Good Omens Oneshots

Overworked [Aziraphale X Reader]

You had sped through your home. By the time you had made it to your bedroom, your shirt was already off and you were hopping around to get your pants removed. You grabbed a nicer set of clothes, threw them on, and then darted out. A moment later, you ran back in and grabbed your laptop and its charger.

Running around like a chicken with its head off was becoming the norm. You'd go from working your paid job Then, to a nonprofit committee board meeting. Next, you'd try and fit a meal in. You'd then go to a meeting for a political organization you were with. And then, hopefully, you'd have enough time to work on art commissions you received. After you'd get ready for bed, you'd sit on your laptop and schedule social media posts for a different position you held within the nonprofit.

There were days where you'd be lucky to eat two meals. Sometimes, you'd have to try and snack on your way from one meeting to another. It would leave you to near tears from the low blood sugar.

There were times that it'd all be worth it. You loved the praise you'd receive from completing everything promptly. You'd laugh it off saying it was due to your anxiety. That, of course, wasn't exactly a lie. Even if you were exhausted, your anxiety would scream at you to finish everything as soon as possible. You'd also go above and beyond on tasks because you were worried that it wasn't good enough.

But no matter how much praise you'd earn, your body was growing weak from the overexertion. You felt yourself feeling more sluggish than usual. Aggravated thoughts passed through your mind. Whenever one would pop up, you'd bite your tongue to keep yourself from voicing them. Instead, you pretended "Shit!" you cried when you looked at the time on your phone. The meeting you were at had gone later than you had been promised it would. You sprinted down the streets, muttering sorry and excuse me to people you got too close to.

You stuttered to a stop at the zebra crossing. The pitter-patter of your foot thumping on the sidewalk sounded amongst the bustling cars. The seconds ticked away in your head while waiting for the okay to cross the street. Once the sign lit up, you began your sprint again.

You opened the door slowly and leaned against it while gasping for air. Heat seemed to engulf you, but the air-conditioning in the shop helped cool you off. The door shut gently behind you as you stumbled in. You coughed into your arm to help clear your lungs.

"There you are, [Y/N]! I was getting worried," Aziraphale spoke and greeted you at the front.

"I'm sorry I'm late!" you said with your head bowed.

"Nonsense," Aziraphale chuckled. "You're actually just in time! I was worried because you weren't twenty minutes early is all."

"Oh," you cleared your throat. "Sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," Aziraphale lightly chided. He walked over to you and took your bag. "Are you alright, dear?"

"Fine, just ran here. I'm a bit winded."

"Well, why don't you have a seat," Aziraphale said and led you over to a clear chair. As you walked, you noticed that there weren't any customers in the shop. You didn't get to see if the shop was opened. Probably not, it never was. "Now, how was your day?"

"Busy," you said with a tired smile. "Oh, thank you." Aziraphale had handed you a glass of water. After taking a large gulp, you continued speaking, "Work, two meetings, and then an emergency meeting."

Aziraphale frowned as he watched you. You swayed slightly where you were sitting. Though, the water that you had already downed seemed to help slightly.

"May I ask if you've eaten or drinking anything today?"

You looked over at Aziraphale and thought for a moment. A sheepish smile began to form on your face. "Uh, I ate a slice of toast this morning."

"[Y/N]! That isn't good! You need to be taking care of yourself," Aziraphale scolded. He took your glass of water and refilled it. "Here, drink up, dear."

"I know I should be taking care of myself, but," you trailed off. "There's just so much that needs to be done."

"What do you mean?"

You frowned and took a sip of water. "There's so much that needs to be fixed in this world...let alone London," you said quietly. "There are people that are suffering because things aren't getting done."

"Oh, [Y/N]," Aziraphale sighed. He walked over to you and sat next to you. He placed a gentle hand on your leg and gave it a friendly pat. "You do realize that all of this doesn't fall on you, right?"

"But if I don't do it, who will?" you cried. "It wasn't getting done before I got involved!"

Aziraphale nodded. He understood what you were saying. It would take more than a miracle to fix all that was going wrong in this world. Slowly, Aziraphale pulled you in for a side hug. "But if something happens to you or if you're not at full health, then that would only hurt things from getting done. And it still doesn't all fall to you. It is okay to be selfish every now and then."

You nodded and leaned into his embrace. "You're such an angel, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale chuckled at the irony and his cheeks lit up a light pink. "As are you, my dear."