fuck please write that fic of mercy talking in her sleep that would be amazing! but you gotta have pharah's reactions from the first time it happens all the wtfs, to the times where it's happened so often she's just 'sure babe' so used to it "this is MY yoghurt satan" 'you tell him'
okay i did it. inspired by you, anon, and this post
Fareeha cracked an eye open in the darkness, unsure of what had woken her up.
She felt a pressure on her back, and quickly realized Angela had curled up around her from the side. This new arrangement toed the line between comfortable spooning and sardine impersonation.
“Mmm,” Angela mumbled. “You have a sexy butt.”
She was awake? “There are probably better times to tell me that, but I’m glad you like it,” Fareeha said.
Fareeha stifled a laugh. Angela must have fallen asleep again.
Fareeha shuffled a bit and got comfortable—she was nearly asleep again when Angela muttered, “I’ll give you healing if you give me better chocolate.”
Was she…? “You’re awake?” Fareeha asked.
Angela clutched Fareeha tighter. “My pants are telling me lies,” she said urgently.
Fareeha blinked, mildly concerned, but mostly confused. Angela had never talked in her sleep before. “You’re not wearing pants, honey,” Fareeha said.
Seemingly mollified, Angela loosened her grip on Fareeha, mumbling softly in what sounded vaguely German. Her concluding sentence was the sole one in English: “Pants are an illusion, and so is death.”
That was when Fareeha started to find this all very amusing. She managed to contain her laughter in her pillow.
Angela was quiet for a moment, and then stated, suddenly, “That’s my yogurt, Satan.”
Fareeha laughed, now unable to contain her amusement if she tried. “You tell him, babe,” she said. After hearing rustling from Angela’s side, Fareeha tried to quiet down.
“What’s going on?” Angela asked, sounding much more like her usual conscious self, and Fareeha winced. Angela had always been a light sleeper.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Fareeha said, turning to face Angela. “You… do you know you were talking in your sleep?”
“What?” Angela looked bewildered. “I had no idea.”
“It was pretty funny, actually.”
“Oh, god. What did I say?”
Grinning, Fareeha pulled Angela close, and then, in a decent impersonation of her accent, said, “You have a sexy butt.”
“Noo,” Angela groaned. “I didn’t say that.”
“You did,” Fareeha said, laughing, and Angela hid her face in the pillow. “No need to be so embarrassed. I mean, you’ve said dirtier things to me while awake—“
“It also looks like Satan tried to steal your yogurt.”
“That bitch,” Angela said incredulously, smiling at her girlfriend who had already dissolved into laughter.
“I’ll fight him for you,” Fareeha said.
“Oh, lord. Please don’t. I can only imagine the injuries you’d get from that.”
“The yogurt thief must be brought to justice.”
Angela just laughed, tucking her head under Fareeha’s arm. “I admire your dedication.”
“Justice never sleeps,” Fareeha said.
“Yeah, well,” Angela hummed, yawning, “Mercy does.”
Fareeha breathed out a laugh. “Good night.”
“Love you,” Angela murmured before she fell asleep.
Not ten minutes later, Angela stated clearly:
It was going to be a long night.
turnnoffyourmind
titsay
discoholicmusic
dailybridgerton
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