lady-divine-writes

[lady-divine-writes]

Kurtbastian one-shot "Data Dump" (Rated T)

Summary:

Sebastian was raised to throw money at his problems. But Kurt wants more effort than that from his boyfriend. Sebastian finds a way to solve this problem in an unlikely place - TikTok.

Notes:

I started writing this back in 2021, which is when the TikTok trend mentioned was happening. Then I disappeared for four years XD But I love this and have always wanted to finish it. (3,464 words)

Read on AO3.

Kurt's phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it.

Vehemently ignores it.

He doesn't need to check it.

He knows who it is.

He knows what the messages, piling up like the snow outside on the sidewalk, say.

Sebastian has been blowing up his phone for the past half hour, which is obnoxious as hell since they are sitting roughly thirty feet apart with only a door between them.

Kurt's phone buzzes again. And again. And again. He considers silencing it. Admittedly, turning it off would be better. But he's working from home today, so he needs to be available in case Isabelle wants to get a hold of him. Sebastian knows this. It's a loophole that he is exploiting.

Because Sebastian loves loopholes.

Of course, it's 3:17, and Isabelle leaves the office around four. Maybe Kurt could get away with it. As long as no fashion lines drop unexpectedly, or there aren't any "What color is this dress?" controversies brewing.

The bedroom door flies open, and Sebastian's head pops out.

“Kurt! Dammit! Look at your phone!”

“We're in the same apartment! If you want to talk, come out here and talk!”

"No! I need you to look at your phone!"

"Why?"

"Because I'm trying to apologize!"

"Then come out here and apologize!"

"But...but..." Sebastian sputters, "That'll negate the apology I sent you! And I put effort into it! Remember effort? The thing you say I don't give enough of because I solve everything with my wallet?"

Kurt's burgeoning tirade stops short, leaving him mouth agape. He does say that. Quite a lot, actually, where their relationship is concerned. But that's because, for the past few years, it's been true. Sebastian forgets an anniversary? A blue box from Tiffany's shows up on Kurt's desk. They get into a fight, and Sebastian says something heinous? A new McQueen scarf gets added to Kurt's collection. Sebastian discovers at the last minute that he has a dinner meeting scheduled for the one night Kurt's friends are coming to town for drinks? A new pair of Jimmy Choos magically appears on the passenger seat of Kurt's SUV. And whereas Kurt isn't opposed to material displays of affection, the one thing all these lack is Sebastian himself.

"Fair," Kurt admits. "But why do I need to look at my phone?"

"It's sort of a multi-media event."

"Multi-media event?" Kurt rolls his eyes. God, Sebastian can be so precious sometimes. And not in a good way. "Fine. I'll look," he promises. But he doesn't. Not right away.

And Sebastian glares at him.

"Now, Kurt. Now. Look at your phone right now."

Kurt huffs, followed by another dramatic "Fine!" He grabs his phone, throttling it like it owes him money. He unlocks it as slowly as humanly possible. Sebastian, watching from the doorway, begins to tap his toe against the floor. Then he drums his finger on the door jamb. And when Kurt still hasn't reached his messaging app, he knocks his forehead against the wall.

"Kuuurrrttt!"

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there!"

"Urgh!" Sebastian gives up his surveilling and retreats back into the bedroom.

Kurt opens his messaging app and groans. "127 missed messages? Are you kidding me right now?"

"No, I'm not!" Sebastian bellows, and Kurt can't help snickering. Sebastian might be annoying, but never let it be said that the man is unamusing. Kurt clears his throat and scrolls down to missing message number one. He opens it and reads it out loud.

-You say I don't open up to you.

-That in the seven years we've been together, you know me less now than you did in high school.

-I don't know how that's possible, but I'm not going to debate that with you.

-Instead, I'm going to admit that you might be right.

-But I have my reasons for not opening up.

-It's not because I don't trust you.

-It's because I have more baggage than your Louis Vuitton weekender set, and I didn't want to burden you with it.

Kurt pauses, rereading that last message a few more times. A twinge of guilt tightens his shoulders and ratchets straight up through his neck. He knows that Sebastian has baggage.

Kurt has met his family.

They have so many expectations that Kurt is surprised Sebastian's head didn't explode sometime before high school. Sebastian graduated from Dalton with honors and a perfect 5.0 GPA. He was accepted to all the Ivy Leagues as well as a few prestigious international schools. He worked at an internship right out of high school, and it wasn't for anyone his family had direct connections to. But as much as the Smythes treat Sebastian like an investment they are making grand returns off of, nothing he does is ever good enough.

Surprisingly, they don't have any problem with their commodity being gay. Sebastian's family loves Kurt. Either that, or they are all tremendous actors. But in genuine extended family fashion, they keep asking when the two of them are going to buckle down, get married, and find an equally well-connected surrogate to give them some grandkids.

After witnessing all that, Kurt has to admit it would be difficult to be a branch growing on the Smythe family tree and not want to yeet yourself into a wood chipper.

-I wanted a clean slate. Put my privileged past behind me.

-Ugh. Poor little rich kid, I know.

-I made myself nauseous just then.

-My childhood was fucked up.

-I'm not the best conversationalist.

-When things get too serious, I default to crude jokes and petty insults.

-I know I can't do that anymore.

-I can't hide things from you.

-And I have been. Our entire relationship.

-I've tried to brush it off by saying it's because I had a dysfunctional childhood.

-You counter back with, "Everyone did."

-And you're right.

-But you don't understand.

-When you grow up with the kind of wealth my family has, concepts like dysfunctional take on a whole different meaning.

-You say I never break it down for you, try to help you understand.

-But it's not that easy.

-And I'm so used to using humor as a cover, any explanation I can give you comes out as sarcasm and vitriol.

-You think I'm making fun of you. Which I'm not trying to do.

-Not anymore.

-So, to prove that I want to move forward with you, I'm doing a complete 180 and putting it all out there, tearing off the BandAid in the most irrelevant way possible.

-I jumped on a TikTok trend.

“You have a TikTok account,” Kurt mumbles.

The phone buzzes in his hand. A new message pops up.

-Yes, I have a TikTok account.

Kurt seethes. The bastard won’t come out and talk to him, man to man, but he’ll listen to Kurt through their security cameras and then text him? How asinine is that!?

Kurt is tempted to turn off his phone, work be damned, and set it aside, but he takes a deep breath and counts to ten. He made a promise to hear Sebastian out.

He's not going to break it because his boyfriend is acting like a goober.

He gets another message. This time, it's a link.

-Please take a moment to go to the account I made and watch as I expose myself.

-And before you ask, yes, I kept my clothes on.

-I reserve nude confessions for my OnlyFans.

-Love, Sebastian

"You have an OnlyFans?" Kurt says louder, knowing the walls have ears.

-Would you subscribe if I did?

"No."

-Prude.

"Man whore." Kurt brings up the apps on his phone and searches for TikTok.

Nope.

No TikTok.

He vaguely remembers uninstalling it the minute he got his phone.

Even as an uber-popular social media platform among designer types, he figured he would never use it.

Welp.

Now he has to download it and make an account.

After entering his info, selecting the categories he's interested in, and answering no to linking his contacts, he clicks the link Sebastian sent him and goes to his account. Sebastian's account is public, but the post in question is unavailable. Kurt friends him, and Sebastian friends him right back.

Kurt shakes his head at how adolescent this all is. But he's intrigued.

And he doesn't hate it.

Sebastian gets a 10 out of 10 for originality.

He clicks on the post, one of two available, but the person who appears on the screen isn't Sebastian.

The post is a stitch with another creator. The face of a young woman fills the screen. She's wearing no-makeup makeup and the most trying-not-to-look-expensive-but-still-expensive Versace tee Kurt has ever seen. A tag in the caption says #richtok. She smiles at her camera and says, "What's the most insane actual rich person behavior you've ever experienced? I'll go first..."

The woman disappears, and Sebastian's face fills the screen, way too close to the camera. When he takes a step back to better fill the frame, Kurt sees that he is also dressed in a super expensive tee.

Kurt snorts.

"I'm cheating on this one because they're all about me," Sebastian says. "Strap in because it's a long one." He clears his throat and inhales deep as if he's about to say a lot in a single breath. Then he fires away. "My parents hosted my first sleepover when I was in the third grade. Every friend that came brought their own butler or valet and, in some cases, a chef who also spent the night. This one kid, Trevor, had his chef making gluten-free cupcakes at three in the morning. My house is so big that another one of my friends got lost on the way to the downstairs bathroom, and we didn't find him for a week. No joke."

"Oh...my God..." Kurt mutters. When he had asked Sebastian for full disclosure about his upbringing, wanting more insight into why his boyfriend is the way he is, Kurt thought he'd hear more about his parents' unreasonable expectations, some first kiss awkwardness, self-doubt during his scrawny middle school phase (Kurt has seen pictures), or maybe some bullying about his hair. He definitely did not expect this. "That's not...that can't be real..."

"And why, you may ask?" video Sebastian continues. "Because we have catacombs on the property. That's right. Down in the wine cellar, past the casques, we have honest-to-God catacombs. It's not exactly legal, so I can't tell you where they are. Sorry, not sorry."

Kurt's eyes pop.

Kurt could tell them. He's been there.

In Sebastian's childhood home.

Kurt has even been to the wine cellar with Sebastian to get a bottle of merlot.

They had sex down there.

Oh God...

"Here's a picture of them, though. That boy in the middle? That's me. The skeleton to my right? Uncle Avery. My parents paid for my friend's therapy for over a decade, out of pocket and in cash, so no one would make the connection. Because imagine the headline on that one: Senator's son traumatized by time spent lost in attorney's illegal catacombs." Sebastian barks a laugh, but it dies quickly. "Moving on."

"There's...there's more?" Kurt asks, astonished. He expects Sebastian to answer from the bedroom, but he guesses Sebastian is letting the video do all the explaining for the time being.

"My dad is an attorney. He used to be a state attorney until he discovered that the real money was in defending other filthy rich people. Rich people who were worse morally than my parents. And because of it, for the longest time, my dad, my mom, and I were in danger for our lives. When I got my learner's permit, he bought me a Lambo." Sebastian leans toward the screen and cackles. "I learned how to drive in a Lambo. Talk about pretentious as fuck! Then, my dad bought two identical Lambos and hired drivers to drive them. They'd follow me around anytime I went out so that no one ever knew which car I was in. So I only had a one in three chance of ending up dead whenever I went for a drive. Well, higher when you consider I was a lousy driver."

"What the...?" Kurt shoots a look at the bedroom door, contemplating storming in and confronting Sebastian about why? Why did his parents do these things? And how did his father get away with all of this? But that's the point Sebastian is trying to make.

His dad is rich—unfathomably rich. Sebastian was raised among the unfathomably rich, and they threw money at any problem that arose.

That's where Sebastian learned it from.

"My dad took us to Milan for the weekend because he wanted authentic Italian food and felt our chef wasn't cutting it. But that's not all. He dragged the poor man to Italy so he could watch us eat 'authentic Italian' to prove the point that the man was slacking. Plot twist, Our chef WAS Italian. Tenth generation. No lie. His grandfather founded two of the most famous cooking schools in Europe. Our chef's whole family has worked for my family since forever, except for one cousin who works for the mob."

"Oh my God!" Kurt shrieks. It's unintentional, but he can't help it! He feels like he's watching an episode of The True Housewives of Westerville, except every character is Sebastian's dad. How can one person be so horrific? Kurt has suffered humiliating things in his life, but he can't put himself in that chef's shoes at all.

Sebastian's father did all of that to make a point? And how much did that cost? Kurt has had his share of revenge fantasies, but he can't picture spending a small fortune solely to make someone feel like shit.

But incredibly, Sebastian isn't done, and Kurt starts to wonder: Where does it end?

How awful can one man be?

"One of the reasons my family is so rich? My father’s side hustle is gentrifying neighborhoods. Loads of them. In nearly every city in the country."

Ah. That awful, apparently.

"In wealthy circles, I am considered a catch. Not because of who I am, mind you. No one is clamoring to date me because of my sparkling personality. But because of my family's net worth. Seven celebrities have offered to buy my sperm. I was thirteen at the time, and my dad almost said yes. By the way, that's not as uncommon as you would think. If you're a kid from a super wealthy family, your parents have probably been approached once or twice for your eggs or sperm."

If Kurt's eyes were bugging out before, that confession almost jettisons them from his skull.

"No one ever showed me true affection, so all I know how to do is throw money at things. And that's going to be important in a moment. Follow for part two."

The screen freezes, and so does Kurt. He sits on the sofa, frozen in place, staring into his boyfriend's unmoving face, stunned into silence.

"I...what...what did I just watch?"

Kurt's phone vibrates, and a message notification pops up. He clicks on it.

-It's not over yet. Have you watched part 2?

Kurt frowns. Why is Sebastian asking? "You know I haven't. You've been watching me this whole time!"

-I know. It just seemed rude to assume.

"You're going to have to give me a moment to digest what I just saw."

-You're right. You're absolutely right.

-You have two minutes.

-Digest.

"Catacombs, Sebastian? Catacombs!?"

-Yeah. Weird. Go to part 2.

"I've slept in that house, Seb! We had sex in that wine cellar!"

-Yup. We have trauma in common. We'll bond over that later. Go to part 2.

"And selling your sperm? I mean, I knew your parents were messed up, but I didn't realize they were underage paternity fraud messed up!"

-I tried to tell you. Go to part 2. Now. Right now.

"But...you just told the whole world about your dad's shady deals! If he ever sees this, he's going to disown you! And if what you said is true, hire someone to bury you under the house!"

-Yeah, well, I wouldn't be the first. Ba-dum-bum.

"Sebastian!"

-Relax, babe. That's why this video is set to 'friends only'. And you're my only friend, so...go to part 2.

"You mean - you did all this, signed up for a TikTok account, and recorded this video - for an audience of one?"

Kurt hears a frustrated sigh, and the bedroom door opens.

"Yes! Effort, remember? I fucking love you! You're special to me! Now go to part 2! Now!"

"Alright, alright!" Kurt fires back. "Fine! I fucking love you, too!"

"Fantastic!" The bedroom door slams shut, and Kurt returns to Sebastian's account. He finds the second part of the video and presses play. It starts with the same young woman saying her spiel and then splits off to Sebastian.

"Part 2! Now, this is the ring I bought for my boyfriend. I've been holding on to it for a while now." Sebastian holds a blue box up to the camera.

Tiffany's.

Of course.

He opens it, turning the platinum band set with sapphires and diamonds to face the camera. Kurt's heart sinks. It's the most gorgeous thing he's ever laid his eyes on.

But there's his apology, right?

"I haven't given it to him yet because a lot of my apologies come in blue boxes, and I didn't want the love of my life to think this was another attempt to buy his forgiveness." Sebastian looks at the ring in the box and sighs. No-he deflates. Because he was thinking the same thing Kurt was. He is becoming self-aware.

And that gives Kurt hope.

"What I'm hoping it will do is show him that I do listen. I'm hoping it will prove the lengths I am willing to go to make sure he wears something on his finger that he will love. Because when someone gives you an engagement ring..."

Kurt's mouth drops open. "En...engagement...ring?"

"...it should be the kind of thing you never want to take off. This one has everything he loves: platinum band and equally matched sapphires and diamonds. Plus, it was designed by Jay Z for Tiffany's. It's one of a kind." Sebastian inches close to the camera and stage whispers, "It costs three and a half million dollars."

Kurt stares at the ring, wide-eyed and speechless.

"Now, don't get me wrong," Sebastian says. "I didn't get it for him to force his hand. Money is a part of my life. It always has been and always will be. And I love to spend money on my boyfriend. But if he wants me to return this ring and get something less showy, I'm all for that. It's meant for him. I'll get him a Ring Pop if that's what he wants. I just want him to be my husband. And I'm not proposing to force his hand either. I swear, I'm not. If he's not ready for this step, I'm okay to wait. I'm okay with us being boyfriends for the rest of our lives. And I promise, from this day forward, no more secrets, Kurt. No more blowing you off when things get uncomfortable. And no more throwing money at problems instead of talking them out. I am sorry. I am so sorry I didn't give you the one thing you have been asking for for so long. And that's me. All of me. My truth, my feelings, my effort. From the depths of my soul and the bottom of my heart, I apologize. So...will you? Will you marry me?"

That last part Kurt hears behind his ear accompanied by a warm breath that makes him shiver. Sebastian reaches over Kurt's shoulder and presents him with the open box, ring exposed. Sebastian's other arm wraps around Kurt's shoulders from behind and holds him close. "So...did I do good? With the whole talking about my issues thing? Opening up?"

"Yes?" Kurt half-asks, dumbstruck, as Sebastian slides into the seat beside him on the couch and pulls Kurt into his lap. This is...so much. So much to unpack and so much to absorb. It is safe to say that Kurt didn't know any of that. He couldn't have guessed it if he'd tried. But in the end, the most important thing he got from that was Sebastian- his effort, a sincere apology, a promise to change.

And a want to go forward.

Together.

"But I am going to recommend therapy."

"Do you think we could make it couples therapy? I hear that's an important step for two tortured drama queens planning on getting married."

Kurt looks at Sebastian, eyes shimmering as his obnoxious boyfriend - no, fiance - slips the incredible ring on his finger. "I do."

[lady-divine-writes]

The neurodivergent urge to do this

[lady-divine-writes]

At a dinner party at the Marquis de Sade’s estate…

Aziraphale: Was that really necessary, my dear?

Crowley: Wot? Wot did I do?

Aziraphale: You know what you did?

Crowley: Why would you assume it was me? More likely it was your man de Sade. This is his estate, after all. 

Aziraphale: (Sensing his demon’s jealous streak) You’re right. In which case, it’s an absolute genius prank. Great fun all around.

Crowley: (His green streak going from pea to neon) It was me. Angel! It was me. I did it.

Aziraphale: Obviously. It seems that as much as you rally against him, the Marquis might just be rubbing off on you a little.

Crowley: Do you honestly hate me that much. angel? Why would you wound me so? 

Aziraphale: I don’t hate you! 

Crowley: (Pouting) Doesn’t feel like it.

Aziraphale: How can I prove it to you?

Crowley: A little credit might be nice.

Aziraphale: Fine. I give you full credit for the men and women running and screaming and vomiting off the balconies in fear of their lives.

Crowley: (Grinning, smugly crossing his arms over his chest as he reclines in his chair) There. Was that so difficult?

[lady-divine-writes]

Crowley: Angel?

Aziraphale: Yes, dear?

Crowley: You’ll never have to worry about dying alone.

Aziraphale: And why is that?

Crowley: Because all you’d need do is yell, “I’m dying!” and I’ll be there to watch.

Aziraphale: …

Crowley: …

Aziraphale: Are you flirting with me?

Crowley: Yes. Is it working?

Aziraphale: …

Aziraphale: Yes.

(Inspired by an Instagram post by @tinybangs)

[lady-divine-writes]

I'm not a vegetarian because I love animals. I'm a vegetarian because I hate plants.

- Crowley probably

[lady-divine-writes]

Aziraphale: Crowley?

Crowley: Yes, angel?

Aziraphale: I can’t help thinking you’re using that thing wrong.

Crowley: Wot? It’s a stress ball. You use it when you’re stressed.

Aziraphale: Yes, but you’re supposed to squeeze it. Not throw it.

Gabriel: Ouch! Watch it!

Aziraphale: But I must say, your aim is exceptional.

[lady-divine-writes]

I see Crowley walking down the street, just out for a stroll, and he sees this in the window of a bakery and thinks, “Angel would love that! His two favorite things all wrapped up in one!” His first instinct is to snap a pic and text it to him but Aziraphale doesn’t have a cell phone. So what to do what to do? He can plan for angel’s next birthday, but angel doesn’t have one and it’s March! No holidays coming up either. So he just invents a reason to send it, like: 

“Happy Anniversary!”

“Anniversary of what, dear?”

“Of you opening your shop.”

“But… that’s not for months now.”

“True, but I’m celebrating the anniversary of the day you told me you were maybe thinking of opening a shop. Don’t you remember?”

“No, I’m not sure I do,” Aziraphale says, actually remembering the exact day and time he told Crowley he was thinking of opening a shop and today isn’t that day but figuring something is going on.

“Well, it’s a good thing you have me around to remember those important dates then, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is, my dear. Would you like a slice?

”“Yes. Can I get one from the adult section, please?”

[lady-divine-writes]

Michael: (Produces several black and white photographs of Aziraphale and Crowley together at the theater, at a restaurant, sitting on a park bench, and puts them on Gabriel’s desk)

Gabriel: (smirking) I’m sure there’s a perfectly innocent explanation.

Michael: Of course, there’s also these … (produces several vivid X-rated photographs)

Gabriel: Ack! No! I don’t need to see that! I was being sarcastic! We all know they’re dating!

[lady-divine-writes]

Crowley: (Reading a religious greeting card in Aziraphale’s shop) ‘Your problems are not forever, but God is’

Crowley: (Looking around suspiciously) Is that a threat? Because that sounds like a threat.

[lady-divine-writes]

grow better

that's it. you got a talent

[lady-divine-writes]

Ineffable Holiday 2020 - “A Wonderful Christmas Timey-Wimey” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Crowley isn’t feeling the holidays this year, which Aziraphale thinks is par for the course, what with him being a demon and all. With only a few days left until Christmas, Crowley runs into a girl who may change that for him.

A girl who mistakes him for The Tenth Doctor. (1945 words)

Notes: Written for the Ineffable Holiday 2020 prompt ‘shopping’.

Read on AO3.

“Must you pick out every present for the toy appeal yourself?” Crowley asks, rearranging items on the shelf, replacing a few of the more popular toys with jars of pickled fish, tins of olives, and tubes of fungal foot cream. “This is so dull!”

“It would be less dull if you helped instead of complained.”

“Mrr … ngk … urgh …”

“You’d be brightening someone else’s day,” Aziraphale says to persuade him.

“Not really my department,” Crowley replies. “You could always do what other shops do and put a donation bin inside your door.”

“Inside my door?” Aziraphale utters a disgusted noise. “You expect me to invite people into my shop on purpose!?”

“It would be for the good of mankind,” Crowley teases. “Well, child-kind, more accurately.”

“I am not going to dignify that heinous suggestion with a remark,” Aziraphale mutters, walking to the opposite side of his trolley to escape his husband’s asinine ideas. 

Keep reading

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - “Saving Face” (Rated PG13)

Summary: A gang of bullies use Warlock to trap Adam on Halloween night, herding him towards a big, old, haunted house where no one goes … and few who enter are ever seen alive again. (3904 words)

Notes: This is one of two stories I wrote for A Big Spooky Fan Zine. Be sure to check the rest of the collection for some amazing spooky works from other wonderful fandom creators :)

Read on AO3.

“Warlock … man,” Adam implores, backing away, hands raised in surrender “… come on. You don’t have to do this.”

Warlock grins at Adam’s trembling voice, his eyes wide with fear reflecting Warlock’s triumphant grin.

“Yeah,” he says, taking measured steps forward, eating up this moment. “I do.”

A pack of five boys in costume creeps up behind Warlock like the jackals they are. They’re not standing with him. They’re there to ensure their plan goes off without a hitch. This initiation into their gang will not only provide them with a minion in Warlock, whose father’s money and connections make the boy more valuable to them than Midas. But it will knock precious prince Adam Young off his popularity pedestal - a position he’s held on to for far too long.

Adam looks from Warlock to his cronies closing in on him, taking their time since they know he’s at their mercy. Talking will not help him, and he can’t fight his way out. Six against one? The odds are not on his side. So he does the only thing he can do.

He runs.

Keep reading

[lady-divine-writes]

flaming sword? oh you mean my portable marshmallow roaster

[lady-divine-writes]

“The sleeping serpent during a winter snow storm”

[lady-divine-writes]

Crowley by GranatGlow

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - “Dangerous Waters” (Rated PG13)

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley’s honeymoon gets waylaid by an amorous dolphin named Zafar.

And it’s all Crowley’s fault. (954 words)

Notes: Written for @summerofspock’s Ineffably Sweet (and Spicy) February prompt ‘love languages’. Yeah, I know it’s late XD

Read on AO3.

“Really, dear?” Aziraphale sighs as he surveys the commotion, a smile shadowing the corner of his mouth in spite of himself. Of all the asinine situations he imagined himself ending up in now that he had officially married Crowley, this was definitely not one of them. 

“This is more Mother Nature’s fault than mine!” Crowley crosses his arms over his chest, jutting out his lower lip like a petulant child and not a powerful demon. From the stories Crowley tells, a great many demons pout when they don’t get their way. Only their tantrums are accompanied by death and mayhem.

In Crowley’s case, shredded flora, open drunkenness, and animal possession.

The latter being the case here.

Keep reading

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens - “(In)fidelity” (Rated NC17)

Summary: “Wouldn’t your husband be heartbroken if he knew you were here?”

Aziraphale’s immortal essence leaves his body when he admits, “Devastated.” His demon waited 6000 years for the day he could slip a ring on Aziraphale’s finger. He would climb into a bathtub of Holy Water if he knew what his husband was doing.

If the roles were reversed, Aziraphale would find the nearest lake of Hellfire and do the same.

The demon grins, the fine lines surrounding his mouth curling up his hairline like wisps of smoke. “Well…let’s pray he never finds out then, hmm?” (1037 words)

Warning for implied infidelity.

Read on AO3.

“Tell me about your husband." 

The words flutter across Aziraphale’s neck, whisper-soft and warm. Like feathers, he thinks. Down, specifically. He trembles as they brush his skin, lingering on more sensitive areas. 

"Wh-what makes you think I have a husband?” Aziraphale grimaces at the weakness of his voice. He hadn’t meant to mention his marriage. That’s not what this rendezvous is about. It’s about surrendering to the foreign, exploring something new, and, in the process, discovering himself. 

Strong fingers thread through his, slide to the knuckles and squeeze. The pad of a thumb traces a line on Azirphale’s ring finger. 

“This indent.” The fingers move back and forth in between, caressing suggestively. “You wear a ring on this finger. One you never remove…until tonight. That screams married to me.”

Keep reading