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ruh--roh-raggy · 5 months

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Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Part 2

Hello hello! Welcome back to part 2 of my fully self indulgent delusion! This is a very fluffy chapter, we get a little peek inside reader and William's day to day life while they start unpacking! Thank you all so much for the support and the comments and the reblogs and the likes, all of it! I'm grateful every single one of you is here! If you would like to be added to the tag list please don't hesitate to let me know! I hope you enjoy, thank you for reading!!

WARNINGS: None

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word Count: 4,168

Part 1 - Part 3

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You stretched as you sat up in bed, smiling as you caught sight of the tall pines that seemed to stretch on endlessly outside your window. You looked around for William, feeling his side of the bed was cold, you knew he had been up for a while. You grabbed the sweatshirt you had been wearing the night before from where it had ended up on the floor. You smile as the smell of motor oil and your husband's cologne fills your nose, the warm, worn fabric of his college sweatshirt pooling around your waist. You wrap your arms tightly around your body, your hands fully swallowed by the sweatshirt’s sleeves as your bare feet padded across the floor. You scrunched up your nose, rubbing the bottom of your foot off on the side of your leg as you stepped in a pile of dirt, making a comment about how you'd have to vacuum later. You wandered into the kitchen when you heard William’s voice, finding him twisting the phone’s chord around his finger as he chatted idly. He smiles at the sight of you sleepily stumbling up to him. You couldn't stop your eyes from raking over his body; his fleece pajama pants sitting low on his hips, his salt and pepper chest hair carpeting his chest before gradually thinning out to the happy trail that was cut off by his clothing. “Woof.” You grumble, causing him to chuckle. He places a hand over the receiver and gives you a playful, warning look.

“Behave.” He whispers with a wink. You look around the kitchen, a few stray bags of groceries littered the counter in various stages of being put away, a moving box labeled ‘pans’ in William’s big blocky script. “Yeah, we were planning on swinging by later.” From that statement alone you knew he was talking to Henry. You slide your arms around his torso, his free arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders as he draws you in closer. “No, I'm not trying to sneak in so I can work.” William groans in an unamused tone. The two make a few more remarks to each other before he hangs up. “Well good morning.” His voice becomes noticeably more chipper as he greets you.

“I had to wake up all alone, without my husband in bed next to me.” You close your eyes and look away from him with a soft “hmph”, a kiss getting pressed to your forehead to try and alleviate your mock annoyance.

“Oh, my poor girl. Look at you, about to whiter away from lack of attention.” He shoots back a fake pout. “How about you and I go take a shower and I'll take you out for breakfast, would that make up for it?”

You hum as you ponder over his offer, “I think I can work with that.” You giggle as he stops down to rest his forehead against yours, peppering your face in kisses. The bags on the counter catch your eye again. “When did you go grocery shopping?” He sighs at your question.

“Well, I was supposed to have breakfast ready for when you got up.” He scoops you up in his arms without missing a beat, walking around and holding you close to him was second nature at this point he did it so often. “But, Henry called, and you know who that goes.” You nod with a small laugh. “So, why not use the opportunity to take my girl out to breakfast?” He smiles warmly at you, your heart still flutters in your chest even after almost a decade of seeing that smile. He sets your down at the top of the stairs, your hand instinctively reaching out to take his as you ambled down the hall towards your master bathroom.

“Can we go to that place I like?” William can't help but smile at your vague question.

“The one with the shitty coffee and the good pancakes or the one that makes those fancy omelets? He asks in an attempt to clarify.

“The one with the shitty coffee and good pancakes.” You decide with a nod. William internally remarked how cute he thought it was when you swore. Chuckling to himself when he thought back to the time someone had rear-ended his car. The two of you had been driving back from dinner at Henry’s house, both of you laughing as you recounted your favorite moments from the evening. The light had changed a lot quicker than William was expecting as you pulled up to an intersection, making you rock slightly in your seat as he hit the brakes a little harder than normal. You both let out a shocked sound as the car suddenly gets shoved forward. Before William could even fully process what had happened your seatbelt was off and you were flying out of the passenger seat.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your voice grows deeper as rage bubbles up in your chest. “Are you fucking blind or just fucking stupid?” William’s eyes widen as he listens to the expletives fall from your lips with ease. Finally unclicking his own seatbelt and stepping out. You had powered up to the guy that rear-ended the car. A finger jabbing into his chest and pointing at the bumper, your voice unwaveringly stern as you ripped this man a new one. If he was being honest, he found this side of you pretty damn hot. Your whole expression softened as your eyes landed on him. “Honey, are you okay?” You practically shoved the man out of the way to get over to him. You immediately began fussing over him, asking if he had hit his head and checking him for seatbelt burns.

“I'm alright, bunny.” He pulls you against him, you finally allow yourself a moment to take a deep breath. “Why don't you go sit in the car and calm down? I'll handle this baby, don't worry.” He's snapped from the memory as your lips brushing over the back of his hand. “Sparky’s it is.” He smiles down at you. You helped William open up a few boxes, trying your best to dig out everything you would need to shower. “It has to get unpacked anyways, right?” He would remark with a pat on your head at the sound of your annoyed sighs. You sat on the floor organizing under the sink, William stood in the shower, securing the custom shelves he had built for you into place. He hummed as he worked, the corners of your lips quirking up in a smile as you recognized the song you had your first dance to at your wedding. You glance up at him, William giving you his trademark lopsided grin as his eyes lock with yours.

“So this is love.” The light, melodic sound of your voice floats through the room.

“So this is what makes life divine.” He joins you softly, his voice gravelly and slightly flat as he continues the next line.

“I'm all aglow.” He decides to continue with the humming, punctuating your lines. He steps out of the shower, taking your hand and giving you a slow spin before his arm wraps around your waist. You swayed in time to your singing, looking just as in love with you now as he did on your wedding night. His lips press to yours as he dips you backwards, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“I swear you look more beautiful every day.” He whispers. You lightly slap his chest, trying to hide the blush that has taken over your cheeks. The two of you finished setting up what you needed in the bathroom relatively quickly, you broke down the empty boxes while William got the shower started. He groans as the hot water hits his back, stretching his tired muscles.

“Wet your hair.” You command him softly as you step in front of him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, smirking at you playfully. “I'm sorry, what was that bunny?”

“Wet your hair.” You repeat a little louder, trying your best to appear confident despite the fact you wanted to melt under his gaze. “It’s my turn to take care of you.” He rests his hands on your waist, obliging your little request. You work the shampoo into his hair, earning a soft groan from him as you lightly scratch his scalp. “You always take such good care of me, you have to let me return the favor sometimes.” You smile up at him, placing a gentle kiss to his chest.

“But you're my little lady-” you cut him off before he even had the chance to argue. You have heard his reasoning a million times. You were his wife. That meant, if he could help it, you would never have to lift a finger. He was always opening doors for you, cooking breakfast, taking you out on dates, everything you have ever wanted or needed William has taken care of. Your job, according to him, was to look pretty and to let him spoil you. You, however, viewed things a little differently. You loved William to the moon and back and then some. No matter how much he would always try to fuss over you, he needed to be taken care of too, even if he didn't want to admit it. You made sure that there was always a hot meal on the table for when your husband would get home, even if it was just Chinese. When he had a particularly long day at work you would put in some extra effort into doting on him; taking care of putting away his jacket and work boots, gently guiding him to sit on the couch while you snuck off to prepare his plate for him, anything he needed you were on top of it before the thought even crossed his mind.

“I am your wife.” The sound of you so adamantly declaring that you were his threatened to bring William to his knees. “Fight it all you want, but since I am your wife, Mr. Afton…” your voice softens as you finish making your point. “It’s important to me that I take care of my husband however I can.” He smiles, stooping down to give you a caste kiss. “Now rinse.”

“Yes ma'am.” He responds with a chuckle.

You hummed softly as you dug through boxes of clothes, eventually deciding on one of William’s sweatshirts and a pair of his flannel pajamas pants. The soft fabric pooling around your ankles and making your hands disappear. William steps in the bedroom; drying off his glasses in a towel, his hair still damp from your shower, his beard neatly trimmed. “Well don't you look cozy.” You race into his open arms, letting him hug you tight to his chest. “You ready to get going?” You nod, your hand slipping into his as you allow him to lead you down the hallway. Throughout the drive you were both filled with laughter, recounting how days like this were a common occurrence when you first started dating.

“Well can you blame me? I was a full time student, working full time at Freddy’s, dealing with the absolutely scandalous lifestyle of falling in love with an older man.” He lets out a loud laugh at your dramatic tone over the last part.

“Did I ever say it was a problem?” He tries to defend himself. “There was nothing I loved more than picking you up after your Friday morning class. You would come stomping down to my car, quiet,” he tries to subdue his own chuckling by quieting your laughter, “you would throw all your stuff in the back seat, and you would lay down on my lap and fall asleep while I drove. It really doesn't sound like I had anything to complain about.”

“You were always so grouchy before your pancakes.” You mock his voice, sitting up straight in the seat and planting your hands firmly on your hips. Neither of you could keep a straight face, dissolving into fits of laughter as you pulled into the parking lot.

“Hey, Mr and Mrs Afton, welcome back.” You're greeted by the preppy red headed hostess. She leads you to your usual booth in the back corner, William always insisted a corner booth was quieter and more intimate. You had one of the paper placemats flipped over to the blank side in front of you. You passed a pen back and forth, playing tic tac toe while you waited for your food. You figured out a plan for the house, both of you excited to start settling into the space.

“I think we should start with the bedroom, it'll give us a nice little reprieve from all the chaos.” He chuckles, beating you once again at your game before putting the pen down. Your plates of pancakes clattered down in front of you, both of you rushing to dig into your meals so you could get the rest of your day started.

You pushed through your front door with a groan, arms filled with bags of cleaning supplies. You dragged everything upstairs, your husband not far behind as he unloaded the rest of your shopping. He places a quick kiss to your lips, the subtle taste of coffee still lingering from breakfast. When most of the heavy cleaning had been done you decided to take a break. You sprawled out in the middle of the empty floor, the hardwood cool against your back. You could hear the soft sounds of William jogging back up the stairs and down the hall before he re-entered the room. He set down a box next to you, before joining you on the floor. “What's this?” You grin excitedly, turning the box to see what was inside.

Your eyes immediately welled up as you ran your fingers over the worn, mostly faded marker. ‘The Good Parts’ was all it said, but you remembered this box vividly. When you and William had originally moved in together you didn't bring much with you. You were in college at the time, sharing a shitty apartment with even shittier roommates, most of your furniture aside from your bed was made up of large plastic bins and wobbly rolling drawers. However, William was very surprised when he opened up one of your moving boxes. The good parts, as it had been so cryptically named, was a catchall of your entire relationship so far; polaroids of the two of you together, any small cheap pieces of jewelry he had bought for you while you were out shopping, ticket stubs to movies you had particularly liked, letters he had written you, all of it. A box that had only been added to throughout all these years. “It was tucked away in the closet, I know you would've been upset if we had forgotten it during the move.” He smiles softly at you. You pull him in for a soft kiss. Wiping at your eyes, you then reach out to open it with shaking fingers. William reaches in first, pulling out a pair of ticket stubs attached to a couple polaroids. One was of you and William standing in the driveway of your old apartment. Your arms wrapped around William’s waist, his lips pressed to the top of your head, you could barely make out the figure failing to jump out of frame in time as Henry. “One of our double dates with Henry and Sarah.” He chuckles. You smile as you pick up the second one. William held you close, he was dancing you around the empty parking lot. You were laughing in the photo, practically falling into him. William looked so happy, so in love with you. He still had that same look in his eyes when your attention moved back to him. He holds out the ticket stubs.

“We went to go see Children of the Corn.” You laugh as you readed over the faded print.

“You hated that movie!” He exclaims.

“I didn't hate the movie, I hated how freaky those kids were!” You explain, throwing your arms wide. “You can't tell me they weren't unsettling!” You tried arguing your point but William was already laughing. You playfully push his shoulder with a groan, both of you giggling like idiots as you put the items back. One picture in particular catches your eye. Your eyes were assaulted by the too bright splashes of yellows and purples. You and all your coworkers at Freddy’s dressed up for a sports day. You found yourself in the picture, a soft blush on your cheeks as you smiled bashfully at the camera, a very rigid William at your side. “This was like a week after we met.” You grin. “Look at you, you're so awkward.” You tease, making your body purposely cringe up. He laughs at your teasing, he would never deny that he definitely was not the smoothest when you had met.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders as you lean into his side, fingers running over the edge of the photograph. “Do you remember the day we met?” You perk up at the question, moving your hair out of the way to reveal a thin silver line near your temple.

“Of course I do, I still have the scar!” You respond in a chipper tone.

“That's not what I meant!” He manages to get out through a fit of laughter.

“I know, I’m just never going to let you live that down.” You wink at him, causing him to roll his eyes. “Of course I remember the day we met honey, I started to like you the first day I met you.” You place a kiss to his cheek. You had just recently started working at Freddy’s, and as far as college jobs, it wasn't the worst place you could be. Sure the carpet was always sticky and the kids were loud, but you got along well with your coworkers and there were parts of working at the pizzeria that actually were quite fun. You had even grown particularly fond of the giant animatronic animals that performed their concert every 20 minutes.

“Can you do me a favor?” Your coworker Rachel rushes up to you. “That table's food is going to be up any second but I need to pee so bad, would you be able to grab it for me?”

“Yeah of course!”

“Thanks girl, I owe you.” She smiles gratefully before hurrying off. Your eyes dart over to a girl as she lets out a shrill scream, seeing it was just because she had won a lot of tickets you continue to push through the kitchen door. You felt a sharp crack to your head as everything went black. When you woke up you were laying on the floor, a warm hand slipped into yours. Your head hurt but other than that you felt fine. You sat up with a groan, a strong arm immediately supporting your back.

“Easy, doll.” A low, gravelly voice says. “You got hit pretty hard.”

“What happened?” You ask quietly.

“She's okay everyone!” The voice speaks a little louder. There's a collective murmur of relief. He leans in closer to you and whispers, “I'm going to help you up, I need you to do me a favor and hide against the side of me. You got cut by some plastic, I don't want anyone seeing the blood and panicking.” You nodded, allowing him to help you up from the floor, leaning into his side in a way that hid your face. He led you from the room, the usual noise of the pizzeria gradually starting up behind you. He opens a door and leads you into a room before immediately breaking into an apology. “I am so sorry, I was looking at a ticket when I was coming out. Are you okay? I'm going to clean you up here and take you to the hospital to make sure you don't have a concussion-” you wave your arms in front of you, cutting him off.

“Wait, I have questions!” You exclaim, demanding his full attention. His eyes widened slightly, shocked by your firm tone. “I still don't know what happened, I walked through the door and I woke up on the floor. So how did I get knocked out?”

“I was carrying a tray, I looked down at the ticket to check the table number again and I didn't see you coming through the door.” He explains bashfully.

“So you whacked me in the head with a pizza tray?” You ask to clarify. He nods, unable to meet your eyes as his face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Okay, I'm not mad. Accidents happen.” Your voice softened, you could tell he was beating himself up over the situation. “I also don't know who you are, so what's your name?” You ask with a small laugh.

“Oh, that's right, you're one of the new employees. I'm sorry we had to meet like this.” He states with a chuckle. “I'm William Afton.” Your eyes widened as you realized this was Mr. Emily’s elusive business partner.

“Sir I'm so sorry, I had no idea.” You immediately rush to apologize. He waves you off as he digs around in a drawer for a first aid kit.

“Mr. Afton in front of customers, other than that call me William.” You couldn't help but notice the playful sparkle in his eyes as he glanced up at you. You can't help but blush as you looked away. You took a second to take in your surroundings. Tools lined the walls, a work bench covered in blue prints and notebooks, various animatronic parts scattered in various corners. ‘This must be his workshop's you thought to yourself. Your attention was immediately forced back onto him as he steps in front of you, his massive form blocking out the bulb that hung from the ceiling. “I got you pretty good, didn't I?” He grumbles. His gold wire framed glasses glinted in the light as he sets them on the top of his head. He started to reach out in order to maneuver your face to look at the wound better, pausing before his fingers brushed your jaw. “I, um… is it okay if I touch you? I just want to make sure I get you cleaned up.” You nod, tensing up as you feel his calloused fingers run over your cheek. “I'm so sorry about this.

“It's okay Mr. Afton, really.” You were having trouble forming a proper sentence. His skin was so warm. The way he held your face so delicately in his large hand, like you would break if he moved wrong.

“William.” He corrects you with a small smile.

“William.” You repeat back softly. His eyes meet yours, the sound of you saying his name putting him in almost a trance for a second.

“This is probably going to sting a little.” He gives you an apologetic look before dabbing on the disinfectant. You wince, subconsciously reaching up to hold onto his arm. He got you all cleaned up, carefully putting a bandage on your head before stepping back and returning his glasses to their proper place. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he gave you a lopsided smile. “You know I never got your name.”

“I was surprised you still talked to me after that.” You were snapped back to the present by the sound of your husband's voice floating to your ears.

“You had already beaten yourself up enough over it. Plus, seeing you all flustered and worried over me was really cute.” He pulls you into a kiss, you could still feel the smile on his lips, his mustache tickling your nose slightly. You set the picture back inside, closing up the top of the box and earning a curious look from William. “I wanna savor this… it's been a while since we looked in here.” You mutter softly, tracing a finger over the writing on the outside.

“Maybe we should unpack it with the rest of the stuff.” He gently squeezes your arm before his hand rubs over your back. “I don't know about you, but I think it would be nice to put all of this stuff out where we can see it.” You turn your head to face him, letting your forehead rest against his. “But I definitely agree we should make it last.” You could hear the playful tone in his voice. “Knowing you, you'd cry if we dug through this whole box today.” You lightly punched him in the arm, William faking a hurt expression, hissing slightly as he rubs a hand over the spot you hit. “Easy there, killer. You're going to rip my whole arm off.” He chuckles. He stands with a pained groan, his knees popping as he hoists himself up off the floor. “Come on, I think I know how we can make this a little more fun.”

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Tag List: @yellowbunnydreams @zoey5252 @redflowery @residentevilbeast @weirdoartist21 @loudchaosking (If I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!!)

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purrvaire · 9 months

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good omens season 2 + text posts I have on my phone (3/?)

1 / 2

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montygatorshusband · 9 months

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RUIN SPOILERS. RUIN SPOILERS. BE CAREFUL.

What the hell happened to my husband. Gregory what the FUCKING HELL DID YOU DO TO HIM. WHAT HAPPENED. WHY IS HE EVIL. GREGORY IM GOING TO KILL YOU.

Also IM AWARE HES A PROTOTYPE ITS A JOKE 💀

#My husband :<#What did you do gregory #glamrock freddy #fnaf ruin dlc #ruin spoilers #sb ruin #five nights at freddy's #fnaf ruin #security breach ruin #ruin dlc #fnaf dlc #fnaf dlc ruin #fnaf spoilers

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edsearring · 9 months

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just finished rewatching go2, and while of course there is a lot to be said for heavenly brainwashing and a general lack of proper communication, and while that is of course a huge part of it, i've barely seen anyone talking about just how little aziraphale actually wanted to go to heaven. almost all the way through the whole last bit.

when aziraphale is first approached by the metatron, he says that he's made his position perfectly clear. he knows where he stands, and so does everyone else. he stands with crowley, they're on their own side. but he decides to hear the metatron out, because what could he possibly say that would change his mind?

(i also think it's worth mentioning that the metatron opened with coffee. i don't personally believe in the coffee theory, but he may have started with that to show aziraphale that he's on 'his side.' he's not like the other angels, he's consumed things. he's gone against what angels expect.)

and at first, when the metatron gives his offer, aziraphale turns it down completely. he said it clearly, he doesn't want to go back to heaven. even as the metatron continues to detail all of these reasons why aziraphale should lead, aziraphale still looks pretty uncomfortable.

but the metatron can clearly see this isn't working, so he uses what he knows will always get aziraphale. crowley. he offers to restore him.

so aziraphale starts thinking. what if he accepts the offer? as so many other people have pointed out, there is no way aziraphale could have even come close to completely breaking out of the way he'd been taught to think for millions of years. so he thinks, well, heaven are the good ones. it would certainly be better if they were on the right side of things, wouldn't it? and crowley is a good person, he's seen it.

not to mention that crowley seemed so much happier when he was an angel. and to aziraphale, of course, it's because heaven are the good ones. crowley was so angry because he got lumped in with the bad ones. he just doesn't understand that maybe crowley was so angry because of the whole idea of a 'great plan', of the 'good ones' and 'bad ones' in the first place.

and finally, his decision was about safety. of course aziraphale wants to be with crowley. but they've been hiding from heaven and hell this whole time. if the metatron was being completely honest (which he obviously wasn't, that was a suspicious offer, but in aziraphale's situation he couldn't tell), they wouldn't have to hide, they could be together.

and so of course he rushes home to tell crowley, and of course crowley refuses, and has his big confession.

which, to be perfectly honest, i don't think was a horrible coincidence, or incredibly tragic timing. setting aside the fact that it just happened after the whole 'gabriel and beelzebub' incident, the metatron planned that.

he knew that crowley would refuse, because he never would accept an offer like that. and maybe he gathered that crowley would confess from the gabriel/beelzebub scene, maybe he overheard nina and maggie talking, it could have been anything.

the point is, it was the metatron's plan all along to have crowley refuse, confess, and storm out, leaving aziraphale heartbroken. that way he could come into the bookshop, hear it from aziraphale that crowley left.

because when crowley confessed, he did something that neither of them were used to. he said (at least a lot of) what he was actually feeling. and aziraphale has had millions of years of practice of denying exactly that, the instinct kicks in. he says "i forgive you". they both leave, heartbroken.

and at this point, when crowley is gone, and the metatron comes back in, what else is aziraphale going to do? he denies it. he does the very thing he refused in the first place, he goes to heaven, leaving everything behind, without crowley.

and only a few seconds afterwards, we can see that aziraphale regrets it. he starts trying to come up with excuses. he can't leave the bookshop—no, don't worry, muriel has that taken care of. do you need to take anything with you?—there isn't anything he can think of to get him out of this. he's run out of excuses.

and so it's too late. aziraphale is about to get into the elevator to heaven. but before he does that, he asks what the great plan that he'll be helping with is.

and the metatron says the second coming.

aziraphale knows he's been tricked, after this. if the second coming truly is the great plan, straight from the metatron, he can't 'fix heaven.' he can't improve anything if god's will is the second coming.

but what can he do? he gets in the elevator.

through the credits, we can see his shock, anger, and heartbreak so incredibly clearly. of course, until the smirk at the end.

that was the very moment when aziraphale made a plan to tear it all apart.

#this is a complete mess of like five different theories mixed together #this post brought to you by my computer autocorrecting 'aziraphale' to 'paleographers'#good omens spoilers #good omens #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens analysis #good omens thoughts #good omens meta

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chaotic-on-main · 6 days

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for some reason every time I go to reblog the final chapter with my notes, my tumblr crashes (I'm pretty sure it's because it's a 20k chapter, so fuck you tumblr a;sldjf) ANYWAYS I'M GONNA MAKE A SEPARATE POST

Here lie my notes for the final chapter of 5 Husbands by @kingkonoha MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW

SIGH. OKAY. HERE WE GO.

so first and foremost i'm super lazy. when i was reading, i was out in a park enjoying the sun and sounds of the river and NOT by internet so i wrote all of my notes in a word document. i'm not gonna repost them, instead i have screenshots of my notes. i did nOT go through there so there will be a lot of feral screaming, typos, and weird thoughts idk take them or leave them. underneathe these screenshots i will provide a more personal note <3

OKAY JUST-

SO. this story has been a huge part of my fanfic journey. tay has taught me so much with her writing and the fact that i got to help brainstorm a few monumental plot points with one of my favorite writers has just been. well it's been a blessing and i loved every moment of it. yes okay, i did give her the idea to kill levi and am i gonna throw myself off a cliff for it?? probably.

regardless, she did it is such a beautiful and heart wrenching way that it has TRULY changed me. my day is actually ruined and that's a good thing because that means she wrote something so heartbreaking SO WELL. the way she just brings us into this world and can make you think one thing then trip you up not oNCE BUT TWICE?? (THE FOREHEAD TAY REALLY?!?!)

SIGH

she ended this series with how she started, with love and exceitment. it's crazy to think there was a time that she was ready to put it down and while i 100% understood why and i definitely supported her for it, i'm so glad she changed her mind. i love this story so much and i cannot thank tay enough for writing something so incredibly different.

i will miss you the world of 5 husbands, but it's time to go back to UW because i need comfort AND I MISS WHEN LEVI WAS ALIVE BYE

#no one talk to me for 25 business days i need to lie down #sky rambles #bbytay.fics #bbytay.moots #five husbands #five husbands spoilers #levi ackerman #eren yeager #y/n #x reader #attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #jean kirschstein #reiner braun #connie springer #armin arlert

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honeybleed · 8 months

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me at the club w y/n, annie & mikasa when jean’s diss track come on @erensbaebee @kingkonoha

#five husbands spoilers #mikasa is chrissy she gon be like girl whats ur problem #ready to fight 😭😭😭

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samotraka · 4 months

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happy holidays! feel free to kiss your spouse indeks the mistletoe :))

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #christmas #its been five months #im still not over it #so i made this shitty edit #hope you like it #and have a nice time #and happy final fifteen #crowley is crying to last cristmas rn

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doonarose · 8 months

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The second one that’s quite rubbish.

(Good Omens Crowley/Aziraphale kissing and romance fic)

Rating: PG/T

Rationale: A follow up/companion piece to ‘The first one that’s right’ in which Aziraphale asks Crowley to try kissing again and it goes reasonably well. This is set post Season 3 when they are inevitably talking to each other properly, and acknowledging, out loud, that they love each other, and actually planning for a future together. But they haven’t quite got the kissing stuff figured out.

Summary: Aziraphale asks Crowley for a kiss, now that that’s a thing they are doing. It does not go to plan. Mostly fluff with a dash of angst, I guess.

Count: 2500ish

“Crowley,” Aziraphale calls, singsong for his attention from across the bookshop; Crowley looks up from where he’s been staring at the floor and grumbles something unintelligible in response. Aziraphale beams at him and fidgets, his hands restlessly clasping and unclasping in front of him. “May I please have a kiss?”

That’s entirely unexpected and exactly what Crowley’s been waiting for. It’s only the next day, just over twenty-four hours since their First Kiss (well technically their second kiss) but Crowley would have started climbing the walls if Aziraphale had made him wait much longer.

He must keep his cool, though, maintain an air of calm, not indifference, but controlled caring. More importantly, Crowley is determined not to rush things, and will instead allow Aziraphale to set the pace. “Of course,” he finally responds, flashing his suavest smile. “Happy to oblige.” He propels himself out of the armchair he’s been lazing in all morning, snags his jacket off the back of the chair, and shrugs his way into it.

He freezes, halfway across the room, because he has no idea why he just did that: he doesn’t need to put his jacket on before he kisses Aziraphale and now he knows that.

He’s overthinking this, caught frozen in the headlights, and he really wishes he had his sunglasses on so he could look away. Aziraphale looks confused, and then concerned, and the way the beaming, hopeful, expectant smile has slipped, replaced by a furrowed brow and pursed lips, makes it very clear that Crowley is definitely fucking his up.

He wills himself to keep walking, to get there, in front of Aziraphale, and kiss him. Go to him and kiss him. He screws his eyes tightly closed and thankfully, without Aziraphale in high sights, his legs start to function again. Eyes opening, he’s sure that was only a second or two of strange behaviour, and he goes to remove his sunglasses to get them back to normality. Except, they’re sunglasses he isn’t wearing and so then he has to cover the motion by scratching his fingers down both sides of his face, pulling his cheeks taut for absolutely no good reason.

He is an ancient and powerful demon and right now he is inexplicably acting like a buffoon. Aziraphale doesn’t look like he wants to kiss him anymore at all.

“Are you feeling quite alright?” Aziraphale asks as Crowley comes to a stop an arm’s length in front of him.

“’m fine, of course I’m fine.” A pause, he is clearly not fine. “I’m always fine.” Crowley grimaces nose scrunching up and his top lip curling back, and pushes on, “Let’s do this.”

Aziraphale looks as though he wants to argue but then thinks better of it and plasters an unconvincing smile in place.

“Right then.” Crowley doesn’t know what to do with his hands, or his feet. His mouth has gone unbelievable dry, and all that moisture seems to have somehow relocated to his palms – his palms never sweat. He can stop them sweating… except right now he can’t focus enough to even miracle that up and he knows Aziraphale would consider it some sort of cheating anyhow.

Illogically long seconds pass them by with Aziraphale trying to look optimistic and Crowley trying to remember how the dimensions of space and time intersect to allow for action.

“Crowley, I don’t think it’s meant to be this complicated.”

Crowley’s nostrils flare and he commands every molecule in his body to lean in. But Aziraphale pats him on the chest, hand over his heart in a placating gesture that inevitably also stops Crowley from leaning in at all.

“I think, perhaps, we try again another time,” Aziraphale tells him, a knowing head tilt and something that comes dangerously close to pity about his eyes.

Crowley pouts, he can’t stop himself. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’m ready now! I’m fine.”

Aziraphale shakes his head and slides his hand up Crowley’s chest to cradle his cheek, “Moment’s gone, I fear,” he says even as heat spreads beneath his touch.

Crowley has to bite down on the inside of his cheek to stop from pathetically nuzzling into Aziraphale’s palm. Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. He’s so sure he could lean into Aziraphale now, fit them together properly, if only Aziraphale would close the gap and let him.

“You were overthinking it,” Aziraphale concludes, his hand dropping as he steps back, the moment – which had never really started – now well and truly over.

“Well…” Crowley’s got nothing, “So were you,” he finishes lamely. In reality he has absolutely no idea: Aziraphale seems fine, Crowley’s the barely functioning demonic disaster with all the motor functions and finesse of a startled cat on roller-skates.

Tugging down on his waistcoat to straighten non-existent rumpling, Aziraphale tells him, “Not to worry, perhaps we can try again later.” Then he manages a soft smile, turns on his heel and disappears into the back room.

Crowley, left to his own devices, mouths around the problem in that statement, ‘Perhaps’ and finds no reassurance as he stares up at the ceiling. Ultimately, and very likely still within earshot of Aziraphale, Crowley chooses to let out his frustration with an overly loud growl and a snarl of “You fucking idiot!”

***

It’s a half hour later and Crowley is moping around the bookshop, only barely stopping himself from using an index finger to drag random books from their positions just so he can watch them fall to the floor. Aziraphale is only a few bookshelves away, making more noise than necessary as he dusts ineffectively and, Crowley is sure of it, keeps a watchful eye on him.

He hears Aziraphale sigh and braces for whatever bad news is coming. “Crowley, can you give me a hand with these shelves, my love?” It’s still a relatively new term of endearment between them, one that makes Crowley’s chest swell for a few moments before he feels it start to cave in again.

He grumbles unintelligible, begrudging consent and saunters as slowly as he dares over to Aziraphale.

“I can’t quite reach those top ones up there,” he explains, brandishing his yellow feather duster towards the highest books and passing it off to Crowley before he can think to point out he’s too dignified and demonic to play the French maid. “Thank you my dear.”

As soon as Crowley’s occupied, stretching upwards and his heels lifting off the ground to extend his reach, Aziraphale is on him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and yanking him back down.

Crowley doesn’t have time to process, let alone protest, his mouth meeting Aziraphale’s too quickly with no finesse and no angle – again, just pretty rubbish all around. Aziraphale’s lips immediately set to work against Crowley’s mouth, wriggling in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant but also isn’t at all right. And then Aziraphale opens his mouth and his tongue’s on Crowley’s lips, forcefully hot and wet and probing as it slides, unexpected, into his mouth.

The push of both of them together makes their top teeth clack in a way that reverberates back through Crowley’s jaw and up through the cartilage of his nose, stinging in a way that would have made his eyes water if he didn’t command them not to. It’s gone just as badly for Aziraphale based on his yelp and quick retreat.

Aziraphale looks downright traumatized, eyes wide in shock and hurt. “I’m so sorry, Crowley!”

“Shut up,” it’s instinctive and entirely lacks venom, a placeholder in their conversations about as effective as ‘um’. Crowley takes a moment, drawing in breath and running his tongue over his top teeth to sure they’re all still intact. “We have got to get better at this,” Crowley tells him with a hiss.

Aziraphale sighs and has the cheek to reach out to play with the ends of Crowley’s thin silver scarf. “I know.”

Crowley huffs, watching Aziraphale’s hands instead of his eyes. “No, Aziraphale,” he bites out, frustrated. “You don’t know. We have got to talk, properly, about this, and figure it out.” He really doesn’t want to talk, not about this, not about any of it, but so far, talking has been good for them, he can’t deny that.

Aziraphale has wrapped the scarf around his index finger in three tight loops and doesn’t seem to be listening. “I know, I know,” he agrees, too readily. “I don’t know why we aren’t working. But based on my reading it really isn’t something humans talk about, it seems to come very naturally in all my books, even the non-fiction, I’ve checked. Humans just fall into each other’s embrace and it works.”

“We aren’t humans,” Crowley states.

“But we are doing very human things.” Aziraphale finally looks up at him but doesn’t release the scarf until Crowley pulls his hand loose and drops in back so they’re no longer touching.

Crowley takes a deep breath and then dives in, cards on the table, that’s how they’ve agreed to communicate. “First of all, tell me that yesterday, that that was okay, are we at least on the same page there?”

Aziraphale blinks. “The kiss?” Crowley nods. “Oh, that was more than okay! If you mean the second attempt, that was entirely lovely, the first was a bit –”

Crowley cuts him off. “Because – I need to tell you this. I know you said that we could just try kissing and if we didn’t like it we could stop. And I went along with it but I knew – I knew…” he stutters to a stop. This whole talking thing, he hates how it makes him vulnerable and alone in whatever it is he is saying. No matter how many times he’s had to confess like this, he hates how admitting these things to Aziraphale always feels fraught and destined for rejection. They’ve managed to talk through just how much they love each other and that not saying it out loud for a very long time never actually meant that they weren’t in love all along. And that actually, yes, they both very much want to spend eternity, or something quite like it, together; that they plan to.

Crowley forces himself to continue. “I can’t go backwards with you,” he confesses. “It took us thousands of years to start working together, and then thousands more to come to an agreement, and thousands again just to become friends. And then after Armageddon, you started touching me and every single time, every single time I wondered what I would do if you stopped. That stupid thought haunted me, and I don’t think you know that.”

“I didn’t.”

Crowley lets out something like a self-deprecating laugh and his hand grips tight around the feather duster still dangling beside him. “And every time I’ve had to walk away from you…” he trails off and his chin drops to his chest. “My point is,” he says matter-of-factly. “I am terrified of losing you. But even worse than that, I am terrified of being the one to push you away. Even if it’s something as stupid as kissing – but especially if it’s something as stupid as kissing! Can you imagine me losing you all because I can’t figure out how to gets our mouths to line up properly?”

“No, Crowley, I can’t,” Aziraphale interjects but Crowley barely hears him.

“Although of course, I could learn to live with you in any shape or manner if I needed to. You could reincorporate into a rooster, or a… a book, and I’d still be happier taking care of you than not but you can’t tell me you love me and kiss me and then take it all back just because I’m shit at it. I’d be devastated. I… it’s important you know that,” he finishes quietly, not entirely sure it that was a bit too honest.

Aziraphale gives him a smile that’s beatifically reassuring. “That’s all extremely sweet of you, Crowley.”

“I was not being sweet,” Crowley tries and he means he was being serious.

“And very romantic,” Aziraphale confides conspiratorially. “But you must know I’m not going to leave you.”

Crowley is stuck on the first half of that. “Romantic?” he asks, like he’s trying the word on.

“Well, yes, my dear, it is, you are.” He grabs a hold of Crowley’s free hand, squeezing it. “I mean, we love each other and live with each other and now there’s kissing. That’s all quite romantic. And I certainly want there to be kissing, even if sometimes it’s quite… bad.” Aziraphale leans forward and gives Crowley the briefest, most chaste kiss possible.

It’s wonderful and Crowley’s lips curl up into a sweet smile despite himself before it drops away. “I don’t know you’re not going to leave. And you don’t know I’m not going to push you away.”

“I won’t let you.” Aziraphale sounds extremely confident, but Crowley’s not yet convinced. “And the kissing we will work on, here –” Aziraphale cuts himself off as he leans in again and presses another too-soft, over too-soon kiss to Crowley’s lips. “Better, yes?” Another, longer and more pressure as they linger close, stepping and leaning into each other as they start to map the feel of chins and noses and eyelashes catching at each other’s skin.

Crowley can’t help but sigh his appreciation and wonder at how almost identical physical interactions can feel so extraordinarily different. This kissing really is a bit of a mystery. Aziraphale starts to smile against his lips, seemingly in response to Crowley’s happy sigh.

They break apart and Aziraphale says, “Thank you for telling me. And I promise to tell you if I’m having any of my own thoughts about the kissing, so you’ll know if I’m in any doubt.” He pauses, gaze sweeping down to his hands, once again tangled in Crowley’s scarf. “I don’t think I will be, however.” He pauses, toying with the material. ”Also, very good of you to let me know the stuff about touching you.”

His eyes lock with Crowley’s, playful and teasing and then he very deliberately, very slowly, drags the back of his knuckles down Crowley’s chest, from the centre of his sternum all the way to his belly button, tugging on the scarf in the process.

Crowley’s eyes go wide and his head tilts to the side with a thousand new questions, but Aziraphale cuts him off as he uses to scarf to tug him in and kiss him once more for good measure before releasing him and reclaiming his feather duster from where it’s still grasped tightly in Crowley’s hand. “Very good to know, indeed” the angel muses.

A/N: I’ve posted this in a bit of a rush so apologies for the typos, etc. I just had to get it out there because I am loving writing these two very, very much. And the next bit after this, the one after they’ve gotten a bit better at casual little kisses in the bookshop and they get caught in a rainstorm, is too delicious to not be writing right away!

#good omens 2 spoilers #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #doonas fic #look i did another one #again it's five times as long as it should be #i would feel bad for crowley if he wasnt such a dumbass

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the-apology-dance · 7 months

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“Sense and Sensibility”

Aziraphale had spent hours painting petals of various colors, shapes, and sizes. In Heaven, he simply was given the duty to follow God’s orders and to obey commands that were in order with the Great Plan.

The more he stayed in line, the less he got reprimanded.

It wasn’t incredibly difficult and Aziraphale rather enjoyed the duties he had been assigned, it wasn’t too hard or stressful on the Angel. In fact, it was rather calming.

He had chosen to take his break, sighing heavily. Apparently he was not the only Angel who had chosen to do so. He could see Micheal, Uriel, and Sandalphon all standing together talking about something he was too far away to understand. Not that he particularly cared. Closing his eyes, he stretched his wings out. They had been folded closely against his back and were starting to become sore from lack of movement. He flinched slightly when a familiar voice came from behind him.

“Aziraphale!” Opening his eyes, he was met with an Angel who had bright red curly hair and a smile that could light up the already blinding light of Heaven.

“Raphael. You do know that there are other higher ranking angels you could be spending time with?” Rolling his eyes, Raphael’s wings fluttered and he shrugged.

“Yeah, but they are no fun. They may have fancy titles and all but they seem to be lacking in every other department.” Aziraphale examined the Angel, who had stardust on his white robes, and in his curly red strands of hair. He had clearly forgotten to dust himself off. Raphael tilted his head slightly, causing stardust to fall from his curls.

Like a mini meteor shower.

Aziraphale let out a noise he had never heard before. Interesting. Raphael looked at him curiously. Aziraphale knew The Almighty had created emotions, and he supposed that was what caused the reaction of “joy”. What they had called “laughter”.

“What was that noise you made?” Aziraphale looked around at the other angels, nervously wringing his hands. This was something they created for the humans, not for the Angels. Raphael seemed to get the message and brought Aziraphale out to where he could normally be found creating stars. It was a lot more private than where they had been previously.

“Okay. That was what The Almighty calls emotion. That was a laugh. It happens when you find something amusing. It usually is associated with a feeling of happiness.” Raphael seemed to be fascinated by it all.

“Oh. So an emotional response?” Aziraphale nodded. He was already telling this Angel most of the information he knew about the new creation. He may as well continue.

“There is that and a thing called senses. It helps humans experience and understand the world around them better.” Raphael seemed to light up, Aziraphale felt his face heat up and a tightness in his chest form, like someone had wrapped his heart in cellophane.

“Can you show me them?” Aziraphale nodded. Angels were also God’s creations so it seemed fair. Aziraphale gently grabbed Raphael’s wrist and lifted up his hand. He let his fingertips brush against his palm. He gasped and watched Aziraphale’s hand curiously.

“That’s touch. I’m touching your hand.” Raphael nodded. Aziraphale watched curiously as Raphael trailed a finger down Aziraphale’s wrist.

“You’re warm.” Aziraphale nodded. He watched on as Raphael traced the lines on his palm.

“Touch also can be used to show affection. Affection is fondness between people.” Raphael watched closely as Aziraphale moved closer. He slowly looped his arms around Raphael’s torso and let his chin rest on his shoulder. Raphael mimicked Aziraphale’s movements, and closed his eyes as his head fell down on his shoulder.

“This is a hug.” Raphael smiled softly as he felt the soft fabric of Aziraphale’s robe brush against his cheek. He seemed to feel everything about his being relaxed and calmed down slowly.

“I like touch.” Aziraphale went to pull back, but was prevented from doing so as Raphael tightened his grip. He whispered near Aziraphale’s ear, voice quiet.

“Don’t pull away. Not yet.” Aziraphale nodded, simply sitting there in the other Angel’s arms until he pulled away from him gently. Raphael seemed to be calmer than before.

Aziraphale snapped next to Raphael’s ear, teaching him about sound and hearing. The next few minutes were filled with Raphael trying to learn how to snap. Aziraphale smiling ear to ear. Eventually, he managed a small snap, his mouth forming an “o” shape.

“What else can you do with touch?” This could be a mistake. He didn’t quite understand how it worked yet. Aziraphale leaned forward and let his lips press against Raphael’s. It was clumsy and by far not the best a being could do, but it was enough to send a shock through both Aziraphale and Raphael. His eyes widened and Aziraphale pulled away, wringing his hands quickly as his nerves got the better of him. Touching his lips gently, Raphael smiled, Aziraphale’s nerves easing a bit.

“I liked that….” Aziraphale smiled and once again made the sound from earlier. A laugh. Raphael joined in this time, both Angels finding themselves in a laughing fit. A white wing was brought over Aziraphale’s head as a meteor shower began.

This was a secret that they were willing to keep. If it meant they could keep the other by their side. Another feeling filled his chest soon after Raphael began pointing out shooting stars. Aziraphale was truly fascinated by the curly red haired Angel.

He would later on learn the word for that.

Love.

#good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #crowley was raphael #ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens oneshot #i’m not okay #i’m coping #fanfiction #enjoy my brainrot #my writing #Heaven #five senses #creation of humans #I’m on thin ice currently #tooth rotting fluff #fyp

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ruh--roh-raggy · 5 months

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Home Sweet Home (William Afton x Wife! Reader) - Part 3

Hello hello! Welcome to part 3 of Home Sweet Home! Today we get a very special flashback into Reader and William's past. This one is tooth rottingly sweet so I hope you're prepared hehe. As always thank all of you so much for reading, if you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: Reader gets grabbed by the wrist by the guy who she was supposed to go on a date with, some swearing, other than that just the fluffiest of fluff

You can find my Masterlist here!

Word count: 2,673

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4

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“I'm going to go grab some more things from the other room!” William exclaims over the pounding music. He had said he thought of a way to make unpacking more fun, but you never expected this. William had this old stereo system that since you had gotten together lived in a corner in his garage. You would always fuss over it, trying to get him to take it out. “The mice have probably chewed a bunch of the wires in it, it would be more of a hassle to fix than it’s worth.” He'd explain. “I'll probably just buy a new one if we ever decide we need it, bunny.” So, when he pushed a large blanket covered object into your room you were definitely a little confused. You shot him a curious look when he revealed that it was the sound system you had been begging him to pull out for ages. “She's good as new, ready for my pretty girl to listen to music whenever she wants!” He says proudly, patting the top. The system worked like a dream, even though it was a bit outdated. You flipped through records before finally deciding on what you wanted to listen to, your husband chuckling as the music blared and you began to dance around the room. The little distracting from your mundane activity helped you work a little faster, and before you knew it your bedroom was mostly finished. William re entered the room with the final few boxes that needed to be put away, setting them in the corner as he watched you twirled around the floor. He loved how his heart still raced whenever he looked at you, the steady thrumming in his chest bringing a smile to his face. He strides forward with the same shaky confidence he had when you first had gotten together. You paused as you noticed him approach, looking at him with those same bright eyes that always managed to make his breath catch in his throat. He gives you a slight bow, the soft static of the record trying to fill in the silence between songs. He holds out his hand to you, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you smile.

“Would you like to dance bunny?” The pure adoration that dripped from his voice threatened to make you tear up, and for just a moment a slightly younger version of you had flashed before his eyes. You had looked so pretty the first time he had asked you to dance with him, but he couldn't argue that the sight before him was even more beautiful. Your hair a complete mess from working all day, your baggy cleaning clothes seemed to hang perfectly off of your frame. He never stopped loving a single thing about you. But, your first dance together would always hold a special place in both your hearts.

“He’s taking me out dancing.” You squeal along with your co-worker, talking about the date you had planned later.

“Dancing, huh?” You jump slightly as a voice suddenly chimes in behind you. You noticed your coworker straighten up as her eyes landed on the man behind you. You turned to find Mr. Afton, a smirk on his lips, you could feel the anger swimming in his eyes. “Didn’t know guys your age still did that sort of thing.” As soon as it was there it was gone, his eyes softening as his smirk turned into his usual charming, lopsided smile. You felt your heartbeat quicken at the sight of it.

“Well, I told him I always wanted someone to take me dancing.” You admit bashfully, feeling a bit silly for admitting such a childish, romantic fantasy.

“A beautiful young woman like yourself deserves someone who takes them out.” He responds as his gaze flickers over your face. “Although, I wouldn’t get your hopes up, he might not be the right man for the job.” He adds with a slight tilt of his head, his eyes flash away from you before he clears his throat. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go, uh… elsewhere.” He nods politely before hurrying off. You exchange a look with your coworker.

“What in the Faz-Fuck was that all about?” You both break out into a fit of giggles at the “workplace appropriate” swear word before you just shrugged.

You stood outside of Freddy’s, you and your date agreeing to meet there because you didn’t want to give him your address. You watched car after car pass by but none of them ever turned into the lot. You checked your watch, it was about an hour after the time he was supposed to pick you up. You wrapped your jacket tighter around you, your teeth beginning to chatter as you waited in the night. You jumped as the door next to you suddenly pushed open. William stepped outside with his keys in hand, a tight black sweatshirt over his work shirt accentuated his broad shoulders. He glanced over at you, briefly turning back to the lock before his brow furrowed in confusion and his eyes snapped back to you. “You’re still here?” He straightens up, taking a few steps closer to you. Your eyes slowly trailed upwards in order to meet his as he walked forward. “I saw your car pull in an hour ago, is everything alright?”

“He was supposed to meet me here. I,uh, I think he might’ve stood me up.” Your throat grew tight as shame washed over your body. You couldn’t have felt more pathetic if you tried. A young eager girl with hearts in her eyes as she excitedly talked about her date all day just to get stood up.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Your skin buzzed where his hand rested on your shoulder. “If he stood you up he’s a Faz-Fucking idiot.” He manages to get a small laugh out of you, making him smile softly. Before you had a chance to respond, a beat up car that’s front bumper was held on by duct tape came screeching to a halt in front of the restaurant. Your date's head pops out of the window.

“Get in.” He commands before disappearing back inside the car. You noticed William bite at the inside of his cheek.

“Bit rude to not open the door for her, isn't it, chief?” William calls in an antagonizing tone. You could tell how he tensed up before his hand fell away from your shoulder that he intended to teach this guy a lesson. The driver's side door flew open as your date climbed out.

“You got a problem, old man?” William cocks an eyebrow at his insult.

“I may be old you little punk,” he spits, “but I know that’s absolutely no way to treat a woman.” His voice was dangerously calm, not a single waiver of emotion in his tone.

“Oh be fucking forreal,” he rolls his eyes, “you’re just pissed that you can’t flirt with someone half your age, pervert.” He barged forward, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you in the direction of his car. Your eyes dart to William, the only thing that would make you feel safe in your moment of fear. You caught the sight of a snarl forming on his face.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” William growls, rushing up on him. He immediately dropped your wrist, stumbling backwards and falling straight onto his ass. William steps in front of you, half blocking your body with his towering form. “You were an hour late to pick her up, you’ve been acting like a jackass since you pulled up, and on top of that you’re grabbing her like she’s some piece of meat.” His voice boomed across the empty lot. His fists shook by his side, his shoulders heaving with his heavy breaths as he filled with rage. William points at the guy's car. “You better get the fuck off of this property, and if I ever see you around here again or see you anywhere near her, I will personally introduce that moronic face of yours to the fucking concrete. Do I make myself clear?” He scrambled for his car, peeling out of the lot before his door was even fully closed. The moment his car was out of sight his attention immediately shifted to you, ready to swoop in and save the day when you needed him most. “Are you okay? How’s your wrist?”

“William, I’m so sorry.” Your voice shook as you fought back the tears that welled up in your eyes.

“Oh, rabbit,” he coos at you, taking your hands in his, “you don’t have anything to apologize for. That guy was a jackass.” He places a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. “He doesn’t deserve someone like you.” He brushes some stray hair from your cheek, his soft smile making your heart flutter. His thumb rubs languidly over your knuckles, “come inside for a bit, you’re frozen.” He opens up the door for you, motioning for you to head in before him. “Unlike that scumbag I plan on holding the door.” He winks at you, causing you to flush slightly. You reluctantly let your hand slip from his as you stepped inside, his calloused fingers warm against your much smaller, more delicate ones. He took your coat, hanging it up on the side of a booth you slid into. “I’m going to go make some coffee, even if you don’t drink it just hold it. Your hands are like ice.” You nod, watching as he disappears into the kitchen. You trace along the cracks in the old linoleum table, mentally berating yourself over how stupid you were. “Here you go, sweetheart.” You can’t help but smile when you’re met with the sight of his lopsided grin.

“Thank you.” You respond softly. He studies you, trying to gauge what you need from him at the moment. “I’m really embarrassed.” You admit with a dry chuckle. “Here I am getting myself all worked up for this date…” your voice cracks as the need to cry wells up in your throat. You try your best to clear it, not wanting to appear as weak as you felt in front of him. “It was stupid anyways.” You shrug, trying your best to force a smile despite the fact you felt a tear slowly rolling down your cheek.

“Honey, it’s not stupid for you to want someone to treat you the way you deserve.” He reaches out, cupping your cheek and wiping at the wet trail. He stood, holding out his hand to you, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. “If it’s alright with you I’d like to give you that dance you were looking forward to.” You reached out for him, your fingers shaking with anticipation. He guided you gently from the booth, a stark contrast from how roughly you were grabbed before. He motioned for you to wait a moment, heading next to the stage to kick a jukebox to life. Instead of the usual stage show songs you were used to he had flipped to something a bit slower, more romantic. He spins you around before his arm slides around your waist, giving your hand a gentle squeeze as he gazes down at you.

“Is this a bad time to admit I’ve never really danced before?” You ask with a nervous giggle. William breathes out a laugh, shaking his head.

“I’ll go slow, just let my body lead yours.” You flush as you feel the heat radiating off of his strong chest as he pulls you in closer. It felt effortless as he moved you across the floor, your steps quickly being able to fall into time with his. Before you knew it he was waltzing you around the open space. He spun you around a few times before expertly pulling you back into his embrace. Your heart raced, you could feel it all the way in the tips of your fingers. His striking silver eyes remained locked on yours as he moved you in a way he knew that little douchebag never would have been able to pull off, it made him well up with a sense of pride. Before him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life, and she was captivated by him and him alone. The smile that spread across your face as he dipped you low with the conclusion of the song was enough to have a shiver run up his spine. “For someone who’s never danced before you did amazing.” He winks.

“I think it’s because I had such a good partner.” You mumble shyly, heat rising in your cheeks as you feel his thumb run across your waist. His eyes flash down to your lips, swallowing thickly before letting his gaze slowly trace up to meet yours again. “William, I, um…” you trail off as anxiety creeps forward in your mind. He was just being nice to you, that’s all this was.

“What is it, rabbit?” His voice comes out low and gravelly, words dripping with need like honey off of his tongue.

“That was really nice.” Your eyes dropped to the floor as you tried to push the thought of how badly you wanted to feel his lips on yours. “This is definitely better than the night I would've been having with that asshole.”

“I know I keep saying this but he doesn't deserve someone like you.” He brushes some hair from your face before holding both of your hands in his. “He wouldn't notice how your eyes light up when you talk about something you're passionate about or how adorable you look when you're flustered. He doesn’t know what your favorite color is or your favorite pizza toppings or your favorite movie.” Your eyes widened slightly as you realized that he was listing off things he had proven he knew about you in the past. “You are beautiful and so unbelievably kind and if I wasn’t such a damn coward I would’ve done this sooner.” His hand drops yours, moving to cup your face as he presses into you. A broken whimper escapes your lips as your hands fist into the soft material of his sweatshirt. The hand that still rested on your hip slid around your waist as he pressed you flush against him, lifting you up onto the tips of your toes to make it easier to kiss you. You gasped as he pulled back from you, both of you staring at one another wide eyed and breathless.

“Can I take you out on a date sometime?” The question fell from his mouth hurriedly, as if he was afraid if he didn’t ask it then he would never be able to say it.

“Yes.” Your answer was immediate, giving him a firm nod. Your face felt hot and damp, the remnant of the tears you hadn’t realized you let flow freely stained your cheeks. William breathes out a relieved and almost triumphant chuckle before he pulls you back into him, your mind getting lost in the taste of the bitter coffee and his own undeniable sweetness as it dances across your tongue.

William smiles at the sight before him, he would never get tired of the way his beautiful wife looked at him so lovingly. Your hand slipped into his, allowing him to spin you around the floor, your laughter blending melodically with the music. He pulls you into his arms, mimicking the steps he first taught you all those years ago. You had become a lot better over time, William loved to dance with you rather frequently. Your once clumsy movements now seemed as natural to you as walking. You laughed loudly as he dropped you into a low dip, your vision fully getting flipped upside down. You caught the sight of a red pick up truck pulling up your driveway. William pulls you upright. “Looks like we got some company.” He says with a wink.

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