#neil x gn!reader

[dead3ve]

Neil Perry x shy!gn!reader

Summary: After his success in A Midsummer Night's Dream, Neil needs to prove he's worthy of other lead roles. It's hard to do this when there is an unhelpful, pretty distraction trying to help him with his audition material.

Warnings: Reader pronouns they/them. no use of y/n. Reader referred to as pretty, partner. Kissing!! no smut.

Neil Perry was gorgeous.

He was in his element and speaking words seemingly straight from his heart, not from memory. The look in his eye was both passionate and depicting the emotion of the scene, desperation. Suddenly he lost the shimmer in his eye and looked blank, mouth bending into a small frown. Neil still stood handsomely, with his sharp bone structure and confident stature, despite this.

"Line?" Neil asked quietly, as if he was trying not to break the scene and trying not to be impatient about it. "Honey?" He called for his partner's endearingly, almost concerned that they were not responding. Neil turned to look at them, shoulders going lax as he took some steps towards them.

His turn to them made them jump and fumble with the script to find his line. They muttered a meek "sorry" and continued turning the pages of the script, trying to find where they were meant to be up to.

As the pages brushed against each other, Neil dragged a chair over to theirs so he could sit closer to the page turner. He gently put his hand over his partner's, stopping them from flipping the pages of the script. This made them stop moving completely.

They looked up at Neil with wide apologetic eyes, "I'm sorry." They spoke with a guilty smile, sighing the words under Neil's loving gaze, growing flustered.

"It's ok." He spoke into their hairline, lips tickling their skin. They could feel his smile and they were definitely forgiven.

He began pressing kisses down their hairline to the side of their face. It was making them giggle. The giddy feeling paired with the affection was making them grow red in the face. Eventually, Neil's lips pushed against the corner of their mouth, just catching their lips in the kiss. This made them turn their body towards Neil's on the desk chair they were sat at. They prepared for a kiss on the lips, knowing full well they were not going to initiate it, but wait for Neil to bring his face to theirs.

Neil knew this too. They'd done it many times before. He decided to tease though. He just simply sat and smiled at them. Admired the innocence of their expression and the heat of their cheeks. He put a hand onto the thigh that they had crossed impatiently. Neil gave a gentle squeeze and a smile. His partner folded their arms at that and looked away. No matter how shy they were, stubbornness prevailed, despite the potential loss of needed affection.

This made Neil laugh. He wrapped a hand around their waist and pulled them and their chair closer to himself. Once moved, one of his hands around their waist grazed lightly up their body and eventually cupped the side of their face, gently moving it to face his. The first thing they saw was Neil's charming grin and brown eyes.

"Have you got the line?" He teased, releasing small giggles and raising a brow as he spoke.

Their partner rolled their eyes but nuzzled into Neil's warm hand and relaxed into his grip on their waist. Neil gave a cheeky squeeze at the fat of their hip in response.

"You're not going to get any loving at this rate, pretty." Neil spoke in a whisper as he pressed his nose into theirs. He was contradicting his words.

They leaned into him, on the edge of their seat.

Their hands unfolded and found their place at Neil's shirt collar. An anchor for them when they were this close. Their thumbs methodically grazed against the tough fabric of the collar. Their knees were next to his, like four comfortable friends.

With half lidded eyes, they muttered "It's hard to keep up when all I want to do is look at you, Neil."

At that, the boy's hand that was cupping their jaw pulled their face towards his own. His lips found theirs. He ensured they could feel the love he had for them. He assumed it was translated because his partner's body slid further into his and a small sigh was heard from their lips in between the lip lock.

One of their hands left his collar and moved to the back of Neil's neck. Not far, but far enough to show the boy that they were comfortable as they had started fiddling with the short brown hair there. Neil pulled back at that. He smiled down at his partner with awe. He put his head into their shoulder, pressing kisses into their clothes. When their hand suddenly stopped, due to the surprise of the loving movement, he lifted his head to kiss them again, but before he did, he whispered onto their lips "keep doing that, pretty."

Their second hand left his collar and joined the other in his hair. Neil released an airy groan, like he was being lightly tickled. He went back in for another kiss. A needier one. Both of his hands left their face and hip to find warmth under their thighs. He was gently pulling them towards him, encouraging movement from their seat to his lap.

It worked.

With his hands helping, they moved to his lap. The kiss somehow continued as his partner moved into their new seat. Their hands ended up cupping his face and his ended up travelling from their waist to their thighs.

It was just the two of them in the study hall room, as it was only 2:00 pm. His partner liked it this way. It was when they were most confident. When they were safe with him, in his embrace, without other daunting gazes.

A few minutes later, Richard Cameron walked into study hall that afternoon. Neil fears he'll never recover from the two seconds of kissing he witnessed.

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Charlie Dalton, Neil Perry and Todd Anderson Taking Care of Their Sick S/O

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): Charlie Dalton x sick!gn!reader (romantic), Neil Perry x sick!gn!reader , Todd Anderson x sick!gn!reader (romantic)

Warnings: The reader has a cold so... yeah. Also, since I'm sick myself, my brain isn't really working at it's normal level so apologies for any mistakes! (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: Unfortunately I'm still sick (it's only been a few days). Fortunately, I'm still motivated to write headcanons to get me through this relatively mild illness (and I'm starting to feel better)! I've got a Todd one-shot draft that I started a year ago and never got around to finishing, so here's my first offering to the Dead Poets Society fandom. I'd love to write more for it, both reader-insert and not. I'm not sure if I'll end up writing any more sick fics (I've already written hcs for Yellowjackets and Abed Nadir and Annie Edison from Community) since I should be better soon, but if you're still interested check out my fandom list and requesting info and feel free to send an ask!)

CHARLIE

Charlie will jokingly tell you that you’re disgusting.

If you’re not amused by that, he’ll awkwardly but sincerely apologise, his mortification thinly veiled.

He isn’t entirely sure what the hell to do to make you less sick.

(He'll have to consult his more medically knowledgeable friends for advice)

He will ask you if you want him to kiss it all better.

(And he will not hesitate to kiss you when you give him the go ahead)

Suffice it to say, he does not care all that much about getting sick himself.

(A small part of him hopes that he does get sick so you'll have to take care of him)

He will spend so much time with you, you’d think you were dying.

He will also get you anything you ask for (even if it has no clear use in making you physically better- he just wants to make you happy).

If his earlier attempt at joking doesn't work, he'll still persist in cracking jokes and making you laugh to make you feel better.

(If your laughter causes you to break out into a coughing fit, though, he will feel awful).

NEIL

Neil knows exactly what to do.

He may not like his dad's dream of him becoming a doctor, but damn he has such a knack for looking after you.

He makes sure you’re drinking enough fluids and taking any medicine you need to take.

No matter how disgusting you might get, Neil is completely unfazed the whole time.

If anything, he'll find it funny and try to keep you in as high spirits as possible.

If he does mind getting sick, he certainly doesn't show it.

For example, he doesn't hesitate when kissing you on the cheek or forehead.

He loves you so much that it really won’t matter to him if you can- or do- get him sick.

He’ll regularly ask you if there’s anything that you want or need, and if you’re comfortable, and if you’re too hot or cold.

It’s evident that he cares about you getting better.

He’ll sit at your bedside and try to take your mind off of how you’re feeling.

But, he will insist that you need to rest up, so when you’re asleep or trying to fall asleep he’ll be as quiet as humanly possible to make sure he doesn’t wake you up.

If he does end up waking you, he’ll feel terrible about it.

He’s so loving and caring anyway, but especially when you’re sick.

TODD

This guy is fucking terrified.

He assumes that anything he does will only make you sicker.

A small part of him is convinced you will die under his care.

So, he begs Neil for advice, and Neil humours him so that Todd doesn’t drive himself nuts.

Todd will regularly ask you if you need something, and he’ll repeatedly offer you whatever Neil advised him about.

He’s also completely torn between his innate desire not to get himself sick, and his deep love and affection for you.

So, please don’t get upset with him if he recoils almost every time you cough and sneeze, because he does spend as much time as he possibly can at your bedside.

Speaking of which, Todd sits at your bedside like a loyal golden retriever.

He’ll hold your hand (internally panicking about your high temperature, of course) and place the occasional kiss on the back of it.

He’ll also read some of his poems, works in progress and completed, out to you, and he’ll make sure to pick plenty that are about you specifically.

Sure, he’s nervous, but you love his poetry and all he wants to do is reduce how terrible you feel.

[novthewolf]

Two’s company, three’s a family - Part seven

Summary : As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn’t get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them up, oblivious to the reason…

Pairing : Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

Warnings : long, too long (someone stop me), animal corpse, implied child death, crucifixion, depiction of h0rnisness, mention of s3x, s3xual undertone, alcool, violence, blood, use of french, angst, nazis, anxiety panic, slow burn, english isn’t my first language.

Words : +19,3k (seriously, stop me)

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Love ? Have you ever really felt Love ?

3004 B.C., Mesopotamia

It might be a strange thing to say, but right now you are actually learning how to walk. Oh, you knew the basics, but you never tried to practice on real soil. It felt weird on your feet, gritty and dry; it kept scratching the skin. A mix of tickles and quite pleasant itches. The reason you decided to come down was not to experiment with new sensations but to actually see why you had to bind specific animals together.

You would have asked the other cupids assigned to the mission if they knew anything, but only the principalities were aware of the actual goal. So, as curiosity overtook you, you made your way to the open land once you reached the limits of the forest. You were taken aback by the seemingly huge boat sitting on the hilltop. There were a lot of people, nicely looking at the strange scene behind some wooden fences.

Your eyes followed the multiple coupled animals, and you smiled, recognising the ones you created. Apparently, humans were leading them to that structure, leaving you more confused than ever. Slowly, you ambled to join the crowd and catch glimpses of conversation to try and understand what was actually going on. You ended up resting your arms on the wood and lifting your feet off the ground to relieve the pressure. When you jumped on your other foot, you bumped your right elbow against someone else's left side.

"Ah, sorry! I didn't see you here." You hurried, turning around to meet the unfortunate human.

"Oh, it's really nothing." The person was reassured. You gulped when you recognised him. It was the guardian angel of the Eastern Gate who stopped you from reaching said gate in the Garden of Eden. "Did you hurt your foot? My, you certainly will without any shoes on." He rambled in a worried tone. You started to worry as well. Did you just permanently damage your ride? By ride, you meant your physical body.

"No, no! I'm fine." You backed out slightly when he reached down for your leg. "I'm an angel too. My feet aren't hurt, I hope, and I never heard of... shoes? Anyway, please don't mind me." You dismissed me, looking for a way out.

He didn't seem surprised that you were an angel too. But your shattered heart missed a beat. You didn't mean to confess that. Does he remember your status? If he is aware, is he informed enough about your kind? No walking on earth, no feelings, no meddling in other angels' business. But instead of accusing you of not obeying your superior, he just nodded and actually miracled you some'shoes'. It was a really sweet gesture; you didn't know how to react. You simply muttered a small and bashful thank you and watched him kneel down in front of you.

You squinted your eyes, distruting the gentle way he took your scratched foot and helped you slide it inside the unfamiliar fabric. Once you were equipped, you trampled on the soil, laughing incredulously. It didn't hurt anymore !

"Thank you !" You exclaimed, giddy. And you were grateful to find that your overexcitement didn't faze him; he smiled brightly and joined his hands.

"Oh, there is no problem at all !" He laughed in a breath. Seeing that he seemed open-minded, you yearned to ask him the questions that burned your lips. However, someone interrupted you.

"Hello Aziraphale." A demon greeted him, his yellow snake eyes fixed on the guardian angel's face. He took place on Aziraphale's right side. You audibly gasped out of fear and embarrassment. Those two were the ones you linked back in the garden ! Plus, having a demon so close was still overwhelming.

"Crawley..." Aziraphale smiled nervously, his eyes going back and forth between you and the demon. That was when the redhead spotted you and tilted his head to the side to see you better.

"Hello there." He grinned with all his teeth. Intimitated, you simply hummed as a hello. Crawley then turned to Aziraphale. "So giving the mortals a flaming sword, how did that work out for you ?" He teased.

"You gave your sword away ?" You blurred out.

The angel huffed, flustered, and took some time to figure out what to say next. "There were really dangerous creatures out of the garden; they needed some protection." He rambled your way, then turned to the demon. "And the Almighty has never actually mentioned it again."

Crawley shrugged. "Probably a good thing... What's all this about ?" He gestured at the whole commotion. You nodded in agreement.

"Did they have a sudden urge to build a floating zoo ? Is it a common occurrence for humans ?" You wondered, truly curious.

"Well, they do have particular little quirks, but I never saw it come to that extent." The demon trailed, not meeting your eyes.

"From what I hear, God's a bit techy. Wiping out the human race. Big storm." Aziraphale gestured, and you smelled moonflower and moss, which you learned to recognise as sadness, even if he didn't show it. While Crawley's scent made you crunch your nose, you turned to him and watched his expression swing from outrage to disbelief.

"All of them ?"

"Just the locals." He nodded with tight lips. "I don't believe the Almighty's upset with the Chinese. Or the Native Americans. Or the Australians."

"What about the animals ?" You asked deeply, worried as you grasped his white sleeve. There was limited contact between you and animals, but every time you spent time with them, you felt a strong pull towards them, and you couldn't help but coo and coddle them.

"Oh no, God's not actually going to wipe out every creature." He flinched at your touch and was slowly pulling away. Despite your need for reassurance, you knew none of your fellow angels liked to touch you, so you let go. You felt the demon's eyes on you.

"You see Noah up there ?" He pointed towards the hill, and both of you looked up. "His family, his sons, their wives, and every couple of animals they brought in, they're all going to be fine."

"But they are drowning everybody else." He sneered, truly peeved. Aziraphale couldn't even answer and rather preferred to nod in agreement with sealed lips. Goats bleated in the background, catching your attention, and you turned around. Kids came running along them, blissfully playing and laughing. You shuddered.

"Not the kids. You can't kill kids." Crawley argued. He felt more disgusted by it than he showed, and you tilted your head to get a better look at him. You didn't expect him to care. Aziraphale hummed, darting his eyes away. Your heart sank, and you gulped.

"Well, that's more the kind of thing you'd expect my lot to do."

Yeah, so why isn't that the case?

As if he sensed your doubt, the angel spoke up again. "Yes, but when it's done, the Almighty's going to put up a new thing called a 'rain bow'" He offered with a smile, but all he could muster was a brow raise. "As a promise not to drown everyone again."

You couldn't help but let out a mix of scoff and a grunt. Crawley shared your distaste for the whole idea and mocked it. "How kind."

"You can't judge the Almighty, Crawley. And mh..." He stopped and turned to you inquisitively. He wanted to know your name. The last time you heard out loud was when... You wanted to slap yourself. Come on, you couldn’t be afraid of your own name, now can you ?

"Y/N." You smiled; you were actually happy to introduce yourself. Aziraphale was very nice, and even if he didn't know who you were or what you were, he was treating you with kindness and respect. You weren't sure if you were happy to know that a demon had learned your name. Oh god, what if he told him ?

"Don't fret; I'm sure God got all of this figured out. God's plans are simply:

"Are you going to say 'ineffable'"? Aw, they end each other's sentences. You almost forgot they were bonded. You smiled at the thought before remembering that you were the cause of it and how forbidden it was. You looked slightly red as you rubbed the back of your neck.

And when you thought you couldn't be more flustered, you felt Crawley skip behind you, brush his body against yours, and settle by your side. You were now as red as whatever was the reddest on Earth, and you completely froze up too. He then proceeded to burst your ears by yelling.

"Oi, Shem ! That's unicorn's going to make a run for it." A unicorn was indeed running away from the gathering towards the forest, and you were deeply alert, as you were the one responsible for its bounds. "Oh, it's too late. It's too late !" Crawley howled again.

Tired of his loud voice, you decided to leave and run after the poor creature. "Thank you for everything! Mmh.." You rushed before turning around, not sure how to respond in a non-monotone voice. "Bye bye! Smooches !" Smooches ? Really ?

You heard the angel echoe "smooches ?" as you sprinted away. Even with shoes on, you had terrible coordination and fell a few times before entering the forest, while seemingly hallucinating hearing Aziraphale's voice call you in the distance. Despite trying your best to catch the unicorn in time, you couldn't reach it in time. Instead, rain caught up to you, and you also had to discover how to swim. It wasn't as much fun.

Thankfully, you were able to fly away and find shelter in a cave, cold gnawing at your fingers and feet. And in that moment, you were the loneliest you have ever been. You hugged your knees and stared at your dreadful-looking arm, but you couldn't help but hope the unicorn was safe on the ark.

The minute the level of the water lowered enough for you to search, you didn't waste a second. You roamed for hours, your hair and clothes muddy and wet, tangling around your face and body. A few branches scratch your skin, and pebbles disrupt your messy scout. The sun shone through the branches of the wrenching trees remaining on the land.

That was when you found it. Your breath hitched in your throat, considering the sight in front of you. The water had carried it to the canopy, where the remains of lilac bushes lay still. The long legs of the unicorn lay on the sludge-covered ground. Its beautiful long white mane is all tangled and scattered all across its face, its eyes still open and terrifyingly empty. You didn't even feel your feet move or the tears pouring down your cheeks—just crushing fatigue. It was dead. You were the one who paired it, and now it is gone. God, if you had been faster... Suddenly bursting with adrenaline, you ran and jumped at its side, like you wished you had before it was too late.

You hugged the unicorn's neck as tight as you could, holding on to the vain hope that a heartbeat would be heard. But all you could feel was the wet, cold white coat of the beautiful creature. You couldn't bear to let go; you didn't want to leave it alone. Curled up against its shoulder, you waited. The faint sound of thunder rang through the sky, urging you to look up to that shallow promise that would never make up for anything. Not for the losses, not for the pain. You wish you didn't feel the hurt, but you will be damned if you ever forget the cruelty of that moment.

Footsteps slowly made their way to your miserable form. Your eyes opened on their own, and you looked over to see who interrupted your grieving. And as you thought your heart couldn't be more broken, you let out a desperate cry. Crawley stood there, his golden eyes empty, but his face showed profound sorrow, looking as messed up as you did. A small body draped in a white-drenched sheet was held against his chest. The tightness of his hold reminded you of your own, but the delicacy of his touch made him look so vulnerable. He started walking once again, seeking your eyes, and you felt his misery, adding to your own.

Gently, he rested the small body against the side of the unicorn and patted its head.

"It's not fair." You sobbed, your heart clenching violently, the broken pieces piercing through your lungs.

He kneeled down, seemingly paying his respects like you've seen humans do. "God doesn't exactly do 'fair', if you hadn't noticed."

His red hair hid his face from you, but so did his distress and deep anger. It confused you. Of course you understood how he felt; you just didn't get why. Was it just because it was in his nature to thwart her wishes? But shouldn't he cheer on so many deaths and tragedies? Laugh at pain and suffering, like you have been used to.

"It's just... so cruel, and... I don't..." You couldn't finish the sentence before breaking down in tears. Crawley studied your face, followed the path of your tears, and finally focused on your clenched hands. He inhaled deeply, turned around, sat cross-legged, and gazed up at the sky.

"You might have too much of a sweet heart." In a cheerless joke.

You looked up and saw the majestic bow that adorned the clearing sky among the deadly clouds. It felt like a cynical joke played on you. Mocking you for the naive hope that justice was something God actually cared about.

But... as you peered over the furious demon grieving at your side, you felt less alone and strangely understood. Slowly, your hand went up and down his right arm to soothe his boiling heart, dusting off petals of lilac. He turned around, and you gave him a sad smile.

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33 A.D. Golgotha

It's safe to say you were heavily reprimanded for disappearing like that and letting a unicorn get away, because now, thanks to you, they were all extinct. Great job once again; you kept to yourself. Of course, you didn't mention your encounter to anyone.

And yet they didn't punish you; instead, they put you in charge of their new project, "Jesus." He was an incredible human; he was so full of love and kindness that you suspected they used the essence of the Bound itself. Those thirty-three years were fantastic, and you sure were able to stock up on love. You just wish it didn't have to end so soon.

Now here you were, completely defeated. They always had to do that, didn't they? Someone walked up to you and poked your right arm to get your attention. Surprised, you flinched and turned slowly with wide eyes.

"Oh, Aziraphale." You smiled, happy to see him here, since for some reason he was joyful, despite your circumstances. You had decided to give into your heart, only feeling what other people felt. And also, the filter might be broken; it seemed to work just fine with the guardian angel. He was certainly cheerful to be in the presence of the'son' of God, so it felt nice to feel the same.

Aziraphale smiled in return. "Hello Y/N." He then turned to the scene, and his brows frowned. You couldn't help but stare, like you did in the garden. What about him made you stare? You weren't sure, but you were dead set on noticing all the little details of his expressions. He was so expressive, whether it was through his mouth twitching, teeth gritting, or eyes glittering and squinting. The same goes for his smell; you were sure you could guess everything that was going on inside his head.

"Were you assigned to him ?" The gentle voice whispered, as if not to startle you. You thought about your answer. It wouldn't be logical if only cupids were to care for him, so it wouldn't blow your cover. But why did you want to keep lying so much? You slapped yourself mentally. Because he was a principality, because you showed too much emotion for a heartless being, and because you fricking bound him like a demon! But he was so nice, maybe he wouldn't mind... No.

"Yes, I followed him for most of his life." You smiled quickly but definitely stopped gawking his way. "He is a wonderful person." Tears welled up in your eyes, but you knew his existence was still worth it.

The disturbing sound of cracking bones, the hammer, and Jesus's words brought you back to reality, away from the memories. Why do humans never acknowledge good or beautiful things without having to break them? Love was a tricky concept to them, and they didn't really know when to let things be. Because, come on, he was betrayed by a kiss. They used love and trust as weapons. Humans would rather choose hatred and ignorance if it meant they were right and their pride would remain intact.

"Yes, humans can be dreadful creatures. sometimes." The angel nodded. You looked up, flustered. Being used to having yourself as your only companion made you forget to close your mouth and not get lost in your  reflection."

You flinched when he screamed, and you averted your eyes to the ground. A long black robe came into your view. Climbing up from the dry soil to the eyes of the newcomer, you smelled the spice of the naga viper. Crawley was indeed quite angry, alright ?

"Hi Crawley." You greeted me while taking a step closer to Aziraphale, away from the smell.

He acknowledged your presence with a smile and a nod, and you felt the angel stare behind you. You turned around to identify the emotion slithering from Aziraphale, but it was already gone. Still, he was fidgeting with his fingers and slowly backing away.

"Come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you ?" The demon inquired of Azirphale.

"Smirk ? Me ?"

"Well, your lot put him on there." He shrugged.

"What ?" Your incredulous voice resounded louder than you thought. "I thought it was the hate demons." You grasped Aziraphale's sleeve for support, and you fixed him. And he didn't pull away.

"Well, it was, but we, in a sense, let them put him there." He tried to explain the best he could while preserving Heaven's integrity. "And I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley. Otherwise, it would have been a more merciful death." He finally assured you, and you let go, unsure and overall confused.

"Oh, I've changed it."

The two of you turned to Crawley. "Changed what ?" You asked.

"My name. ' Crawl-y' just wasn't really doing it for me. It's a bit too... squirming-at-your-feet-ish." You chuckled at his explanation.

"Well, you were a snake." Aziraphale smirked, and his brow ticked in a teasing manner.

He was? You gulped and bit your lower lip. Thoughts came in a whirlwind into your mind, and you certainly weren't listening to anything they were saying. God, how many mistakes have you committed? The unicorn, the forbidden bound, and letting the snake tempt Adam and Eve into eating the apple. You were a complete catastrophe.

"Did you ever meet him ?" You heard Aziraphale ask.

The step you tried to take back was stopped by confusion. They were supposed to be linked, and when that happens, the people involved spend a lot of time together, as one would expect. So logically, they would at least know if the other had met someone as important as Jesus. What if... You visualised the surrounding bounds, the complete, yet-to-be finalized and the multitude of possibilities. You darted down to observe the bound of the two and realised you were standing in the middle of it. And to add to your feeling of failure, you realised the bound was anything but completed.

You can't even get that right; you mocked yourself. Laughter and tears wanted to escape your throat. Maybe it was for the better, but still, you couldn't bear to be the reason two people couldn't be together, especially not with such a beautiful bond. Perphas, you could try to shoot them one last time. You considered the thought for a moment and slowly decided against it. That was until you heard Jesus cry in pain once again.

"Oh, that has got to hurt." Crawl—no, Crowley hissed. You sniffed, but a small smile settled on your lips. The sound alerted the angel that spined to see you.

"He'll be alright, dear." He reassured me while tilting his head to the side to get a better look at you.

"For sure. Like I said, he's a bright man who wouldn't even hurt a fly; he'll go right up there." Crowley assured me too, gazing up at the sky.

You scratched your arm and hummed in response. Jesus was being horribly tortured for the ideal that love was the best thing life had to offer, and he priotized beyond anything else. The feeling was mutual; you wanted to live by that, if only your peers didn't make it sound so out of place. But you thought the least you could do to honour your philanthropic companion was to respect his beliefs.

"I'll be heading home... I'm heading to heaven. Gotta prepare for his arrival." Your eyes were lost staring at some rock on the ground before retreating away and weaving. "Bye, bye."

"You're sure-" Aziraphale tried, but you were already gone, middling in the crowd where you belonged. A faceless stranger that no one recognised. You turned your blindness spell on and flew up in the sky. You glanced down on the pair and laughed to yourself while aiming. Hopefully you wouldn't have to shoot them again, but come on: how many more arrows would this bound need ?

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41 A.D. Rome

Your invisible form was flying through the streets of Rome at a daring speed. Footsteps running on stone pavers and clothing rubbing against the rough surfaces of the city walls rang in the air. The giggles of the youthful couple were mixing with your own as you twirled around in pure delight. Oh, the sheer happiness of being young and deeply believing that their first love story would last forever.

It might be surprising to hear for some, but cupids were not shooting at every couple. It is your principal job, but most importantly, you were supposed to make sure the world's boundaries were constantly supplied with love. Of course, bounds were the most secure way of ensuring it; not every love story was meant to last forever. And young love is one of the most powerful types, beside unconditional love, as it is filled with hope and innocence.

The young man suddenly grabbed his lover's hand and pulled him into a small, secluded alley. You clapped your hands and soared up in the sky to land on the rooftop of a house. You crawled your way to the hedge of it and gawked down on them with a wide smile. The smaller boy was backed against the wall while his partner was smothering him with kisses on her nose, cheeks, and throat. His arms were passed around his neck as he hugged him lovingly. You supported your head with your hands settled against your cheeks.

The taller boy separated himself from his neck, and he used this opportunity to kiss him passionately. A huge wave of love came rushing up to you, and you inhaled it with vigour, both with your nose and mouth. It raised you on your knees and made you fall down on your back. You basked in the reinvigorating feeling and strung out profusely. The cold stone made the exposed skin of your legs shudder, but the warmth you felt in your heart surpassed any other sensations. It filled your stomach, and you were completely sated.

You hummed deliciously and observed the sky. Now, you were thirsty and still riled up from the emotion, and as always, you didn't know how to manage the thrills coursing through your system. As you came to understand, humans had different ways of dealing with such stirs. The more your body experienced, the more you contemplated your options; you just didn't have the guts to try. Whether it was food, sleep, or sex, You didn't know why; you just had that urge to be human.

Of course, it was absolutely inconceivable for your fellow angels and certainly for the demons too, if you were honest. It was just a different side of yourself that you started to discover. As strange as it is to say, acknowledging to yourself that you made terrible mistakes on Earth made you feel wonderfully uninhibited. You just lack the courage and actual safety to try.

Being unable to talk to anyone about it made you feel so insecure and scared. What if something went wrong ? What if your gifted body wasn't made to experiment anything 'humanly'? Oh Jesus, what if you exploded?! Yes, you had an inexplicable fear of exploding, and you had no idea where it came from. You just needed someone to... Well, actually, you just needed someone.

You rolled to your side and listed all the endeavours you wanted to throw yourself into when you felt an oddly familiar presence. You were alone most of the time; no one was really 'homey' in your heart. So, you kept rolling towards the busiest street, forsaking the lovey-dovey couple. It was a restaurant, and a busy one at that. Still, you managed to spot a red-headed man with much shorter hair than you remembered.

You looked down at your hands, still doubting the choice you made eight years ago. To appease your mind, you slipped down and called off the spell. Maybe they were on a date. Did they eat food ? Yes, you had your priorities neatly organised.

You peeked the upper part of your head through the door frame and found Crowley sitting alone on a stool. Scanning around the restaurant, you were met with the queer sight of Aziraphale playing on his own. Well, maybe it was a tradition of theirs...

"What have you got? Give me a jug of whatever you think is drinkable." He leisured. It peaked your interest, but you didn't initiate any movements. You watched intently when you saw Aziraphale get up from his seat and go up to the demon.

"Crawley- Crowley ? Well, fancy running into you here." Damn, they are definitely the least communicative couple you have ever encountered! Certainly, a bound like that would make it so much harder for them to be apart. You flashed your eyes pink, and that was when you summoned your vision. And you felt like screaming. Their link was still incomplete !

"Y/N ? Golly, it's quite a reunion." Aziraphale chuckled, clapping his hands. He gestured for you to come to the counter too. Unsure, you tiptoed your way towards them. Your mouth opened slightly when you saw the two drinks lying there.

Aziraphale followed your eyes and chirped. "Oh, where are my manners? Would you like a drink too, dear ?"

You blushed and started playing with your fingers. "I never consumed anything from Earth." The stutters you let out doubled the intensity of your embarrassment.

"Anything ?" Crowley insinuated, even though you didn't catch what he meant. The angel did, though, and tsked in a reprimanding tone.

"Still a demon, then?" He gave him a side eye.

The redhead snarked in response. "What kind of stupid question is that,'still a demon?' What else am I going to be, an aardvark?" The angel didn't listen, however, and ordered a drink for you.

You looked down, feeling like you were overstepping a private discussion. Sheesh, your shot has been totally useless, heh? You were really good for nothing, cupid, now were you? "It's really nice of you, but..."

"Here you go, apple and pear juice." The bartender served you right before you could slip away. You eyed the goblet and sniffed the sweet smell of appel and pear, the scent of endermant.

"Don't worry, the taste is way sweeter than house brown; it'll be easier for a first try." His round hand was handing you the drink, and you gently grabbed it, brushing your fingers against his. Bubbles were twirling in your stomach at his consideration.

"Thanks." You mumbled. Crowley huffed with a smirk. When you met his gaze shyly, he winked and grabbed his own cup. A gentle and warm sensation envelopped your body, and you held your cup closer to yourself.

"Salutaria." Aziraphale cheered and went to clank both of your goblets. You and Crowley met him in the hallway, and the vibrations caused your skin to create goosebumps. You enjoyed the feeling, especially when you ran your fingers alongside the texture, like you were doing unconsciously on your right arm. Freezing mid-thought, you rushed to see that your heavily scarred forearm was exposed for anyone to see.

Hiding it in such a hurry caused the pair to study you. You forced out a laugh and raised your glass again. "Heh, a moment of hesitation." You said this before bringing the cup to your lips. In the corner of your sight, you saw the angel moisten his lips.

"So, why are you in Rome for?" Crowley wondered, not caring at all for your discovery, as he finished his drink. You hummed in delight; your taste buds felt like exploding. You darted your tongue out and rolled it around the bit of honeyed pear that couldn't quite enter your mouth. Crowley gulped audibly, as he apparently didn't finish his bevarage as you thought he did.

"Mmh... I thought I'd try Petronius' new restaurant." Adding to the fruity liquid, a heavy wave of macarons and rosé made its way to your nose. You laughed breathlessly, and you were brought back to the conversation. "I hear it does remarkable things to oysters."

"I've never eaten an oyster." Crowley confessed. Do people eat rocks? You tilted your head, confused.

"Oh, well, let me tempt you to..." Aziraphale started, making you gasp.

You weren't the only one spurred up by the vocabulary of the angel; Crowley suddenly turned around to meet his gaze. That is when you noticed he covered his eyes. Despite this, Crowley still looked somewhat exasperated for some reason but was giving hints of macarons as well. Perphas, they were so flustered because you caught them on their date.

"No, that's—that's your job, isn't it?" His expression was tight, laughing through his teeth, his eyes going back and forth between the two of you.

To make sure you weren't the problem, you tried to suggest you join them on their little trip. "I might try an oyster."

He sputtered, realising the mistake he had made. "Oh God... Mh, the taste might be a bit too rich for you." You licked your lips, chasing the saccharine flavour. Crowley looked etched and suggested something out of sympathy.

"They'll be simpler food..."

You put the goblet down and backed. "Don't mind me, I'll see myself out; I still have some, huh, miracles to do!" It was a lie, of course; your lot didn't perform miracles on a daily basis, but you didn't think much of it. Oddly enough, lying didn't bother you that much.

You were so ashamed. You didn't understand why your bow didn't work. Some couples weren't easy to finalise, but you had already shot them twice. Plus, their bound wasn't strained or weak; it wasn't a technical mistake. So why ? "Have fun." You hoped your smile would encourage them to dine together, in spite of your interruption.

"Y/N-" The crowd already covered your body, while you wasted no time scampering away. The moment you were out of breath, you had arrived at the market. Inhaling deeply, you straightened yourself up, trying to sort out your thoughts. Obviously, something was wrong, whether it had to do with you or with them. If it failed not only once but twice, it's because it wasn't meant to be at all. Continuing would be pointless; you had to give them up. You had to.

Why, in the name of love, could you not make up your mind around the idea? Why couldn't you shake off the feeling of excitement you felt when those two were together? Certainly, a bound that would send such love could not be a miscalculation. They made you feel so good, and the theory of your possible addiction is becoming much more plausible now. But you refused to get addicted to them. You had to leave them; if they were meant to end up together, they would eventually do it on their own.

"Would you like to try an oyster, dear customer ?" A merchant interpellated you, since you had stopped only a few steps away. You observed the display of rocks and took a curious look at the seller.

"How do you eat them?" You asked.

"It's easy; come see." He called you over. First, he held the head in a firm grip and brought a knife to the tail of the pebble. He then twisted the knife around and finally slipped it inside. You raised one brow at your own dirty mind and looked away. Finally, as you didn't watch the rest of the show, he levelled the now-open rock to your face. "And you eat what's inside."

You studied the bogger-like thing and sluppered the whole thing, afraid of the taste. And surprising enough, you loved the taste of it, even if the viscous consistency made it hard for you to properly touch it with your tongue. You wondered what it would have been like if you went with Aziraphale and Crowley.

Jesus, you wanted to slap yourself. Stop thinking about them; you couldn't break your new resolution so quickly. And still, the thoughts kept rushing in! How caring the angel had been when he offered you a gentler beverage. The strange device that rested on Crowley's nose, which hid his pretty yellow eyes, The visible fluffiness of Aziraphale's whole being. Or the sweet gesture Crowley had for you, even though you had imposed yourself between him and the white-haired man.

Ok, you are ceasing at all, Y/N; this is ridiculous. You just had to be a burden, now don't you? All of a sudden, a hand tapped on your shoulder, but you were too irritated to answer politely.

"What ?" You snapped and shook the hand right off your shoulder.

And you turned around. You were sadly met with a slack-jawed Mihael, a colleague and former friend of yours, before the war. She was walking—well, you thought she did—but she still floated a few inches above the ground. Her dark pink eyes scanned your face, your fully expressive face, and trailed down to where you lay. She saw you eating, walking, and feeling. Oh God, she saw you snap, broodi, and enjoy. Worst of all, she was, out of all the cupids, the most documented about your situation. Mihael knew. It made her terribly dangerous.

"Please..." You pleaded, reaching out to her, but it only made it worse. She pranced as if she had been burned by your aching hands. Wors couldn't align together.

"Mihael, wait !" You ran after her, but she had already taken off and activated her blindness spell. "No, for heaven's sake !" You then tried to scream your disapproval out of your heart. Running away was the first thing that popped into your mind. Maybe go to the bottom of the abyss to properly cool down. That's how Mihael would come back, or if you were summoned, you'd be perfectly capable of faking your emptiness.

You sighed and detected the scent of desire. It was a brothel—a fancy one. You contemplated the idea of entering and finally deciding to indulge in your sinful interests. Hey, you were about to spend a fair amount of time away from all civilization, not even having light as your company. It would just be another line you'd cross, but you stopped counting the moment you bound an angel and a demon together.Oh God, could you just stop thinking about it? Ugh...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1354, Balkan merchant caravan, Greece

"We can't just keep every infant we find, Y/N. She's not our kin." Elif lectured you severely. Who was Elif, you may ask? He's the head of the merchant group you've been following for a couple of months. You had met him and his wife a few years ago, for obvious reasons, and now you travel with them in the hope of providing the parental love the two craved.

However, they were never able to conceive. So when you found this little baby girl, you knew she needed them as much as they needed her. Convincing Nazli was easy, Elif—eh, not so much. He wouldn't have an unknown baby as his child.

"We will give her to the next village with a stop-by, and that's final." He gave you a stern look and walked away to the group of men gathering around the fire.

It would have been easy to use an emotional orb to persuade him to keep her, but you knew their link would be hollow and fake; it would never last. You sighed and caressed the chubby face wrapped in a tight blanket, nested in the woman's arms. Her eyes pleaded your way, and you sent her a wave of reassurance.

"I'll take care of it, love. Don't worry." You smiled. You jumped out of the caravan and stretched your arms and back. The night sky was truly a beauty. On the day of your creation, though it's all a blur, you remember that it was also the same day all the stars were brought into existence. It was incredible, a majestic moment you wished you could recall more clearly, but your mind was funny like that.

You sighed, the memories of your last meeting with Mihael coming back to the surface, as you did four hundred years after you spent sleeping in the ocean. Honestly, you didn't mean to sleep; it was just all so peaceful, you couldn't help it. She hadn't said anything to Jophiel or Chamuel, not even her own linked! You were so thankful for that. Adriel was a real pain in the ass.

She came to you, more worried than anything else. I apologise until your ears bleed; you still didn't show the full spectrum of your emotions. You didn't trust her. All Mihael did was warn you, advise you to show minimal emotion, and keep better track of your environment.

Following her recommendation, you strayed from your kindness while still providing enough love so they would let you be. Through all your experiences, the distance between you and your peers grew larger, and even if you shared your emotional capacity, you knew you were a freak. It was all too strong. You felt alone in your emotions. Alone in the world. Under the vast canopy of the night sky, with stars twinkling like distant beacons of hope, you stood alone in the deserted land, your heart heavy with a profound sense of isolation. The world around her seemed to fade into insignificance as she gazed up at the infinite expanse above, feeling small and insignificant against the backdrop of the cosmos.

As you traced the patterns of constellations with your weary eyes, a wave of emptiness washed over you, engulfing you in a sea of solitude. Each glittering star seemed to mock you with its unreachable brilliance, a reminder of the vast distances that separated you from the rest of your kind. The soft breeze brushed your hair, bringing along a particular smell. Images of a certain red-haided demon flashed through your mind. A gasp fell out of your lips, and your heart swelled, beating wildly. You searched franticly, bouncing on your toes.

The moment you spot him, you want to rush and greet him, but his posture and behaviour stop you. Crowley is standing next to a caravan, seemingly hiding behind it. Confused, you take baby steps towards him and wait. Once you arrive near him, you get to see what he was watching.

Thieves and barbarians were steathly making their way down the hilltop to the merchants. They were barely visible to the eye; the bright glow of the campfire seemed to warn the good people, but no one seemed to notice. You bit down on your lip when you realised it was certainly your friend's work. Friend ? You meant the client. The anger you felt wasn't directed at him, and it surprised you.

Well, no, what surprised you the most was his next action. While you thought Crowley was here to supervise everything that went smoothly, he instead did something unexpected. He straightened up, raised his hand, and snapped his fingers. You frowned, completely lost. Now, you were standing right behind him, peeking to see the scene unfold.

A huge piece of marchandise rolled out of a cart, one facing the approaching criminals. Elif, who had been conversing with his men, snapped his eyes at the bag before scanning the area around it. Including the bushy hill. The man spotted the group and alerted the others to get ready to fight or hide. You gasped and glanced over Nazli and the baby, but they were far enough away and well hidden.

Your eyes soften at the realisation of what Crowley just did. He also seemed quite satisfied with his actions, and you knew he was congratulating himself. Yeah, you smelled the mix of whipped cream and blueberries. A smug smirk appeared on your face, and you decided to scare him just a bit.

"How much has changed since I left?" You spoke up playfully, making sure to be as sudden as possible. And your wish was answered when Crowley spun around violently, screaming and bolting away from you.

You laughed despite yourself, but the demon was too stunned to really care. "Y/N ?! You scared the hell out of me!" He crowed.

"It seems like you didn't need my help for that." You accused me teasingly, a brow raised.

His widened eyes finally shrank down, and he gulped. "It's not what it looks like." His voice sounded almost pleading, tugging at your heartstrings.

"Crowley, it's okay. I ain't going to denounce you." You took a step forward and tilted your head. "But I will ask you questions." The struggles of battle could be heard, with the thieves charging at the campers.

He groaned and ran a hand in his hair. It grew longer since the last time, probably multiple times since it had been centuries since you two encountered each other. It seemed to be tied into a low ponytail, and his clothes were still as black as the night, in comparison to yours, which were always colourful.

"So... why are you doing the angels work ?"

He sighed and took some time to respond, allowing the gooshing sound of blood hitting the ground to fill the air. "I guess I could tell you..." Crowley took off his glasses and searched into your eyes. In return, you offered him an encouraging smile.

"Me and Aziraphale made an arrangement... We stay out of each other's way and help when we can." He crossed his arm against his chest, leaning again against the caravan.

"Seem simple enough..." You shrugged before frowning. "Don't... don't Heaven and Hell suspect anything ?" Your voice reflects your concern.

A dagger was thrown your way. Crowley grabbed onto your sleeve and pulled you out of its trajectory, next to him. "Nah, they never suspect anything; you know how they are." He tried to act casual, but you did smell relieved that you didn't freak out.

You hummed and chuckled. "Yeah.." A kind of comfortable relationship settled between the two of you, but you couldn't shake the awakening remaining. Leaving abruptly and disaperating for centuries will do that for you.

"Where have you been ?" The redhead inquired.

You inhaled deeply before answering. "I visited the abyss for a while, and... I kind of fell asleep."

Crowley's impressed smile echoed your embarrassed one when he turned toward you. "You fell asleep ?" He nagged with a chuckle. "For how long ?"

"For about four centuries..." You rubbed the back of your head. The air abruptly carried the piercing cries of the infant, grabbing your attention and sending them right back to your clients. You gasped sharply and held your breath. Two barbarians were sprinting towards the poor woman and the baby. Nazli did her best at keeping them at bay, swinging her sabre around and cutting them off enough to prevent them from getting closer. But their patience was running thin.

"Nazli !" Alerted by gut-wrenching cries, Elif called out to his wife, his eyes widening with terror. But he had no time to think; no, he rushed into action. The chief slashed his way to his love, not stopping for anything. Not even the cart right in front of him, where you and Crowley were currently leaning against.

"Wow." The two of you mused in chorus as the chief jumped right over your heads and landed right behind the two men. He brought his long, curvy dagger to the first's throat and slit it wide open. The cries of the baby kept ranging through the air as you watched in awe and slight disgust as the crimson liquid poured down in a thick puddle on the soil.

"Ew." You murmured, earning a scoff from Crowley, who observed the scene with arms crossed over his chest. The other thief punched Elif in the face, but he couldn't care less. He spit out a mixture of blood and saliva and then plunged his dagger into the attacker's chest with all the rage he could muster.

"Mh, talk about killing for love." Crowley commented. But didn't answer. Instead, you looked at the scene tenderly. Elif helped his wife get out of the caravan, putting his hands around her and the baby. That's when the infant instinctively grabbed onto the man's finger. By the way his breath caught in his throat, you knew it pulled right at his heartstrings. You couldn't help but smile like a complete goof.

After what felt like hours, the marchants finally won their battle. Now was the time to mend wounds and sooth souls. Crowley stayed with you the entire night, giving you two hours to catch up. And despite how much you struggled to admit it, you did enjoy spending time with him. Not because he was a dreadful company, quite the opposite. But you knew you had to keep your distance.

Right now, you sat next to each other, watching the spouses cuddle the baby. In the soft glow of the rising dawn, Elif and Nazli sat side by side next to the fire, their hands clasped together in a silent gesture of love and solidarity. The room was bathed in the warm hues of sunrise, casting a soft, golden light upon their faces.

"Nazli." Her husband began, his voice filled with emotion, "I've been thinking a lot about what you said... Maybe we should take her in."

Nazli's eyes lit up with delight, her heart swelling with gratitude for the man she loved more than words could express. You swore in that instead, as you smelt the intoxicating scent of love, you could sink back into the deep abyss and leave solely on the memory of their love.

"Oh, Elif.." She exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "Do you really mean it ?"

Elif nodded, a smile spreading across his face as he reached out to gently caress his wife's cheek. "Yes." He replied, his voice filled with conviction, "I mean it with all my heart. I want nothing more than to offer you the family you always wanted." His hand caressed the small baby's hair. "Offer her the family she needs. Little Qamirah." He smiled foundly.

Tears of joy welled in Nazli's eyes as she threw her right arm around her husband, pulling him into a tight embrace. "Thank you, my love," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. You smiled tenderly and glanced towards Crowley, your hand gesturing to the couple. He smiled softly and rolled his eyes in anoyance, but you knew how he truly felt.

You retreated from the wholesome, resting your head back against the wooden cart. "Maybe this deal isn't such a bad idea after all."

Crowley mirrored your chuckle. "I guess you could be added to the contract." He jested teasingly.

You gasped happily and smiled. "Really ?"

"Sure, but it'd be best if you stayed on the surface of Earth for that." He nudged your elbow with his own.

"Don't worry." You streched your back and raised your covered arms high in the sky.

Crowley frowned as he took notice of the clothing. "Afraid you'll get a tan?" He teased.

You bit your lip and caressed your right arm. "Nah, more like a fashion choice." You winked. Crowley laughed hoarsely and then streched up his arm. You watched softly as he got up and dusted himself off.

"I'd love to stay, but I got some reel demonic work to do." He waved off and had already started to walk away. In a matter of seconds, you got up and followed after him. Somehow, you didn't want to let him leave, at least not this way.

"Wait !" You called, and Crowley stopped midstep.

"What ?" He turned softly.

Instead of answering, you sprinted towards your caravan and grabbed a plant you had snatched when you went to the other side of Earth and spent time with the Tupi-Guarani ivilization. They have wonderful, complex social structures, rich oral traditions, and extensive knowledge of the natural world. Ah, what a wonderful vacation !

You pulled out the plant; they called it the flower of the moon. It was a stunning plant, prized for its graceful, glossy foliage and elegant white flowers. With its lush, dark green leaves that arch gracefully from the base, the moon flower produces delicate, white flowers with a central spadix surrounded by a white, petal-like spathe. "There you go!" You handed it to him with a bright smile.

Crowley observed this little beauty of nature before looking up at you with an unimpressed expression. "A plant ?"

You rolled your eyes. "Not just a plant, a moon flower. But it's so great to have one of those! You never really feel alone."

His bright yellow eyes stared into your own before he smirked. "It was time for you to emmerge, sweetheart." He nagged.

You pouted and nudged his arm. "Shush. Take the plant, a gift for everything you taught me." He groaned and took it anyway.

"Just so you know, if it dies, it's not my fault." His warning made you chuckle.

"I'll keep that in mind." You winked. "Thank you for your help." He simply nodded as a goodbye before disappearing from thin air.

As you stood there, you felt loneliness crawling its way back onto your shoulders. All the while you stayed with the demon, you never once felt alone. And more than that, you truly experience true understanding, and it was so refreshing... The irony of the situation was truly oddly amusing to you. You didn't trust another cupid, one of your kind, to display every emotion you could have. But it felt so natural to do so with a guardian angel and a demon. Swallowing with difficulty, you observed the newly founded family and felt something echo deep into your soul.

You laughed—a mixture of disbelief and strange relief. Not only were you one of a kind, but you also found out that you weren't alone in this. Yep, maybe you could indulge yourself in their company... Just a tinsy bit...

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1793, La Bastille, Paris

"Rattrapes la, bon sang!" You yelled at the young woman, hoping she would finally decide to run after her friend.

"Non, Y/N." She dismissed her sternly, though the tears threatened to leave her eyes. "Elle a fait son choix; c'est son problème." Turning away from you, she hid her feelings for her friend from you. At least she tried.

You groaned and added exasperation. "Elle a juste eu peur, Lucie. Robespierre est en train de couper des têtes à la volée; c'est tout à fait normal!" Lucie's 'roomate' Madeleine had joined her during the revolution, but the more the franzy took over, the more scared she became. People began beheading anyone who was against the Republic ideology, which included severing the heads of nicely dressed people.

Obviously, an argument ensued, and Madeleine decided to run away from Paris all together, to be safe from all the madness. Lucie wanted to stay, to continue the fight, but you knew she loved her more than anything. And here you were stuck between the two, trying desperately to smooth things over and reunite them. Which was insanely difficult.

"Alors quoi, tu vas la laisser partir? Ne plus jamais la revoir?" You tried to reason with her.

"Absolument !" She exclaimed and threw her hands in the air, acting like a spoiled brat. All of this was still too fresh. Lucie was immensly offended and hurt by her lover's words; there was no way to calm her down right this moment.

So you sighed and ruffled your hair. "D'accord, si c'est ce que tu veux..." Softly, you turned away from her. "Mais n'oublies pas qu'elle ne part que demain matin... agis avant que tu le regrettes." You threw her one last glance towards her, giving her time to pound.

As you made your way towards the square, you saw a couple young men tearing out pavers from the street and children gathering wood for their home. The city streets bustled with the fervour of revolution, while you kept seeking solace amidst the chaos that engulfed the lovely city. The distant echoes of revolutionary chants mingled with the clatter of horse-drawn carriages and the murmur of lively conversations, creating a symphony of sound that enveloped you in a cocoon of anonymity.

With each step you took, you felt the echo of Lucie's convictions pressing down on your stomach—the burden of long, agonising memories hanging over your heart, ready to come crashing down any second. The events of the day had left you shaken and unsettled, your mind swirling with thoughts of rebellion and resistance that once again didn't originate from you.

As you kept walking, you found yourself drawn towards the quieter corners of the city, away from the tumultuous crowds and swirling currents of political intrigue. Picking up a small yarrow, you softly palyed with it in between your fingers. As you wandered through narrow alleyways adorned with quaint cafes and bustling market stalls, your sensitive nose smelled of Parisian life and emotions.

With each passing moment, the rhythm of your footsteps became a mantra, a soothing cadence that calmed your racing thoughts and grounded her in the present moment. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you rolled up your sleeves, enjoying the relaxing wind on your scarred arm. The scent of freshly baked bread and aromatic spices was a comforting reminder of the simple pleasures that still existed amidst the turmoil of the revolution.

Slowly, you allowed yourself to be swept away by the beauty of your surroundings, finding solace in the timeless elegance of Parisian architecture and the soft glow of gas lamps that illuminated the streets like beacons of hope in the darkness. You brought the small white flower up to your nose and inhaled its scent deeply.

And as you flew up to a moonlight-bathed rooftop, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, allowing yourself to bask in the stillness of the sky. Reajusting your red béret on your head correctly, your eyes suddenly snapped down to two guards guiding an overly dressed and white figure away towards the Place de la Révolution, where the crowd was gathered around the guillotine.

And you knew who he was, for sure. "Oh God, Aziraphale..." You sighed and shook your head. The angel had quite particular taste in clothing, so it wasn't really a surprise when you spot him parade in Paris with such expensive clothes. Yeah, he always had a way to miss social clues. So, you flew back, saying farewell to your newly found peace, and followed them from a safe distance.

For your part, you dressed as the typical revolutionary Parisian, while slightly more colourful, so you had no trouble sneaking inside the prison, dodging the aristocrats being taken away by the very clear slashing sounds and screams coming from the lace. You kept searching among the moist cobblestones until you heard Aziraphale's gentle voice.

"Look, this is all a terrible mistake." He assured me while you slowly peeked your head from behind the cold stone wall. "I don't think you understand."

"I have good news for you. You are the 999th aristocrat to die at the guillotine by my hand." The man affirmed himself cheerfully, like a proud collector. "But the first English." You rolled your eyes at the statement, still waiting for the right moment to interfere. Why did Aziraphale not consider using a miracle? Why risk discorporation, especially such a painful one ?

"Now..." The man started before you heard him move around.

Before you understood what he was doing, Aziraphale got up, his chains clanking on the ground. "Please ! No."

You frowned, anger bubbling in your stomach and your teeth gritting. No way I'm letting him hurt Aziraphale... A rush of adrenaline washed over you, but just before you could intervene, a voice spoke from behind you.

"How about we help our little friend, mh ?"

A loud, high-pitched yelp escaped from your throat, and you turned violently around. Crowley was looking at you through his sunglasses and mocking a smurk on his lips. You let out the breath you kept in your lungs and growled.

"Don't do that." You scowled.

He shrugged and leaned over the prison cell. "It's just payback, sweetheart." He mumbled in a low voice and snapped his fingers, causing your brow to raise.

"Animals." The angel grumbled, deeply reproachful. You smiled and pushed the cell door open.

"Animals don't kill each other with clever machines, angel." Crowley said before sitting down nonchalantly.

"I'm afraid only humans do that." You added, standing with your hands behind your back.

"You..." Aziraphale sighed, and you smelled utter relief emitting from him. "Good Lord..." He smiled, rolling his eyes. You close up to him and gently remove the chains from his wrists. Your eyes trailed on his clothes, and you scoffed. Long white coat, richly decorated vest, obviously tailored pants, gee... The only thing you missed was the way your friend looked down at your hands, his breathing picking up slightly.

"What the deuce are you doing locked up in the Bastille?" Crowley inquired from his corner. "I thought you were opening a book shop."

"In London, nontheless." You finally got rid of the metal and let it fall loudly to the ground. Stepping away from him, the angel had space to take a deep breath and explain himself.

"Well, I was. I got peckish." He pouted, rubbing his bruising wrists.

Crowley smirked. "Peckish ?"

Aziraphale couldn't meet your gaze as you tasted funnel cake in the air. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, if you must know, it was the crêpes." You chuckled in response.

"Crêpes ? Don't they make 'em in England?"

"Not as good as the ones you find in Paris, that's for sure. Oh, and the brioche." He assured me, filled with conviction. You shook your head and kept laughing.

"So you just popped across the channel during a revolution because you wanted something to nibble?" The demon almost, ironically, lectured.

You shrugged. "Meh, I could understand. But not dressed like that, Azy." A smirk took place on your face.

He eyed you two up and down and then stated: "I have standards." In all your responses, you stuck out your tongue. "I did hear they were getting a bit carried away over here, but..."

"Yeah, this is not getting carried away. This is cutting off lots of people's heads very efficiently with a big head-cutting machine." The red head pointed out his slight resentment.

You nodded in agreement, but tried to bring up the positive. "At least, they are quite creative." But all you earned in return were jaded looks from your two clients. You raised up your hands to plead your innocence. "But, why didn't you miracle your way out?"

An effective way to change the subject. Aziraphale looked down once again. "Oh, I was reprimanded last month." You glanced towards Crowley, and you shared a knowing look. "They said I'd performed too many frivolous miracles. I got a strongly worded note from Gabriel."

Your lips twitched in a contrite pout. Only imagining what Chamuel would do if you ever got reported didn't settle quite with you, and the last thing you wanted was to bring to yourself. In a way, you were envious of how Aziraphale had even the chance to make a mistake.

Crowley stood up and strolled towards you. "Well, you're lucky I was in the area."

"We." You wasted no time correcting him.

Aziraphale scoffed. "I suppose I am." A soft smile appeared on his face, and the faintest blush appeared as he gawked at the two of you. "Why are you here?" He frowned.

"My lot sent me a commendation for outstanding job performance." The demon answered first, waving off his own statement.

Aziraphale gasped and got agitated again. "So all this is your demonic work?" He gestured towards the raging crowd.

"No. The humans thought it up themselves. Nothing to do with me." Now it was Crowley's turn to clear his name. So, there is a chance for you to restore your image.

"Heh, I told you, creative." You chirped proudly. But the same silence welcomed your words. You sighed, and your shoulders fell. "Fine..."

"Well..." Azirphale talked up again after a few seconds of judging silence. "I suppose I should say thank you for the, uh, rescue." He swung his arms from either side of his body softly.

"Don't say that." Crowley suddenly surged forward and snarled, startling you slightly. "If my people hear I join forces with an angel to save another, I'll be the one in trouble."

You sighed and rolled your eyes, already starting to walk away. Over the centuries, you learned to leave these two whenever they started to have a moment. "And my lot, do not send rude notes." Crowley's voice was fading and was replaced by your own footsteps.

"Well, anyway, I'm very grateful. What about if I buy you lunch?" Aziraphale offered. You stopped in the middle of the hallway and, at a turn, smiled, melancolic, before foresaking their conversation. Even though it didn't stop there.

"What do you think, Y/N?" The red head stopped mid-sentence as he noticed you were gone. He sighed and rolled his eyes. "What do they always do?"

Once again, you didn't join them for lunch. Why would you? They were just clients. You repeated this to yourself all the time, hoping one day it would finally make its way to your brain. But this desire never went away, despite how many times you echoed your words over and over again.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the slowing city, you stepped out of a restaurant, crêpe in hand. Obviously, to avoid any unwanted attention, you made sure to pass by Lucie and, thank you enough, Madeleine. Quietly munching on your treat, you observed their bodies finally coming together. The tension that had lingered between them for so long seemed to melt away in the fading light, replaced by a tentative sense of reconciliation. They were a few feet away from each other, but still Lucie reached out tentatively, her hand trembling slightly as she touched the blonde's cheek, her eyes filled with regret and longing.

"Je suis désolée, Madeleine." She whispered softly, her voice barely audible above the gentle rustle of leaves. "Je n'ai jamais voulu te faire de mal." Tears softly formed in her eyes. "Je t'aime plus de tout au monde." She confessed, her voice breaking under the emotion.

Madeleine's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she reached out to clasp her lover's hand in her own, the relieving scent of forgiveness filling the air. "Je t'aime aussi, Lucie." She replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "J'ai juste eu tellement peur... tout ce qui passe en ce moment..." Her breath quickened once again through her fear.

"Je sais, je sais, et je m'en excuses. Mais je te promets qu'il ne t'arrivera jamais rien, jamais." She assured, so determined with the firm intention to protect Madeleine until her last breath.

And in that moment, as they sat together beneath the canopy of clouds, you felt a pang of longing tug at your heartstrings, a silent reminder of the feelings you had buried deep within your soul. It wasn't the first time you felt envious, but you would never let those feelings settle in your heart. The choice you made so many centuries ago will never change. However, as you watched from the sidelines, you were unable to recognise the truth that lay dormant within your own soul.

Lucie and Madeleine embraced, their love rekindled amidst the fragrant blooms and gentle whispers of the night, as they finally found solace in each other's arms. "Ça ira mon amour..." Lucie hugged Madeleine tightly against her chest as she continued to sob her relief and fear. "Ça ira pour toujours."

Yeah, it will be okay. You bit off a bit of your crêpe, the mixture of the taste of love and your little snack warming up your belly in the best way. You got up and stretched out your arm, bow in hand. And while you shot the two of them, you kept hoping that one day you would be at peace with your choice.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 

1811, Windsor Caslte, London

The grand ballroom shimmered under the warm glow of candlelight, its walls adorned with opulent tapestries and gilded accents. As the musicians tuned their instruments, the air buzzed with anticipation. Ladies draped in silk and lace, gentlemen adorned in tailored coats, assembled in a choreographed display of social refinement. As the orchestra struck the first notes, couples gracefully glided across the polished floor, engaged in the intricate steps of the minuet. The scent of perfumed wigs mingled with the delicate fragrance of flowers scattered throughout the hall. Servants discreetly circulated, offering glasses of fine wine to the elegantly attired guests. You swiftly grasped a glass and nodded to the young woman, thankfully.

Amidst the rhythmic rustle of silk and the subdued murmur of conversations, the atmosphere exuded a sense of sophistication and regality. The ball at the court of George III unfolded as a spectacle of grace, where every movement and gesture spoke the language of grace and societal hierarchy. You strolled among the crowd to fade into the background while observing two enemies dancing together. The line between love and hate was so thin. You couldn't help but feel drawn to them, despising the risk of facing a hate demon. She was sent to kill him, a duke, but they've been dancing for hours now. The tension was there—the ballroom, the dancing—if you wanted to, you could just send a wave of temerity, and the deal would be sealed!

I continued to stroll in a circle around the couple, listening to the music softly. You enjoyed the sweet melodies and the frail details of each note; it made your heart react differently to every song. You hummed the languishing melody as you closed up to the buffet, where you were met with a familiar presence. Your head softly snapped to study the table covered with baked goods, and you smiled brightly as you recognised the person. Rushing to his side, you wasted no time greeting him.

"Aziraphale !" You chirped as you stood a few feet away from him. The white-haired angel was startled, as he didn't expect you here, even less to catch him with his mouth full. He let out a muffled exclamation before swallowing with difficulty.

He coughed a bit before greeting you back. "Y/N, hello!" Aziraphale smiled and closed up to you ever so slightly. "Golly, I haven't seen you since the bastille." His whole presence was so warm, and you couldn't help but bask in it.

You nodded, still smiling like an idiot, as you looked at him up and down. "I'm relieved to see you understood how to dress according to the situation." You teased him playfully and nudged him gently. Worry had eaten you up for a long time since the last time you saw the trusting angel almost getting disintegrated, so it was refreshing to see him well and still so fluffy-looking.

"O-Oh.." He smiled, embarrassed, while rubbing where you had touched his arm. He laughed softly. "Yes, I learned my lesson well enough."

You grinned gently before grabbing a small snack from the display of food. "So, what have you been doing here?" You munched softly on the little dish before looking back up at him.

"Oh, well, I've been sent here to perform some miracles, as always." Aziraphale explained. "But I must admit that I stayed for the music and the food." He hummed as he picked out something too. "Ah !"

You laughed softly at him and took in the ballroom once more. "I see. It's nice to see another angel enjoying music too."

His eyes seemed to sparkle when he nodded. "Indeed, it is." He smiled, his squishy cheekbones raising up. Despite yourself, you couldn't help but blush at his attention, though you would not admit it. To shake those ideas out of your head and tilt your head towards the intricate dancing. "Even danced before?" You wondered, taking the last sip of your wine.

"Oh, heavens no..." Aziraphale dismissed you, while you still caught his yearning gaze directed to the dance floor. "Angels don't dance."

You raised your brows, your lips pouting in an agreeable manner. "True, but we are one of a kind." The smirk on your face was nothing but devilish.

He exhaled deeply and shook his head. "You spend too much time with Crowley." The last dance came to an end, and the room roared with delicate applause. Aziraphale kept fidgeting with his fingers, longing to join in on the next dance.

"By the way, I know the steps of the minuet." You trailed off casually. "I could guide you." A small grin creeped into the corner of your mouth.

His chest swelled quickly at your words. "You do?"

twirledYou didn't ans;er him, instead, you giggled and led him to the dance floor. In the dimly lit ballroom, the strains of a delicate melody of the song 'St James' House' twirling in the air. With a gentle yet firm touch, you guided him through the intricate steps of the dance, your movements fluid and effortless. As you two glided across the polished floor, your poised demeanour contrasted with the angel's tentative strides, yet he followed your lead with a mixture of awe and determination. His steps faltered occasionally, but your encouraging smile and subtle corrections kept him in rhythm. With each turn and twirl, you conveyed a seemingly lifetime of experience, while Aziraphake, with his earnest enthusiasm, added a sense of freshness and spontaneity to your performance.

He had the happiest grin on his face while gracefully gravitating around one another. "You're doing great."

His cheeks were coloured a soft pink. "It's so much better than I could imagine."

"You shouldn't be afraid to do what your heart wants because you dread what others might think." You chuckled and squeezed his hand.

His brown eyes met yours, and you smelled cypress and pitaya. The words escaped your mouth before you could think; they shocked both of you but truly conflicted him. And you wanted to slap yourself with your own hyprocrisy. However, Aziraphale didn't give your dark thoughts enough time to form.

"Sometimes I wish..." He whispered, looking down at his feet. You gave him time to form his words correctly, gently leading the dance. "I wish I wasn't attached to Heaven." He was truthfully letting his vulnerability out, trusting you with ideas that could get him erased. "Not that I want to be a demon; far from that! But... at least not having so many restrictions and rules."

"I understand how you feel; it's the way Heaven does things. I find it odd and... cruel." Under the facade of elegance and refinement, a sense of unease hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the grandeur of the evening. You two kept twirling and spinning, your steps now synchronised in perfect harmony. With each turn and dip, no one could suspect how you spoke in hushed tones of the injustices and inequalities that plagued the very system they were sworn to uphold.

"It's unfathomable." Aziraphale murmured, his voice tinged with frustration, as he guided Amelia through a graceful turn. "How can we claim to be the arbiters of justice when we let incommensurable horrors happen on Earth ?"

Your brow furrowed in agreement as she met Aziraphale's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the harsh realities they both faced. "Indeed," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness. "I also had been exposed to a certain... hypocrisy." You kept escaping his gaze. "But at least, I think we can find beauty in the fact that despite all the hate in the world..."

You trailed off your last words, preferring to watch over the angel's shoulder and see your two clients still dancing with ardor. Their movements were a silent protest against the injustices that permeated their world, a defiant assertion of their shared belief in a better, more equitable future. A hope that encouraged them to share a kiss instead of guiding each other to their deaths. You smiled softly and led Aziraphale towards the outlet of the dance floor, as you had an arrow to shoot. "Most humans choose love."

As you finished your sentence, you reached the rest of the ballroom. Aziraphale's mouth was slightly open, as if totally mismerized by words. On instinct, you chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Sorry, Az, I have to go, but it was so good to see you again!" You chirped and fantastically ignored the angel's blush. "Bye, bye! Smooches !"

And you left, bouncing up and down and disappearing in the crowd. But you couldn't resist a last little peek. As you did, you catched Aziraphale, pressing his hand to his cheek with eyes wide open. You giggled. Sometimes you forget how angels aren't used to being physical; you have to cut him some slack.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1862, St. James Park, London

In the tranquil setting of the park, you stood next to the serene pond where ducks paddled lazily through the shimmering waters. With each gentle toss of seeds, you watched as the ducks eagerly darted forward, their feathers ruffling with excitement as they pecked at the scattered treats. You were waiting near the Aziraphale and Crowley, discretely, of course, and waiting to see the result of your new attempt. You had tried a new technique and sincerly hoped it worked this time.

Lost in the soothing rhythm of your task, Sarah hardly noticed the passage of time as she waited for her friend, Alex, to arrive. But as the minutes stretched into hours, a frown creased her brow, and a sense of unease began to gnaw at her. Finally, you spotted Crowley alone, striding towards you, his brow furrowed and his expression clouded with frustration. Your heart sank as you recognised the telltale signs of a heated altercation, and you braced yourself for the storm that was about to come.

As he approached, he stomped his foot heavily on the ground beside you, his movements stiff and tense. Sensing the tension radiating from her friend, she hesitated for a moment before tentatively reaching out to lay a hand on his arm, a silent gesture of comfort and support.

He groaned loudly and kept fidgeting and squirming around; it was obvious he didn't handle frustration really well. "I can't believe him!"

You chuckled and turned back to the pound. "It's good to see you too, Crowley." You smirked.

"Yeah, yeah..." He dismissed me but didn't ask anything. Without another word, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a crumpled paper bag, tossing a handful of breadcrumbs into the pond with more force than necessary, causing the ducks to scatter.

"Don't feed them bread!" You slapped his hand to stop him, causing all the crumbs to fall to the ground.

He frowened and shook his hand to nub the pain. "Why ?"

"It's bad for them! There." You stood up and gave him your small bag. "Give them some cracked corn, or even peas is fine!"

Crowley nodded absently and started throwing the seeds inside the lake in a more calm manner now.

“So, what did Aziraphale do to piss you off this time?” You grinned softly. 

He didn't smirk like he used to. Nor even scoff. You turned to him and realised he was playing with the small, empty bag. You frowned slightly and inhaled deeply. Rusty metal and tuna filled up your nose, making you fully turn. Why was he feeling guilty?

“Was it something you did?” You guessed in a soft voice, trying to show him you wouldn't judge him if he made a mistake.

He groaned and took off his glasses to rub his face. His bright yellow eyes met yours, and you saw doubt. What wasn't he ready to tell you? After everything you had discussed.

“If it’s something you said, I'm sure it can be dealt with.” You smiled reassuringly.

He shook his head and faced you slowly. “It's something I asked.” His answer was evasive, but at least he was giving you hints.

You nodded absently, though you didn't know what Crowley could have possibly asked that Aziraphale wouldn't allow. “Did you ask to buy a book?” 

He scoffed out a laugh. “I wouldn't dare.” 

“Then what?” You pressed in a near whine. Crowley lost his smile and looked back ahead. 

His chest rose in a deep inhale, and he reached in his pocket for a piece of oddly wet paper. With a scrunched nose, you took the slimy paper and opened it. And what you read made you feel what other cupids thought you always did. Dead serious.

“What…w-what..” You coughed and blinked repeatedly. “Why would you need that?” 

He was fixed on your face, examining your reaction. “For insurance. In case the deal goes wrong." 

“It's too dangerous.” You took a step back. Anger started to bubble in your stomach. Why ? You couldn't exactly pinpoint it. Maybe it was against Crowley for ever considering such an idea. Or against yourself for participating in a deal that you knew could bring mountains of troubles. You squished the paper in your hand and miracled it away. The red-haired man sighed next to you.

"Fine, take his side; I don't. As I said to him, I got other people to 'fraternize with, some more open-minded people." He pestered you, but you didn't miss the smell of hurt. You huffed anyway and frowned.

"Yeah, right, go on then. Go tell your demon friends how eager you are to get your hands on this; I'm sure they'll be thrilled!" You snarled and threw the last bit of seed into the water, miraculously not hitting any ducks. Not wanting to stay any longer, you left, purposely stepping on the ground harder than necessary.

In an effort to clear your mind, you strolled through the park while the regular questions came running back to you. Why, when you shoot an arrow at them, it doesn't complete their bound but instead leads them apart even more? What were you doing wrong? It often confused you and kept gnawing at your brain, so very often. You entered a part of the park filled with roses of all sorts, similar to the different types of affection and love. Because flowers tend to represent the variety of loves that exist in the world. White roses for young love, pink roses for gentle love... And in the case of this one, you weren't sure.

While you observed this new rose, you failed to notice the angel's presence right at the angle. He was smelling the same flowers as you, Jack Roses, as they were called, to calm his nerves. As he gazed back up, he spotted you. A smile adorned his face, and he gently made his way to you. "Y/N ?" He gently called out. You looked up, too, and smiled. Yeah, you both knew you had the same conversation.

In a comfortable silence, you went to sit together on the worn park bench, the evening sun casting a warm glow over the tranquil scene. You noticed the furrowed brow and tense posture of your friend. He kept twirling the rose in between his fingers. Quietly, you grabbed it from his hand and attached it to his jacket as an ornament.

With this gentle touch, you offered a wordless gesture of support and solidarity. Aziraphale's gaze flickered towards yours, uncertainty etched in the lines of his face, but as he met your reassuring gaze, a flicker of relief crossed his features. In that moment, you felt the tension in his body begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of reassurance and, you’d call it, camaraderie. After a few minutes, you grinned slightly and joked. “Fraternising ?” 

He scoffed and closed his eyes. “You know what I meant.” 

The problem ism that you didn't. Through theMilanals,s you never understood the nature of their bon,orr your relationship with them. Are they friends,camarades, or, lovers ? It was so mess and confusing. Maybe it was because of your heart, but you were not capable of identifying the truth of it all. And solely about them,m which only made it worse ! But now, you couldn't leave Aziraphale alone, could you? It was your fault if they split up, the least you could do was, well, do the right thing. And you always, always do what you think is best.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1941, London

In the heart of wartime London, amidst the chaos and clamor of air raid sirens and echoing footsteps, you raced through the bustling streets, your heart pounding with urgency. The cobblestones echoed the rhythm of your hurried steps as you darted past dimly lit alleyways and bustling market stalls,your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

In the heart of wartime London, amidst the chaos and clamour of air raid sirens and echoing footsteps, you raced through the bustling streets, your heart pounding with urgency. The cobblestones echoed the rhythm of your hurried steps as you darted past dimly lit alleyways and bustling market stalls,your breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

You were frantancly looking for Aziraphale. The two of you had been hanging around each other, and you started to notice when he first had contact with the Nazis. And despite your anger, you knew he was putting himself in danger, and you couldn't help but come to his aid. The only problem was that you had no idea where he might be. With every passing moment, the weight of uncertainty pressed down on your shoulders, driving you forward with a relentless determination. Your senses were heightened, attuned to the cacophony of voices and the distant rumble of explosions that reverberated through the city like a symphony of chaos.

Through the haze of smoke and dust, your eyes kept flashing pink, searching frantically for his familiar aura, your aching heart hammering in your chest as she wove through the throngs of people who filled the streets like ants scurrying for cover. Each passing moment felt like an eternity as you raced against time, your mind consumed by the singular purpose of finding Aziraphale and avoiding a catastrophe.

As you turned a corner into a narrow alleyway, your breath caught in your throat as your eyes finally spotted Aziraphale's bound, guiding you to a nearby church. With a surge of hope, you quickened your pace, your heart pounding in anticipation as you drew closer to the familiar energy. In your haze of thoughts, you didn't realise you were standing right in front of the huge wooden door and had kicked it open. The noise the door made mimicked thunder, startling the three men, though your blazing gaze was focused on only one. Azirphale had his eyes wide in complete confusion and was surprised. But only after a few seconds of taking your messy appearance in did worry morph into his face.

"Y/N ? Oh, my dear Lord, what happened to you ?" Aziraphale rushed to you, totally abandoning the two men.

"War happened to me." You growled before shaking your head and strolling towards him. "I can't believe you're dealing with Nazis !"

Meanwhile, a thinner man packed up the books Aziraphale had brought. "I will pass it on to the Fuehrer."

"To Hitler ? The wost human ever ?!" You sighed then, completely dejected. Like every war, it took a real toll on you. Love was hard to come by, and you were famished, going as far as bounding rats together. Aziraphale stumbled on his words, wanting to explain everything to you, but stopped himself.

"These volumes of prophecy will be in Berlin by the end of the week. The Fuehrer will be most grateful." You glared the Nazi's way, your face utterly sullen.

"You have been exceedingly helpful, Mr. Fell." You sent a deadly look in the white head direction while he kept fixing ahead of him, lips drawn in a thin line. That's when the noise of a gun resonated inside the empty space of the church. "Such a pity you and your friend must be eliminated, but take heart, just another in the blitz."

A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, and you commented. "Again ?"

He pouted apologies in response and then turned back to his little friends. "That's not very sporting." You frowned, intrigued, and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

The chubbier one copied your frown and observed. "You do not appear worried, my friend."

The sound of heels was accompanied by another cocking gun. You turn around, your eyes widening along with the two other men, while Aziraphale fakes nonchalance. Still, he reeked of arrogance.

A woman dressed in black was aiming her weapon at the Nazis. "He's not worried." She revealed. She didn't smell friendly, though, but surprising enough, some humans were more talented at hiding their real intentions than others. That's why you couldn't figure her out. Wary, you softly stepped back, in between her and your friend.

"Who is she?" The man asked, and Aziraphale wasted no time in answering. "She, my double-dealing Nazi acquaintance, is the reason why none of those books are going back to Berlin." He turned to you, bowing his head with pride at his own schemes. "And why your nasty little spy ring will be spending the rest of the war behind bars." The two men nicely raised their hands and dropped their guns.

Suddenly, malice hit your nostrils—a mix of sweetpea and the steathy scent of gunpowder—revealing itself when you least expected it. Oh, come on...

"Let me introduce you to Captain Rose Montgomery of British Military Intelligence." The way he talked truly felt like he was reliving a scene from a mystery book, and you could easily get distracted by how much you enjoyed his almost childish joy if you weren't busy eyeing the woman's swinging aim.

She stepped closer, but you stood your ground next to the angel. "Thank you for the introduction." Her smile was too fake, and her gun kept pointing in the wrong direction, and you didn't hesitate to constantly step in the way.

"Our side knows all about the two of you. She recruited me to work for you." He insisted on the word 'work' while glancing furtively at you. But you knew something was off. "Aziraphale..." You started with a meek voice.

"And now she is going to tell you this building is surrounded by..." Aziraphale continued to ramble but interrupted him firmly.

"Aziraphale." You grabbed onto his arm to ground him as a twisted smile diformed the man's features.

"I'm afraid she works for us, Mr. Fell." You held back and growled as the man spoke up.

"Allow me to introduce Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt." The smaller man spoke slowly as the woman turned towards both of you, clearly aiming at you now. Aziraphale gasped, but you kept keeping him away from the weapon.

Greta kept stepping away and started to talk tenderly with one of the men. Gee, you couldn't believe that the most love you had felt in weeks was coming from the most terrible people God had ever created. You glanced back at Aziraphale, who was completely lost, and it pained your heart to see him like this. "Now, where were we? Oh yes." The gun was so close, you swore you could just knock it out of her hand. "Killing you."

"You can't kill us. There'll be paperwork." Azirphale almost pouted behind you, but you sensed him moving closer. But before anything could happen, the heavy wooden door slammed open once again.

And whoever had just entered seemed to have quite trouble breathing. Or maybe they were hurt. In the end, it was a mix of both. "Sorry, consecrated ground." It was Crowley, daring to walk into a church. His feet seemed to burn as he tried to spend minimal time on the ground. And you thought about how grateful you were that you had the ability to fly. "Oh ! It's like being at the beach in bare feet." His voice was so high-pitched that it almost made you laugh.

"Crowley ?" You mused, at a loss for words. It's been years since you've seen him—well,  since your argument in St. James—and it would be a lie if you said you hadn't missed him.

"Yep, the one and only, always there to save your butts." He teased while turning around in circles to avoid standing in one place.

"I should have known, of course. These people are working for you." Aziraphale accused you and finally stepped in front of you.

The demon seeked suppot in one of the dark benches as the floor kept burning him. "Nah, they're a bunch of half-witted Nazi spies running London, blackmailing and mudering people. I just didn't want to see you  embarrassed." He tried to nag but couldn't handle the pain. Instead, he waddled around like a duck.

"Indeed, I see you are covering for us both." Azirphaled mocked you in a hushed voice and smiled when he noticed the growing grin on your face, even if you tried to mask it.

"Mr. Anthony J. Crowley. Your fame precedes you." The man started, catching your attention, and you noticed the woman almost drooling over your friend. Well, it was a bit exaggerated, but it seemed like the best vocabulary to use in that moment.

"Anthony ?" Aziraphale wondered, unsure if he heard him right. "You don't like it ?" Crowley retored, and you smelled legit curiousity; the thought of him changing his name to suit the angel caused a cheeky smile.

"No, no, I didn't say that. I'll get used to it." The white head reassured me, though he kept frowning. And it raised a couple questions for you too.

"Wait, so what's your name ? Or do they call you Aziraphale Fell ?" You leaned in, tilting your head to the side. "Kinda redundant, don't you think ?" You jested with a smirk.

"Really not the place, dear." The angel lectured gently but didn't lean away.

"The famous Mr. Crowley ?" She kept eyeing him like a piece of meat, and you really didn't like that, and you unconsciously moved in front of the demon, but it was kind of useless considering he had to keep moving. "That's such a pity that the three of you must die."

Crowley tipped his hat, and you pouted. "What does the 'J' stand for ?" You continued, despite what Aziraphale had just said.

"It's just a 'J', really... Look at that !" You frowned, followed, and looked over where he was gawking. Holy water. You scowled. "A whole fontful of holy water doesn't even have guards !" The red head explained a mixture of pain and excitement.

"Enough babbling. Kill them both." The Nazi finally ordered, already grabbing the bag full of books.

However, Crowley had other plans. "In about a minute, a German bomber will release a bomb that will land right here." He gestured while dancing around. "If you all run away very, very fast, you might not die. You won't enjoy dying; you definitely won't enjoy what comes after." You nodded in agreement, almost mocking.

"You expect us to believe that ? The bombs tonight will fall on the East End." The chubbier man smirked.

"Yes. It would take a last-minute demonic intervention to throw them off course." Crowley confirmed, and you decided to play along.

"I think you're all wasting quite valuable time, dear fellows." You smirked; you couldn't admit it, but you truly hoped they wouldn't run away and would rot in Hell.

"And if, in 30 seconds, a bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friends and I to survive it." He tilted his head to the side, towards Aziraphale.

"A real miracle?" The angel stammered in response, carefully moving closer to the two of you.

"Kill them. They are very irritating."

Crowley raised his hands and pointed at the ceiling, expectingly. Suddenly, a distant rumble echoed through the darkness, growing louder and more ominous with each passing second. The ground beneath your feet trembled as if in anticipation, sending shivers down her spine. The air crackled with electricity as the sound of rushing wind filled your ears, drowning out all other noise save for the rapid beat of your heart.

With a deafening roar, the bomb plummeted towards the earth like a deadly harbinger of destruction, its descent marked by a piercing shriek that cut through the silence like a knife. As the bomb crashed into the church with a thunderous explosion, the earth shook with the force of its impact, sending shockwaves rippling through the air like ripples on a pond. Glass shattered and metal groaned in protest as the building buckled under the sheer force of the blast, the sound of crumbling masonry echoing through the night like the tolling of a funeral bell.

At an agonisingly slow pace, things settled. Your eyes had started to water, and you had instinctively closed your eyes to shelter yourself away from the bright light, the noise, and the chaos. The fear inside you was growing exponentially. It all happened in seconds. Your heartbeat was racing wildly, and your breath was shallow and erratic when you felt a person's touch. You were confused, and the person kept calling your name, but you couldn't find the strength or courage to look up and see who it was.

"Y/N..." The voice sighed, saddened by your state. Ever so gently, you found yourself enveloped in a warm embrace. You inhaled deeply the scent of the coat in which your face was buried and recognised Aziraphale. His arms encircled you with a sense of unwavering comfort and solace. Your body trembled with the aftershocks of shock, and your mind was reeling from the turmoil of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

As the angel held you close, you could feel the steady rhythm of his pristine heartbeat echoing against your ear, which was so reassuring. Crowley came closer too, but kept a distance and slowly stroked your. You felt the tension in your muscles begin to ease, the tight knot of fear slowly unravelling under the soothing touch of your friends embrace. In this cocoon, you allowed yourself to take a deep breath and process everything. You weren't used to so much action, preferring to act from afar. With each passing moment, you felt a sense of tranquilly wash over you, like a gentle tide lulling her into a state of calm surrender.

Finally, you regain composure and separate yourself from Aziraphale, while Crowley backs away. "T-Thanks..." You sniffed. The angel simply smiled warmly and kept his hand on your right arm, as if to grant you at least a bit of contact.

He then turned to Crowley. "That was very kind of you." He smiled once more and nodded thankfully.

"Shut up..." He brushed off, putting back his sunglasses, despite the darkness of the night.

"It truly was." You thanked me too. And you saw Crowley lip twitch in an apologetic pout, but you weren't mad at him; you didn't even think you would react like that. "Hey, there'll be no paperwork !" You chuckled.

Aziraphale along with you too, until he realised something. "Oh, the books!" He quickly scanned over the debris but didn't see them. "Oh, I forgot all the books !" You tried to look for the bag too, and apparently so did Crowley. "Oh, they'll all be blown away."

The demon approached us once again, the bag full of books completely untouched. Your eyes widened, and you watched the interaction with a tender gaze.

"A little demonic miracle of my own." Crowley handed it back to Aziraphale, who simply watched, dumbfounded and so, so smitten. You grinned and blushed at the rush of love you felt deep in your heart. "Lift home ?" He offered as if nothing had happened and walked over a black Bentley.

After inhaling deeply and discretely fed on the love, you gasped at the sight of the machine. "You have a car ?!" You chirped and sprinted behind Crowley, while Aziraphale stayed behind. Though the night was far from over, it started incredibly well, 'cause tonight, you'll be able to feast on a whole lot of love!

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

1967, Soho, London

In the smoky haze of the dimly lit bar, you sat perched on a bar stool, a tumbler of whisky cradled in her hand. The amber liquid glinted in the soft glow of the overhead lights, casting a warm, comforting glow over your features as you took a slow sip, savouring the burn that spread through your chest. You truly enjoyed this new pub, and particularly its name, 'The Dirty Donkey'. Yeah, it always makes your drunken laugh out loud every time you think about it.

For a fleeting moment, you felt a sense of contentment wash over her, the familiar rhythms of the bar providing a sanctuary from the chaos of the outside world. But as you glanced across the room, your gaze fell upon your dear client, Crowley, engaged in a conversation with two humans, causing you to cock a brow. They were moving to a private room, much to your surprise and honest annoyance. Thankfuly, not all your clients were desperatly trying to get themselves in trouble; expect two very specific men.

Groaning, you abandoned your glass on the counter and followed them. And yes, you had no shame in eavesdropping on people. Crowley hunched over the table, his voice low and calm as he exchanged words with the shady couple. Your brows furrowed with concern as you watched the exchange unfold, a sense of unease settling like a stone in the pit of your stomach.

"So, Spike, you're the muscles; you'll be hauling on the ropes." The demon explained it all too professionally.

"And she'll be going down on..." You didn't have time to hear the rest as you felt a presence nearing you. With a gasp, you swiftly put on the blindness, and you reprimand yourself for not thinking of it sooner. A young man walks past you and enters the room. In spite of your desire to follow him, you knew better and focused on spying.

"Who are you ?" A man spoke.

"I understand you need a locksmith." You grew even more confused. Why on Earth would Crowley need help picking up a lock?

You recognised Crowley right away. "I was expecting Mr. Narker."

"Well, Mr. Narker's passed on to his reward. I've taken over the business." The voice was the nearest; you figured it was the youngest. "He was my cellmate. He taught me everything he knew. "You rolled your eyes. Gosh, you hated when you were right.

"My name's Shadwell." You kept focusing; you needed to know what Crowley was planning.

"Please... sit down, Mr. Shadwell."

"Lance Corporal Shadwell. If you don't mind." Unbeknownst to the both of you, Crowley and you shared an unimpressed expression at the man's arrogance.

"So, what's so valuable that they're going to leave it in a church at night?" A more feminine voice inquired.  That was when the truth came crashing down on you. You closed your eyes and sighed. He was still after that god-forsaken holy water. You gritted your teeth in anger, but another emotion overtook your wrath. You truly feared for his safety, knowing that he was treading dangerously close to a path from which there might be no return.

With a sense of determination, you straightened up and marched your way out of the building. You had to talk with Aziraphale now. So, wasting no time, you strolled proudly to the angel's bookshop, which was only a few miles away, and even if it erased any trace of epicness, you rushed in.

Startled, Aziraphale's gaze shot up from his book, and he met you in a near panic. "Oh my Lord, Y/N, don't enter like that." He said it gently while putting down his book.

"Sorry, Az, but it's kind of urgent." You apologised while hurriedly floating his way. "Crowley is in trouble."

He met you half-way, sending you a wave of snowy nights. "What kind of trouble?"

"He's going to rob a church to get holy water!" You cried out, deeply worried, too.

"Oh my God, I cannot believe him!" He exclaimed angrily, still in his polite tone. You sighed and waited for a few minutes, as Aziraphale's footsteps marked the tempo of his passing. It gave you both time to consider the whole situation and what your options were. There was no way you would just stay still without doing anything. But how could you prevent him from putting himself in danger?

That's when you got an idea. It wasn't the best, and you knew you'd have to convince the angel and yourself. Swallowing thickly, you finally took a step towards him and called his name. "Aziraphale ?"

He stopped in his tracks and waited for you expectantly, thinking you had found the solution to all your problems. Your lips formed a thin line before you finally offered him your thoughts. "I know what we agreed on, but... maybe we could trust him."

"What ?" His face had lost all its colour, and he looked at you like you had lost your mind. Which was understandable.

You exhaled and put your hand on his shoulder. "Think about it. What's worse? Has he tried to get the holy water on his own, possibly getting caught or, even worse, splashing himself in the process?" You seeked his eyes to convey how much you believed in your idea.

Aziraphale almost pleaded with you with his eyes. You frowned apologies and smiled softly. You were asking for a lot; he was terrified for his life, and you had just suggested giving him a suicidal pill. However, the angel surprised you once again. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before opening his eyes. "Okay."

A few moments later, you and Aziraphale teleported to Crowley's car. You held tightly to the bottle and hid it on the ground in between your legs. Just at the same time, the demon entered his car, sitting lazily. That's when he felt your presence and turned to you, astounded. "What are you doing here?"

"We needed a word with you." Aziraphale started calmly, with a high reserve.

"What ?" He faked ignorance.

Obviously, it didn't fool you, and you rolled your eyes. "Please, we both work in London; it's hard to miss things." Crowley glanced at you from the rear mirror but didn't say anything.

"And apparently you're setting up a... caper." The angel glanced towards you too, searching for backup. "To rob a church."

You nodded and leaned forward, between their seats. "Crowley, it's too dangerous." But your friend didn't let you influence him and kept looking away.

"Holy water won't just kill your body. It will destroy you completely." Aziraphale added, dread lacing his voice.

"You told me what you think 105 years ago." He snarled lowly, exasperation in the back of his throat.

"And nothing changed." You said it serverly, gripping on the leather seat, gaining Crowley's attention as he turned towards you.

"But... we can't have you risking your life." Though you knew you should have backed out the moment you were added to the equation of 'we', you couldn't just leave. "Not even for something dangerous..." Aziraphale sighed.

"So..." You reached down to the car floor, carefully pulled out the thermos, and slowly handed it to Crowley. His hands shook as he reached to grab it, though you still held onto it.

Aziraphale swallowed thickly and eyed the bottle like a hawk. "You can call off the robbery."

Your fingers met with the demon's as you let go of the bottle. "Watch the cap. Don't unscrew it unless it's your last resort." You warned in a hush voice, afraid the cap might just pop right off it.

"It's the real thing?" Despite his glasses, you can see how incredulous his face was. He held the holy water like a bomb, ready to explode.

"The holiest." Aziraphale was incredibly stiff, and he kept leaning away.

"After everything you said..." he whispered, unable to wrap his mind around the idea of the both of you giving in. "Should I say thank you?"

"Better not..." You smiled.

"Well, can I drop you anywhere?"

"No. Thank you.." Crowley pouted; he really wanted to do something for Aziraphale, but he kept being so stubborn. "Oh, don't look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could... I don't know." He smiled thoughtfully. "Go for a picnic." He then glanced at you, truly hoping you would accept his next offer. "Dine at the Ritz." He shrugged. You looked down; maybe you were the stubborn one after all.

But Crowley insisted. "I'll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go."

"You go too fast for me, Crowley." Really ? Like, really? You sighed and roughly leaned back on the seat. Aziraphale didn't waste any more time and slipped out without saying another word.

But you could see past the facade of bravado the vulnerability that lurked beneath the surface of Crowley's neutral exterior. So, you reached out to him, making a silent plea for him to not give up. You knew that no matter how fiercely Aziraphale resisted, he would always be there by his side, despite how much he wanted to pull away.

For your part, you stayed, feeling a kind of pull urging you to do so. After spending some time in silence, Crowley spoke up. "Need a life, sweetheart?"

You chuckled and sat back up. "Please..." You observed the wheel for a few seconds before chirping, interrupting his movements. "Can I drive?" You used your big, charming smile.

Crowley glanced your way for a few minutes, contemplating the idea before shrugging. "Sure." He opened his door to switch places. You grinned mischievously and grabbed the stirring wheel tightly.

"I'll give it to you fast, boy." You said that and started the engine. Pray for Crowley's poor heart.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

2000, Aziraphale's bookshop, London

On your way to meeting Aziraphale and Crowley, you couldn't help but giggle like a little child. You skipped through London, avoiding flying and frightening the sweet baby creature snuggled against my chest. You didn't know such an adorable thing could ever exist, but humans were always full of wonderful surprises! You squeezed your way through the crowd on the busy side walk before finally catching a glimpse of the angel's bookshop.

"Almost there, baby!" You cooed with a big smile and felt her squirm against you. You hurried to cross the street and forcefully pushed the door open with your shoulder. The bell rang loudly, which brought your friends attention to you. Crowley was sitting on the couch, well, more like his body was thrown carelessly on it, whereas Aziraphale was nicely sitting on his big, comfy chair and holding a small device in his hand.

Crowley threw his head back to look at you. "Happy new milenial." He joked with scoff. You smiled brightly and floated towards them, not far away from the ground but enough to not walk down the stairs.

"Hello..." You sang and giggled again until I landed next to the couch. You squeezed the little bundle of joy into your arms. Aziraphale cocked a brow, amused.

"What do you have here, dear?" He smirked, curious. Crowley sat up and looked at you, intrigued as well.

"Oh... nothing..." You chuckled, giggling. Scanning the room for a place to sit, you notice a brand new big divan, which you had never noticed before. "Well, this is new."

Aziraphale got up and took the place next to you. "Indeed, it is." He laughed softly. "It's for you." You looked at him, showing him your disbelief.

"Aw, really?" You asked while approaching the grey van. It had a back, so you didn't have to just lie on it, and it looked really squishy too. You sat down on it and smiled brightly. "Oh, this is great! Thank you.."

The angel dismissed your gratitude with a small gesture. "No need to thank me, dear. "You'd simply like a place to sit on your own."

You smiled gently at him before Crowley spoke up. "What kind of animal is that?" He titled his head to the blanket in your arms as he gave off strong aromas of curiosity and... endermant?

You brushed it off and inhaled deeply. "Gentlemen..." You started trying to set the ambiance. Both of them leaned slightly. "Let me present to you... Eden!" You exclaimed wildly and took off the blanket, reaveling your new baby white dexter mini cow in all her cuteness. She mowed softly as you put her down. She was extremely tiny, with her white coat, black ears, and snoot.

"Oh..." Aziraphale cooed, and you could smell how smitten he was already with her. "She is precious." He affirmed.

Crowley gave off the same scent but still tried to keep up his mocking exterior. "Wow, that's where mini hambergers meat comes from." He teased, his uncovered eyes sparkling with mischief.

You gasped loudly, fakely offended, and went to cover her ears. "Shh, you fool ! She might hear you." Eden mooed and nudged your arm. "I know, baby, he's a meanie." You cooed and kissed her forehead.

"Damn right." He laughed and caressed the mini cow's fur.

"Right, you are absolutely dreadful." Aziraphale rolled his eyes, mocking the gentle behaviour of his friend. Crowley growled but didn't retort anything. "

"Really, you would do that ?" You smiled brightly, earning a chuckle from the angel.

"Of course, you spend so much time here; it would be cruel to leave that poor creature all alone." He tilted his head to the side, inviting you to follow him.

Aziraphale opened a door, right behind all the shelves, in the hidden parts of the bookshop. The room was dusty and crammed with books and antics, from the ground to the ceiling. And despite the library in itself, it was the largest room the bookshop had.

"We'll just put all that into other rooms and upstairs."

You turned to Azirphale, who was making grand movements to explain his whole plan. "It would be its personal stable. He smiled from ear to ear. It truly warmed your heart to see him so involved.

Crowley was leaning against the door frame, holding Eden to his chest. You spotted him and cooed mockingly. "Aren't you a sweetheart?"

He scoffed while petting Eden's head. "Nah, that's your job."

You pursed your lips into a bashful smile before an idea popped into my mind. "Oh, I never thought of what a cow might eat !" You exclaimed, outraged at your ignorance.

"Don't worry, dear, I'm sure I have a book about it somewhere." Aziraphale was reassured, already leaving the room to find it.

You sighed in relief and followed right behind him. It took some time, but you eventually found it and walked back towards the room, leafing through the book. The two of you came to a sudden stop. Everything that was previously in the room was lying on the ground. Aziraphale let out an offended gasp.

"Crowley ?" You called out, midway concerned and amused. "I'm not sure that's how you tidy a room."

The angel was the first to open the door abruptly and stop just as fast. You pressed yourself against him to see what happened to the room. Your eyes widened, your heart quickening, and your eyes flashed pink. "Wow..."

The room, if you still call it that, had enormously enlarged. So much that it actually had an horizon. In the seemingly soft glow of dawn, the meadow unfurled like a tapestry woven with a myriad of colors. Dew-kissed grasses shimmered with a silvery sheen as they swayed gently in the early morning breeze. A symphony of bird songs filled the air, weaving melodies that danced among the fragrant blooms.

Clusters of wildflowers adorned the landscape, painting the meadow a kaleidoscope of hues. Sun-kissed daisies nodded their heads in greeting, and their cheerful faces turned towards the rising sun. Delicate lavender blossoms released their sweet, intoxicating fragrance, mingling with the earthy scent of fresh grass and damp soil.

Water streams meandered lazily through the meadow, their crystal-clear waters glinting in the golden light. They carved sinuous paths among the greenery, creating small, tranquil pools where dragonflies darted and frogs sang their morning serenades. Butterflies flitted from flower to flower, their delicate wings shimmering like stained glass in the sunlight. Bees hummed busily, collecting nectar from the blooms and adding their gentle buzz to the symphony of nature's orchestra.

The ceiling—no, the sky—wasn't entirely blue, but it reminded you of a gentle summer morning. Just the softest warmth. We slowly walked into the landscape, afraid to disrupt it. The thick grass felt mellow under your feet, and you couldn't resist kicking off your shoes to feel it yourself. Aziraphale chuckles, joining the sweet sounds of birds and the running water.

"This is amazing !" You laughed in disbelief and utter joy, twirling around, taking in everything this beautiful place had to offer. The ground was now the last thing on your mind, and you took off in the air, floating around like a cherub.

"I can't believe Crowley did all this in such a short amount of time." Aziraphale backed up, caressing the petals of a Jack Rose.

You chuckled and floated in a circle around him. "Where do you think he is ?" Your eyes scanned the area, and you spotted him beyond a field of yarrows, answering your own question. "There ! C'mon !" You landed abruptly next to Aziraphale and took his arm, hurrying him to climb up the small hill.

Crowley was sitting underneath a tree that bore the colours of a pink cherry tree, but the lazy branches resembled those of a weeping willow. Eden quiet moos caused you to smile and rush the final feet, seperating you from the two of them. The demon smiled almost smugly at your arrival, and you responded with a bright grin.

"This incredible..." You panted a bit and roughly let yourself fall on your back, on the grass. Aziraphale chuckled and miracled a blanket under the four of you. A comfortable hum came out instinctively, and you completely laid on the ground. With a happy coo, Eden waddled her way and rested her head on your stomach. Aziraphale sat down as well, crossed his legs, and congratulated Crowley on his work.

"Now, this is a wonderful place to have a picnic." Aziraphale sighed and rested back on his arms. You chuckled and laid down on the blanket. Eden's weight left a comfortable pressure on your chest. Staring at the sunny sky through the pink brenches of the tree, the scent of heliotrope embraces your entire being.

You never knew what heliotrope was meant to represent, despite how many times you asked Mihael about its meaning. All she ever gave you as an answer was a cheeky smile and a shrug. So, you didn't ask further. And right now, all you wanted to do was bask in the scent and never leave this meadow.

Or its inhabitants. For anything in the world.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

There... Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to sleep U,w,U

Hope you liked it, I put extra details for you to enjoy ! Now let's hope Y/N | Balael will be and about in the next chapter, 'cause they're running out of time ;)

And if they're any errors like a lot 'I's instead of 'You's please let me know ^^

Bye bye !

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

Taglist : @legendary-maddie @kpop-athena @drugs-for-memes @emo-queer-boi @cunning-girl @mochikofi @brain-has-left @cup-of-tee007  @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek  @somekale08 @liyacreate @msyolocat-blog  @scoliobean  @notahappystan  @nebulagoddess @mxxny-lupin  @bluebear19  @yvonneeeee   @kniselle  @dmitrytherat @lookingforlifeoutthere @neenieweenie @lunalixya @socksandaslide @planetaryperson @kaillou66 @elleofdragons @rust-in-polar1s @who-goopy-goober @shadowluna25 @m1r-rored @sebs-oxygen @lieutenantlashfaz @a-winged-dreamer @keira-kaz2y5 @redsakura101 @captain-winter-wolf-aehs @cantdothis-nomore @yeeteth-the-raven

[lauriegraham01]

violent delights & violent ends

pairings: crowley x angel!reader, gn!reader (aziracrow x reader if you squint)

summary: having stood through the testaments of time, as Heaven and Hell's forces and anger grow closer every day, you and Crowley must both make a choice but what fateful consequences lie in store for star-crossed lovers

cw: hurt/comfort, lotta hurt tho, angst,

wc: 4.5k

a/n: UPDATED ON 9/23!!!! inspo came from a dream, romeo + juliet, and 'romeo' by until the ribbon breaks. working on a masterlist currently and hope to get it up soon. tysm for your support and enjoy :)

The party was in full swing and you found yourself getting lost within the noise of William Shakespeare's famous parties. You were currently backstage in one of the parlors where you, Crowley, and Aziraphale had joined Shakespeare and his fellow actors and other socialites in celebrating another successful opening night.

"I mean it, William. You are just absolutely brilliant, I mean you're ability to capture human emotion and spirit, well it's just marvelous!" Aziraphale had spent the better half of the night praising the poet as he truly felt starstruck by his talent.

"Yea, yea the blokes alright. You should've seen him when he was just starting out, now the bastard his own theatre." Crowley sneered as they took another sip of the mead they carried in their hand.

"He's more than alright, you can admit that. He's quite the poet." You look at them with an amused smirk as though daring them to disagree.

" 'O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art as glorious to this night', trust me love, I would not be here had you and Aziraphale put up such a fight," the demon recites almost mockingly.

"Now look who's the poet?"

"Enjoying ourselves are we dear?" Aziraphale shakes you from your thoughts as he appears before you and Crowley sort of breathless.

"Seems like you are, Angel," Crowley quips back.

"Oh just marvelous really. The talent that the Almighty has given some of these actors is just beyond words! I've even been invited to the opera to see one actor perform! Oh, I do believe I see "Mercutio" across the room. Excuse me- Mercutio!"

As Aziraphale makes his way back into the crowd of stifled bodies, you turn your head back to peer at Crowley as they take a seat onto a plush red velvet couch. Sinking into the couch, they spreads their legs open wide, almost invitingly.

"The opera? I like the sound of that." Eyebrows raising, creasing their forehead as they peer at you through dark glasses. With a free hand they tap their thigh, inviting you in. You happily take it as you make yourself comfortable upon it, head falling upon their shoulder.

"You know what I like the sound of? Silence. I do believe that I am beginning to overstay my welcome," you sigh tiredly as you study the side of their face. Finding your eyes tracing the tattooed snake just beside their ear.

"Oh come on, what are you talking about? The fun's just barely begun. Plus I've heard rumors of what really goes on in Will's study, if you know what I mean," their hold on you becomes tighter as they wiggles their eyebrows suggestively.

"Crowley, c'mon be serious," you protested.

"I am! You're gonna tell me that doesn't peak even the tiniest bit of your interest?"

"What? No. Crowley, I mean it. I'm heading back home, need to step away for the night."

The demon fully turns their face to look at you for a second and as they look into your tired eyes, they let out a sigh, defeated that only you could make them change their mind and make them bend in ways they never though possible. Defeated that you were their soft spot.

"Alright, let's go love," they sigh as they pull the both of you onto your feet. Taking a hold of your hand, they guide you through the crowd as the two of you make your way outside of the theatre and back onto the streets of London. You knew Aziraphale would be fine on his own, as he had no intention of his ending his night anytime soon, thoroughly enjoying himself in the presence of talented artists. Crowley maintained an arm wrapped around your shoulder as the two of you walked on cobblestone until the bookshop finally came into view.

"Home sweet home," Crowley announces as the two of you make your way inside the dimly lit bookshop. Taking your coat off, you blow out the remaining candles that had been lit prior to your departure and made your way upstairs to your bedroom. You heard Crowley trailing not too far behind, and as you make your way into your bedroom you look behind to see them leaning against the doorframe.

"You can come in Crowley, you know that." You softly smile as you find their sheepish behavior rather odd.

"Nah i'm good, I was thinkin' of taking off. Just wanted to make sure you were alright s'all."

Having known Crowley since the dawn of creation, you knew when they were deceiving you.

"Crowley?"

"Hmm?"

"Come inside, dear."

"Well alright, I mean if you insist," the demon blows a puff of air before making their way inside, shutting the door behind them.

They made themself comfortable as you got dressed for bed. You felt Crowley's eyes burning on you with your every move, and the fact alone made heat creep its way up your face. Turning to face them again, you saw them burrowed beneath the multiple blankets that draped your bed. Making your way beneath them, you slide in beside Crowley but still left enough roof to distance the two of you.

"Any particular reason you're so far?" The demon quips as their yellow eyes quizzingly look into yours.

"Didn't know if you wanted me to be that close."

"You know me better than anyone, y/n. You know the distance never made a difference to me, love." With that they pull you closer until you're engulfed in their body heat as you remained pressed against their side.

It wasn't unusual for you and the demon to be close like this, in fact in ways it was one of the reasons your bond with each other was so strong. Crowley, for better or for worse, craved physical touch. Having been deprived of it in their time in Hell, the only time they ever felt the touch of another is when pain and violence would be awaiting on the other side of it. With you it was different, it was their way of demonstrating emotions where words failed him. Most days it would be small things like a hand placed on the small of your back, or their hand laying gently on your knee whenever you sat near, but tonight it was different. By the way they had been handsy all night and with the distant look in their eyes as they stared up at the ceiling, you knew something was up.

"Crowley?"

"Hmm," they hum back in acknowledgement, eyes still fixed on the ceiling.

"What's on your mind?"

Crowley remains still for a minute, holding in a breath of ancient dread as they pondered over how to encapsulate the overwhelmingly conflicting emotions they were feelings, emotions they've felt since the Fall.

"S'nothing, you just get some sleep," they mutter, hoping to whisk away your concern as a way of sparing them from having to confront their emotions.

"Crowley..."

"Y/n?"

"I know when you're lying to me. I can sense that your mind is elsewhere, talk to me."

You pull back from where you laid and propped yourself up on your elbow, in order to fully look at him. Raising your other hand you softly run it through their locks before hooking a hand underneath their chin, turning their face to look at you.

"I'm here," you whisper.

Crowley's eyes search yours and they're met with nothing but adoration. The twinkle of the very stars they've created were nothing but a pale comparison to the light of hope that glimmered in your eyes. The light that no matter how hard they tried to run from, they always found themself running home to.

"It's the torment."

"From?"

"From the fall. Seems silly to dwell on something so ancient, but those demons, that torture..." their voice wavers as dread aches through their spine, "i guess it never really goes away."

Words die on your lips as your heartaches for the pain Crowley's been through. They never talked about what torture awaited for them in Hell after the Fall, but as an angel you could only imagine the suffering that was Crowley's fate.

You hadn't realized how silent you had been until Crowley shifts to sit upright. Mirroring their actions you move to face them and you see the way they try to hide from you as Crowley buries their face within their hands.

"Crowley, I understand I won't ever know what you feel, but one thing I do know is that you don't deserve to live in that pain. Something so vast as the darkness of the universe before you illuminated it with your creation." You gently wrap your hands around their wrists and pull them away to reveal Crowley's eyes reddened from silent tears.

"Let me walk with you, in that darkness."

"You could get lost in it," they shake their head, sniffling as they feel vulnerable by the transparency of their emotions.

"Then let me be lost in it, as long as I'm lost with you." You brush their hair back before your hands softly caress the side of their face.

"It would be your sin, I would be your sin." Crowley's hands creep their way up to your side as they hold onto you tightly, afraid you would realize the wickedness that lies within them and leave in disgust. The space between you and Crowley had shrunk as your foreheads pressed together. Your eyes never left theirs as the pain behind their serpent eyes sought refuge in you. You could feel their warm breath fanning over your lips, and for just a second you dare to move your gaze to look at his lips. Lips that looked so soft and tempting to draw you in. You didn't miss the way Crowley had also flickered to look at yours as well, so when your eyes meet again you felt a certain clarity wave afront as the feelings for the demon you held in your hands could no longer be buried.

"If sin be from thy lips then thus with a kiss I die."

Your words fall as a whispered prayer onto Crowley's ear as you close the spaces between and capture their lips into a soft kiss. After overcoming initial shock, Crowley's lips moved with yours in something so sweet as a sacrament. Yet that sweetness quickly turned into hunger as they kissed back fiercely, hungry for more and you were willing to be devoured whole. The burning within your lungs became too strong and you pulled away. Resting your forehead against Crowley's, as you both caught your breath you look into their eyes and see the mischievous light that you had sorely missed.

"You're in for it this time, love. A whole new world of sin," Crowley rasped lowly, as a wicked smile grew on their face.

"Very well then, give me my sin again."

It's been 423 years since that fateful night that would change the trajectory of Crowley and yours relationship forever. You loved each other in secret, while finding freedom in your relationship on Earth, both of you still feared the consequences you would face if either of your sides caught wind of the true nature of your relationship. It seemed that your relationship only got better with time, Armageddon was a testament of that. With the help of Aziraphale, the two of you managed to prevent a destructive war between Heaven and Hell, and remained living on Earth amongst the crowds of humans whose lives had been spared by your hands. Yet, despite this somewhat happy ending, Crowley knew that the fight wasn't over just.

"If you would just listen to me for once y/n, you would see that we are in danger."

"You're being irrational, Crowley. There is no war!"

Your voice had gone raw from how long you and Crowley had been screaming at each other. Crowley was trying to convince you that Heaven and Hell were conspiring and would be back for their revenge, and soon. You however were stuck in your stubbornness and were determined that their was no danger in sight.

Even with their shades on, you could feel the intensity of Crowley's glare as they stared back at you wide-eyed in disbelief that you could be this blind. Pacing the kitchen floor of his apartment, they pinched the bridge of their nose, trying to calm themselves down even though it felt it was useless.

"Y/n, listen to me," they say lowly, "you, Aziraphale, and I are in trouble. The longer we spend on Earth the longer we walk around with a target on our backs waiting to be killed."

"Crowley please, enough of this," you wave your arms impatiently as you pleaded with them with desperate eyes.

Crowley walks across the kitchen island and stand in front of you, holding your arms tightly within his grasp.

"Come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me. We can leave this place while we still have a chance. We can travel amongst the universe and settle down on any other planet. We can have a new start, turn a new page."

"Crowley, we're fine. I promise there is no danger he-"

"No, but you're wrong y/n, because there is!"

You flinch at the boom of their voice as their hands tighten around you. Fear flashing your eyes as you let out a sharp hiss from their tight grip that burned your skin.

"Crowley! Stop, you're scaring me." You manage to free yourself from their grasp. Breathing heavily, you stare at them frozen in fear, unable to recognize Crowley for the first time.

Crowley's faced drop and seeing the fear that they had instilled in you made their body slack and and a weighted dread sink into their stomach. Averting your eyes as you rubbed over the spots where they once held you, they could feel their heart break. The very hands that they swore to use to protect you, had been the same ones to hurt you. As you hesitated to look back up at the demon, when your eyes met and you saw the inner turmoil within their serpent eyes, you imagined the darkness that Crowley's mind was spiring down upon.

"Crowley I-"

"Don't." They stumble backwards distancing themself, afraid of what else they might do, afraid of hurting you again.

Crowley never meant to hurt you, and deep down you knew this. You two had your fair share of arguments over the course of millenniums but they never once lost control of their emotions and hurt you in the way they just did. Even as Crowley heard your thoughts, reassuring them that they weren't wicked and a danger, it wasn't enough. You knew the risks of being with a demon, and they were always afraid that one day you'd decide that being with them was a mistake and that you'd walk out of their life forever. And now, seeing you in this light, seeing that he hurt you and could hurt you, that scared them more than anything.

"There are somethings that'll never change."

Crowley swiftly made way for the door, feeling the walls of the apartment closing in on them. The shouts of Crowley's name as you quickly followed them fell on deaf ears. You're meet with the pouring rain as you follow Crowley outside into the driveway, the lightning being the only thing illuminating the night sky. The growing rolls of thunder seemed to match your quickened heartbeat as your anxiety grew with Crowley's distancing stride.

"Crowley, please!" Your voice comes out strained as you desperately cry out to Crowley. Opening the drivers side, Crowley stiffens as though fighting with themself to stay or go. Looking back at you, their red locks clinging to their face as their face scrunched in anguish, heart breaking more as they saw the pained look on your face.

"As long as you're with me, you will always be in danger."

The memory of Crowley driving away and leaving you behind replayed in your mind all throughout the night. Flashing days and sleepless nights passed as Crowley consumed your thoughts, unable to hide from the pain that their absence caused. This being the farthest things escalated in your relationship, you clung onto hope that there was a way to come back from this. That Crowley would come back and you could find a way to move past this together.

As days turned into weeks, you felt the hope that once burned so brightly begin to snuff out into smoke as you faced the probable reality that Crowley would never return and that you were left on your own. Well not completely on your own. After noticing how silent things had been from you and Crowley, Aziraphale decided to check in. Unaware of the mess that he would stumble upon, he felt blindsided from the state of things, heart broken too in the wake of Crowley's absence. Yet, seeing your severely distressed state, the angel put his emotions aside in order to attend to you. He took you within his care, hoping to help bring the light back in your eyes and comfort you until Crowley could come back.

Padding down the wooden hallway floors, you rub the fatigue of another sleepless night from your eyes as Aziraphale's door comes into view. Pressing an ear against the door, you found the silence on the other side of the door rather odd as he was usually up by this hour. Knocking lightly against the wooden door, you await to hear a stir yet when you get no response, you open the door to make your way in. Walking inside, the sleeping frame of Aziraphale's body come into view as he begins to stir from the noise of your intrusion.

"Y/N? Is everything alright, dear?" The angels voice come out raspy, fresh from sleep.

"Yea, i'm okay," you croak out, voice weary.

He looks at you for a moment, curious as to your sudden intrusion, not that he was bothered but that it was out of character for you to come to him so early in the day. With slow movements, Aziraphale slowly rises from bed, tightening the robe around himself as he made his way to the window. With a tug, the suns rays engulf the room as it casts its warm light throughout the space. Aziraphale closes his eyes, as though in silent gratitude prayer, and basks in the suns warmth. Looking at him, you can't help but feel a stillness in his beauty, especially with the way the sunlight illuminates his face and casts a celestial orange glow around him. Making him look even more angelic if that were even possible.

"But soft, what light through yonder window breaks," Aziraphale breaks the silence, opening his eyes and turning to face you.

"It is the east, and Crowley is the sun."

"You would deprive that from the Almighty herself?" Smiling brightly, you don't miss the way Aziraphale teases you for your endearing words. You find small comfort in his childish tease and bright smile, not being able to help the way your lips tug upwards at his remark. Aziraphale relishes in the small happiness that flashes across your face, even if brief. It had hurt him to see his love in pain especially at the hand of someone he too loved. Looking back to the window, he finds himself getting lost gazing into the crowded streets of Soho beneath him. A silence settles over the two of you, and your eyes remained fix on his side profile as the emptiness of the gravity of your situation creeps back into your mind.

"Crowley's not coming back." It was you who broke the silence this time, Aziraphale turning to you taken aback with furrowed eyebrows by how matter-of-factly you spoke.

"What ever do you mean?"

"I mean they're gone," you inhaled sharply, "for good this time."

"Well no, not really. I'm sure they'll come back, you know how Crowley gets." Aziraphale. Ever the optimist until the very end.

"Aziraphale-"

"You've always known how dramatic they can be I mean really-"

"Aziraphale-" you call out, his optimism making your wounds bleed even more at the false promises of an angel.

"Look, it's only a matter of time before Crowley walks through that door and everything will be as-"

"Aziraphale!" Your voice angrily booms like a roll of thunder as it bounces off the bedroom walls.

"They're not coming back! Aren't they?!"

Despite your volume, it was your tone that cut like a knife. Even as your voice felt so shaky, you spat those words out like venom that laid bitterly on your tongue. Aziraphale could feel his heart break as he stared into your eyes. Red and puffy from fighting to keep your emotions at bay, but also cold and unwavering as you forced yourself to come to the crossroads of the truth.

"No," he says barely above a whisper, a slight tremble in his voice as he barely shakes his head. "No, i'm afraid not my dear."

You've never seen Aziraphale look so defeated. So hopeless as he stared back into your lifeless eyes. The air around you feels restricted as your throat tightens. Your lips quiver as the painful truth of your beloved angels words echo in your head and settle in your heart. Your vision blurs as tears begin to welt in your eyes before inevitably cascading down your cheeks. Aziraphale then wraps his arms around you, pulling you in a tight embrace as you collapse within his arms. Sobs muffled from where your head laid buried in his chest, the world going silent as an insurmountable wave of grief washes over you, pulling you to drown in a sea of sorrow.

You don't know how long you cried for or even how much time had passed. When you came out of your daze, you realized that you and Aziraphale were on the floor as he pressed soft kisses against your temple, hoping to reel you back into reality.

"Forgive me," you croak, voice spent from lament, "i've been lonely, but it's not like I don't know my way." You try to reassure Aziraphale and yourself as you felt hollowed. Guilt also eating at you for putting the angel in this situation, having to take care of you.

"You have nothing to be forgiven for, my dear" he whispers lowly into your ear. Taking the hands that were wrapped tightly around you, he brings them up to caress your face within them. Your tears have dried by now but that doesn't stop him from peppering tender kisses upon your cheeks. Overwhelmed by his soft touch, you feel your face heat up again as the gentle sentiment causes your emotions to arise again. When he feels a salty tear catch upon his lip, he pulls away to see your glossy eyes staring back into his, searching for some kind of relief.

"But I don't know my way, Aziraphale."

The angel remained at your side for the rest of the day, never leaving you alone for a moment longer than absolutely needed. As he aided to your every need and treated you like a fine china plate- afraid to drop you and shatter into a million pieces. And for a while it helped, it made the pain more bearable, the ache of Crowley's absence less debilitating- but even all of Aziraphale's love wouldn't be enough to ix the hole that Crowley left in your life.

You thought hard about your next move. Calculating everything over in your head a million times but all roads led you back to where you were now. Managing to slip out of the Aziraphale's bedroom in the middle of the night, you made your way back to your original bedroom where you were now packing frantically. You packed as much as you could into your suitcase as you grew restless, wanting nothing more than to run away from this emptiness you fear you would never escape from.

As you left your suitcase by the stairwell, you looked down the hall before quietly making your way back to Aziraphale's room. Once inside, you made sure to leave behind the note that you had written for him on the side where you usually laid. You burn the image of his sleeping frame into your mind, wanting your last memory of the angel to be one where he seemed at peace. Leaning across the bed, you place a soft kiss upon the corner of his mouth, careful not to wake him. He stirred slightly beneath your touch, but still remained in a deep sleep even as you pulled away.

Making way for the bedroom door, you freeze under the entranceway.

"Look back, look back," you thought to yourself, a voice of reason wanting to make itself hear. Despite this, you fought against it and forced one foot in front of the other, because you knew if you looked back you would never leave. The cold air greets you as you make your way out into the streets of Soho, winds blowing harshly as you toss your bag into the backseat of your car. As the engine roars to life and you pull onto the main road, you glance at the rearview mirror where the bookshop fades from view. Silently saying goodbye to the place that had too also become home for you. You don't know exactly where you were headed, but just that you were ready to get there. Ready to go, but never to return.

The next morning, Aziraphale finds himself sitting on the edge of the bed where he gripped the white sheets, frustration and heartache threatening to drown him as he re-read your letter line for line, over and over and over again.

"Dearest Aziraphale,

My love, I'm sorry for the mess I've left for you to clean, it was unfair to you given your own heartbreak. Azira, I cannot thank you enough for what you've done for me now and in the past. But now I must go my own way and figure out what to write in this next chapter for myself. I know things will be difficult for if they weren't... well you see I would've killed Romeo and saved Juliet, but I don't write stories that time won't forget. So please angel, forgive me for grabbing the kerosene and letting it all burn to the ground. I've been looking for meaning, I don't know if I like what I've found. Forgive me for I've been lonely and one day I hope to tell you that I now know my way. I'm sorry. "

[masivechaos]

YOU'LL DO GREAT

steven meeks x gn! reader

Request: yes / no

see the request here!

Synopsis: Meeks helps you recite your lines for an upcoming theatre audition.

Warning/content: kiss, fluff, idk anything about theatre, my English & quick proofreading

a.n.: 0.6k words- welton au where there're both girls and boys! reader is playing a female character in the play (queen tiania from Midsummer Night's Dream) but reader themselves is not gendered!!

masterlist/ dead poets society masterlist / navigation

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

It didn’t matter how many times you’d done this, you were always nervous. You were able to play in front of a full theatre but reciting lines in front of your boyfriend was intimidating.

“These are the forgeries of jealousy: and never, since the middle summer’s spring, met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead-” you stopped, forgetting what was next when you met Steven’s eyes.

“What?” you asked with a smile. Meeks was looking at you softly, your text between his hands.

He let out a chuckle “Nothing, go on, Y/n.” His lips were tugged up, amused but you chose to ignore it, you had to learn your lines as quickly as possible.

“Met we on hill, in dale, forest or mead,” you continued, “by paved fountain or by rushy brook, or in the beached margent of the sea, to dance our ringlets to the whistling wind, but with thy brawls thou hast disturb’d our sport.”

You tried your best to put feelings and intonations into it, making Shakespeare’s words real for a second and Meeks was watching you, amazed by the way you let your emotions get you.

But it only took you a glance at the ginger boy to break character, an annoyed smile finding your lips “Steven!”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Yes, you did! You keep staring at me!”

Meeks let out a chuckle “Well yeah, why would I look away?”

You groaned before trying to continue your lines “Therefore the winds, piping to us in vain, as in revenge, have suck’d up from the sea, contagious fogs; which falling in the land have every pelting river made so proud that they have overborne their continents.”

You went on and on, sometimes stuttering or forgetting some words that Meeks would remind you of. When you were done, you let out a long sigh “It was good!” Meeks said enthusiastically but you couldn’t agree.

“No…”

“For a first try, it was!” Meeks was always encouraging and supporting you. No matter what you were doing, he was there cheering you.

You pouted your lips and Meeks could only get off your bed to come by your side “You were good, honey,” he said, wrapping his arms around you.

You let your head rest against his shoulder “I’m scared I’ll fail. This audition is important for me, what if I mess this up?”

“You won’t mess this up. You’ll do great… as always!” he smiled at you before gently kissing your lips “We’ll work on this together and you'll pass this audition.”

You laugh at his enthusiasm, feeling already a little reassured. You settled your head in the crook of neck “Thank you Steven,” you whispered, your hand playing with the hair on his nape.

He hummed contently in the embrace, kissing the crown of your head. You both stayed in each other’s arms as comfortable silence settle in your dorm, the only sound existing being the muffled song of the birds outside.

After a few minutes you decided to go back to learning your lines. With the help of your boyfriend, you were able to recite your lines more and more fluidly, putting more and more emotion into them. When you decided you were done for today, you laid down on your bed, Meeks joining you quickly, his head resting on your chest, you fingers playing with his red curls.

You let yourself relax under the weight of his body, closing your eyes. The stress of your upcoming audition left your mind for an instant. By Meeks’ side you never had to worry.

“Thank you for helping me,” you murmured.

Meeks lifted his head, looking into your eyes dreamily “Your welcome, darling,” he said before pressing your lips against yours “You’ll do great, I know it.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

⋆ ★ steven meeks taglist: @moonlitmeeks @toindeedbeag0d @juneberrie @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @spookydarkwitch @duxpuella @imshiningjustforyou @kieracassette @vancitycharlie @oncasette @dori-and-gray @maddipoof

[nachofuck3r]

ɴᴇɪʟ ꜱᴀᴍꜱᴏɴ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ꜱᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀɴ)

If you haven’t seen doggie heaven I implore you not to do it 😭😭

Shortfilm summary below cut for context:

basically Leigh Whannells character ends up in dog heaven by mistake and legit gets VIOLATED by a dog. (James Wan- editing in those squelching sounds, you belong in jail)

Contents: attempted r*pe by a dog, but otherwise comfort and fluff

In this version you also end up in dog heaven by mistake, just in time to safe Neil Samson.

You don’t exactly know how you landed here, but what you know for certain is that it’s bright.

Your eyes take forever to adjust to the misty light all around you.

Maybe that should’ve been the first indicator to, what place you’ve found yourself in.

As you start wandering you soon stumble upon a dog toy, after that small hills of various shoes.

It’s certainly bizarre and made you truly question which person you pissed off to have landed in an eternity of white light and dog toys.

Not soon after you meet the residents themselves.

The excitement of the discovery blew over relatively quickly, you liked dogs well enough.

Throwing various sticks, pretending to take their favorite shoes from them and giving them belly rubs - seemed to be your occupation for a while.

You even try to name a few, not like it mattered - you soon lost track of who is who. And the dogs seem to always wander themselves, some even only ever showing up once.

It felt like days had passed, you were seemingly not becoming hungry in this limbo, so you hadn't resigned yourself to eating the only source of food here. Not long after staying in the same few places you decide to wander further. Becoming extremely fed up with the same old same old.

After a while you found yourself amidst a small horde of playing dogs. They yip at you as you walk past but despite a few ear scratches they are left behind to keep playing.

Soon you are wandering through a vastness of worn leather couches.

The staple of a dogs forbidden yet favorite resting place.

But you get thrown out of your thoughts by the unmistakable sound of a whimper.

As you strain your eyes to spot the source your gaze lands on a man laying on a couch. In a rather precarious position under a dog.

What in the actual fuck?!

You have little time to think, you run over, pull the large dog off the poor sod.

The dog growls briefly but you take a dog toy out of your pocket. You make sure the dog is focused on the toy before throwing it into the cloudiness surrounding you. It runs after the flying object, soon disappearing from your view.

Turning to face the man who rapidly has pulled up his pants, a shocked expression painting his, steadily paling face.

“Holy Shit. Are you okay?” You press out, trying to steadily check him over without touching him.

“Yeah, all peachy” he says and you give him a look that reflects your disbelief, he slightly cringes as he rubs his neck.

“That was a lot” he whispers, a small broken sob leaving him as he seems to break in on himself.

You reach out a hand, silently asking if you can hold him.

You don’t get an answer just him crashing into you, clinging onto you as if you were to disappear.

Immediately excepting the touch, you resign yourself to caressing his back. Letting him press his face into your shoulder as he sobs.

You coo at him, slowly whispering small strings of ‘it’s okay’ and ‘cry as much as you need’ . Just wanting him to know you are here.

You both are placed a bit awkwardly like that on the couch for a while. But you don’t mind since the leather you lean against is soft and sort of comforting.

After what feels like a long while he pulls back, his nose is a bit runny as well as his eyes are red.

He tries to wipe his face with his shirt but you click your tongue, pulling out a small pack of tissues, silently thanking whatever entity brought you here that you got to keep it.

“Here” you pull two tissues out and he gratefully takes them. After cleaning himself up a little you try to create a little distance between you but he almost as if panicked. Grasps you thigh to stop you.

“Sorry” he says wide eyed, a bit shocked at his own reaction. But you give him a small smile going back to sitting a bit closer to him.

“It’s okay, I know this is weird to ask but, where are we?”

“Dog heaven” that’s all you get

“Oh my god so we’re dead?” You whisper a bit shocked, you speculated about it but to hear it aloud was still shocking

“Basically, I was shot”

“Holy f*ck. Are you in pain or do you need, I mean how do you-“ I ramble a bit but he shakes his head, dispersing your worries.

“No, it was just a dumb mistake” he hangs his head a bit then eyes you. Up and down.

“How did we end up in dog heaven?”

“Fuck if I know, but it’s not too bad here” he answers fiddling with a lose string on his pants.

“Well I am glad you’re here” you say, truly relieved another human being here.

He spares you another look a small smile on his face.

“I’m Neil by the way” he says his hand twitches not sure if a hand shake would be appropriate in this situation

You give him your own name and rubbing your hands on your own jeans not trusting them to not be clammy.

“So, what do you do in here? How long have you been here?”

“I don’t know I feel like a few days maybe” that’s not too bad, probably a lot similar to your own predicament.

“You’re the first other person I’ve meet” he utters out his hand fumbling with the hem of his shirt.

“Gods this will sound so weird but can I touch you?” he asks not meeting your gaze

Well that does sound weird but also a tad reasonable. We both haven't seen another human in days, but who can truly say it wasn’t longer.

"It does sound weird." you cofirm light hearthedly

"Where do you wanna touch me?"

It feels a bit intimate but you still feel it’s important to establish some boundaries if you’re going to let him do it.

"Can I- just like announce the spot and you give me your yae or nae?" He answers, earning a raised eyebrow from you.

"Alright, but you'll wait for my response okay?"

He nods eagerly, something akin to a dog wagging its tail after being told they’ll get ‘walkies’.

He slowly draws a bit closer as you start to pull up your legs on the couch, making sure to get rid of your shoes first.

“Can I touch your waist?” He asks and you falter a bit before nodding, letting out a low confirmation.

His hand finding its place on your waist right above your hip bone. He lets his hand drift over the slight indent, you don’t mind the touch but it’s sensing shivers through you regardless.

“Is this okay?” He asks and you respond with a small ‘yes’

He lets his hand drift a little higher giving you an almost desperate look.

“Can I?” He can’t even say it, you nod again

His hands drift past your chest to your shoulders. To your own suprise, though you didn't suspect he'd want to grope you after what happened earlier.

“Can I hug you please?” He asks and you stretch your arms as an invitation. He lets himself fall into your embrace.

You falling back on the couch with him on top of you, it’s weirdly comforting. Yet his hands still seem to roam.

“Neil” you utter and he freezes a bit

“Sorry can I still touch you like this?” He sounds only mildly apologetic, but I let it slide and give him a small confirming hum.

“Yeah. But ask next time.”

"I will, I promise" he utter is muffled by the fabric of your shirt.

“You know I got shot by an old lady because I accidentally killed her dog with my car”

It’s a random confession but it seems like he’s looking to get it off his chest.

“That’s- well I’m sorry about that that’s a terrifying way to go. Do you think that’s the reason you landed here?”

He lets out a confused tone, shifting his face from the crook of you neck, up to look at you.

“Well you killed her dog, and sorta got put down like one yourself”

“Did you kill a dog before getting here?”

It’s a good question but you cannot remember anything that could relate to you dying or killing something before waking up here.

“No, I don’t think so…”

"You don't remember?" He asks lightly

"I don't think it matters really. I am here now, with you."

He gives a light hum, seemingly rearranging his limbs above you. You let out a small grunt as he accidently elbows your arm. A small sorry expelling from his mouth.

You both seem to lay there like that for a while, the close proximity making each of you feel safe, with no dogs in sight. Just two people stuck in doggie heaven.

A shrill noise wakes you, your name, being said as if on a speaker.

You bolt up, or at least try with the man still draped over your body - you lift your hands to Neils shoulders, gently shaking him.

He shifts his head up, his eyes slowly opening as you and him are nose to nose.

His gaze lingers on your eyes, leaving your throat dry. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips - his eyes following the movement, much to your dismay.

Then his own name is said, and then yours again. He springs up and you upright yourself as well.

"Well let's check it out" you say

He shifts on the couch looking you over seeming a bit reluctant, why?

You drag him along anyways, and you both soon find yourself in front of a curious scene. A small office space, with a door standing before it but no walls separate you from the office.

Making the door useless.

You wave at the lady, manning the desk. She notices you but does not acknowledge you further.

"Hey" Neil says, his own two hands raising to wave at the lady. She yet again ignores the two of you.

You both give each other confused looks.

"Maybe we should just-" Neil, rubs his neck awkwardly

"No way, if I have to wrestle this lady so be it. I wanna know why we're her-" you double down.

A loud fake cough resounds from the lady's direction. Both Neil and my head snapping to her, as she points to the door with her pen.

"I think we have to-"

"Yeah"

We sort of awkwardly shift to the door, my hand raises to knock, but Neil just opens it. Leaving my hand there in the air.

He holds the door open for me and I smile at him, giving him a small thanks.

Now we are almost in the same position as earlier just, having now done the extra step of going through a totally useless door.

"Good day, Neil and my name were called out by a speaker earlier I think" You try to say politely, You hate the office vibe that is established here. It feels like youre a child again making your own dentist appointment for the first time.

The lady looks Neil and you up and down. "You'll have to wait til you're called upon"

"What" Neil says reflecting my own irritation.

"Gods this feels like playing doctor as a kid" You utter as you put my hand to my forehead, trying to massage an oncoming headache away.

"Yeah except we are adults and they skipped the fun part of playing doctor as grown-ups"

You give him a small amused chuckle and an eyebrow raise.

A harsh clearing of the throat breaks us off.

"Neil Samson and-" she squints her eyes at the document before her, and then reads your name.

"Yeah" you both say stepping a bit closer to the desk out shoulders bumping into one another.

"Hmm.. what's the problem Neil?" she says regarding him alone rather than you.

"w-What" he asks a bit thrown off by the query

"Well you've been complaining an awful lot. Do you perhaps prefer chicken heart?"

"Chicken heart I don't know what you-" "The dog food, Neil" she answers blandly. Your eyebrows draw up into a frown as you eye Neil. He is visibly red and you think you might not want to dig into this.

Yet.

"No- I mean I just don't know why I- I mean we are here. I've seen more dogs than anyone should in a lifetime. The piles of smelly shoes and not to mention the piss drenched fire hydrants!" his voice cracks a bit as you see him trying to avoid mentioning a more upsetting situation.

You gently take his hand in yours, stopping it from shifting so much.

"I ugh-" his speak falters as he feels your grip on his hand.

"I think what Neil is trying to say is that not only did one of the .... resident try to assault him but that we both do not quite know what we are doing here"

You finish for him, giving him a look as you see him look at me a bit with awe it seems like. You squeeze his hand.

"Yeah what they said"

The lady before us eyes you up and down, her eye lingering eerily long on Neil rather than you.

"Why's that?" she asks, unable to sound any more uninterested.

"W-What, we aren't dogs!" You press out in irritation, getting fed up with this scene.

"You. I believe, but him" she points her pen at Neil, as he stiffens.

"For fucks sake he's obviously human!" You grit out slamming your unoccupied hand on her desk

She gives me a distasteful glare, but reaches for the phone on the edge of her desk no less.

"Thanks for-"

"Don't even thank me for that, Neil. This situation is genuinely fucked... and so am I because I'm still glad I got sent here." You shift a bit in embarrassment, your hand getting awfully clammy in his own. Neil raises his eyebrows eyeing you carefully.

"What do you mean?"

"I got to meet you man. That's what I mean"

He gives you a huge smile and laughs "It's fucked how I agree with that... despite"

"Yeah.. it's okay I'm still here if yo-"

"Okay so there has been a mistake" you both get interrupted, having completely forgotten the lady who while you were having a moment, had called whomever it is, to check if Neil Samson, is in fact a human being.

"Biggest understatement e-" "You'll both be sent back"

Suddenly it sets in with you what that might imply. Never seeing Neil again. Who the fuck even knows where he is from in comparison to you.

"Wait no not until" But it's too late, both of you are enveloped in a bright light and that's how Neil finds himself back in his car. Just moments before the disaster that put him into doggie heaven in the first place.

He stomps on the brakes as soon as the elderly lady is in view. Stopping mere inches before her dog. The lady cries out, grasping for her ankle biter, scolding Neil that he ALMOST hurt her precious Ms. Marble.

In his euphoria of having saved the dog and therefore his own life he offers the lady a ride. She still accepts, calling him a good boy a while pinching his cheek.

As they drive down the main road, she tells him of some soap opera she and Ms. Marble love watching together. He tries his best to listen and give commentary where it's appropriate.

He is focused mainly on the road though or more so the ladies that have already distracted him last time, as they drive up next to him. Though he is not focused on that but rather the pedestrian on the ladies lane. While checking him out they don't focus on the road.

He loudly honks his horn, and the sunglass clad driver sees the predicament and acts. As well as warning the pedestrian who quickly jumps back onto the curb.

Neil and the car next to him stop abruptly as the traffic lights for them are red.

The elderly women next to him scoffing at the ladies, unruly driving and praising Neil for his attentive gaze but all he can focus on is the disheveled pedestrian. A familiar gaze meeting his own as he realizes he saved more than his own and a dog's life.

I admit I rushed it towards the end. Hope ya'll still like it. I'll probably beta it tomorrow but I wanted to give ya'll smth to read before sleep.

[jester-lover]

May I request Niel Pye with a s/o headcanons?? He's so malewife and sad I want him

of course you may, Neil is the malewife

Neil Pye with an s/o

gn! reader, cw/ depression, fluff, self doubt/insecurities, yknow the average Neil Pye Experience™, and minor violence

Okok, first of all

This boy can't believe you want to date him

Someone as wonderful and kind and gorgeous as you, willingly and honestly dating him

He's a big greasy hippie, he thinks he's so terrible and unlovable

(He's a darling, you wish he just believed it as much as you do)

Neil is such a sweet and caring lover, when he's not wallowing in self pity

“I made some lentils for you…they’re pretty edible…”

He tries very hard to be of use to you in any way, like sewing up any frayed clothing you have, or opening the door for you first

Realistically, none of Neil’s roommates believe him when he tells them about you

Vyvyan even smacks him over the head for ‘lying’

When, eventually you come to visit him, you're presence shocks everyone

 Especially Rick, who looks like he’s seen a ghost

 Mike probably needs to sit down for a while

Vyvyan’s banging his head against a wall

It’s utter chaos, as usual

Neil is a little happy though, as you’ve finally met his roommates and left a good impression on them

He’s a cuddler, look at him, radiates cuddle vibes

Neil Pye is the little spoon, I rest my case.

He also encourages you in any interests you have, and will be there for any events regarding that interest

You can borrow his sweatshirts anytime, he’ll give them to you happily

All in all 10/10 bf, Neil Pye is certified wife material.

TYO obsession is back on.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.

Does that even make any sense?😭

Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit

Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope

TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy

Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌

Dear (Y/N),

I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.

Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.

I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.

I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.

I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.

I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.

I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.

I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.

I want to go every where you go.

I want to slow dance with you.

I want to head bang with you.

I want to paint with you.

I want to sing to you.

I want to hold you.

I want you.

I love you.

I’m in love with you.

And I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

Sally <3

Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.

Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.

~next morning~

‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.

You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.

Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“

You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.

“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.

“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.

As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.

“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.

“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.

“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.

And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol

[dearsnow]

ORLANDO (FIRST KISS)

- charlie, your best friend, attempts to set you up with the crush he is convinced you have. (charlie dalton x gn!reader, includes some neil being a good friend, slight angst into fluff, happy au, no beta we die like real men)

word count: 2,647

a/n - i love charlie so much oh my god 😭 hopefully there’s more to come with him! i’m planning a very long fic for him, hopefully similar in feeling to my neil fic “the last time” :) this is slightly inspired by the song “orlando” by leith ross so pls check them out!!

It’s 1:32 AM on a Friday night (Saturday, technically, but that rarely seems to matter), and Charlie Dalton is refusing to let you sleep.

“You’ve got to tell me. I swear, cross my heart, I won’t tell a soul.” He begs.

Charlie has been your best friend for god knows how long. You met so long ago that you don’t even remember how or why; it just was. That’s exactly what your relationship is. There’s really no rhyme or reason, considering you would detest anyone else with his personality, but you’re friends anyways, and you love him with all your heart. Opposites attract, you suppose. You don’t know for sure. Most days, including today, he is extremely and desperately annoying.

You slump down onto his bed, covering your eyes with your hands. He’s gotten it into his mind that you have a crush, and he won’t rest until he finds out who it is. Lucky you.

“Charlie, it’s no one.” You groan, peeking past your fingers to stare at him with a cross expression. “Even if I did like someone, I wouldn’t tell you.”

The problem is, you do like someone, and he’s sitting right in front of you with messy hair and pajama pants.

Your feelings for him, just like your meeting, are so far buried in the past that you couldn’t dig them up with an excavator. One day, you suppose, you just started to fall in love with him. He’s annoying and rich and a total smart-ass, but you love him. In some soft, quiet ways, he is the kindest boy you’ve ever met.

He notices when you get cut off mid-conversation or when you’re just a little too uncomfortable to talk to the person in front of you. He knows you like the back of his hand and puts his knowledge to use without ever having to ask, like how he always gets you exactly what you want on your birthday. He’s smart and energized and a breath of fresh air, no matter how stale the room is. And, of course, though you would rarely tell him, he is dashingly handsome.

He sits up straighter and begins listing every boy you’ve ever come in contact with. “Meeks? You always did like his type. Ooh, or Pitts? He’s a pitiful lady-killer. Todd is another good choice. Knox has got his thing with Chris, so you probably wouldn’t like him unless you’re into getting your heart broken.” He stops his ranting to take a breath, then continues on. “You cannot like Cameron because if you do, I won’t ever talk to you again. It isn’t Cameron, right?”

You scoff. “I don’t have a crush. Stop trying to guess a person that doesn’t exist.”

“Neil?” He questions. You hesitate just a bit before waving away his suggestion. Neil is a very good friend of both yours and his, and truthfully, he would definitely be the best boyfriend out of all of them. Despite that, you do not love him like you love Charlie. Not even close.

He catches on to your hesitation with scary accuracy. The tilt of your head, the twitch of your hand, the way the corners of your mouth almost curved up into a smile. Charlie feels his heart drop. “Oh my god, it’s Neil. Of course it’s Neil, it’s always Neil! You like Neil.” Neil is, unbeknownst to him, a complete catch. It makes sense that you would like him. After all, he’s kind, outgoing, and a whole lot nicer than Charlie is. That doesn’t make it hurt any less.

Like you, Charlie doesn’t exactly know when you came into his life. Maybe a stuffy dinner party or a prep event- all that matters to him is that you’re here now, and he loves you. He does, however, know when he started loving you.

It was seventh grade at a school dance, and you had decided to go with a boy he barely knew. When the boy asked you out with a pocketed rose and a shy smile, Charlie felt his blood boiling. How dare he, he thought, take you away from him? You’re his best friend. He would have bought you an entire flower shop had you said the word.

Seeing you waltz with him in your pretty outfit, as awkward and stiff as you both were, was too much for him to bear. Charlie left early, prompting you to follow him. The scene that resulted was one you both tried heavily to erase.

“Charlie, what’s wrong?” You panted, hurrying after him as fast as your pinchy shoes would allow. “Charlie. Charlie! Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing. Just go away.” He sniffled. You turned the corner to see him sitting on a curb, tears tracking down his face. If you knew one thing about Charlie Dalton, it was that he hated crying. You sat down next to him, but he turned to face the trees to his left.

“What happened?” You asked gently. How he despised your gentle care.

“I hate you. Go away.” His voice broke in the middle of his sentence. “I never want to see you again.”

Something in you snapped in that moment, something angry and sad all at once. He was hurting, and you loathed it, but Charlie always got what he wanted in the end.

You stood up and left, muttering a “sorry” over your shoulder.

He tried to avoid you for a while after that, but as with all fated things, he couldn’t stay away for long. He went back to you without a hint of apology, and you took him. Begrudgingly, you just couldn’t be without your best friend for very long.

He knew he loved you then, and that fact hasn’t changed in the present.

“I don’t like Neil.” You insist. “Trust me.”

Charlie stands to pace around his room, talking with his hands as per usual. “Y’know, you always seem smiley around him. I should’ve seen it coming, really. The way you talk to him can’t be platonic.” You sigh from the bed, and Charlie flops down beside you. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s pleasant, like a ray of sun on a cold day. You instinctively move closer to him as he opens his mouth. “I could probably get you a date with him. Not that you couldn’t do it yourself, but,” he pauses, a hint of hurt humor in his eyes, “I could be your wingman.”

He doesn’t want to be. He really doesn’t want to be, but what can he do? He would rather see you happy with Neil than miserable with no one. Despite how much he hates it, he’s gotten over most of his prepubescent jealousy. He knows deep down in the very achingly sad part of him that you don’t love him. At least, not the way he loves you.

You’re facing him, your nose inches away from his chest as your heart pounds in yours. He really wants you to get with Neil. Well, if that’s how he feels, you don’t feel the need to reject the offer. Maybe this is just the thing you need. What’s the point in pining after him when he’s actively trying to set you up with his second best friend?

“Yeah. That… I would like that.” Charlie’s heart crumbles in his chest.

“Then I’ll get right on it.” He grins. Behind the smile, sadness is swimming in his eyes, but you don’t bother to look at them.

It’s winter break, one of Charlie’s favorite times of the year, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this sad before.

By the time the next weekend rolled around, you had almost forgotten about Charlie’s proposed setup. But, on this Saturday when you’re cozy in your room, Neil comes knocking at your door.

You open the door, slightly surprised. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers with a small grin on his face. They’re your favorite flowers.

“Hi.” He says. His voice is breathless.

You raise your eyebrows, but for some reason, you can’t help but smile. Neil is standing in your doorway, and you feel like you know what he’s going to ask. “Hey.”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?” He implores, holding the bouquet out for you to take. “It doesn’t have to be right now, but… I���m ready if you are.” He’s dressed in a crisp suit, and if you’re being honest, you’d hate to make him go home without putting it to use.

You laugh lightly, the feeling bubbling out of your stomach. “Yeah, I’d love that. Just let me get ready and I’ll be out in ten minutes.”

Two days prior to Saturday, Charlie proposed a dead poets town trip. They were milling around, bouncing from shop to shop before Charlie clasped Neil on the shoulder.

“What do you think about Y/N?”

Neil turned, confused. “What do you mean?”

There was a smirk on Charlie’s face, but he hesitated like he didn’t actually want to say the words he was about to say. “I mean, I think you two would be a pretty cute couple.”

Neil let out a huff of air, almost in disbelief. “You’ve been in love with them since seventh grade, Nuwanda. Don’t try to act like you aren’t.”

Charlie gasped exaggeratedly and put a hand over his heart. “How dare you suggest that! I just want the best for my dearest friends.” The others laughed. Every single one of them knew that Charlie harbored deep feelings for you- and every single one of them knew he would never admit it. “Look, just one date. Ask them out on Saturday. They really like you, and I know they’re free, so they can’t pull any excuses.”

“I just don’t know.” Neil admitted. “They’re great and all, but I’d feel bad if I stole away your crush of four years.”

“You won’t be stealing anything, my boy. Just think about it.” Charlie knew he was lying, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he also knew that somehow, he was making the right decision.

Like all of your romantic endeavors, your date with Neil is slightly awkward. He’s your friend, sure, but you’ve never really thought about him like this before. You never even considered dating him. It’s always been Charlie. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to broaden your horizons.

After the initial tension, you would like to believe it went well. Neil walks you out of the restaurant, holding your arm. He’s smiling, and you feel your own expression falter. You like him, you really do, but some part of you knows that he will never be Charlie.

He leans closer to you, almost close enough to touch. Your heart pounds in your chest as he whispers something into your ear. “Don’t look, but Charlie’s watching. Pretend I’m kissing you.”

You’re taken aback as your eyes try to search for his brown hair, but after a second, you comply. You shut your eyes and thread your fingers through Neil’s. To anyone else, especially anyone inside of the restaurant, it looks like you’re smashing tongues with him.

Neil walks you home as the day fades into night, and as much as you ask, your questions are left unanswered with a sly wink.

“I can’t believe you would do that.” Charlie rages. “It was meant to be a date, not a date and a tongue fuck! That was their first kiss, Neil, and you’ve stripped them of it!” He doesn’t know why he’s so outrageously enraged. It was a quick kiss from the boy you’ve been crushing on. He should be overjoyed for you.

“It wasn’t like that, Charlie. Just ask them.” Neil is surprisingly calm, considering his friend is screaming at him. “Ask them. Go on.” He pushes Charlie’s shoulder. “I walked them home.”

Charlie grumbles, his gut twisted into shaking, angry knots. “I will. If they tell me you did anything weird, though, you’re dead.” Neil shakes his head.

“I think you’d kill me even if I didn’t kiss them.”

For the second time, you hear a knock at your door. This one is loud and frenzied, but through the haze, you can tell who it is. Who else would knock so harshly at 11:23 at night? It’s a good four hours after your date, so it definitely can’t be Neil.

You open the door, clad in pajamas and a frown. “Seriously, Charlie? You’re gonna wake the whole neighborhood.”

“Did he kiss you?” Ah, straight to the point. He’s never one to beat around the bush.

“What’s it to you?” You defend. “You didn’t care about that possibility when you wanted me to date him.” You cross your arms. Why the hell is he so upset? You don’t understand anything about this. His motives, his feelings, right now, they’re more confusing than he’s ever been. Well, save for one night. Oddly, this reminds you of that dance a few years back. You don’t want that to happen again, so whatever’s going on has to stop.

He opens his mouth and then closes it like he’s actually considering what he wants to say for the first time in his life. “I just…” A defeated expression tugs his face down. Your heart plummets. You rarely ever see him crestfallen. The last time was four years ago, and you had hoped you would never see him like that again.

He turns to walk away. He can’t do it, he just can’t. He’s walking so fast the pavement under his feet is a blur, and you chase after him.

“Charlie, what are you-“ He turns, seeing the confusion on your face.

When he looks at you, all Charlie can see is love. He loves your voice, the curve of your lips, the way you do anything and everything. In that moment, when he sees you with tired eyes, his inhibitions flee like rabbits from a wolf. Maybe, just maybe, he can.

Before you can ask, yet after you see the fire in his eyes, he grabs your arm and cuts you off.

“Can I kiss you?”

You’re taken aback for a moment, lips parted, not speaking a word. His hair is messy and the tear tracks on his cheeks glisten in the street lights. It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted has sprung to life before your eyes. “Yes, but-“

He presses his lips to yours, effectively cutting off any further communication once again. His grip on you softens as his hands reach up to cup your face. Your eyes flutter shut, and a million different things race through your mind. All you can consciously think is that you never want it to end.

When he pulls away, breathless, something new is shining in his eyes. “I hope that wasn’t bad for a second kiss.” He smiles. He’s still worried, more so than he’s ever been, but that was the most amazing thing he thinks he’s ever done.

“Second? Charlie, that was my first.”

He pauses. “So Neil didn’t kiss you?”

You laugh, and upon seeing his even more excited face, you laugh so hard you double over. He joins, and your giggles are probably too loud for how late it is. “No! God no, he told me to pretend because you were watching.” Your voice comes out humorous and strained, with so much joy behind the tone that Charlie can feel himself starting to laugh again. “Were- Were you in the restaurant for our whole date?”

“Yeah.” He chokes out. “I couldn’t just let the love of my life date some other guy without my knowledge, right?”

“Oh, totally. Maybe you should ask me out next time, then, to completely avoid this whole scenario.” He pulls you in, laughing against your shoulder.

“Sure. Yeah, I think I will. Next time, I’ll make sure of it.”

[leighsartworks216]

Migraine Pain

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Wrote this for me bc I have a migraine rn and I want Astarion to act as my personal cold pack. Beginning of Astarion's dialogue taken from the vid Neil did of an Astarion wake up call lol

Not proofread bc brain hurts

Warnings: migraine descriptions, pain, light angst if you squint, swearing, OOC Shadowheart

Word Count: 1,839

Main Masterlist

First Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist - Second Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The two knocks at the door split your skull. Each one like an iron spike hammered into your temples. All you could do was hide deeper under the covers, hoping they would muffle the sound enough to stop hurting.

“Darling, get up,” Astarion called through the wood. Two more knocks accentuated his annoyance. He groaned when he didn’t hear any movement. “Get the fuck up!”

You wished you could tell him what was going on - really you did. But the slightest twitch from your tadpole was enough to have you wishing for death. Hells, you’d make a deal with Raphael with unbalanced terms just so it would go away! Instead, all you could do was wait it out. It would be a long wait indeed.

With another irritated sigh, you could hear the familiar scrape of his lockpicking tools working at the lock. Even the quiet metal-on-metal grated right against your eardrums. Fortunately, he was exceptionally skilled, because with a click the door was swinging open.

He rolled his eyes when he saw the lump of your body underneath the blankets. “My gods, you’re so lazy. Just like Gale.” His footsteps, even as an elven rogue, were too damn loud. You pressed your nose into the mattress, willing the thumping pulse in your head to stop. It thudded behind your eyes with each step.

In one swift motion, the blankets that provided the small mercy of darkness were whipped off of you. You curled as tightly into yourself as possible, covering your head with your arms to block out the sunlight streaming into your room. Astarion scoffed.

“Get out of bed and get up!” He gestured to the window. Even though you couldn’t see it, you could hear the rustling of his shirt. “It’s the morning. Listen, I might be a vampire that’s been away from the sun for 200 years, and I can actually now walk in it thanks to a tadpole that’s induced my mind,” he rambled, before huffing indignantly, “but even I don’t rest in!”

Now was the worst time for his dramatics. You usually adored how sassy and silly he could be, but now it just drove a stake through your brain. Even the Absolute couldn’t cause a pain this agonizing.

You whimpered, reaching out with one arm to swat him away. You missed. “Please, stop,” you whined. “Head hurts.”

He clicked his tongue. “Nothing the cleric can’t fix. C’mon, she can do whatever it is she does on our way out of here.”

You shook your head slowly, burying your face further and further into the bed. Gods, why did it have to hurt so fucking bad? Your chest tightened as the burn of tears stung at your eyes. Even crying hurt. Your body trembled and shook, your hands tangling into your hair to press at your affliction, as choked sobs suffocated you. Each gasp for air felt like a vice gripping your brain.

“Darling?” Astarion spoke, much softer. You couldn’t answer. He sighed softly, no longer annoyed. Well, a little annoyed. He dragged the blankets back up to your shoulders. “I’ll get Shadowheart.”

His footsteps were much lighter as he rushed out of your room. Was… this the work of the tadpoles? But wouldn’t they be affected, too? Ugh, why couldn’t anything be simple in this damn group of weirdos?

Shadowheart rushed in a moment later, remembering to keep her steps light halfway to you. She knelt down, frowning at the sight of the group’s leader so shaken. “Is it a migraine?” she whispered.

A sharp pain bolted through your temples as you nodded. You whimpered.

She sighed quietly. There was nothing her magic could do; migraines weren’t something she could just heal. “I’ll tell the others and whip up some tea, alright?”

She didn’t wait for your answer and set to work closing the curtains over the windows. Astarion frowned, missing the golden light already. “What’s wrong with them?”

Shadowheart put a finger over her lips with a glare. He scowled, but didn’t say anything. She only spoke when she was right next to him in the doorway. “They have a migraine. They’re extremely sensitive to light and sound right now.”

“Can’t you do something?” He glared impatiently at her, crossing his arms.

“There’s nothing for it. All we can do is wait. I suggest getting comfortable - we’re not leaving today.” She slipped past him, back down the stairs to the rest of your anxious companions.

He tapped his arm as he watched the lump under the blankets shift slowly as you finally uncovered your head. Baldur’s Gate was so close. Cazador was so close. They couldn’t deal with these delays when he was so damn close to being honestly, truly free.

He hadn’t moved from his post by the door when Shadowheart returned with a steaming cup of tea. She placed it carefully on your bedside table. “Drink this,” she whispered. “It should help with the pain.”

You nodded slightly, wiping at your face. She offered a little sympathetic smile. She gave Astarion a stern look as she passed. “Don’t try taking a nibble, vampire.”

He forced a sweet smile. “Offering yourself up instead?”

She scoffed, scrunching her nose up at the mere thought. “They need rest. And you leering over them isn’t going to help.” She left once more, with a last cursory glance over her shoulder to see if he’d leave.

Once she was out of sight, Astarion stepped into the room, softly closing the door behind him. His feet barely made a sound as he found his way back to your side. At least you weren’t curled up into a little ball anymore. Or crying. Small mercies, he supposed. He had no idea how to deal with someone being sick, let alone someone crying.

You looked at the cup on the table. Liquid salvation. The real trick was being able to drink it.

With a deep breath, you forced yourself to sit up, wincing and whimpering with every jerky motion. He was honestly shocked you didn’t jump when he grabbed your arm to help, but perhaps you really were that out of it. Or you knew he was there. Either way, you thank him in the smallest, most pathetic voice he’s ever heard.

Comfortably propped up on a stack of pillows against the headboard, you reached over to try grabbing the cup. He caught your hand just before you knocked the cup over.

“Careful, darling,” he chastised quietly. With a put-out sigh, he sat down at the edge of the bed and picked up the cup. He brought the rim to your lips. “Since you’re so incapable…”

You carefully took a sip. Your whole face relaxed at the warmth, and the soothing herbs mixed in. It wouldn’t be an immediate remedy, but it was a very pleasant one. After you eagerly drained half the cup, he set it back on the table. You sighed with relief, content in the knowledge even a single percentile of your pain could be eased away.

“You don’t have to stay,” you mumbled, watching him through squinted eyes. Even the dimness of the room was too bright for you.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Least I could do after such a rude awakening.”

You chuckled, but the sound was cut short with a strong wince. You sat there for a moment, face pinched and brow tight as you waited for the sting to pass. Once it did, your face softened once more.

“How bad is it?”

“Like Dwarves are taking pickaxes to my temples in search of gold.” You took a breath. “And like an ogre is sitting on my head.”

He huffed a laugh. “Not much I can do to help with that, love.”

You hummed, shaking your head ever so slightly. You didn’t want to go jostling the miners when they were so damned hard at work.

With a small gesture toward the cup, Astarion helped you finish off the last half of the tea. A small dribble fell from the corner of your mouth down your chin. He caught it with his thumb quickly, the knuckles of his closed hand brushing your cheek. You leaned into the touch immediately, without even thinking about it. You sighed with relief.

“You’re cold.”

“Mm. Comes with being undead.” He set the cup aside, but allowed his hand to linger. In fact, he opened it up so he cupped your cheek with his palm. A sharp chill raced down your spine, but you didn’t pull away.

It was curious, how easily you placed yourself in his care. Watching as your eyes shut in easy tranquility as you indulged in the coolness of his hand, how relaxed you became - it surprised him. You always found new ways to amaze him.

Slowly, not wishing to jostle you, he moved to press his hand to your temple. If he thought you were relaxed before, this was utter bliss. “Gods, don’t stop,” you begged.

He glanced at the door, half expecting Shadowheart to burst in and yell at him for disturbing you. But nothing happened. Still, it would be better to avoid being told off. He pulled away, but kept a hand on your arm. “Lay down, dove.”

Whether out of desperation to have him acting as a cold compress once more or just to take the pressure off your brain, you complied in a heartbeat. Slowly, you shimmied back down into the covers, head situated on a pillow once more.

Astarion thought for a moment. Did he really want to keep sitting here, back tiring out, arms reaching for hours? You whined, placing a hand over his on your arm, asking without words for relief. He hushed you.

As quickly as he could without shaking the bed, he stood, rounded it, and slipped in under the covers beside you. You gravitated toward him immediately, even as you winced. Head on his chest, arms clinging to him like a babe holding onto its mother, you relaxed into the natural chill he offered. He rested a hand back on your cheek, but slid the other to the back of your neck. That was the sweet spot, it seemed; you practically melted in his arms.

It wasn’t long before you were fast asleep, lulled into peace with the aid of the tea. He stared at the dark curtains blocking out the sun. One more day couldn’t hurt, surely. Not that they really had a choice, but…

You stirred in your sleep, turning your head to press your nose further into the ruffles of his shirt. Like this - bags under your eyes, hair a mess, a bit pallid - he was sure. He would Ascend. You’d never have to suffer like this again. Neither of you would. He’d be the most powerful man in the lands, with you at his side. Never again would he have to live in fear, bound in chains to someone else.

He sighed and rested his cheek lightly on your head. Gods. Just a few days now.

---

Tag List:

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[bomber-grl]

Flufftober 2024

Day 1: Can’t sleep

Pairing(s): Sal Fisher x Gn!Reader

Despite how busy the day had been you couldn’t sleep. You’ve been staring up at your ceiling for god knows how long and you decided to change that.

You got up and swiftly made your way to sals room. Ever since you moved in with Larry, Sal, Todd and Neil, going to sals room was sort of a nightly occurrence.

Between your boarderline insomnia and his reoccurring nightmares- you’d both pay eachother visits.

Not like those went unnoticed by the other residents either… Larry really needs to get his mind out of the gutter.

Upon standing to the entrance of sals room you quickly went inside. What you weren’t expecting though, was seeing Sal have his arm out- as if it was going to twist the doorknob but you beat him to it.

Well, that’s exactly what happened.

“Oh” he sort of jumped in surprise “I didn’t expect you haha” he sort of chuckled in an awkward way, it was cute.

“Yea I can tell” you replied back, though not with a malicious tone. “Where were you headed?”

“With you actually” he lift his arm and began rubbing the back of his neck, almost as if you’d caught him doing something he shouldn’t.

“Oh well then let’s sleep together” the phrasing clearly caught Sal a bit off guard (if his sputtering was anything to go by) but he followed you under his covers nonetheless.

Once you both got comfortable you couldn’t manage to say anything. I mean sure, silence wasn’t exactly foreign to you two but there was this expecting air in the room.

“Hey Sal” you turned to face him directly. “Yea?” Your voice piercing the silence clearly caught his attention. “What happens in those reoccurring dreams- rather nightmares of yours?-“

You continued “I know you told me that they’ve been tame ever since- yknow back in highschool, but they’ve been acting up lately right? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to”

He smiled and you couldn’t help but gulp like those characters did when they were stereotypically in love. “I mostly dream of my mom” you perked up and Sal let out a small laugh at it “mostly of the moment when this” he motioned to his face “happened.”

“Oh” you said softly “how does that make you feel- reliving it I mean.” Sal was quiet for a bit, thinking, but then he spoke again “it’s complicated.”

“Why do you ask?” He turned to you. “Well since you can’t really disclose much of your trauma to normal therapists for obvious reasons then I figured I’d listen, I mean someone has to.”

“Yea I guess you’re right” silence followed after but once again, you broke the silence.

“Hey” in response Sal hummed in acknowledgment. “What if I kissed you?” Rather than the cool hum he previously let out- Sal reacted violently. He jerked and out of the corner of your eye you could tell he was made flustered out of that one comment.

That alone made you laugh out loud- and once you started you couldn’t stop. Despite Sals pleads and asking you to quiet down you really couldn’t. Gosh he was going to be the end of you. Sal was so cool headed but when it came to actual romance he was totally out of left field.

You finally calmed down after a bit but that didn’t mean you had forgotten what you had asked. “So, about my question. You’ve got an answer?”

His flustered demeanor came back full force. Even if he was a bit shy despite having kissed you many times before, it was still endearing.

Once Sal nodded and gave a small “yea” you leaned in and obviously completed what you had asked for. Maybe a little more too. Sal made no protest and despite his tense body and slinking away- he kept leaning forward.

The kiss would’ve lasted forever had it not been for Sal gently pushing you away to get some air.

Teasing him would’ve been your next course of action but you knew better than to embarrass him further with making him speak- especially with the stuttering that usually follows such “intensity”.

Funny how someone who could often be a bit devious could be so easily riled. Let’s pray Larry or any other residents didn’t hear your little “sleepover” because if sleeping in the same bed wasn’t “scandalous” enough- you had the noises (rather laughter and chit chat) to accompany the silent allegations.

-

A/n: genuinely sorry if this sucks 😭

[summerchlds]

I KNOW YOU

Neil Perry x gn! reader

Synopsis: In which you and Neil end up in a vintage photobooth.

An: Hello!! This is my first post on this account so I apologize if this sounds like shit😭 Also!! English is not my first language and I’ve never stepped foot into a Photo Booth so if I wrote something wrong then that’s on me🫡🫡

💌

When you two entered through the curtain and into the booth, You found it to be particularly small, barely big enough for the two of you to fit inside. It was kind of dark, the walls were maroon colored and the only thing there was in there was a built-in camera in the wall and a bench to sit down on so it was kind of empty (besides the scribbles and notes people had written down on the walls that the owners were too lazy to remove). You’ve both never seen or been in a Photo Booth before, not having a single clue on how it exactly worked, fearing that you’d accidentally break something.

“It’s quite cramped in here, isn’t it?” He teased softly, being fully aware of the amount of space you two had. You nodded, breathing out a faint ‘yeah’ under your breath. You tried to make yourself sit comfortably, but it was kind of hard when the side of your body was stuck glued beside his as your other half was against the wall.

Neil leaned down slightly.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked softly, his voice husky as he looked you up and down with a small smile. You once again nodded, not wanting to burden him. It was fine. Afterall, you couldn’t do anything about it. Neil turned his head back to the camera, looking clueless.

“Does it even work?” Neil asked as his brows furrowed.

“I hope so.” You responded, feeling hopeful. There was a button sticking out underneath the camera lens.

“I think this button starts the camera and countdown.” He said, unsure.

Neil reached slightly up to press it, unsure if it was the right thing to do. Thankfully, the lightbulb that hung above us, slowly lit up, triggering the timer countdown for the first picture. As the countdown went, You both realized that you had to act fast if you wanted the pictures to turn out good. You had no idea how many seconds you were given, could’ve been ten seconds or thirty if this machine was nice enough.

“What should we do?” You asked, a little panicky.

“Just smile!” He said quickly, leaning back a little against the wall. You took this opportunity to lean a little closer to the camera as you smiled nervously. You didn’t have that many high hopes for the first picture, just wanting the first picture to show you two smiling as a start. You posed awkwardly for a few seconds before the camera’s flash unexpectedly came on.

The bright flash blinded both of you, causing Neil and you to let out a small groan of discomfort as you both rubbed your eyes. Neil leaned back up beside you as he tried to blink away the spots in his vision, adjusting to the sudden change of light.

Now it was time to think of a new pose to do. Without thinking, you shifted yourself to lean your head towards him as you, again, smiled at the camera. You weren’t expecting for him to do the same though, but he did. Your heads linked together as you both smiled sweetly and the camera clicked once again.

You two pulled apart, feeling the warmthness of his cheek leave yours as you tried to figure out what pose you were going to do next. Neil seemed to have no problem with this whole thing, just freestyling everything. Maybe it was because you knew he would look good in any pose he chose to do.

You suggested to him that you two could make funny faces, just to humorize the photos. He didn’t say anything, let alone move as you got into your position, scrunching up your nose as you smiled mischievously. You awkwardly waited for the photo to be taken as you watched Neil from your peripheral vision. He turned his head towards you and just stayed there, watching you. His gaze seemed to burn a path through you.

You wanted to turn your head to face him but you’d have to wait until the picture would get taken.

When the flash finally covered the whole booth for just a split second before disappearing again, the light above you dimmed, signaling for you two to exit the booth, but you didn't, you stayed there as if you were expecting something more to happen. You turned your head immediately to see what was the problem. You were planning to ask him ‘why didn’t you pose?’ or ‘is there something on my face?’ but when you turned to him, you realized how close your faces were. And suddenly, your mind became blank. He stared down at you with a feeling of undeniable adoration in his brown eyes as he watched you almost hungrily. There was a tender, fond adoration flickering in his eyes, the way it often did in private moments like this. The warmth and affection in his expression made you feel vulnerable and cherized at the same time. His eyes seemed to take in every little detail, capturing it and piercing it into his mind, afraid to lose the memory of how you looked like, in case you two would in the future pull apart and never see each other again. His expression was soft and full of warmth, as if he found every little thing about you utterly mesmerizing.

“What?” You muttered quietly, already feeling yourself getting lost in his eyes. Oh how you could stare into them for hours on end.

“What?” Neil asked in return, his voice low and warm, tinged with a hint of amusement. In the midst of darkness, you could see a speck of light reflecting on his eyes from outside the curtain where the streetlight resided. You felt his breath from his open mouth hit your face as it made you realize how close your faces have gotten.

“May I kiss you?” He softly whispered against your lips, glancing down at them for a split second before returning his gaze up at you.

You opened your mouth, again and again to try and get something out but your voice had given up on you so you just nodded eagerly instead. He leaned down and closed his eyes, pressing his lips gently against yours. His hand travelled to your face, placing it on the back of your head to deepen the kiss. You reciprocated and held his cheek, your thumb grazing his sharp cheekbone. The kiss was short but sweet, only lasting a couple of seconds before he pulled away, exhaling ever so slightly as he looked breathlessly at you. You couldn’t help but let out a cheeky grin that spread over your red face, which caused Neil to laugh at you.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

You walked out of the booth as you watched Neil pick up the pictures that were printed out and examined them. He had a cheeky smile on his face as he looked down on them, making you curious.

“Let me see.” You said and he handed you the strip. Without saying anything, you took it from him and looked at it closely. There were four black & white photos of you two stacked on top of each other, doing various poses for each one. The first photo though, caught your eye. It looked fine at first, you saw yourself smiling and narrowed your eyes to Neil.

His mouth was pulled into a wide smile which showed off his gleaming teeth and dimples. He looked adorable. Though unbeknownst to you, you saw his hand positioned behind your head, creating a bunny ears gesture, making you look like a fool.

When you realized this, you playfully hit his arm as a form of payback. He pulled up his hand to caress the spot where you hit him at, pretending to look hurt as he couldn’t help holding in his laugh.

“I just couldn’t help myself, I had to!” He said between laughs.

You didn’t want to give in but eventually did, giggling along with him.

Besides, you knew you were going to keep these photos in your dorm as a memory, even if they didn’t turn out perfect, they were special.

(After all, no one but you and Neil would fully know what happened after the fourth photo was taken.)

[mothhball]

I (still) adore you.

Pairing | Neil Lewis x gn reader, established relationship

Warnings | FLUFF <3 no explicit smut, but nsfw themes and brief mentioning of oral (m receiving). Everything else is fluffy. Possibly ooc Neil. Basic Instinct 2 slander

Summary | You’re trying to tough it out during sex, but Neil insists on checking in on you.

Words | 897

Notes | short soft drabble for this man while I’m in the middle of writing more filth with Jon. Fic title from ‘Till Forever by Labi Siffre

You wanted to enjoy this; you really did. At first, you were just as excited about it as Neil, the both of you giggling and grinning as you filled the online shopping cart with some new toys and equipment. You were excited as you checked out and waited for the package to arrive, and you were even excited as you unpacked the items and you got into the skimpy little outfit that you picked out yourself.

But now, in the middle of having your hair pulled and going down on him… you’re just not feeling it. You’re no stranger to rough play, especially not with Neil whose knowledge of obscure sex positions and raunchy practices seemingly knows no bounds. But today, you just feel weird. Awkward and unsure of yourself like you’re handling a dick for the first time in your life.

He pulls his hips back, freeing his length from your open mouth and placing a gentle hand on your jaw to keep you from going after him. Confused, you look up at him with big eyes, only to meet his worried gaze.

“Are you okay?”

The question makes you pause, and despite yourself, you nod. “Yeah…” you murmur, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

“You’re lying to me, aren’t you?” Neil leans down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, running his hands trough your hair to rub at your scalp and down the back of your neck.

“No…” you try again, even though you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him. Your boyfriend gives you a knowing look, and in that moment, you know that he can see through you completely. You’re his favorite book to read, and he’ll never tire of lovingly thumbing through the pages that make up you in your entirety. At the start of all this, back when you were just starting to see each other, you were a puzzle he clumsily tried to solve. But now, it’s almost second nature to study the way your brows knit together and your lips twitch. Unravelling all those miniscule details has become one of his most beloved hobbies. Like picking out easter eggs in the backgrounds of his favorite films. And even better: it involves you. Just like he wants the rest of his life to involve you.

“Mhmm… I don’t believe you,” he decides, moving his hand to smooth out the little line between your eyebrows with the pad of his thumb. “I know that look.” Neil’s voice makes your heart ache with warmth, but you can’t help but feel guilty when he’s this soft with you while you’re leaving him hanging.

“I’m sorry, I just… I don’t know, I’m just not feeling it. You’re disappointed… aren’t you?”

“Disappointed? Babe, I waited 14 years for Basic Instinct 2. That was a disappointment. You’re fine, I promise.”

He chuckles into the crook of your neck, placing a few more tender kisses right over your pulse until he pulls back to reach for a pillow to prop up your head.

“We’re a team, remember? If you’re not enjoying yourself, then I’m out as well. You don’t need to force yourself through anything. I love you” Neil smiles at you, tracing patterns onto your shoulder and arm with his fingertips before he scoots back. “M’gonna get you a shirt to keep you warm...”

The bed creaks a little when he gets up and steps over to the closet to get you one of his shirts, retrieving his boxers as well in the process. Of course he’s still hard, and part of him wants to make some jokes about it, but he has the decency of keeping his mouth shut. Big boy pants, Neil. Put them on. You sit up slowly when he returns to your side, and he helps you put on the t-shirt, pulling the garment over your head to make you feel less exposed. Neil handles you with care, and his eyes are filled with love as he wraps his arms around you. Slowly but surely, you’re starting to feel like yourself again.

“What do you want to do instead?” he murmurs, resting his chin on top of your head while he runs his hands over your back. “We can watch a movie or play some games? Or we could –“

“Neil?” you cut him off, and he stops immediately.

“Yeah?”

“Can we just… stay here and do nothing? Just for a while?”

His expression softens and he kisses the crown of your head. Once, then twice and a third time. He doesn’t answer verbally, but it’s clear that he’s more then happy to indulge you. Warm hands lay you back down on the mattress, and he pulls the comforter over both of you before he wraps you up in his arms once more. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you, and the tension slowly seeps out of your body as you melt into Neil’s embrace.

“Maybe you can tell me why Basic Instinct 2 was such a disappointment.”

He laughs. It’s an honest, bubbling laugh that makes your insides feel fuzzy. A grin spreads on his face, and he tilts his head down to affectionately bump his nose against yours before he leans in for a sweet kiss.

“I’ll set a timer for an hour. That should get me through at least a third of my arguments.”

[kaldurahms-lover]

Hello, can I request Sal fisher x gn!reader, maybe a one shot about Sal showing y/n his face for the first time

AGH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS I NEEDED AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT WJSHSJHS

Pairing: Sal Fisher x Reader

Warnings: use of y/n, fluff, sal's face oops, i kinda fucked up the different tenses but i cannot be bothered to fix it, very minor swearing, not proofread.

Word Count: 773

A/N: takes place when Sal and the reader would be around 17 and have known each other for like two years

Sal knew he had to let y/n see his face at some point. They were the closest friend he had. (Larry doesn't count, Larry's family.) He knew in the back of his mind that it made no sense for the person he's closest to to be the last one in their friend group to see him without the prosthetic, hell, even Neil had seen him (i know in canon only his dad, larry, ash, and dr. enon have seen him. ssssshhh). He had no clue why he hadn't shown them besides his romantic feelings for them, they would never judge him. So when he heard them telling Todd how they felt like he didn't trust them...

"I just don't understand. It's his decision and I don't want him to show me if he isn't comfortable with it. But thats what hurts, is that he isn't comfortable with it. I love Sal, he's my best friend and I would do anything for him, I just can't help but feel like he doesn't trust me. And I know I sound terrible, being upset that someone I care about isn't ready to unpack their trauma with me, but I can't help it."

He knew something had to change.

Y/n was over within minutes, making the quick trip up from apartment 304. Sal ushered them into his room quickly, wanting to do this before his dad got home. They were obviously very confused, sitting down on his bed and asking if everything was okay.

"Do you think I'm uncomfortable around you?"

Y/n was taken aback by his blunt question. "Sal, what?"

"I heard you talking to Todd, y/n."

"Oh. Sal, I'm not upset with you, I didn't mean anything by it–"

He cut them off. "I know. I'm gonna ask again, do you think I'm uncomfortable around you?"

y/n gulped. "Sometimes I feel like maybe you don't. But who you take your prosthetic off around his completely your choice, I don't want you to do it just because you heard me say something to Todd, I want you to do it because you trust me and want me to see you."

"Thats the thing! I don't know why I don't want you to see me. You're my best friend, and I fucking love you, and you should've seen me years ago."

Y/n sighed. "It's okay. I promise it's okay."

Sal doesn't say anything, he just unclips his mask. Before Y/n can even realize what's happening, Sal's hand is the only thing holding his prosthetic against his face. He lowers it slowly, freely presenting his face, every scar, every bit of missing skin, the way it's now much more obvious that one of his eyes is also a prosthetic. His eyes are down, not wanting to see their reaction despite willingly removing his armor.

"Sal..."

"I know. It's not pretty."

y/n put their hands up and moved their head back as if offended. "Not at all what i was going to say. You're so pretty. In a very unconventional way... but theres nothing wrong with how you look. Can i..." Their hands reach out to cup his face, but they keep their distance until they have permission.

He nods and suddenly they're holding him so gently, as if they're afraid he might break under their touch. And as they softly caress his scarred skin, Sal melts. In fact, he gets so lost in the moment that it takes him a moment to realize they're talking to him.

"Sal? You still with me here?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah. Yeah I'm just... processing. No one's ever really had anything nice to say about me taking this off. I mean they've never had a huge problem but they haven't... they haven't reacted like this."

"Can I kiss you?" The question is sudden, purely formed from y/n thinking out loud. It takes everything in them react at how shocked Sal looks.

"What?"

"i'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or mess up us being friends–"

"No no no, y/n. Yes. Please. For the love of all things good, please."

"Really?"

"Really."

That was all the confirmation y/n needed before their lips were connected. It was awkward, considering the scar tissue and the fact that it was very obviously Sal's first kiss, but it was sweet. When they pulled back, y/n rested their forehead against Sal's.

They smiled. "Hi."

"Hi."

"This what you expected when you asked me to come over?"

"Hoped? Maybe. Expected? Never."

"Learn to expect this every time I come over now."

[masivechaos]

truth or dare!

── ☆ neil perry x gn! reader

Request: yes / no

Synopsis: neil asks you to go to a dead poets society meeting with him but a game reveals secrets...

Warning/content: little mention of drinking, my english

a.n.: 1k words-

masterlist / dead poets society masterlist / navigation / taglist

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

When Neil asked you to join his friends for the night, you didn’t think of this. You had met him during a theatre rehearsal and quickly got along. And tonight you were finally meeting his friends.

You thought of a party or something, not a… meeting in a cave?

You weren’t complaining though, his friends were sweet and the mood was light and fun. The boys read poems and Neil insisted that you had to read one, too. So you grabbed the copy in his hands and browsed through the pages before finally picking one.

“So… I just read it?” you asked, not really knowing if anything else was needed to do.

Neil offered you an encouraging smile, “Yeah,” he said “Just go for it.”

You cleared your throat “Shapes and Signs,” you announced, eyes darting in the room to watch everyone’s reaction.

“I see black dragons mount the sky,

I see earth yawn beneath my feet —

I feel within the asp, the worm

That will not sleep and cannot die,

Fair though may show the winding-sheet!”

You finished reading the poem and the boys clapped and cheered “See? Wasn’t so bad” Neil grinned.

“Neil’s new friend’s a real poet,” Charlie teased and you rolled your eyes.

You watched, amused, as the whole group started to talk and tease each other. This went on for a little while until Charlie got up. The bottle of alcohol you had brought (which was already open because you stole it from your parents) was empty and in his hands.

“Now… We’re going to do something a little different…”

You all looked at him, intrigued “What?” Knox asked.

Charlie placed the bottle in the centre of the circle the whole group formed, “Truth or dare,” he grinned. You could hear some of the boys groaning in annoyance or whining but Neil chuckled by your side.

Charlie spun the bottle, it landed on Todd. “Truth or dare?” Charlie asked with a smirk

“Uhm… truth,” Todd mumbled.

“Have you had your first kiss yet?” Todd’s cheek turned red, and he shook his head “Alright, alright,” Charlie chuckled. Todd spun the bottle and the game kept going.

After a few rounds and weird imitations, the bottle landed on you. It had landed on Charlie the turn before so he was the one asking “Truth or dare?” he asked mischievously.

You thought about it for a moment, most had chosen truth and you wanted to play “Dare”

Charlie smirked and his eyes flickered quickly to Neil before finding you again “I dare you… to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

You stared at him without saying anything, your lips slightly parted and your cheeks warm. You heard the boys whispering and a ‘oooh’ from Meeks. “Uhm… alright,” you said.

You took a deep breath and turned to your left so you could face Neil. You slowly leaned in and pressed your mouth to his. The cave was now filled with cheers and ‘wooh ooh” from the boys. It was nice kissing him, his lips were soft and smooth and you didn’t really want to stop.

 Neil’s cheeks were red when you pulled away– a second too late to pretend you didn’t like it. You looked away, breath heavy, you were still flustered and so was he.

After a minute, the noise calmed down and they went back to playing. But you couldn’t look at Neil anymore, too shy now. Eventually, it got late. The cave wasn’t really far from Welton but you still had to bike home after reaching their school. “I might have to go now,” you announced.

Everyone said goodbye and you put a foot outside, turning your torchlight on. As you started to walk you felt a hand on your shoulder “Wait-”

It was Neil, with his soft smile you wished you could kiss again “I can walk you back so you don’t get lost,” he said as he walked by your side.

“O-oh,” you smiled “Okay.”

You both were silent the entire time, both of your mind preoccupied by the kiss. It was supposed to be a simple, meaningless kiss. But no, you wanted more.

When you reached Welton, your bike waiting against a wall, you turned around “Well… I guess that’s where we split up,” you said.

“I guess, yeah,” he smiled. He watched you as you got on your bike. He had to say something before you left. “Hey I just…”

You glanced at him, head tilted, you waited for him to say more. Even in the faint light from the torchlight you could still see the crimson shade of his cheeks.

He let out a long exhale “For earlier. I mean… the kiss. You… You really thought I was the hottest guy in the cave?”

You chuckled, not expecting this “Well yeah of course, Neil”

Neil’s smile widened “Okay, good.” You could see he was a little nervous “Maybe I’m reading things wrong but… I… I think to me the kiss meant more than just a truth or dare. I mean… I like you and yeah…”

Your heart was about to explode. No way. “I… really?”

“Yes,” he smiled “really.”

You grinned “Well… I like you, too,” you said “And I guess… I kinda want to kiss you again.”

Neil stepped closer “You do?”

“Mmh hmm,” you smiled, you leaned in and your lips brushed his.

You kissed again, but this time it was just the two of you, no cheers for anyone, no boys to watch you amused. You rested your hand on his cheek as you slowly deepened the kiss. His hand got tangled in your hair.

“I could definitely get used to this. Yeah we should do it again,” he said when he pulled away

Your lips tugged into a smirk “Is that a truth or a dare?”

“Both,” he said before kissing you again.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

⋆ ★ neil perry taglist: @cauliflowertree @moonlitmeeks @toindeedbeag0d @meredarling @juneberrie @mystic-writings @natashxromanovf @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @spookydarkwitch @duxpuella @imshiningjustforyou @vancitycharlie @venussflytraps @diorgirl444 @dori-and-gray @maddipoof @starlit-epiphany

[honeysuckleharringtons]

"Star Boy" ~ B. Hargrove

Summary: When Billy and Reader go for a late-night drive, the stars are just too beautiful to not stop and gaze at them.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x GN!Reader (R wears a skirt though)

Word Count: 1,043

Content Warnings: a mild sexual joke, i think that's it? unless you count Billy being very out of character lol

Extra Notes: this is kind of rushed because i simply don't know to write a Billy fic lol, i hope you guys enjoy regardless of my crappy writing!

Originally Written: 10/24/2023 through 10/25/2023

honeysuckleharringtons masterlist can be found here!

halloweek masterlist can be found here!

The windows were down and the radio was cranked up, the cool October breeze surrounding you like the perfect weighted blanket.

Billy's left hand was settled on the steering wheel, the other placed affectionately in yours. He hummed along to the AC/DC track playing in the stereo, a sound that was, quite literally, music to your ears. You'd always told him he should join a band, but he simply insisted that he didn't want to, since you were the only girl he wanted fawning over him.

His fingers tapped against the leather of the steering wheel, the noise bringing a strange sense of comfort to you. It was truly nights like these that you lived for. No matter how many late night drives you and Billy went on, no matter how many ten p.m. trips to 7-Eleven you took together, you'd truly never get your fill.

Billy spoke up abruptly, breaking you from your thoughts as you watched the passing trees. "You wanna do something fun and a little bit illegal?"

You raised an inquisitive brow in his direction. "Are you trying to get Neil to kill me or you?" you questioned, though internally curious about where this was going.

"Don't worry about him. If we play our cards right, he'll never know," he said. He lifted your hand to his lips, leaving a gentle—and somewhat persuasive—kiss over the soft skin of your knuckles.

It didn't take much to have you agreeing, and soon, he'd whipped the car in a different direction, heading toward what you could only assume was the middle of nowhere, given the sheer amount of trees surrounding the vehicle.

A few minutes later, he was putting the car in park and hopping out, jogging over to your side to grab the door. Once again, Billy was taking your hand in his, this time leading you over to what appeared to be a tall, white fence. The moonlight sparkled along the wood and on the fresh green grass, and you soon realized exactly where he was leading you.

"Why are we at the country club?" you whispered, almost anticipating for someone to catch you.

"You'll see," he simply answered before his hands were distracting you, grabbing you by the waist. "Come here, I'll give you a boost up."

"As long as you don't try to look up my skirt," you scolded, a defensive finger pointing at his face.

"I would only look up your skirt if I was given proper consent first."

You mumbled something sarcastic about him clearly being a gentleman before he was hoisting you up on his shoulders. Billy practically tossed you over the fence like a sack of potatoes, leaving you to wonder just how many pounds he was bench pressing at the gym.

The sight on the other side of the fence had you nearly in tears. A blanket was spread across the luscious grass, the moon shining on the lake beside it. Pillows and unlit candles surrounded the area, and your heart flipped at the sight. "Billy," you simply said, a thousand emotions hidden in the word.

"Do you like it?" he asked, joining you behind the fence.

"I love it," you smiled through teary eyes. You all but pulled him toward the blanket, though you were internally curious as to why he was being so romantic all of a sudden.

He moved around a couple of the pillows to make the space more comfy for the both of you, instructing you to lie back on the cushions. "I thought we could go stargazing. You've always told me you wanted to see a shooting star. Air's supposed to be clearer on this side of town."

And so, the two of you lay back on the blanket, your hand in his as he began to point out various constellations and shapes. Though, the beauty of the Big Dipper had nothing on the sparkle in Billy's eyes as he explained the stars to you.

The two of you examined each speck of light for hours, conversation barely ceasing as Billy pointed out every detail of Orion's Belt, every line of Andromeda. Your heart warmed at the sight, remembering how hard of a time he'd had adjusting to his cross-country move. Now, he'd found something about Hawkins that made him happy, and your heart swooned at that.

"Promise me something, Billy?" you said suddenly, rubbing soft lines on the back of his hands where your fingers met.

He turned to face you, messy curls framing his face as the moon shone down on those cerulean eyes you'd fallen in love with. "What's that?"

"Never lose that sparkle you have when you talk about this stuff?"

He snickered before pulling you up for a kiss, the taste of cherry slushie prominent on both of your mouths. "Don't go sappy on me now."

"I can't help it," you huffed in amusement. "You bring it out of me. You're like a puppy or something. I can't help but find you adorable."

His eyes narrowed in on you, clearly not amused at your words. "I don't know what they put in your slushie, but I think you need your eyes checked because I am not as cute as a puppy."

"You keep telling yourself that, you big golden retriever in black cat's clothing," you said, eliciting another deep chuckle from the man. "You still haven't promised, by the way."

In one swift motion, he was grabbing your body and pulling you down on him, eyes filled with love as he looked up at your squealing form. "I promise."

"You have to say the whole thing."

Billy held up a finger, drawing a 't' shape over the pocket of his tee shirt. "I, William Neil Hargrove, will never lose my sparkle. Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Now, was that so hard?" you giggled, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Yes, it was," he grumbled. "But I love you, so savor it because I'm not doing it again."

You rested your head on his hard chest, his scent and feel enveloping you like a bubble, made to keep away anyone or anything else from just the two of you. "I suppose I'll take it, star boy."

-> taglist: @ducky-is-dead-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @hereiamhereigo @esoltis280