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#I will add it to my bookshop thank you!
addledmongoose · 3 months
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Best of 2023 Good Omens Fanfiction
This is my list of the 20 best Good Omens fanfiction works I've read in 2023.
A few notes:
These are all complete works; there are no WIPs in the list.
Please feel free to let me know if a link stops working
It's not an ordered list. That would be far too difficult.
You'll probably recognize some of the most popular ones. They're popular for a reason, after all, but I hope you find something you haven't yet read.
The majority are full-length works, but there are definitely some shorter pieces.
These are certainly not the only good works I've read, but they are the ones I'm most likely to read more than once
Click the Keep Reading to see the list
If you're the author of one of these, first off, thank you! But second, if you want me to add your tumblr name to your story, let me know, and I'll edit.
This first section, they're still angel and demon, or at least one of them is. In other words, it's at least somewhat set in the Good Omens universe.
a lighthouse (burning) (108K; Rated M)
This one is canon divergent and set in the 19th century. Aziraphale goes to a lighthouse to figure out where all the lighthouse keepers disappeared to, and Crowley follows along. This one is a bit of a spooky mystery along with the romance, and the writing style is simply beautiful. You really get a sense of being trapped in this lighthouse in the middle of nowhere.
***
The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It (79K; Rated E)
It's honestly hard to remember that this one isn't human AU, but they're still just as angelic/demonic as ever. Aziraphale joins Grindr and starts texting (and then sexting) with a charming young man. It's no secret to the reader who this new hookup is. This story is genuinely funny at times. I like the funny ones.
***
The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down (103K; Rated M)
This is one of the best reverse omens stories I've read that isn't technically a reverse omens. Crowley wishes things were different after leaving the bookshop, and the universe gives him his wish. He finds himself in a world where Aziraphale hates him, Death has trouble taking lives, and basically everything you knew about the world of Good Omens is upside down. It's very funny. It uses inline footnotes (which is good, because it has a LOT of footnotes), and Death is hilarious.
***
it's a new craze (5K; Rated T)
Another one that seems like it should be human AU but isn't. Crowley and Aziraphale start up a podcast after the Notpocalypse and gain a loyal fanbase who can't figure out if they're a couple or not. They often forget who their audience is and often reference events in their shared history that make no sense to the humans listening.
***
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a demon in possession of a mobile phone, must be in want of attention (6K; Rated G)
And yes, that is the entire title. Another funny short story where a couple of podcast hosts receive a call from a certain angel whose demon trapped himself in his phone and won't leave.
***
In Mixed Company, or the Corporate Retreat of Heaven and Hell (52K; Rated M)
I've read this one at least three times, and it's probably my favorite of all. Every 300 years, Heaven and Hell share a company retreat on Earth during which angels and demons surrender their celestial powers and hold retreats. It has a great new angel friend of Aziraphale's; Hellish Powerpoint presentations; Gabriel being annoyingly chipper; and Aziraphale and Crowley sneaking around like teenagers trying to find some alone time.
***
How To Woo A Demon (24K; Rated T)
Aziraphale researches demonic courtship rituals and starts implementing them in order to convince Crowley he wants to take their relationship to the next level. Crowley is very confused by Aziraphale's actions. Another cute, funny one.
***
Factory Settings (107K; Rated T)
This one is famous for coming out practically as S2 dropped, making people think whoever wrote it (the author is anonymous) had something to do with the production of the show.
This is the only one I'm going to say anything negative about. There are a lot of spelling errors and typos in it. It needs a hard editing pass. Despite that complaint, I devoured this story as fast as I could scroll. It's that good, and even knowing all the errors are there, I'll probably still re-read it. I'm usually pretty picky about errors like that, so for me to overlook it and even recommend it, means I really liked it.
Crowley gets reinstated as the angel, Raphael, with no memory of his time as Crowley, and Aziraphale struggles to return him to his demonic self. It's heart-breaking and wonderful and I absolutely loved it.
***
One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) (17K: Rated E)
Much like In Mixed Company, Heaven and Hell come together for a corporate retreat on Earth. In this one, some totally random demon who's name definitely doesn't rhyme with Bowley created a wager in Hell to see which demon could bed an angel first.
Another funny one. This time, a lot of the humor comes from the demons doing their best to pick up the angels with really bad pickup lines.
***
We Only Said Goodbye with Words, I Died A Hundred Times (9K; Rated E)
If I could learn to write even half as good as this, I'd be ecstatic. The emotions the author packs into this story are mind-blowing.
Crowley receives a cursed amulet that creates an ever-increasing need for the person he wants the most and goes to Aziraphale.
***
To reveal my heart in ink (29K; Rated E)
Aziraphale starts writing letters to Crowley by mail. The letters they exchange slowly get more and more explicit.
***
Pray For Us, Icarus (66K; Rated G/T)
The author wrote this one as a series, so each one varies in chapter count and rating, but they tell a single, contiguous story.
This was the first long-form GO fanfiction I read, and it was way too close to the ending of S2. I really should've waited a while, because holy cow, is this one heartbreaking.
For three hundred years, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has spent those three hundred years trying to restore him to his true self.
The author, Atalan, is probably one of the best writers on the site. This story is stunning in the quality of its writing, in the pacing of the story, and in the emotions evoked. I normally don't like being sad (like I said, I like the funny ones), but I've saved this story off to make sure I always have it.
***
Pretend For Me (53K; Rated E)
In a panic, Aziraphale tells the archangels that he survived hellfire due to his soul mixing with Crowley's because they're in a romantic and sexual relationship, but now they want them to prove it.
I'm a sucker for fake relationship stories, and there aren't a whole lot of them where the characters are still angel/demon, but this one is. It's another fun one, though a bit more angsty than some of those I listed above.
***
The following are all human AU. Good chance you'll recognize all or most of these.
Married At First Sight (147K; Rated T)
One of the most recently completed stories in the list, this is a fake relationship story where Aziraphale and Crowley join a reality show that marries complete strangers off to each other. Their new marriage starts off on a less than idyllic foot and they decide to fake it for the show. The author is a master of making you want to scream "for fuck's sake, just talk to each other, you walnuts!"
Probably one of my favorite fake relationship stories.
***
Postcards From Paris (12K; Rated G)
The author, ghostrat (@mrghostrat), is a fantastic writer of human AU, and it's worth going through his entire backlist (and read his current WIPs, too).
Crowley moves into his Mayfair flat and starts receiving postcards addressed to the previous tenant from one A.Z.F., who is in Europe hunting for bizarre bibles and rating wine. Sweet and fluffy and the perfect antidote if you've just been on an angst binge.
***
Or Be Nice (151K; Rated E)
I stayed up until 6:30 in the morning reading this one, crashed for three hours, then read until I finished it. Then that night, I started it again.
This is, without hesitation, my all-time favorite human AU. It's funny. I love the author's version of the characters, and I will probably end up reading it again in just a few months. I probably already would have if it wasn't for the length of my Mark For Later and Subscription lists.
Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbors who get into a noise war. They both have their reasons for their actions, though to be honest, Crowley is a bit of an ass at first. Once they really start talking, though, they are absolutely wonderful together.
Even if you've never read a human AU, I recommend at least giving this one a try.
***
What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) (213K; Rated E)
This is the third charlottemadison work on this list. 15% of this list is just this one author. That's how good they are.
Aziraphale works as an English teacher. Crowley is the guardian for his nephew, Adam, and works for a school testing company. Crowley can't risk his job dating his nephew's gorgeous and charming teacher. Unless...
Crowley comes up with a crazy plan. Now he just has to convince Aziraphale to go along with it.
Again, another very popular human AU. One thing I love about this story is how there's a lot less angst between the two characters, and how they both really care for Adam.
***
Slow Show (95K; Rated E)
The very first human AU I read. Didn't even think I'd like that specific genre until I read it. Now, as you can see, it's about half of my reading list.
This is an actor AU. Aziraphale (named Avery here) and Crowley are actors working together on a new show. Avery is an award-winning, straight-laced, well-respected actor; Crowley is a mess who immediately falls head-over-heels for him and somehow has to get through the show without letting his (apparently straight) costar realize that.
***
South Downs (76K; Rated E)
Another actor AU. This time, Aziraphale is an openly-gay actor, well-respected for his period drama work. Crowley is a once-blackballed actor who jumps at the chance to star in a gay Regency romance with Aziraphale in the hopes it can restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley is struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.
I love the growing friendship between these two as much as the romance. I love how comfortable and confident Aziraphale is here; and how caring he is toward Crowley's growing awareness of his sexuality.
***
This one doesn't really fit either category, so I'm putting it here.
The Rose and the Serpent (56K; Rated M)
By the same author as Pray For Us, Icarus comes a GO retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Aziraphale is sent off by his older brother, Gabriel, into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle. Turns out, neither the snake nor the castle are what he was expecting.
Light-hearted and with very memorable characters, the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale is simply stunning. I love how Newt and Anathema are used here. The quality of this one is as good as Icarus, and I loved this one so much I could easily have read 300K more words.
***
And bonus: mine!
The Beginning of the End (Again) (79K; Rated M)
The first fanfiction I've ever written and the first book I've written in a decade. I had the first two chapters in mind after finishing S2, and the story grew from there. I actually have a sequel in mind after I finish another, separate fake relationship story.
Crowley spends months drowning his sorrows after Aziraphale accepts the Supreme Archangel position, until a group of demons shows up one day and tells him the Second Coming is nearly upon them, and they want him to stop it. Turns out being a demon isn't much fun if there are no humans left to tempt.
Aziraphale has spent these last months in Heaven looking for ways to stop the Second Coming while mourning the way he and Crowley left things. After discovering that Hell's minions have been tasked by the Metatron to escort the son of God on a tour of Earth in preparation for his Second Coming, he hurries down to see what's going on, fearing the worst.
Instead he discovers Crowley escorting the Messiah around Earth. Is his demon taking the son of God on dates?
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beauspot · 8 months
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Good Omens Is a Big Deal
With everything going on I haven’t acknowledged how grateful I am for what Neil (and John) did this season. I always saw Good Omens as a romantic story and everyone involved seemed to be super supportive of that. To actually see a follow through on those themes was wonderful though. To see Aziraphale continue to look at Crowley like he’s the earth, the moon, and the stars. To see Crowley continue to save his angel not because he needs them to, but because they love him.
To see them have their dinners, and give the other access to their prized possessions. To see them dance. They love each other. They are in love with each other and it’s not implied or a throwaway line that can be edited out.
It’s the beating heart at the center of the story.
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And they weren’t meant to be. Neil himself will tell you when he and Terry wrote the book Aziraphale and Crowley were meant to be friends and that’s it. Over time their relationship evolved and where a lot of writers would simply ignore that and keep pushing forward Neil pivoted and said “you know what? let’s see where this goes.” The last time I can remember something like this happening was with Hannibal years ago, it’s so rare with queer pairings.
I know everyone was excited about the kiss and it is refreshing to see queer people actually get to kiss, it’s still not something that happens all the time, but that’s not what made them canonically queer to me. If they remained completely asexual and never kissed or showed interest in kissing one another I’d feel the same. While I always felt they were queer what sealed it for me were 3 things:
1. Nina and Maggie, a romantic pairing that parallel our angel and demon break down to Crowley how she and Aziraphale are partners (and it’s clear they don’t mean business partners, does Crowley look like he runs a bookshop?) but they never say what they’re really thinking. They go on to state how that’s all they needed, the obvious implication here being that Nina and Maggie shared their romantic feelings with one another and that Crowley and Aziraphale need to do the same. Upon hearing this Crowley takes that as a sign to confess his feelings.
2. Gabriel and Beelzebub, another pairing that parallels Crowley and Aziraphale who are also clearly in love with one another is something Crowley references while he is confessing his feelings. “If those two lovestruck idiots can go off together, so can we. Because I love you.”
3. Crowley and Aziraphale express plainly to each other that they need the other. Crowley says to Aziraphale he wants to stop pretending they aren’t a team, a group, a them.
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Aziraphale says verbatim “We can be together.” and “I need you.” He doesn’t say “We can work together” or “I need you to help me” or some other cop out that a lot of other shows or movies might come up with to continue to bait their fans, while having plausible deniability.
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They love each other and it’s not platonic.
To me, the kiss serves as a way to seal the deal for people who only understand queer love when it’s punching them in the face. That’s not to say queer people can’t like the kiss, it’s one of my favorite scenes in the show simply because of how heartbreaking it is, but they were a couple to me long before that. And to add onto that by making every other important pairing in the show queer as well? Nina and Maggie being happy sapphics who don’t die at the end. They’re not together, but the implication is that one day they will be. Two non-binary beings—Gabriel and Beelzebub—falling in love and choosing to be with one another forever. The angels and demons are all genderless and no one misgenders them and no one gives a FUCK.
That means so much to me and I genuinely cannot express how thankful I am that this show and this season were made. The only thing I can say is thank you for standing for something, because not everyone does.
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greensagephase · 7 months
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Nonviolent Communication - Part Six
Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader
Summary: A few weeks after your first mission with Miguel, he shows up at your apartment to show you something.
Word Count: 10,161 (Someone needs to take my laptop away from me. I promise this will be the longest part. I won't let it happen again.)
Warning: Soft Miguel; Sad Miguel; It made me wish for summer to end even more; Some readers may not recognize some food items mentioned but it's not too important for the plot, however, you can find a guide right here if you want to know what they look like; Slight mention of abuse
Music inspo while writing:
"Luna de Xelajú" - Gaby Moreno, Oscar Isaac (I love this song so much. The Gaby and Miguel edits with this song make me want to sob each time 🥹)
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine |
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Part Six
The trees in your city slowly change colors as the weeks go by. The greenery of summer fades only for nature to offer its orange, yellow, and red hues on your morning patrols. The sun retreats into hiding sooner, while the moon and stars emerge earlier, lighting the early, chilly evenings. It’s finally autumn. Coffee and book shops play autumnal music in the background as quiet and intimate conversations take place in small, cozy corners. The sweet scent of cinnamon and coffee fills the air. People walk the streets wearing cozy and warm apparel, coffee in hands to provide warmth. When you walk on the busy sidewalks of your city to buy groceries, you see the lively colors of autumn behind condensed window displays. You take notice of the faux autumn leaves and twinkling lights. The sight of mums and pumpkins meets you here and there.
You begin to go out to bookshops more often. You spend time with your friends, both outside and during work. Your friendship with them grows stronger. They visit you in your universe as you start inviting them for dinner at your humble apartment. You slowly begin to talk about Peter with them, feeling easier to bring him up each time you do so.
Many weeks have gone by since your first mission with Miguel. It’s not the last one. You find yourself going on missions with Jess, one other person, and him once a week now. You are no longer surprised by it. It’s normal. One week he assigns you to the same side of the city he works on, the next one he doesn’t. It’s a pattern. Each time you work on the same side, he suggests that the two of you swing through the city when you’re both done scanning for anomaly matter.
It's part of the surveillance and learning plan he has implemented, of course. So, this makes perfect sense. Every other week, you find yourselves on the tallest building’s rooftop, overseeing the city. Sometimes you talk briefly. Sometimes Miguel tells you about anomalies that have been caught from that universe in the past, before your recruitment into the Spider Society. Before you knew of each other’s existence. Other times, it’s you who tells him about anomalies you have caught with other colleagues. You listen intently to each other’s words as a form of respect and trust.
You continue to organize Miguel’s lab. With the weekly assigned missions, your time organizing his lab, and the minutes before scheduled meetings that add up, you begin to spend roughly four hours around the founder and commander of the Spider Society each week. You continue to take coffee for meetings, arriving early as always. Miguel sometimes talks to you about the anomalies from the previous week before anyone else arrives, your conversation ceasing when other ears enter the room. Sometimes you take food to him when you arrive to organize the lab. Miguel is no longer surprised like he used to be about the coffee cups, or like the first time you took him empanadas weeks ago. He accepts the food, and thanks you.
Without fully realizing it, there’s a shift between the two of you. So subtle, like the changing leaves of trees in autumn.
It’s the first of November. You walk around your apartment with your fall playlist playing in the background as you do random chores even though it’s ten at night. You do laundry you needed to catch up on. You put away the little amount of Halloween decorations you have. You wash dishes and clean the kitchen. You fix the throw blanket on your couch. You dust your furniture. It’s all a bunch of random chores that you’ve been meaning to do but have been too busy to get done over the week due to missions, patrolling your city, and Halloween. A lot of petty crimes occur on the holiday because people think they can get away with it if they wear costumes.
You’re also hit with a random spur of energy, so you take advantage of it. You move quietly around your apartment, your music filling the space that would otherwise be silent. As you clean, you think about how different this year has been compared to the last three years. You especially think about this as the holidays are right around the corner now. For once in three years, you have plans for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. Peter and Mary Jane are hosting Friendsgiving at their universe. Mr. and Mrs. Morales invited you and the rest of the group for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day to their building’s party and then again for New Years.
It's been so long since you even celebrated. You found no point since it was just you and you cut off your friends from your universe. You smile as you clean thinking how it will be different this year. You can’t help but stop and stare at one of Peter’s photos on the wall. He would be happy, you think.
You’re in your bedroom now, putting away random objects that have made other areas of the apartment their home for days when a multidimensional portal opens in your living room. You sense it. You walk out of your bedroom just as the floating objects in your living room fall back into place. The portal is fading now.
Miguel stands in the middle of your apartment. His eyes take in your living room, lightly decorated for the autumn season. He spots a few pumpkins and faux leaves on your bookshelf. He can smell the scent of autumn candles as the music plays softly in the background. He finally turns around, looking for you, it seems. His gaze falls on you, meeting your eyes.
“Miguel. Is everything alright?” you ask, as you stand just outside your bedroom.
Miguel looks around for a second at the fallen objects. He gives you an apologetic look before he speaks. “Everything is fine.”
You nod, unsure of what to say. It’s past eleven at night and your boss just showed up. Randomly. Or at least it seems so. You see Miguel’s eyes scan you briefly, probably noticing that you’re still in normal clothes and not pajamas despite how late it is. His eyes meet yours again as he briefly thinks about how this is officially the third time he has been to your apartment. You are officially the only colleague he has visited these many times in such a short amount of time. He doesn’t let himself think too much of it now.
“Are you busy right now?” he asks at last, quietly.
“I was just doing some chores so, no…” you say, unsure of where this is going. He said everything is fine. He is calm. That means there’s no threat to the multiverse. No need to change into your suit right away.
Miguel nods and sighs so quietly, you barely register it. “I would like - to show you something,” he says, still meeting your eyes.
You stand there for a second or two, processing what he just said before you nod slowly.
“Should I change into my suit?” you ask, still unsure of what’s going on, but Miguel shakes his head.
“No need to change.”
You nod. “Oh, okay. Then – I’m ready,” you say quietly, still standing just outside your bedroom.
Miguel nods before he clicks on his gizmo, opening a portal again. The portal opens. Its lights shine brightly around your apartment and objects begin to float again. You quickly grab your own gizmo, sliding it on before you approach him. He motions for you to enter first and as you do so, you briefly wonder if you should’ve grabbed a jacket as your sweater is on the lighter side. Your worry melts, however, as you step into Miguel’s lab, where it’s warm. You sense Miguel right behind you, so you step to the side. Your eyes scan the lab, trying to figure out what Miguel wants to show you, but you see nothing out of the ordinary. Then again, you don’t know what you’re looking for.
Miguel is standing next to you now as the portal’s colors and lights begin to fade away. You look over at Miguel and find him looking down at the floor as if thinking. You wonder then. What is he trying to show you? Whatever it is, it seems that he might be reconsidering.
“If you’re not comfortable showing me, it’s okay,” you say quietly, not wanting him to feel pressured to show you now but he lifts his gaze to yours and shakes his head softly.
“No – I want to show you,” he says quietly, and you nod.
Miguel nods back before he turns and starts walking deeper into his lab. You follow him, giving him some distance just in case he changes his mind. He walks to a side of the lab that’s not usually trafficked by people, behind his platform. Your curiosity grows with each second as you walk around it, a few feet behind Miguel. Your nose is slowly overwhelmed by a rich and sharp scent, but you can’t pinpoint what it is. Miguel looks behind his shoulder as he finally stops walking. You see it then, or part of it as Miguel’s body covers some of your vision because he’s a few feet in front of you.
“You can come closer,” Miguel says, sensing that you’re still too far away.
As your eyes take in what you can see in that moment, you immediately know where the scent is coming from when your eyes fall on marigold flowers.
An ofrenda, as Miguel had said weeks ago when you were celebrating Peter’s birthday. You suddenly remember. It’s the first of November. Dia de los Muertos. Your mind flashes back to that moment. You were cutting Miguel a second slice of cake, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing when he spoke.
“I also…” Miguel said, pausing. “I celebrate Dia de los Muertos, I don’t know if you -” he paused, and you nodded then, indicating you knew what he was talking about as you put the slice on his plate. “I make a small ofrenda for them.” You placed his plate in front of him, meeting his eyes. “So – it’s not – Don’t feel as if…” Miguel said, trailing off and you nodded.
He had shared that with you then, to make you feel less embarrassed. To assure you, you weren’t alone in remembering, celebrating, and honoring Peter even after his death.
Your eyes flicker to Miguel for a few seconds, his attention is back to the ofrenda. You step closer, keeping your eyes on him, as you do so. You stop, standing a few feet behind him still, not wanting to invade his space. Not wanting to invade his ofrenda, his act of remembrance, celebration, and honor for his loved ones.
Sensing your reluctance to walk closer, Miguel speaks in a hushed tone.
“Y/N… you may come closer,” he whispers.
You stand still for a few seconds and then walk closer, stopping next to him. Your eyes take in the ofrenda as you’re able to appreciate it more now that you’re closer to it. Miguel’s ofrenda is absolutely beautiful and you can see the effort he put into it as your eyes take it in.
The ofrenda is made of two levels, both are covered in a bright blue fabric. Sheets of tissue paper in lively colors were cut into intricate patterns and hung from the edges of both levels. You notice the second level holds four photographs, which are in physical, wooden frames. Despite the advanced universe of your boss, Miguel O’Hara still used physical, wooden picture frames for his ofrenda. For some reason, that makes you feel tenderness towards the man next to you. Your eyes move from each picture slowly. The first photo your eyes fall on show an older woman. You take in her appearance, noticing some of her features are familiar. Miguel’s face flashes in your mind. His mother, you realize, knowing nothing about her. No one knows anything about Miguel’s family. It isn’t something that Miguel ever talks about.
Your eyes move to the other end of the level, falling on the photograph of a young man. He was handsome with one of those cheeky, boyish smiles. You notice he looks on the younger side and you can’t help but wonder if Miguel once had a brother.
The two photos in the center show people you have seen before. Two individuals you know a little about.
Gabriella and Miguel’s wife.  Your eyes fall on Gabriella, noticing that her photo was more centered on the ofrenda. You notice the decorations then. Small sugar skulls made of clay fill the gaps between each photograph. Marigold flowers serve as a pop of color behind the picture frames and clay sugar skulls. Lit candles light up the ofrenda on both levels. They flicker softly, creating a soft and intimate moment.
Your eyes fall to the lowest level. You still find marigold flowers, sugar skulls, and lit candles but there are other items in front of each photograph. You remember that on Dia de los Muertos, loved ones place food, drinks, and other objects that those who have passed away enjoyed in life. In front of his mother’s photograph, Miguel placed a plate with food, surrounded by fruit like apples and oranges. A glass bottle with an orange drink was placed next to it. When you move to the young man, who you are almost certain is Miguel’s brother, you spot tamales, a drink, and two pink pieces of bread in the shape of a seashell. Pan dulce. There are also these thin, bright yellow candy-sized packages next to his drink. Your eyes almost miss it but there’s a scarf looped around the plates with food. When you look back at the photograph, you notice the young man is wearing that very same scarf in his photo.
You move to Miguel’s wife. She, too, has a plate with food, different from the others. You cannot help but wonder… Did Miguel cook their favorite meals? Once again, tenderness washes over you as you imagine Miguel spending the day cooking and setting up his ofrenda. You finish looking at Miguel’s wife section, seeing some candy and a drink, too.
It's Gabriella’s section that really strikes you, making a bittersweet feeling rush through you as you scan her section. There are three plates of food. You don’t recognize the food in one of them but the other one you do. Pancakes with chocolate chips on top. Your mind flashes back to months ago, when you entered Miguel’s lab after he found out that Lyla had hidden a folder containing photos and videos of Gabriella and his wife. He had mentioned Gabriella loved his breakfasts, especially pancakes with chocolate chips, when he was telling you a little bit about her.
Your heart aches as you continue to stare at the pancakes. You swallow the knot that has begun to form in your throat. You tell yourself to calm down. You know Dia de los Muertos is not about grief. It’s about celebrating those who have passed away. Remembering and honoring them. A night for loved ones to visit and spend time with those who are still alive.
You sigh quietly as your eyes move. You spot more items in Gabriella’s section. There is quite a bit of candy, which makes you smile. You spot small, green and white, bottles with pointy red lids. There are small packs with bright pink tablets, which remind you of gum. Your eyes fall on two lollipops. They have a clown face printed on it, showing a chocolate covered marshmallow with gummies as a face. There’s more candy, like those thin bright yellow packs you saw on the young man’s side. Your eyes move to the last plate. Gabriella also has the same kind of pan dulce found on the young man’s plate: two pink seashell-like pieces of bread.
There are also drinks in Gabriella’s section. You find tiny see-through bottles, almost the height of your pointing finger with a beige liquid and red letters printed on the outside. There’s also a tall glass of what looks like chocolate milk, next to a short, blue container with an animated character printed on it. And finally, there’s a large mug of rice pudding sprinkled with cinnamon. Arroz con leche.
It doesn’t stop there, however. The bright blue fabric covers some of the floor and right there you find toys and other random objects. Your eyes immediately fall on a soccer ball, reminding you that Gabriella loved to play soccer and was part of the soccer team at her school. You smile as you keep your eyes on it for a few seconds. You spot children’s books on the side, noticing that some of them fall under the science genre.
You remember that Miguel shared with you that Gabriella loved science and enjoyed reading. There are other toys of course, like dolls and small animal figures. Your eyes fall on one item specifically though. A small acoustic guitar. You briefly wonder if little Gabriella liked to play the acoustic guitar but of course, you don’t ask about it.
Your eyes take in the ofrenda again, all of it now. Miguel did a beautiful job. You smile softly at the sight and the fact that Miguel went to your apartment tonight to show you his ofrenda. He’s honoring his loved ones in his own way, and he invited you to be a part of it. The same way you invited him to be a part of Peter’s birthday celebration.
Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel Miguel move. He slowly gets on his knees in front of the ofrenda, with a soft sigh before he rests his body over his heels. You notice he’s looking straight ahead at Gabriella’s photo. You slowly drop to your knees, too, and as you stare at Gabriella’s photo you speak, breaking the silence.
“It’s beautiful, Miguel,” you whisper softly in Miguel’s quiet lab.
“Thank you,” he whispers back, softly.
The two of you stare silently at the ofrenda. The candles’ wicks flicker softly, still casting soft shadows on the photographs. You think about Miguel’s loved ones. He has lost so many people even before Gabriella and his wife. You can’t help but wonder now, how lonely was Miguel that he inserted himself in another world?
You have never judged him and never will for this. However, you cannot help but feel heartache for him. He has lost so many people. Why did life take so much from this man? This man, who you have begun to know better with each passing day, who was soft, loving, kind, and caring on the inside? He didn’t show these traits much these days, but you have received his kindness before.
He showed you kindness the day he showed up at your apartment to check on you. It wasn’t Jess who sent him. He had shown up on his own. You still wonder about that. How he had asked you not to bring it up to Jess so he wasn’t caught in a lie. He didn’t want you to know he had done it because he wanted to or because his true, hidden traits had led him to do it. Ever since he lost Gabriella and his wife, he was distant and cold, unwilling to attach himself to anyone again. Except, his true self was still there, hidden under the surface of his coldness and unattachment.
He made appearances sometimes. Like that day at your apartment. Or the day he talked about Gabriella to you when you walked into his lab, not knowing he was having a bad day because of Lyla’s secret. Or on Peter’s birthday. And there were other moments you hadn’t been around for like the time he allowed Gwen Stacy into the Spider Society. Even though he didn’t want her to be a part of it because of her connection with Miles, Miguel allowed her recruitment because of the issue with her father and her Spider-Woman identity.
That version of Miguel made his appearance today. Miguel O’Hara spent his entire day working on his ofrenda for his loved ones. He cooked. He cut the tissue paper. He printed out the photos and placed them in picture frames despite being able to simply display them with screens. He picked out the marigold flowers. He bought drinks, candy, and toys. He put together his ofrenda.
As the two of you kneel before it, there’s a shared understanding between the two of you. There’s comfort. Vulnerability. Trust. A bond between the two of you that has been forming over the last months strengthens.
You sigh softly as your eyes land on the soccer ball again. Miguel turns slowly to you, looking down to see your face. He sees you looking at the soccer ball.
“She loved playing soccer, so I bought her one,” Miguel mutters quietly, and you nod.
“I remember. She played in the soccer team,” you say softly.
Miguel nods, feeling a warm sensation wash over his chest as you mention that fact. It has been many weeks now since he shared that with you. And you remembered.
“I think – she must be very happy to see her favorite breakfast,” you add, looking up at Miguel.
He looks down at you. You remembered that, too. Miguel nods before turning away slowly. He has never shared much about his life with others. Not with Jess or Peter, who were already a part of his life back then. They knew some parts of his life of course but he had never gone into much detail. It had been too painful. It was easier to keep it all to himself, put away at the back of his mind while he exhausted himself with work to keep his emotions at bay.
You are the first one he has shared some of those days with. Miguel can’t help but think about the first day he met you. Jess introduced you and of course, he had thought you were the opposite of him. You seemed so happy and alive despite having lost someone. He had been so wrong about you. You carried your own grief and loss but hid it so well.
Either way, had someone told him that he was going to be opening to you in so many ways back then, he would’ve laughed. He wouldn’t have believed it, but it was true. He has opened up to you. And you remember. You listened to him. You didn’t ask questions. You understood.
Miguel sighs softly, looking at the photographs. You knew of his wife and sweet Gabriella of course but not of his mother or Gabriel. Little Gabrielito. Miguel shakes his head softly at his brother’s photograph, thinking how he left too soon.
Miguel clears his throat, turning slightly to you now. This catches your attention, so you turn to face him.
“The young man – that’s my brother. Gabriel, or as I called him, Gabrielito. He passed away a few years ago,” Miguel shares.
You offer Miguel a sad smile, not speaking. Not wanting to discourage Miguel from sharing.
“He was my little brother,” Miguel says. “He was such – a pain on the butt sometimes but he always meant well. He was always cheery. Kind.”
You nod, wanting to say that you could tell just by the cheeky smile on Gabriel’s face. Miguel notices that you seem reluctant to speak. He thinks about how respectful you always are. Again, you never ask questions. You never overstep his boundary lines. And hell, his respect for you grows in that moment even more. You are a good person. You are kind. Miguel fails to notice it, but his heart beats a bit faster. You are the closest he has to a friend these days even though he doesn’t fully realize it. You are the only person he was willing to share this moment with because you allowed him to be a part of Peter’s birthday celebration. He wanted to reciprocate the gesture.
And, as he stares down at your face, he realizes that he wants to hear your thoughts. He wants to know what you think. He wants you to ask questions because he feels comfortable with you. The firm boundary line he has established and maintained for so long, crumbles in that moment for you.
“You can talk, you know,” Miguel says softly, prompting you to offer him an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to intrude or overstep. I know how delicate and personal these moments are,” you respond truthfully. “Thank you for letting me in on your celebration,” you whisper, and Miguel detects the sincerity in your tone.
He nods. “You made me a part of Peter’s birthday celebration … I wanted you to be a part of mine,” he answers softly.
You nod once again, giving him a brighter smile. “Thank you,” you whisper, meaning it.
Not everyone understood of course but you understood each other. With his words coming back to you, about being able to talk, you sigh softly before you speak.
“Your brother – I can tell he was cheerful with that cheeky smile,” you say, turning to Gabriel’s photo.
Miguel’s eyes fall on his brother’s smile. It was indeed cheeky.
“Since a kid,” Miguel shares. “He always had that smile. It never changed throughout his life. There were always at least two girls who had crushes on him when we were kids because of it,” he says fondly, his mind going back to days that were long gone when Gabriel and he were still in school.
You chuckle lowly. “I can imagine it got him into some trouble with the girls,” you say, smiling, unable to stop yourself from also thinking of younger Miguel. You wonder what he was like when he was a teenager. You wonder if he also had girls crushing after him, and you are immediately confident he did. If Gabriel had the girls crushing, there was no doubt Miguel definitely did, too. You have never thought of Miguel in that way but even though you have never thought of him like that, it doesn’t mean you are blind. Miguel is an attractive man to say the least. People, mostly women but even some of the men in the Spider Society, talk about it sometimes. Even if you hadn’t noticed it yourself, you are sure you would’ve at one point with the questionable conversations you overheard sometimes in passing when colleagues thought they were being discreet, except they weren’t.
“Believe me, it did. I once had to come to his rescue because this girl’s boyfriend thought he was flirting with her,” Miguel says, shaking his head, missing his brother. “But he wasn’t like that. He was a good person. A good man.”
Miguel thought of Gabriel when he allowed himself to think about the past. He loved his brother even when there were tensions between them.
“He was the better brother,” Miguel mutters. “He was kind. Unselfish.”
You can’t help but get hung up on the word “unselfish.” Did Miguel think he was selfish?
When he thought about Gabriel, Miguel couldn’t help but wonder what his little brother would have said about what he did. He was so selfless and compassionate. If there is a Heaven, Miguel fears that Gabriel must have disagreed with his decision. With what he did in Gabriella’s universe.
You sense a slight shift in Miguel’s mood, even when your mind is still stuck on the indication that Miguel feels like he was the selfish brother of the two. You feel the urge to keep the mood light. You don’t want to see Miguel sad or upset, so you speak up.
“He sounds like a wonderful person. I think I would’ve liked him a lot,” you start, looking at Gabriel’s photo before looking down at the yellow candy packs. “I see he and Gabriella liked the same candy,” you add softly, hoping to lighten his mood again.
Miguel, staring at his brother’s photo, briefly thinks about what you said, and he agrees. In fact, Miguel can’t help but think that Gabriel would have befriended you was he still alive. You were both warm and happy people. Unselfish, he thought again.
“Gabriel would have liked you,” Miguel says, knowing this is true. “I think you two would have been great friends,” he says pausing for a few seconds. “And yes – they’re called Pulparindos. It’s made from the pulp of tamarind fruit. Gabriel loved them. I swear he ate like four a day. He always had some with him,” Miguel says with an amused tone but there’s no smile on his face. “Imagine my surprise when I found out Gabriella also loved them,” he adds fondly.
You nod, that’s why both Gabriel and Gabriella had the same kind of candy then. You also feel somewhat pleased with the fact that Miguel thinks his brother would’ve liked you.  
“We would go to the store, and she always made a beeline for the candy aisle. I could never say no to her,” Miguel says, his voice still laced with that fondness as he thinks of the times they went to get groceries. “We made an agreement. She could have one piece of candy each day but no more. She always respected the deal.”
You stare at Gabriella’s photograph. She’s in the frame alone, smiling at the camera. Again, there’s that toothy smile you remember from weeks ago. Your heart aches for her. For Gabriel. For Miguel’s wife.
For Miguel… who didn’t have the luxury of visiting all his loved ones at the cemetery, you suddenly realize as the two of you remain kneeled on the floor. Miguel couldn’t visit his wife or Gabriella. There were no bodies to be buried. No funerals.
Your sudden realization cuts deep into your soul. You cannot imagine what you would do if you were in his shoes. If you didn’t have at least that small comfort of knowing that Peter rested somewhere in peace. Or the comfort of being able to visit him whenever you wanted or needed to. Or the comfort of talking to him, even when you know your stories are heard by silence.
Miguel had none of that when it came to Gabriella and his wife. Your heart feels heavy with pain for Miguel. You have never thought of this and to be honest, no one else has either. Miguel was expected to move on eventually but how could someone move on when they didn’t even have the chance to mourn properly? How could anyone move on when they didn’t have a place to visit their loved ones?
It has been those small things that you have taken for granted that have helped you during your mourning period. Those comforts that mostly everyone who loses a loved one has but for Miguel… it’s not true. He doesn’t have any of those comforts.
You feel the sudden urge, for the second time in months, to reach out for Miguel. You want to comfort him. You want to hold him in your arms and tell him how sorry you are that this has happened to him. That you are sorry that he has lost so many loved ones. That he lost his wife and Gabriella, his loving family.
You want to tell him that he deserves so much more. That he deserves a family and happiness. And that he’s not selfish for wanting these things. You want to hold Miguel, and take away his grief, sadness, guilt, and any other negative emotion he still carries with him.
You just want to comfort Miguel.
Your hand, which has been resting on your lap, rises slowly, involuntarily, in Miguel’s direction. You freeze for about two seconds, realizing what you are about to do. You bring your hand back to your lap discreetly, or at least you hope it was discreetly.  
You cannot comfort Miguel in the way that you usually comfort people because he doesn’t do physical touch. No matter how badly you want to rest your hand over his and let the gesture speak for itself, you know you can’t. Or rather, shouldn’t. You don’t dare break his boundary line as you return your attention to Gabriella’s photo.
Beside you, Miguel also stares at his daughter’s photo. His mind has paused the memories and instead, is overtaken by the fact that you were reaching for him just seconds ago. He didn’t fail to see the way you stopped yourself. He senses it’s not because of impropriety or even changing your mind about it but for another reason.
As Miguel stares at Gabriella’s photo, he wonders how you know. Perhaps it was Jess, he realizes. Perhaps she mentioned that he cannot do physical touch these days. And you, as always, respected his space. He silently appreciates your respect and the fact that you wanted to comfort him. He sighs softly. It’s been so long since he has been comforted by someone physically.
The last time he felt another person’s skin was… with you, he realizes, remembering the day he checked up on you. That day, for once, he allowed his hand to be bare so he could feel your face, to check if you were running a fever. That was the first time he had felt another person’s skin in a really long time, and there hadn’t been any other instances since then. He remembers how natural it had felt to press his hand to your forehead regardless.
Miguel’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears your stomach grumble, making him turn to you. He narrows his eyes slightly as you slowly look at him.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
You shake your head, embarrassed, thinking about how you had an early dinner and that was hours ago.  “No. I ate something a few hours ago. It was just my stomach being – weird,” you say softly and Miguel stares down at you, knowing you’re lying.
Before you know it, he gets up with ease. “Hold on,” he says walking away and around his platform.
You wait there, not knowing where he’s going on, or what he’s doing. It’s a few minutes later that Miguel returns. You hear his footsteps and turn around to find Miguel carrying two cups and two plastic bags hanging from his right wrist. Noticing your furrowed brows at the sight, Miguel walks over to you and hands you one of the cups.
You immediately feel the warmth of the drink before the scent of coffee fills your nostrils when you take the cup from his hand. You look up at Miguel, with curious eyes but he doesn’t say anything as he kneels next to you again, this time much closer than before, you notice. Miguel places his own cup to the side before he pulls the plastic bags off his wrist.
“I only made enough of the food for them…” Miguel says, pausing and nodding at the plates with food. “But I did get extra of this,” he says, opening one of the bags and showing you.
You catch a glimpse of pan dulce, which you have tried before. You meet his eyes again as he moves the bag closer to you. He motions for you to get some.
“I know you’re hungry,” he says quietly, meeting your eyes. “Please.”
You feel reluctant but then again, the pan dulce looks too appetizing to say no to. You nod slowly and reach into the bag, grabbing a pink, round seashell like piece of pan dulce.
“Those are called conchas,” Miguel says as he sees what you chose. He turns to the ofrenda. “Gabriel and Gabriella loved those. Especially the pink ones.”
You turn to the ofrenda, returning your attention to the pink conchas you noticed earlier on Gabriel and Gabriella’s sections.
“Thank you,” you say quietly, holding the cup of coffee and pan dulce, feeling embarrassed. You wonder if this is how Miguel felt the first couple of times you took him coffee and then in the last couple of weeks food.  
Miguel’s head turns to the side to look at you. “You’re welcome,” he says softly before he, too, grabs a concha.
He looks away from you as he breaks a piece of the pan dulce to make you feel comfortable. He knows you were lying to hide the embarrassment of your hunger, so he turns away to give you space. He brings a small piece of the concha to his mouth, the pan dulce reminding him of his childhood when his mother made hot chocolate for Gabriel and him. Miguel remembers how Gabriel and him always looked forward to autumn and winter because the food was better. They got hot chocolate with pan dulce; tamales of all kinds, including his favorite ones, which were the sweet ones back then because he loved the sweetness of them and the fact that his mother added food coloring to make them colorful; they also got buñuelos, and pozole amongst other delicious foods.
Miguel brings the piece of pan dulce to his mouth as he thinks of the past, of his childhood. He didn’t think too often about it but when he did, he tried to only think of the memories that included Gabriel. He didn’t like to think of other memories that included the man he once thought was his father. The same man whose last name Miguel still holds to this day. Other memories included his mother as well. Some were from the early days of his life and then from her last years when they had grown closer once there were no more secrets and lies between them.
It was just his mother and Gabriel. Neither his stepfather nor biological father were thought of. Nor were they on his ofrenda. He couldn’t bring himself to add them to the ofrenda that was for those he loved and cherished dearly. Those he missed.
“That was my mother,” Miguel suddenly says once he finishes eating the small piece of concha, remembering he hasn’t talked about her. “Her name was… Conchata.”
You finish chewing the small piece of bread you, too, broke off. You nod. “She was beautiful,” you say as you turn your attention to her photograph. You can see Miguel got a lot of her features, as did Gabriel. You don’t say anything about the fact that there’s no sign of his father, not knowing Miguel had a stepfather as well.
“She was… We didn’t have the best relationship for some time, but things changed in her last years. It was often a problem between Gabriel and I in those years. He always tried to remain neutral. I, on the other hand…” Miguel trails off, thinking of the past. “I distanced myself from her for some time until we resolved our issues.”
You frown a little. Is this why he thought Gabriel was better? Because Gabriel remained neutral in whatever problems Miguel and Conchata had? Despite Miguel indicating that he isn’t as good as Gabriel, even saying he distanced himself from his mother in a negative tone, you can’t bring yourself to think of him any less. You have no right to begin with. You don’t know what happened between them. There’s so much that you still don’t know about Miguel. So much he might never reveal. Either way, you don’t care.
“We all have our reasons for what we do,” you finally say, thinking this was the best neutral thing to say. “You had your reasons for distancing yourself.”
Miguel nods, appreciating your response. “I did,” he says simply, thinking about those reasons. Thinking about the abuse from his stepfather that his mother allowed. About the manipulation. The lies.
He has never shared his past with anyone. The only person that knew of it has passed away, taking those memories with him to the grave. Gabriel. Miguel doesn’t know if he will ever share that. He put it in the past for the most part.
However, he couldn’t help but feel that if he ever shared his past… it would be with you but not tonight. At least not all of it.
Miguel clears his throat. “I had a stepfather and of course, a biological father but I wasn’t close to either of them. They have both passed away, too.”
You notice a slight change of tone. It’s laced with resentment. You put your cup of coffee down.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” you say gently. “Tonight, is for them, right?” you ask softly, motioning to the ofrenda.
Miguel nods. “Yes, but I know the other members talk. About my past. About my family.”
You nod slowly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. That’s how you found out about what happened in Gabriella’s universe and what happened with Miles. It turns out that despite being superheroes and being part of a professional superhero society, its members were not immune to gossip.
“I didn’t have a good relationship with either of them. That’s why they’re not on the ofrenda,” Miguel continues, feeling like he wanted to get it out of his chest for once.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” you reply, and Miguel nods.
“It’s in the past now. I just wanted to say it – since my mother is on it. And again, I know people talk.”
You nod, feeling sad that Miguel feels the need to share his past life. “Please know that you never have to explain yourself. It’s your life, and you don’t owe anyone an explanation,” you say, surprising yourself with your words and tone but you hope you make your point clear. He shouldn’t feel pressured to share anything just to satisfy people’s curiosity. “But thank you – for trusting me enough to share that with me,” you add, softly again.
Miguel feels stunned by your words, especially your change of tone. It almost felt like you were scolding him. He can’t help but feel comforted while also amused by it. He feels his lips curl upward as he looks down at you. You notice it, of course. The slight curling of his lips. Did you almost make Miguel smile?
You can’t help but stare at his mouth. You have seen his smile in a photograph before and it was… beautiful. You remember the spark in his eyes as he smiled. His smile was such a sight it made you wonder what it would be like to see it in person. You can’t help but feel selfish at this moment. You want – need – to see Miguel O’Hara smile.  
You want to see him happy because he deserves it.
You meet his eyes and offer him a small smile, feeling happy that you almost made him smile but Miguel surprises you. Miguel, for once,returns a genuine, small smile.
Miguel O’Hara, founder and commander of the Spider Society, your boss, is smiling at you.
You feel like your breath has caught in your throat suddenly. Miguel is smiling at you. It’s a small one but it’s a smile. You stare at it and meet his eyes. The moment feels much longer than it lasts but in a good way. You abruptly look down at your piece of pan dulce, feeling like you are overwhelmed by the sight of Miguel’s smile. You can’t comprehend your emotions, so you take a piece of pan dulce and change the subject.
“This is really good. Thank you,” you tell him, looking up at him again.
The smile is gone but there’s still a hint of it on his face as he looks down at his own piece of pan dulce. His mood is lighter, indicating that the resentment you detected earlier about his fathers is gone. You realize he found your sudden change of tone, which you now realize may have come off as scolding, amusing and you don’t mind it.
“Glad you liked it,” he says with a tone you can’t pinpoint right now as his smile is still flashing in your mind. “And thank you. For your words,” Miguel adds, meaning it.
You nod at him and take another bite of your concha, thinking. You are never going to forget this night.
The two of you continue to kneel on the floor but it feels like your distance has decreased somehow. You can feel his body warmth much closer as you eat pan dulce and hot coffee. The lab is silent and mostly dark around the two of you, but you find yourselves in a peaceful and comforting silence as the scent of marigold flowers and coffee fills your nostrils. The soft flickering of the candles on the ofrenda creates a warm and soothing mood, spreading that warmness to the two of you on this cold November night.
It is a beautiful moment, shared by two people who understand each other on many levels. It is a moment that will pass, like every other moment you have shared so far but just like the rest, it will be a moment the two of you will look back on. It is a moment that only the two of you will know of as there is an unspoken agreement these moments were for yourselves only.
Miguel eats his piece of bread, quietly. He’s thinking about your reaction to him smiling. It makes him feel a mix of emotions. Was the sight of him smiling, even if it was a small smile, so surprising? Of course, he knows he doesn’t smile much these days, but your reaction makes him feel like the sight of it is a once in a lifetime moment. That was one emotion.
Another emotion is… what is the word? His emotions and thoughts are a bit out of place tonight, making it harder to think but he feels… satisfaction? Is that the right word he’s looking for? The point is that he found some joy in seeing your surprise, and your sudden – was it shyness? Was the sight too much for you that you had to look away and change the subject?
Miguel takes a sip of his coffee as he thinks about how he liked your reaction to him smiling, no matter how small it was. He sets the cup down and looks at the other plastic bag he brought with him. He picks it up, remembering.
“There’s candy here, too,” Miguel says opening it.
You finish eating your piece of bread, making a note to look for some pan dulce in your own universe because it was wonderful, as you turn your attention to the bag. You’re still thinking of Miguel smiling. You watch as Miguel pulls out different candy, holding so much in one hand because of its size.  
He shows you the candy, and you recognize it from the ofrenda. He extends his arm out to you, offering you candy. You look up at him.
“What do you recommend?” you ask, and he begins to tell you what each candy is, even when you recognize some of it from trying it before.
You eventually go for a clown lollipop, which makes Miguel raise his eyebrow slightly.
“What? It has three things. Marshmallow on the inside, chocolate on the outside, and gummies,” you say giving him a small smile.
“You got a point,” Miguel says, grabbing one himself.
The two of you open your clown lollipops. You look at your own, noticing the gummies’ placement on the lollipop, which are supposed to signify the eyes and mouth, are crooked, looking nothing like the picture on the wrapping. You frown a little but shrug.
Next to you, Miguel stifles a low chuckle, noticing your frown at the appearance of your lollipop. He shows you his.  
“The thing about these is that they never look like the picture on the wrapper,” he says quietly as you look at his crooked lollipop.
You chuckle, noticing his has the mouth upside down. “I was a little disappointed but I’m pretty sure the taste is going to make up for it,” you say, looking at it before you take a bite, making sure to go around the gummies.
Miguel watches, wanting to see your reaction. You chew the small piece you bit off, the chocolate and marshmallow melting in your mouth. Miguel sees the pleasant look on your face.
“Oh wow, this is – I think I’m in trouble,” you say, taking another small bite, still going around the gummies, deciding you’re going to leave them for last.
Miguel raises an eyebrow as he, too, takes a bite of his, also going around the gummies, as you mention being in trouble. You finish eating and look over at him.
“I used to have a sweet tooth. I think this is going to make me return to my bad ways,” you explain as you take another bite.
Miguel feels like smiling again as he sees you go for another bite. He also notices that you left the gummies for last, which reminds him of Gabriella because she used to do the same thing when he bought these lollipops for her.
The two of you spend another hour sharing candy and Miguel tells you about each one. Miguel eats the same candy you choose each time, as if he was trying it for the first time as well. He pays attention to your reactions, noticing which candy leaves the best impression on you. He also shares bits and pieces of Gabriella’s liking for a specific kind of candy. You listen intently when he speaks, appreciating his openness with you. You notice there’s no sadness as he speaks fondly of her. At least not tonight.
“I guess we’re not sleeping tonight,” he mutters as the two of you are now sitting, still on the floor, facing the ofrenda.
It’s past midnight now and the two of you have eaten quite a bit of candy, plus you had that cup of coffee. You both feel awake and alert.
“I don’t think I was planning on sleeping early, anyway,” you say quietly, staring at the flickering candles.
Miguel leans back on his hands, stretching his back slightly. The two bags he bought earlier are between you. The plastic wrappers from the candy you two ate are in a neat pile.
“You were doing chores,” he says, remembering you had mentioned that when he arrived.
You nod. “I had some random chores that I meant to do over the week but didn’t get to.”
“I’ve been keeping you busy with missions,” he says, looking at the photos of his loved ones.
You chuckle lightly. “It’s just the life of a superhero.”
Miguel nods, knowing exactly what you mean. When he lived in Gabriella’s world, he took every chore in the house. He cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, dishes, cut the lawn, and many other chores on top of being a father and a superhero. There were days when it all felt like too much, especially when he was unable to complete some of those chores when his superhero duty called. When he felt like that, when it was all too much, he just reminded himself that it didn’t matter. It was okay if the lawn grew a bit tall. It was okay if he got behind a day or two on laundry. It was okay as long as it meant he got to spend time with Gabriella. Her happiness and comfort were his top priority, and if he had to choose which he often did, between doing laundry or sitting on Gabriella’s bedroom floor playing with dolls because she asked him to join her, he always chose spending time with her.
The satisfaction of done laundry, or a clean sink, never compared to Gabriella’s smiles and laughs. If he could pay to hear her laugh live again, Miguel would give up everything he owned. Even if it was just one more time.
Miguel sighs softly, thinking of Gabriella. Memories of them playing on her bedroom floor flash through his mind. He can hear her voice and laugh. He remembers the way it felt to hold her in his arms. He remembers the nights he had to find a way to fit in her tiny bed to comfort her because she had nightmares. He’d lay there for hours, even if his muscles were tired. Even when his body desperately wanted to stretch to ease the tension, he laid there, guarding her sleep. He remembers the natural father instinct that surged through him. It was as if he had been meant to be a father his whole life.
As Miguel stares at the ofrenda, his eyes fall on the toys, and he silently prays that Gabriella visited him on this Dia de los Muertos. He prays that she forgave him for lying. For replacing her biological father. He prays that she found joy in the toys and food.
“Perdóname, mija.”
“Do you – do you mind telling me more about her?” you ask in a whisper, noticing Miguel’s lingering eyes on his deceased daughter’s photograph. You don’t know what gave you the confidence to ask that and you quickly add, “I’m sorry, I – you don’t have to. I don’t know what came over me.”
Miguel turns slowly to you, looking down at you. Your eyes meet. He’s quiet for a few seconds but his face is calm. He doesn’t look upset, and he’s not. He’s glad you asked. He’s just surprised and comforted by how you asked. It’s strange. Sometimes he feels like you grieve with him. He sees it in your eyes and detects it in your words and tone. He has never felt like anyone could share his grief. Until you. You didn’t even know Gabriella or his wife, or that version of himself.
Regardless of that fact, Miguel feels like you grieve with him. As if you grieve the opportunity of knowing them and a life he no longer has.
Miguel nods at last. “Gabriella…”
And so, the two of you spend another hour or so together in his lab. Miguel O’Hara begins to talk about his daughter and it’s like a door opens. His memories pour out of him, and you listen intently, nodding. He talks about the times she was sick, the time she fell from a swing and the scraped knee afterward, about her playing with dolls and him having to change his voice to be in character. He talks about the car rides back home after soccer matches and how Gabriella would be filled with energy the first fifteen minutes before she passed out asleep, exhausted from the game and her excitement from winning. He tells you so much than the last time. So much more, that you feel like you knew Gabriella yourself. You smile tenderly as Miguel talks about her in a way that just enforces how great of a father he was.
It's a while later when the two of you get up from the floor. You help him clean up, despite his protests. The two of you stand in front of the ofrenda for a few minutes, in silence afterward. You finally turn your head towards him, looking up at him. He notices and looks down at you, meeting your gaze.
“Thank you. I know this isn’t easy,” you say quietly, and he nods slowly.
You wish you could say more. Again, you feel that rush of emotions for this man. You wish you could tell him that he deserves happiness. That he deserves so much more…
“Thank you for coming,” he replies, and you nod with a small smile because you feel that that’s the only thing you can do.
You fall into silence again for a few seconds before you sigh softly.
“I should probably head back now,” you say, looking down at your gizmo to check the time.
Miguel also checks his gizmo, surprised. It’s very late. When he finished setting up the ofrenda and was ready to travel to your universe to invite you, he had no intention of keeping you up this late. He thought it would be an hour or so. Instead, the two of you have spent the last three hours on the floor eating pan dulce and candy, with him talking and sharing details of his life.
For a brief moment, Miguel tries to imagine doing this with someone else. He can’t. No one else pops into his head, for the two of you speak so differently when you are alone. You understand each other.
Miguel finally nods. “I didn’t realize how late it is. I’m sorry for keeping you up.”
You shake your head with a smile. “Don’t apologize. As I said, I was going to stay up to do some chores but…” you trail off and try to put your thoughts together without them coming off wrong. You want to say that you much prefer this. Spending time with him. Keeping each other company. How can you say that without it coming off wrong? You look away from his gaze for a few seconds, trying to think of how to word this and simply having no idea how to do so without giving the wrong impression. You shake your head softly at yourself, feeling silly for being unable to pull your thoughts together. You meet his eyes again, which have been on you this whole time. Miguel can see that you’re struggling to find a way to say what’s on your mind. It makes him want to know even more what you’re thinking.
“What I’m trying to say is that – I’m here,” you finally say and immediately feel like that was not the best way to say it, but it is also not the worst. “I’m here – for you.”
And I don’t mind stopping what I’m doing to be there for you, you silently think but can’t voice that part out loud.
Miguel stares down at you, your words echoing in his head. You’re here… for him. And he knows you mean it as your eyes meet. Miguel gives you a soft nod, his eyes show appreciation.
“Thank you…” he says, with a warm feeling in his chest.
You nod and give him another smile, seeing that appreciative look in his eyes. That will have to do. Maybe in the future you can say more but for tonight, that will have to do.
Miguel wants to say the same to you, but he can’t. The words get caught in his throat. He looks at the plastic bags from earlier. He pulls out two chocolate lollipops and some of the other candy he saw you liked the most, not fully realizing that he perfectly remembers this information. He looks at the bag with pan dulce. There are only two pieces of bread left. He extends his arms, offering you the bag with bread and the candy. It’s his own way of reciprocating your words to him. You look up at him, a little surprised.
“Oh, thank you but you don’t have to do that,” you say not making a move to take the items.
He looks down at you. “I insist… please,” he says quietly with a firm yet breathy tone.
Noticing his tone, you nod slowly and take the items from his hands gently. Your bare fingers brush his suited palm and fingers as you take the individual pieces of candy. The sensation is almost ticklish to Miguel’s palm, but he keeps his hand steady. Once you have everything in your hands, you look up at him again and smile.
“There was no need for this but thank you.”
Miguel nods, wishing he could’ve done this on top of reciprocating your words. Maybe another time.
“I hope you enjoy the other pieces of bread,” he says softly.
“I have no doubt I will,” you reply, still smiling. There’s a few seconds of silence between the two of you before you speak again. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Thank you again… for everything.”
Miguel nods. “Thank you. I’ll see you later today,” he replies remembering it’s already early morning.
You nod one more time at him before you turn your eyes to the ofrenda. Your eyes fall on each photograph, and you say a silent goodbye to them. You don’t celebrate but you hope that they came to see Miguel tonight.
“Good night,” you finally say.
“Good night,” Miguel replies before you walk around the platform. Miguel remains standing in front of his ofrenda. He hears the multidimensional portal open nearby and then it’s quiet again. His eyes fall on each photograph, the flickering candles casting dancing shadows on his loved ones’ faces. He stands there for a few minutes, quietly thinking before he breaks the silence in his empty lab.
“I’m here for you, too...”
_________________
Translation for italicized words: Dia de los Muertos - Day of the Dead Ofrenda - Altar for Day of the Death Pan Dulce - Sweet Bread (Mexican pastries) "Perdóname, mija" - "Forgive me, my daughter." Mija(o) is a combination of "Mi" and "Hija(o)"
For the other italicized food items mentioned by Miguel from his childhood and items described on Gabriella's ofrenda, you can find a food guide right here that I quickly put together.
--
Ok, so I just want to say sorry for the freaking LONG update. My jaw dropped when I checked the word count once I was done editing (no wonder it took me so long). I don't think any other part will be this long. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and that if you love autumn (like me) this brought you comfort. I'm done with this summer heat 😭
I also want to ask how would you guys feel about a short Christmas part? It wouldn't be super long but I thought of Miguel in Christmas time and I just - Imagine Miguel in a chunky cable knit turtle neck sweater!! (Screaming, crying) If not, it's okay. I already have the "next" part mapped out and... I'm not well thinking about it.
As always, thank you for the support. For the lovely comments and asks. Reading them makes me so happy. Thank you 🥹
I love Miguel,
Alondra
Tag list:
@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @rootin-tootin-morgan @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp @rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @mandodinstuff @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes
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starzshopoflove · 7 months
Text
Simon "ghost" Riley x Reader
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Notes: fem reader! i hc ghost doesn't wear a mask when he's off duty, this is just whatever rot my mouse brain creates, age gap but not to crazy, sfw mostly ,size kink if you squint, literally just me projecting onto reader sorry
no thoughts just ghost meeting cute little civvie reader in a shop when he's just trying to get his shopping done after coming back from a mission just wanting to fill his fridge with enough beer and groceries that vaguely resemble food
Simon watching you struggle to reach the flour from a set high shelf in the aisle, grumbling to yourself about "who fucking needs flour anyway" still trying to reach it and he just pluck it off the shelf and drops it in your cart before making his way to another aisle and your just left looking stupid watching this giant trudge away with a little blue tesco basket in tow
Simon who notices you at the same book shop he frequents, but your perched behind the counter doing god knows what ( vaguely resembles inventory but hey do what you will) calculator in hand as he peeks from behind a bookshelf trying to remember where he's seen you before.
Civvie reader who passes her days working quietly in a book shop and living in a simple one room flat indulging her romantic needs in fiction too nervous to actually talk to men, fictional ones satisfying her needs better. That is until you see some books on the counter sliding over to scan them.
"Your total's 23.55" you mumble looking at the screen "Cash or Card?" you add before lifting your head to meet the brick wall of a muscle man. Oh OH, no thoughts as you just stare at his pecs in your line of sight thanking whatever god you believe in for the sight before you, better then anything your little brain could muster up even with the detailed descriptions authors would spit out onto the pages you read
You violently peel your eyes away from the most beautiful pair of man tits you've ever seen to see what man was the owner, and by god do you wish you werent so bad around men. I mean the wind practically got knocked out of your lungs as you let out a barely audible squeak watching this man fish in his pockets for his wallet
Messy blonde hair that was in that weird phase of curly but not really, a nose that looks like its seen a good fight, deep set brown eyes, and a few healed scars settled on the skin. Aged but like wine, a really really fine wine
"Right, cash" His hands fiddling through the wallet to pull out the bank notes, while you prayed you didnt look like a hunger dog staring at his hands as they placed the cash on the counter.
Simon who watches the little bookshop employee look like she just got punched in the gut and was trying not groan as she quickly rang him up, Do i smell? he thinks to himself
Simon who watches your smaller hands shuffle the cash into the register, noting how they're free of calluses, nailed neat and slightly grown, soft.
Simon who leaves the bookstore thinking of a excuse to go again tomorrow, not to see the bookshop girl or anything, he has his reasons!! he just hasn't thought of it yet!!
You start looking up from your notes for your class when the shop bell jingles hoping to see the mystery man whos built exactly like your favorite webcomic character but with the gruff and mature aura of that mc from the game your friend made you play that you cant quite remember. Only disappointed when its just another customer , until later in the day the man returns again.
But its much later in the day and you've switched on the shops warm lights, turning off the ac letting the place warm up as you hear the door jingle again, mystery man making his way to the counter your eyes following his every step, meaty thighs
You who perks up when his forearms settle at the counter suddenly eyes locking onto yours and suddenly very glad you tidied up a bit today, tinted chapstick, perfume, cleaner turtle neck, lashes, lipgloss, earrings ahm
"Tesco" he grumbles out unmoving
"what" well thats not what you were expecting to hear
"You were the girl , couldnt reach the flour yeah?" oh that was him
"Oh, that was you? thank you?" oh what the fuck were you supposed to say?? oh thank you freakishly tall man who watched me struggle?? let me take your whole cock in my mouth while you call me a good pet feeding your meaty length down my throat??
"Yeah" Simon didnt think to much on what to do now, gaze getting awkward now that hes got his confirmation
"Did you need anything" you finally broke the silence, god its fuckin tense in here and hes so close, you wanna just get a sniff but thats hardly workplace behavior doesn't matter if its your dads shop or not.
"Mhm, ye got any cook books?"
"yeah, section 12, shelf 9" whos he cooking for? his wife? i dont see a ring? maybe a long time girlfriend?? who wouldnt snatch up this actual beefcake
"Thanks, tryna cook something new for myself. Flats been quiet" He mumbled like speaking too much would give him a headache
SImon purchased his books same stare at the girls hand like last time as she took his money. God do something you look like a creep staring at this poor girls hands.
"Got a notepad luv?" again that same punched face returned, is she alright? he thought to himself
Oh he just called me luv oh fuck dont wheeze dont wheeze just hand him the pen and paper like a good employee, come on. Oh god dont stare at his arms, are those tattoos oh my god
Sliding back the notepad simon made pace of grabbing his cook book a slipping out the shop just as quick as he went in
You who looked at the notepad almost slipping back out of your chair
"Simon 44 xxx xxx xxx"
Children were singing, the angels sang their songs, the trees regrew in that parking lot down the street, healthcare in america was just made free, and you just got the phone number of a man built like a double door fridge that you have every intention of climbing
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threestarsinline · 5 days
Text
Children's Books and Leather Jackets (Part II)
Jason Todd x reader one-shot
Summary: You couldn't love your job more. Or at least, that's what you thought, until Jason Todd started coming into the bookshop every week without fail, like clockwork. And then you form a connection that tilts your whole world on its axis.
Word Count: 15.5K (total of 29.2K)
Category: More fluff for you all (yes, more jsjs), (plus slight angst related to mutual pining, idiots in love, friends to lovers and typical Gotham villain stuff)
Warnings: Jason stealing your heart (and you stealing his)
Author’s note: Well, here you go babes, the second (and final) part to what once was just a one-shot but that became so long that I had to split it up (despite how much it broke my heart to do so). Hope you enjoy it!
<Part I
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After that night at the dinner (that you didn’t ever want to end, though of course, sadly, it had to), everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.
Except that now, while you scanned the children’s books, as you knew what they were for now, you asked how the kids were doing.
Except that now, a lot of times when he came in the afternoons, Jason stayed in the bookshop with you until you closed, keeping you company.
Except that now, sometimes Jason brought food with him and had lunch with you.
Except that now, you texted each other practically everyday, carrying on conversations from the bookshop and talking about everything.
Except that now, your heart, instead of giving little jumps, it run whole laps every time you saw him.
And right now, you’re buzzing with nerves.
Because you don’t know where the line stands anymore, having become blurrier and blurrier with each smile, every longing look and every soft touch on his arm or the small of your back when you pass each other a lot closer than what is necessary.
And now you’re bouncing behind the counter, wondering if what you are about to do today is too much.
When that white streak that you love so much makes its way through the door, you can hardly wait to show him what you’ve found. Jason, like always, greets you with a smile and goes directly to the counter, not bothering with excuses anymore.
“There you are!” You exclaim, barely containing your excitement.
“Hi to you too.” He chuckles at your warm welcome as he finishes approaching the counter.
“I found it.” You say with a grin. Surprise makes its way across Jason’s features, immediately knowing what you were talking about.
“You did?” He asks in disbelief. You nod proudly and from under the counter, you slip out the third and last installment of a book series about the adventures of Daisy the giraffe. In the store you only had the first and the second one and the kids loved them. They had read both several times but were unable to see how the story ended since the books were quite old and very hard to find.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe it.” Jason continues as he takes the book from your hands that are extending it to him. “You’re amazing, Y/N.” He looks back up at you with shining eyes. “How did you do it?” You shrug your shoulders.
“I just tracked it down.” You answer. The truth was that it had taken a lot of time and effort to find it but the kids’ joy and how happy you felt right now made it all worth it.
“You did a lot more than that, believe me. The kids are going to love it.” Jason says, glancing back at the book and then at you once again, his eyes full of admiration. “Thank you.” He adds almost breathlessly.
You nod in acknowledgement with a bright smile.
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Jason had faced a lot of impossible situations during his life. Hardships that proved difficult to endure. From his days in the streets, to his Robin training and to his patrols as Red Hood.
But right now Jason feared that he may have found his greatest enemy. A problem hard to solve. A feat that will not be easy to achieve.
These damn braids.
Jason’s eyebrows are furrowed and he clenches his jaw in concentration. Despite having asked for help and Cass and Steph having taught him, he still was having trouble french braiding Lily’s hair.
He was in the area and decided to check on the kids, even though they didn't have a reading scheduled. After greeting the few that were there, Lily grabbed his hand and monopolized him.
She had asked him a few times to do her hair and he had tried but without much knowledge it had proved to be a disaster. At least now, even though it still felt a bit like an uphill climb, it seemed that his new skills were getting him somewhere.
They were sitting on some crates on the floor, Lily in front of him playing with her teddy and telling him his latest adventures as Batbear, making him chuckle at her great imagination.
He was working on the second braid when suddenly Lily fell into silence, deep in thought. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she finally spoke up.
“Do you like Y/N?” Lily asked, with the blunt curiosity characteristic of children her age.
Jason’s hands freeze on her blonde hair.
“Why do you ask?” Jason asks back nervously, afraid to give a clear response, as if after hearing it, Lily would run over to wherever you were to tell you. But she just shrugs her shoulders, lifting Batbear in her arms and examining his button-like eyes.
“She’s nice and funny.”
“Yeah, she is.” He coincides while slowly continuing to work on the braid.
“I like her. The other day she brought us all cookies from a bakery. They were delicious.” Lily continues, her voice acquiring a dreamy tone at the delightful memory.
Jason’s hands freeze once again. He had no idea you had done that. You hadn’t mentioned it to him. You had gone out of your way to buy treats for the kids and come here on your own on a non reading day.
Jason stands still on his seat, his gaze lost and thoughts clouded with you. He didn’t think that he could admire you more than what he already did, yet here he was, even more entranced by your kind nature.
“So you like her then?” Lily insists. She says it more in an innocent way rather than in the romantic sense, like when you meet a friend of a friend and they asked you if you liked hanging out with them. Just as Lily finishes her question, he ties up her braid and Lily turns her head, feeling him finish his work.
She catches sight of her reflection on a dirty window and lets out a delightful squeal that makes Jason jump in surprise. In an instant, the little girl is on her feet and admiring her hair from side to side, Batbear still in her grip.
Jason grimaces when he sees how the top of one of the braids is already starting to loosen and worries about what Lily will say. He still clearly needs more practice. But then-
“I love it!” Lily screams and Jason grins at her happiness. Ha, success. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She says in quick succession in a way in which the words jumble together and turns to give him a bone crushing hug, surprising for how little she is, and a sounding kiss on his cheek.
Then Lily sets off running, probably to show her friends her new hair, laughing all the way, completely forgetting about her earlier question. Jason can’t help but laugh under his breath too. He loves those kids.
He stands up and shakes his hands over his jeans to get rid of any possible dirt from the crate.
“Yeah, I like her very much.” Jason whispers, answering Lily’s question. His thoughts, as they usually tended to do, drifting back to you.
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“Oh my god, what happened to you?” You ask him another day when he enters the bookshop with a black eye. He opens his mouth to answer but you interrupt him. “Let me guess, boxing again?” You say with eyebrows raised in a playful manner so that he doesn’t need to worry about a fake excuse. But he chuckles and shakes his head.
“Not this time, no.”
“No? Impossible.”
“Okay so, turns out that Damian, for whatever reason that I still cannot comprehend, threw his phone at Tim. But Tim ducked and guess who was passing behind him in that exact moment just peacefully enjoying his bowl of cereal?”
“No way.” You say breathlessly, a smile already pulling at your lips and a laugh making its way up your throat.
He nods and sees you put a hand over your mouth, trying to conceal your laughter. The sight makes him smile, despite the fact that the movement pulls at the swelling of his cheek under his eye, making him wince slightly at the pain.
“Sorry.” You say, failing miserably in containing your laughter.
“It’s okay, go ahead. It is funny.”
You then finally burst out laughing and Jason feels his heart swell, the sound having become his favorite in the whole world, like listening to his favorite song. And he can’t help but join in your laughter too.
“Though I did drop my precious bowl of cereal.” He adds with an exaggerated pout and you laugh even more, making him feel a radiating warmth that not even the sun could equal to.
“Oh, poor Jason.” You say.
As your laughters finally slowly die down, you round the counter and lift your hands to hold the sides of his face, turning him to see the eye better in the light.
“Are you okay though?” You ask in a low voice, serious now, almost like a whisper.
And with your hands holding him, Jason thinks that he will always be okay, no matter if he's drowning or bleeding to death.
“Yeah.” He whispers back.
Were you this close just a second before? He can clearly see how the lights of the bookshop reflect in your eyes now.
“Did you put something over it?” He nods. You tilt your head, not sure to believe him with how he hadn’t really treated the wounds on his knuckles that one time.
“Some ice.” You manage to coax out of him and you shake your head and click your tongue in slight disappointment. 
“Not enough.” You say, and just like that one time, with the bookshop empty except for you two, you guide him into the break room by his hand, sit him down and bring the first aid kit. You take an ointment from it and stand in front of him. You look down at him, asking for permission with your eyes and he gives an almost imperceptible nod.
One of your hands takes hold of his face to tilt him to the light and the tips of your fingers on the other start applying the ointment softly to help with the swelling.
Jason’s hands twitch to place themselves on your hips to bring you even closer but he grabs his own knees instead. He doesn’t have the right to do something like that. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend.
No matter how much he might want to.
So he contents himself with looking into your eyes that are concentrated on his wound.
He can feel the warmth of your body seeping into his with how close you are and he can’t help but close his eyes to savor it even further. 
He has never felt safer.
The silence of the intimate moment is deafening in the best of ways. He would gladly stay like this forever.
But then, just like a crack of thunder, cold surrounds him once again as you whisper that you’re done and retract your hands from him. You wash your hands in the faucet of the kitchen part of the break room and Jason follows your every movement hypnotized.
“Better?” You say as you return and sit in front of him.
With you? Always.
“Yeah.” He breathes out and he isn’t lying. He can already feel the swelling going down. “Thank you.” 
“It’s nothing.” You say, shaking your head and shrugging your shoulders.
It’s like you don’t see how much you do for him, and not just for tending his wounds. Just everything in general. Your laugh. Your long conversations. And it kills him. It kills him that you may not know just how much he cares about you.
And it kills him even more that he doesn’t have the courage to tell you.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” You say and quickly get up to grab a heavy looking bag from the corner before coming back. “I went to my parents’ last weekend and I got these books that I thought the kids might like.” You start as you take the contents of the bag out and put them on the table for him to see.
He notices how you worry your lip and how your shoulders tense and he wonders why you’re suddenly like that. He then looks towards the several books displayed on the table in front of you two.
“Most of them are bedtime stories. My mom used to read them to me.” You start and then your small posture and uncertain tone clicks. You’re shy about this. Almost ashamed that he might think that this is something ridiculous.
As if he could think anything negative about you.
“They’re not much but I loved them when I was little.” You continue and as you tell him more about them, he can see with how much fondness you remember them and how excited you are to talk about them. The insecurity seems to leave your whole body as you get lost in your explanation of the books. 
Two of them are quite thick and you tell him that they have several different stories, from a prince and a princess that could only meet at sunrise or sunset since one of them could only be in the light of the moon and the other in the light of the sun. And that if they were exposed to the other light, due to a spell, they would die; to a story about a mother reading to his son.
Another couple of them follow the adventures of a mole at his house and at the beach and the books include a small mole cut-out that you move across the pages to make him follow the story. Another one is about a boy and his dog that go on a great adventure thanks to a magical blue balloon.
As he listens intently, he marvels at you. You really were the most thoughtful, kind and beautiful person that he had ever met and he couldn’t get enough of it.
He has to resist the urge to close the space between you and kiss you right there and then. But he decides against it. He liked how everything was going with you and he didn’t want to ruin it by suddenly rushing and risking everything.
Aside from the fact that you still didn’t know about a part of his life that he’s sure would make you push him away and send you running. Even though every time that he thinks about it, he’s considering telling you more and more, wanting to be completely sincere and honest with you, knowing how much you valued that.
“Sorry, that was a lot. This probably was a bad idea.” You say after you finish explaining all the books. You’re about to start picking them up to put them back in the bag when you feel his hand enclosing over one of your own, softly stopping you.
Your breath catches in your throat.
“No. These are great, Y/N. I love them and I’m sure that the kids will too. Thank you for sharing them.” He says looking into your eyes. You were sharing with him and the kids a very personal part of you that you held very close to your heart. And he wanted you to know how much he appreciated it.
He also gives your hand a small squeeze to show you how much he means his words and to encourage you. After a moment, you smile and nod.
“Tell me more.” He says.
At his genuine petition, you can’t do anything but carry on, your radiant smile matching his. “Okay.”
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It had been a long time since you had played any of these types of games. But you really do not remember being so bad at it.
After the reading that day, the kids had suggested (or rather insisted) on playing hide and seek.
So here you were, running around the playground trying to find a good place to hide all while questioning your life choices.
Had you really been this bad at hide and seek as a kid? Then again, it is quite easier when you’re much smaller and you can fit almost anywhere. Try doing that as an adult.
You turn a corner of the nearby buildings, entering into a small passage between the back of it and a wall separating the playground zone from the rest of the block. You know that Lily has had to have finished counting already. You don’t have much time left.
In the passage there are some piled up crates leaning against the wall. You consider hiding behind them though you know that it’s not the best hiding place. However, you’re already here and you can’t risk going back into the open space of the playground if you don’t want to get caught.
Just as you start moving towards them a voice whispers your name.
You turn and find that the building has a small space that cuts into it with a back door. Due to the afternoon light, the space is covered in shadows and leaning against the wall you find Jason, hiding. 
You can’t believe that you missed him with his impressive build.
But the place seems to work as a great hiding place, almost in plain sight yet easy to miss. So, when Jason extends a hand inviting you into it, you don’t think twice before taking it.
Next thing you know, your back rests in one of the walls carved into the building that lead to the door and Jason is positioned in front of you in a way that, even if Lily were to pass by and notice you, she would only see him. At least at first.
Jason leans his head out of the space for a second to check if anyone is coming and then he comes back in front of you.
And then your breathing hitches in your throat when you realize just how close you are, even though there is plenty of space in the small opening of the building for you two to stand next to each other without problem. Yet both of you remain in your current position, not daring (nor wanting) to move a muscle.
Suddenly all your nerves are alive and buzzing, your senses heightened and all you can see, hear and feel, is him.
You're hyper aware of everywhere that he’s touching you.
His left hand on your waist.
His right arm at your side, brushing up against yours, shielding you from view.
Your chests almost touching each other.
Your hands on his shoulders, even though you have no idea how they ended up there. The urge to bring him even closer to you, practically irresistible.
You look up to find that his green gaze is already on you. Up this close you notice that there is a slight shade of aquamarine blue in them.
You feel lightheaded and dizzy but in the best of ways. It’s like you’re drunk, even though you have never actually drunk enough to feel like this.
You realize then that you’re drunk on him. You want to drown in him.
Then the scent of his cologne reaches you and you know that you’re intoxicated with this man in front of you.
And the best part is that he seems just as intoxicated with you.
You don’t know how you two get even closer but then his nose is brushing up against yours, your breaths mixing together.
He’s leaning a bit over you so maybe you should feel a bit crowded but you don’t.
You feel safe.
The safest that you have ever been. And the thing is that it doesn't even surprise you. Everything feels easy and safe and warm with him.
Like nothing could ever happen to you with him by your side.
And you’re absolutely addicted to the feeling.
Jason is breathless, as if he has just run a marathon. His breathing as heavy as yours.
Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest with how fast it’s going, thrill and anticipation pumping through your veins instead of blood.
Your gaze drops and you suck in a breath when he wets his lips.
Your own tongue darts out to mimic his movement on your own, when you realize that they’re already wet and that he was the one mirroring your previous action.
Your eyes go back up to his and notice that his pupils are dilated. You can’t help but think that yours look probably the same.
It seems like he’s asking a question with that mesmerizing gaze of his and your throat feels dry, as if you haven’t been able to drink water in days and the only person that can alleviate it is Jason Todd.
His gaze flits to your lips once again and returns to your eyes just as fast and they seem to be pleading you.
You can feel yourself nodding almost imperceptibly.
You’re not sure you have wanted anything more in your life. Your stomach flips.
You close your eyes, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours.
And then-
“Got you!” Lily’s voice rings out, like shattering glass, breaking the spell and bursting the perfect bubble that you two were in, before your lips are able to make any real contact.
And just like that, you deflate like an old balloon forgotten by a kid in a fair.
You have never been more frustrated in your entire life.
You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to regain your senses, letting your pounding heart beat out the drug that the proximity to Jason Todd is, in order to come back to reality.
When you finally open your eyes, Jason looks just as frustrated and disappointed as you.
Your faces part, putting distance once again between them though your hands remain on his shoulders and his remain on your waist. Part of yourselves still refusing to let go of what had been about to happen, both of your breathings still heavy and deep.
“Come on, it’s your turn now!” Lily exclaims impatiently. She’s too excited about being able to hide now to really notice what was going on between you two.
“We-” Jason stops at how hoarse his voice is and clears his throat. “We’ll be right there.” He finally continues, though his gaze is still fixed on you.
“Great!” Lily chirps and she leaves the way she came, Batbear like always, tight in her grip.
You watch her go and when you look back up at Jason both of you have shy and embarrassed smiles. Sad for the moment that has left and unsure of how to proceed now.
You both suppose that keeping things how they are is the best course of action so very slowly and very reluctantly your hands leave each other. Not sure what to do with them now, since they still feel like magnets being pulled towards each other, Jason runs his hands through his hair and you fix your already perfectly placed clothes.
But as you two make your way towards the center of the playground, you both are hopeful that the moment will come again.
The road might have a few bumps on the way but it still goes on.
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Jason didn’t know how it had gotten so late. He had meant to stop by the bookshop earlier and hopefully, after you closed, go grab dinner with you, as you two sometimes did now. But he had got caught up with patrol stuff with Bruce and now he would be lucky if he managed to catch you before you left.
Thankfully, he’s able to reach the bookshop twenty minutes before you close. But when he enters, you are nowhere to be seen. 
Rose and Jimmy are behind the counter, chattering between them and just like every time that he went into the bookshop and you weren’t there, he felt his whole body deflate. The idea of seeing you always being his driving force.
But just like that other time when he entered knowing that you worked that day but Rose had greeted him, worry begins to settle in him. Had something happened that had made you change your shift? Were you sick?
“Hello, Jason!” Jimmy says when he and Rose notice him.
“Good evening, dear.” Greets Rose.
“Hello. Sorry, didn’t mean to bother, I know you’re about to close.”
“It’s okay, you’re always welcomed.” Jimmy answers.
“It’ll be quick. I just wanted to see if Y/N was here, I-”
“Does this look right, Rose? I feel like-” You say, emerging from the bathroom but then you freeze in your step when you spot him. “Oh, hi, Jason.”
But Jason is unable to answer, in fact, he’s pretty sure that he has forgotten how to breathe because he’s stunned looking at you.
You’re wearing a very nice dress that you must have changed into in the bathroom, and it’s clear that you’ve dressed up for something.
You look beautiful.
You always do but Jason has never seen you so formal and it stirs up something in him. For a second, he can imagine that he’s come to pick you up for a date.
But the joy of seeing you doesn’t last long as he feels his throat dry and he swears that he can feel sweat begin to form at the back of his neck and run down his back. It takes him a second to understand those symptoms and the unsettling feeling in his stomach.
Dread. Panic.
Because what if you actually do have a date?
Had he waited too long? Neither of you were any experts on relationships but it really felt like you two were working towards something. But what if it was too late now? What if he had let time drag on too much and now he was forever stuck in some kind of friend stage? Just like when he didn’t tell you about why he checked out so many children’s books and then it had passed so much time that it became awkward for him to do so.
His mind is in a spiral now, racing with thoughts. In one of your many conversations and hangouts after the very first reading with the kids and the diner, you both had mentioned that neither of you were seeing anybody. It was an off comment, something that you tell a friend without thinking too much about the implications of it.
But the idea hung in the air. The idea that the persons that you two were seeing were each other.
But still, neither of you had said that out loud.
And the thing was that you two weren’t just friends. Or at least that’s what Jason felt like and he thought that you probably thought the same. You two had a connection there and you were heading towards being something else. Slowly but steadily and surely, you were building something.
Right?
Suddenly, he finds himself revisiting every interaction that the two of you have ever had. Every longing look, every soft touch and that oh so wonderful moment while playing hide and seek where you two had almost kissed.
He couldn’t have possibly imagined all of that on his own, could he?
If he thought that the memory of holding your hand while he helped you down the ladder that one time had been haunting, it was nothing compared to that moment.
That moment that had plagued his mind every damn day since.
Everything about it, how you had looked at him, the smell of your hair, your hands on his shoulders, your slightly parted lips, added to everything about you from the very first time he met you, like your smile or the soft tone of your voice, creeping onto his skin and taking a resident place there. Like ivy, carving marks into him, down his arms and up his back, clasping and biting into him, leaving him red and scarred forever.
The difference of those imprints with the scars that he had gained over the years of crime-fighting and suffering was that they didn’t hurt nor weighed him down. Instead, they lifted him up, invigorated him and softly caressed his skin, like your hands taking care of his wounds, reassuring him that everything would be okay. That with you, everything will always be okay. They showed how much someone cared about him and valued him.
The difference being that he would wear your marks proudly. 
And Jason finally decides that he doesn’t want to walk on the tightrope anymore. He wants to let go and fall into the void, take a leap of faith and come clean to you. Tell you that he’s in love with you and that he wants to be yours.
He can only hope that you may lay a safety net beneath him to fall into.
And if he’s not that lucky, he would have another invisible scar added to him, from both crashing into the ground and from having at least tried. And even though that one would hurt, more deeply and a lot longer than any physical one that he may have, you would have given it to him, and he would welcome anything that came from you with open arms.
He doesn’t know how he’s going to do all of that but what he does know is that before anything, he wants to be honest with you. Tell you about being Red Hood. You deserve to know what you’re going to get into (if you even decide that you want to), before you two delve into something deeper.
The only thing is that you two are already there. Too far gone for each other, even though Jason doesn’t know that you are. The one thing that he is certain about is that when he tells you, it will change the foundations of the road that you have been building together.
What Jason isn’t so sure of is if it will destroy them, or make them even stronger.
But something that he does know, is that right now is not the moment for any of that.
So, for the time being, he settles with greeting you back and eventually saying:
“You look… You look great.” Even though that is an understatement.
You smile and shyly look down, your fingers playing with the skirt of your dress.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He says, and while you two are busy looking at each other, you both miss Rose and Jimmy’s knowing looks and smiles. And before he can help it, he’s opening his mouth again. “So, uhm, do you have a date or something?” He tries to say nonchalantly, not wanting to sound too obtrusive, but the doubt killing him.
Your eyes widen and you chuckle, shaking your head.
“What? God no, just fancy family dinner. It’s my parents' anniversary. Since they’re visiting they decided to celebrate together.” You explain, and Jason can feel a wash of relief going over him, his racing heart calming down.
He hasn’t lost his chance.
“Oh, that’s nice. Congrats.”
You nod and grab your things, getting ready to leave before turning to Jimmy and Rose.
“Thanks again for letting me go early.”
“Of course, dear. And don’t worry about the dress, it looks perfect. You look lovely.”
“No problem, sweetie.” Jimmy adds before complimenting you too.
You kiss the couple’s cheeks in thanks before bidding them goodbye, Jason copying your words before opening the door for you.
As you two leave, you see Jimmy whisper something into Rose’s ear while putting an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him. She chuckles and she kisses his cheek and Jimmy kisses her forehead in return.
Jason smiles at the fond interaction.
“They’re lovely, aren’t they?” You say, still looking at the couple.
“They are.” Jason says, already looking at you. You’re lovely too. “You’re going to the restaurant with your family now?”
“Yeah, I didn’t have enough time to spare after the shift to go back home so I had to change in the bookshop. My parents lend me their car in order to make it.”
Jason nods, trying not to look too disappointed at the fact that he can’t even offer to drive you there, and a comfortable silence settles between you, neither of you wanting to part ways yet.
But you have to go if you don’t want to be late so you sigh before speaking once again.
“I have to go.”
“Yeah.” Jason says, hands in his pockets. “See you soon then.”
“Bye.” You say and you haven’t taken two steps before Jason calls your name. You turn.
“You look very beautiful.” He can’t help but compliment you again.
You feel your whole face heat up.
“Thanks.”
You think about him the whole way to the restaurant but then again, when aren’t you not thinking about Jason Todd?
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Jason has never been more scared in his life. Well, maybe he had, when he was in that damned warehouse. And then later, when he woke up after that without being able to recall who he was or where he was.
But this other type of fear... It's almost paralyzing, threathening to swallow him whole.
He runs as fast as he can, taking long strides, his rugged breathing making him have tunnel vision and only allowing him to focus on one thing.
You.
He hadn’t liked how close the situation had been to the bookshop from the very first moment that they had received the alert. Worry tight in his throat since he had always hoped not to ever have this kind of situation this close to you.
The bookshop’s neighborhood had always been one of the safest in Gotham, there were certain minor crimes, yes, which part of the city didn’t have them? But none of the rogues had ever attacked there.
You had once joked that you thought that the reason for it might be that some of the villains had family living there. You once even said that you could have sworn to have seen the Penguin accompanying an old lady that might have been his mother crossing the street.
Yet still, now an ACE Chemicals truck had been assaulted by Scarecrow and his henchmen. The truck wasn’t even supposed to be in the neighborhood in the first place, but the company and the police had received some information that an attack was being planned and they had decided to detour it.
And now you were in danger.
Jason keeps running with his hands clenched into fists that were turning tighter and tighter by the second.
He can feel sweat gathering on his forehead and he can almost hear a ticking clock hanging over his head as he puts some distance between him and the sickeningly looking mist of muddy green gas that had exploded in the truck.
The very same gas that was quickly spreading along the streets and that would reach the bookshop in a matter of minutes.
The first ones to arrive at the scene had been him and Tim, trying to control the situation until backup could arrive.
Scarecrow’s men were taking over the truck and before leaping into action, Jason threw Tim a look that even with the helmet on, Tim could perfectly understand.
If anything starts going sideways, I’m out of here. Going to her.
Going to you.
Tim was also aware of the fact of how close it all was to the bookshop and he just nodded, knowing how much you mattered to Jason.
They had been able to control the situation more or less as more and more police cars gathered around the truck. But then Scarecrow had finally made his appearance and everything derailed. At first, it seemed like they just wanted to steal from the truck but then something happened and the truck exploded.
Between the chemicals from inside the truck and whatever other things the villain and his gang always brought with them, the gas set off along with the explosion.
Scarecrow and his men scurried off immediately after, giving the feeling that that had certainly not been their desired outcome.
But the gas started spreading and they had no idea what chemicals were inside the truck or what the effects of it could be, but Jason wasn’t going to risk it.
And so, he took a quick glance at Tim, who already had his gas mask on, helping people on the street, and returning his gaze, Tim just nodded.
Go. We handle this here.
And with that, Jason set off.
The bookshop wasn’t actually that far away, just a few blocks, but Jason feels like he’s doing the longest run of his life and that time itself is slowing him down. He has also tried calling you but the line was already overloaded with all the emergency calls.
As he runs, he can hear through his intercom Tim and Steph shouting instructions to everyone nearby and Barbara guiding Bruce to track down Scarecrow.
His heart’s racing and when he finally catches sight of the bookshop, he feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest.
The sound of the door slamming open startles you in your place behind the counter. You turn your head to tell the person that had entered to mind their manners when you are met with a red stare that you had only seen in blurry pictures on the news and heard rumors about.
You take in a sharp breath as Red Hood closes the door and approaches you in quick strides. You freeze in your place, not because you are scared of him but because of the surprise of it. Especially when you look him over and your gaze can’t tear away from the brown leather jacket that felt so familiar to you.
Red Hood grabs your wrist, bringing you with him hurriedly into the break room. And though his grip is strong, you’re surprised to find that it doesn’t hurt at all. You can hear him talking and you know that his presence here can’t mean anything good, though not for you of course, you know that Red Hood wouldn’t hurt you, he didn’t hurt innocent people, but something must have happened.
However, you can’t seem to register any of his words, it’s like he’s saying something but you’re underwater, his words sounding muffled and jammed together.
Because for some strange reason you’re still fixated on his jacket.
He sets you down on the floor next to the sofa in the break room and crouches down in front of you. And then he does something that makes your brows furrow in confusion.
He calls you by your name.
How does he even know your name?
You want to ask him but everything feels so confusing right now, like a tornado spinning around you. You only manage to utter a weak “What…?”, before you can’t help it and your hands, with a life of their own, run over his arms, feeling the fabric of the jacket until they reach the lapels and grip them.
Your heart was already racing and your breathing labored from the whole situation but it seemed like they hadn’t reached their limit yet. Though you feel like they are surely about to do so. You can feel your heart go even faster as your mind begins spiraling with thoughts and you suck in a breath when the realization hits you.
Because this… This piece of clothing so characteristic of the vigilante in front of you, you had spent an awful lot of time staring and gawking over the man that wore it several times in your bookshop.
Because this… This is the very same fabric that your hands had touched while you had been inches away from kissing that very same man in an alley while you were playing hide and seek.
Because now that you were able to see it up close, you instantly recognize it.
How could you not? When you had spent so much time with its owner, laughing while you two ate lunch; admiring him when he found an interesting book on the bookshelves; feeling understood when you shared your worries with him; taking the opportunity to touch his arm anytime that you could, covered in this very same jacket, one of the few of this type that he owned; hoping that if you were to tell him how you feel, he would feel the same way; and wishing that you could kiss him without having to worry about the consequences?
Because this jacket belongs to the man that you’re in love with.
Because this jacket… This jacket belongs to Jason Todd.
And then everything clicks, how he works nights, the wounds on his knuckles, his occasional and strange run offs. Suddenly it all feels so blatantly obvious that you wonder how you didn’t see it before.
You know in your gut what it means but your brain is still catching up with everything going on around you to fully make sense of what your heart already knows.
For a quick second, the thought that maybe he shouldn’t wear the same jacket while patrolling and during his day to day, makes you want to start laughing. Though it’s true that unless you saw it more than once, several times and very close, no one would realize that they were the same jacket. But the reality of the situation around you helps you to rein in the inappropriate laugh.
And then your name being called again finally breaks you out of your thoughts, and the only thing that you can focus on is him.
Jason’s gripping your shoulders now, willing you to focus on him and needing to have some kind of contact with you to make sure that you’re okay. He moves frantically, his eyes quickly checking the front door of the bookshop through one of the break room’s windows that look into the main part of the shop, already seeing the mist of gas slipping under it, trying to calculate how much time he has left.
He’s been asking you if you’re okay and trying to explain what has happened but the sentences come out stumbled, his brain going faster than what his mouth can follow.
In his haste he doesn’t even register the change in the look of your eyes at your realization.
He knows what he has to do but he’s afraid of what it will entail. He wanted to sit down with you, tell you about being Red Hood and explain everything to you. He wanted to be hopeful that you may understand but now he doesn’t have the chance to let you know how he would have wanted to.
It feels like someone has pushed him from the tightrope beneath him, directly cutting it, or rather, that it has snapped over his own weight, not able to hold him and his secrets anymore, and now he’s falling and he can’t do anything about it.
And if you would have ever laid a net beneath him, he’s sure that you would cut a hole open in it now.
He’s about to break everything that you two have been working towards, a shattering earthquake destroying what once was a strong and beautiful road.
But it’s the only way to keep you safe.
And he would cut the rope sustaining him himself and willingly fall into the abyss if he had to to make sure that you’re safe. That’s the only thing that matters to him right now.
And that’s exactly what he does.
You watch perplexed as Red Hood takes the helmet off and you’re met with the sharp features and white streak that you love so much.
It really is him.
He’s Red Hood.
Jason is Red Hood.
Jason, who always seemed to be checking out children’s books, wearing leather jackets and making you smile like no one has ever done before.
Your Jason.
Out of the corner of your eye you see a weird mist start to seep through under the door to the break room that Red Hood- no, Jason, had closed after you two entered.
“Jason?” You whisper. He lifts his head up from where he’s been fidgeting with the helmet since he took it off to meet your gaze, and the broken look in his eyes makes your heart feel like it has been stabbed. “What’s going on?” He follows your line of sight and his eyes grow with worry.
“Scarecrow.” He mutters while turning back to the helmet, he pushes a few hidden buttons in it and you’re surprised to see how its panels shift, changing its shape slightly but still having a head-like form.
And then Jason turns to you, his hands lifting with the helmet towards your head.
Your face contorts with horror when you realize what he wants to do.
You immediately grab his forearms, pushing them down and therefore, the helmet too.
“What are you doing?” You say.
“I have to protect you. And we don’t know what the gas does yet so I’m not taking any risks.” He pushes the helmet towards your head once again but you repeat your previous action, preventing him from doing so.
“And you? What about you?” You ask desperately, the gas coming closer and closer towards you both.
Jason’s lips pull into a sad smile. “I’ll be fine.” He whispers. It’s like he has already resigned himself to something. You shake your head.
“No. I’m not taking it.”
“I have a spare small mask, don’t worry.”
You’re still so in shock from everything that you don’t realize that he’s lying, yet in the pit of your stomach you can already feel a pool of dread forming.
“But-” You start but he cuts you off.
“Y/N, listen to me. We don’t have much time. Do you trust me?”
Even with everything that has just happened, you don’t hesitate.
“Always.”
Jason nods and puts the red helmet over your head, the shifted panels allowing it to fit your head perfectly. Jason sighs with relief and looks at you fondly, his hands still on either side of your head.
Your hands come up to cover his own and he nods reassuringly. “You okay?” He whispers, and you nod.
Everything is going to be okay.
But then Jason starts coughing.
The gas has already reached you both and gathers at your ankles.
Your eyes widen and you reach for him as his hands let go of your head to support himself when he begins lulling to one side. “Jason!” You shout.
You can see his eyes losing focus, starting to get dizzy. While your breathing keeps coming in deep and clean thanks to the regulator built in the helmet, Jason seems to be gasping for air, like he isn’t getting enough oxygen or like his lungs are refusing what’s going in them.
And you finally realize that there never was a spare mask.
How could you have been so foolish?
You try to take the helmet off to give it back to him but it’s like it’s closed off. You press the buttons that you find on the underside at the back but nothing happens. You try everything but it just won’t come off.
Nothing.
You can’t take it off.
He must have locked it somehow, almost as if he knew what you would try to do.
You can’t protect him.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” A cough. “ I swear I wanted to tell you.” Another one. “ I was going to.” He says between short breaths before finally collapsing onto the floor.
You grab him before his head hits the ground and you hush him gently.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry, it’s okay.” Now it’s you the one holding the sides of his face softly.
One of his hands comes up to hold one of your own, and you can’t stand the look of utter adoration and affection with which he gazes at you.
Because you can’t help him.
And his look is as if he would be content to go this way, knowing that at least you’re safe.
And your heart breaks all over again.
The room is covered in gas now and it’s not until your vision becomes slightly blurry that you register the tears welling up in your eyes.
You cry for help but there’s nothing that can be done now. You also try calling 911, not caring what will happen if someone sees that he’s Red Hood. You just need him to be safe. But the line doesn't work. Jason begins to close his eyes.
“Hey, hey, no.” You urge. “Stay with me, stay with me.” Jason opens his eyes once more, fighting to stay awake, but you can see in them how he’s almost gone, his consciousness slipping away from him.
“Please.” You whisper, fighting the tears.
And then his hand holding yours falls limp.
And with it, your heart does too.
You shake him, call him, scream at him to wake up but it’s no use. Tears run down your cheeks now, raked sobs breaking though your chest.
You even try to take off the helmet again but of course, nothing happens.
You feel for his heartbeat, it takes you an agonizing second to feel it but it's there.
Weak and slow, barely perceptible, but it’s there.
Although you fear that probably not for much longer.
Fear and dread run through you, you don’t know how to fix this. You don’t want to let him go but he’s being pulled away from you.
And then the door to the break room bursts open.
You look up and there Red Robin stands.
And the way in which he shakes his hair away from his eyes with a movement of his head while looking around the room frantically, trying to locate you through the mist, makes your breath hitch in realization for the second time in the last few minutes.
Tim.
Then he notices Jason’s unconscious body in your arms and when his gaze meets yours, even with the helmet on he knows what you want to say.
Save him.
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Your shifts at the bookstore have never felt longer. You had become so used to him and come to rely on his visits so much that now, without him, they only drag on and on and on, something that had never even happened before.
Even before him.
Your only solace being that he’s alive.
You often have to remind yourself of that fact when the memory of the fear of losing him claws back at you.
Jason is alive. He is okay.
After Tim found you two, he launched towards Jason, checking his vitals and addressing his state.
He told you that he needed to bring Jason to the batcave as soon as possible and you had immediately grabbed Jason’s hand, refusing to let go of him and profusely saying that you were going with him.
But Tim had only shook his head, explaining how Jason would kill him if he ever allowed you to not go to the hospital for a check up.
But you had fought him with tooth and nails, saying that you weren’t leaving his side anytime soon and Tim had no other option but to give up.
However, just as Tim was calling for Steph to come and help him with Jason quickly, you passed out.
Whether because of all the emotions and stress of those five minutes (because yes, since Jason first entered into the bookshop to protect you, it had only been five minutes, maybe even less), or because due to the shifted panels in the helmet, some gas had managed to slip in, you didn’t know.
Probably more the later than the former but still.
Next thing you knew, you woke up in the hospital. Thankfully without the helmet, Tim having probably managed to unlock it.
Through the doctors, nurses, and the news on the TV in the ER, you learned that the gas was dangerous but thankfully non-lethal. In most cases, like yours, people in the neighborhood who had only inhaled a bit just felt dizzy for a few hours or passed out for a bit.
In other cases, the most serious ones, like Jason’s, people were put into a coma-like state, with the lungs rendered to a point of near-exhaustion. But with good rest and the appropriate care, they would recover soon with no side effects.
Batman had managed to apprehend Scarecrow and just like the vigilantes had suspected from the beginning, it wasn’t a deliberate attack but a robbery gone wrong.
They let you go of the hospital that very same afternoon, with instructions that if you felt any kind of dizziness to come back. After your family (and Rose and Jimmy of course) checked in with you, you were finally able to grab a hold of your phone that had been left in the bookshop.
You were met with a text from Tim, how he had managed to get your number, you didn’t know, but it probably had something to do with the fact that all the Waynes were part of the Batfamily.
Or at least, that’s what you figured, once you were finally able to think with a clear head and digest all of your recent discoveries.
The text said that Jason had made it to the batcave safely, that he had been treated immediately and that he was resting now.
You have never been more grateful for anything in your life.
But that had been a week and a half ago. And you hadn’t seen Jason since.
You felt like a part of you had been ripped out and taken along with him. The absence of a vital organ leaving you empty.
Probably your heart, since it had left your chest and leaped itself into Jason’s hands a long time ago.
The neighborhood had been deemed safe after the gas dissipated and you were back to your job like nothing had ever happened, just like how it often was after any incident with a rogue in Gotham.
Life just went on. Gotham and its residents as resilient as ever. The fight and survival etched onto their DNA.
If there ever was something to admire Gotham for, its survival skills were definitely it.
You had wanted to see Jason immediately, and you had even called Tim so that he could tell you more about Jason’s state and tried to see when you could go see him but then your mother had called.
Your uncle had had an accident at work and he would need surgery.
Though there was some risk, it wasn’t a extremely dangerous procedure. But if there was something that all of your family had in common and that was characteristic of all of you, was that if something happened to someone, every single member of the family would come running to be there.
And you knew that you had to be there, you wanted to be there, but it still tore at your insides having had to leave without having being able to see Jason. But your uncle lived on the other side of the country and you had to take a plane that very same night to be able to arrive before the surgery the next day.
So, you had called Tim back, telling him that you had to leave, how bad you felt, how sorry you were and that you would try to come back as soon as possible. But Tim assured you that it was okay, that they would all take care of Jason, that it would take him a couple of days to wake up and be fully conscious and that he understood (and that Jason would too) that you had to go.
You nodded, trying to hold back tears and muff your sniffling due to all the stress that had taken a hold of you due to all the recent events. Tim had calmed you down and promised you to keep you updated. Helping you just like you had done when you met him.
Thank god for Tim Drake. You’re pretty sure that you would have lost it if it weren’t because of him. His reassurance a sign of a friendship for a lifetime.
And so, you left. Everything went well with your uncle and you were glad to have been able to see your family for a few days since quite a long time ago.
But when you came back, Jason wouldn’t see you.
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It took Jason two days to wake up from the coma-like state, though he had been getting better and better with each passing hour, and a full day of only eating and sleeping before he was able to return to normalcy.
Still, when he first woke up, the only thing in his foggy brain was you. He asked about you as soon as he opened his eyes and Tim told him that you were okay but that you had to leave for a few days due to a family emergency, and that you had called every day several times to check in.
Jason let out a sigh of relief. Both because you were safe and because he didn’t know how he would have faced you if you had been there.
He was sure that you hated him now. Despised him. Sure, you had called to see how he was, but that’s just how you were, caring and protective. But deep down, he knew that you had to resent him for having hidden being Red Hood from you.
He was sure that if he saw you, the first thing that you would do was scream at him and tell him that you didn’t want him in your life anymore.
And he wouldn’t be able to bear that.
He didn’t know how he could ever go back to a life without you.
That’s why he refused to see you everytime that you reached out after you came back. Letting his phone ring out when you called, later just sending a quick text saying that he was fine, that he was just busy with some things in order to not worry you. He knew that it was unfair and that he was being an idiot but he didn’t know what he would do if he saw you, even though he knew that he eventually would have to.
And yet, despite all of that, he still couldn’t bring himself to fully cut ties with you. He simply couldn’t. Needing you at least in some way in his life just as much as he needed air. As well as the fact that he knew that he couldn't do something like that to you, at least not without explaining.
It wasn’t until Tim cornered him and talked some sense into him that he realized that he couldn’t put it off any longer. 
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When Jason enters the bookshop, a chill runs through him as he shakes the drops of water from his hair. He had dreaded every single step that he took towards the bookshop, a cloud of shame hanging over his head. And then the universe had decided that he wasn’t miserable enough and so that cloud of shame had quite literally started to pour on him. He couldn’t help but think that he deserved it but still, it sucked.
He usually liked rain. Just not when he didn’t have an umbrella and was tethering on the edge of sanity while trying to hold the composure that he had created to give him the strength necessary to face you. And certainly not when he was holding a hot chocolate that he had bought for you; having already lost count of how many times he had previously done so when he came to visit you, in a sad attempt at a peace offering, even though he was sure that you would dump it on him; but that now surely was just cold chocolate.
Shit. He really was going to look like even more of an idiot than he already was.
“Jason?” Your soft voice comes through, like an antidote calming him instantly and soothing all his worries. Your presence, like always, making all of his dark thoughts go away.
Though that peace didn’t last long because you were here now and he couldn’t run now. He had to do what he had come to do.
Even though he still wasn’t sure what exactly that was, no matter how much he had tried to prepare himself. Had he come to apologize? Explain? Beg for your forgiveness? He had no idea.
It didn’t matter anymore because as usual, all his thoughts and working brain cells flew out of the window when he was near you. This time even more so than usual since he had never gone this long without seeing you. He just stands there, soaked from the rain on the entrance doormat, like a wet cat begging to be let home again after causing trouble and running out.
And you’re just standing there, in the doorway of the break room, looking at him like you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, as if he was some mythological creature and you didn’t dare to move an inch, either in order not to scare him away or because you were petrified in fear, Jason didn’t know.
And he’s just rendered speechless. His breath taken away from him as he takes you in for what possibly is the last time, trying to commit every part of your beautiful self to memory, all of those parts that he already knows by heart, before you kick him out of the bookshop and out of your life forever.
“Yeah.” He finally responds.
Great, Jason. Very eloquent.
No turning back now.
He gulps.
“Hi.” He adds, trying to act with normalcy but he winces when he realizes that it doesn’t match the situation at all. There really is no way of making this any easier, is there?
He expects you to start yelling at him, push him, anything. But you just keep staring at him. And then:
“God, you’re drenched. Wait here.” You disappear for a second and Jason can’t believe what has just happened, a bewildered look in his eyes. He expected anything but that. But he obeys, doing whatever you asked of him in his very nature, trying to move as little as possible so that he would only drop water onto the doormat. You return quickly and hand him a towel after taking the hot (cold) chocolate from his hands so that he can dry up a bit. 
You put the cup onto the counter as he shakes his boots on the mat, dries his face and ruffles the towel through his hair. When he finishes you approach him once again.
“Here, let me take your jacket. You're going to freeze.” Jason feels like he’s on autopilot as he follows your every direction, like a sailor the call of a siren. Not daring to move a single muscle or do any abrupt movement other than what’s necessary, afraid of breaking whatever is happening right now.
You hang his jacket on the coat rack by the door to dry a bit and then you turn back to him.
There’s a moment of silence, the only noise being the rain’s soft pattering against the windows, the dark clouds filtering the setting sun, casting the bookstore in a gloomy atmosphere though the place still maintains its warm glow from the few lamps turned on with a yellow and orange glow.
The place is quiet, not a single soul in the bookshop except you two. Jason made sure of coming around closing time so that you could be alone, without any other customers interrupting and, even though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, the small hope of finding the bookshop closed and therefore having the perfect excuse to delay this another day.
But of course, the universe wasn’t going to have it. He never was that lucky.
Jason is so stupefied that he doesn’t move from the doormat as you take a couple of steps closer to him and look him over. Assessing him. Studying him. He avoids your gaze, not knowing what to do under your scrutiny.
He might as well be a cactus now with how rooted he is to the goddamn doormat. And then he sees how your feet join his on it and he can’t help the chill that runs through him once again, but not from the cold this time, but from your intoxicating proximity, so reminiscent of the one from the ghost kiss in the alley.
This is it, he thinks. This is when you finally push him from your life forever.
But then you surprise him once again, when without any trace of hesitation nor fear you touch his face. Sofly cradling it as if you might still care about him.
He doesn’t understand anything that’s going on right now. He has never been more confused in his entire life.
After so many months, Jason had come to know you in such a way, so intricately well, that he could read you like a book. Just like you with him. But now, Jason is seriously questioning that because he has no idea what is going through your mind right now.
He finally gathers the courage to look at you, still afraid of what he’s going to find, but you’re not even looking at him.
Your gaze is fixated upon the small cut at the end of his left eyebrow.
A reminder of the Red Hood duty from the night before. How he had managed to get a wound there even with the helmet on, he had no idea.
He sees your eyebrows furrow and your expression change to one of worry.
And then your hands run down his sides until they take a hold of his, inspecting them over after taking the towel from them.
And you sigh, disappointed in finding what you hoped not to be there. The skin on his knuckles broken once again.
Jason feels like a stranded boat, lost at sea, the water around him lulling him to its will.
That’s you.
The rain continues on as you turn slightly and flip the sign of the bookshop to closed before locking the door.
As a lightning strikes in the distance, flashing momentaneous light into the bookshop and illuminating your soft features, you take Jason’s hand and just like several times before, you drag him to the break room, but this time, instead of on a chair by the table, you sit him down on the sofa.
And he lets you. He gladly lets the sea take his boat wherever it wants to. Even if it’s to his own demise.
You take the blanket resting on the arm of the couch and drape it over him, making sure that it stays on his shoulders before you take the towel back to the bathroom and for the third time, you grab the first aid kit there.
You return to the break room and not even your shuffling steps make his lost gaze go towards you.
Despite his big frame you had never seen him so small, curled onto himself, head hung in shame; and it makes your heart clench. He looks deep in thought, grabbing the edges of the blanket so that it stays wrapped around him, as if he’s contemplating how to say whatever he has come to say to you.
But you don’t care. He could stay quiet the whole time if he wanted to.
Because at least he was here.
And honestly, your first instinct at seeing him back in the bookshop had been to run to him and hug him like your life depended on it and never let him go. But you had ultimately decided against it, not wanting to scare him away.
His presence there still felt almost like a mirage to you, after having gone so long without seeing him for the first time ever since you met him.
So, it was a very welcomed step from just sending you short texts letting you know he was still alive and well.
And you couldn’t blame him. Like always, you two worked by taking your own time, giving each other space.
And you knew that Jason had a lot on his mind after the gas incident. In the chaos of it all, he had told you that he had wanted to tell you about being Red Hood before and you wholeheartedly believed him, knowing that it wasn’t something that you could just tell anyone at any given moment. And now he had to deal with the reality that now you knew about that part of his life.
And you had a feeling that he thought that you would push him away for it. Resent him. When it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Because now you saw the whole picture that Jason Todd was.
And you know what?
He still was your Jason.
He still was the man that you were in love with.
Someone to whom you felt connected in a way that you had never felt before. Someone that was your friend and that always managed to make you smile. Someone that was always there for you when you had a bad day. Someone that reads to kids in his free time. Someone that tries to make this city better and protects its people as a vigilante. Someone who goes out of his way to visit you, a completely normal and ordinary woman who runs a simple bookshop. Someone that didn’t hesitate in sacrificing his own safety for yours.
Yeah, you were still very much in love with that man.
And if he needed some time to come back to you, that was fine with you because you knew that he wouldn’t just leave you like that. During the last few days you could even have sworn to have seen him peering through the windows into the bookshop in passing, but when you focused a bit more, he was gone. Or at least that’s what you hoped, the string pulling you two together too strong. 
No matter how much it had pained you to have the person holding your heart keeping you at arm’s length.
Because a day or two more of waiting and you would have stormed into wherever Jason was and told him how much he meant to you until that stubborn head of his realized how you weren’t ever letting him go.
You also hoped that he didn’t resent you, for not having been able to be at his side when he woke up. Something that you will never forgive yourself for, no matter how you knew that it couldn’t have been any other way.
You sit down next to him and place the first aid kit on the coffee table in front of the sofa, getting all that you will need to heal his wounds ready. You take one more look at them and your heart clenches.
You don’t like how he doesn’t seem to take full care of himself.
Because to you, Jason Todd was a treasure. A treasure that you will never be sure how you had managed to be able to find.
And he should be treated just like one.
And that’s exactly what you intend to do.
You follow the same process as the last time to take care of his knuckles, Jason quiet and avoiding your gaze the whole time, before moving onto the cut on his brow.
You raise your hand with a cotton patch to put some antiseptic on it and your eyes finally meet his. The green in them, like always, lighting up your insides, a forest in which you would gladly get lost in.
Jason looks at you as one of your hands takes a hold of his chin to tilt his head while the other one begins treating the cut.
And Jason feels like dying when he sees the flash of pain that crosses your eyes because he knows that he’s the one who put it there.
From the very first time that you healed him, he could see how you didn’t like seeing him hurt. Yet he still had let you see his wounds and tend to them more times after that.
He really usually does tend to his wounds. Except that very first time with his knuckles that he had been so tired he had only cleaned them. But after feeling your soft hands taking care of him for the first time, it was like he didn’t want his wounds healed anymore unless it was you the one who did it.
And so, subconsciously, selfishly and guiltily, he barely tended to them, just what was strictly necessary, a desperate attempt and blind hope of you maybe wanting to heal him in order to feel your delicate touch, that Jason was sure did a lot more for his wounds than whatever any kind of medicine could do.
Your touch not only mending his wounds but also healing his soul and soothing all the bad thoughts in his mind.
But right now, Jason wants nothing more than to get on his knees and do whatever you ask of him. Anything to make the slight hurt that briefly passes your eyes go away. Beg if it's necessary.
He thinks that apologizing may be a good starting point.
“Y/N…” He begins but before he can go on any further you hush him, almost like you want to enjoy the silence and this moment of intimacy as much as possible.
Then you reach for the first aid kit again, taking a steri-strip from a pack that you had bought, along with some other extra items, knowing that the basics of a normal first aid weren’t going to be enough now that you knew that he was Red Hood.
You put it on the cut, careful of not hurting him. Jason watches you mesmerized, still not believing that you haven’t kicked him out yet.
Then, you take a normal band-aid to put over the strip, just to be extra safe but mainly because you want to see him smile.
“Is that a Hello Kitty band-aid?” He asks in disbelief, breaking the silence, as he watches you open the band-aid with the pink, red and white doodles.
“Yup.” You say as you put it, covering the cut and fully hiding it from view, Jason not putting any kind of resistance to it. And your heart clenches blissfully at the small smile that pulls at Jason’s lips. Oh, how much you had missed it, your own personal kind of drug. And you can’t help but mirror him too.
“Thanks.” He whispers once you’re done patching him up. You give a slight nod in return.
You pass your thumb softly over the band-aid to make sure that it doesn’t fall off and then you meet Jason’s eyes again, that look just like a kicked puppy’s. Shining with oncoming tears and wide in fear of what is going to come next.
“I owe you an explanation.” He finally says with a sigh of resignation and you shake your head.
“Jason, you don’t-”
“No, let me do this. I need to do this. It’s the least I can do, I owe it to you.” He says, taking your hands in his, one of which still was caressing his eyebrow and stares at them as he can’t help but begin to rub soft circles into the back of them.
Goosebumps raise all over your skin.
Jason takes a deep breath before he starts talking. It seemed like you still cared about him but would you still do so once he finally explained everything and told you the truth?
He didn’t want to get his hopes up. But he knows that he can’t delay this anymore. He doesn’t want to.
As he begins, a cracking thunder sounds in the distance, shaking the foundations of the road that you two have been building together to its core.
The question being, would it stand the storm?
You listen to him intently. He doesn’t look at you once, instead deciding to focus on your joined hands. Grabbing onto a last part of you before he lets you go forever.
“And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you. I totally understand that you may not want to see me anymore. I betrayed your trust and that’s unforgivable. Some of the things that I’ve done…” He shakes his head. “I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. Please know that. You mean so much to me. And even though it breaks me having to remove myself from your life, I know that it’s for the best.”
“Jason, I-”
“No, no. Let me finish please.” He continues ranting. “I promise you that I won’t let the feelings that I have for you get in the way. I will go out that door tonight and never come back again. I’ll let you get on with your life.”
You’re fairly sure that he doesn’t even realize half the things that he’s saying. It’s like he has opened a gate and now not only is he apologizing and telling you the truth about everything, but he’s also letting his feelings for you finally come to the surface, unable to stop himself. He’s so caught up in everything that he leaves them out in the open without even realizing it.
And you just want to smile. Because Jason Todd has feelings for you too. And he has just said it out loud. You try to conceal your beaming smile to not scare him away. He’s way too much into his own head now, spiraling around the fact that he has to remove himself from your life as some sort of self-imposed punishment and in order to at least spare himself a part of the pain that would come from you outright kicking him away.
But you would never do that. Because even with everything that he has just told you and the things that he hasn’t yet, because you know that his story is a lot longer than what an evening can hold and holds a lot more things and very much darker ones than what he has revealed for the moment, you still want to be here with him. You still want him in your life.
Nothing could make you want to stay away from Jason Todd.
Not even himself.
And if there’s one thing that you’re stubborn about is that you’re always there for the people that you care about.
You just need to make him see that. To make him see how important he is to you. And you’re going to do everything you can so that he does.
You call his name again, trying to center his attention back to you but he keeps rambling.
You can only think of one thing that might finally make him stop and listen to you while also making him realize how you feel about him.
You have never done something as bold as this before. And there’s still a knick of doubt in the back of your mind, but the mere possibility of Jason leaving and the fact that the safety line that you two had drawn about your friendship and your feelings is fully difuminated now after his unintentional confession, almost as if it had never actually been there, has you determined. You want to think that it would turn out right.
And if not, at least you would get to do something that you had wanted to do for a very long time.
So, after firmly saying his name once more, and one of your hands getting out of his hold and tilting his head towards you, just when his eyes finally, finally, lock with yours for a quick second, you press your lips to his.
It’s not a long kiss and there isn’t much movement but you hope that you’re conveying everything that you feel for him and more. You can tell that Jason’s caught by surprise but it doesn’t take long at all for him to slowly press his lips against yours, returning your kiss. He lets himself melt into it and you do too. You feel warm all over and then you both sigh against each other, the two of you having fallen off the tightrope and finding that not only there’s a safety net beneath you, but an infinite number under it, one after the other, in the impossible case that one might break.
A soft place to land, a warm embrace.
You think that you could die happily right now.
You part, not wanting to overwhelm him but just from that taste you can already feel yourself slightly dizzy in the best kind of way. You slowly open your eyes and see Jason already looking at you, not believing what has just happened. You take a deep breath. Might as well put the nail in the coffin now. Cement the road.
“I’m in love with you Jason. All that makes you be you. Including being Red Hood. And I’m not going anywhere. And I really, really hope that you aren’t either.” You whisper.
“I’m a mess.”
You tilt your head with a small smile. “Aren’t we all?”
“Are you sure?” He whispers back, caressing your hair, still giving you an out, a last chance for you to escape him and all his problems, before his instincts take over and he latches himself onto you forever and never lets you go.
You nod, not faltering in your resolve. “Yes.”
“I’m in love with you too. I love you.” He says next and nothing has ever felt so liberating. Jason feels light, floating. And all he wants to do now is say it over and over again, just in case that you might still not be aware of how much he loves you.
“Good. That’s very, very good. I love you too.” You giggle, pressing your forehead to his, your noses brushing each other. Jason grins.
“Can you do that again?” He asks, his gaze dropping to your lips, already knowing that the day that he goes by without tasting them will be torture.
Your smile widens even more, if that’s even possible, and you kiss him once again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
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After that, everything stayed more or less the same. Jason kept coming into the bookshop several times a week, buying books and checking out some others.
Except that now, he also kissed you everytime he did so.
Except that now, you went on very official dates, not ones that could be mistaken by a friendly hangout.
Except that now, you paid a lot more attention to any news about Red Hood.
Except that now, you always patched him up.
Except that now, you spent nights in each other's beds.
And right now, you’re very confused.
Your brows knit as you try to understand what is in front of you. The computer screen showing the details of a book order that you had made for the bookshop a while ago but that hadn’t arrived, not making any sense.
You’re so concentrated that you barely register the jingle of the bell above the entrance door. Out of the corner of your eye you feel a figure come to stand in front of the counter.
“Just a second, please. I’ll be right with you.” You say almost automatically, trying to see if you can just wrap your head around what you’re reading on the screen, though you doubt that a few more seconds will make any difference. But still, you’re adamant to try.
“It’s okay. I’m just looking for my girlfriend.” The figure says and your head lifts up so fast at the voice that you should be worried about getting whiplash. But you don’t care.
Because there he is.
Jason Todd.
Your boyfriend.
You still feel giddy inside every time that you think about it.
You let out a small gasp before your lips twist into a wide smile and you might as well be The Flash with how quickly you round the counter and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
Jason’s smile is just as radiant as yours as he watches you come to him and gets ready for when you crash into him, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and giving you a slight spin when your feet lift off the floor due to the force of your hug.
He closes his eyes and breathes you in while he hugs you and brings you even closer to him, if that’s even possible. Your bodies merged into one in your embrace.
Never in his wildest dreams would Jason have ever thought that he would find himself in this situation. One in which you rush to meet him glowing with happiness. One in which he gets to kiss you without the fear of being rejected and one in which he’s able to call himself yours. He never would have believed any of that when he stepped foot into the bookshop that fateful night, which he was sure would be the last time he would ever get to see you.
He still can’t believe how lucky he is to have you. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you want him. That you accept all of his demons and that you help him fight them. That you love him. He will never take it for granted.
God, he loves you so much.
Your feet touch the floor once again but he doesn’t let go. He lets his senses overwhelm with you, everything about you enveloping him and not letting him feel anything that isn’t you. Your scent, the feel of your hair tickling his cheek, your arms around him. He doesn’t want to ever let you go.
He’s finally home.
Two weeks and a half is too long without you.
You think the very same about him as you do the exact same with him, your senses taking every part of him in, committing him to memory once again, even though you already know them like the back of your hand.
The feel of his soft hair as you run your fingers through it, just like you had dreamed so many times before, the scent and feel of his leather jacket beneath your arms.
God, you love him so much.
You finally pull back and look up at him with stars in your eyes. And then, without sparing another second, he dips down to kiss you. Or you pull up to kiss him, you’re not sure.
The only thing that matters is that his lips are finally back on yours and that’s all you need to know. You kiss him deeply, savoring him after being apart for so long and he kisses you back just as eagerly, loving the feeling of finally having you back in his arms.
And just like everytime that you kissed, like the very first time, it feels like a dream. Because you still can’t believe that he’s yours and that you’re his.
It was a long time coming.
But it turns out that you two are still human and therefore still need to breathe, so you both pull away but only what is strictly necessary to regain your breaths. Your chests and foreheads are still pressed together and lips inches from each other, so close that you can’t tell which breaths are his and which breaths are yours.
Your fast beating hearts falling into the same rhythm, syncing once again, going as one.
One of your hands holds the side of his face, softly caressing his cheek, so smooth that he must have shaved that very same morning. You feel his grip on your waist tighten.
“What are you doing here?” You finally say between giggles, the drug of his proximity, like always, making pure happiness run through your veins.
“Wrapped the case early.” He answers breathlessly before not being able to resist anymore and kissing you again.
You can’t help the smile on your lips while you kiss him and you can feel another one pulling at his own. When you separate once again you smile at each other, your eyes shining with love and affection for one another.
Jason had left earlier that month to help Dick with a case in Blüdhaven for a few days but then the thing had gotten bigger and dragged them all the way to Metropolis, making his trip longer than what he had first anticipated.
And then earlier in the week he had told you that he wouldn’t be able to return until the end of it. But here he was. Holding you in his arms and kissing you on a peaceful Wednesday afternoon.
“Everything went well?” You ask, not daring to tear your eyes away from his, only perhaps to steal a quick look at his lips.
“Yeah. All good.”
Before either of you can say anything else or even try to kiss each other again, Rose, Jimmy and Charlie, all of whom had been chatting over coffee in the break room, emerge at all the fuss.
“What’s all this?” Says Charlie with a smile as you and Jason disentangle, though he keeps you tucked into his side with a respectful arm around your waist.
“Just a young lovers reunion, Charlie.” Answers Rose.
“Sorry for intruding on, kiddos.” Adds Jimmy.
“It’s okay.” You say.
“You must be this Jason that I’ve heard so much about.” Charlie comments.
“Yes, sir. And you must be the famous Charlie. Nice to meet you.” Jason answers while shaking his hand, though not before throwing you a glance that makes your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and hide your face in his shoulder for a second. So you talked about me too huh?
“You too. My grandchildren are going to be devastated that you’re with someone now, darling.” Charlie says jokingly towards you now.
“Sorry, Charlie.” You respond with an apologetic smile.
“It’s good to see you, sweetie.” Says Rose to Jason to which Jimmy nods in agreement.
“It’s great to be back home.” He answers and you feel his hand give your waist a slight squeeze.
Shivers run down your spine.
You look up at Jason lovingly, a gaze that he returns, and you’re so lost in each other that neither of you see the smiles and look of recognition that the elders have in their faces, having themselves experienced a love like yours that still lasted to this day.
“Go, honey. Take the rest of the day.” Rose offers. You turn to her surprised but you can’t help but to also be excited at the possibility of going out with Jason already. Maybe to see Lily and the other kids, since Jason hadn’t seen them since he left, though you had of course shown up to check on them and continue with the readings, or maybe to eat something at Millie and Ruby’s.
But you don’t care as long as Jason’s with you. There were so many possibilities and you two had all the time in the world. And you were going to seize every single second of it. You two had wasted enough time already.
You also already know that Jason’s either spending the rest of the week at your apartment or you’re spending it at his.
“Are you sure?” You ask Rose.
“Yeah, go have fun, kids.” Jimmy confirms. You thank them before smiling brightly at Jason and then going to get your bag and coat.
As you and Jason make your way towards the door, Charlie speaks up once again.
“You’re treating her right, I suppose.”
Jason looks at you as he opens the door of the bookshop before turning back to Charlie.
“Always.” He says without hesitating and Charlie nods, glad with his answer.
The elders watch you go, happy that you two have each other. They watch how Jason moves the hand on the small of your back to take your hands between his and blow into them to warm them up in the cold Gotham air. And how you then zip his jacket all the way up, adjusting the collar so that it would protect him as much as possible, both of you smiling and looking at each other fondly, before you disappear from their view hand in hand.
Because as it turns out, it isn’t really a surprise when the road stays as strong and sturdy as ever after that cracking thunder.
Because that night, the days after and over time, Jason told you everything. About his past, about his family. And over time all that you did was fall even more for him, loving every part, every scar that he decided to show you. And he did the exact same for you.
Because in the end, he still was your Jason, the kind and handsome young man who always checked out children’s books and wore leather jackets.
Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
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thefallennightmare · 1 month
Text
One Night-Valentine's Day special
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*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*
Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader
Warnings: lots of smut(mask play, spit play, bondage, anal, fingering, oral(m/f receiving), choking, unprotected sex), swearing, angst, fluff.
Summary: Nothing like a little Valentines Day smut for these two love birds!
Authors Note: Since this takes place during this universe, every thing that happened between Noah and Reader is still the same! Just a little pop in to see how they've been doing! Happy Valentines Day my lovelies! I hope you enjoy this little blurb!
Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken @malice-ov-mercy @thebadchic @niicoleleigh @lma1986 @dsireland86 @bellaboo967 @cookiesupplier @whenthesummerdies @bngurngheart @laurpartyprogram @thisbicc @lyinginbetween @princessmarshmallowx @loeytuan98 @cncohshit @lacktoesandtoddlerants @notingridslurkaccount @calleyx13 @jessiskyee @mrscevans @spicywhenspeaking @myownthoughts12 @br0kenangel23 @flowery-mess @lizzieseveride @illmakeyousaywow @burning-outx @xhedonistolisx @sinnamongirl @jilliemiw86 @shayzillaaaa @dream-machine-love
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“Hi, who can I make this out to?” I smiled up at the person in front of me. 
The young blonde smiled wide. “Uh, Jennifer.” 
I picked up on her nerves but decided not to dwell on it like I’d done with the other 50 people before her. I opened the book Jennifer lay in front of me and wrote the same message I’d been writing all day.
Jennifer, 
Thank you so much for the support. 
XO
Y/N. 
“Thank you so much for coming out���, I said while sliding the book back to Jennifer. 
Jennifer shook her head while clutching the book close to her chest. “No, thank you, Y/N! I absolutely loved One Night. So when you were promoting Always Pretending, I knew I would have another book to add to my TBR list. Needless to say, it’s my favorite book ever.” 
My cheeks flushed. “Oh wow. Thank you so much for that, Jennifer. Truly, your praise means a lot.” 
With a wave, I continued the same thing for the next long while, signing book after book for my fans. This was the last day in a two-week-long book tour across the United States and to say I was exhausted was an understatement. Not to mention, I had a four-hour flight back home to Los Angeles as soon as I left this bookshop. Jackie, my assistant, knew how badly I wanted to get back home so she booked the earliest flight she could. 
It has been like this for the last year ever since I published One Night and now Always Pretending; both books on the bestseller list. While I was thankful for that, I wasn’t thankful for being away from home for so long. 
Away from Noah.
Our schedules didn’t seem to match up as of late. While I was away on my book signing tour, he was home resting because a week after I got back home, Bad Omens would be leaving for a round of festivals overseas. Noah wanted me to join him since I hadn’t been in a long time. We’d been dating for almost two years now and I had to miss out on the last two tours because of my own career. 
I had every intention of joining Noah now but needed to talk to Jackie about it first. She worked tirelessly to keep my schedule busy and jam-packed to promote my books but in my eyes, they didn't need any more promotion. I’d been working almost nonstop with these book tours, interviews, and not to mention trying to work on my third book. 
I needed a fucking break. 
I didn’t want it to seem to people that I was complaining because I was thankful for where I ended up. If you had told the girl two years ago who sat on that tour bus wondering if her first book would be good enough to become a best-selling author, she’d laugh in your face. 
Noticing that we were dwindling to the last few people, I powered through with a plastered smile even though my eyes were drowning in exhaustion. My phone lay on the table next to me, screen down but kept buzzing against the wood. Jackie went to reach for it but I shot her a look in between signing books. 
“I thought you’d want me to respond for you,” she tried to smile. 
I bit my tongue, not wanting to snap at the older woman because she was simply doing her job but I knew who was texting me and didn’t want her to see those messages. 
“It’s fine, thank you,” I muttered. 
Finally, after a two-hour signing, I was finished and shook out the cramps in my right hand while letting out a deep breath. It was almost 2 in the afternoon and my flight left in 3 hours which meant I had to rush across town to make it in time. 
“So, I was thinking,” Jackie started as I began to gather my things. “The local news channel would love to have you on their morning report tomorrow. I think it would be great publicity.” 
I raised a brow. “You seemed to forget that I have a flight in three hours, Jackie.” 
“I know,” she nodded. “But we can move some things around and-.” 
For the first time since she took over as my assistant, I said the word that I never wanted to because I knew how important the publicity side of my career was. 
“No.” 
Jackie blinked. “What?” 
I sighed while running a hand through my hair. “Look Jackie, while I appreciate everything you’ve done for me these past few months, I need a break. I’ve been going nonstop since One Night was published. I miss my life back in Los Angeles. I miss my quiet little apartment. I miss my boyfriend.” 
Noah’s smile flashed in my mind and my heart yearned to be back with him. About three months ago, he moved in with me but with how busy both of us had been it felt as if we didn’t have time to actually revel in living together. 
Not to mention, being away from him for two weeks made me horny as hell. Facetime sex paled in comparison to seeing and feeling the real thing. 
“But-.” 
I held up my hand to silence Jackie. “You deserve a break as well, Jackie. Take some time off, do things you love. When I’m ready to talk about book three, I’ll give you a call, alright?” 
Reluctantly, she nodded while tucking a piece of graying hair behind her ear. 
Bidding her goodbye, I threw my bag over my shoulder and then dragged my suitcase behind me to exit the bookstore only to immediately sit in the backseat of the black town car that had been waiting to take me to the airport. Once we were gliding along the road, I finally peered at my phone for the first time in a few hours. 
Noah: Angel, I’m so proud of everything you’ve done. Seeing how successful your book tour has been makes me smile. I can’t wait till you’re back home and we can celebrate. I love you so much. 
Noah: So, are you going to sign a copy of Always Pretending for me? Since you know, I was your muse for it. 
I rolled my eyes with a giggle before replying to Noah. 
Me: Oh please, you know I’d sign a book for my biggest fan. Also, I love you too. 
As I browsed through my phone, checking my social media and responding to emails, Noah texted back. 
Noah: So, we have a problem. I can’t pick you up from the airport because I forgot I had my therapy appointment at six.
My heart sunk to the depths of my stomach. All day I’d been looking forward to seeing Noah’s face as I stepped through the doors of the airport. But I knew that he couldn’t miss therapy. It was more important than picking me up. 
Me: It’s okay, love. I can order an uber. I should be back home by 8. Maybe we can have a late dinner together? 
Noah: Already taken care of, angel. 
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With a yawn, I adjusted my glasses as I stepped through the gate doors of the airport, dragging my bags behind me. There was a delay in taking off at the last airport which meant I was now arriving in Los Angeles at 9 p.m rather than 7 p.m. I had to buy wifi on the plane so I could message Noah to let him know about the delay. 
Thank the gods I changed out of my professional attire at the last airport and opted to wear my Bad Omens joggers and Noah’s yellow hoodie; his smell still lingering. With my phone in one hand, I was about to order an Uber when my feet skidded to a halt at the sight in front of me. 
What a cheeky little…
Noah smirked as he held a bouquet of black daisies. 
“Hi, angel,” he mused. 
I reached for the flowers and brought them to my nose, inhaling their scent, and then peered up at Noah. 
“I thought you couldn’t pick me up.” 
Noah brushed away a loose strand of hair from my face. “I sort of lied. I had plans to pick you up then take you out to dinner for Valentine's day but when your flight got delayed, I had to switch things up.” 
“So you’ve been waiting here for two hours?” I asked. 
“Worth it.” 
He shrugged before wrapping his fingers behind my neck to bring our lips together in a long overdue kiss. His tongue immediately molded against mine and I moaned into it, my hand sprawling over his chest. The material of his Hereditary sweater felt warm underneath my palm and I let myself fall into him when his hands grasped my hips. 
“I missed you, Y/N,” Noah’s teeth grazed over my bottom lip. 
“I missed you too, love.” 
With his arm wrapped around my shoulder and other hand holding my bags, Noah led me out of the airport and towards his car parked in the parking lot. Once we were settled, he began the drive back home. I nestled into the passenger seat and let out a content sigh. 
“Tired?” Noah questioned with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my thigh. 
“No, surprisingly. I thought I would be but I’m just happy to be back home.” 
He brought my hand to his lips to kiss along my knuckles. “I’m glad you’re back too, angel.” 
For the rest of the drive home, I told him how the book tour went while he told me what he did the last few weeks. Since it was down time for Bad Omens, Noah spent it either in the gym with Ash or in the studio with the guys. 
As we walked down the long hallway to our apartment, another yawn slipped through my lips and I nearly stumbled. Noah chuckled as he wrapped an arm around me to pull me into his chest. 
“You should get some sleep, angel.” 
I frowned while burying myself into his sweater. "I'm not tired."
His lips brushed along my forehead as we stopped in front of our door and he unlocked it. The darkness of our home escaped into the hallway as I stepped through the threshold and when I clicked on the lights, a gasp fell from my lips. 
Matching the daisies bouquet I had clutched in my arms, our entire apartment was littered. Music played softly as I noticed the steaming dinner plated on our kitchen island, candles lit and spread throughout. 
Turning on my heels, I gaped at Noah who leaned against the door with a smug smile. 
“What is this?” I asked, doing my best not to cry. 
“Happy Valentine's Day, angel. I had Jolly set this up for me while we were on our way home. He had to warm up the dinner I cooked earlier but I promise it’s still good,” he said. 
My eyes widened. “Oh, I forgot it’s Valentine's day! I was so busy with everything I didn’t get you anything.” 
Noah pushed himself off the door and immediately cupped my face so I could look up at him. The hood of his sweater was still pulled over his eyes, chocolate tendrils falling into his face. 
“You know I don’t need anything. Just you, angel. But I wanted to do something special for you because you deserve it.” 
I left a firm but quick kiss on his lips, muttering against them. “Thank you, Noah.” 
He smiled while motioning behind me. “Come on, let's eat.” 
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“Fuck, Noah,” I moaned when his tongue licked up the patch of skin his teeth grazed. 
My nails dragged down his bare chest, leaving red marks along his tattoos, as he continued to slam his cock into me, the couch beneath us scraping along the wood floors. 
“So tight. I missed you,” he groaned into the crook of my neck as his hips stilled. 
I knew he was close but also knew that he didn’t want it to end yet. What started as a nice romantic dinner turned into a heavy make out session on the couch. Neither of us could wait any longer and needed to be connected once again. 
His fingers brushed along the folds of my pussy and I shook with the feeling as he slowly dragged his cock all the way out, only leaving the tip inside. 
“Noah,” I whined while raising my hips. “Please.” 
His teeth dragged along my nipples. “Please what?” 
I raked my nails through his hair and yanked back causing Noah to let out a loud hiss. “Fuck, angel.” 
“Stop teasing me and fuck me, Noah. Please.” 
My screams echoed throughout the apartment when he buried his cock deep witin me again, his pace becoming ruthless. But our position on the couch wasn’t the greatest, I needed to be able to feel him even deeper. We couldn’t make it to the bedroom when we first started and there was no way I was going to stop this now. 
Noah could tell I needed something different because with one strong arm, he lifted me from the couch to carry me over to the kitchen table. I squealed in delight as I writhed in his embrace. 
“What are you doing?” I asked as he made me lean back. 
He brushed back the sweat slicked hair from his forehead and licked his lips. “I need a taste of you.” 
With a tight grip on my thighs, he spread my legs wide apart before he knelt between them. The warmth of his tongue sent shockwaves to my entire system as he lapped up the remnants of my previous orgasm he gave me on the couch and I arched off the table when he began sucking on my clit. 
“Shit, Noah. I’m going to-.” 
With two fingers spearing me wide open before pumping in fast succession and his mouth sucking on my sensitive nub, I let the shock of my orgasm tear through me with such a force that it nearly took my breath away. 
“Such a good girl,” Noah mused while laying a kiss on the inside of my thigh. “I missed the way you taste.” 
I only had a few minutes to breath before he was yanking me off the table to now stand on my feet. He patted my ass. 
“Lean your hands against the window,” he nodded towards the patio door. 
“What-?” I shuffled on my feet. 
Noah’s lips attacked mine in a ravenous kiss and when he pulled away, he brushed my arousal off of his lips with his thumb. His bracelet and necklace glinted in the light from the lamppost outside. 
“Be a good girl, Y/N, and do what I say,” his voice was as dark as his eyes. 
Not wanting to disappoint, I quickly made my way over to the patio door that led out to our balcony and rested my psalm against the glass.Thankfully we shut off all but one of the lights so no one would be able to peer up into our apartment and see what we were doing.
"Keep your hands on the window," he demanded and then yanked my hips back to him so I was bent over. 
Nodding furiously, I spread my hands against the window of the patio door when his cocked slipped inside of me again, his name falling off my lips in a prayer. 
“That’s right, pray to your king,” Noah rasped as he bit down on my shoulder. 
One tattooed arm wrapped around my stomach while the other tightened around my throat to bring my chest against his back, this new angle making my vision blurry. It felt so good, the burn, and Noah knew how bad I needed it to hurt. 
 He squeezed until I felt the air being ripped away from me, his cock slamming into me with no sign of stopping. He never held back and I never wanted him too.  I needed it to hurt, needed it to burn, that I wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow.
When I felt the darkness creeping to the corners of my eyelids due to how tight he was gripping my throat, I let out a choked moan. 
“Safe word?” he muttered into my ear before kissing the skin behind there. 
Although his voice was soft and concerning, the way he fucked me was completley different. 
I did my best to shake my head with his tight grip around my throat. “Keep. Going. So. Close.” 
Noah eased his grip a bit so I could take a deep breath before he tightened it again. My orgasm was so close, I just needed a little something to have it wash over me. As my hand moved to my clit, Noah smacked my ass, the sound echoing through our apartment. Instead, his thumb pressed circles against my clit and that was exactly what I needed to let my orgasm finally release from the tightness of my body. I came with such vigor on Noah’s cock he groaned into my hairline. 
“Such a good girl,” he praised while letting go of the vice grip around my throat. 
Gulping for hair, I nodded. “Yes.” 
Nails dug into the skin of my hips as Noah’s pace became even more frantic, him chasing his own release, and I was so far gone in my post orgasmic haze that I nearly didn’t hear the two words he said. 
“Wh-what?” I stuttered. 
Noah’s hips stilled for a beat before he let out a deep, guttural groan when he spilled his warm release into me. 
“Marry me.” 
Before my body could fall into a heap to the ground, Noah lifted me to sit me on the edge of our kitchen island. His large hand cupped my cheek so I had no choice but to gaze upon him. His pupils were blown wide due to our actions and his chest rose and fell as he did his best to catch his breath. His warm cum dripped down my legs onto the cold marble beneath me but I didn’t dare think about the mess. I only thought about those two words. 
“What did you say?” I asked, still breathless. 
“Marry me,” Noah said again without an ounce of hesitation. 
Everything around us seemed to fall away, the eerie quiet of the apartment now ringing loudly in my ears. My heart beat loudly in my chest that I could feel it in my throat when I realized how sincere Noah was. This wasn’t a joke, he meant those words. 
As if he thought I was doubting him, he ripped open our junk drawer in the kitchen to pull out a small velvet box and my breath caught in my throat. 
“Fuck, you’re serious?” I choked out. 
Noah smiled wickedly as he opened the box, the light above the kitchen sink catching the diamond almost instantly. The gold band was thin but the oval shape of the diamond almost sat perfectly against it. 
“With you, Y/N. I’ve never been more serious about anything,” he said. 
My throat burned in the best way. Never in this lifetime did I ever expect to have such a romantic Valentine's Day. Guys in my past never gave a shit, especially Jacob, so to have Noah go all out was something I wasn't used too but knowing he loved me so much made my heart swell. 
I began to nod wildly. “Fuck yes!” 
With a laugh, Noah collided our lips together in a fever kiss before reluctantly pulling away to slide the ring onto my finger. 
“I didn’t mean to have a cliche proposal on Valentine's day. I planned on asking you if you came overseas but I couldn’t risk not asking you before,” Noah explained. 
I wrapped my legs around his naked form to bring him closer to me and I hung my arms around his neck. We were still naked and the cool air from the open window brushed along our heated skin. 
“I’m coming with you.” 
Noah’s eyes lit up. “You are?” 
“Yeah, I need a break and now that we’re engaged, I think we need to celebrate,” I waved the hand with the ring in front of his face playfully. 
He grasped it to leave a kiss upon the ring. “Say no more, angel.” 
My squeals bounced off the walls of our home as Noah carried me into our bedroom to start our engagement celebrations.
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1andrys · 3 months
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invisible string | ethan landry
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“all along there was an invisible string tying you to me.”
non gf! ethan x reader
𓏲࣪⋆| warnings: none :)
𓏲࣪⋆| summary: Ethan was a bookshop employee in hopes to gain some cash as a broke college student, it wasn’t the best job but here he was. The only thing keeping him a little motivated was the cute bookshop regular roaming around the store every thursday and friday. As a hopeless romantic, he thought it was fate. (ib: invisible string by taylor swift)
𓏲࣪⋆| a/n: this is my first one on this acc, i hope ygs enjoy. if you are interest in more please add yourself to the taglist
“THAT will be 15.48,” Ethan’s voice spoke as he clicked on the old cash register that should be repaired soon for any other inconveniences in the small bookshop called “Bookmarked.” Ethan always thought the name was corny but here he was, wearing the ugly brown apron over his green knitted sweater and jeans with the name tag in his crappy handwriting. It was just as corny as the name. As a college student, it wasn’t easy to just be stable and independent, so Ethan was working at the bookshop for some cash. At least he ended up getting some employee discount for books.
“I thought there was a 50% discount,” The customer chirped and eyed Ethan while they looked at the stack of books in the check out.
Ethan sighed, this was the third time this afternoon that somebody tried correcting him, “There is, but only if it’s the books with a green sticker.” He explained as he pointed to the poster with the symbols and words saying, GET 50% OFF ON SELECTED BOOKS (LOOK FOR THE GREEN STICKER.)
It ultimately led to an annoyed customer paying full price for the books, unsatisfied. Ethan let out a groan before he went back to the shelves and fix the new arrivals stack. The fresh smell of books infiltrated his senses while he scooted into the thick wooden shelves. He liked color coordinating the books to his satisfaction. One by one, he placed the new books into the shelf. Finally. He looked behind him at the cart full of books he needed to reorganize because people loved to misplace books. Instead, his eyes widened to see one of the bookstore regulars looking through the cart of books, the same pretty face he liked to see walk in every Thursday and Friday. Your face.
He couldn’t help but stand in place and admire the way your eyes moved to read the back of books as a preview. Eventually, those same eyes locked onto his, you gave him a gentle smile. “Hey, I was wondering where the new arrivals were.”
An awkward silence filled the air, Ethan was zoning out and then snapped out of it, his pale cheeks forming a shade of pink, “Oh right! Yeah yeah, they’re right here.” He stepped to the side and showed the display of the shelf. He had this stupid grin that he couldn’t wipe, he took note of the nice sweater you had on. “I like your sweater.”
You seemed pretty busy and just gave him a nod, “Thanks.” You noticed the same grin the bookstore employee had, your instincts couldn’t help but blush at his words. It wasn’t anything that happened everyday. This was your favorite book store for a reason.
In the fall, you began studying at Blackmore University and discovered the variety of shops near the campus. You came across the dimly lit, cozy book shop in August and have been shopping at “Bookmarked” ever since. Time would go by and you’d notice the cute bookstore employee, the same one with the curly brown hair and big brown eyes. He almost stuck out like a sore thumb in the shop due to his height, he always looked quiet so you always refrained from speaking to him. But it was like there was something always leading you to talk to him.
You walked past him to check out the new arrivals, and you felt the employee’s eyes on you, you spun around and held up a book, “Do you have any recommendations?”
“Not really,” Ethan mumbled in embarrassment. He tried to come up with something niche to pique your interest, but failed to do so.
You gave him a subtle smile, “Well you’re one hell of an employee.” You immediately regretted it, damn, you couldn’t flirt for shit. You almost prayed he wouldn’t take offense.
“Oh,” Ethan cleared his throat out of embarrassment, “Well, I guess I could suggest you this,” He picked up a book right above your head that sent you into a flustered state. It was “Betting On You,” a romance book.
“Cheesy,” Was all you could say. You ended up taking the book, Ethan followed you back to the register to ring up your book without saying a word.
“That will be, 6.53,” Ethan said when he looked over at you and your wallet. Sometimes he despised how awkward he was when it came to girls, he wish it came easy like his best friend Chad, a smooth talker.
Your eyes met Ethan’s and your eyebrows furrowed, “Wait a minute, why is it cheaper? Isn’t the book around 14 bucks?”
“Erm, we’re having a sale.”
“And I thought it was only for selected books,” You pointed behind him at the poster with the same words, GET 50% OFF ON SELECTED BOOKS (LOOK FOR THE GREEN STICKER.) “There’s no green sticker.”
“Right..” Ethan was a little flushed, he was just trying to make a kind gesture, but you guessed it was a form of flirting, “Well, I noticed you were a regular employee so, it wouldn’t hurt giving a discount.”
“Right..” You trailed off, almost mocking his words. “I appreciate it.”
—————————————————————————
WEEKS went by since that last interaction and Ethan was in the clouds, he couldn’t help but remember the way you spoke to him and joked with him. Was it flirting? Ethan wouldn’t know. Thursdays and Fridays were the same, your presence was always a welcome to him and he was always so relieved to see you. It would be some light conversations and recommendations, maybe you did like him. Maybe it was fate. He was always one for some corny romance and maybe this was his chance.
If only things were good for him.
It was a normal Thursday night, he was almost counting down for you to come by for your regular visit, only to find out you came way later than usual. 7 pm. Not only that, but you had a guy following you around the bookshop as you spoke to him. Ethan couldn’t help but assume the worst, a boyfriend. Jealously bubbled in Ethan as he stood by the register and watched you with the guy who was tall, blonde, and very good looking.
You roamed around the bookstore with your date, who you just met a week ago and agreed to a small date. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the best, snarky comments here and there about your literature choices.
“I mean who in the world would read this shit?” Your date spoke to you as you roamed around the romance section, “Have you not read actual good literature? Like American Psycho or something?”
A frown formed on your face once your date said that. Of course, he would judge your sense of taste. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you just wanted this to be over. After a while, your date and you went up to the register, you couldn’t help but give Ethan a small wave as he rang up the books from your date. Ethan just smiled back, covering his heartbreak. Of course you dated a good looking guy, who apparently didn’t have a great taste in books.
“That will be 17.80” Ethan muttered as your date paid him the money. Ethan noticed the disinterest in your face as you watched your date grab his books and walk out with you. You looked back to see Ethan with a weak smile, you felt bad.
A small feeling lingered in your heart, this date was a bad idea and now the cute employee felt like he lost his chance. As you and your date exited the bookstore into the cold air, you stopped your date. “You know what? I think let’s just call it a night, I have a few things to care of,” you explained before your date handed you a book and you just parted ways.
You rushed inside the bookstore, that same cute employee was no longer at the register. You skimmed through the bookstore for him until you saw him fixing bookshelves.
“Hey,” You said with a nervous smile as you approached him.
Ethan’s eyes shifted to meet yours and a confused expression was plastered on his face, “Hello. Quite a date huh?”
“Not really, is there any way I can exchange this book for some store credit?” You asked him with a small smile as you held up the book in your hands.
His brown eyes concentrated on the book, bringing a small laugh to his mouth, “Seriously? Diary of An Oxygen Thief?”
“I know! That’s the biggest red flag,” You shook your head as Ethan waved his hand around for you to follow him. Obediently, you followed him back to the register.
“Here, just give me the book and pick something else out,” Ethan said as you handed him the book which he put to the side. For some reason, this conversation was easier for him to talk in. Maybe there was a chance. Luckily, you went ahead and grabbed a book you really wanted. The Secret History. You came back to see Ethan waiting for you. “Good choice. You know, sometimes we should like talk about books.”
You noticed how nervous he looked like, his fingernails tapping on the wooden table and his eyes drifting away from yours.
“Over coffee?” You added on, giving him a small grin. You knew what he was doing and he was doing it in the most nervous way possible. Sure, your date might have been a pretty bad decision, but it led to something better.
All Ethan could do was nod with a wide smile, his heart was jumping in excitement. Finally, in his mind, all he could think about was fate, an invisible string that was probably tying to the two of you. Maybe it was destiny in his head. And he couldn’t help but wait for that date he was going to have with you.
196 notes · View notes
cyripticchronicler · 6 days
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oki oki so basically a muggle bookstore au where shy!remus is a worker there, f!writer!reader just moving into town, and after a while, shes a regular and remus starts to yk, get a little crushy crush. And it’s mutual 2 so thats gud. He finally asks her on a date or sum when its been 6 months since they like talked with like flowers and chocolate and everything (AWWWWW). THEN THEN THEN, they hang out at his house and the other marauders walk in and be like, “you finally asked her out? BOUT FCKING TIME!” And then they all laugh and hang out then BOOM smut! (If you’re comfortable of course!)
sorry if its a weeee bit long, its 1AM when i saw the cry for requests so 🤷‍♀️
BYEEE! (My signature emoji is 🚐)
Whispers of the Page - Remus Lupin
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Pairing: Shy!Remus Lupin x F!writer!Reader
Summary: Having recently moved, you were in dire need of more books. But the last thing you expected was to catch the owner of the bookshop's attention.
Word count: 4k+ (I went overboard)
Warnings: Smut (My first smut ever posted plz be nice) Kissing, shy Remus?? Is that a warning?
A/N: Thank you so much for requesting!! You're my first request EVER so thank you I appreciate it so much! I hope I did your request justice, I tried my hardest :)
Masterlist
⚝⭑☪⭑
Humming quietly, your heels click along the cobbled path. You hold your coat up above your head in a desperate attempt to keep your hair dry. Goosebumps spread over your skin, and you sigh in relief when you find the store you’ve been wanting to visit for weeks now.
Rushing into the warmly lit shop, the bell jingles when you enter. The smell of old books and candles immediately engulfs you, warming your body from head to toe and you shift so your coat is slung over your arm.
Your heeled boots are quiet against the patterned carpet, and you take a few moments to take everything in. The bookshop is covered with books, ones that look brand new and others that have been well loved, their spines cracked and pages doggy-eared. Lamps light the room, placed in every nook and corner of the cramped space. 
Looking to the right, you jump slightly when you realise you’re not alone. Standing behind a covered counter stands a young man, book in hand as he reads quietly, fingers turning the page every few minutes. He’s dressed well, an old grandpa sweater tucked into a pair of brown dress pants. His brown, shabby hair shields his face, but you peek at the sight of his sharp jawline. 
Wanting a proper look at him, you mutter a “Hello,” heart speeding up when he looks at you, his gentle eyes meeting yours. You didn’t expect him to be so pretty. He’s gorgeous. You knew he’d be if his jawline was any indication. His face is covered with scars, but that doesn't diminish his beauty, it adds to it. His cheeks flush when he notices you staring at him and he looks down to bookmark his book before looking up. 
“Hi, welcome. Is there anything I can help you with?” His voice is warm and smooth like honey, a red flush warming his cheeks as he avoids eye contact. 
You smile at his shyness, moving to a shelf at grabbing ones you find interesting. “No, thank you. I’ve just moved and I wasn’t able to bring any books with me.” You hold up your hands that are already stacked with books. “I need to stock up.”
You hear him place his book down from where you're inspecting this fantasy book, listening to his quiet steps as he walks towards you. He leans against the shelf beside you, awkwardly placing his hand on his hip before dropping it, falling to his side as he stands straight, cheeks still tinted red. 
“Do you need any book recommendations?” He questions, his eyes finally coming in contact with yours. You feel a cool shiver run down your spine but you ignore it. “Yeah,” You shoot him a shy smile, “I’d love some.” It was a slight lie. Sure, you’d love more book recommendations but you definitely didn't need any to add to your long list of books to read. 
He starts listing off more books, seemingly more comfortable while he wanders around the store, picking up books as he goes. “So,” He starts, “You said you’ve just recently moved?” He inspects an older-looking book before adding it to the pile. 
“Yeah, I decided it was time to leave my home town and focus more on writing.”
“Writing, eh? What do you write?”
Your cheeks heat, though you will them not to, readying for the teasing to come. “I write romance books.” His eyes perk up, shooting me a small smile as he adds another book to the pile. “I love romance books. Written any that I’d know?”
I laugh, following him to the counter. “No, I haven’t published a book. Yet.”
He starts scanning the books, placing them in a brown paper bag as he does. “Well, you must tell me when you do. I want to read it.” His cheeks flush as he speaks the words, hands slightly shaking while he rings you up. 
You notice the cost being cheaper than you expected and shoot him a curious look which he just whispers a quiet “Half price.” You will your cheeks not to heat, paying for the books with a barely concealed smile. You go to leave, bag in hand but stop at the exit. 
“What’s your name?” 
He looks up from where he’s staring blankly at his book. “Remus. You?”
You mutter your name, trying your best to not skip down the pathway, already planning your next visit to the store. 
Your next visit was only a week later, and your mind coming up with multiple excuses to go back all week until you finally came up with a viable one. 
It’s your nephew's birthday soon and he loves reading as much as you do so you’ve decided to stop by the store to pick up a present for him. Bell ringing as you enter, you notice Remus isn’t standing behind the counter like before and frown. 
Warm glow guiding your path, you make your way to the young adult section, hands tracing the spines of books as you search for a specific one. Your head turns at the sound of shuffling coming towards you. Heating when you spot Remus making his way to you, a pile of books in hand while he searches for an empty spot on the shelves. 
He looks up and jumps when he spots you, eyes wide and cheeks flushing almost instantly. Biting your lip to withhold your laughter, you attempt to control your smile. “Sorry, did I spook you?”
He snaps out of his trance, shooting a bright smile your way. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He laughs breathlessly, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck before he remembers the books in his hands and hurries to catch them before they fall to the floor. 
“You wouldn’t happen to have They Both Die At The End in that pile, do you?” You grin, gesturing to the books in his hands. 
“Not on me, but I think I have a couple of copies in the back. Let me just put these books away and I’ll grab one.” You nod and follow behind him while he puts the last few books away, waiting outside the ‘staff only’ door while he goes around back and grabs the book
Your next visit was only a week later, and your mind coming up with multiple excuses to go back all week until you finally came up with a viable one. 
It’s your nephew's birthday soon and he loves reading as much as you do so you’ve decided to stop by the store to pick up a present for him. Bell ringing as you enter, you notice Remus isn’t standing behind the counter like before and frown. 
Warm glow guiding your path, you make your way to the young adult section, hands tracing the spines of books as you search for a specific one. Your head turns at the sound of shuffling coming towards you. Heating when you spot Remus making his way to you, a pile of books in hand while he searches for an empty spot on the shelves. 
He looks up and jumps when he spots you, eyes wide and cheeks flushing almost instantly. Biting your lip to withhold your laughter, you attempt to control your smile. “Sorry, did I spook you?”
He snaps out of his trance, shooting a bright smile your way. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He laughs breathlessly, hand reaching up to scratch the back of his neck before he remembers the books in his hands and hurries to catch them before they fall to the floor. 
“You wouldn’t happen to have They Both Die At The End in that pile, do you?” You grin, gesturing to the books in his hands. 
“Not on me, but I think I have a couple of copies in the back. Let me just put these books away and I’ll grab one.” You nod and follow behind him while he puts the last few books away, waiting outside the ‘staff only’ door while he goes around back and grabs the book you want. 
“Thank you,” You grin when he hands you the book, walking to the counter while he follows. You spot a worn book on the counter and recognise it immediately.  “You’re reading Pride and Prejudice?”
“Re-reading,” He corrects. “It’s one of my favourite books.” He smiles, stuffing his hands in his pants pocket while he stares. 
“It’s one of my favourite books too!” You exclaim, rather too enthusiastically. “It’s tied with Emma.”
He breaks the short eye contact and scans your book. “I haven’t read that yet, but I’ll add it to my list.”
You grow shy, hands fiddling with your sweater nervously. “Yeah, you could tell me what you thought about it, too.” His eyes widen adorably at your words, cheeks red as a tomato while he nods furiously. 
“Y-yeah.” He hands you the book and you smile, making your way to the exit. “I’ll see you next time, Remus.”
‘Next time’ turned into visiting his shop fortnightly, your bank account getting lighter each time you visited the shop. Over time, through scarce conversation, you’ve learnt that Remus owns the bookshop and is the only one who works there, and that, out of his two best friends Sirius and James, he’s the only one who enjoys reading. 
He’s learnt that you’re working part-time at this bakery while you work on getting your first book published and that you’ve been writing for years, but only decided to turn it into a profession recently. 
It’s clear that Remus likes books, and he’s visibly more comfortable when talking about them. Instead of his quiet voice, he gets louder and waves his hands around in enthusiasm. You find it adorable and have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from asking him out every time. 
You’re not even sure he likes you. I mean, sure, he’s all blushy and shy around you but he could act like that around everyone. 
Months of talking and wandering around the bookstore have gone by, and every day you find it harder to control your infatuation with him. 
And, though you admire the beautiful bookshop, you’re dying to actually go out with him. 
And that’s what brings you here today, on a cloudy day, rain threatening to fall at any moment. You don’t have any books to buy, or any recommendations you want, you’re only here for one thing and one thing only; to ask Remus out. 
The familiar ring of the bell greets you as you enter, your eyes instinctively searching for Remus, spotting him in the corner of the store, his sharp features highlighted by the dimly lit lamps. 
He looks up from where he’s dusting a shelf, eyes lighting up as he meets yours. “Hey!” Walking over towards you, he reaches his arm out before awkwardly letting it hang by his side. Casting a look at the ‘Staff Only’ door a few feet away, his hands start fidgeting with his red patterned grandpa sweater. “I uh- I have something for you.” He mutters, suddenly shy as he avoids your eyes. 
Your eyes light up, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Really? You didn’t have to get me anything.” His cheeks flush even redder if possible, and you bite your tongue to hold back a loud ‘awww.’
“It’s in the back. Let me just-” He gestures to the back door before hurriedly walking through it. Your eyebrows raise when you hear loud thumping and quiet swearing.
“Remus? Are you okay?” The sounds of crashing stop immediately and he clears his throat before responding. His voice still cracks when he shouts, “I’m coming!”
That’s what she said.
A second later he comes back out, a hand behind his back as he attempts to hide whatever crinkles behind him. You take a deep breath and feign confidence. “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you too.”
He nods in acknowledgement, using his free hand to scratch awkwardly at his nose. “I-I would prefer if I talked first.”
You nod your head, offering him a reassuring smile. He smiles in return before showing me what was behind his back. You can’t stop the small gasp from passing your lips, eyes wide as you take the ‘bouquet’ of books from his stretched-out hand. 
“T-” You clear your throat, “This is for me?” Cheeks hot, he nods and rubs the back of his neck. “I-I also bought you chocolates. I wasn’t sure when I was going to see you next so they’re still at home.” He takes a deep breath and meets your eyes. “Go out with me. Please.”
Your eyes widen an unconstrained snort escaping your nose. Cheeks flushing in embarrassment, you slap your hand against your mouth, and you watch as his head hangs in defeat.
You hurry to fix your mistake. “Wait! No, no, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to laugh. I laugh in a lot of situations, whether good or bad- I once laughed at a wed- That doesn’t matter. What I’m trying to say is that I’d love to go out with you.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to-”
One hand still holding the bouquet, you reach your other hand out to rest on his shoulder, successfully gaining his attention as he looks up to meet your eyes.
“I do, I promise. I just found it funny because I came here today to ask you out but you- you beat me to it. I-It was just funny.” You shrug, awkwardly smiling at him. 
“So…You do want to go out with me?” You nod and his eyes light up, flashing you a blinding smile. “How about my place? Sunday? I don’t think my roommates will be home.” His eyes widen. “-Not that I’m trying to get ‘lucky’ or anything.” 
You nod your head enthusiastically, “Yeah! I’d love that.” Pulling out your phone, he takes it from your hand. “Just text me the address.”
Long, nimble fingers type in your phone and you attempt to distract yourself from his veiny hands. Your heart beats in excitement, mind already racing through what outfit to wear, and how you’ll style your hair.
How you’re going to get any sleep at all over the next couple of days is beyond you.
Knuckles against wood announce your arrival as you stand awkwardly in front of the door, comfy leggings and sweater barely protecting you against the cold, frigid air. Thankfully, you don’t have to wait long, Remus’ smiling face comes into view as he opens the door. 
“Hey, come in. It’s freezing out there,” He opens the door wider and you don’t hesitate in walking into the threshold, excited to get away from the horrible weather. He shuts the door behind you, the cold wind blocked off as your body finally starts to warm up.
“Wait here,” Remus says eagerly and you nod, taking the time alone to take your shoes off and calm down your racing heart. His house seems nice, a mixture of Remus and his two roommates Sirius and James personalities peaking through the decorations. 
You’re inspecting a miniature aeroplane that lays on a table beside the front door when Remus comes back, a pink heart-shaped box in his hand. He spots you looking at the plane and smiles, “James picked that out. He’s training to be a pilot right now. He loves flying.”
You nod in acknowledgement, shooting him a smile as an awkward silence fills the room. He scratches his head awkwardly before seemingly remembering the box. “Oh! T-this is for you.” He all but shoves it into your hands and you take it gratefully, carefully pulling away the heart-shaped lid to look at all the chocolates inside. 
You internally aw, “Thank you! I actually got you something as well.”
He perks up, eyes widening in excitement. “Yeah?” You nod, placing the chocolates down on the table and reaching into your bag to pull it out. 
His eyes are blown wide, lips slightly parted as he takes the string-bound pieces of paper from you. “No…Is this what I think it is?” He questions in shock. 
“If you’re thinking that this is my first official copy of my book then yes.” He’s shell-shocked, flipping through the pages and admiring the cover. “This-this is amazing, I can’t wait to read it.”
It’s like he can’t control himself as he walks closer to you, wrapping you into his arms, the scent of tea and parchment invading your nose as you stuff your face in his neck. You wrap your arms around his waist, too focused on the way he’s holding you to acknowledge the small ‘thank you’ he whispers your way. 
Pulling back a bit, you move your head out of his neck to look at him and he looks down at you with hooded eyes, almost like he’s in a daze. You reach up, one hand wrapping around the back of his neck, standing on your tippy toes as you lean forward. 
He does the same, licking his plump lips. His hot breath fans your face and your eyes flutter shut in anticipation. Pulling him closer, your lips are centimetres apart-
“Well, well, what do we have here?” You jump out of his grasp in seconds, turning towards the intruder while Remus swears. 
“I thought you guys would be back later.” Remus interrogates. You assume the ‘intruders’ are Sirus and James, easily being able to tell who's who from the amount of stories Remus has told you about them. 
Sirius is too busy sending Remus a teasing look to respond so James steps up, “We forgot something, don’t worry, Moony. We’ll be out of your hair in no time.” James leaves to retrieve whatever they forgot while Sirius stands, still smirking at Remus. 
He ignores Remus’ glare, turning to face you, “Hello! Sorry I haven't introduced myself, I’m Sirius. And you are?” He apologises though he doesn't sound sorry in the slightest. 
You tell him your name, watching as he shoots a teasing smile towards Remus. 
“I know you! Remus can’t shut up about you. Honestly, it’s either; ‘She looked so pretty today I almost died’ or, ‘Today's the day, I’m going to ask her out.’ Honestly, I probably know everything about you considering how much Remus talks about you.”
Remus groans quietly from beside you and you place your hand on his arm in reassurance - something Sirius doesn’t hesitate to wiggle his eyebrows at. “I’ve heard a lot about you too, it’s nice to finally put a face to a name.”
“-Yes it is.” James returns from his scavenger hunt, wallet in hand. “Hopefully now that Remus has finally asked you out he’ll stop talking about you so often. It’s always, ‘Her hair is so shiny,’ and, ‘Her eyes are brighter than the sun, they’re the light that guides my path, the sunshine to my moon-”
“Don’t you two have somewhere to be?” Remus’ dark, annoyed voice interrupts, cheeks flaming as he shoots a lethal glare their way.
James’s hands raised in surrender. “Okay then, I guess we should go before Moony over here kills us,” they walk towards the front door, cold air slicing through the warm room, “Remember to wear protection!” He screams before slamming the door shut. 
Turning to face Remus, an amused look on your face, he shoves his face into his hands but winces when he realises he’s still holding your book. His muttered threats filtered through the air and you bite your lip to conceal your laughter. He shakes his head, shooting me an apologetic look. “I am so sorry-”
“Why?” You laugh, “They seem great.” 
He visibly relaxes, “Really?” You nod, “Yeah. Now, what do you want to do? I have heaps of movie recommendations if you want to watch something.”
‘Ugh, as if!” Cher’s voice filters through the dim room, bundled in blankets, your head resting on Remus’ shoulder as you watch the movie. 
Eyes straying from the screen, you turn your head slightly to look up at Remus. He feels your gaze immediately, “Yes?” He asks, shifting his body so he can see you properly. 
You smile, “You’re just so pretty.” His cheeks flush red in record time, hand pulling you closer so your head rests against his chest. 
Long, nimble fingers play with your hair while the other rests along your back. You’re practically on top of him now, your legs between his own, face propped up against your hands that lean against his chest. 
“You’re pretty too,” He mutters, warm eyes tracing every inch of your face, filled with admiration like you were carved by Zeus himself. “Yeah? Are my eyes brighter than the sun? Do I guide your path-”
You barely noticed his small smile before his lips were on yours. Remus’ lips pressed against yours, emitting a muffled moan from your throat. His mouth takes yours in a mix of tongue and teeth, the hand that was resting against your back moving further down, resting on top of your ass. 
You prop yourself up with one hand beside his shoulder the other caressing his cheek. The hand that was playing with your hair now resting on your neck, gripped hard as he pulled you in closer, tongue mixing with yours like you were his lifeline. 
His lips move down your throat, the feeling in your gut enhancing as his hands move over your body, hair tickling your neck.
“Please,” You gasp when you finally move away, lips swollen and covered in spit. “Please what?” He questions teasingly, thumb reaching out to stroke your red cheeks. 
“I need you,” You whisper. Your stomach somersaulted at the hard feeling of something poking your stomach. Spurred on by his reaction, you kiss him again. He doesn’t waste a second in kissing you back, calloused fingers tracing your body, the pull of his lips eagerly smiling against your own. 
His mouth moved downwards, planting little kisses down your neck. Slowly, he shifts so that he’s on top of you, a mess of tangled limbs as you reach for his lips again. One of his hands slides over your hips and up your shirt. 
You gasp at the feeling of his warm hands against your cold body, goosebumps trailing after his touch. The other went to your ass, palming gently through your thin leggings. Gently, your hands trailed under his shirt, his hips pressing harder against yours. 
“Off,” You mumble through kisses, yanking on his shirt. He pulls away, taking his shirt off in one fluid motion before slamming his lips against your throat, wet mouth biting and sucking at your neck. 
You leaned into his touch, quiet moans slipping past your parted lips as you lost yourself in pleasure. Remus’ hips shifted against you, the friction sending a jolt up your spine. Hips moving on their own, you wrap your legs around his jean-clad waist, moving your hips against him, another jolt of pleasure shooting through you. 
He groans against your neck, hips meeting yours in sharp thrusts. Hands reaching behind you, he unhooks your bra and slowly drags it down your arms along with your shirt, tossing it to the side. 
“You’re so beautiful,” He mutters against your soft skin, his right hand cupping your breast, his other hand sliding lower, rubbing circles against your hip. Gently, his right hand needed the flesh firmly, occasionally squeezing. Your nails dig into his bare back, scratching down the rough skin.  
He started rolling your hard nipple between his fingers, your cunt clenching around nothing. Desperate for something, you rut harder against his covered lap, whining in disappointment while he chuckles. 
“You want more, huh?” He asks and you nod desperately. Slowly, his hand lets go of your breast, replaced by his mouth, tongue swirling around your nipple. Warm hands trail down your stomach, playing with the waistband of your leggings before pulling them down completely, panties following soon afterwards. 
“Are you sure you want this?” He asks and you nod. “Words, sweetheart.” Pulling away, his head eyes track the way your cunt clenches around nothing, wetness running down your thighs as he laughs deviously. 
“I want you so bad. Please-” You gasp when his lips land on your left thigh, biting softly as his hands need the flesh roughly. You swallow hard, focusing on the way his mouth gets closer and closer, warm lips kissing up your thigh and towards where you really want him.
The feel of his warm, pointed tongue running up the length of your cunt has your back arching against the sheets, hands reaching out to grip his hair, pulling on the strands desperately as his tongue circles your clit. 
His tongue barely dips inside you before running through your slickened folds, the vibrations of his moans further spurring you on. Soft licks against your slit have your hips bucking up into his face, your head falling back against the pillows as you lose yourself in the pleasure. 
Your mind goes blank at the feeling of a long, veiny finger filling you up, finger pumping into you while he sucks your clit into his mouth. He adds another finger, stretching you out. Warm breath fanning your cunt, he smirks at you, “Merlin you’re hot.” 
You opened your mouth to respond when his fingers curled inside you, eyes snapping shut at the heavenly feeling. Tongue back on your clit, occasionally sucking, you felt your orgasm building up deep inside you, the weight getting heavier when he adds another finger, his moans vibrating through your body. 
You were done for, loud moans filling the room, nails holding him against your cunt, thighs shaking around his shoulders as you reach your climax. He works you through it, nimble fingers dragging your orgasm out. 
His fingers slip out moments later, your cunt clenching around nothing. You open your eyes to the sight of Remus slipping his slick-covered fingers in his mouth, tongue making sure to get every last bit. 
Your hands reach for his pants, hurrying to unzip the denim and pull them down his thighs. “Someone’s need-fuck.” He cuts himself with a groan, head falling against your shoulder as your hands reach into his black boxers, slowly stroking his cock. 
He pulls down his boxers, his hard cock springing free and you have to withhold your moan. He reaches into the bedside table to grab a condom, playing with his cock before rolling the condom on. 
You lay underneath him and watch in wonderment, hands finding their way to your nipples and rolling them between your fingers. “I need you,” You whisper. His hands stop their movements from where they were kneading your thighs, eyes meeting yours. “Yeah?” You nod. “You’ve had me for months now, baby.” 
His mouth is back on yours, tongue tracing your lips as he lowers, one hand by your neck, the other holding your thigh up and against his waist. IMpatinelty, one of your hands move downwards to his cock, lining it up against your soaked entrance. He laughs, “Patience, baby.”
He rubs his tip along your slit before thrusting inside you with a groan, your back arching up, nipples grazing his chest as you moan in pleasure. 
With one more roll of his hips, he’s fully inside you, chest pressed up against your own as he starts trailing deep kisses down your throat. Your hands fly up, nails clawing at his neck, pulling him closer when he starts moving. 
His hips thrust in slow, fluid motions. Reviling in the low groans coming from the man above you. Forcing your eyes to open, you look down to where your bodies connect, cunt clenching around nothing causing Remus to let out a loud moan. 
Nails raking over his skin, you pull him in for a kiss, hot bodies moving in sync as he fucks you deeply. One of your hands trails downwards, towards his stomach and you feel his muscles contract in pleasure. 
Mouth open, you moaned in pleasure when he brought your other leg up to wrap around his waist, his cock even deeper than before. The sight of his eyebrows pulled together, beads of sweat dripping down your neck as you close, head falling back against the pillow, needy whines leaving your lips as one of his hands finds your clit, rubbing it aggressively. 
“You’re such a good girl. Taking my cock so well,” He grunted against your sweaty skin.
You moaned, hips moving faster against his own as you felt your orgasm building up, nails digging into his shoulders. “Your body is perfect. Like it was made for me,” He slurs, hips slamming hard into you, his loud groans mixed with your moans filling the air, toes curling in pleasure. 
“Please, I- gonna cum-” You cut yourself off with a loud moan, his hips thrusting into you with incredible speed as you come, thighs shaking around his waist, breaths coming in short pants. 
His head falls against your shoulder, thrusts becoming sloppy as he pumps into you, greedily chasing his own high, moans growing louder and louder. One hand reaching up and into his hair, you gently pull the sweat-soaked strands, “Cum,” You whisper into his ear. 
“Fuck,” He whispers before coming inside of you, hips abruptly stopping as his mouth falls open against your warm skin. Goosebumps pebble your skin as he gently pulls out of you a moment later, hands rubbing your body as he places kisses against your skin. You can’t control your smile as you watch him dispose of the condom before laying back down beside you on the bed. 
You turn your body to face him, eyes tracing his face. You watch his cheeks flush and can’t withhold a laugh. “What?” He asks, hands running through your hair. 
“You just fucked the living daylights out of me and still blush when I look at you,” You respond teasingly, resting your head against his bare chest. He places a kiss on your forehead, looking at you like you hung the moon. 
“You make me nervous,” He admits truthfully and your heart speeds up.
“You make me nervous, too.” You whisper. 
He looks down, his warm breath fanning your cheek. “Does this mean we can go on a second date?” You laugh, slapping his chest playfully, “Fuck off.”
“I’m going to take that as a yes,” He responds smugly, your heart speeding up at the prospect of going on another date with him. 
“It is a yes.”
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@aremuslupinsimp
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aziraphales-library · 3 months
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Hi there, do you by chance have any fics where Crowley is oblivious to Aziraphale's attempts to court/date/marry him? If so thank you very much and if not well, sorry to be a bother. Thank you.
Hello. We have an #oblivious crowley tag! Here are some more fics to add to the collection...
Drunk on Love by HKBlack (T)
Waking up still drunk and dealing with the hangover has never been quite as good.
just thinking of you, i know i’ve loved you from the start by rocketfizz (G)
"Angel, what is going on?" Crowley growled, keeping his voice low. Aziraphale felt his heart jump as he did so. "Nothing, my dear boy," He assured, "We’re just having a ball. Jane Austen, remember?" Crowley scoffed. "We both know this won't work. This isn't the 1800s anymore. People just don't… fall in love with some froofy violins and choreographed dance moves." — or basically my take if the demons didn’t storm the bookshop and aziraphale got to confess.
The smallest of details by doduckshavears (T)
“Right. So.” the demon cleared his throat. “We— walked. Around the park.” “Creative,” Nina couldn't help but add. “Right, yep, that’s it,” Crowley said as he started to get up from his chair. Ah, if looks could kill. Or, The one where Aziraphale's behaviour leaves Crowley incredibly confused, and both Maggie and Nina try to help him out. He seems to be missing some undoubtedly minor detail somewhere. Yep. Definitely minor.
The Art of Seduction by Caedmon (E)
Five times Aziraphale tried to seduce Crowley - and one time he succeeded.
Angelic Guide to Seduction of Demons by Nerama (M)
In an attempt to seduce Crowley, Aziraphale flawlessly follows the brilliant advice provided in literature. So why is Crowley scared that his angel is ill?
10 Easy Ways To Seduce Your Demon by WaitingToBeBroken (T)
"Angel, are you flirting with me?" "Have been for the last 4 years, darling. But thank you for noticing."
- Mod D
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incorrectquoteswwdits · 8 months
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I know we have the Masterpost but an Anon has also sent me this really detailed summary of the episodes!!!
Spoilers follow! WILL spoil you on the background and things that we were missing/any gaps in Episode 1 or 2. Big thanks to Anon! Thanks for typing this out!
@azirafuck if you’d like to add this to the masterpost feel free!
“Spoiler that I haven't seen mentioned yet and you might be interested in: The reason Crowley and Aziraphale are involved in Nina and Maggie's love life is because Aziraphale lies to Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael.
Long babbling explanation with lots of background on Maggie/Nina:
Aziraphale is Maggie's landlord because her record shop used to be part of Aziraphale's bookshop and he still owns that part of the building. Maggie is super behind on rent but Aziraphale doesn't care and has to convince her to let him forgive her debt in exchange for an £8 record. They seem to be pretty friendly and she special orders records for him. She is infatuated with Nina but they barely know each other.
Early in the day of ep 1, Maggie goes to Nina's for a coffee, they talk briefly about the record shop (Nina thinks it's dumb because no one buys records anymore). They're interrupted by the naked man in the street.
Gabriel goes to the bookshop and talks with Aziraphale. Aziraphale invites Crowley to the coffee shop to try and tell him (insert the sneak peek).
Crowley doesn't want to be involved and doesn't want Aziraphale to be involved. He tries to convince Aziraphale to just drop Gabriel off somewhere and when Aziraphale says no he gets mad and storms out. (Other sneak peek) He smokes it the street and then shoots out lighting that cuts power and cell service in Nina's shop.
Meanwhile, Maggie has gone back to the shop to gift Nina a Nina Simone record, but Nina just says she doesn't have anything to play it on. Nina also at this point mentions she has an overbearing partner at home who will be upset if she's home late so she's trying to hurry Maggie out. But when the power goes out Nina's security system automatically engages and locks them in. They're stuck in there a few hours, Nina pulls out some wine and Maggie admits that she's never really drank or partied, wasn't ever wild as a teenager, etc. Eventually Crowley comes back, they're able to get his attention, and he fixes the power. Nina's partner has sent her many texts and voicemails angry and anxious that she's late.
That night, Aziraphale and Crowley perform a miracle to hide Gabriel that they think is small and unnoticeable (if we each do half a miracle neither side will notice) but it ends up being massive and heaven notices.
The next day, Gabriel, despite not being able to remember anything, starts singing Everyday. Aziraphale doesn't know the song so he goes to Maggie to ask her about it. She starts gushing to him about how embarrassed she is for trying to give Nina the record and everything she admit the night before and how in love she is but it's stupid because Nina has a partner anyway. Aziraphale kind of brushes it off, saying they will discuss later because he needs to know about the song. She gives him the record and tells him about the pub. (She keeps sending them records for their juke box, they keep sending them back because they all just end up playing Everyday)
Almost immediately after, Michael, Uriel, and Saraqael show up at the bookshop to question him about the miracle. He lies and says the miracle was to make Nina and Maggie fall in love. Michael says they're going to send someone to check on that. Aziraphale tells Crowley and they decide that they need to make Maggie and Nina actually fall in love before heaven finds out about the lie. Crowley says they need to catch them in the rain so they get wet and huddle under an awning and Aziraphale says they need to throw a grand ball like in a Jane Austen novel. (They seem to settle on trying both, but neither happens in ep 1 or 2)”
(MY NOTES: AHHH??? NINA AND MAGGIE??? MAGGIE IN LOVE WITH NINA WITHOUT HER EVEN KNOWING HER?!! NINA ALREDY HAS A PARTNER?!! A BALL OMG WE ARE GOING TO SEE A GRAND BALL IN THAT EPISODE PLANNED FOR N AND M, BUT CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE WILL JUST LOOK AT EACH OTHER I STG
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can i request Remus x best friend!reader where they have a fight and it leads to them confessing their feelings? would love angst with either fluff or smut ending
i hope you like it!! thank you for requesting the boy and trope i was just in the mood for! (btw i don't do smut for anon requests, but happily post it as anon if you've messaged me so i know it's not for a minor)
pairing: Remus x reader
tags: best friends to lovers, angst, fluff, keeping up with my bookish! Remus and reader fixation, gn 
word count: 2.7k
“Hi,” you whisper into his neck as his arms squeeze around you.
“Hey.” He smiles as he pulls back from your greeting hug. “How are you?” he asks as you begin walking, leaving his arm around your shoulders. 
“Good. I had the craziest dream last night; I was pretty disappointed to wake up to be honest,” you begin enthusiastically. “Till you remembered you had plans with me, right?”
You playfully nudge Remus from within his embrace, and though rolling your eyes as you do, you say, “Obviously,” with a smirk. 
“Great,” he chuckles. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, you can tell me about the dream.” You laugh together as you delve into it on your walk to the bookshop.
You and Remus are browsing — reading the blurbs, looking at the cool covers and curated shelves and tables, laughing lightheartedly, chatting about the ones you’d each read already or wanted to read next. It’s nice, one of your preferred ways of spending an afternoon: one of your favourite places, with your favourite person. 
“Alright,” you tell him seriously. “Time for the painful bit.” You plop your stack of selections in front of him. He gives them an exaggeratedly serious stare.
“Hm. How many do we have to cut it down to?” 
“Three,” you say solemnly. “Maybe four…” after a pause and another longing look at the stack. He grins at you. “Been saving up,” you shrug.
Remus helps you choose, and with your final cut, you go over to the till. You swallow when you notice who’s working it: the rather attractive boy who’d been working the last few times you’d been at the shop. He had beautiful brown eyes, brown hair, a kind of gloomy look, and was always wearing cosy-looking jumpers. You’re a bit nervous when it’s your turn, and you place the books down in between you with only a quick glance and awkward grin his way. He says something to you, and for some reason, it throws you off a bit but makes you decidedly less nervous. 
“Thanks,” you respond, realizing he was complimenting your selection. He’d done that last time too. 
“You come here a lot, huh?” he asks, and it hits you: he sounds nothing like Remus. 
Why the hell does that matter? you think to yourself. 
“I remember you. From last time,” he goes on at your silence. 
You only like him because he reminds of you Remus, a little voice whispers in your head. Ugh, shut up, you push it down.
“Yeah,” you smile. “My best friend and I come here all the time,” you tell him, looking back toward Remus at “best friend.” You notice Remus glaring in your direction and find it odd but look back at the boy. He’s smiling more widely now, nodding as he rings up the books. 
He’s finished up, and you’re turning to go when he adds, “Wait!” He grabs one from the stack of free bookmarks with the shop name and number, and he writes another phone number on it. “One can never have too many bookmarks, right?” he smiles at you, offering it to you. “I like it seeing you around here,” he shrugs. “Maybe I can see you somewhere else sometime though?” 
You grin, surely blushing, take the bookmark, and say, “Yeah, maybe. Thanks.” You go over to the door to wait for Remus, who’s getting a book at the other till. You walk out together; he’s scowling. 
It feels weird to tell him about this; you’re not sure why… Because you’re in love with him… Again, Shut up! But you tell him everything, and besides, you’re actually quite excited. 
“You’re not going to believe what just happened.”
“Hm?” he offers with disinterest, not even looking at you. “Look.” You show him the bookmark. He looks interested now. 
“He gave you this?” he shoots. You nod, biting your lip in a giddy shyness. “Are you going to call him?” Remus asks with a sharp edge to his tone. 
“I don’t know… Maybe? He seems nice.” “You’ve hardly even spoken to him. You have no idea if he’s ‘nice.’” The last word comes out sardonic, and it makes you wince. You don’t notice him wincing too. You shrug and grab the bookmark back, and the two of you continue your walk in silence. 
You’re meeting your friends at the pub, and you’re grateful James and Sirius are already sitting at a nice outdoor table when you arrive, eager to escape the tense silence with Remus. “Hello, my favourite nerds. How was the bookshop?” Sirius teases, smiling at you both.
“Good,” you grin; Remus just shrugs. “What’s with you?” Sirius notices. “Nothing,” Remus grunts and goes inside to the bar. Immediately just turning to you, Sirius asks, “What’s with him?” “I don’t know.” You sound sad. “You always know. It’s creepy sometimes, the two of you; it’s like you read each other’s minds,” then, in a cheeky tone, “usually.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You’re snappier than you meant to be. 
“Nothing,” he cedes, but he gives you a knowing look that makes you nervous. You keep glaring at him, and he just chuckles and gives you a quick side hug.
Remus is silent and brooding for the duration of the evening, Sirius and James having given up after several failed attempts at conversation with him. Occasionally, you catch him looking at you, but — quite atypically — you can’t read his expression, and he always looks away when you notice. He doesn’t seem to be hiding his looks, just avoiding moments with you when you look back… and it’s really getting under your skin. 
“Anyone got a light?” Sirius asks, patting down his jacket, a cig already dangling from his lips. “I might,” you respond. You’re wearing your go-to jacket, so there’s a good chance you have the lighter you use for the occasional blunt. Feeling around in your pockets, you pull out the contents and absentmindedly put a couple things down in front of you. “What’s this then?” You can hear the smirk in Sirius’s voice before even looking at him. You’re mortified when he picks up the bookmark.  “Maybe your bookshop isn’t as boring as I thought. Aren’t you cheeky?” he chuckles at you, shaking it between you.
You snatch it from him and say, “It’s nothing.” “Oh, c’mon. There’s nothing wrong with that. Is he fit?” Before you can stop yourself, you look over at Remus. You look away quickly — not missing Remus’s glower — but Sirius notices anyway, looks at him too then back at you, his grin not leaving his face. “What d’you think, mate?” he asks Remus, and your eyes go wide in warning, but Sirius either doesn’t notice or ignores you. Remus gives a “don’t care” frown and shrug. “What? No opinion on Y/N’s new boyfriend?” Sirius continues. Remus scoffs and gives a cynical laugh, and to your surprise, your hurt at his behaviour all afternoon interlaces with anger at this. 
“What?” you snap, and Remus immediately looks to you, some surprise in his eyes, no longer avoiding your gaze. “Is it laughable that someone would like me?” The mood has safely made its way into awkwardness, but you don’t care. “What’s so funny about someone wanting to be my boyfriend, Remus?” He doesn’t say anything. “You’ve been such a prick all afternoon,” you tell him, collecting your things. You turn to Sirius, saying, “Cover me, will you? I’ll pay you back tomorrow.” You’ve already started walking away by the time he nods. 
Your eyes are puffy from crying last night when you wake, the memory of last night’s events hitting you like an ice bath. You grunt and roll over, trying — but failing miserably — not to dwell on it. Until you remember something else.
“Fuck.” You had plans with Remus today. You’d agreed to meet at the park to start the books you’d bought yesterday. You’re not sure what to do. Do you show up like nothing happened? Do you not show up and escalate things? Or, scariest of all, do you show up and address what the hell happened?
After changing your mind several times, you opt to at least show up. What’ll happen after that, you leave to the moment. When the time comes, you get ready and head over. 
You’re surprised at how surprised you are to see Remus already there, sitting on the grass. Had you really expected him not to show? You hadn’t had the thought consciously — you would’ve almost certainly freaked out if you had — but your palpable relief informs you you’d been terrified at the possibility. It would’ve been so unlike him; you normally would never have even entertained the idea. But his behaviour last night confused you, and not being on the same page as him filled you with confusion and dread.
He notices you, gives you a strained smile; you return one in turn. 
“Hey.” “Hi.”
You linger awkwardly above him before sitting down next to him, a bit further than you usually would have. The silence seems to follow your cue, elongating itself in a way that never happened with Remus. 
He’s fiddling with the grass, not looking at you when he finally says, “About last night…” You take a deep breath, and it gets caught in your chest when his gaze meets yours. “I…” He clears his throat, looks down again, then back up at you. “I’m sorry.” You nod slowly, still just staring at him. 
Before you can think about whether it’s a good idea or not, you say, “Why were you being so weird?”
“You really don’t know?” He doesn’t sound as soft as he did during his apology. 
“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t be asking.” You’re harsher too. 
He groans and, no longer looking at you, whisper-yells, “Fuck, you’re difficult sometimes.” You scoff and cringe away from him. 
“‘Difficult?’ I’m difficult? You’re the one being a prick for seemingly no reason, Rem. And now you’re blaming me?” “I’m not blaming you. I’m just saying —”
“What?” you snap. “What are you saying? Because it seems to me that you’re never saying anything, Remus. Whenever anything tense happens, you never say anything.” 
“Neither do you! What do you want me to say?!” “Yes I do!” “No, you don’t.” 
You glare at each other in electric silence.
You grab your bag and stand up. 
“I don’t really feel like reading anymore,” you offer lamely, seething. He stands up too, following you. 
“You see?! I don’t say anything, but at least I don’t fucking run away every time.” You spin to face him, and it’s so quick, you end up really close to each other before he stops fast-walking toward you. You can hear his heavy breathing, see his nostrils flaring as he scowls. 
“Run away?”
“Yeah.” It’s mean but certain. “Run away,” he repeats.
“What’s that supposed to fucking mean? It’s not like you can’t stop me… Or at least give me a fucking call afterward.” You sound hurt at the end, and Remus winces knowingly. 
“I was going to. I was. I just didn’t know what to say.” 
“Typical. Fucking typical.” You turn to keep walking away. 
He groans loudly in exasperation and walks faster to stand in front of you, cutting you off. “Can you just fucking wait one second?” He runs his hand roughly over his face, harshly through his messy hair. You quirk an eyebrow at him expectantly. 
When he doesn’t say anything for a few moments, you say, “That was more than one second,” and start walking again. 
“Stop. For fuck’s sake, just stop.” He stands in front of you again. “Why? It’s not like you’re saying anything.” Then, more softly, “And I don’t like fighting with you, okay? Maybe that’s why I ‘run away.’” The last two words still manage to sound sarcastic, but you’re whispering by the end, and you look down sadly. “Why don’t you say anything? Why does it have to be me?” He takes a tentative step forward and puts a gentle hand on your shoulder. You look into his eyes, and tears well in yours. One falls, and his thumb comes up to wipe it off. You push his hand away but don’t let go of it. He lets you hold his hand, and you stare down at where you’re connected rather than look at him. 
“I don’t like fighting with you,” you repeat, whispering. He steps a bit closer to you. “I hate fighting with you,” he says firmly. “But you know what’s worse?” You look up at him and shake your head subtly. “The moment after you leave. Being without you. Especially if I know you’re upset or… angry with me.” He looks up at the sky, takes a deep breath, looks at you again. “All I want to do is comfort you. Apologize. Tell you the truth…,” he says desperately. “But I don’t.” This comes out harsh; the anger back in his voice but no longer directed at you. “Because I’m an idiot… But I’d choose fighting with you over being without you every time.” 
“Those can’t be the only two options.” Your voice is soft. He gives a quiet but honest chuckle. Then his face sets seriously, determination creeping into his features.
“Ask me again.” “Ask you what?”
“Why I was being such a prick last night.” “So you admit you were a prick?” “Y/N,” he whines. “For fuck’s sake.” “Okay, okay, sorry,” you say quickly. “Why were you being such a prick last night?”
“Because… I…,” he starts but gets stuck. “When you…” He shakes his head. “I…” He closes his eyes and whispers, “Fuck.” He opens them, looks back and forth between yours, takes a step closer to you. He brings his hand that’s not in yours up to your face, brings his forehead to rest on yours. He nudges your nose with his, caresses your cheek. “Y/N,” he whispers, all the frustration replaced by something much warmer. You shift the tiny bit necessary to connect your lips with his. His hands tighten, and his lips push softly but firmly back.
You take a deep breath in, like breathing him will fill you with life… and it does. You open your mouth, and you feel a groan in his chest where it’s flush with yours as he licks his tongue against yours. You let go of his hand to hold his face firmly in both of yours, pulling him into you. His arms wrap around your hips, pulling you into his lower half as his upper half chases your mouth. You kiss and kiss and kiss, soft but hungry, until you finally part, only your lips detaching from each other, the rest of your bodies still connected. Your thumbs rub his cheeks; his hands squeeze your hips; your noses bump into each other. 
“You still haven’t said anything…” you whisper. You expect him to retort that neither have you, to joke or complain or jokingly complain. 
Instead, after a gruff chuckle, he says, “I love you.” He turns his embrace into a full hug, his arms firmly around you, his head in the crook of your neck. You cling to him. 
“You’re my best friend, Y/N,” he goes on. “My best friend in the fucking world.” He leans back a bit to be able to look into your eyes as he goes on. “But you’re so much more than that too. You’re the fucking love of my life,” he says with a heartfelt chuckle. “And I am done not telling you that.” You bring his mouth to yours again, kissing him deeply.
“You’re mine too. I promise I won’t run away anymore. I’m sorry I —” 
“Don’t,” he cuts you off with a kiss, shaking his head. “I wish I’d told you sooner, but I’ve loved every minute with you. And now we have the rest of our lives to do this too.” With a cheeky smile, he kisses you again.
“I love you,” you tell him. He squeezes you tight and keeps kissing you. 
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ineffablesuffering · 7 months
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There Must Be an Angel (Aziraphale x reader)
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I'd like to thank @avocado-writing for the inspo for this fic. They recommended I add this song to my 80s playlist (because I totally forgot this song existed) and this fic was born! I think this is classed as a songfic? I'm not too sure, anyway enjoy! <3
Pairing: Aziraphale x Reader
Warnings: unorganised bookshelves
Word count: 948 (short and sweet, might write a part 2?)
Masterlist
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“Aziraphale?” you called as you walked through the door of the bookshop, the familiar comforting scent of dust, tea and incense filled your nostrils.
“Ah, Y/N! I was wondering when you would get here,” he said appearing from the back room. “How are you, my dear?” he asked, embracing you.
You gladly returned his embrace “I’m good thank you, how are you?”
“Much better now that you’re here,” he smiled “Shall we get started?”
You had agreed to help Aziraphale organise his books after Jim/Gabriel (you never were sure what to call him) had attempted to sort them in his own unique way. It had been driving him up the wall as he could never find what he was looking for. You were more than happy to help out a friend in need, besides, you enjoyed his company. You nodded and let him show you where he wanted you to start.
“It’s been so frustrating trying to find anything since,” he stopped and sighed “I’m not even going to mention it because it just annoys me. If you want to start here with whatever this is, I’ll start over there,” he pointed to a bookshelf on the other side of the room.
“Sure!” you said cheerfully, “you don’t mind if I listen to some music while I work, do you? Helps me concentrate.”
“Not at all my dear,” he said with a smile, “whatever helps you.” He gave your shoulder a pat before walking off to where he would be working.
You smiled at him as he walked off, pulling your headphones out of your bag and connecting them to your phone. You selected a playlist and got started. The shelves were a disaster zone but at least they were all of the same genre otherwise it would have taken all day to fix whatever was going on. You began by gently taking off all the books from the shelves and placing them on a table nearby before deciding that it would be best to alphabetise by author. Getting stuck in, you bopped along to the music playing on your headphones, singing quietly to yourself every so often. The time passed rather quickly and soon you were on to a new section.
You decided to take the section next to the one where you had started and repeated the process. Taking books of the shelf, placing them on a table and reorganising them. You changed your playlist to an 80’s one and continued to sing along quietly. The smooth sounds of Eurythmics played through your ears. You smiled and continued to work. “I walk into an empty room, and suddenly my heart goes boom, it’s an orchestra of angels and they’re playing with my heart,” you sang.
Aziraphale stopped in the middle of putting a book back on the shelf a few aisles away. He could hear you singing softly to yourself almost as if you didn’t think anyone could hear you. You weren’t singing loudly but it was definitely loud enough for him to hear. He tilted his head slightly, not recognising the song but the fact that you were singing about angels definitely caught his attention. He peaked out from the bookshelf that he was organising and walked around to where you were working.
“I must be hallucinating watching angels celebrating,” you continued to sing.
He stopped when he reached you and stood and watched as you continued to sing softly, not noticing he was standing there. He watched with a soft smile on his lips, you seemed so content organising and singing. You continued to place book by book back on the shelf in an organised manner and he just watched. You started to sing what he assumed to be a different song.
“I hear your voice, it’s like an angel sighing, I have no choice, I hear your voice feels like flying,” you sang.
Aziraphale leans slightly against the bookshelf just watching you. His eyes danced across your figure as you worked, he felt like he could watch you all day. You turned around ready to start on a new set of shelves and jump at the sight of Aziraphale watching you.
“Jesus Christ!” you said, getting a fright “I didn’t hear you come up behind me, is everything okay?” you laughed taking off your headphones.
Aziraphale chuckled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just heard you singing, you’ve got a lovely voice.”
You blushed and bashfully dropped your gaze to the ground. You hadn’t realised that you were singing loud enough for him to hear you. “Thanks,” you mumbled. Aziraphale stepped closer to you, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look at him.
“There’s no need to be shy my dear,” he smiles moving his hand from your chin to brush a finger across your cheek, almost appreciating the blush. “It was quite beautiful. Almost angelic.” You stood there, gaping at him. You didn’t know what to say or how to react. “What were you singing darling?” he asked softly, snapping you out of your trance.
“Oh! Um what song?” you asked
“The last two just there.”
“Ah, so that was There Must Be an Angel and then the second one was called Like a Prayer.”  
“Hmm, I see,” he started “fitting do you not think?” Again, you were at a loss for words. What is going on? You thought to yourself. Aziraphale smiled at you, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Tea?” he asked. You didn’t say a word as you found yourself staring at him as he walked away.
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notinusesworld · 5 months
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Hello! Is it okay if you write a Crowley x f!reader x Aziraphale where the reader has long hair that Crowley and Azi love to play with so they decide to go outside and create strong gusts of wind to play with the reader’s hair?
I love your work btw 😇 love from Scotland
a/n: thank you so much! i wasn’t entirely sure how to work in the wind thing into the story sorry, so at the end i did some bonus head cannons based on the general idea of them loving your hair. i hope you enjoy it ^^
“Blistering heat” Poly Aziraphale x human f!reader x Crowley
synopsis: during a particularly hot summer, you decide to go to aziraphale’s bookshop to keep cool, + bonus head cannons at the end, established relationship
warnings: assumed to have straight-wavy hair in the story, sorry to the 3A+ girlies, the head cannons have more variety though. also the head cannons may be mildly suggestive because having a bath together is mentioned
a/n: 40°C is 104°F, i don’t know fahrenheit so i relied on google for that
requests are open and encouraged!
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It was a relatively normal day in July. Well, not for the people in London. The year was 2022, on a Tuesday if you must know. It’s one of the hottest days on record, raising above 40 degrees celsius. This may not be that terrible for the rest of the world, but for the people of Britain, hell might as well have opened up. Because it pretty much did, some demon surely trigged this heatwave. But Crowley wasn’t quite sure who.
Speaking of the demon, he finds himself in Aziraphale’s book shop this particular afternoon; completely unbothered by what’s going on around him. The angel didn’t really seem to care either. Both wearing their usual attire reading whatever book they decided to pick up that day. You however, couldn’t stand the heat. You knew that Aziraphale blessed the bookshop to be the perfect temperature for whoever went in it, so you decide to brave the walk there after wasting away in your non-air-conditioned apartment. You cursed whoever decided to not make them common in the UK; not knowing that it was Crowley’s idea.
After closing the door behind you, you felt an verwhelming relief. The room immediately cooled your body as you dramatically walked to the boyfriend’s and collapsed onto the settee next to Aziraphale’s desk. You didn’t say anything to either of them and just laid there, face implanted in the soft red pillow.
“You alright darling?” The demon broke the silence. You only murmured incoherently against the pillow, probably saying something along the lines of “what does it look like”, before rolling over to the side to look at Aziraphale sitting on his desk. “You hair looks… uh, lovely!” Aziraphale smiles rather awkwardly. It in fact, didn’t look lovely. You haphazardly threw it in a bobble on your way there to prevent it from acting like a blanket. “Thanks, I decided I’d rather not die of heatstroke.” You replied sarcastically, sitting up.
Crowley got up and took the seat next to you, “May I?” He asked. You nod and he miracles the hair tie onto his wrist, making your long hair fall down your back. You still haven’t gotten used to them doing things like this. He brushes his fingers through it before plaiting it, placing a kiss on the top of your head after finishing. “It looks stunning but that’s not going to help much Crowley,” Aziraphale stands up and leans over Crowley, wrapping your hair in a bun and securing it with some clips. “All better!”
Crowley gives Aziraphale a dirty look, he notices this and holds the demons face giving him a kiss on the forehead. “Come now, there’s no need to be like that dear. There will be plenty more opportunities for you to do up her hair I’m sure.” He adds on, Crowley just scoffs and wraps his arms around you, leaning his head on your shoulder as he watched the angel sit back down at his desk.
He turns his attention back into you. “How would you like to braid my hair this time princess?” As you turn back to look at him, his hair is already below his shoulders. You smile, happily taking his hair in your hands.
ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ઇଓ
- They both absolutely adore your hair. They will take any chance they get to hold it, style it and/or brush it
- Aziraphale likes to lay you on his chest and just mess with it between his fingers
- Something you and Crowley have done together quite a few times now is have a bath together, he likes to help you wash your hair
- A few times one of them have made it purposefully windy when they’re out so they have an excuse to fuzz over and “fix” your hair
- Crowley adores humans and so he also love’s different cultures and customs, if you have kinky hair he likes to try out loads of different kind of braid styles on it, every so often on your days often he’ll come to your apartment with extensions, his favourite are micro braids, despite how long it takes
- Same goes if you have straight to wavy hair, he likes to try out different traditional European braid styles, his personal favourite is the Dutch braid
- On the other hand, Aziraphale likes to buy accessories for your hair, headbands, beads, clips, bows. If he’s out and sees something he likes he’ll always gift them to you, Crowley makes sure to incorporate them when he’s doing your hair
- A couple of times at your request they’ve miracled your hair to be different lengths/styles temporary for you to see what they’re like, it’s great being able to see before making any sudden decisions
- Crowley have also miracled your hair to look wacky at night so you have a little fright in the mornings, he never keeps it like it for long though
- Both of them are always carrying around at least one bobble with them at all times for you
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roseserpentpress · 11 days
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Comments and fic links below! (PS: click to see not crap quality photos/videos)
First finished ficbind for 2024, and first that I actually tried my hand at gold leafing (compared to previous use of gold inking). The gilding uses a hand-painted on glue and then the gold sheet overload and rubbed off; since the glue is put down not flat it adds a bit of texture to it, much like embroidery which I found cool. The design was based off a old cover design which I altered slightly to fit for the title of the book; been wanting to use one of the designs for a very long time now so rather chuffed to use one this time round, and (generally) well please with the typesetting. I actually painted the cover all in one long day with one piece running in the background during the holidays, lol. Two photos below are WIP photos and one including one of my su-purr-visors on my very cluttered desk. He's since passed due to being hit by a car, so the photos of him supervising me for this fanbind is something special to me.
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The book itself contains mainly the Trigun vashwood fic Trillium and Ivy and upon remembering that there's a few other shorter stories involved, it became an impromptu anthology of the series. So overall it contains:
Trillium and Ivy (E, 80k)
Nick Wolfwood is the new director of Conrad-Chapel Funeral Home in May City, located across the street from Saverem Greenhouse & Landscaping. Over time, the owner, Vash, gets to know Nick and introduces him to the rest of the neighborhood, including local busybodies and married feminist bookshop owners Meryl and Milly. Vash and Nick are inexorably drawn to each other until they have to start admitting their feelings.
But Vash's brother, co-owner of the garden center, hasn't left his past as far behind as the twins had hoped when they started their lives over in May.
Raise a Glass to the Turnings of the Season (G, 7k)
A collection of small ficlets set in the universe of Trillium and Ivy, a modern AU in which Wolfwood runs a funeral home across the street from Vash and Knives' garden center.
Regarding the subjects of hospital visits, body image issues, adoption, laundry, and more.
I've seen all the demons that you've got (T, 8k)
The Hollywood-glam-slash-mad-scientist meet cute is going perfectly well, thank you. Except for all the anxiety, loneliness, insomnia, nightmares, body dysmorphia, identity struggles, poor communication, stalkers, arson, kidnapping, drugs, and concussions.
Other than those things... Knives might actually be onto a good thing in his life for once.
[A brief look into Knives' experience during Trillium and Ivy, a modern AU in which Wolfwood runs a funeral home across the street from Vash and Knives' garden center.]
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 8 months
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HELLO!!! i have a request for a platonic Crowley and Aziraphale x fem!reader with she/they pronouns 😄 if you know Nimona, then thats what i want the reader to be like. theyre a spunky, immortal, young teenager anarchist who can shapeshift and has unnaturally coloured eyes and hair. one day they find the two (husbands), and kinda just stays, so Crowley and Aziraphale accept their fate!! i dont mind if you decide to include a smudge of angst (or a shit ton whatever you prefer, but im impartial to both, so do with that what you will,) because after the newest season, i cant get enough of it.
many thanks!!
Oh! I haven't seen the movie but I know about Nimona!
......
You met Aziraphale and Crowley in 537 AD, encountering them by pure chance.
At first you intimidate them as a dragon, thinking they were two hapless knights who lost their way back to their kingdom..
Until you saw Crowley's snake eyes, and you realize he's not human at all.
"You there...I like your eyes.....are you another shapeshifter?"
"...um..nope." The demon in black armor looks incredibly confused, especially at this dragon talking to him. "Don't know what gave you that idea.."
"Well technically he is." The white knight adds on, smiling nervously. "You see, my erm..."rival" here is something of a serpent who was sent to-"
"Shut it, Angel. This beast doesn't need our lifestory! Now if you could kindly excuse us, o' great dragon, we have to discuss-"
"Hate to break it to you, but....I'm not actually a dragon."
"Then what are you exactly? You...said something about "shapeshifting" before, didn't you?"
To answer Crowley's question, you transform into a young human clad in knight armor, taking off your helmet to reveal your unnaturally-colored eyes and hair, smiling. "Bingo."
The pair are quite impressed, so they have no reason to hide the fact they were an angel and demon.
You explained how you've had these shapeshifting powers for a long time, being on the run since everyone thinks you're a "cursed child" or some monster that was once banished, wanting nothing more than to drive a sword through your heart.
When it's clear that neither Aziraphale nor Crowley have any intentions of hurting you....that's when you decided to stick with them.
It took them 20 years to realize you never aged, learning you're an immortal being in a teenager's body.
Your powers allow you to keep up with the times, disguising yourself as animals, people...or even angels and demons if your heart so desired.
Sometimes you'll turn into a snake much like Crowley's own snake form (although your scales have the color of your hair, ofc, so you're not 100% identical).
You haven't mastered turning just your head into a snake, however.
In the modern era, you enjoy being a nightingale after learning they were both fond of those birds, often singing in the bookshop out of boredom.
Although Crowley's fully aware you're not a demon, you got a spunky and rebellious personality and love getting up to mischief.
And he 100% encourages this (while poor Aziraphale's practically begging you to stay out of trouble).
But you're definitely on the angel's side anytime he compliments Crowley, who just snarls and denies ever doing something "nice" or "good".
You don't believe he's all that evil for even a moment.
While you're aware that they have to act like they despise each other bc they're on opposite sides...in your eyes, they behave so much like an old married human couple.
Aziraphale emphasizing "our car" when talking about the Bentley made you roll your eyes and joke about when the wedding's gonna start.
When Aziraphale returns to Heaven without Crowley, you realize that maybe your "marriage jokes" went a bit too far...even though neither of them blame you for their falling out.
Still, you feel bad bc you can tell Crowley was genuinely in love with him.
You overheard everything, and after his "no nightingales" remark, you're reluctant to shapeshift into one again out of fear of upsetting him.
Yet he asks you, too, as he couldn't bear the silence in the bookshop anymore...and listening to any of Aziraphale's music records would've been too painful for him.
You obliged, staying perched on his shoulder as he stared out the window for hours...hoping that his angel would come back to him.
You hoped so, too, waiting everyday by his side...until the end of time if you had to.
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azirafuck · 8 months
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Just fyi- I was at the NY screening. The spoiler you've marked as maybe false in your masterpost is mostly true. Aziraphale has Gabriel hiding in his bookshop- both heaven and hell are looking for him. Crowley doesn't want to be involved, and they have the fight we see part of in the sneak peek (we carved out) and then leaves. (This is when he's smoking in the street also) Beazelbub does vaguely threaten Crowley while acting like they should work together, but the thing that sends him back is Beazelbub saying that anyone who is found out to be involved will be written out of existence. Not just discorporated or tortured or killed but to never have existed at all. He goes back to figure out how to hide Gabriel and Aziraphale's involvement. Aziraphale does force him to properly apologize and do a little dance before he'll talk to him again (the dance is a specific 'apology dance' and it's an established thing between them. but they imply that it's usually Aziraphale dancing, so Crowley probably came up with it to tease him in the past)
ooooooh my god. oh my god.
thank you so much for your update ❤️ gonna edit the post and add this to it! I am. going insane at all of this. to have NEVER existed at all. jesus fucking christ. Jesus Christ.
thank you again, gonna roll in bed all night thinking about this, love you ❤️
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