#this was very fun to write and i love t4t david/angel
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Beautiful
David/Angel fic (t4t)
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Angel groaned in frustration. It was useless, she wasn’t going to get it right. She slammed her hand down onto the bathroom counter, her bangles clinking in agreement.
Maybe it was sign. Maybe she shouldn't go. She aggressively wiped at her forehead, then groaned again as she could feel tears prick her eyes, threatening to ruin the makeup she’d spent so long perfecting.
"Angel?" David called from the living room, "Are you okay?"
She took a breath and brightened her tone, "Yep, I'm fine, just finishing up!" That tone was not bright. It was abysmally sad. And pathetic. And David could tell.
A moment later, he was marching into their bathroom. He looked dashing, decked in an all-black velvet suit, salt-and-pepper hair perfectly styled, wedding band gleaming on his finger.
The sight of him just made Angel more self-conscious. She fixed a smile on her face; he saw through it immediately.
"Beautiful, what's wrong?" he asked.
The pet name brought a flood of tears to her eyes. "Shit," Angel muttered as she threw her head back, willing the tears to stay put and not run down her cheeks.
"Angel?" David moved towards her, placing his hands on her waist.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Angel stammered, hanging her head once she got the tears under control, "Ugh, this is so stupid."
"What is?"
"Nothing,” she said, waving a hand dismissively.
"Angel..." David urged.
She huffed and looked anywhere but at him. "I just...I can't get this bindi right and I've tried like three fucking times and I don't want to wear a sticker one cause I hate how they feel on my skin but this shit is being uncooperative!" Angel ranted, shaking the bottle of liquid bindi in her angry fist, "And now I'm starting to think that maybe it's not the bindi that looks wrong and it's just my face!"
David watched as Angel caught her breath, his stare dark and unrelenting. She could hear a restrained growl rumbling in his chest.
"I'm sorry, I know I'm being stupid—"
"Angel," David cut her off, his voice like water rushing over stones, "look at me."
She sighed and raised her eyes to meet David's gaze. He looked at her like an artist looks at their muse—taking note of each detail of her skin, following the flow of her bone structure, noticing where the light hit her nose and cheeks and lips. Had it been anyone else, Angel would have felt studied and scrutinized. But with David, she just felt seen. And when he spoke, it was like being serenaded:
"Now, you know I don't say things flippantly. I mean what I say. So, hear me when I say this. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. —Ah, ah—" David interjected, cutting Angel off as she opened her mouth to argue, "The most beautiful woman. You look radiant. You look luxurious. You're breathtaking—always. With and without your makeup. With and without your bindi. No matter where you are, what you're wearing, what you're doing. You are the most beautiful. You hear me?"
Angel would have done anything to stay held in his gaze. "Yeah, I hear you,” she mumbled, not entirely convinced.
"Good. Now can I give you a kiss, or will that mess with your makeup?"
"No, you can give me a kiss."
David smirked and gingerly pressed a kiss to Angel's glossy lips. "Now give it here," he muttered.
"What?"
"The bottle," David replied, "Give it."
Angel passed him the liquid bindi and watched silently as he unscrewed it and pulled out the applicator.
"Hold still," David murmured, placing a delicate finger under her chin and tilting her head up. He held the applicator with a steady hand and dabbed her forehead with it once, then twice for good measure.
"Does that work?" David asked as he stepped back, putting the applicator back in the bottle.
Angel blinked from her love-induced stupor before turning to face the mirror. The angles of her figure that she had been agonizing over now appeared…softer. The royal blue fabric of her saree flowed over her curves just as she had been intending. Her jhumka earrings framed her jaw, the light reflecting off the gold bells and dancing playfully across her smooth skin. And the maroon bindi, placed precisely where she’d wanted it, brought the entire ensemble together. Angel started to see what David had been talking about. Radiant. Luxurious. Beautiful.
“It’s perfect,” she exhaled, before turning back around to face him, “Thank you.”
“Of course,” David said, giving her another small kiss, “anything for my angel. Now come on, let’s go.”
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thanks for reading! i'm putting my thoughts here cause there are too many for the tags :P
I’ve been feeling like my fics have been a bit too dialogue-heavy, so I wrote this to practice my descriptive writing. (There still ended up being quite a bit of dialogue but oh well.)
I also kinda wanted to explore the struggle of dressing formally as a trans person. I often will have a cool formal outfit in mind for an event, but when I put it on everything looks wrong on my body and I end up not wanting to go to the event at all.
Also please note, I am not South Asian. I tried my best to do research and write accurately/respectfully, but if I wrote anything wrong feel free to correct me and please know it was not done maliciously. <3
tag: @angel-shaw
#this was very fun to write and i love t4t david/angel#i think it's rare that either of them feel dysphoric but when they do they find so much love and support in each other#also they are both unbelievably hot#like it is truly unfair how hot they are#and when they're TOGETHER???#mayhem is brewing#redacted fanfic#redacted asmr#redacted fandom#redacted audio#redactedverse#redacted angel#redacted david#redacted headcanons
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