staring at it with an admiration before holding it out to him. "It's your name. You should have it."

"Oh I couldn't possibly take from you, dear."

She shook her head, "no it's not taking. It's a gift. It's fate, that I should have a ring for an Aziraphale just before meeting one of my very own."

"Oh dear, I couldn't -"

She interrupted him by pressing a soft kiss to the ring, taking his hand and sliding it onto his pinky finger. When she looked up, still holding his hand, Aziraphale's jaw dropped. That golden shine. Where had he seen that before? It was brief, flashing over a pair of kind eyes, but it was there all the same.

"Please accept this, Aziraphale."

"I - I will. Thank you, my dear."

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale saw her after that night. They didn't know her name, her status, or even really remember her outfit. If Cinderella was around, she would have been the prime candidate for it. Neither told each other about their experience with a strange woman until 150 years later as they talked about Henry VIII's decision to have Anne Boleyn beheaded. Nasty business that was.

1601—————

"He's really quite good," Aziraphale said, watching fondly as the actor of Hamlet lamented about life and death. It really was moving the way he toyed between truly living a life, or if death was not truly what life was about.

Aziraphale found himself doing that 'excited sigh' that Crowley described. He found it an odd way of saying his behaviors, but Crowley insisted that when Aziraphale was excited it wasn't a 'satisfied sigh' but an 'excited sigh.' To be fair, he'd said this after 2 whole bottles of wine and a shot of pure vodka, so Aziraphale couldn't grant its true authenticity. A drunk demon would truly say anything just to illicit a reaction.

The speech made him wonder what it was like to be a human, with no certainty about what happens with their souls. They don't have a guarantee about life, or death, and yet are expected to do as they are told with no questions. Crowley knew what it was like to ask questions, and it lead to scars even Aziraphale didn't know about.

"Ngk, s'pose so." Crowley grumbled, watching as the man stamped his foot on the stage. "Bit dramatic, no?"

"It'd a tragedy!" Aziraphale countered, furrowing his brows in surprise.

"Eh, I still prefer the funny ones."

Aziraphale shook his head, turning to watch the man on the stage. A flash of purple fabric caught his eye, and his gaze traveled to see a young woman peaking out from behind the railing. She was trying to stay hidden, but Aziraphale could see that she just couldn't resist the temptation to watch the rehearsal. Her eyes were bright and wide, soaking in the sight. Her clothes were dirty and well worn, a few sizes too big and the hem covered in a layer of mud. But despite it all, she looked entirely unique.

She was pretty, and Aziraphale didn't often feel as though many humans were pretty. He appreciated the art of humanity, and believed each human was their own work of art. But he didn't feel a pull to any of them, but her... she had an attraction to her. He could see her lean too far over the edge, as though the stage were dragging her in. It wasn't just a love and an admiration, it was an addiction. Aziraphale could see what was going to happen moments before it did, but it was too late. The girl tumbled over the edge and fell onto the floor of the Globe, catching the attention of everybody in the rehearsal space.

Her cheeks immediately blotted pink, covering her face in a rosy hue as the stage manager came to her with a snarl, "oi, who're you?"

"I-I-"

"You's not supposed to be 'ere," he said, grabbing her roughly by the arm and dragging her to her feet. She stumbled along as he pulled her to the entrance. "Out with you."

"Mary? Whatcha doin here?" Crowley called out, sauntering over to the man and the girl. The man stopped, looking at Crowley with a skeptical gaze. The girl's eyes widened, bright and eager, as she realized what Crowley was doing and she nodded vigorously.

"Yes, sir, I came to fetch you! Mistress Paulson requested you." She said quickly, trying to stand on her own despite the stage manager's tight grasp.

The man cocked an eyebrow, "oh yeah? You know's him?"

"Know me? Know me?" Crowley sauntered over with a cackle, "me's and Mary goes way back."

She nodded, ripping her arm from the man's grasp then standing politely. "Oh yes, Mr..."

"Oh don't bother with all the Mr Crowley Miss whatever business, just call me Anthony like any other bloke."

"Anthony has helped my sister much. He's an excellent doctor," she said, standing firm. Aziraphale watched her in awe, he was impressed. She picked up that Crowley was saving her quickly, easing into the lie with an expert comfort. She seemed familiar, as though they'd met her before. And most importantly, she was intelligent.

"Doctor? You didn't mention that about your friend," the man said to Aziraphale, his enunciation so poor he practically spat the words at Aziraphale's feet.

Aziraphale flashed a charming smile, "I hadn't realized that those particular skills would, uh, come up in a theatre of this, err,... caliber."

"I haven't the pleasure of meeting you, sir." The girl piped up, her smile was warm and gentle. But he could see in her eyes a tension, wanting to convince this man to not throw her out or worse - press charges. "My's names Mary Edwins. Friend of Mr Crowley."

Mary Edwins, clearly a fake name. Just basic enough to be believable, but enough slight hesitation that Aziraphale knew she was lying. She gave a little curtesy, spreading the oversized purple skirt over the floor. It really was too large, but she still looked charming. Aziraphale felt as though he'd seen that curtesy before. There it was, fast you could have blamed the lighting, Aziraphale knew better. There that same golden shine came over her eyes, if just for a moment. His mouth fell open in a little 'o,' unable to speak for a while 10 seconds before stuttering out, "oh, h-hello Miss Edwins, I'm Mr Fell."

The stage manager thought on it for a moment, before deciding that he wasn't paid enough to care. It was hours away from opening night, after all, and the little boy playing Ophelia needed alterations in his costume.

"Alright then," he said, walking back towards the director, a Mr William Shakespeare.

The girl was still a few feet away as Crowley walked dramatically back towards Aziraphale. The Angel tried to ignore it. He hadn't mentioned that part of it with Crowley, and he didn't know how to continue. Crowley mistook Aziraphale's expression as one of angelic smugness and rose a finger, "shut it, Angel."

"That was a good thing you did," he said with a little smile. He pushed it to the back of his mind, something to worry about when it was late and the city was asleep.

"Twasn't good, no. I was, real, I - I - I was bad. I let a criminal get away."

Aziraphale patted Crowley's shoulder, "no, dearest. You let a woman enjoy her passion. Look at her, you've saved her."

The pair glanced over at her as she tried, and failed, to subtly watch the actors get ready for their next scene. Her hand was on her heart, as though if she didn't put it there her heart would pop right out.

"Ehhh, that's not saving. Not really."

"Oh, it's not? Then what would you say is a human's purpose?" Aziraphale asked with a soft voice.

"I thought that's your job, Angel. Praising God and what not."

Aziraphale pursed his lips, looking away from Crowley. "You know as well as I that love of God is not all humans were made for. I am of the firm opinion they are here for their passions. They survive by it. They might be able to live with food and water alone, but no soul could truly exist without their drive. And this woman, her passion is theatre."

"Rather blasphemous words from an Angel."

"Rather kind actions from a demon."

Aziraphale smiled, looking towards the stage. Crowley tried to hide the blush on his ears and cheeks. It was always his ears that turned bright red from, from, well he didn't quite know from what. But he felt the heat and looked away. He looked at the girl, who perked your once she realized he saw her. She went over shyly.

Despite her apprehension, she raised her voice enough to say, "thank you for your help, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."

"Mmm," was Crowley reply, gazing around the globe with a distinguished air about him. As if he was the most important person in the room. He tried to ignore her presence. She had a pull to her and he couldn't explain it, didn't want to address it. He already had the issue of a certain Angel who wouldn't leave his mind.

"Who are we to stop the love of the arts?" Aziraphale said, rather eccentrically. "Though you could have waited a few hours to see the whole show."

"I can't afford it," she said quietly, staring at her feet. Aziraphale noted her sweet little boots, their pointed ends digging into the dirt out of anxiety. "My mistress only gave me the morning. I need to be back in an hour."

Crowley and Aziraphale shot a glance with one another, not quite knowing how to respond. They stood in silence, the girl's eyes wide as she drank in Ophelia's mad lullabies.

"What's your name?"

"Mary Edwins."

Crowley smiled, "nice try, love. Your real name."

She cocked an eyebrow, glancing up at first at Crowley, then at Aziraphale, before looking back at her reflection in his sunglasses. "Why do you want to know?"

"We did help you, dear. We'd just love to know you, but if you cannot tell us, we won't rush you."

"Are you two a couple?" She asked quickly, pointing at the two and waving her hands in some strange, gesture of coupling. Her choice of question was so drastic, they didn't bother to notice the intentional diversion in topics.

Aziraphale looked up, mouth dropping in a little 'o' and he looked at Crowley. Crowley lifted a brow. Aziraphale answered, "We've known each other for a long time."

"That doesn't answer my question, Mr Fell."

"Aren't you a sly one, Miss Edwins." Crowley sneered, his top lip recoiling.

She just smiled, shrugging her shoulders with a little giggle. "Suppose so, Mr Crowley."

The golden shine. Crowley sucked in a harsh breath as she turned to look back at the stage. He could practically hear all his thoughts as they raced through his head, and he was unable to settle on just one. Those eyes. He hadn't seen them in years and yet this was the third woman who just happened to flirt with him, and had a gold shine go across her eyes. He reckoned she didn't know it happened, she probably didn't know what those little eyes could do to an immortal creature. Crowley swallowed, praying she never had to.

Then, the show continued and 'Mary's' eyes seemed transfixed. Aziraphale loved the theatre, Crowley enjoyed it, but 'Mary' adored it.

Crowley watched her eagerly, partly out of curiosity and partly because he liked feeling her passion in his soul as though it was her own. He found himself attracted to it, a drag of one's purpose. The passion filled her up, and she seemed to want to lean into it. She gasped as Hamlet killed his mother, she listened with eager ears as he instructed the actors on how they were to act, she cried as it seemed that everyone fell to the floor in a miserable death. Then, it was over. Actors stumbled to their feet, laughing as though they weren't stabbed with poisoned rapiers. The story was over, but 'Mary' seemed to be in a daze. Crowley watched with shrewd, yet eager eyes as she came out of it.

Then she straightened her back, smiling tightly to both of them. "Mr Fell, Mr Crowley, thank you for letting me stay. It has been such a gift. I'm afraid I must go."

"Let us escort you home," Aziraphale said, without realizing what he was offering.

She blinked wide eyes, "there's no need, sir. It's two blocks away."

Crowley lifted his chin, "love, we'd like to see you off safe."

"If you insist. Though I must tell you it's entirely through the city. Eyes will be on you at all times," she said it as a threat, a reminder to not do anything unsavory. Crowley almost frowned at that little bit of false hope. If they actually had bad intentions, a crowd wouldn't stop anything. She wasn't truly safe. But both Crowley and Aziraphale nodded, as though they truly headed her warning.

"Was that your first Shakespeare production?" Aziraphale asked, making polite conversation as he walked on one side of her, Crowley on the other.

"Oh, no. I do my best to attend all of them. I tend to prefer the funny ones, but the crowds can be a bit much for me."

"Eh? What'd you mean by that?" Crowley asked.

She blushed, "I don't like when crowds get very loud. They tend to jeer and toss things at the actors. It doesn't feel safe for anyone. I do enjoy his dramas though."

They walked in companionable silence for a moment before she asked the next question, "what do you two do? If I may, you're dressed rather odd."

"Odd?" Crowley asked with a frown, gazing down at his outfit. He was quite proud of this outfit. The ruff was amazing, really helped one feel confident.

'Mary' giggled. "I don't dislike your outfits, you just don't see these colors often."

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance, shifting in their outfits. Perhaps they do cling to their colors a bit much. But Aziraphale never felt it was a problem, he was proud of his wardrobe.

"I make my own clothes," Aziraphale said with a smile.

'Mary' lightened up, her eyes taking on a bright, sparkling quality before she actually smiled, a little tell that Aziraphale noticed. He'd seen that before, but couldn't place it. "That is quite wonderful, Mr Fell. I'd love to make my own, however I mostly sew for my mistress."

"You make her clothes?"

"Oh no, I tend to mend them."

The conversation lulled again, and Crowley bit his lip as he thought before asking the question that has been on his tongue since the play ended, "why do you love theatre so much?"

Her chest flared, her eyes wide and sparkling, and she could barely contain the words before they poured from her in excited spurts, "what's not to love? It's stories about being human wrapped up in fancy costumes and dramatic voices. It's full of stories that seem so outrageous yet we still find our way to connect. Isn't it just fascinating that you could watch a show about a man, driven mad by jealousy caused by a deceiving friend, murdering his wife and leave full of emotions? You'd think you'd be mad at the murderer, condemning him for killing his love. And yet, there's more to it than that. You can't quite hate Othello, but you can't love him either. It's so hard to explain what it is to be human, there's no word or sentence to explain it. It can be so isolating. But these stories can give us insight. I, sorry, I'm rambling," she said, taking a wistful sigh.

"Stories can be found anywhere, dear. Books, especially," Aziraphale noted. He enjoyed hearing her speak with such fire. In the back of his mind, he felt as though he could recall someone else talking about their love of stories, but he couldn't place it.

She nodded, smiling. "Yes, of course. And I adore books too. It's just... theatre is such a temporary art. Those moments on stage, or watching, could never be recreated, it could never be exactly as it was. And that's what made it so beautifully tragic. You are stuck with a slightly different story each night, with different takeaways."

"What a beautiful takeaway," Aziraphale said, watching her with a slight sort of awe.

She blushed, "I'm hardly unique in that way."

"Ngk," Crowley mumbled in disagreement, though he didn't actually say a word. Yet, she seemed to still understand what he was trying to say and blushed all the same.

As they walked, Crowley took off his sunglasses for a moment to wipe his eyes. He seemed to forget that his were unusual, yellow and with a snake like slit as a pupil.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"M'yeah," Crowley answered, opening his eyes to look at her. After the initial realization he was seeing her without glasses, thus revealing the snake like eyes, he went to shove the sunglasses back on. But she wasn't looking unkindly at him.

Instead, she smiled widely, "they're beautiful."

"Wot?" He said in shock.

"Your eyes are beautiful, Mr Crowley." Then, as Crowley sputtered in surprise, she stopped in front of an expensive flat. "This is me mistress's. Thank you, Mr Crowley and Mr Fell."

She looked both of them in the eyes as she said their names, and with equal kindness and appreciation. Then, she turned away and scampered around towards the servants entrance. Aziraphale waited until she was inside to blow out a breath.

"She was something," Crowley said.

"Yes, she was."

"I- angel, I could be wrong on this but didn't she feel-"

"Familiar?" Aziraphale finished for Crowley, looking down the alley as though she would magically reappear.

"Yes! It's so bloody weird," Crowley said, rubbing his hand along his jaw.

"Yes, weird," Aziraphale said, enunciating weird in an odd way that made Crowley furrow his brows. The two beings tried to shrug off this encounter, heading their separate ways for the time being.

1865—————

Aziraphale stared at Crowley as though he'd never seen him before, utterly gobsmacked. "I will not provide you that, that thing! It's suicide."

"Aw not for that Angel," Crowley groaned, waving his hand nonchalantly as though he hadn't asked for the one thing that would completely kill him. "Just for, err you know, protection."

"You are a demon, Crowley. The world would need protection from you."

Crowley tried to not let that sting. He'd never said as much to Aziraphale, but these last 200 years have really brought some perspective over what it is to be a demon. He found a weird sense of discomfort over the word demon. As though he were entirely bad because of what he was, and not what he does. But he'd never say it, or tell Aziraphale he accidentally rhymed.

"It's not like that, I just want to secure myself. That's all."

Aziraphale pursed his lips and looked away, not bearing the thought that his closest acquaintance would dare to think of something like that. It was simply not going to happen, Aziraphale refused to let that happen. Crowley was going to live forever, with Aziraphale, and he was going to do so happily. He'd never tell Crowley, of course, but Aziraphale didn't know if he could manage eternity without him.

"Oi! That can't have that!" Crowley said quickly, throwing himself off the bench and facing towards a woman standing by the river.

She turned to look at the, in her view, random man dressed in mourning garb barreling towards her and shouting in a thick accent. She clutched the loaf of bread close to her chest, eyeing him warily as he continued rambling.

"Bread's not good for 'em, it can - can - can cause diseases," he said once he got close to her.

She sucked in a breath. He was taller than he'd looked from afar, and she found herself staring at him. He was also quite handsome, with tanned skin and shocking bright red hair, curled away from his face. She noticed a pair of odd looking spectacles hiding his eyes, and a tattoo peaking out beneath his sideburns.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," she said breathlessly. She felt kind of stupid now, holding a loaf of bread as he stared at her with a passion for the ducks. A man dressed in all beige apparel came by quickly, standing by the other man's side. He looked kind, with bright blue eyes and plush pink lips she didn't even realize she'd taken note of.

"I'm terribly sorry for my friend's outburst," Aziraphale said to the woman, still looking shellshocked. "Though I'm afraid he is right, bread is not the best for them."

She looked down and stared at it. "Right, well I apologize. I hadn't been doing it long, if it's of any comfort."

Crowley grumbled but didn't say anything else, eyeing her with skepticism. After a pause where the three stood in silence, the woman tore the loaf into three sections. She then offered up a piece to each of the men, "better we eat it than them?"

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged a glance, they hadn't expected this. Maybe it was the mood of St James's Park or the pull of this young girl, but they reached out to accept their proffered piece.

Just then a golden shine passed over her eyes. Both men's jaws dropped as they'd never shared of this particular detail of their stories, and had never experienced it together. And, for the first time, she seemed conscious of it too.

A hand went up to her cheeks just below her eyes, which had grown wide in surprise. "What was that?"

"Pardon?" Aziraphale asked in that slightly tense voice he had when he was covering up for something.

"The, my, my eyes. I was looking and then it went all - gold like."

"Oh I don't know about that," Aziraphale said.

She shook her head vehemently, pointing at the both of them. "Yours did too, and yours!"

"You saw our eyes shine gold?" Crowley asked shyly.

"Y-yes. I saw through your spectacles. The whole eye, it went gold -"

"It must have been a trick of the light, dearest. Eyes don't 'go gold.'"

She shook her head again, "no. I know what I saw. I, I think I'd better go. Thank you for the, the, the ducks."

"Wait-" "Don't go-" Aziraphale and Crowley started at the same time, but she'd already lifted her skirts so she could walk away as quickly as possible.

"She saw it this time," Crowley said, mouth open in surprise.

"This time? This time? You've had a girls eyes shine gold before?" Aziraphale asked, trying to ignore the way his heart ramped up at the news. Crowley felt it too, it wasn't all him.

"And by the sound of it, you have too."

"Yes, I have. But only thrice before, 55BC, 13-"

"-77 and 1601."

Aziraphale's blue eyes widened and he stared at Crowley in shock, "I- I, how did you know?"

"Same for me, Angel. Same for me."

"So she's connected then, to the both of us." Aziraphale said slowly, trying to work it all out in his head. Crowley nodded, pursing his lips and making a 'tsk' noise under his breath.

"She's looked different each time. I don't think she's an Angel or a demon," Crowley said, ripping off a small piece of the bread she gave him and tossing it into the water. No, it wasn't good for them but who cares at this point. They were eternally connected to something.

"No, I think you're quite right. She's something else entirely. I'll have to do some research, I'll let you know if I have anything of note."

Crowley swallows, "same 'ere."

"Okay. Well then, good afternoon to you," Aziraphale tipped his hat and wandered off back to his book shop, his head completely filled with ideas of shapeshifters and witches, all sorts of creatures.

Current Day—————

Crowley parked the Bentley outside Aziraphale's shop, the wheel a slight tap before getting out. It was cold today, and he saw dozens of people shuffling into Nina's shop for some warmth. He himself was freezing but he knew even slightly suggesting to Aziraphale would earn him some pampering, blanket tucked in, hot chocolate, and near undivided angelic attention. Normally he didn't like asking for it, but it's been a weird few years with the Armageddon't, and he could use some pampering.

He felt a pang in his chest, a strange sort of pull he didn't know what to do with. What did humans do when their hearts hurt? Then it struck him - he wasn't human. Why would his heart be hurting?

"Oi, you doing okay?" A voice said from the pavement outside Aziraphale's shop. Crowley looked up, surprised to see Nina with a bag full of ingredients.

"What're you doing out

She held up the bag with a raised brow, as though he was stupid to just suggest it, "you're alright then?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. But you haven't got other staff and the place's full."

"Oh, yeah, forgot you didn't know about that." Nina said dryly. "I hired a new barista. Name's Y/N. New to town."

There it was, that pull dragging him towards her shop. He couldn't explain, tried to rack his brain as to what would want him in there. He glanced back through the windows, trying to see if anything was amiss.

Each instance with her seemed to last for a second, barely enough to know if it was the truth or a trick of the light. But Crowley had lived long enough on enough stupid planets to know that when he saw something that wasn't typically there, it wasn't a figment of his imagination. He swallowed, trying to betray anything to Nina.

"Right. Well then, better get back to it," he said, moving past her shoving his way into Aziraphale's bookshop.

"Oh Crowley, wonderful you're here-"

"Yes, yes, I'm wonderful, you're wonderful, the world's bloody wonderful. Angel, do you remember in 1865 when we saw her in St James's Park?"

There wasn't a need to clarify who the 'her' was. Aziraphale straightened, removing his spectacles from his nose. "Yes, I do."

"And you remember when you said you'd research it and report back, but never did?"

"Yes, I do. Crowley-"

"I need that research now, Angel." Crowley said quickly, not letting Aziraphale ask more pointless questions.

"Nothing came of it, dear, that's why I'd never told you. We would have sensed if she was a witch, angel, demon, or anything other supernatural. We have those senses."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Crowley, what happened? What did you see?"

"She's here."

Aziraphale's eyebrows shot up and he placed a surprise hand on his chest, not quite knowing what to do with that information. "Here?!"

"In London. In the coffee shop, in Nina's coffee shop. I - I saw her. There was a golden thread between us. I know it's her, Angel. She looks different but she has every time. It's her."

"You saw a golden thread?"

"Yes."

Aziraphale put his spectacles back on, heading for one of his bookshelves towards the back of the shop, "are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes, Angel, I'm bloody positive."

"A Golden thread has never shown up before. The previous times were all the, err, the eyes. This means something." Aziraphale said, gathering the dusty book from his shelf and depositing it on his desk with a thud. "In Greek mythology the golden thread was your life line. Your life thread so to speak. Fate, destiny, the whole nine yards."

"Yes, Angel, but the Greeks were wrong and that's how we exist so what does it mean for us?" Crowley grabbed a chair and fell into it, placing a frustrated hand on his temple.

Aziraphale thumbed through pages until he found what he was looking for. He read the words, but it only helped to scrunch his brow. "This doesn't make any sense. The threads only have two colors, two avenues."

"What do the threads mean, Angel?" His tone pained in frustration. This girl was scaring him, and he couldn't explain why. As far as he knew she presented no threat to him. And yet all the same, he feared her. He wasn't a fan of the unknown. Everything had been so planned out for so long, even though he didn't like the idea of the world ending it was a plan nonetheless.

"It says here that white thread is for eternal blessings. Saints and what not. Black thread for eternal damnation. But it only exists on a human while they are alive."

"Wot? I don't see black threads on people, d'you see white threads?"

Aziraphale adjusted his spectacles, "it says here they only appear if an Angel, or in your case, dearest, a demon, specifically bless them. Or, err, curse them."

"Still, you'd think 6,000 years and I woulda seen something."

Aziraphale nodded in agreement, "I've not seen any either."

"Wait, how'd you know about all this then?" Crowley waved a hand vaguely in between Aziraphale and the book.

Aziraphale looked confused for a moment, "all this? Oh, ah, you mean how I've come to know about the threads? Well it is to my understanding that this was brought up by Michael -"

"Head honcho Michael?" Crowley asked.

"Yes, though I wouldn't use such human terms myself. Michael had thought it up around 100BC. Thought it would be a fun way of identifying humans. But the upstairs didn't fancy the idea, She dispelled it not too long after."

"Hmm... never woulda pictured that out of Michael."

"Well, they say you never really know someone." Aziraphale replied, looking back over the pages as Crowley began to ramble.

"Always thought that applied to killers. No one ever says that 'bout the good deeds, they only say it after you've hurt someone. If someone's killed a kid, everyone's all up in arms like 'you never really knew 'em.' But if someone's a paramedic no one's like 'you never really know-'"

Aziraphale felt his jaw drop open as the words at the bottom of the page finally clicked. Part of the reason Michael's plan never worked, at least according to Gabriel, was that the wording was too specific. "No one uses 'eternally' in their everyday vocabulary," he had argued. Back then Aziraphale had quite agreed with Gabriel, but everyone agreed with Gabriel if it meant shutting Michael up. But he remembered a time not long before the thread idea was vanished when he had used the word 'eternally' in conversation. He reread to be sure, then piped up over Crowley's random complaining, "C-Crowley... do you remember what you said to her in 55BC?"

Crowley's face scrunched as he tried to think all the way back. "I, uh, tripped her. On accident, then she called me an asshole and I-I damned her for eternity I think."

"Oh dear."

"What does this 'oh dear' me? Angel?" When Aziraphale didn't say anything Crowley got up, stalking over to him quickly. "What did you see?"

"I blessed her for eternity."

"So? What's that mean?"

"I-I think, and I could be very very wrong, however I think that means we've, err, we've trapped her soul in an endless strain between Heaven and Hell."

"No, no, no, no," Crowley started to say, unconsciously pacing as he tried to unravel it all in his head. "That doesn't make any sense. Her thread is gold, white and black don't make gold. It makes grey, she should be grey!"

"I think the color of her thread is far from our biggest issue, Crowley."

"So, so what? She's trapped to us?"

Aziraphale ran a hand down his face, trying to process. "I- she might be."

"But her body's changed each time. It's not the same woman."

"Ah, but her eyes. They've stayed the same. You know as well as I do they're the same."

Crowley stopped, knowing he didn't have grounds to argue. Aziraphale was right, after all. Then he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Fucking hell-"

"Language," Aziraphale said with pursed lips.

"Wot? For the fucking or the hell part?" Crowley snapped, then upon seeing Aziraphale's dropped expression he immediately retracted. "I'm sorry. That was rude. You're not getting the stupid dance though. Angel, she's not immortal. Her soul is. She must just keep being, being reborn. But the soul from 55BC is still the same."

"That would make sense," Aziraphale said. "They do say the eyes are the window into the soul. Perhaps that explains why they remain while the rest of her can change."

"Yeah, yeah. It makes sense, don't it?"

"So we've accidentally trapped a human soul to Earth to live and die for eternity?"

"Yeah, yeah," Crowley sniffed. "Think we did, Angel."

There was a quiet pause as the two reflected on what they just realized. They, unwittingly, had created an immortal creature. She doesn't even know she's immortal, and by the past experience it sounds as if her mind is wiped with each death. But her soul lives on.

"Fuck," Aziraphale said quietly.

Crowley looked up sharply, "wot'd you say?"

"I said fuck." He repeated, with more confidence this time around.

On any normal circumstance, Crowley would laugh and cherish the moment he saw Aziraphale curse - and with fuck of all of them - but he couldn't help but think Aziraphale was right. Fuck, indeed.

"What do we do?" Crowley asked.

"We have to tell her."

"We do? Why's that? What d'ya think we're gonna say? Hi random stranger I'm a demon he's an Angel and your soul is stuck, here have a cuppa."

"Well that would be straightforward -"

"Sarcasm, Angel. You've been here for thousands of years and you still don't process sarcasm."

Aziraphale stood up and went over to Crowley, touching his shoulders so he'd look up to him. "I understand that this is difficult. This is, it's entirely unprecedented territory. But she deserves the truth." He leaned in, his voice but a whisper. "It does help that we both feel a pull to her. Once we see her, it hurts to no interact. Perhaps we can find a way to end this, to help her."

Crowley swallowed, looking away from Aziraphale's bright blue eyes. He smelled of vanilla and old books, a scent Crowley would bottle up and spray all over his stupid, cold flat if he could. Maybe this girl could help, maybe she was good. But they first needed to meet her.

"Alright. Fine. Let's go, now," Crowley said, sliding his sunglasses back on. Aziraphale nodded and retrieved his coat.

The pair walked out of the bookshop, locking up, and swiftly walked cross the street. They hesitated outside the door, neither knowing what to do. A flash of a blue apron in the window caught their attention, and then a golden thread, shining in the light, emerged and wrapped round the owners waist.

"You seeing that, Angel?"

"Y-yes, I am. It's not faded."

It didn't. It sparkled and swayed in the air, moving with the owners body as she walked around in the shop.

"On three," Aziraphale said. Crowley grumbled in agreement. "One, two ... three."

They opened the doors and were almost immediately greeted by a sweet smile and kind eyes. The same eyes they'd seen for hundreds of years. She smiled, tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

"Hi guys, welcome in! Feel free to take a seat wherever you like, I'll be with you in a moment."

"O-okay," Aziraphale said, his voice wispy in the confusion and whirlwind that was her. But she was entirely unaware, blissfully living in her own world that she didn't know was about to be ruined.

They sat in a far corner, away from any windows. Crowley sprawled in the seat, looking anywhere but at Aziraphale. Aziraphale sat stiff as a bored, left leg bouncing so furiously the table itself started to shake.

"Right, what can I get you lads?" She seemed to appear out of nowhere, shining golden thread wrapped round her sweet waist right where the apron was tied.

Aziraphale spoke first, not looking her in the eye but instead staring out the window. An uncharacteristically rude action on his part. "Oh, um, just a latte please. With 3 shots of vanilla."

"Ooo, yum. And for you, the one with the glasses?" She asked, her voice light.

Crowley thought for a moment. Better bite the bullet, eh? He turned, took his sunglasses off, and looked her in the eyes. "Espresso, darling."

Her eyes had a golden flash and she seemed to jump, her pad falling to the table in her shock. She looked between Aziraphale and Crowley with wide eyes, hands going to her stomach as she took deep breaths. "Aziraphale. Your name is Aziraphale," she said to him. Eyes wide. She turned to the demon. "You're Crowley."

"Yes, dear, we are."

"Why do I know that?" Her voice was shaky and yet she stayed, not angry or scared that she knew unknowable information.

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. Crowley sighed, flicking his hand. Time around them stopped. Customers held their mugs up in the air, Nina mid pouring a cup, and a man getting ready to ask for the most ridiculous drink he could think of. All were trapped in this moment except for her, Aziraphale and Crowley.

She jumped, looking around with wide eyes, "h-how'd you do that? Why did you do that?"

"Please, take a seat dear," Aziraphale said, snapping as a plush chair appeared behind her. She tripped into it, her body language stuff and frightened.

"This is all feeling like a very strange dream, and I don't like it," she said, taking deep breaths to try and clear her mind. "Did you just stop time and if so, how the hell did you? And you just miraculously created a chair? And why do I know who the hell you are?"

"Dearest, it's not a dream, I'm afraid. You have met us before. You've met us multiple times before," Aziraphale took a breath. "I-I'm afraid we have some complicated news."

"Tell me who the hell you are!" She was getting scared, her heart fighting against her rib cage. She wanted to get up, she wanted to run away, put her hands over her ears and scream 'la la la' over and over until they left her alone. But she didn't. It wasn't a physical thing, even though these familiar strangers had put her in a terrifying position she knew they'd let her go. It was her soul that kept her trapped. "Who are you? I need to know. Who are you really?"

Aziraphale placed a warm hand on her own. His was large, soft and yet strong. She liked the feeling of his hands as he held one of hers, looking into her eyes. "My name is Aziraphale. I am an Angel of God. I was the Guardian of the East Gate at the Garden of Eden, but now I am on Earth. I perform miracles and I run a bookshop, with my dearest friend."

His eyes glanced over to the other man. He was handsome, tanned skin with fiery red hair slicked up and back over his head. Aziraphale might have called him a friend, but she wasn't stupid enough to believe that. It was more than that, maybe they didn't know it but she definitely did.

Another hand grasped hers, this one lean and long. He grasped her hand with a soft intensity she didn't know possible. "My name's Crowley. I'm a demon, you'd know me cause I was a, uh, let's call me a reptile."

She blinked rapidly, "you were the snake that tempted Eve?"

"Wow, she's a quick one," Crowley smiled widely.

"Wasn't he cursed to only use his belly?"

Crowley rolled his eyes, "it's complicated."

"You, both, are not human. You're an Angel and you're a demon. So Christianity is right."

"Yes, love. But God is actually a She, that bit got muddled," Aziraphale smiled. "Are you feeling better?"

"That doesn't explain, why- why do I know you? I recognize both of you, but I don't know why. Then you made that comment about having met me multiple times, for years, what does that mean?" She was getting a little riled but she tried to stay calm. This wasn't going to make any more sense by screaming at a literal demon. And Angel, but the demon was more infuriating at the moment. He stared at her with a mix of awe and shock, and she didn't want to think about any of it.

Aziraphale sighed, "before the current era, you know Roman times and what not, the Archangel Michael played with the idea of threads. It was similar in concept to the Greek idea of fate -"

"You happened to be alive when this was a thing. It means when a demon curses you and says the word 'eternally' a black thread'll appear to let everyone know you're damned forever. White thread with angels."

"I'm damned forever? Wait, you said Roman times - I was alive during the ancient roman era?"

"Well, darling, he blessed you and I cursed you at the same day. Meaning your soul is trapped with both Heaven and Hell," Crowley said softly. "We think your soul has been reincarnated since about 55BC. And it's because of us. This Golden shit you see is our connection."

"But white and black make grey?"

Crowley clapped and said "aha! She gets it!"

"Crowley," Aziraphale said, though his eyes were light with amusement. "We can't explain the color of the thread. But we believe it means you're connected to us. Both of us, we get this pull to you when you're around. As though we have to see you."

There was a moment of silence as they let her collect her thoughts. Unconsciously, she'd curled up into a ball on the comfy chair Aziraphale had miracled. She thought and thought, rolling over the idea that she's trapped here on earth. An accidental immortal being tied to these two.

She glanced at Aziraphale. She knew him, she has known him. She bit her lip, wishing to understand everything as it was.

"M-May I?" She asked, tentatively lifting a hand near his face. She needed to touch him, to feel him, to try and remember.

The Angel nodded. He was soft, his hair light and white, in short curls on top of his head. She liked the curls, they looked rather fetching on him. Her fingertips brushed lightly down his face, feeling his kind face. She liked his lips, they were pink and couldn't fight a smile. Then she glanced down and saw his hand in his lap. Running an hand down his shoulder to his hand, she lifted it and eyed the golden ring.

"Aziraphale..." she murmured. It all started to fall into place. The dancing, the food, the wine. He'd looked so out of place in pale clothing, so obviously finer than anyone else's. He'd tried to blend in with an outdated style, to balance the richness, but she could spot him through the crowd with ease. His cheeks had gotten pink, and he'd gone for a drink. She hadn't meant to spill on him, she just wanted a chat. "I gave you this ring. You didn't want it at first, but I gave it to you. It says Aziraphale on it."

He took a shaky breath, his eyes becoming glassy with tears. His lips trembled as he said, "you did."

Aziraphale slid the ring off his finger, turning it so she could see the inside. There enough his name was scrawled in haphazard writing. It had faded from the years, some of the details lost to time. But she remembered this ring when it was new. When William had gotten it in his shop and didn't know what to make of it. And she'd taken it, knew it would be special.

She pressed a soft kiss to the ring, then slid it back on Aziraphale's finger. She looked him in the eyes as she kissed the back of his hand, "I remember you."

The tears had actually fallen now, hitting his cheeks softly. He didn't try to hide it, and she wouldn't want him to. Perhaps it was this whole eternal blessing thing, but she was drawn to him.

Then she turned to the demon. Crowley. He sat high and mighty in his chair, looking away as though he were intruding on Aziraphale's private moment. He was handsome in a different way than Aziraphale. Where Aziraphale was soft and strong, Crowley was sharp and sweet. She smiled when she looked at him, knowing he was sweet without saying it.

She went to him to, lifting her hand then asking softly, "may I touch you?"

He swallowed, and nodded. She first touched his hair, it was softer then it looked. Her fingertips brushed it so it feel on his forehead, liking the contrast of his skin against the red. Then she traced along his tattoo, the way his cheekbone felt under her touch.

With gentle hands, she cupped his cheeks and turned his face so he had to look her in the eyes. She smiled. "I'd wondered if they were still yellow."

He closed his eyes, cringing. He'd always hated his eyes. "Sorry they're-"

"Beautiful." He opened his eyes quickly. "I remember your eyes. They've been in my dreams and I never knew why. The man with the yellow snake eyes. They are so, so beautiful. Like a sunflower."

"You're comparing s'demon eyes to a sunflower?"

She smiled and nodded, "you have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

Crowley sucked in a breath, closing his eyes. It as though the attention itself would make him implode.

"Keep them closed," she said. Then he felt a pair of soft lips kiss one eyelid, then the other. "Absolutely beautiful. Don't you think so, Aziraphale?"

Crowley was shocked to hear Aziraphale agree. "I adore your eyes, dear. They've been my favorite for a long time."

The three didn't know what to do with themselves, time frozen around them. But however strange the situation, she wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. She wanted to get to know this Angel and demon, understand their pasts and more about their connection.

“Thank you, my dear, for your patience,” Aziraphale said kindly.

“I suppose I should be thanking you, you’ve waited hundreds of years.” She said with a dry laugh that made Crowley smile.

There weren’t any words that seemed to describe the moment the three of them shared, in a moment frozen in time knowing they had all the time in the world. But for now it was enough, and that was all it needed to be.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #fluff #soulmate au #good omens fanfiction #good omens x reader #kind of on accident #didn’t think I cared about it until now and I still don’t but I’m proud of this fic #god it’s long please read #historical shit #Aziraphale x Crowley x reader #Aziraphale x Crowley #12k words #my sanity is gone #don’t even care that much about a reader insert with them but I’m here #so enjoy

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ateezscupid · 7 months

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Hiiii I love your fics ! I wanted to know if you could do a fic with dom- minjoong and sub f. reader ?

𝗧𝗪𝗢'𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡 𝗢𝗡𝗘 ★

𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 / 𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧

plot - you planned a calm night with mingi and hongjoong recording in the studio, but it ended way differently than you thought it would.

warn - smut and fluff, dom!mingi, dom!hongjoong, sub!reader, fingering, oral (m and f), praise and some degrading if u squint LOL, pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl, love), poly!au, big dick mingi, reader's shorter than joong and min, kind of size difference mentioned BUT there is a size kink if u squint, unprotected sex, joong and mingi are pussy drunk and absolutely love the reader

w/c -

𝗧𝗔𝗚S - @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @yeolistic @jeonride @ate-ez

A/N - this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS and i finished it. also, back from my break babes! ^^

Mingi and Hongjoong were like two peas in a pod. they did — quite literally — everything together. They went to concerts together, designed merchandise together, produced and wrote lyrics together; even going to the bathroom together seemed like something the two boys did a lot. you’ve always loved their friendship. It was so cute how Mingi would treat Hongjoong like a younger brother even though Joong was older, and he kind of just accepted it knowing he couldn’t get Mingi to stop.

When you introduced yourself to the two, you didn’t realize how easy it was for them to become attached to you. They acted like they had known you for years, and for you it felt like you had found your soulmates because of their welcoming aura. Out of all of your friends, Hongjoong and Mingi were your favorites.

Hongjoong was the friend who spent too much time at work trying to make sure whatever he was working on was perfect — and who also had a bit of a smoking problem. Hongjoong was high most of the time whenever you saw him.

Mingi was the friend who was — just like hongjoong — always high, except he didn’t spend a lot of time in the studio. He was always out at clubs or doing something stupid with the other members.

To say the least, the boys were like fully grown adult babies.

Since your schedule was always empty, you spent a lot of time with the Ateez members; specifically with Joong and Mingi. You were always hanging out at their music video sets, in their dressing rooms, or just in general in the KQ building doing god knows what. It was fun hanging out with the boys. They acted so normal around you and you loved it.

Now you were hanging out with Mingi and Hongjoong in the studio. They were song writing and producing a few songs while you sat on the couch scrolling through your phone. There was definitely silence in the studio, ignoring the music playing, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. You three were fine being in complete silence as long as it meant being in each others presence.

“Yo Hj, go over that one line again,” Mingi peeked above his computer. “Y/n, are you bored? Sorry if we’re not talking to you, we’re just really focused.”

“What?” you scoff playfully and sit up. “Don’t worry about me, I don’t really care about you guys talking to me or not, Im fine either way.”

“Cool, just makin’ sure.” Min smiled then looked back at his computer. You always found him adorable whenever he wore glasses. They fit him so well, and he didn’t seem to agree until you started complimented him. It wasn’t long after that he started wearing his glasses more often.

With or without the glasses, Mingi had a pretty face. It was the same for Hongjoong. You’ve always found the two men incredibly attractive; your eyes examining their features whenever they weren’t looking. You of course never acted upon your emotions, but there have been moments between you three that would confirm your feelings for them.

Like the time you were hanging out with the boys while they were filming Inception. As of now, you’re confused why you didn’t choose Seonghwa first. Everything about him in that music video had you drooling. As if his body being drenched in water wasn’t enough, his facial expressions and body made you horny desperate for him.

Hongjoong and Mingi both noticed how your body was reacting to Seonghwa’s movements during the dance and felt jealous. They didn’t remember you looking at them like that. You remember the boys bombarding you with questions after they made it back to their dorms.

“Do you like Seonghwa?” and “Do you have a crush on anybody?”

“Why were you looking at Seonghwa like that?”

“Do you have a crush on anybody?”

All these questions were new to you since they hadn’t bothered you like this before. You could only assume it was because of the way you looked at Seonghwa that made them jealous. But why were they jealous? They didn’t like you, at least, that’s what you thought. They never showed any signs that told you they were interested in you… Unless they did and you were too dumb to realize.

Just thinking about it now made you wonder if they actually liked you, and if they had like you this entire time, why didn’t they say anything? You thought they’d be fighting over you if they both liked you but they weren’t.

Clearly they didn’t have a problem with sharing.

You stare at your phone for a few minutes contemplating on whether or not you should ask them. Or better yet, just blurt out that you like them and see where that takes you. You glance over at Hongjoong, and to your surprise, he was already looking at you. He immediately looked away and stared at the sheet of lyrics in front of him, Mingi noticing the flushed look on his face and looking at you. They knew you knew.

“Can I ask you guys something?” you finally muster up the courage to say something. It looked as if the blood drained from their face when you said that.

“Uh, sure,” Mingi closes his laptop halfway and Hongjoong nods, taking his headphones off completely.

“Do you guys have a crush on anybody? We’ve been friends for long and we’ve talked about almost any and everything but crushes. How come you guys never told me about any crushes you guys have? Or had.”

Hongjoong looks at Mingi, mouth ajar as if he were going to speak but stayed quiet. Mingi was also quiet, fidgeting with his mouse and looking around the room. Clearly they were nervous to answer the question, and you didn’t mean to make them nervous.

“Sorry if I’m asking for too much, I just wanna know! I mean, you guys have told me your celebrity crushes but that’s not the same.”

“I mean,” Hongjoong leaned back in his chair, slightly lifting his hips. You noticed this and bit your lip, struggling to keep eye contact with him.

“We never told you because it’s complicated.”

“How is it complicated? If you don’t mind me asking,” You cris-cross your legs on the couch. “I mean, I’m pretty easy to talk to. You guys know this.”

“We know!” Mingi sighed. “If we told you, you’d freak out. And you’d probably think we were weird,”

“I won’t think you’re weird! Come on, it’s just us,” you walk over to the chair next to Mingi and sit down in it, placing a hand on his arm and tilting your head. Your small touch alone made Mingi shiver.

“Well, we…” he glances over at Hongjoong who nodded his head in approval. “we like you.”

That wasn’t what you were expecting at all. Well, you kinda did expect it but it was surprising. They said it so easily as if they weren’t scared to tell you earlier. Averting your gaze to Hongjoong, he nodded slowly as if saying what Mingi said was true. You knew the boys wouldn’t lie to you. You all made an agreement that you’d tell each other anything no matter what it was.

“Sorry if it’s so sudden,” Hongjoong sighs deeply. “I know I said I wasn’t really looking to date anyone and Mingi knew that too, but you kinda just…came into our life and changed it ever since.”

“Do you both like me? I already know the answer but I like it hearing it from you guys.” you smile and kick your feet.

“Oh my god,” Mingi chuckles. His deep voice was always so attractive. “First Joong liked you and I may or may not have teased him a bit for his stupid crush on you. But then I started understanding why he liked you and then I started liking you. We kinda had to come to an agreement since we didn’t know what to do if both of us liked you.”

“I’m not gonna say we argued, but we argued.” Hongjoong chuckles behind his desk. “We both sorta agreed to being okay with the other liking you, but we don’t know if you’re okay with…dating two people.”

“Joong, are you kidding? If it’s you two I don’t care. I’m actually kind of relieved that you guys don’t mind dating me. I thought I’d have to choose between you guys and I didn’t want to do that.”

“Well now you don’t have to since you know we both like you,” Mingi leaned back in his chair — manspreading. You thought you had better self control but you definitely didn’t. Just seeing him sit like that made you rub your legs together. You weren’t aware of the fact that the boys saw you doing this, nor were you aware of the looks they gave each other.

“So…I assume this means we’re — dating? All of us?”

“Would you like that Y/n?” Hongjoong averted his gaze, his eyes glazing over your body. He could never get over how good you looked in his and Mingi’s clothes. Being surprisingly shorter than Mingi and Hongjoong, their clothes were always baggy on your body, which made them so comfortable. He liked watching you rummage through their closets trying to find an outfit for the day since you had given up on wearing your own clothes.

“I would love that!” You say with a gummy smile, a bit too excited for your own good.

“I’m kinda surprised you didn’t say anything about us before. I mean, you said you knew we liked you,” Mingi said.

“Well I didn’t wanna say anything before because I wasn’t really sure. I only went by the things you guys were doing and you guys were doing a lot.”

“Like what?” Hongjoong tilts his head.

You didn’t think he’d ask. “Y’know, getting jealous whenever I looked or even talked to the other members, over complimenting me even when I looked bad, always staring at my body — Mingi, you liked looking at my tits. I always caught you look at them,”

“You looked at her tits?” Joong raised his eyebrow at Mingi.

“I-I did like once,” Mingi scratches the back of his head. “You’ve looked at her ass before so you can’t sit here and act like you didn’t do anything wrong!”

“You’ve looked at my ass before?” the question made them both flustered. You weren’t necessarily surprised by the behavior; more so happy they even admitted to doing it. At least they felt comfortable enough to tell you things like that.

“Well are there any more embarrassing things you guys wanna spill about each other or are you guys done?”

Hongjoong started giggling, covering his mouth with his hand and looking at Mingi. You could tell it was something stupid based off the way he sounded.

“Mingi didn’t know how to—”

“Shut up dickhead!” Mingi shouted defensively not even allowing Hongjoong to finish. Him interrupting only made Joong laugh louder. His laughing caused you to start laughing.

“Joong say it! What is it!” You lean closer, arms resting on the desk. Mingi tried covering your ears but you kept moving.

“He was scared to tell you he liked you because he thought you guys would kiss and he didn’t know how to kiss so he asked me to help him!” Hongjoong almost fell back in his chair laughing, his headphones falling off his neck and his legs kicking underneath the desk. Mingi was definitely embarrassed, though he seemed to be embarrassed because he couldn’t kiss, not because he kissed Hongjoong.

“You guys kissed? Like — on the lips? Or…” —

“On the lips, Y/n, I didn’t say he could go that far. But he did it to impress youuu! I already know how to kiss so I was fine teaching him what I knew.”

You nod and turn to Mingi. “So he taught you? You know how to kiss now?”

“I-I guess,” he cleared his throat nervously. “You want me to show you?”

“Are you guys really gonna makeout in front of me? If you’re gonna do it, let me watch.” he stands up from his seat and moves toward the couch you were just sitting on, taking a seat himself and positioning himself so he saw you two making out — if you were even going to do so.

Mingi’s eyes glazed over your features, seeming to be glued to your lips since he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. Leaning in slowly, his hand lifting and resting on your cheek while pulling your face closed, his and your eyes closing. Hongjoong sat watching in anticipation with his foot tapping on the ground, a wide smile on his face. He kept whispering the words ‘kiss her’ and ‘hurry up’ since you two were taking a bit long.

With his hand holding your cheek and your faces inching closer and closer, your lips finally attached. He captured your lips tenderly, your expression softening as you relaxed in his hood, leaning gently into the kiss to create more friction of some sort. He was enjoying it himself as well — having his arm wrapped around you pulling you deeper into the kiss and making sure you couldn’t back away. Not like you planning on it. It was crazy — a bit unbelievable how he didn’t protest when you asked him to kiss you, but you were happy he was doing it.

As the two of you kissed you felt someone behind you. The only other person in the room was Hongjoong, so you could only assume it was him. He watched closely as you two kissed, growing a bit impatient himself since he didn’t get the chance to kiss you yet.

“Mingi, hurry upp. I wanna kiss her too,” he whined behind you. Once Mingi’s lips separated from yours, Joong’s fingers curled around your neck and leaned down, attaching his own lips to yours and holding you still. Whatever you had gotten yourself into, you couldn’t possibly take yourself out. It wasn’t like you wanted to but you knew you were going to have a fun night.

In full honesty, it was a lot to take in. The both of them were kissing you, their hands all around your body overwhelming your senses. It’s not like you haven’t imagined the two in bed before but for it to happen now was so unexpected.

“She’s so pretty,” Mingi mumbles under his breath, hands gently caressing your thighs. “so gorgeous.”

Hongjoong pulls away from your lips, running a thumb across your cheek. “You think we should do it tonight? Of course, if she’s okay with it.

“Okay with what? W-What do you guys mean?”

“…” Joong looked at Mingi then back to you. “Y’know, a threesome.. If it’s too unexpected we don’t have to do it—”

“Y-Yes! Yeah, whatever you wanna do to me, do it. Please.”

They didn’t have to be told twice. As Mingi pulled you into his lap, Hongjoong stood behind you and held your hair out of your face, fingers still wrapped around your neck as Mingi pulled you into yet another kiss. Your tongues fought for dominance but Min won, making you feel like your body was going numb. They played with you as if you were putty. You began to grind your hips onto Mingi while holding onto his shoulders, moaning into his mouth because of the friction. It wasn’t a lot but it was enough to get you wet. Just as you were doing so, you felt something big rubbing against your crotch.

You knew what it was.

“Aw she’s moving on harder on you,” Joong teased, his hands moving all across your body and even groping your breasts. “You got hard that quick?”

Mingi broke away from the kiss. “Well what would you do if a girl you liked was grinding on your dick? Would you not get hard?”

“I would but still, damn.” Mingi lets go of you and allows Hongjoong to pull you away from him. He brings you over to the couch and finally settles you into his lap, hands caressing your thighs like Mingi’s did earlier, giving your clothes heat access to his own bulge. You lazily drag yourself against his length. This alone had you soaked in your panties and you were about ready to rip them off of your heated body.

“My pretty girl grinding on me like this,” Hongjoong almost growls in your ear, hugging your waist and groaning softly in your ear. “you’re such a dirty girl,”

“Mm,” you whimper. “I… know,”

Not realizing Mingi had come over, his hands reach underneath your hips and grab the hem of the bottoms you were wearing, pulling them off and discarding them onto the floor next to him. Joong tilted your head at an almost uncomfortable angle to attach his mouth onto yours and you eagerly return the kiss, tongues clashing together.

Mingi watched you grind on each other, though he’s not sure he can handle watching you two do it any longer. He pulls your hips forward and pushes your underwear to the side, hands squishing your thighs and lips enveloping your clit. You jolt and moan into your kiss with Joong while holding onto his leg, gripping for your life at this point.

“So wet,” Mingi hums. “for me?” his fingers come to play with your folds. Your body was surging with such an electric feeling you felt lightheaded. With simple touches, you were already crumbling. It wasn’t like this with your past partners in bed.

His hand slides underneath your ass and attaches his mouth to your heat. Your core was twitching so much, already overstimulated by barely anything. Hongjoong took this as his opportunity to grope your breasts, now comforting you as Mingi ate you out. His tongue moves in and out of you, spending a few seconds looking for that one spongey spot inside of you. Your thighs close around his head, and your back arched off of Joong’s chest.

You couldn’t focus on his hands on your body while Mingi ate you out like this. It was impossible.

Once his fingers enter you everything goes blank, your legs closing immediately and you having to break away from Hongjoong’s kiss to catch your breath. You came so quick and easy it was almost embarrassing.

“She’s so cute!” Hongjoong cooed as he rubbed your waist. “Came so quick from barely anything.”

“Please…” you moan softly, arching your back and trying to grind your hips on Hongjoong again. “I-I… want—”

“We’ll give it to you, baby.” Mingi spoke as he stood to his feet. Joong lifted you from the underside of your legs and placed you on your back on the sofa, Mingi now replacing him and getting between your legs. He stripped himself of his sweatpants and pushed his boxers low enough to where his cock could spring out.

It would be an understatement to say he was just big.

“M-Min…, that’s not gonna fit,”

“Then I’ll make it fit.”

As you were ready to protest, a sharp pain seethed through your body. You hadn’t realized Hongjoong slid behind you and help you lay on top of his chest, your lower body feeling numb once Mingi went inside. You were too focused on the literal intrusion that your body was going through to realize Joong’s hand moving to your clit. He delivered a sharp slap to it, making you lurch forward and cry out loud.

“Aw, poor baby can’t handle it,” Joong murmurs as Mingi began thrusting.

Your walls were contracting against his cock with every movement, hips angled so he could hit your deepest parts. He was so big, stretching your walls and making it feel like you were being ripped apart. Mingi tried going slow so you could adjust to his enormous size, but good god, he was huge. Adjusting to his size was going to take a very long time. He kept glancing at you to check your facial expressions, stopping the movement of his hips if he felt like he was hurting you.

“It’s okay, princess,” Mingi said calmly while doing slow strokes. “I know it’s a lot, just breathe.” his deep voice helped you calm down much faster. He grabs ahold of your hips and speeds up the pace of his thrusts. There was slick already sliding down your thighs.

Immediately your hands flung to his body, hips grinding against him to feel some sort of friction. Your nails dug into his skin while you tried holding on for dear life. It was so much to handle at once.

Reaching your hand back, you were desperately searching for Hongjoong’s dick, anything to hold on your hands. You felt bad since you hadn’t done anything besides kiss him yet, so this was the last you could do. Of course, he attempted to stop you saying he didn’t need you to do anything, but you weren’t listening. You were being driven by sex.

“Y/n, you don’t have to—” your hand grasps onto his clothed dick. He did want you to touch him, so he allowed you to do whatever to him. Of course, the angle at which you were laying made it difficult for you to stroke him, but you tried your best, running your thumb over his slit and spreading his pre-cum all over.

“Joong why don’t you…fuck,” Mingi cursed, head spinning from how nice you felt around his cock. “f-fuck her face. Give her something to do with her filthy little mouth,”

“I-I don’t think she can even hear us—”

“Little whore already fucked out?” Min pants and deepens his thrusts.

Hongjoong slid from underneath your now limp body and grabbed a fistful of your hair, lifting it and wiping the drool off your cheek with his thumb. Mingi held your hips with his nails digging into your body, leaving crescent moon shapes embedded in your skin, while Hongjoong was preparing to face fuck you.

He pulls his pants down to his thighs, pulling your head closer to his hips by your hair and slapping his cock on your cheek. You couldn’t handle the scene unfolding in front of you.

“Open,” Hongjoong spoke, slapping his tip against your lips. You obeyed and lazily opened your mouth. It opened more as he pushed himself inside of you.

“So warm,” he groans. “so wet, all for us.”

Joong was much bigger than you imagined, and you weren’t ashamed to say you had thought about Hongjoong naked before. It was safe to say you’ve thought about all of the members naked. The only ones you’ve thought of the most were Mingi and Hongjoong, mainly Mingi. Even seeing only his collarbone sometimes would cause you to drool. Hongjoong had you drooling whenever you saw any part of his body.

His hips moved back and forth, pushing his cock in and out of your mouth, making sure to hit the back of your throat with each thrust while also making sure you were still breathing. Though you didn’t mind if he made it hard for you to breathe. Being used like a cum dump by these two has been a dream of yours for a while.

“Fuck, baby, your mouth feels good…” Hongjoong groaned as his pace accelerated. You gagged each time his tip hit the back of your throat, but you didn’t care.

A sharp thrust from Mingi’s hips caused your body to jerk and for a string of fire to shoot down to your core. Your moans were muffled due to Joong being in your mouth, but it only fueled Min to go faster inside of you, thinking about how you’d sound if your mouth wasn’t full right now. Joong placed his hand on the back of your head and began thrusting his hips faster, droll trickling down your bottom lip and down your chin from the stimulation.

Your thighs wouldn’t stop twitching. However, how could they stop? Mingi was plowing the last amount of life out of your hole, and Hongjoong used your mouth as if you were a glory hole for him and only him for his own personal use.

How could you possibly stay still during all this?

“I think—fuck, I think she’s close.” Mingi groans and plants his hands on the couch cushions, freeing your hips from his hold and allowing his own to angle differently so he can strike into you deeper.

Your head was spinning at this point. You had no control over the noises you made or your body anymore. Everything about you belonged to them now. Knowing you were close to your release, Hongjoong pulled his member out of your mouth and slapped it on your cheek gently, allowing you to rest your head on his lap while Mingi was wrecking your hole. Your eyes rolled back, your head fell, and garbled words spilled out of your mouth. All you can do is whine and cry out in pleasure while your head spins.

Mingi brings his hand down and presses his thumb against your aching clit, rubbing in fast circles to push you further over the edge until you tipped over, curses spilling out from your swollen lips alongside Mingi's name. At the same time, Mingi held onto your thighs and bottomed out inside of you finally dumping his load inside of you. Your head falls into Hongjoong's lap. He runs his fingers through your hair, easing you through your orgasm.

"You okay, tiny?" Hongjoong caresses your cheek. It took a moment to catch your breath after everything that happened. Jesus, that was a lot.

"I..." After catching your breath, you looked at Hongjoong with puppy eyes and a pout you knew he couldn't resist. "Joongie~" you whine while reaching for his hand. Mingi couldn't help but laugh at how desperate you were. How completely fucked out you looked too.

"What is it?"

"You haven't gotten a turn yet..." you mumbled while pulling on his shirt. Mingi moved out of the way without saying a word, gesturing for Hongjoong to come over. The two men switched places with Hongjoong near your hips and Mingi behind your head caressing your cheek.

Hongjoong wasn't as big as Mingi, but his length made up for it. You knew it would hit your sweet spot easily. Hongjoong positioned himself in front of you, tip lined up with your entrance and his unoccupied hand holding onto your hip. Slowly -- achingly slow, he pushes himself into you in one go, holding onto your hips tightly to not lose balance. Mingi, on the other hand, had his hand on your breast playing with your nipple. So much was happening at once it was hard to keep up.

"It's okay," Joong coos, beginning to thrust in and out of you gently. You were still so sensitive from your orgasm with Mingi. Hongjoong had just started, and it felt good. "Fuck, you're tight."

Out of nowhere, he picks up his pace. He didn't give you enough time to adjust to his length and started pounding into you, gliding his cock in and out of your warmth and watching your juices coat his member. When he heard a whimper escape your lips, he knew he was doing a good job.

"Babe," he says in between pants. "T-Touch yourself for me, yeah? Give Mingi a show while he watches,"

Embarrassed but ultimately turned on, you complied and slithered your hand down your stomach and toward your throbbing clit, rubbing rough and fast circles on it to bring yourself closer to orgasm. Hongjoong winced as you clenched around his cock from the sensation.

"Oh, fuck please," you cried out. "I-I'm gonna cum, slow down-!"

"Already?" Mingi chuckles. "What do you think, Joong? Should we let her?"

"Dammit, if she does, then I-I just might." he shudders, both hands holding onto your hips and slamming his cock in and out of your sopping hole. "I think, fuck, she's been good. Let go, baby."

You were so so close to cumming, the speed of your fingers speeding up as the circles you were rubbing in became sloppy. Occasionally you'd lose focus and wouldn't even move your fingers due to your brain turning to mush. Their voices sounded muffled in your ears. Everything they said went through one ear and out the other.

"Fuck fuck fuck-!" the volume of your moans gradually increased until you couldn't handle it anymore and came. You arched your back and curled your toes, holding onto Hongjoong's wrists. You clenched so tightly around his cock that it pushed him over the edge. He dumped his load inside of you, moaning your name and panting heavily.

"Wow.." Mingi whistles, looking at your fucked out face. "You're so pretty when you cum."

"Shut up," you replied, embarrassed with your hands over your face.

"That was fun," Hongjoong sighs deeply. "I'd do it again." he says while looking at Mingi. Mingi nods in agreement and the two look at you, waiting for your answer.

"I...wouldn't mind."

#icupids asks and submits ♡#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #dom ateez #dom!ateez #dom!hongjoong #dom hongjoong #dom!mingi #dom mingi #mingi smut #hongjoong smut

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adventuringblind · 11 months

Note

If you’re still taking requests, can you please write a wolff!reader x charles leclerc fic? And they’re secretly engaged and in love and toto finds out and he doesn’t want them together and tries to break them up. Maybe they break up for toto and then he sees how sad they are w/o each other and how happy they were together? Angst to fluff and happy ending please 😭💕💕 Tysmmm i love your work sm

Romeo and Juliet

Charles Leclerc X Wolff!Reader

Genre: ANGST lots of it but a happy fluffy ending

Request: yes, and forbidden love? Yes please! Sorry if this is darker then you were thinking… I got a little carried away 😅. I am open for requests! Mainly for Max, Charles, Oscar, Lando, Daniel, and George.

Summary: Reader and Charles are in love. Unfortunately for them, Toto is determined to keep them apart.

Warnings: Angry Toto, sad reader, Charles trying to problem solve. MENTIONS OF SH but not description of it, MENTIONS OF SUICIDAL IDEATION but again nothing descriptive, bullying and toxic media.

Notes: written in third person. Please like, comment, and reblog. I like to hear from y'all. It makes me feel like a celebrity 🥹.

Also, I've sent up my account to let tips be enabled. I was debating whether or not to say this because i dont want to sound like im begging, but frankly, people opinions do not matter me me. If you like my writing and want to support me, please consider tipping my posts or my blog. I put a lot of effort into my writing, and it would mean the world to me. Obviously, I won't have my feelings hurt if you ignor this, but I wanted to put it out there.

Masterlist

She’d never been quite sure how it happened. How she managed to find her soulmate. The two are meant for each other. The only downside is that she is living a Romeo and Juliet parody.

Being a Wolff meant spending majority of her time around the race track or at the factory. From the time she was little, she was following her dad around.

Toto never had any hard and fast rules regarding being friends with people from other teams. He couldn’t stop her from being friends with those she spent majority of her time around. He did, however, have rules about dating. Mainly not to date a driver and if she was then he would allow a Mercedes driver.

So her options were Lewis and George. She liked both, but not in any romantic way. They are her brothers. She annoys them and them tease her and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her and Charles had been friends since he first started with AlfaRomeo. The two clicked instantly and talked constantly. She was the first person he looked for after a good race or a bad one. He was her everything and she was his.

Four years later they started dating. Secretly, of course, because she didn’t want her dad smashing anymore headphones. They made it work and were willing to do what it took.

It helped that she already lived in Monaco since that’s where majority of her friends lived. It made sense why they would ‘run into each other’ so often since they live in a small place.

George found out by accident right before a race. He’d found her phone in the ground. It had fallen out of her pocket and she’d not noticed. When she had noted it’s disappearance, she tried to locate it by calling it with Charles phone.

George took one look at the caller ID and knew. The less then friendly contact name, mix of heart emoji’s, and Charles contact photo gave it away. He answered anyways. If Charles knew where she was then at least he could give her phone back.

“Hello, this is George.” He only got silence in return. “Hello…?”

“Please tell me you didn’t see the called name.” Came her voice from the other end. The desperation in your voice making him chuckle. He was never going to let her live this down.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Now can you please come get your phone.”

The two lovebirds were able to make more things work after. Being able to have George cover form them helped immensely. Dates became more frequent. Places they wouldn’t normally go were suddenly a possibility.

Lewis caught on eventually. He saw right past the sheepish smiles of George and Y/N. While she was sneaking back in the garage through George’s driver room.

Between George and Lewis the teasing only escalated, but the two of them were the best possible wingmen she could have asked for. They managed to distract her father away when she was cutting things close.

It didn’t last forever though. The ending of Romeo and Juliet isn’t a happy one.

Someone had managed to take a picture of them kissing. It was a cute picture. Charles kissing her on what was supposed to be a private beach during the sunset. A picture that she woke up to circling the medial faster that the cars on race day.

Charles woke up to her rapid breathing. Her phone lighting up the dark room with constant notifications. Charles wrapped his arms around her. “It’s alright amour. We’ll figure this out on day at a time.

Things were weird after that. She clung to Charles as she was ripped to shred by the media, the fans, and her father.

She was being called a traitor to her fathers team. Her father had labeled her disrespectful. It was an utter nightmare.

The two Mercedes boys stood protectively behind her. Toto’s voice getting louder by the second. She was still sitting in the chair opposite his. Her eyes downcast to the lightly colored desk.

“I don’t understand why you chose him. A rival team! How do I know your not telling him everything about our operations?” Toto’s voice was laced with venom. This arms waving around to exaggerate his point.

“Because I love him. And I would never do that to you.” She wanted to stay strong, but the tears were threatening to spill over.

“I don’t want to see you back here until you two are broken up.” He turned his back to her.

She quickly exited, George following close behind her. Lewis remained in the office.

“I think you’re being too hard on her.” Lewis pointed out. Still leaning in the wall close to the door. His arms crossed over his chest, staring at the team principal he holds immense respect for.

“Aren’t you concerned at all?”

“No, she loves her family to much to do anything like that.” Then he left. Finding the girl he considered his sister clinging to George’s shirt.

Both of them had seen the comments. Both had been asked about it during interviews. Both had told their fans to leave her alone. It hurt both of them to see how people were treating her. The names they felt no remorse for spewing. It made them sick.

Charles’ fans were not any better. He hated seeing them tell her nasty things. Spreading rumors they knew nothing about.

He’d tried reassuring her constantly that she is his everything, but he knew she was losing her family. The last thing he wanted to happen. He wanted to protect her from this. Guilt wracking his body because he felt powerless to do anything.

When he found her that day, sobs wracking her body as she went to find him, he knew how he could help her. The last option either of them wanted.

“I love you so much.” He said, cupping her cheek gently, letting the tears roll down his cheeks and attempting to wipe away hers. “But I don’t want you to lose your family because of me.”

Charles called George that day to tell him want he was going to do. George having understood his actions and promised to be there for her. So when the broken girl showed up at his house that night, eyes red and puffy, he’d already been ready for her. Carmen making sure that she had extra clothes for her in case she ended up staying awhile.

Charles’ next stop was to see Toto. The older man hardly sparing him a glance as he walked into the office. “I’m sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused you.” He started. Toto still faced the wall, refusing to look at him. Something Charles was grateful for. “Me and your daughter have parted ways. So, I’ll hope you’ll allow her to stay with her family. Neither of us wanted things to happen this way. But I’d rather lose her then watch her lose everything she’s grown up with and worked for.”

Charles waited a moment to see if he’d get a response before turning around and ducking out of the office.

He stayed with Pierre that night. Broken and defeated. His heart heavy with the sadness and longing to be with the woman he loved so dearly.

The media didn’t stop though. The news around them still trending. People still feeling the need to voice their disgusting comments.

Toto had tried to connect with his daughter, but received no response. In fact, nobody had. She hadn’t been to a race in months. Both George and Lewis had tried calling and texting her only to receive nothing in return. She hadn’t even read their messages.

Charles was hurting as well. He didn’t want to cause her anymore pain. So he distanced himself from everything that related to her. Carlos and Pierre had been watching his behavior. His head clearly not in a good place mentally. They were running out of ideas in how to help him.

Lewis was the one who caved first. He’d given her enough space, now it was time to invade it. He dragged George with him to her apartment in Monaco one morning. Determined to see proof that she was at least breathing.

When they got no answer, they searched for the spare key. The one she hid in the light above her front door. Relief flooding them both as George managed to locate it.

When they finally got the door open, they were greeted with the dark apartment. It looked like no one lived there. The fridge was empty and the cupboards almost mirrored it, aside from the open box of your favorite cereal.

There was broken glass along the counters and floor. Pictures had been taken off the walls. A few empty bottles of alcohol lay strewn along flat surfaces.

The woman they’d been looking for was wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Her chest slowly rising and falling.

George went to gently try and pull her from her sleep without scaring her.

Lewis on the other hand, went to investigate the rest of the rooms. Terrified at what he’d discovered.

He lightly jogged back to George, who didn’t want to pull her from her peaceful slumber, and tapped his shoulder. Motioning for the younger Brit to follow him.

Their first stop was the bedroom. Everything that reminded her of Charles had been stripped away. leaving only the mattress in the center of the room. The long mirror hanging next to the closet had been shattered. The glass that had fallen out of it scattered around the base word they’d seen people calling her written in thick black marker now divided by cracks.

Next, Lewis led them to the bathroom. The sight of it making George want to vomit. The bathroom mirror had also been cracked. Towels stained red line the countertop. Pills litter the bathroom floor. And the knife she’d been gifted by her father for her 18th birthday lay on the edge of the sink.

Who is obviously what had happened here recently.

George who was struggling to look at the scene went back to trying to coax the woman, his sister, out of her slumber. Lewis making an attempt to at lease get the area safe. Their hearts hurt for her. They knew she was hurting but neither knew it had gotten so bad.

Charles was her soulmate. Both her and Charles knew it. They had envisioned their life together. A life that she saw every time she closed her eyes.

She tried to separate herself from his memory. Tried to distract herself. But she couldn’t get her mind away from him. How he made her smile. How he listened even to the pettiest things she complained about. She wanted that back.

If her family didn’t want her for it and Charles couldn’t stand to see her hurting, then she would get back there on her own.

If their story was like Romeo and Juliet’s, why shouldn’t it end in tragedy as well?

But their story keeps going. Because they are meant for each other. So they will find away even if they don’t know it yet.

The gentle touches of Charles ghosted over her bare arms. Her mind trying to hold into the feeling even if he wasn’t here.

She cracked her eyes open to the dark room. Her body revolting as she tries to sit up. Her dehydration finally getting to her. Her head pounding from last night events.

She’s had a few episodes like this and knows she needs to get help. She doesn’t know where to start though.

She hadn’t really eaten much the last sixth months. Even food reminded her of him. How was she ever going to move in at this rate?

Then she noticed the sounds of breathing beside her. The familiar face of George greeting her, though his eyes are sad.

She immediately sits up. The horrible scene that is her apartment now clearly seen by one of the last people she wanted to know she’d sunk this far.

“George?” Her voice merely a quiet rasp.

“It’s okay now, we’re gonna help you. Okay?” His voice cracked. The male is clear distress.

Lewis came around the corner upon hearing voices. Relieved that she’d woken up. “I think we need to talk.”

Charles hadn’t been staying at his apartment. He knew he wasn’t in a good place mentally, so he went back home. His mother welcomed him with open arms, sad to hear the news of the two splitting.

He’d talked to Lewis and George about her during race weekends. Their lack of knowledge causing his concern to grow more with each passing week.

He’d tried for sixth months to force himself to move on but he knew it was in vain. She was made for him and he belonged to her. How was he supposed to move on from that?

Pascale had struggled watching her middle child. He struggled to eat, struggled to sleep, to the point it was affecting his performance.

“You should talk to her.” She suggested.

“I’ll only hurt her more.”

“I’ve been looking in social media for her. The things people are saying is terrible.” She sighs, the situation itself only getting worse. “She needs you.”

Toto knew he messed up. As soon as he’d made her choose, he knew. Only to have it confirmed when he heard the waver in Charles voice. When he didn’t see his daughter for moths. As he watched Charles performance fall.

He’d tried to contact her. Susie had encouraged him to call her the night everything happened. He’d received no response for sixth months. He’d asked Lewis about her only to be met with his sigh and sad eyes.

It’s like she disappeared from the planet. Everyone worried about her. But they collectively decided that maybe she needed space.

He knew she and Charles were happy together. He’d seen how big her smile was when she was with him. Even when he thought they were just friends. The two of them had been contagiously happy.

The next race came around quickly. At least for Charles that’s how it felt as he strode to the Mercedes paddock.

He spotted Lewis and George and weaved his way towards them. Everyone trying to get one roared for the weekend. Exactly what he should be doing.

“Charles! Listen mate-“ George had started. But Charles cut him off with the urgent need to speak with Toto before he could get in his head. “I need Toto. I need to see her again.” He was ready to break.

“He’s in his office.”

Charles didn’t waist any time making his way there. The older man a bit startled at the sudden appearance. “I love your daughter. I am begging you to not make her choose.” He was pleading but he didn’t care.

“I’m sorry.” Toto looked pained. Charles is taken off guard by it. His reaction the last thing the monegasque was expecting. “I should have never made her choose. She was happy with you. So when you go get her back, tell her I’m sorry and that I want her to come home.”

Charles fumbled around with his words. Gesturing wildly with his hands but for some reason his voice was stuck in his throat. Eventually he just nodded his head, attempting to get across his thanks.

Lewis and George were still talking. So he did the only logical thing and tackled then both in a hug. “I need to know where she is. He’s not going to make her choose.” The smile on his face so big it might fall off. “Please tell me where she’s been staying.”

Lewis and George shared a look. One that didn’t go unnoticed. “We need to talk.”

They’d told him about her state. About what she’d been going through. How they found her that morning, alone and so far into her head they didn’t know if she was going to come out.

His heart shattered listening to them. The two were connected deeper then anything he could’ve imagined. He’s upset that he didn’t get the courage to fight for her sooner.

She’d been spending her time since they found her with either if the boys. Neither wanted to leave her alone after that. So they made sure she wasn’t alone after that.

Her apartment was still mildly wrecked but they weren’t worried about it. They just wanted to get her out of her head.

Now he had a chance. They had brought her with them. She didn’t want to come to the track so she was back at the hotel. Tucked away from the world.

Now Charles was speeding to her location. Lewis’ key card in hand. Determination filling his veins. He needed to see her, desperately. His heart ached the last six months. He didn’t want to never see her again. Charles loved her with his entire being.

The trip was a blur for him. Not even realizing he was at the door until he had no more steps left to take.

He decided to knock first. He wanted to be respectful. He’d use the key as his last resort.

He got nervous when the handle turned. What was he going to say? He didn’t have time to think about it as the door swung open. Revealing the love of his life. Still as beautiful as when he last saw her. Though his heart dropped at the sight.

Bags under eyes, her body smaller then he remembered. Then there was the white bandages running up her arms. She was wearing a tank top and sweats, obviously not expecting him to show up.

They stared at each other for a moment. Then the tears started. She was in his arms in a second. Clutching him like he would disappear if she let go.

He breathed her in. “I’m here, I got you, and I’m never letting you go again.”

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cinnamoneve · 4 months

Note

could you write prompt 16 with getou please?? thank you !!

baby i forgot about this event so bad but im back ₊˚⊹⋆

prompt #6 -“did you know you’re famous in my group of friends?”

𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ "bookstore girl" by charlie burg

part of my off the record requests: masterlist | make a request !

thank you for your patience and love <;3

suguru geto would never consider himself a hopeless romantic, per say.

maybe he believed in soulmates, longed for true love, or perhaps his thoughts on ‘love at first sight’ were dubious, at best.

he was private about it all. notoriously hard to read and moderately private, suguru’s thoughts on love were his own to keep.

until he met you, that is.

yaga tasked poor suguru with a little bit of an unconventional task for a jujutsu tech student, which was to head into the city and study like a ‘normal’ student his age would. buy a textbook, a nonfiction book–anything, really–sit in a coffee shop, study the people around you and enjoy it. enjoy yourself.

immersion was the goal overall. study people better, understand them. live like them.

although that’s what yaga said, all suguru heard was ‘be normal.’

he could try for a day, he thought. it was stupid, but he did say he’d try.

so he left the jujutsu tech uniform at home, opted to dress down for the day, and took the train into the city on a quest for a local mom-and-pop bookstore.

which he found, eventually. nestled on the corner of two quiet backroads, suguru ducked into the first tiny bookstore he could find. all of the rows of gently loved novels towered above him, and the smell of the worn pages was intoxicating.

he wasn’t sure if he’d ever experienced anything like it in his life; it was a total overload of his senses. it was warm there, but not physically. warming would be the better word. he was overwhelmed on where he should start looking first.

“welcome in!”

a soft voice echoed in the rows of books–and there you were.

suguru couldn’t help but stare. you were sorting through returns, sitting at the desk in the back of the shop, playing some music out loud.

“thank you,” was all he could mutter out.

“looking for anything specific today?”

“just browsing,”

you smiled sweetly at him. maybe the warmth was coming from you all along.

“let me know if you need anything,”

you looked back down at the book you were checking in, not noticing the way his eyes lingered a little bit too long on you.

suguru pushed on through the store, not sure where to begin. he was thinking more about you than whatever yaga told him to pick up. he settled on sociology books, thinking that they’d give him more of an insight on humanity.

so immersed in the appendixes and summaries of his choices, he barely heard you sneak up into the aisle with your little book cart to put away some returns. he snapped out of it when he focused in on the way you were gently humming to yourself, checking the number on the spine before you found its home.

“actually, could i ask you something?”

you put down the book you were rehoming as you looked at the man in front of you. “mhm, sure,”

“do you have any…normal books?” he knew it was stupid the second it came out of his mouth. you tried not to laugh as you cocked your head slightly at him, as if it would help you understand it better.

“hmm…can’t say we do…” you started, “what do you mean ‘normal,’? like…what’s popular now?”

a way out. it wasn’t what he meant, but it was better than whatever he was trying to say.

“yeah, sorry, that’s what i mean; where can i find those?”

“right this way,”

you lead him through the shop, navigating the rows and rows like the back of your hand. it seemed you were the only two people in there at the moment. he could tell he was at the back of the shop by the way your music softly played.

“here’s some of our best sellers at the moment,” you stopped to pick one up from the pile, “i really liked this one! the characters are really interesting and so realistic, and the writing isn’t too bad either. what were you looking for specifically?”

suguru took the book from your extended hand, feeling the weight shift as he held it.

“this is perfect, actually, i’ll take this one,”

“sure thing, let me check you out,” you scurried back to the desk, continuing to hum along with your music as it came back into earshot. “buying or renting today?”

suguru thought about it. he had the money to buy it, and it would save him a trip. but renting it would give him another excuse to see you. he’d already made up his mind before you even asked the question.

“rent, please,”

nodding, you had him fill out the rental agreement as you finished ringing him up. giving him his book and receipt, you smiled and leaned over the desk.

“thanks for coming in, you’ll have to let me know if you like it or not,”

he felt his heart melt, just a little bit. he thanked you and promptly left, kicking himself that he didn’t even get what he was assigned to. he shrugged it off though, found a cute cafe to match, and read the book you recommended to him.

suguru was so engrossed in it. the sun was quickly setting on a busy tokyo as he hopped on a train back to jujutsu tech, thinking about nothing but you and the book he’s come to love.

satoru was on him as soon as he returned.

“get a lot of studying done today, suguru?”

“something like that,” this piqued that white haired man’s interest.

“what do you mean ‘something like that?’” he laughed, “you were gone for hours!”

“i couldn’t really focus,” he starts, “i got a book, and i read it, but i wasn’t really reading it, you know?” satoru raised an eyebrow.

“what’s really goin’ on,” he teased. suguru sighed. nothing gets by satoru’s nosey ass.

“there’s this girl…” suguru confessed. and satoru listened. suguru told him all about you. the music you played, your sweet demeanor, the way that you recommended him a book, how you hummed softly along to the songs blaring out from the desk. suguru spared no details, down to the shirt you were wearing that he loved.

“she told you to tell her what you thought of it? the book, i mean?”

“mhm,” suguru nodded, gently carding through the pages of the book.

“well, man, now you gotta go back there,”

satoru let the silence linger a bit before heading back to his own room for the night. “just finish that damn book quickly.”

suguru pushed his lips out, laying flat on his bed as he looked at the book next to him. maybe, unfortunately, satoru was right, and he should visit again. he picked up the book, finding where he left off to settle in with it for the night.

by morning, satoru’s big mouth had spread the news of his friend’s little crush to all of their friends. while you were just starting your day at the bookstore, suguru was trying to brush off your celebrity status among the students at jujutsu tech.

“going to see your bookstore girl today?” shoko’s voice was as nonchalant as ever, looking up at suguru as he headed out for the day.

“who knows,” he lied. suguru was heading out with only the book in his hand. he paid a little bit more attention to his outfit, made sure his hair was neat, and caked himself in cologne.

who knows. everyone knew, actually. something about love made suguru a bit more careless than he usually would. he tried so hard to downplay what he was feeling, but he was bursting with excitement as he left.

“oiiii~” a familiar man with sunglasses yells from the yard, “maybe get her name this time, romeo~”

suguru didn’t turn around.

but he thought about it on the train. something about the mystery was sweet to him. he lives his own life, and you do yours. he didn’t need to know your name to know that he liked you.

the door chimed as he walked inside. the warmth of your voice shone through the aisles of books.

“welcome in!”

he headed to the back, following your voice like you were a siren.

“oh, hello again,” you smiled at him. “back already?”

“yeah, actually, i really liked it,”

“was it ‘normal’ enough for you?”

suguru felt the tips of his ears get red. you remembered him. you remembered his incredibly stupid choice of words. but he smiled.

“it was. i can see why you like it. the characters are really realistic, i think it was well done.” he put the book on the counter, letting you take it and look at it more as the two of you chatted about it.

“if you liked this one, you might really love another one by the same author…”

his eyes followed your body as you got up to another area of the store, talking about how the metaphors follow through the entire series, how the characters are shaped by one another, how–

“sorry, i’m rambling,” you giggle, “you don’t have to follow my recommendations if you don’t want to,”

“no, it sounds interesting,” he smiles back, “i’ll rent this one too,”

“perfect,” you beam. and you check him out, humming again to your music, oblivious to the man across from you checking you out in a different way.

“here you are! i’m excited to see what you think of it,”

he nodded, heading out as he thanked you again, holding the book a little bit closer than he normally would. suguru walked to the same cafe as yesterday, sitting down and losing himself between the lines of whatever you recommended him. time passed, the sun set, and he caught the train home.

satoru was standing in the hall, heading to bed when suguru came back.

“don’t wanna hear it, satoru,”

“i didn’t even say anything yet~”

suguru shut his door and laid in bed. he can’t go back tomorrow, right? maybe the next day, he wasn’t sure.

but it became his routine. he’d head out to go see his aptly named ‘bookstore girl,’ ranting and raving about the books you’d recommend to him as you gushed about the next one he should read. you two slowly learned about one another, in a weird way–solely through the books you shared.

you exchanged ones that you’ve annotated and wrote small messages for him in the margin. he’d give them back with notes of his own, answering your sweet little notes with an observation of his own.

suguru didn’t care much for reading, but he cared a lot about you. he’d practically memorized your shifts, the hours of the bookstore, and the time of day when it’d be quieter. still, he could not recall your name to anyone.

pressured by his friends, he went into the city on a sunny sunday to ask you on a date once and for all. after you’d told him about the latest short story by a poet you like, suguru brushed off his nerves and went for it.

“do you want to maybe…grab coffee sometime?”

you smiled a bit as you felt your cheeks get hot, but you tried to play it cool,

“i’d love that, actually,”

“you work until 3, right? maybe 4pm then?”

“the shop closes at noon today,” you smirked.

suguru knew that. he’d been here dozens of times. he knew the hours like the back of his hand. why was he so uncharacteristically nervous?

“i’ll wait for you to close up then,”

“it’s a date,” you smiled.

suguru didn’t get what his poor teacher told him to. he wasn’t sitting in a coffee shop watching people, or studying people in the way that yaga instructed. suguru felt closer to humanity in a way, though, as he watched the cute girl behind the desk counter hum along to her music as she always did, a slight blush painting her cheeks in anticipation for her date.

#off the record requests #♡ suguru #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #suguru geto #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #getou x reader #getou suguru x you #getou suguru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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teamatsumu · 5 months

Text

was i meant to love you? (last part)

pairing: miya osamu x reader

summary: the kanji on your arm says miya atsumu’s name. but every fiber of your being is in love with his twin brother.

word count: 1501

warnings: swearing, some angst, happy ending

tags: @hadukada @utopiamiroh @angstylittleb1tch @sassycheesecake @i-have-no-life-charlie @tsukiran-blog @mommyourcall420 @ak-aaa-li @ti-mame @ellesalazar @seijaelee @hiraethwa

a/n: this is so late im so sorry writers block is a little bitch but omg this is the last part! I hope you all like it xx

previous part // series masterlist

The living room was hardly silent, between the sitcom playing on TV and Atsumu’s incredibly loud chewing, but it still felt like the air was thick and still around you. You were sure it was just you, and not Atsumu who felt this way. It likely had to do with your apprehension, trying to prepare yourself for the topic at hand. You remembered Osamu’s words, drawing confidence from his encouragement. You tried to revise in your head how to approach this, but your bravery was failing you.

How the hell were you supposed to tell your soulmate that you weren’t in love with him?

Osamu’s platonic soulmates theory didn’t sound all too convincing to you, but hearing that it came from Kita did give you some confidence. You were sure Kita would never put forth an idea that he didn’t consider to have merit. So maybe there was some weight to his words. You were still on the fence though. It all depended on what Atsumu had to say about it.

Speaking of, you watched Atsumu slurp down his ramen like it was his last meal on earth, and you could empathize with him. His routine was grueling. A lot went into being a pro athlete, much more than you could have anticipated. You almost felt bad for springing this on him after a tiring day when he was trying to wind down. But you didn’t exactly have any other opportunity for it.

You cleared your throat and shifted in place, turning so you were facing Atsumu instead of the TV. He turned to look at you, slurping up a noodle dangling from his mouth before licking his lips and giving you a look.

“I need to talk to you about something.” You fidgeted with your fingers, unable to look him in the eye. Atsumu seemed to freeze, leaning forward to place his bowl on the coffee table before facing you and giving you his full attention. Somehow that made it harder for you to get the words out. Your mouth opened and closed like a dumb goldfish. Several moments passed.

Atsumu’s hand landed on top of your own, halting the nervous movements of your fingers. You closed your eyes, feeling a sudden wave of shame wash over you.

“Just say it.” He spoke gently, as if understanding the turmoil going on in your head. You looked up at him, at the calming brown of his eyes and the soft curl of his mouth, and you felt yourself tear up.

“You don’t deserve this.” You breathed, shaking your head. “I can’t do this to you. I’m a horrible person.”

His lip ticked up in a little smile. “Ya gotta give me more than that, babe. I have no idea what yer talkin’ about.”

“I don’t-” You felt the words pour out of you like vomit. “I don’t think I love you. Not like I should. And it’s tearing me apart because I care for you so much and Osamu told me about this thing called platonic soulmates which sounds like bullshit, I know, but it explains the way I’m feeling! But sometimes I just feel like I’m a bad person and this is my way of justifying it-”

“Wait-”

“And I do love you. So much Tsumu, you’re my closest friend and you understand me so well but I don’t feel it romantically at all, which is so fucked up-”

“Hey!” You stopped short, staring at the man before you with teary eyes. You expected him to look horrified. Maybe confused. Definitely hurt. But all you saw was amusement.

“Ya gotta cool it.” He grinned, running a hand through your hair while the other squeezed yours comfortingly.

“S-sorry.” You choked out, sniffling a bit.

Atsumu sighed, staring down at your joined hands. The moment was silent except your wet sniffles, and the very low volume of the TV playing in the background. You watched as Atsumu smiled a bit.

“I’m relieved.” He spoke up, and you blinked at his words. “I always thought I was a fuckin’ asshole, ya know? ‘Cause yer so beautiful and a great person. But kissing ya was kinda painful.”

You gasped. “Hey!”

“Yer telling me the thought of layin’ a smooch on me didn’t make ya wanna barf?” Atsumu retaliated, and you fell silent, still sneering. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head.

“What did ya say it was called?”

“Platonic soulmates.”

Atsumu hummed. “Makes sense. Yer my best friend.”

You smiled at that, squeezing his hand. “And you’re mine.”

When he opened his arms, you fell into them, reveling in his embrace. Somehow, it felt ten times better than any time you had hugged him. You figured it had to do with the fact that your chronic guilt was not bothering you anymore. You buried your face in Atsumu’s neck.

“I love ya.”

“I love you, too.”

A bout of silence.

“But not like that.”

You let out a laugh. “I get it, Tsumu.”

“Just wanted ta make it clear.”

“Shut up.”

And he did. You smiled and settled into him, feeling lighter than you had in years.

……………………

When Osamu saw the look on Atsumu’s face, he immediately froze. He knew, in that instant, that you had talked to his brother. He just knew Atsumu too well to not know any change in his demeanor. And his demeanor had definitely changed. Except it wasn’t the change he was expecting.

Atsumu looked more relaxed. Happier, even? Maybe that was going too far. But then his twin was grinning up at him and settling into a stool in front of the counter, and Osamu could no longer ignore the spring in his step.

“What’s got ya so preppy?” He tested, trying not to build up his hope. Atsumu grinned.

“I just got answers ta some really old questions.” He replied, and Osamu raised an eyebrow.

“Wanna tell me what yer talkin’ about?”

And Atsumu did, sounding jovial, and with a light tone. Osamu stayed rock still as he spoke, unable to believe that Atsumu too had felt this way his whole life. He was almost shocked that he had missed such a huge part of his brother’s feelings, but it was overshadowed by the kindling of hope in his chest at the prospect that he could actually be with the girl he loved.

So when Atsumu had stopped talking, and Osamu had served him a plate of fresh Onigiri, he worked up the courage to drop another bomb on his twin. One that was arguably worse than the Platonic Soulmates one.

“Tsumu,” he began. “What do ya think about her datin’…. someone else?”

“Hm?” Atsumu looked up at his brother. “Why? She like someone?”

Osamu nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He finally let the words leave his mouth.

“M-me.”

Atsumu stopped eating then, eyes meeting Osamu’s. Osamu felt like he was holding his breath, heart racing.

“I like her too. Uh, it’s- I’ve liked her for a while. Didn’t do anythin’ for obvious reasons, ya know.”

Atsumu sighed, turning back to his plate. He bit into another rice ball.

“What is this? Kimchi mayo? It’s real good.”

Osamu blinked, trying to fight off his incredulity in favor of staring down his brother.

“Are ya for real?”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Samu, ‘m not really shocked. It’s pretty obvious ya got a thing for her. And I don’t have anything with her at all, so if ya wanna date, go ahead.”

Then he gave Osamu a lopsided grin, and Osamu felt like everything in the universe had just fallen into place.

“Ya better not break her heart though. She’s still my soulmate.”

Osamu’s smile was genuine. His relief was immense. He felt almost stupid with joy at that point. And he realized he gave Atsumu far less credit than his due. His brother had just stumped him completely, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

“I won’t.”

………………….

Your and Osamu’s first kiss wasn’t anything to write home about. It was at a train station, rushed and messy, so quick that you almost didn’t feel it. It was immediately followed by a feeling of regret, panic and guilt. Something you both wanted so bad, but couldn’t have. So forbidden that it broke your heart into pieces.

Your second kiss was the exact opposite in every single way. Everything that had broken your heart seemed to mend now. Heart and stomachs both full after the wonderful date you had just been on, when Osamu finally leaned down to press his lips on yours. It felt like every fiber of your body had been pulled taut and then released, and your hands felt shaky as you finally allowed them to run over his body. His own grip was worryingly tight, arms enveloping you completely, not that you minded. You reveled in the feeling of his mouth, hoping you never stopped kissing him. Hoping he never let you go.

The kiss did end. But he never let you go.

#miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu angst #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst #hq fluff #miya atsumu x reader

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nikolais-eyepatch · 2 months

Text

THIS TOOK SO LONGGG IM SORRY U GUYS BUT I KINDA LIKE THIS SHOULD I MAKE A PT 2??? <333 YOU GUYS PLS READ THIS I THINK THIS MIGHT BE MY BEST WORKSSS!! also thing is i had dazai in mind for this but then i thought that it might be ooc so the character can be anyone!!

warnings : murder, stalking, suggestive writing, two psychos in love <33 (i do not condone these actions outside of fanfiction)

word count : 3.291K

(credit to @tookio for the dividers throughout the story!! lace one!! )

In the dimly lit streets of the city, where shadows, secrets, whispers and crime had all intertwined. You would have never ever even thought about the fact that you would have met him. Handsome was an understandment, but beneath all that charisma lies a man that you had met that fateful night.

You had simply seen him...everywhere. he was quiet the talk. his name was well-known. but by each passing day the paranoia increased. you had seen his smile, it was so perfect. god even you had a slight crush on the man, who wouldn't?

just like everyone else you had fantasies too, i mean his skin was so smooth...it'd be a perfect addition to you're collection. Out of everyone you had seen he simply had this charm you've never even noticed in others. why not indulge yourself in these weird fantasies? i mean sure you wouldn't be acting them out, so what harm right!

As a detective it was normal for you to get off work late, helping others and solving crimes. The pay was quite good in honesty, that's the only reason you sticked around.

nothing really interested you when you think about it, from a young age everything was all, blank. You really couldn't give a shit about anyone. You were only doing your job.

So when you stumbled across him as you entered the alley and heard the sound of something gushing, was that the sound of... stabbing? You never had thought you would've found him. murdering the man who had asked for your hand, you wouldn't blame him. he was an nuisance.

in the dim lights the eye contact between you two was tense, until you had sighed and raised an eyebrow as the words stumbled out.

"you seem like a busy man tonight, sir." you say unbothered at the sight as you continue observing him, he was wet with blood, obviously, you note. the smell was unbearable, so was the sight...he really did a number on him.

his eyes twinkle with amusement, a devilish smirk playing upon his lips. "Indeed, I am. But fear not, dear detective, I hold no ill intentions toward you." His voice was smooth as he reassured you.

you simply stare at him confused as you decide to do what's best, "That's...fine by me, sir. Have a good night dear stranger." you brush off as you wave goodbye to him and continue your merry way back home.

you weren't bothered...? oh how happy he was! with a grin spread across his face reaching his ears he watched you turn the other way and walk away. thank god! He had his eyes on you for sososo long!! You never knew how much he had wanted to possess you, to claim her as his own, even if it meant succumbing to the darkest corners of his soul! You saw him murder...yet you didn't even react? you could have done anything! gone to the police- ran away- or even decide to do something since you yourself were a detective! but no! you didn't! this means something right? you kept his secret! he knows you will! who else would you tell? this is perfect...that means you agree to be his! i mean c'mon- you didn't even care! he confirms your the one- only one!!! such a Fateful night, gosh!!

your figure gets smaller and smaller as he watched you with a giddy attitude, forgetting all about the body just by his foot...he had wanted to court you...he couldn't have that could he? he did this for you! and you didn't even care much about him! your the perfect one!!!

he always had a yearning to understand his soulmate...who dares to walk the same path as him yet stands on opposite sides of the moral divider. now? he's gotten his answer

As the days passed, the memory of him lingered in your thoughts, a persistent thorn in his otherwise impenetrable psyche. Intrigued by his motives and everything, you had found yourself drawn to his presence, craving the thrill of her company...this was bad.

One night you had no idea how it had happened. some bitch had been getting on your nerves. next second you find yourself in the same alleyway you and that man had met, as you continue stabbing the woman, her face was disformed, her organs were showing as the blood spurted out, god...it felt so right. The greed taking over as you took advantage of her drunk-like state. If her face wasn't disformed from the amount of struggle she put in, maybe you would have used her skin to experiment.

you now see why killing was such a thrill, simply from hearing it from others at your work, to looking for clues, even going to crime scenes and asking witnesses, to reading such books at night before bed, and witnessing that man do a gruesome sin so casually?? you had given up. all the pent up amount of anger and frustration showing up as you showed no mercy to the woman under you and you continue making the same motion.

up, down, squelch, up. up, squelch, down, up. up, squelch, down, actions that were considered psychotic and you were against all going down the drain- you were a detective goddammit! why was this happening?? god you just-

you stop all actions as your moments falter at the sound of footsteps. turning your head to the direction you found him, standing there with a smirk.

you chuckle and soften your eyes as you say "dear stranger, we meet again." you say as you observe him, this time it was you who was covered in blood, him a witness to your deepest desires.

he had always questioned whether his feelings towards you were love or obsession....whether you'd get to live or die was depended on what he had thought of you. yet, seeing you in this light made him question his own motives.

"Once again, fate brings us together," he murmured, his voice cold yet amused. "I see our paths are destined to cross repeatedly." From the corner of his eye, he noticed your hand gripping the weapon tightly, a mask of determination etched onto her face. "What brings you here, my dear detective?" He asked, curiosity mingled with a slight bit of excitement.

"ah business, my dear stranger." you commented as you eye him up and down, you didn't really know if it was in attraction or disgust really, everything was too foggy in your brain.

rights confused with wrongs, left and rights, north and south, west and east, god it was such a ecstatic feeling!

a faint smirk graced his lips as he studied his dear, the veneer of his composure never faltering. "Business, you say?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow. "And what kind of 'business' requires the taking of a life?" His gaze shifted to the dead woman on the ground.

you were like him!!! he was so happy!! imagine the dates you could have since you and him were alike!! he wonders if you'll kill for him too as he has for you, his dear spouse!!!

"The usual, now we've both caught each other doing this act of....sin haven't we?" you say warning reminding him oh his own crimes as you cautiously look at him for any reactions as you clutch your knife suspicious at his motive.

The gleam in his eyes intensified, acknowledging the truth in your statement. He let out a soft chuckle, a sinister sound that echoed through the alleyway. "so it seems we share a common bond, after all. you and I, the hunter's. It is a curious coincidence, indeed." Pausing briefly, he continued, "But our roles do not define us, my dear detective. Shall we exchange confessions, or shall we continue our separate journeys?" he asked with a smirk.

god you don't get it!! he's so nervous! he's itching to hold you! please say yes! he'll actually die and drag you with him if you say no!!

after a few moments of silence you break it with a simple, "Shall we have dinner at mine?" you ask as you tilt my head in curiosity of his response.

he raised an eyebrow at the unexpected invitation, but there was no denying the allure of its audacity. There was something about you that piqued his interest, a challenge he couldn't resist. "An intriguing proposition, detective," he replied, his voice smooth as silk. "I accept, under one condition. We shall share our darkest secrets over dinner, and I believe that you have tales worth hearing." With slow steps he walked towards you.

you have no idea what you do to him, your so perfect...he cant believe he had forgotten the ring at home. he'll make it up though, perhaps a night together? Would you enjoy that?

he walks towards you not to startle you as you stay put and clutch the knife by your side, once he reaches you he gently takes the knife out of your hand and holds it by his side,a small gesture to make sure you wouldn't stab him or the woman anymore. Speaking of, he continues observes the woman below the two. he knows your not dumb enough to leave evidence due to your experience, so he leaves it at that.

you speak up continuing the eye contact as you admit, "I don't have much stories, i can assure you that. This is my other darkest secret. The art of killing is quite fascinating, no? The motives, blood, shrill, everything." you sigh out in relief.

Oh? Quite amusing, no?

as you spoke, he observed you closely, noting the dreamy quality in your voice. There was a certain thrill in her words, a shared understanding that surprised him. "The art of killing..." he mused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "It is indeed a fascinating dance, a deadly waltz between life and death. But it is not merely the violence that captivates me; it is the web of motivations that drive individuals to such extremes. Tell me, what fuels your passion for it?" He asked, genuinely interested in her answer. he himself personally knew that beneath the surface of any killer, layered a story untold.

"My story..? I apologize but i'm not that quite fascinating. i simply wanted to feel the thrill and joy, i suppose that's what makes us different. Now dear stranger, care to have dinner with me tonight?" you remind him of the pervious offer as you start to get slightly impatient at the questions.

he nodded, accepting the change in direction of the conversation. "Very well, detective. Your reasons for your actions may not be as elaborate as mine, but they are yours nonetheless." he paused for a moment, considering her proposal. "Yes, I accept your invitation. Tonight it is." A sly smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, the anticipation of their meeting building within him. "Perhaps over dinner, we will uncover more about each other's motivations and the shadows that shape us." he says that more as a promise as the gaze in his eyes are tender yet filled with a look that makes you shiver...surprisingly.

you offer a hand for him, taking the offered hand, he felt the cool body temperature compared to his warmth.

His eyes flickered with surprise, but he hid it well. "You leave no trace, do you?" he remarked, his tone neutral. "a wise precaution, one that I respect." Turning to face you, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders, guiding her through the dimly lit alleyway. "Now, let us embark on this adventure you speak of. to uncover the shadows that shape us, we must first delve into the darkness that binds us."

his arm slides down her shoulder and instead their fingers entwined, the two walked side by side, an unlikely duo drawn together like magnets...

"your skin is so smooth, i'd gladly use it as a use for my future experiment, but for now i shall continue doing research." you note to him as you walk hand in hand to your apartment, a new unlikely bond forming.

he smiles as he stays quiet as he observes you take out your keys, unlock the said door to your apartment, and let him go in first, he does so as he steps in a couple of steps as he comments "Your home reflects your nature, detective. Cluttered yet organized, a testament to your duality."

you lock the door as you step in with him and guide him to the small table, oddly enough you had two chairs across from each other with a small round table in between.

he sits as you gesture for him to sit as his eyes simply watch you, never taking them off you or your figure...this is a dream come true for him, dear. you have no idea of all the nights he's thought about this, a fantasy now a reality.

you start by assuring him "I don't plan on having your head, rest assure my dear. I simply wish to enjoy the warmth of a dinner."

he gets even more ecstatic but doesn't let it show as his lips quirk into a small smile.

"Warmth, indeed. An appropriate word for the evening, don't you think?" he comments as he puts his cheek in his palm which is resting on the table as he tilts his head and continues smiling at you.

warmth, warmth?

in the small moments of chatting and such while you prepare dinner for two as he observes you continue talking about exchanged stories- tales of their past, their motivations, and the darkness that haunted them.

you set down the plates on his and your side as you sit in your chair and begin eating, silence overtakes the two as you continue enjoying the warmth of another person and the food which isn't as bad as the one's from the other days.

you start by saying "now when we first met, did you know the man you had killed my dear? He was planning on courting me the next day...but you had killed him" you say wiping your lips with a napkin to ensure you didn't look improper infront of your new guest.

his moments falter then he hides it with a smirk as his gaze locking onto you. "a twist of fate, then," he said quietly, setting down the fork for a moment to take a sip of the water. "Your intended suitor, replaced by an unexpected encounter with me. A interesting meeting that led us here, sharing a meal and confessions. Quite poetic, don't you think?" He resumed eating, his expression the same. "yet, I wonder, why did you not reciprocate his feelings towards you? Was there something about him that displeased you?"

he asked, curious about her feelings toward the man he had intentionally kiled yet he masks it up with curiosity wanting to know more about his dear,

"He simply...wouldn't approve of my ideals." you say as you shrug your shoulders as you put down your fork and admire the man across from you, the lighting right above the table highlighting his features, his eyes downwards as he focuses on eating, his face looking charming as ever, and him.

he meets your eyes as he then says "Ideals are a tricky thing, aren't they? They can either bring people together or tear them apart. And in this case, it seems like your ideals kept you from that fateful engagement." He pondered for a moment, then added, "Tell me more about these ideals, detective. What drives you to walk this dark path?" He wanted to understand you better, to unravel the threads that made you...you!!

As they continued their meal, the conversation flowed effortlessly, each revelation painting a clearer picture of his dear sitting across from him.

with questions unanswered from your side, you get up as you collect both your and his empty dishes as you walk to the sink and rinse the plates with water before putting soap on a sponge and getting to work.

he watched you move gracefully about the kitchen, a mix of admiration and amusement playing across his features. "You have a peculiar charm, detective. one cannot help but be drawn in by you." He mused, leaning back in his chair. "but I must ask, will you always be the hunter, or do you ever allow yourself to be hunted?" His question was gentle, yet persistent, encouraging you to reveal another factor about your life.

you decide to indulge in his charm as you answer "i can be anything you want, my dear," you say as you continue scrubbing the dishes not bothering to turn back and look at him as you continue your work.

his eyes never move off your figure as he starts by saying "perhaps...there is more to discover within each other than just our dark interests, dearest."

He stood up, crossing the room to stand behind her. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he whispered softly into her ear, "And what of your fantasies, detective? Do share them with me, and I promise to fulfill them." His breath tickled her neck, a gentle reminder of his presence. The tension in the air thickened, their connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

you simply cherish his warmth compared to your coldness as you hum a tone enjoying the temporary- no forever moments between you two.

after a short while you say "our night that day i suppose was a fateful night, no?" you say moving for a bit turning off the faucet and then setting the plates. Afterword's, drying your hands then meeting his body against yours as you put your arms around his neck with a playful smirk.

he returned her smile, his own smirk matching her playfulness. "Yes, indeed, a fateful night-" he agreed yet interrupting himself, leaning in instead to brush a soft kiss against her lips. the kiss was a small one, simply enjoying the softness against lips as you seal an invisible oath.

he continues on "-One that will echo through our dreams and shape our reality. Your hands are clean now, but I fear, my dear detective, I may never wash off the stains of our shared past." He pulled her close, as if that was even possible as he and you enjoy the tenderness as his hand cups your cheek.

"in what way my dear? we have such a bond...our fondness could increase more, it'd be a shame if it went to waste." you say as you nuzzle closer to his hand on your cheek.

" I am merely a shadow, a whisper in the wind that brings forth change," he then plants a soft kiss at the softness of your neck below you jaw as he continues, "but for you? my dear, call me whatever you wish for tonight, i am yours just as if you are mine."

Their embrace lingered, filled with unspoken promises and desires. The air between them crackled with anticipation, a silent agreement to explore the boundaries of themselves to the fullest for eternity.

"care to spend the night, dear?" you ask, a simple question yet very obvious intentions.

knowing the answer yet he considered your invitation, his eyes never leaving yours. "I accept, under one condition: You allow me to learn everything about you, and share with me your deepest secrets." He whispered, his tone low and seductive. "only then can we truly merge our shadows, becoming one in the dance of darkness." His fingers tightened subtly, pulling her closer still despite the closeness.

"Then afterwords...do we forget about everything we had tonight? Or maybe...are you thinking of something else dear?" You ask hopefully as you push a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"Such forgetfulness does have its merits, but it would be foolish to discard the memories we create. Instead, let's keep them locked away in our hearts, to be revisited only for us." He leaned in, brushing his lips with yours as he continues holding your cheek tenderly.

This was more than mere attraction; it was a bond born of shared darkness and mutual understanding. He knew that this encounter would leave an indelible mark on them both, and he welcomed it. Their passion grew, fueled by secrets and desires, until they succumbed to the pull of the night, surrendering to the whims of fate and their own twisted dreams.

OMG YOU GUYS THIS IS ACC NOT BAD??!!! WOW IM BACK U GUYSS <3333

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braxlrose · 1 year

Note

HII ! CAN I REQUEST A LOT (like A LOT) OF BILL SFW AND NSFW HEADCANNONS PLS 🙏🙏 the brain rot is hitting hard. THANK U

YESS!!! SORRY I HAVENT WRITTEN IN LIKE 2 WEEKS YOU GUYS IM SO SORRY

this is not proofread btw BUT ANYWAYS

Bill is a sucker for you

When you two first met in 2003 when you moved to Magdeberg, he fell in love so quickly

He believes in love at first sight and in destiny and soulmates

He truly believes you two are meant for eachother

Now even though he does believe in that, it takes him a while to want to be bf and gf

When he found out you played an instrument, he fell EVEN harder

After a few days of pining for you and constantly talking to tom about you, he sits down next to you in class

He starts chatting with you a bunch and ends up finding out so much about you

When he told you he was in a band you were so intrigued

You always wanted to start your own band but never met the right people

He invited you to come to one of their concerts and you had such a fun time

You thought he looked so cute (and cool!!) when he was wearing his plaid skirt in front of everybody

You two got closer and you even met Gustav, Georg and Tom

Tom was totally skeptical of you at first

He thought that you were using him for your own gain or just pretending to be his friend to embarress him.

A lot of people had bullied Bill and he just wanted to make sure you weren't one of them

But he got less skeptical as you and Bill grew closer and actually came to liking you

On your first date with Bill, he came to your house and even brought you flowers

He's just cute like that

Your dad thought he was gonna be some perverted little teenage boy (he is but not in the gross bad way) so when he came to your house with a cute smile on his face and flowers in his hands he was surprised to say the least

He brought you two to a drive in movie theater and you guys sat in the back of his step-dads truck.

He brought a blanket for you two and his mom gave him some money so he could get you guys popcorn, soda and candy

You two watched Labyrinth

And he later found out you also shared his joy for David Bowie

After that you two were officially bf and gf

You would sit at lunch with him and the band

And come to his house

His mom LOVED you

You two would also make out up in his room

Tom would always interrupt you guys 😒

You were there at the site when the band was filming 'Monsun' and were so in love with him

He looked amazing and felt so happy and less stressed because you were there

When the musikvideo came out, TONS of girls became obsessed with him

Which made you a bit insecure and jealous, but Bill always reassured you, he only wanted you and no one else

When they went on a tour in the summer, after weeks of asking your mom she finally agreed to let you go with them.

You went on the tour bus with them, which they were all happy to have you

They loved you and thought you were the perfect match for bill

You two would cuddle while sleeping and he would always hold your waist

In the mornings, you'd sit on his lap and do his makeup for him

Which he definitely enjoys, yk having a pretty girl on his lap

He just sits there and smiles up at you since your faces are like 2 inches away from eachother

You obviously get free tickets for the gigs and love watching them

Bill loves hearing you scream out their songs and is super happy whenever he's finished a song and sees you smiling and waving at him

After a show, you always run back stage and give him a big kiss which lasts forever

When you guys go to parties you two are either standing by the food table drinking spiked punch

On one of the couches making out

Or dancing together

If you're standing by the food table, he has you standing in front of him and has his arms wrapped around you waist

If you get tired, he'll turn you around and have you lay against his chest with one of his hands rubbing your back and the other playing with your hair

If you two on are one of the couches making out, he has his hands tightly on your hips and your hands on in his hair, if it's more of a heated make out

If you two are just mindlessly making out, soft and slow. He has you sitting sideways on his lap and has his hand caressing your hair. No tongue, just soft sweet kisses

NOW

If you two are dancing together, like I've said A MILLIONS TIMES.

hands. on. your. waist.

He loves having his head buried in your neck and swaying your hips side to side.

He loves the closeness

Once you guys get home from a party you are tired out

You go up to yours and bills hotel room and you two practically pass out

But first you change out of your closes

Sometimes

It really depends on how drunk you two are

All of those 3 scenarios are a result of drinking

If you were standing by the food table, you were drinking which either led to dancing or making out.

And the making out led to dancing

And the dancing led to making out

But anyways

No matter how drunk bill is, he's always holding you close

In bed there are many positions

Yk..

For..

SLEEPING

YOU DIRTY MINDED PPL OH MY GOD IM DISAPOINTED

UGH

Anywayssss

You two spoon or lay face to face

And sometimes one of you lays on top of the other

When you two are totally plastered, you are spooning, if it's in between, one of you two are laying on the other, if you're only tipsy you two are laying face to face and giggling half the night

As I've said before

THIS MAN LOVES YOU SO SO SO MUCH

You're his everything and he tells you that

The first time you two had sex, he was so sweet

It started out as just a simple night and he was braiding your hair and you two ended up kissing

Which led to sex

He was so soft with you

Asking you if everything was okay

Making sure to go slow at first

Kissing you everywhere

And he always made sure you weren't uncomfortable

And he wiped you down afterwards

And you two cuddled away again

In 2008, when bill lost his voice, he was so scared

But thank God you were there

You held him every second and kissed his tears away

When he couldn't talk for 2 weeks, you babied the fuck outta him

But not in a bad way

Just getting him food, and giving him bathes and stuff like that

Which he enjoyed bc he knows how much you care for him

And you were literally jumping for joy when you heard his voice again

In 2011 you and bill got married

It was so beautiful, there were flowers everywhere and everything was absolutely perfect

You were so lucky to be with bill and he was so lucky to have you. You two were the perfect match for eachother and Georg, Gustav and Tom were so happy to finally see you guys get married

They all had bets on when it would finally happen

As a husband, Bill is the absolute sweetest

I mean, as a boyfriend he was sweet too but oh my god

Husband bill is everything

He rubs your back, feet, shoulders, head, legs WHATEVER YOU WANT HE WILL DO

Showers with him are so fantastic too

Shower sex is even better 😏😘

MATCHING TATTOOS.

But besides that, he makes sure to get your soap all lathered up and make you squeaky clean

I REPEAT.

MATCHING TATTOOS.

They're so cute

Even if it's something stupid, he's so happy to get matching tattoos

He also got matching tattoos with you back in the 2000s but I forgot to say that

You two have movie nights all the time

Labyrinth, the princess bride, Bill and Ted's excellent adventure, the Neverending story.

yall love 80s and 90s American movies

you two celebrate the cutest anniversaries

First date obviously

Bro somehow remembers the exact day you two met 💀???

You two have a bunch of firsts and he loves to celebrate them

He's a romantic

A big romantic

Especially for his darling schazi

IF I DIDNT MENTION HE CALLS YOU ALL SORTS OF GERMAN TERMS OF ENDEARMENT

Schatz, schatzi, liebling, maus, etc.

He wants to grow old with you and be with you forever

He's never ever thought of being with someone else and never will

YALL IM SO SORRY BUT IM KIND OF TIRED RN, I WILL DO A NSFW VERSION THOUGH. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS 😭

#tokio hotel #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz smut #smut #fluff #bill kaulitz being sexy as hell #bill being the little flirty cutie pie he is #2007 bill kaulitz #2005 bill kaulitz #devilish #tokio hotel edits #tokio hotel fanfics #bill kaulitz edits

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crystaldesiree · 6 days

Note

(i wanna request if u dont mind!! Blade head canons being nonchalant and stoic towards his gf/reader everytime we say "ily" or any romantic stuff and everytime we get clingy or cuddly but lowkey he likes it deep down but he just doesnt show it)

but seriously tho i wanted to say DAYUMM ur first writing was so good. and also I REALLY REALLY LOVE THE SOULMATE!BLADE 🤭🤭 or ur first drabble!!! i like the way u write u should write more of him and maybe other characters too!

anyways thanks for already reading my texts!! have a nice day!!

pairing: blade x gn!reader a.n. ahhh, thank you sm! it honestly took me a day to write that and i was fairly surprised that people liked it! but im really glad you requested, i hope you like what i wrote!

blade always struggled with emotions. especially with memory fragments that burned like fire, shoved into the back of his mind and long forgotten. so, when it came to you, he wasn't as open to reciprocating every special moment. in fear that they too, would become memories that left him awake at night, struggling to breathe. he didn't know how to react or what to say when the words 'i love you' fell from your lips. so he chose to stay silent, his expression remaining neutral. but deep down, those words stirred something in him, a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time. he might give a brief nod or a fleeting smile, but he never let on how much they meant to him. when you got clingy or cuddly, blade maintained his apathetic facade, letting you snuggle up to him without protest. he appeared indifferent, but the truth was, he secretly enjoyed your warmth against his cool skin. the way you wrapped your arms around him, your body snug against his, brought him a sense of peace he couldn't find anywhere else. if you looked closely, you might catch a subtle softening in his eyes or a slight twitch at the corner of his lips. even when you reached up to plant a tender kiss on his lips, he found himself at a loss, unsure of how to respond. internally, he wrestled with the decision to either wrap his hands around your waist or let them remain motionless. your kisses, however, always sparked a fire within him, sending heat cascading through his veins and causing his hands to tremble like leaves caught in the wind. but, his affection appeared in small, almost unnoticeable ways. he'd adjust your blanket when you fell asleep next to him, make sure your accessories were always adjusted right, or stand silently by your side when you were upset. despite his collected attitude, he listened attentively whenever you talked about your day or shared your thoughts. his eyes reflecting a depth of understanding and a sincere effort to show just how much he valued your words. deep down, blade enjoyed the warmth and love you brought into his life. he might never openly admit it, but the comfort he found in your presence was something he cherished more than anything. on rare occasions, his facade would crack slightly. sometimes when you two are alone together, he might gently hold your hand or give you a soft kiss on the forehead, revealing a glimpse of the depth of how he really felt. he always tried to find a way to make you feel comfortable with him, without needing to express it verbally. there was an unspoken understanding between you two, even though he didn't often express his love verbally, you felt it in the way he stayed close, protected you, and allowed your affection without resistance.

#hsr blade #blade hsr #blade x reader #honkai star rail #blade x you #blade honkai #hsr x reader #blade x y/n #honkai star rail blade #hsr imagines #blade headcanons #hsr #hsr x you #blade x gender neutral reader #hsr headcanons

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bawbawbridgie · 2 months

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hey yall. thought id come on here and just translate what albus and scorpius say to each other/about each other in the script/show to normal people lingo! JUST MY OPINION

Albus: you’re a light in the darkness. (you’re MY light in the darkness)

Scorpius: Albus!!! Im fighting for Albus. (he makes me so happy and is the only person in my life that I love enough to get these stupid ass dementors off me)

Albus: Scorpius matters to me, you understand that right? (Literally my best friend that I may or may not have romantic feelings which I am yet to work out. I’m trying to get you to understand before I come out to you!)

Scorpius: I changed myself back for you. You might not of been there but you were fighting alongside me. (I thought about you everyday because I missed you so much and couldn’t stand not seeing you and being near you)

Scorpius: Still, if I had to choose a companion to be at the return of eternal darkness with, id choose you. (I don’t want to be with anyone else but you. Not just in this case, but in every other situation ever. I am also trying to work out if you actually do love me or that was just Delphi making shit up)

Albus: No offence, but id choose someone massive and really good at magic. (I am actually kidding id choose you but I refuse to admit my feelings for you so I will avoid it at all costs, even though Delphi literally just did it for me)

Ginny: you were confused, and now you’re finding wonderful clarity, which makes me very proud.(Your soulmate is literally right in front of you and I hope you can now see that)

Albus: and that’s who you want. In your palace? (Are you sure you really want Rose when I am literally right in front of you. Because I really want you even though I never admit my feelings yet here I am, admitting my feelings in a roundabout way. This is my way of saying the L word btw)

Scorpius: yes… isn’t it? (Wait. Is this you admitting your feelings or just being friendly? I don’t think I’m meant to feel this way about my best friend. But since you asked, I think a palace with you would be nice)

Scorpius: I didn’t know whether we should. In this new version of us. (I think we both secretly know we now have a different type of relationship. I want us to be ok with that and accept it. I like hugging you. Only you)

Albus: you do know right, that scorpius is the most important person in my life and might always be the most important? (This is me coming out. I really like my best friend more than you normally should and I’ve finally realised that and come to terms with it. I hope you can accept me and be ok with that.)

thank you for coming to my ted talk. comment any opinions you have, i would love to hear them xx

#they are in love your honour #forever obsessed with them #i am actually insane if you haven’t realised that yet #cursed child #hpcc #albus x scorpius #albus severus potter #scorpius malfoy #scorbus #harry potter and the cursed child #harry potter #albus potter x scorpius malfoy

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xxventiswindblumexx · 1 year

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Gift for my lovely smut soulmate @hitomisuzuya 🤭

Fatui!Scaramouche x Obsessive Fem reader

⚠Warnings⚠:Aphrodisiac usage, scaramouche being himself, degradion, yandere themes, dub-con

Scaramouche the 6th Fatui harbinger was a feared man, many horror stories circulated around what he's done and most would stay clear of him, normal people would but that's not you.

You know the risk of approaching him, approaching what's essentially an archon.

Who are you to even think of such activities? You're not much, an adventurer that's found their greatest adventure, the thrilling and exciting attempt to track down this Fatui Harbinger for yourself.

You don't even know what you'll say when you do get to him, that is if you're not killed instantly. Your fascination for this man started when you seen him once when traveling, you heard of him but couldn't believe how incredibly beautiful he was, his voice was even better. However at the time you where not asking for a death wish and made sure he didn't see you as he left with his agents. After planning for a few months you've successfully tracked down where he is and will be, it wasn't easy as he's a very secretive man. You packed what you'll need and headed out, Archons help you from being one shotted the moment he sees you.

After about of week of traveling you could see in the distance a camp in the forest, you stalk closer to see and the agents are a clear sign that a Fatui Harbinger was here, you just had to see which because running into Childe wasn't on your list of to-dos.

After a moment you seen him, Scaramouche. Your heart pounded once more, your body heating up in all the right places, it was like the first time again. He was speaking to some agents, about what you don't know, you could barely hear from the sound of your heart almost beating out of your chest. .. or maybe it was the adrenaline. Whatever it was the only thing you know is that you were going to talk to him, you'll take any chance to get a word in with him, even if it meant you have to get hurt... or die.

You waited for some of the agents to disburse, luckily for you he didn't like have others with him in that rather large tent he had set up for himself. Soon enough the agents slipped up, speaking to each other leaving you some space, a chance to dart to the tent without disturbance. That was what you did.

He turned rather quickly, his hands up ready to defend himself, it seems not many just dart in and he was ready to fight. However noticing you didn't have a weapon on you he didn't attack right away

"Who are you and why are you here? Speak now" he hissed with a harsh glare, you stood in shock in the fact that for one, you actually made it, you're here and two you're not dead yet.

"I-Im Y/N and... " you trailed off some, where you just going to say why you really came here, to fuck his brains out? Really? You didn't really think a lot, seeming your hormones speaking for you before logic.

He watched your body language carefully as he noticed you where far from a threat but still, kept his defense up.

"Don't tell me you came without reason, or maybe you're backing out now that you've gotten to see me? " He said with a snarky attitude, no, you couldn't back down now.

"No! I-Im not backing down, I came to.. " Speaking on your business wasn't going to happen, you was simply too nervous however you noticed with his cocky attitude he slipped on his defense, you took this chance to act, now or never right?

Your hands grabbing his face as your lips connect to his rather fast and harsh, his skin was cold to the touch. Of course he was taken back by this sudden move, sure he figured you would act but not like this, his hands grabbing yours and pushing you off. His breath seemed to have increased, his face blushing a deep pink as well as a bit of saliva on the corner of his mouth.

"What do you think you're doing!? " He was beyond flustered yet it seemed he didn't totally hate it. You couldn't respond with words, at least not easily only taking a step closer, he backed up into a table with papers on it.

"H-Hey! Wait a minute-" your lips once more connecting his as your body pressed against him, you've gotten too far to back down, however if he really didn't want you there you wouldn't be standing still so at least he didn't seem to hate it. This time he didn't push you off right away, kissing back but harsher as he flipped the two of you, your back hitting the wooden table as papers of plans went flying. His hands holding yours down, pinning them as he broke the kiss looking down at you, lust in his eyes.

"You're just some glorified pervert aren't you? Have you been following me, waiting to pounce like the bitch in heat you are" He hissed as he leaned down to you, his hand grabbing your throat "If we are doing anything here I'll be the one in control got it? " he spoke, his breath tickling your neck, all you could do was nod, earning a chuckle from him. His hands let go off you as they went to grab something, soon enough he put something in your mouth and pushed you over onto your back, a gasp escaped your mouth at the impact, he placed his knee in your lower region. A growl leaving his lips. He was enjoying this way too much to be honest.

"Now listen here slut and listen good, I'm not here to play games and I have all I need to make your life a living hell. Do you understand me?" He asked harshly as he used some rope to bind your wrists together before searching your pockets to make sure you truely didn't have anything to harm him with, only for him to pull out a small vile a glowing pink liquid "Aphrodisiacs? Really? " how did he know what it was? Either way you felt embarrassed for getting you even had it. Once your pockets was emptied and deemed not a threat he chuckled a little "You're quite pathetic arent you? How many did you think you where going to get me to consume this? " you were speechless now and he smirked as he pulled your hair to make sure you could see him "Soon you'll see what kind of authority youre challenging you whore" he spat the last word before he completely shredded your clothing, he had a lot more strength then expected for someone of his size, as you tried to cover yourself which was useless with your hands bound, he grabbed your wrists "Come on let's have some fun " his smirk growing, a low rumble left him "Just you wait I won't be gentle"

Your stomach and front side pressed against the rough wooden surface as your back end now out for him to see "Already so wet and ready for me, you really are a whore" he thrusts two slender fingers into your core harshly "I'm only making room for myself so don't get used it bitch" He said harshly as he added a third, not giving you time to really adjust, it was then when he seen a bit of blood he laughed "Oh Archons am I your first? Really you wanted me to be it? At least your have good tastes" pulling his fingers from you, licking the blood mixed with your juices off, his eyes glaring down at you. You could see how much he wanted to dominate you, to fuck you until you begged for mercy. He remembered something as he grabbed vile you had brought with you and took the top off before looking at you with a smirk "This should keep us busy for a while don't you think? I can already tell you're not ready for what you got yourself into" He flipped you onto your back before pushing the vile to your lips, almost forcing you to drink the aphrodisiac. Once done he discarded it to the side as his hands wondered your body, it didn't take long before the effects started to work on you, your body heating up more then ever as your breathing picked up its pace. You however had a small devious idea, an idea that can get you possibly killed but you held a bit of the liquid in your mouth, hidden so when he came in for a harsh you managed to push it into his mouth causing him to swallow it out of surprise, pulling back quickly to wipe his mouth with his sleeve. You could see the anger in his eyes before they softened, he laughed "Oh you dirty little bitch!"

Only a small smirk adorned on your face, now playing his little game, he pushed onto your stomach once more harshly as he he chuckled lowly "You know I thought about going slow at first, sure not for long but giving you some time to adjust.. " you felt his tip press against your core teasingly, you moaned out "But for that.. I'm going to go as harsh as I want to, to use your whore body for myself as my little toy" he said as he slammed himself in fully, bottoming out. You yelped and groaned in slight pain however the aphrodisiac helped numb it into pleasure . Your nails digging into the rope, you closed your eyes.

And he began to pound into you with full force, every stroke feeling as though you'd be ripped apart. Each one bringing you further to your climax, your eyes clenched tightly as he pounded deeper than you've ever felt, it' almost as if his entire being wanted to hurt you, as if he craved to be inside you as he continued to slam into you hard, the sound of a few men outside yelling as they thought he was being attacked only for him to snap at them before they could come in "Take one step in this tent and you'll all see your maker! " They didn't need to be told twice backing away leaving the two of you alone.

His hands gripping your hips as his nails dug into your skin leaving marks, you could feel small shocks of his electro through his finger tips adding more pleasure. His hips moving faster as you cried out, your voice coming out as whimpers, tears pricking you as he pumped in and out of you, each thrust sending chills through you. As he slowed down after a couple minutes and stopped slamming into you, both of your bodies shaking, sweat dripping down your faces.

"S-Scara-" A particularly hard thrusts cut you short of speaking as he growled "Don't fucking call me that like were friends, call me master" he hissed at you as he kept thrusting "I could fucking kill you bitch! Watch your damn words" Another heavy thrust made you moan and babble incoherently against the table

"I.. I didn't mean t..to.. ah... ah.. " you couldn't finish your sentence as he kept pounding into you, you were panting heavily as you tried to catch your breath, your head turning some to look at him, his eyes were filled with lust and anger, his teeth gritted as he continued to pound into you.

You could feel him twitch in you, he was close so close<br />

"Call me master! " he demanded, no ordered you. You whimpered slightly as he gave another violent thrust causing you to scream out loudly as it came "Nnnngghhhh! Master!!!" he slammed into you again as you screamed. both yours and his body trembling and sweating heavily as he released into you, still thrusting but not near as hard, pushing his seed further into you, some dripping down your leg.

Once it passed you where panting as you laid down staring at the ceiling unable to move or speak, your vision blurring as sleep consumed you.

The first thing you saw was Scaramouche putting something onto your neck, it felt like leather, and hearing a few words he spoke ".. my pet... "

#fatui scaramouche #scaramouche smut #genshin scaramouche

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noowayybroo · 4 months

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I saw you wanted to write something about this and ykw I’d love to see it!! Could you write some headcanons (or whatever your comfy w) abt calling leon/showing up late at his house after you got into a bad fight w ur abusive bf? Im thinking mainly he comforts you nd then deals w the bf later

TY FOR UR ASK AND IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG!! ok sooooo it's not like a full fic but it's a teeny bit more than a hc. I won't focus sm on the bf because I think it's a traumatic thing you know and people who might use this to cope might find it harder to relate or they might just be reminded of their issues so I'll keep it quite vague if it's ok with you. This is very vague so I think it's any Leon in mind! Enjoy!

Characters: GN!BestFriend!Leon x GN!Reader (Mentions of Reader's abusive partner)

Warnings: SFW BUT NOT A HAPPY FIC - Hurt / comfort. Mentions of abusive and just overall shitty partners. Mentions of Crying. One mention of being drunk. Mentions of abuse and victim self-blaming (the relationship really messed you up, sorry) Use of Y/N

Another horrible date ends with you storming out of what's meant to be your favourite restaurant, blaming yourself for everything you'll never be responsible for.

Your partner has a way of doing that: making you think it's you who's in the wrong, regardless of the fact that they were the one who was late and they were the one who wouldn't get off their phone and pay you back the attention you give them every day.

Again you'd been let down, and you stumble home in the rain, alone, because your excuse of a partner was staying behind to finish their meal. Your clothes are as drenched as your soul, heavy rain just about heard over pitiful sobs. You're in a world of your own, narrowly avoiding a trip or fall with each step, eyes too squinted to see more than a blur.

You're crying so hard you almost don't hear your phone buzz in your pocket.

It'll be that bastard, you think to yourself as rage seeps into your bubble of despair. What could they want now?

You've half the mind to ignore it. They're not used to you not answering instantly. They know they have you wrapped around their finger. Maybe they'll think something happened to you. And it'll be their fault.

Great.

..But then again, you don't really want that, do you? You're a good person. They've wormed their way into your head so well that you begin to feel guilty. You have to at least check... Maybe they're sorry-

Begrudgingly, almost ready to snap the phone in two the second you see that dreaded name, you pull it out to check. You're so numb you barely mind how the rain soaks the expensive screen in mere seconds. All you can bother to do is haphazardly wipe the screen across your clothing once before swiping your notifications down.

Between the gathering droplets, the message is, of course, not from your dickhead "soulmate" because really, they don't care about you. It's from Leon, your friend. And for a second, a smile almost comes to your lips. You slow down your pace and read the message, not noticing how your tears are already much less frequent. Leon's always been a sweetie. He's always there for you, and when he says he's got your back, oh boy do you believe it.

Leon never asks anything from you, he just loves you unconditionally... and you're sure it's just as platonic as you'd like it to be. He knows you care about him too, and he'd never give you any less than you give him. It must have been some kind of divine intervention that called upon him to message you now during one of your lowest moments. Or-

PLEASE don't tell me that was YOU crying outside just now.

Your jaw falls open in shock and your feet come to a still. You'd been steaming ahead on pure misery. You were on Leon's street already? Looking around confirms your suspicions as you wipe your screen again, shakily replying as tears continue to stain your cheeks. But before you can hit send, another message comes in:

THAT IS YOU OMG. Why the yelling?! Drunk again??

Just as you can finish typing out "Yeh, it was me, I'm going homes sorryyy", Leon comes bounding after you in the rain. He slows down as he gets to you, circling around to get a look at your face before draping his coat over your shoulders. He's smiling initially, glad to see you, but when his eyes meet your red, puffy ones, his face falls. His shoes are loose. One of his heels not even properly inside. He's wet from the rain, not even wearing a coat for himself. That's how quickly he left for you.

"Y-y/n..." His voice is small, dreading as he gently holds your shoulders, ducking to look into your downturned eyes "What happened?" Before you can even answer, his arms are around you, redirecting you towards his house and out of the rain. He practically pulls you along, trying to get you to shelter like a lifeguard escorting someone from the depths. You have no time to tell him anything before he's yanking you into his home.

Despite how wet and filthy you are from the hammering rain and muddy puddles, Leon barely lets you take any outside gear off. He leads you to his living-room - the sight both familiar and warming. You'd both shared many good memories here even though you hadn't been round many times. If Leon knew anything, it was how to take care of you and make you laugh. And that's why, no questions asked, he's covering you in blankets, holding you close and cooing gently about how you don't have to tell him what happened but that-

"If you want to tell me anything, I don't care what it is or how much there is, I'll listen."

After a while, you're able to come down from your panic. You're able to open up and tell Leon what happened this time. You can practically see his fists ball as he grips the blanket, pretending to only do so to pick it up and wrap it more tightly around you. He avoids eye contact. At times, it feels as though the news of your neglect affects Leon much worse than it does you.

He swallows thickly as you continue, and only when your voice cracks a little and you become teary once more does his gaze snap to you. He places a gentle hand on your cheek and once more ducks his head so he can be the one looking up at you. He respects the reason for your shy and defeated posture, not wanting to look up at him. He wouldn't have you go out of your way just to suit him. He's practically cuddled up to you, hands gently kneading you wherever it comforts you most through your blanket prison.

His eyes scream empathy and sorrow for your situation. The grimace of a scowl on his face tells you he's thinking about something, but you're not sure what. Maybe he's had a bad day. Maybe you're burdening him.

Here comes the guilt train again.

Your words falter and then you shake your head, sighing sadly. At least your tears are dry now.

"It's really nothing" You tell him, capping off a list of about a month's abuse and neglect since you'd last seen Leon. He shakes his head, almost offended.

"It's not nothing, Y/N, it's everything." His voice switches from a growl to a whisper after he catches himself on the first few words. He goes back to gently holding and petting you, sighing as he thinks very carefully about his next words. "You're a wonderful person. You're a good friend. I know you're the perfect soulmate too..." his face goes a little red. It seems he didn't think carefully enough about those words. "That sounded a little weird but what I mean is you can do better. Much better."

'Nails on a chalkboard' couldn't even come close to describing how Leon felt whenever you'd speak about how your partner treated you. For months now, it felt like within a few words, just describing your morning or text chat with the prick sent Leon to his own circle of hell.

It was tormentuous. Of course, it wasn't you. It could never be you. You were Leon's best friend. Hearing you open up to him was bitter sweet. He was grateful you were able to, but seeing you being weighed down and trodden over like this, it hurt him. You needed to leave that person, and so, Leon needed you to leave them.

He'd never told you really how he'd felt about that particular detail. He never wanted to be the bad guy, or to tell you what to do, in case it might draw you closer to your partner. Today, though, he couldn't take it any more. He wouldn't watch you suffer. Leon was going to do something about it, even if you didn't. Heck, he'd do it, even if you did first.

"You give this person everything. All your time, all your love, and I don't mean to rub it in at all, but to be honest... I want you to leave them. For yourself. You're strong and you might not need it, which is why you keep letting them do this, but you deserve someone who cares about you. Who wants you." He's looking into your eyes again, pleading for you to understand. He's begging you to just listen, just this once. Otherwise, you both know he'd let you walk all over him.

Truth be told, it didn't actually surprise you that Leon wanted you to leave your partner. You'd be lying if you'd said the realisation didn't gnaw away at you each time you looked into those eyes of his. You wanted to make Leon happy, and, contrary to his fears, you knew he was right. You'd take his side over any of your partners in a heartbeat, probably. You wanted to leave your partner, especially now those sobering words of Leon's had hit you. It was a rallying cry to stand up for yourself, and you so badly wanted to do it, but...

"It's hard." You whimper, shying away, hiding your face from Leon. Unlike your partner, he doesn't become enraged at your refusal, he doesn't lean in to catch your gaze or force you to look at him. He just stays quit for a bit before gently hushing you.

"I know, I know" He hums, barely audible - his words are so soft and quiet, fanning you. "I know it's hard." There's heavy truth to his words. Leon has always understood you, and he's been through so much, you know you're preaching to a harrowed choir.

"We've been together for months... I've never had anyone like that before. I can't just..."

"It's okay to be alone, you know?" Leon asks softly "I know that might be worrying you too... Not finding someone? But I promise you... I'll never lie about how lovely you are. Hell if you just turned around you'd see a line of people waitin'." There's a desperate tone to his voice. He needs you to believe him. But it also kinda sounds like there IS a line of people swarming his home. It makes you giggle, and that makes him chuckle.

"You know I'm being honest, right? I mean I might even-" He cuts himself off quickly and looks away. There's a small silence before he looks back at you, gently wiping calloused thumbs over your cheeks, brushing away any remaining moisture. Then, he sighs deeply "Listen, I know it's hard, but you're better off alone than with... with them, alright?"

It's hard to accept defeat but you nod weakly. You sit there together in silence for a while. Mulling everything over. Leon's right. You have to get out of there. And then it hits you. What if your partner doesn't just... let you go...

"But what if they-"

"I won't let them." his voice is firm, knowing exactly what you were going to say. He seems to have been thinking the exact same thing, and looking over, you notice he has that thinking look again, fists gripping your sides gently, protectively. "I promise I won't let anything happen to you, okay? We get you out, and we get you out in one piece." He looks into your eyes, this time, determined. His stare captures yours. You can't look away. You know what he's silently demanding, and you can't bring yourself to say no.

Weakly, you nod. "I want... I don't want to be with them anymore."

Leon lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and then seems to have a sort of 'eureka moment', but decides not to celebrate just yet. "That's great, Y/N. I'm... I'm happy for you." He gently rubs your shoulders a few times before getting up "How about I get takeout, yeah? This causes for celebration" He shoots you a playful smirk as he rushes to the kitchen to retrieve about 5 different menus which he then throws to you.

By the time you've escaped the four blankets he coated you with and decided what you'd like, he's got his shoes on and is ready to go. You get to your feet but are knocked back by a disarmingly playful glare. He chuckles as you fall back into the couch, defeated. "You're not going anywhere, buddy. I'm gonna get you some food, and when I get back, we'll sort things out. Okay? Just trust me, please." His look is soft. You feel completely cared for. And so, accepting his offer, you allow Leon to go on his way.

A while passes as you scroll through the shows on Leon's TV, all boring you. You'd rather be bored, though, than reading whatever abusive messages your soon to be ex had been piling up for you. You're exhausted. Curling up on the couch, you wait for Leon to get back. You feel so comfortable, and so soothed, and it's all thanks to him.

Leon was fortunate to find you asleep by the time he got back to his house. It gave him time to get changed into something more comfortable. It gave him time to clean his knuckles, and to remove any unsavoury messages that had accumulated on your phone (best friend password perks.) And by the time you woke up to the smell of your favourite food, it was still warm. He'd already plated it up for you, and you enjoyed it with your favourite choice of film. (Leon would NOT have it any other way.)

For a while, Leon's magic had drawn you from your problems, and it was only when you were drifting off for the second time that night that you even thought to check your phone. You were ready to do it. You were ready to leave that relationship behind. There was only one unread message, not a barrage of abuse, as you'd imagined.

Y/N. I understand that I've treated you poorly and for that I'm very sorry. You never deserved any of it. I hope you can forgive me, and I know you want out, so I think it's best for us both if we went our separate ways. I'll drop your things off at your mate's house tomorrow. I won't message you again.

That was strange, but it was welcome. And unbeknownst to you, you weren't the only one having the most peaceful sleep in a long time that night. Leon slept better than he'd done in months, maybe even years, and your ex, well. Your ex slept.

Thank you for reading this uhm it's kinda sussy we have no idea what happened to the ex ooo spookyyy!! imo Leon just beat them up haha Idk. Again I'm sorry this took so long! It was actually much more emotional and special for me to write haha so I hope someone out there likes it. Especially you, anon, if you're still around! Thank you! Thank you all for being here I love you all like crazy. If Leon teaches you anything here I hope it's that you're valid and important and that you matter, and not just to me!! To loads of people! Please believe in yourself and chase your dreams! Try and make time for your hobbies and aspirations! We're here to have fun and to live our lives!! Take some time out for yourself please, and remember you deserve love and respect and if people don't give it to you (when youve done nothing wrong) then maybe those people are smelly, and maybe you should surround yourself with a more positively fragrant variety of human. Love you!!!

#resident evil #re leon #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #re4 leon #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil leon #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #hurt/comfort #comfort #resident evil 6 #re4r #resident evil remake

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