#I haven’t written anything in over a year

[hurlingdown]

                     DRESS . . . TO IMPRESS ?

synopsis. in celebration of the most wonderful time of the year, the one piece men have prepared extra special gifts for you. zoro, law, luffy, ace.

tags. dom! reader, implied top! reader. christmas fluff, crossdressing, big muscly men in skimpy skirts, law in a nurse outfit, lingerie, heavy petting, dirty talk, kissing, horribly written crack (i inserted my humour into this), mentions of sex, fingering, cock-warming, rimming etc, don’t read this seriously, it gets progressively worse, spending the holiday season with them <3

a/n. this is my christmas gift to the one piece fandom. enjoy lol.

“merry christmas,” zoro grunted, and you felt a little dizzy from the overwhelming endorphin rush that went straight to your head and somewhere else. 

because this… this was something you would have never anticipated for a christmas gift. this was zoro you were talking about. the epitome of stoicism. had he been just… pretending all along? you would’ve expected something like an earring, maybe, to match his three. a love letter was simply out of the question… though a bouquet of poinsettias wouldn’t be over the top, if he had consulted nami in the first place. but this? this was just… breath-stealing. 

you watched as your lover rolled onto his stomach in his scanty outfit to show off the crystal pink plug that he had stuffed into his puffy rim, shooting you a coy glance over his shoulder. “well?” he hummed. “do you like it, babe?” 

“yeah,” you breathed out. “i love it. you look gorgeous. i think… i think i just fell in love with you all over again.”

he coughed, a blush rising to his cheeks, and yeah, this was something you were more familiar with—not the balmy heat shrouding your face, the dry crawl of your throat whenever you so simply looked at him, the hint of sweat building at your temples at the thought of doing nasty, sinful things to him. 

was he even real? were you dreaming? you better not be, because this was a meal you were going to spend your good time ravishing. 

“well, merry christmas to you, too,” you murmured lowly, climbing onto the bed after him, and he bit his lip with a shiver, raising his hips slightly to present you your christmas gift. you wasted no time in laying your hands on him, squeezing at the skin-tight fabric over his luscious thighs, giving his cushiony ass a small slap before smoothing over the warm ache. 

“gonna eat you out until you’re wet and sore, baby,” you told him, “and then i’m going to finger you while we binge watch shitty christmas movies together on the couch.” you licked your lips, pretending to think about what you were going to say next. “actually... might as well have you cockwarm me while we’re at it. and once we’re done with that, i’m gonna put it in your slutty hole and fuck you ‘til you start crying, okay?” 

“and after that too,” zoro mumbled, shifting onto his back and pulling you down for a soft, wet kiss that sent butterflies roaring in your stomach. 

TRAFALGAR LAW

“traf, sweetheart, have you seen my—oh.” 

“get. out.” 

“what are you wearing…?” 

“are you deaf? i said get out!” 

“hold on, okay? it’s not like i haven’t seen you naked before! just… is that a nurse uniform?”

but this was different from being naked. this was far more embarrassing. law looked at you with narrowed eyes, tone sharp with accusation that bordered on hurt. “what? you don’t like it?” he nervously bit his lip, pulling down his skirt and squeezing his legs together as though it would hide the very obviously aroused state of his crotch. 

“i do! how could i not? you haven’t even let me say anything yet!” you swallowed, feeling saliva seep into your mouth at the erotic sight before you. “you look so fucking hot, you have no idea. i love it, traf. i love it so much—” 

“okay, okay, i get it.” he huffed with feigned irritation, a small breath of relief escaping him as he shyly glanced at the floor, hands still clutching at the fabric of his dress. “m-merry christmas.” 

you took a few tentative steps forward until you stopped in front of him, and he frowned and turned away, heat rising to his cheeks. “don’t look at me like that. it wasn’t my idea, just so you know…” he swallowed when you put your hands on his bony hips and squeezed, subtly exploring the rest of his outfit with your eyes, and he sighed, relaxing a little. “hey, say something…” 

“sorry,” you chuckled, meeting his gaze again. “you’re just… beautiful. i love you. i love the fit. it looks so good on you… thank you for the christmas gift, love.” 

“and where’s mine?” he said, attempting to distract you from the deep flush on his cheeks. he slung his arms loosely around your neck, giving you an almost pouty look, to which your heart clenched at. “... don’t tell me you didn’t bring me one.” 

“oh, but i did.”

. . . you swore you tried so hard. but you could feel it creeping up on you, like a silhouette, surreptitiously tugging at the corners of your lips. fuck it. you just couldn’t hold back your smirk. you thought you were just absolutely brilliant, coming up with this idea of a gift. you knew he would love it. you just knew. 

“eyes on me, baby.”

maintaining sensual eye contact with him, you gently laced your fingers with his, pressing each of his knuckles to your lips in tender kisses. then, with a gentle smile, you guided his hand down, slowly, slowly, until it was fully pressed against the front of your trousers, right where the zipper was. you nudged your hips towards the cup of his palm, faking a moan.

“there’s your gift,” you murmured seductively, and watched giddily as his golden eyes widened in shock and arousal before a sharp, splitting pain on the side of your face knocked you out. 

“pervert!”

you laughed victoriously as you went down. like he wasn’t the pot calling the kettle black with that cute little outfit of his.

MONKEY D. LUFFY

“merry christmas!” you heard a deafening guffaw before something crash-tackled you from behind, and you fell onto the floor in a heap of rubbery limbs. 

“luffy!” you choked out a laugh as your lover wrapped himself around your ribs, still unwilling to let go. “baby, i can’t breathe.” 

“oh. sorry!” he retracted his arms and legs, getting off you with a spring. you sat up, and that’s when you saw what he was wearing. a cute christmas skirt and matching leggings, and he looked so ridiculously adorable you had to do a double take. he frowned at your flabbergasted expression, leaning in to inspect your face. “huh? did i break you? i promise, i didn’t mean to hit you that hard! wait, why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” 

he pat your head, as though that would fix things. you squinted at his carefree smile. hold on. what the absolute shit. was that lipstick? 

“luff,” you took a deep breath, trying to steady your heartbeat. “who dressed you up?” 

“nami, duh,” he sung, giving you a little twirl to show off the fit. you already knew the answer—you just had to double confirm. crap. just how much money did you owe her now? a thousand berri? two thousand? to be fair, for this quality of work, you’d pay her a fortune. “nami said you’d like it. well? d’you?” 

“yeah,” you murmured, half in awe, half in devastation, because this was a really bad time to get horny if luffy wasn’t in the mood. “you look really pretty, baby. i love it a lot.” you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will away the horny. but it was just so hard to stop being horny all of a sudden. every time you closed your eyes, all you could envision was the horny: him in that skimpy christmas skirt, a bright flush on his cheeks, sprawled out on the bed underneath you… 

the soft press of lips against your cheek made your eyes shoot open. “huh?” 

the red colour on his lips was now slightly smudged, and you raised your hand to gently touch your now stained cheek in realisation. “oh…” 

“you looked consti- constipated sittin’ there!” luffy explained, in a much louder voice than usual, a thick blush covering his face. “i had to, y’knoow, help you out… in case you were having a hard time…” 

and well, there goes your horny.

PORTGAS D. ACE

“darling! you’re home!” you watched as your lover clumsily hobbled out of the bathroom, swathed in the most colourful gift-wrapping paper you had ever seen from chest to heel. “merry christmas!” 

you blinked. were you seeing things? “ace, honey,” you started, slowly, with a laugh. “know that i’d love it either way, but… are you supposed to be my gift?” 

“well, yeah, sort of.” he grinned, trying to make his way over to you in awkward steps. he winked, keeping himself just out of arm’s reach when you tried to pull him into a kiss. “just watch. you might even be surprised.” 

he raised a finger mischievously, and you watched as the tip of it caught on fire. he continued smiling his infamous ‘up-to-no-good’ grin, carefully bringing the small flame near his clothed chest. you raised your eyebrows, unsure, because as much as he was immune to fire, the gift-wrapping probably wasn’t... and the furniture in your house definitely wasn’t. 

“watch…” ace stressed with a hush, dramatically pressing his blazing finger onto the wrapping paper, to which it burnt a hole right through, orange flames immediately clinging on to the circular edges, rapidly widening the puncture. soon, his entire so-called ‘outfit’ was on fire, and you were starting to get alarmed when an eye-catching dark red slowly emerged from the burgeoning flames, strapped right across his chest. 

you choked. was that… a bra? 

“ta-da!” he shouted, opening his arms in full display with what could only be described as pure mirth. “fireproof lingerie!” 

what the fuck. you stood there, gaping, unwilling to believe. the rest of the flames gradually died down, revealing a gorgeous pair of red lace lingerie that hugged his crotch and chest in all the perfect areas, showing off his muscled figure, broad in the shoulders but tight in the waist, with thick hips and strong thighs. you could feel yourself salivating post-shock. 

“baby, you look really, really sexy, but…” you began, swallowing down your laughter. “forget it. why am i even surprised at this point?” ace grinned, albeit a little more sheepish than usual, rubbing at the back of his neck as you checked him out unabashedly. “ah, damn it. you look like a whole feast. i’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands off you tonight…” 

“ain’t that the purpose,” ace purred, shooting you a naughty glance through his lashes. “come and get me, hot stuff. and hey, guess what? we won’t have to worry about me accidentally burning my clothes off this time.” 

and needless to say, the both of you had a very merry christmas that night, indeed.

masterlist!

MERRY CHRISTMAS! SORRY IF YOUR BONER DIED 💓🫶

[bright-n-daisy]

I just love you

Pairing: Logan ‘Wolverine’ Holwett x afab!reader

Summary: You are exhausted after a day of work, after a subtle gesture of love, Logan has ideas other than sleep.

Warnings: MNDI 18+, fluff, established relationship, pet names (baby, bub, darling), SMUT, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cockwarming, tiniest bit of somnophilia (reader is fully conscious but very tired), only body descriptions include being smaller than Logan and afab reader, small nod to reader being an empath. A bad word. Let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: K I had this idea pop up while I was trying to take a nap lol. I haven’t written for tumblr in years and don’t expect this as a comeback. Enjoy!

It wasn’t unusual for you to feel a lull in energy around midday. Sometimes caffeine would suffice, but you could already tell that was not the remedy your body needed today.

Your last class had just finished up. It had been a rough day with students not behaving. Yes, there was a certain prestige that came with your students at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, but at the end of the day, they were still teenagers.

As you stand in your office packing up your bag, awaiting the comforting bed you know is just upstairs and across the building, you hear a familiar pair of boots thud down the hallway. With the tall figure now standing in the doorway, you feel the tension of the day ease, but the weary feeling remains.

“I know that look.” Logan says. “C’mon bub. Let’s get you upstairs.”

He waits there until you make your way over to him. Once you meet him you place a hand on his cheek and a small peck to his lips. No matter how long you two will be together, a gesture that small, that domestic, makes a faint blush appear across Logan’s cheeks. With a flick of his neck, silently guiding you out the doorway, he keeps a hand at the small of your back as he closes the door behind you.

In the confines of your shared room, you can finally feel totally relaxed. Logan waits for you on the bed as you change out of your work clothes. You opt for your favorite choice as of late; one of Logan’s t-shirts that is oversized on your frame.

You crawl your way on the bed and place yourself on Logan’s bare chest. He knows when you take a nap, it’s for you. He is here for you, at your pleasure, not that much has changed from how he normally treats you. He lays on his back as you cuddle up to his side, laying your head on his chest. You are lulled off into a sleepy haze as you run your hand across Logan’s chest and he gently plays with your hair.

Before you lose any more energy and fade off completely, you turn your head slightly and place a tender kiss to Logan’s abs.

“What was that for?” Logan asks through a soft chuckle.

“Just love you.” You all but mumble.

“Just love you too.” He whispers as he slowly pulls away from you.

A soft whimper escapes your lips from the loss of warmth, only to be replaced with his body over yours. Laying flat on your back now Logan kisses from your cheek down your neck, placing sloppy open mouthed kisses just below your jaw.

“Lo, too tired.” You utter, unable to believe those words just left your mouth.

“That’s fine baby. I’ll do all the work, okay?”

“Okay.” You confirm.

That’s all he needs to continue his work. Still sucking on your neck he takes a hold of one of your breasts slowly massaging it to get you worked up. Once he feels satisfied, he trails his mouth down your body to your core, exactly where he wants to be.

He pulls the shirt up slightly to reveal your cunt. With a small groan leaving his lips, he runs a finger between your folds. Just enough of a touch, it has you instinctively lifting your hips off the bed.

“So wet for me. So pretty.” Logan hums, keeping his eyes locked to your pussy.

“Please baby.” You sigh, waiting for more.

With a hunger needing to be satiated, Logan dives into his favorite meal. Lazily licking and sucking in all the places you need most. This isn’t how Logan would normally do this. Usually there is a fervor to his actions, he can’t wait to hear your sweet moans and will do whatever it takes to make you reach your peak. Today he chooses to simply enjoy the moment, enjoy every minute he spends between your legs, memorizing you.

There is a certain simplicity in sex that he has never been able to enjoy before. Only ever having one night stands, or quick fucks to get him off. He’s never necessarily cared for the other person. Not until he met you. Coming to the mansion changed his life in so many ways, and you were the best of all of them, it feels so easy with you.

Logan is brought back to reality by your soft moans and a passive hand coming down to grip his hair.

“Uh, close baby.” You whine.

“I know, baby. I’m here. I got ya.”

The timbre of his voice against your clit was enough to send you over the edge. You thought you’d want nothing more than some shut eye, but god were you wrong.

Logan makes his way back up towards you, still trying to catch your breath from the euphoria he caused you.

Having turned you on your side with your back tucked into his chest, he turns and whispers in your ear -

“Ready for round two?”

You simply nod your head in response.

“Words baby.” Logan commands, lightly grazing his fingers over your swollen bud.

“Yes.” You flop your head back against his shoulder.

You’re not sure when Logan lost his pants, but somehow along the way he stripped down bare. You hike your leg over to the side as he lines himself up with your entrance, giving him more room.

With a single thrust Logan is inside of you, filling you completely.

“Ugh, so tight, like you were made for me.” Logan groans into your ear before pulling out so he can thrust back into you.

“Uhh, Lo.” You moan quietly, still feeling the weight of sleepiness taking over you, however current activities are taking precedence in your mind and body.

You reach a hand up to grasp your clothed breast, squeezing to pleasure yourself further. You feel Logan’s much bigger hand land on top of yours, encouraging you while also being able to feel the love and adoration emit from him.

The two of you stay like that for a while. Logan thrusts in and out into you reaching new heights of bliss with each kiss of his tip against your cervix. Slowly you feel the tension in your lower belly start to grow, an all too familiar feeling returning. You free your hand between your breast and Logan’s hand to reach back and grab his buttock.

“Right there.” You praise Logan, wanting this feeling to last forever.

“Darlin’, you don’t know what you do to me.” He breathes out. You can feel he’s close from the way he’s twitching inside you.

“Keep going baby. Almost there.” You say. He reaches down and places a gentle hand on your clit, rubbing circles to bring you to your own orgasm.

You can feel his hot seed shoot inside of you as your legs begin to shudder from your own high. He places sloppy kisses to your neck as you reach a hand up to his hair and tug the slightest bit.

You stay like that while you both catch your breath. You tip your head back just enough to reach his lips and pull them against yours. You relish the closeness. As much as you saved Logan, you need him more than the air you breathe. Having felt like you were going through the motions before you met him.

You feel him start to pull out of you when you reach back and place your hand back on his behind.

“Wait. Can we stay like this? I wanna feel you while I sleep.” You tell him.

He grabs your hand off of his back side, wrapping his fingers with your own as he wraps his arm around your side, successfully spooning you.

“Anything for you darlin’.”

[addledmongoose]

Best of 2024 Good Omens Fanfiction

Welcome to my list of the best Good Omens fanfiction I’ve read in 2024! These are my favorites of all the novels, short stories, and series I’ve read this year, and they’re the ones I have or am most likely to read more than once. There’s so much amazing talent in the Good Omens fandom, and I will never be able to read every great story, but I’m happy to have found these fantastic works. (FYI, I added up the word counts of all the stories on this list, and it’s over three million!)

First of all, if you haven’t read the stories on my 2023 Best Of list, be sure to check out the amazing works there. There are a lot of older classics, like Or Be Nice, Slow Show, and Pray For Us, Icarus and some stories written after season two released, like Factory Setting and Married At First Sight. 

Secondly, here is the entire list of every recommendation I’ve made in 2024. There are far more great stories than can fit in a single year-end list. I’ll be unpinning that list and pinning up a new one next year.

Last year, I was able to split my list up more evenly into canon adjacent/compliant and human AU. This year, I read a wider variety of stories, many of them quite long, and more series. I’m splitting the list into three categories: canon, human AU, and non-human AU. There's no order or ranking to the list; they were mostly just added as I read them.

There are also no WIPs here; all of the stories are complete. The series are also complete at the time of this list or are a series of standalone shorts that don't need to be read in order. My preferences lean toward funnier, lighter stories and are often heavy on plot. If you’re looking for dark stories with a lot of angst, you won’t find as many here as other blogs might recommend. It’s not that some of these don’t have dark, sad moments or moments of angst, but Aziraphale and Crowley must have a happy ending, and I prefer stories that don’t make me cry or cause a lot of stress.

If you like these stories, don’t forget to leave kudos and comments for the authors! 

If you hit that "Keep reading" button, strap in! This is a very, very long post.

Canon

They’re still angel and demon. I’m counting Reverse Omens in this category.

The Seventh Prince of Hell (56K; Rated M) by @evilasiangenius

Reverse Omens. This is actually part of a series, but I’ve only read the first book, so I’m not listing it as a series. Aziraphale is the Seventh Prince of Hell. His animal aspect is the octopus. Crowley is an ordinary angel. Both are assigned to Earth. They have adventures!

Genesis 3:(-7)-5.5 -7   And they assembled all the Lords, the Princes of Hell into a congregation together sometime after the seventh day, but not on a day of rest because even the Dark Council has a day off. -6  When it came to pass that all grew weary of the powerful pointing presentations, Lord Beelzebub spake with a loud voice, saying unto them, One of uzz brotherzz muzzt go to Earth as Hell’s Represzentative and thwart the doings of Heaven; there izz no choice now that the Almighty has created humanzz. Who amongzt uzz shall take up the project? It comezz with a great deal of extra paperwork, much travel, and no overtime pay. And we shall not reimbursze anything and there shall be no per diem. [...] -3  And of the seven Princes of Hell, three stepped forward, and only three; not two nor five, which are the other prime numbers near three and definitely not one, which is not a prime at all but the unit. The first was the Second Prince, who is called Asmodeus and is a demon of lust. The second was the Seventh Prince, who is called Aziraphale and is a demon of collecting stuff. And the third was the Fourth Prince, who is not worth talking about because they only appear in this one scene and for no other reason than to have three characters. I think that Prince is the demon of executive dysfunction or erectile dysfunction or something like that. Maybe both.

***

Nice And Ominous: a reluctant eschatology of the Second Attempt (series) (117K; Rated T/E) by @e-rated-beardo

A three-part, post-s2 series with gorgeous art by the author. Part I is Crowley’s POV as he deals with the loss of his angel. Part II is from Aziraphale’s POV as he tries to stop the Second Coming and deal with the loss of his demon. Part III is the thrilling finale (and the happy ending). Expect a lot of angst but great characters and plot.

It was a shit day. All the days had been shit, and there had been rather a shitload of them so far. Tucked away in a disused corner of a car park in a retail park in Croydon, a lanky man cracked his eyes open and scowled out the side window of his car. There were raindrops hitting the glass and clouds massing towards the eastern horizon suggested a storm was on its way. He had slept uncomfortably across the front seats for a good amount of time (it didn’t much matter what exact amount), and despite the car being a vintage and exceptionally attractive specimen, nobody had paid it much mind—and the few people who had had the idea to come over and have a look at the ostensibly abandoned vehicle had all suddenly realised how much they actually needed to go buy a sofa or something at that Ikea over there, right about now, in fact. Untangling his various limbs, the man in the car—who wasn’t exactly a man, as such, but close enough for government work—reluctantly sat up, his boot brushing against one of the empty bottles on the floor. He had neglected to sober up before going to sleep.

***

Too Hot for Heavenly Handling (2.4K; Rated E) by @hollybennett123

Crowley says yes to returning to Heaven. The two enjoy three fornication-fueled weeks before they’re hauled before the Metatron and the other archangels for a disciplinary hearing. Rating-aside, there’s not any actual sex in this story. It’s implicit; not explicit.

I’ve read this story more times than I can count (ok, it’s seven). I nearly choked the first time I read it, because I was laughing so hard. Every sentence is a gem. The timing of the jokes is impeccable. There’s not a single bad line in this entire piece. 

“No angel shall pretend to be of a lower status than their actual ranking,” Aziraphale reads aloud. “What does that have to do with — ohhh,” he says, wide-eyed, remembering their ongoing little roleplay. Crowley, an angel of the lowest ranking in their little game, seeking favour from an Archangel; offering to service him in secret so he might earn a series of Heavenly promotions. It had been jolly good fun, actually. “Misuse of Heavenly furniture,” the Metatron continues. “One count. Again, the actual number is unknown. Quite frankly, no one here is willing to research it further to gather any more evidence than the minimum required to bring you before this Council.” Looking back, Aziraphale’s desk has seen quite a bit of action in recent weeks. And the chair. The walls, too, if they count.

***

Aziraphale’s Diaries (series) (11K; Rated T) by @fellshish

A series of standalone fics written as Aziraphale’s diary entries. They don’t need to be read in any order. All of them are fantastic, but I probably laughed the hardest at “Adventures of a mystery shopper in the bookshop.” Aziraphale decides Crowley must be bored after the Nomageddon and in need of work and decides to “let” him take care of his bookshop while he’s away, but then he worries the demon might sell some of his books.

29 August 2018 I’ve informed Crowley I’ll be going away for about three weeks, to perform an exciting and complicated blessing abroad. In reality, I’ve booked the Ritz for myself, where I’ll be forced to act human and eat breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Anything to keep a close eye on Crowley!   30th August 2018 It’s my first day away. I decided to go by the bookshop in an “old and confused man disguise” so I could look through the window. I was just in time (a three hour window between lunch and afternoon tea at the Ritz) to see him read the letter I’d posted a few days ago so it would arrive just as I’d left.  It was cleverly addressed “To the owner or the current guardian of this bookshop”. I used all my knowledge of humans, gathered via the cleverest of ways (a lot of reading), to write it. 

***

A Special Place In Hell (50K; Rated T) by @hotcrosspigeon and @mirach

When Adam shifted reality and caused Satan to disappear, the nearest supernatural entity became the new King of Hell. As it so happened, a certain angel was standing just a little closer than his demon.

Aziraphale, while not Falling, becomes the new ruler of Hell and must navigate Hellish politics, find a role for the love of his life, and maybe bring some proper tea time to the infernal realm. I stumbled upon this story purely by accident one night, and it was a pure joy to read. It’s one of those stories I wish was a series, because I could read so much more in this world.

"Hello, Crowley, my dear fellow. I would like to discuss a certain issue with you. You see, I somehow got into a very peculiar predicament..." Aziraphale sighed in frustration, pacing in his bookshop. "No no no, that sounds like I got my hand stuck in the sweets vending machine again." He cleared his throat. "Hey Crowley, what's up? Better sit down because I have some news to tell you... And by some news I mean... errr..." The angel groaned. "Oh Heavens, there's just no proper way to say this. Ugh, come on, Aziraphale, buck up! You just need to get to the point, that's all. Say the things as they are. No going in circles around the matter. Nice and accurate, right. Just tell him..." He turned at the sound of the bookshop doorbell. "Hello Crowley! Nice weather, isn't it?" "Wha..?" Crowley raised an incredulous eyebrow over the top of his sunglasses, a drop of water running along the edge of his nose. His red hair was plastered to his forehead. He turned to look out the window, jerking a thumb at the onslaught of vicious hail and rain that pelted the glass and plinked against the pane. "Oh, ha ha , very funny. It's bloody bucketing down, angel! I legged it in here before I got clonked on the head with a hailstone the size of my fist." He stopped and frowned at the angel in concern. "Er... you all right? You're looking a bit peaky."

***

Flowers From Hell (42K; Rated T) by @entanglednow

Crowley creates a hybrid demon flower that turns out to be a little more than he intended. This was such a sweet, beautiful story of found family and love, and you’ll absolutely fall in love with Ivy and want to do everything to protect him.

There's a low, quiet rustle from the atrium, where Crowley keeps his finest plants. The beautiful and often terrified rows of them are always so tall and glossy, and fantastically well maintained. Aziraphale regrets that he hadn't taken more of an interest in Crowley's hobbies. It wouldn't have been too difficult, he imagines, to seek out rare specimens to offer the demon. When he's been given so many long sought after volumes, and unpublished manuscripts in turn. Perhaps he could encourage Crowley to open up more, with a few well thought out questions pertaining to his plants, and their various needs. He knows Crowley has been absorbed in a special project recently, he'll make a point to ask about it today. Aziraphale heads into the stretch of greenery, following the tap of feet on tiles, and the quiet swish of foliage. He catches a flash of red hair at the end of the room, behind a messy spray of deep green leaves, then another flash, of what might be the long, pale curve of a shoulder. "Crowley?" The whole room smells damp, thick with fresh soil and crushed plant matter, and it grows stronger the deeper in Aziraphale ventures. He's sure the room wasn't quite so large before, it's clearly been expanded since he visited last, a deep bed of soil is now packed at the back of the room. "Crowley." Aziraphale eases a large spray of damp leaves aside. "I hope I'm not too early, I was -" Crowley is standing by the far wall, carefully touching the valley in the middle of a large leaf with curious, repetitive motions. He's also quite naked. It's - it's unexpected to say the least.

***

Time Marches Forward (129K; Rated M) by @bellisima-writes

While Aziraphale is in Heaven trying to thwart the Second Coming, Crowley is trying to help a frightened 15-year-old Adam learn to deal with his powers. I consider this the definitive S3 (even having written a post-S2 myself), regardless of what the upcoming finale gives us. Every character is wonderfully fleshed out. The plot is intriguing. I read it as fast as humanly possible, barely stopping to do anything else.

Crowley felt the air in the Bentley shift slightly. “What are you doing here?” Crowley jumped in shock, hitting his head on the roof of the Bentley so hard his sunglasses fell off. Adam was suddenly in the passenger seat, studying him cautiously. “Hey! You can’t just come into my car, uninvited,” Crowley hissed, grabbing his glasses and placing them back on his face. He realized he was still slouching, making Adam appear much bigger than he was. He sat up straight and crossed his arms in an attempt to look more intimidating and less drunk. He wondered if it was wise to try and glower at the Antichrist. “He can, actually,” Pepper said from the back seat. Crowley turned and snarled as he noted the three other teenagers in his car. Wensleydale and Brian sat beside her. “He can do anything.” “Yeah well, that may be so but that doesn’t make it right. Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should,” he looked Adam directly in the eyes as he said this, assuming no one else around him would ever be so blunt. “What are you doing lurking around my house?” Adam asked again plainly. Crowley’s glowering was not working. “Ngk. I didn’t come to see you, if that’s what you're asking. I’m as shocked as you are to find myself here. I was asleep for a few days. The bloody car did it; blame it for the lurking”

***

The Last Angel (162K; Rated E) by @bellisima-writes

Crowley's been Hell's Grand Inquisitor for millennia now. Ever since the Apocalypse, he's managed to carve out a relatively cushy life for himself. Hell won the War, Angels were essentially eradicated and all human souls were Satan's. Everything was fine. Until one day he hears a rumor that the Last Angel in the universe was finally captured. Until Beelzebub is suddenly ordering him to get information from said Angel, information that's critical for Hell's survival. Until the moment he first locks eyes with the last Angel, and everything he's ever known starts to crumble around him.

I can’t come up with a better description than the summary. Much like the author’s previous work, Time Marches Forward, this is plot-heavy, exciting, action-packed, and gorgeous. The characters are detailed and realistic. The plot sings. And you won’t see the surprise until it’s already there.

“What kinds of rumors?” he asked, shifting in his seat to properly face Eric. Words were one thing, but body language was another. As Grand Inquisitor, Crowley learned early on to weigh both when evaluating information shared by a source whose reliability was questionable. Eric was a nice kid, sure. But their reliability would definitely be categorized as questionable . Eric’s mood shifted as they glanced around the corridor. Crowley hadn’t realized how quiet the cells had gotten. The bloody humans were eavesdropping again. He dug deep and pulled up a hiss so loud and laced with demonic power that it rattled every cell door in the entire block. Eric motioned with their hand for Crowley to follow them into a corner and out of earshot of everyone else. As Crowley pulled himself up and started walking he sent searing looks down each row of cells around him. They were all going to have a talk about this later. “What?” he asked when he got close enough to Eric. Still eyeing the cells behind them, Eric leaned in closer and whispered, “Hastur finally found him."

Crowley shook his head. Eric’s shiftiness was starting to annoy him. “Found who?” “The one who killed Ligur. Crowley, Hastur’s finally captured the last Angel.”

***

Kidnapping A Supreme Archangel For Fun And Profit (series) (31K; Rated T) by @waitingtobebroken

Mostly outsider POV. Four short stories told mostly from the points of view of Agiel, the Supreme Archangel’s assistant, and Kric (Eric with a K), the Grand Duke’s assistant as they try to figure out why the Supreme Archangel is so unworried about all the times he’s getting himself kidnapped by the Grand Duke. In the meantime, the two assistants find that maybe they have more in common than they would have expected, being hereditary enemies and all.

Being Lord Beelzebub's demonic assistant had been easier than overseeing the third circle of Hell. Just stay out of the way, don't make eye contact, not that Kric could, having been blessed with a distinct lack of eyes, and do not talk to the Prince of Hell, unless it was a 'Yes, Your Highness' or... No, that was pretty much it. You did not go around saying "No" to Lord Beelzebub. And of course, just as they had finally grown comfortable in their position, had even found the perfect time to ask for an assistant of their own... There had been a change in leadership. And Kric had found themself serving Crowley. The Original Tempter, the Snake of Eden, the Earth Walker. Kric was not impressed. Flash bastard. And suddenly, they were expected to be in the throne room at all times. To answer when addressed. Proper, actual answer. None of that automatic 'Yes, your Highness' they were so used to. The first time His Rottenness had held up two sashes, before the monthly meeting between Heaven and Hell and had asked which one made his scales look more iridescent and Kric had answered in the only way they knew how... Well, let's just say that hadn't gone well. They had been sent to something called Fashion Week. To better their understanding of clothes and colour theory, something they could sense had been invented by a fellow demon. Lord Crowley, most probably, judging by the way His Wickedness had grinned when he had told them that.

*****

Human AU

Fully human characters. No supernatural/magical elements.

Waking Up Slow (88K; Rated E) by @themoonmothwrites

After both being exposed to covid, strangers Crowley and Aziraphale wait out their isolation together (there’s only one bed!) at a cottage by the sea. This is complete cosycore fluff with just a touch of angst (and a happy ending) near the end. This gorgeous story has stuck with me for so long. If you want something that’s just plain pleasurable to read, this is it.

“Lovely view.” The voice was low, with the slightest hint of gravel, and right next to Aziraphale’s ear. He made an undignified noise and spun round in fright. “Where the devil did you-?” he started, high-voiced, before his foot caught on a stone and he lost his balance. The stranger was standing so close that Aziraphale toppled right into him, and the pair of them went down together in a tangle of knees and a solid thunk to the forehead. “Ow,” the man said, squinting up at Aziraphale, gaze unfocused, before his eyes fell closed. “Oh no!” Aziraphale breathed. “Oh dear. What do I-?” He’d left his blasted phone at the cottage, now of all times when he actually needed it! With an unconscious man lying before him! And it was all Aziraphale’s doing! “I can-- I can-- I know what to do!” he told himself, attempting belatedly not to panic. The best thing to do was not to think too hard. Tipping up the stranger’s chin, Aziraphale pinched his nose and lowered his face until his mouth closed over the other man’s.

***

The Prince’s Consort (142K; Rated E) by @ineffable-toreshi

Aziraphale is the crown prince of a fictional nation. Crowley is a Lily, trained in one of Lucien’s brothels and kept a virgin for the eventual sale to a wealthy master. Against the brothel owner’s wishes, Crowley is purchased by the prince’s adviser, Gabriel, as a companion for Prince Aziraphale. Aziraphale didn’t want a purchased mate, however, and decides to court his new consort the old-fashioned way. 

The description makes this sound like a darker story than it is; it’s actually a really sweet story with only one bad guy (and it’s not Gabriel).

I wrote a much longer review here if you’d like more details.

“I...I was just wondering, my Lord,” Anthony said, nervously nibbling on his lip and twisting his fingers in his lap. “Why did you choose me ?” Gabriel cocked his head to the side. He leaned back, reclining with his arms thrown up over the edges of the bench, and seemed to think about the question. By the time he finally opened his mouth to answer, Anthony was practically vibrating with curiosity.  “There were a few factors,” he explained thoughtfully. “I’ll admit that your appearance was the first and foremost. I prefer women, myself, but I know beauty in a man when I see it. And I’ve seen the types who’ve caught the prince’s eye over the years. I’m quite confident that he will find you more than pleasing, from an aesthetic standpoint.”

***

Keep Digging (7K; Rated T) by Appleseeds

After panicking and losing his nerve trying to ask out Aziraphale, the co-worker Crowley has an enormous crush on, he tells a little white lie that ends up completely spiralling out of control since he can't seem to stop digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole. Now he's obtained plans to help him break into a school, inadvertently funded the purchase of explosives, and, knowing his luck, the fake blood will end up permanently staining the tiles. Who knows though, maybe in the end, it'll all turn out to be worth it.

Another one of those stories that are so funny tears stream down my face every time. Even going back through it to find an excerpt had me choking down laughter.

“I actually used to be a music tutor. That was one of the little jokes I liked to tell.” Aziraphale giggled again. Nhhhhh. “Wish you could tutor me…” Crowley muttered under his breath. “Oh! Are you wanting to learn to play a musical instrument?” Aziraphale asked brightly. Crowley’s eyes widened. He wasn’t supposed to hear that. Of course, he wouldn’t have heard it if Crowley had just kept his big mouth shut. “Um. Yeah.” “Wonderful! Which one?” FUCK. How the hell was Crowley supposed to answer that? Whatever he said, he might end up having to get one of said instrument, and he didn’t know much, but he knew musical instruments could be incredibly expensive. There must be something that would be cheap enough to procure if needs be, right? And with that thought, Crowley responded. “The triangle.” Oh Jesus Christ.

***

Temple of the Muses (241K; Rated E) by @ajconstantine

It’s the start of the Season in 1841 Victorian England. Mr Anthony Crowley has left a life of working at a luxurious high end bordello in Paris behind him and is now a courtesan intent on climbing the social ladder in London to increase his status and social connections. After unexpectedly inheriting the title of the Earl of Eastgate, Aziraphale finds himself trying to navigate the complicated world of the aristocracy. Duke Gabriel purchases a month-long contract with Mr Crowley for Lord Fell as a surprise gift to Aziraphale’s astonishment and dismay. He declines to take full advantage of Crowley’s charms but agrees to an arrangement of pretending to be Crowley’s paramour in exchange for lessons on the etiquette and expectations of Society. It’s a practical arrangement, nothing more. Certainly no feelings will be involved...

One of the best, most well-researched stories I’ve read. The historical elements are fascinating, and the world-building is top notch. Set in an alternate 1841 where there’s no stigma on same sex relationships, but same sex marriage is still not allowed. The story alternates between the present time, with Aziraphale and Crowley navigating their growing relationship, and Crowley’s time being trained at one of the most elite bordellos of Paris.

Crowley has a lot of autonomy in this story. He actively chose to become a sex worker. Once he leaves the bordello and becomes a courtesan, he can refuse to sign with a client. And while there are consequences for breaking a contract, a courtesan can walk away from a troublesome client.

“Exactly what position do you think I was hired for?” Crowley interrupted, pulling the shoulder of his robe back up. The Earl looked at him as if he’d asked a ridiculous question. “Valet, of course.” Crowley barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Duke Haven didn’t tell you about me?” The Earl pursed his lips, tilting his head in puzzlement. “Not you precisely. I was at his house last week, and he chastised me when I mentioned that I didn’t have a valet, insisting I needed one even though…” His eyes widened. “Oh no. What… what did you think you were being hired for?” Struck by the absurdity of it all, Crowley fought the strong urge to laugh outright. Instead, he gave the Earl a roguish grin and bowed with a flourish.  “Mr Anthony Crowley, at your service, sir. Duke Haven procured a contract for me to be your... courtesan.” Lord Fell's mouth dropped open as he gaped at him in apparent shock. “You— I—” He floundered, at a loss for words as he looked away from Crowley. His eyes landed on the bed. To Crowley’s growing amusement, the Early actually blushed, red staining his cheeks as he swiftly averted his gaze.  

***

#RAINBOWROAD (series) (407K; Rated T/E) by @nieded

If you haven’t heard of this one yet, you’re one of today’s lucky 10,000. This is one of the best, most well-written human AUs that anyone has produced for Good Omens (or really, of any romance). It’s a three-book, three-short series set in the world of Formula 1 racing. You heard that right. You don’t need to know anything about F1 racing. You don’t even need to like F1 racing. You just need to want to read one of the best romances ever written to enjoy this series.

Ezira Phale is a rookie F1 driver. AJ Crowley is an F1 veteran and an idol of the 25-year-old racer. Everything changes when Ezira meets and falls in love with Crowley, and the older driver (by about 10 years; there’s not a massive age difference here) seems to return his feelings. I wrote a very long review of the series here, so I won’t go into a ton of detail again except to say, if you love human AU, this should be on your list. The author adds notes at the end of the chapters explaining some of the more technical aspects of the sport, or talking about some of the real racers, and it’s fascinating. 

Ezira makes his escape from the after-party after stealing a handful of fig tartlets from the hors d’oeuvres table. He ducks out the service exit before looping back to the front of the hotel. God, he wants to sleep off his tipsiness. It’s significantly cooler at night, and he wraps his arms around his shoulders before slipping inside, making a dash for the elevator. Punching his floor number, he leans against the wall and closes his eyes, waiting to be taken to his floor. Then the elevator jerks as someone jabs their hand between the sliding doors, forcing it back open. Ezira lifts his head and glares at the newcomer before his eyes widen, flushing when he recognizes the red hair and black Renault polo. AJ Crowley throws himself into the opposite corner of the elevator and pulls the brim of his hat down. He turns to look at Ezira from under his cap. "Tough luck out there today, huh?" he asks. Ezira frowns and blinks. And because he’s a little drunk and high on adrenaline, he says, "Didn’t you place seventh? I thought that was fucking brilliant." This earns him a snort, and then a bit of stifled laughter. "You can’t say fuck." "You say fuck in almost every interview you do." Not that Ezira has watched every single post-debrief involving AJ Crowley. This makes Crowley laugh harder, and he wipes at his eyes. "You just look like you should be in a painting or something. You’re like a Hummel." Flabbergasted, Ezira stares. His cheeks grow hot when he realizes AJ Crowley is taking the piss. "I don’t even know what that means." Crowley wipes his eye with the back of his hand and then presses his lips together in a feeble attempt to hold back another fit of laughter. "I’m sorry. I’m just very, very drunk, and was not expecting you to say ‘fuck.’ You look like those cherubs from Italy."

***

Lunacy (57K; Rated E) by @snae-b

@snae-b writes some of the best sci-fi GO stories you’ll ever read. This is hardly the only great story of theirs I’ve recommended; it just happens to be my personal favorite. Crowley is the crew chief of a mining operation on one of Pluto’s tiny moons. Aziraphale is a geologist there to study the structural integrity of the moon. But something seems to be alive, something that shouldn’t be there. This is pure psychological horror, the kind of story where you’re never quite sure what’s real and what’s a hallucination. You’ll find definitely NSFW artwork throughout, so take note not to read it around people you wouldn’t want seeing porn on your screen.

Crowley zones out as they continue their conversation. Things had been weird in the mine today. For the past month really. Tech malfunctioning. Batteries draining when they should have been able to hold a charge for days. Half the lights were on the fritz. As if it weren't dark enough in there already. He'd had to trek nearly a mile into Sheol with only the lights on his helmet to repair them. And his crew had their hands full with extraction, so he’d had to do it alone. The darkness really starts to play tricks on you in there. He spent as much time looking over his shoulder as he did working on the lights. Kept thinking that he was seeing something. Something hiding in the shadows. Something that lived in his peripheral vision. As he tugs a beanie on over his head there’s a light rapping on the wall and everyone glances up to the figure in the doorway. “Excuse me, Mr. Crowley. If you have time in your schedule, I really need to discuss the most recent surface scans with you. Could you come by my quarters before dinner?” Crowley sighs as he snaps on his mag boots. “Yeah. Sure thing doc. I’ll be by in thirty.” The scientist only nods before he disappears down the hall. Dr. Aziraphale Fell. He doesn’t wear the standard issue jumpsuits. He wears thick sweaters and wool trousers that look ridiculous with his mag boots. And when he isn’t wearing them, he can hardly get around. Bumps into everything and everyone. He’s never been off planet before and it shows.

***

Miracles on Ice (131K; Rated E) by @henriettarhippo

It’s the “Blades of Glory” AU you never knew you wanted. Crowley and Aziraphale are men’s figure skaters who get banned from the sport after a fight on the podium. Years later, Aziraphale’s coach, Gabriel, suggests the two of them team up to compete in the Olympic’s pairs event. Only problem is, the two skaters hate each other. 

This is very much an enemies-to-lovers story, and Gabriel as their coach and sponsor is the perfect combination of asshole and good guy. He genuinely does care for his two skaters, and he’s generous with his money, but he also has that rich guy attitude of being used to getting what he wants, and he’s not afraid to tell them to stop being dumbasses either.

“Hey angel, was that your routine? Because it looked to me like a lot of swanning about on the ice with a few pirouettes thrown in.” The mocking drawl came from the figure making his way towards Aziraphale on a pair of sharp blades. Clad in skintight black velvet trousers and a black turtleneck adorned with glittering red crystals—to match the striking red curls that stopped at his shoulders—Aziraphale’s skating rival Crowley beamed down at him with a malicious grin. “Also, you’re a bit late. They handed out the women’s medals earlier today.” He pulled down the dark shades he always wore to give Aziraphale a wink. Aziraphale bristled and sat up straighter. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. That was textbook precision, and I think you’ll find it was the same scores I beat you with last year in Oslo.” “The hotel had a free bar I don’t even remember Oslo,” Crowley said dismissively as he approached the entrance to the rink. He turned back and gave Aziraphale a grin. “But I do remember Boston, and that victory was almost as sweet as the look on your face when you botched that triple loop.” Crowley let out a laugh at the scandalised look Aziraphale gave him. The loudspeakers started up with the first booming notes of a rock song and Crowley hopped up onto the ice and skated away from him before Aziraphale had the chance to reply.

***

Friends Don't (33K; Rated E) by @missunderstoodlyrics

Human AU. Another fantastic enemies-to-lovers by MissUnderstoodLyrics. This is the newest story on this list.

Aziraphale and Crowley are rival advice columnists whose companies are merged. The CEO, Gabriel, tells them they now have to do a joint video podcast together. The snark and bickerflirting are top notch, and this story kept a smile on my face. They have to keep their romance a secret, because the whole schtick of their podcast is their very public rivalry, but it gets harder and harder the closer they become.

Aziraphale attempted to drown his mirth in his wine glass, which was precisely when Crowley decided to position his mouth millimetres from the angel’s ear. “Blair. Have you met him? Worst. Comb-over. Since. Thatcher,” he whispered and then found himself helpfully patting Aziraphale's back as the man choked and spluttered, his cherubic face turning a delightful shade of pink. “Absolute fiend,” Aziraphale managed once he’d caught his breath, but the corners of his mouth were twitching traitorously. Crowley clocked Michaela out of the corner of his eye; she was leaning forward to shush them. Aziraphale escaped her wrath by standing and marching to the stage, his back straight and shoulders squared. He planted himself solidly in front of the microphone and proceeded to destroy what was left of Crowley’s sanity. “I once met a man-shaped snake,” he stated, his gaze firmly locked on Crowley. “Whose snark was taxing to take With swagger and pose He turned up his nose But his wisdom was rather half-baked.”

*****

Non-Human AU

One or both of them are non-human, or have some sort of supernatural abilities (like magic) but aren’t angel or demon. I’m including omegaverse in this category.

Mark of the Serpent (150K; Rated E) by @naromoreau and @summerofspock

Prince Aziraphale is about to be crowned King of Angelhaven when he's taken captive by pirates. When he's sold as a pleasure slave to King Crowley, ruler of the nation readying for war with his, he is forced to keep his identity a secret as he tries to find a way home and keep peace. But not everything at King Crowley's court is as it seems and Aziraphale will have to face machinations of a Royal Court that are far more complex than he had thought. A Captive Prince AU with an omegaverse twist.

The first omegaverse story I genuinely liked, even though Crowley is pretty awful toward Aziraphale at first. Since then I’ve come to enjoy more of them, but this is the one that got me into the genre. This is another one I’ve written a much longer review about here including an explanation for the “extremely dubious consent” tag.

"What about this one?" the omega king asked, eyes fixed on his face, a strange curl to his mouth. "He's an Angel," Hastur sneered. "Pretty, isn't he? We were trying to pick a variety for your majesty to choose from since you didn’t deign to accompany us, but we didn’t find out his origin until after we brought him. He probably doesn't even speak the language." The words manifested in Aziraphale’s mind, and he immediately saw the genius in them. If he didn't speak the language, he could hardly be appealing as a consort to the king. He would be dismissed, sent back to Tracy's, and given time to heal before making his escape. "An Angel?" the king repeated, something passing over his face that Aziraphale didn't like. "What's your name?" "I’m sorry," Aziraphale stammered in Angelic, sticking to his hastily made plan. "I don’t...I don’t know what you're saying." King Crowley smiled and said, in perfect Angelic, "I asked what your name was." "Oh, um, I- you can call me whatever you wish," Aziraphale said, not wanting to risk even a part of his name. The king laughed. "I'm choosing the Angel. Send him to my quarters." "But your majesty-" The omega king turned on Ligur. "You wanted me to choose a pleasure beta and I did. It's done. Were there any other highly important council matters or can I get back to my day?"

***

Saltwater on Skin (186K; Rated E) by @candyqueenblog

Another one with a longer review here. Ezra Fell is an award-winning novelist celebrating the millionth sale of his newest books with his friends and baby brother, Gabriel, on a rented yacht. He falls overboard and washes ashore on an uncharted island, and while awaiting rescue, he gets the strange feeling he’s not alone.

This is a low angst love story between the human and the naga who rescues him, and you’ll fall in love with the island and Crowley’s four sisters. Gabriel is a peach here, much younger than Ezra and very much the caring baby brother. 

And if you’d prefer an Ineffable Wives version of the story, you can find that here. I haven’t read it, but I assume it’s equally good.

Ezra couldn’t stifle the flood of tears as he threw his arms over his head with a scream. Then a pair of rough, but blessedly human hands, covered his wrists. “You… scared?” The stranger’s voice was gravelly, most likely from disuse, but to Ezra it sounded more beautiful than all the angelic choirs. He sobbed in relief. “Oh thank heavens! I thought for sure I was going to-” His words sputtered and died when he opened his eyes to look at his rescuer. It was a man… ...from the waist up. The man’s bare torso was thin, but well defined with long arms lean with muscle. His face was all angles framed by a shock of red hair that curled down his back. His eyes were captivating. They were human enough, save for the iris being the color of spun gold and sliced right down the middle by a slit-shaped pupil. That was about where the human similarities ended. From the waist down the man’s skin melded into a massive snake tail that was wider than Ezra’s entire body and covered in black scales with a red underbelly that matched his hair.

***

FAETED (series) (251K; Rated G/T) by @ineffably-good

The only story in this category that’s not rated E. A three-book, one-short series where Ezra, an English teacher at a public school accidentally ends up in the Fae realms and in the hands of the Unseelie king, Crowley. The world-building is fantastic, and the books use some of the side characters so well, especially Hastur and Ligur, two of Crowley’s most trusted advisers. Crowley is good to Ezra, but he’s spent a thousand years ruling over the chaotic and dangerous unseelie fae, and he doesn’t always know how to handle being in love with a human. And Ezra doesn’t understand the difficult and often prickly politics of the fae, so the two have a lot of misunderstandings to work through. It leads to several fights, but they are usually resolved within the chapter.

The stories are heavy on plot, mostly around the world of the fae, which is one of the things I love most about this series. I could easily read dozens of books set in this world.

Lord Crowley watched as Ezra emerged from the coach, curious to see how this strange mortal would react to his first sight of the Dark Court. Would he blanch in terror? Would he be curious? He didn’t know or understand the creature across from him, but he knew one thing— his reactions, to date, were not what the Prince expected. This was oddly refreshing. It had been so, so long since anyone had managed to surprise him. He watched as Ezra emerged, his fluffy golden hair sticking out in all directions above the dark gray travel cloak he’d donned. He smiled faintly and with studious politeness at the horrifying gremlin who helped him down the steps, brushed the nonexistent dust off himself, and  took in his surroundings. Crowley was gratified to see his eyes widen as he looked around. They were standing in the center of an immense cavern, almost as if a mountain had been hollowed out inside by an immense blast. The rock walls climbed up above them and came together at an unmeasurable distance overhead and were dotted everywhere one looked with cavernous openings, some of which flickered with the light from a fire further inside. Creatures here and there, too murky to make out fully, hovered near the openings of some of them, peering down at the return of their Prince with eyes he could not read. Further ahead, the floor cracked into a massive chasm which ranged across the rest of the cavern and was crossed here and there by rickety-looking bridges. It was lit from below by the light of flames and the scent of sulfur. Stalagmites rose from the floor at irregular intervals, some of them paired with stalactites dropping from the ceiling like large, rocky icicles. Their surfaces glittered here and there with what looked like mica or gems. Crowley watched as Ezra took all of this in at a glance. “Thoughts?” said Lord Crowley, sidling up to him. Ezra turned astonished eyes the color of blue sky to him. “It’s beautiful! I’ve never seen anything like this.” Crowley searched his face for mockery or insincerity but found only earnestness. The Prince felt a tingle of pleasure at this, at least for a moment, until he ruthlessly slammed that feeling down inside himself and returned to his usual sardonic detachment. He hadn’t brought the human here to be his friend.

***

If He’s Your Cleric, Why Is He Putting Me In His Bag of Holding? (300K; Rated E) by @noodlefrog-omens

I read this twice in a row. Literally. I stopped it and almost immediately started it again. I played D&D 3.5 for many years, and I absolutely loved seeing a D&D adventure played out in the GO universe. Aziraphale is the cleric of an adventuring party that stupidly decides to abandon him in the dungeon (you don’t abandon your healer!). Crowley is a very hungry mimic who ends up nearly dying in Aziraphale’s bag of holding before the cleric rescues him. (Look, if you’re going to look like a fancy book, don’t be surprised when the man tries to steal you).

Aziraphale still needs to find his adventuring party again, and the mimic decides to travel along with him. Along the way they find kobolds, a doppelganger, traps, and the obligate dungeon maze, all the while getting to know each other. Aziraphale recognizes his feelings toward the mimic fairly early on, but it takes Crowley longer to even understand what his feelings even mean. 

The porn doesn’t start until chapter 33 (of 40), and only covers maybe three of the remaining eight chapters. You can read the entire adventure and stop once they leave the dungeon if you don’t want any monsterfuckery, or you could skim past the smut to the ending. I don’t know if the author has any plans for sequels, but if he does, I’ll be right there ready.

In that moment, Crowley knew that he had found the right bait to lure this human right to his doom. He waited as patiently as he could while nearly vibrating himself into a puddle, watching as Aziraphale puttered around the room cooing over all the books and scrolls in the room as though they were living creatures. “Just you wait,” Crowley thought to himself, inordinately pleased to have figured out what made this stubborn human tick. “One of them will be.” “There must be centuries’ worth of knowledge collected in just this one chamber,” Aziraphale said in a reverent whisper. Finally, finally he started touching things in this dungeon. He even took his heavy leather gloves off, tucking them into his belt before running a fingertip along the spines of the books chained to the shelves. Crowley watched him take one right off the shelf and thumb through a few of the pages. “We must have walked right by this room. I don’t know why Sandalphon told me there wasn’t anything behind this door. He must not have looked closely enough.” Aziraphale turned his back to the shelves to glance back at the door, and Crowley took his chance to crawl up the side of the bookshelf and arrange himself in front of the chained tomes in pride of place. It wasn’t difficult to change himself into the shape of a book, but this was always about the details. It was an art form. Which books, exactly, had Aziraphale been drawn to? Old ones with leather covers, mostly. Ones with bits of fiddly decoration on the spine. Ones with a bit of mystery. Aziraphale was a cleric, so he was probably interested in talking to the Gods and shite like that, or at least understanding them. That was an angle Crowley could work with. He gave his skin a supple leather texture, inky black and vaguely shimmery in a way he knew would catch the flickering light being thrown out by that sword. Gold edging and lettering crept across his cover and spine, promising divine secrets and cosmic mysteries to anyone who would just reach out and touch. He couldn’t see himself, but Crowley knew that he was a very sexy book right now. Aziraphale would have to be mad not to notice him.

***

Crowley And The Chocolate Factory (55K; Rated E) by @entanglednow

Crowley has to step up for his nephew Adam when he wins a ticket to tour the famous chocolate factories, run by the reclusive and deeply strange Zira Zonka. It doesn't take Crowley long to decide that he wants nothing to do with the man, who's clearly hiding dark and mysterious secrets.

Do you like your Crowley grumpy and cynical? Do you like your Aziraphale weird? Did you think the one thing missing from Charlie and The Chocolate Factory was sex between Wonka and one of the parents in a vintage Bentley? Then this is the story for you!

Crowley doesn’t know what to make of the definitely strange Zira Zonka, but he finds himself drawn to the man nonetheless. The story is set in modern times, but if you know the original (at least the movie version; I can’t speak for the books), you have a general idea of what’s going to happen to the children. 

Zonka releases the arms of his partners for long enough to jerk his cane towards the sky, which erupts in a shower of flower petals and candy - a large proportion of which fall on the immediately excited crowd. Crowley's fairly certain he gets hit on the head by a soft fudge. God, this is humiliating. Zonka dances right and then left while the audience cheers in appreciation. He does another circle, separates from the row to do some unimpressive spins while trying - and failing - to find a good rhyme for liquorice. "My candy emporium has so much in store. Just step right up and walk through the door!" Zonka's gold and white cane snaps up into the air again, this time leaving a burst of light and his name written across the sky in sparkling gold calligraphy. It seems to be a dramatic ending, Crowley certainly hopes it's a dramatic ending. "Half of those lines were a stretch," he complains, but quietly and mostly to himself, because the audience seems to have found the whole thing captivating, Adam included. "And there's only five kids, not six, he can't even count." The Erik's all unlink arms, to thunderous applause from the crowd behind him, and Zonka gives the widest grin Crowley has ever seen. His hands flung on his hips, like the world's most enthusiastic children's entertainer. Crowley half expects him to ask who wants to see a magic trick. "How has this man possibly managed to stay out of the limelight for twenty years?" he wonders. "Or twenty minutes."

***

Villainous (217K; Rated E) by @ineffablepenguin

Once Upon A Time… There was a red-haired sorcerer who lived alone in a high tower, and a blond prince who lived in a palace full of people. And they were both of them desperately lonely. The Kingdoms of Empyrion and the Sorcerers of Apollyon have hated each other for hundreds of years, ever since the Great War. They do not interact, other than to occasionally try to kill one another. And they certainly do not make friends. Crow is an exhausted sorcerer who just wants everyone to leave him the hell alone: for the Sorcerer’s Council to stop harassing him to live up to his potential, and for wannabe Empyrion Heroes to stop attacking his tower to try and kill him. Until one day when he meets Prince Azra of the High Fells, who doesn’t behave anything like he’s supposed to…

This is one of those stories a lot of people recommend for good reason. It’s a fantastic fairy tale full of love and romance between two people who seem destined for one another. The writing is gorgeous, the world-building is fantastic, and there’s really great artwork scattered throughout. Some of the artwork is fairly suggestive, and all of it is stunning.

Crow slowed to a stop, and his gaze flickered bemusedly over him. The man was…not tall. Or remotely intimidating. He stood a couple inches shorter than him, even with the thick boots. Wide eyes shone resolutely grey-blue, the precise shade of his doublet, under a tumble of feathery white-blond curls cut a bit too short to be fashionable. And... his stubbornly-set jaw was rather less chiseled than Crow was used to seeing. No conveniently placed scars, no gritty dents or smudges on that immaculate armour. Heroes usually had cheekbones that could cut glass, but this one’s were rounded, and slightly rosy to boot. Cherubic was the word that came immediately to mind, and Crow nearly snorted out loud. He looked to be roughly Crow's own age, and was staring determinedly, if anxiously at him from behind that enormous broadsword. There was a long, tense silence as Crow and the armoured man sized each other up. The Hero spoke first. “Now see here, villain, I don’t want to have to kill you, so just turn about and head right back where you came from.” His voice was precise and educated, nearly fussy, and while self-assured was lacking in the usual bravado. Crow blinked, taken aback, and the flames in his hand faltered. “You don’t want to kill me?” “Well…no, not particularly.” The confidence wavered for an instant, then solidified. “Which is not to say that I won’t! Rest assured I will if you cause trouble!”

***

The Crawly Chronicles (series) (179K; Rated T/M/E) by @theladydrgn and @sylwritesstuff

When Aziraphale Fell, reporter for The Daily Messenger, is tasked with a simple story on smuggling, he isn't expecting to find out that Lightbringer, Inc. has been experimenting on something that could be an animal, an oil slick, or something else entirely. He especially isn't expecting that being to come home with him and change his entire life.

I’m a fan of the Tom Hardy Venom movies, which made this two-book, two-short series perfect for me. The books follow the plot of the first two movies, though book 2 also starts with the sexual relationship between the two characters. 

My favorite parts of the story are of the two learning to live together while sharing a body, and Aziraphale trying to figure out how to handle having feelings for a creature he’s permanently attached to who is so completely alien (literally) that he’s not even sure that romantic and sexual love are even an option.

The food the human was making already smelled good enough to eat to them, and they did not want to wait twenty minutes. This time their control of the human's hand was less subtle as they dipped fingers into the leftover batter and brought a generous scoop of the chocolate mix to their mouth. “Nasty human's is what they were.” Aziraphale froze or at least tried to. His mouth seemed to have other ideas, cleaning the mixture from his fingers. “What- Who said that?” he demanded messily, looking around. “I did.”  Aziraphale took several steps back, grasping for the cane he'd left leaning against the counter. The voice sounded as if it were everywhere around him or- or in his own mind somehow. “That's hardly reassuring. Who are you? How did you get into my home?” “Got in the same way you did, human.” They grabbed the bowl of chocolate mixture before the human stumbled too far from it, fingers scraping the last dregs of it to not waste a single bit. The cane fell to the floor.  Aziraphale tried stopping himself, but he couldn't seem to make his hands do what he wanted them to do. “Stop! How-” What in the world was happening and how did he stop it? “No. I'm hungry.” “That doesn't make any sense! Stop!” he demanded, struggling to keep his chocolate covered fingers away from his own mouth. “Fine.” They still felt so weak that fighting this human for control was a struggle and a challenge that they did not want to have. It was just so much easier to slip out between their cells and wrap a long tongue around their fingers instead.

***

And finally, if you made it all the way to the end, thank you!

I have three Good Omens novels of my own I hope you’ll check out, a post-S2 with an upcoming sequel; a “they never met”/fake marriage adventure; and a reverse omens (a WIP as of 27 Dec, 2024; chapters are released on Fridays, and it should be completely posted around mid-February 2025).

[scary-grace]

(secret) santa, baby - part 12 of a shigaraki x f!reader fic

Shigaraki doesn't want to participate in the office's Secret Santa exchange, but when Toga promises to make it easy on him, he gives in. But making it easy for him makes it a lot harder for you -- you're the one who got his list. Office AU, no quirks. A fic in 12 parts. Divider by @ wcnderlnds

i ii iii iv v vi vii viii ix x xi

part xii (opening presents)

“What?” Spinner asks anxiously. “Do you think it’s too much or something?”

“Um – no.” You’re definitely lying. You can barely see Spinner around the enormous box he’s carrying. You’re not sure if he can see anything, either. “I mean, it’s the last Secret Santa gift of the year. Go big or go home, right?”

“Yeah,” Spinner agrees. He sounds relieved. “And after what happened – she deserves something extra nice, don’t you think?”

“Definitely.”

You weren’t sure how Spinner would react to the news that Aiba and her boyfriend have broken up – or rather, that Aiba dumped him when she found out about the kiss. You know people who’d have been happy to find out that the person they’d liked from afar was finally single. But Spinner wasn’t happy. He looked so unhappy when he found out that Twice elbowed him and said he’d never seen anybody be that upset over good news.

Spinner stared at him like he was crazy. It’s not good news, he said. She’s really sad. Why would I be happy about her being sad?

Spinner’s a good guy, and you’re pretty sure the giant gift he’s carrying is something he bought before the mistletoe-day disaster. When you look around the ballroom where the party’s being held, you see a lot of giant gifts, enough that going all-out with the last gift must be a tradition or something. It’s a tradition, and you missed the memo. Your last gift for Tomura is small enough to fit in your purse.

It was hard to find, and you’re pretty sure you outed yourself as Tomura’s Secret Santa to Spinner in the process of figuring out what “video games” meant on Tomura’s list. Tomura apparently has a thing for retro consoles, and retro consoles only play old games. Spinner mentioned a game Tomura’s been half-assedly searching for since last year, and you decided to find it. It took a lot of time spent scrolling on Ebay and picking through thrift store discount bins, but you finally found it, and you even found an old console to test it on to make sure it worked. You were really excited to give it to him until you got here and saw what everybody else did.

But it’s too late to change anything now. You’re here with your tiny gift, and Tomura’s going to think you didn’t try at all. If he’s even here. “Do you know if Tomura’s going to be here?”

“Last I heard, yeah,” Spinner says. “He changes his mind last-minute about stuff, though. I can text him if you want?”

“I have his number,” you say. “I can do it.”

You can, but you won’t. You know Tomura hates parties, and you don’t want to put his maybe liking you to the test against how much he hates getting dressed up and going out. It’s what kept you from asking him yourself, even though the two of you have been texting more than two people who see each other every day at work really should. The only person who brought up the party was him, when he asked if you were going. You said yes, and then he asked why. There’s going to be free food, you said. And I want to meet my Secret Santa.

As far as you can tell, most people have at least some idea of who their Secret Santa is, but you don’t have a clue. Your Secret Santa’s never written a note to go with any of their gifts, and nothing about the gift-wrapping style – or lack thereof, with the first few gifts – has given them away. The only thing you know is that they haven’t been following your hyper-specific list to the letter. While everything they’ve gotten you has been on the list, it’s all been an upgrade from the versions you asked for.

So they’re generous and bad at wrapping gifts. That could describe half the office. You’d like to know who it is, and there’s free food, so you’re here. And if you might have dressed up a little more than you usually would for an office holiday party on the off chance that Tomura makes an appearance, you’re going to keep that to yourself. Nobody has to know. And you can have fun at the party whether or not he’s here.

It is a really nice party – probably the nicest one you’ve ever been to. The decorating committee went berserk, to the point where there are multiple live Christmas trees on each wall and food tables on either end of the ballroom, each stocked with its own chocolate fountain and champagne tower. There’s music, which Yamada apparently arranged for but isn’t actually performing. Yamada’s in a good mood. When you run into him while trying to grab a glass of champagne, he grins at you. “Next year. Acapella. Are you in?”

“Ask me next year,” you say. “Once the holiday spirit’s worn off.”

Yamada cracks up at that, snags two glasses of champagne, and speeds off through the crowd. You finally manage to separate one for yourself and get clear of the table. Half a glass of champagne later, you’re ready to mingle. Time to see if participating in the office’s holiday traditions as a way to make friends actually worked.

It feels like it did. People say hi to you, and when you stop to talk to them, it doesn’t feel awkward at all. You’re willing to admit that some of it might be because you’ve all been drinking a little bit, but at the same time, you’ve gone to office parties where people were drunker than this and still silent as the grave. Some of your coworkers have already found out who their Secret Santas are, and some of them are carrying gifts that look even more over-the-top unwrapped than they did when they were covered in festive wrapping paper. Maybe it’s better if Tomura doesn’t show up. You can find a bigger gift and leave it on his desk next week, and no one will have to know that you messed up.

You cross paths with Tomura’s friends here. They’re all dressed up, probably more than anyone else at the party, although it looks more like they’re here for a costume party than a Christmas party. “Like it? It’s an Enji’s credit card special,” Twice says, tugging at the lapel of his purple suit. “He really wanted Dabi to come home for Christmas this year.”

“Did you?” you ask Dabi.

“Yeah, but I brought everybody with me,” Dabi says. Everybody. Even – “Shigaraki, too. He hates this shit, but he never misses a chance to stick it to somebody else’s shitty dad.”

“It was fun this year,” Magne says. “Fuyumi made us our own stockings and everything. That thing was nicer than any of my actual socks.”

“It sounds fun,” you say.

“Could have been worse,” Dabi says. He glances at you. “What did you do?”

You didn’t, really, which is the other reason you’re here – Christmas alone in your apartment was fun or at least peaceful the first few years, but lately it’s been feeling lonely. “Not too much. I just slept in and then came here.”

Tomura’s friends exchange glances. “Next year you’ll hang with us,” Twice announces. “You can still sleep in. We always show up late anyway.”

“You don’t have to invite me,” you say at once. You must have sounded a lot more pathetic than you meant to. “And Twice, you probably shouldn’t invite me to Dabi’s house –”

“First, it’s not my house,” Dabi says. “Second, I invite whoever I want. The more of my friends I bring, the more uncomfortable I make my jackass of a father. As long as you don’t hit on my sister –”

“Come on, that was one time,” Twice protests.

“Yeah, one time too many –”

You sidle sideways out of the conversation while they’re still debating exactly how many times one of Dabi’s friends have made a pass at his siblings. Dabi probably didn’t mean the invitation. You won’t count on it. But it’s nice that they’re thinking about it tonight. Hearing it makes you feel a little better, even if it’ll evaporate well before next Christmas.

The party ebbs and flows around you. Sometimes there are people dancing, but other times, the music quiets enough to let people talk. There are fewer and fewer unopened gifts floating around. You see Spinner still toting his gift for Aiba, which means that Aiba’s either not here or he just can’t see her around the box. The latter seems more likely to you. She’s really tiny. No matter where you look, there’s no sign of Tomura.

You do find Aiba, though, when you stop by the chocolate fountain. You can’t tell if she’s trying to hide. “Hi,” you say, and she looks up. “He’s not here, if that’s what you’re worried about. I haven’t seen him.”

“He said he wouldn’t come to it,” Aiba says. She looks like she didn’t sleep well last night, but her outfit’s on point. “I’m not worried about him. I’m just not very – fun right now. I only came to it because I wanted to meet my Secret Santa.”

“Really?”

“I thought the Secret Santa was going to be ruined because of – him. But then I found out it wasn’t him,” Aiba says. You nod. “And that makes it – nicer, I think. All the gifts I got were perfect, and none of it had anything to do with him. So there’s still one part of my Christmas that’s nice. I want to say thank you.”

Spinner had better have a game plan. “They haven’t come to talk to me yet, though,” Aiba says. She frowns. “Do you think they’re even here?”

“I know they’re here,” you say. “If you stay here, I can go find them and tell them to come over.”

Aiba nods. “Thank you,” she says. “And thank you. For the other day. That was nice, too.”

“No problem,” you say. “Just stay there.”

Courtesy of the giant present, Spinner’s really easy to find. You give him specific directions to where Aiba’s standing, tell him to take it easy, and wish him luck. As you watch him go, you find yourself wondering what’s in the box. Maybe you should have asked. It would have given you a better idea about the kind of thing you should have gotten for Tomura.

“Hey.”

That’s Tomura’s voice. You turn and find him standing behind you, a haphazardly wrapped present in one hand. You feel a temporary surge of relief at the sight. He got something small, too. At least you aren’t alone in totally missing the boat. But then you take a look at the rest of him, and the relief evaporates into something you can only describe as a kind of awestruck surprise. Tomura cleans up nice. Really nice.

Like the rest of his friends, he’s dressed up. Unlike the rest of them, he went pretty standard with it – black suit and tie, although he’s got a red cape around his shoulders. It should be incongruous, but he makes it work. He’s done something to his hair. Brushed it, maybe. Either way, it looks good. You can’t help but stare.

But even though he looks great – he has to know he looks great, right? – he doesn’t look quite comfortable. Maybe because you’re staring at him, and you haven’t said a word. “You look really nice,” you say, and a faint flush comes up in his cheeks. “I didn’t know if you were coming. I know this isn’t really your thing.”

“It’s what you’re doing,” Tomura says, and your face turns red, too. “I want to meet my Secret Santa.”

That’s you. You and your stupid gift that’s too small. “Right,” you say. You fumble in your purse and pull it out, then offer it to him. At least you did a decent job wrapping it. “It was me. I’m your Secret Santa. Here.”

Tomura takes the gift, then holds out the one he’s carrying to you. You did a decent job wrapping it; he probably needs both hands to get it open. “The wrapping on this looks nice,” you say nonsensically while he picks at the tape on yours. “You don’t have to open mine right now. You probably want to give this to the person you were Secret Santa for.”

“I just did.”

It takes way too long for you to figure that one out. “Wait, it was you?”

“You didn’t guess?” Tomura looks almost affronted. “I figured out you were mine days ago.”

“How? Was it my handwriting on the notes?”

“No,” Tomura says. He gives you a weird look. “I wrote on my list that I hate the cold, but I don’t tell anybody that. The only way you would have known is if you got my list.”

“Oh.” You would have thought the thing that gave you away would be bigger than that – like getting too familiar in your notes, slipping up and using his given name and not going back to his surname when you realized your mistake. “Okay.”

“You really didn’t know it was me?” Tomura’s stopped trying to open your gift for the sole purpose of staring at you. “I thought Dabi gave me away. When he was talking about how shitty I am at wrapping gifts.”

You vaguely remember a joke Dabi made. You really shouldn’t have had so much champagne. “Sorry. I should have thought about it a little more.”

“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” Tomura says. It’s quiet for a second. “A bad surprise?”

“No,” you say at once. “A good surprise. But – you could have just told me it was you. Then you wouldn’t have had to come to the party.”

“This is what you’re doing.”

“I know, but we could have done something else. Something you wouldn’t hate as much.”

“I don’t hate it as much as last year,” Tomura says. He nods at the gift. “Are you going to open that or what?”

“Yes,” you say. “Thank you.”

“Don’t say thank-you when you don’t know what it is,” Tomura says. “Just – open it.”

You don’t have any idea of what it could be. You know Tomura’s gone through everything on your list already. His wrapping job is easier to get through than yours. You peel back the paper and untie the ribbons and find yourself holding a hat.

It looks sort of like your hat. The one you gave him. But you found that hat on sale somewhere, ages ago, and this one is a lot nicer. Yours is just knitted, but this one has a soft lining, and the fabric on the outside feels like it might be water-resistant. It also has a goofy little pompom on it, which yours definitely doesn’t have. This isn’t anything you’d have bought for yourself. But you like it a lot.

You look up, ready to thank Tomura, and find him staring down at your gift, unwrapped in his hand. “You didn’t leave a note,” he says. “I like the notes.”

You’d facepalm if you weren’t holding the hat. “I thought I would just say what I would have said in the note to you. Face to face.”

He looks up. You’ve never seen that look on his face before. In fact, you’re not sure you’ve seen that look on anybody’s face – wary, expectant, maybe surprised, maybe hopeful. You should have planned what you were going to say a little better. Before you can say anything, though, Tomura speaks up. “How did you know about this game? I’ve been looking for it. Where did you even find it?”

“I found it on Ebay,” you say. “It wouldn’t have shipped in time, so I picked it up in person. I made sure to test it. It works. And as far as finding out about it – I asked Spinner about the kind of games you liked. I wanted to get it right.”

“I half-assed my list. Why would you try that hard?”

“I just – I don’t know,” you say. “I know Toga kind of bullied you into doing this. I wanted you to get something nice out of it. Sad Christmas might make more sense to you – and me, sometimes – but I thought it would be nice for you to have a happy one.”

That was a dumb thing to say. Tomura hasn’t told you a lot about his background – you’ve really only gotten close recently – but what you know isn’t good. It’s dumb of you to think that one video game and a handful of other gifts could rewrite any of that. You avert your eyes in a hurry. “Thank you for the hat. I didn’t mean to make you go off-list.”

“You didn’t make me do anything,” Tomura says. “I just thought you needed a new one. Since I’m keeping yours.”

Your heart skips a beat. “You are?”

“If you weren’t lying when you said it looked okay,” Tomura says. His hand brushes against your jaw, then applies pressure, turning you back to face him. He looks almost frustrated, but his face is flushed in a way you recognize. “And if you like me.”

“Do you like me?” you ask without thinking, and Tomura kisses you.

You’ve been regretting not giving him a real kiss under the mistletoe at work, but now you think it’s for the best that you didn’t. You haven’t had very many good first kisses, and you want a chance to savor this one. You wrap one arm around Tomura’s waist and pull him a little closer, and even though he startles, he keeps kissing you. He’s not hesitant, so you aren’t, either. There’s no way you’re going to be the first one to pull away.

When you do separate, it’s at the same time, and for what you’re pretty sure is the same reason. The music’s kicked back up. “Is that the stupid Grinch song?” Tomura asks, and you nod. He’s ever so slightly out of breath. He looks kind of flustered, but not nearly as much as you want him to. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“I mean, I could always sing All I Want For Christmas Is You again –” You see the face Tomura’s making. “I’m kidding. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t care,” Tomura says. He unwraps your hand from around his waist, then keeps holding it as he leads you towards the doors. “It doesn’t matter, if you’re coming with me.”

The wind hits you in a sharp blast as soon as you’re outside, and you pull your new hat on one-handed. “Maybe somewhere warm?”

Tomura pulls on your hand, and when you turn towards him, he kisses you again. Now that you’ve got both your hands free and you’re not in the middle of a crowd, you can kiss him how you want to – one arm around his waist, your other hand gathering up a few strands of his hair. Tomura’s breath catches, and a moment later, so does yours, and although it takes a while for you to separate again, you’re both out of breath when you do.

Tomura doesn’t go far. His arms are tight around you, and when he answers a question you’ve almost forgotten, you can feel his breath against your skin. “I’m warm enough.”

the end

<- part xi

[nighttime-del1rium]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔

ᝰ.ᐟ Periods suck! Luckily, your halovian boyfriend is there to help you out <3

╰┈➤𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: SUNDAY x GN! READER

╰┈➤ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: FLUFF, crack, reader and Sunday have an established relationship, reader can get periods but no body autonomy or gendered terms used, flashbacks to Sunday and Robin sibling dynamics, Sunday is the loml, this is really self-indulgent but we vibe, some use of headcanons

╰┈➤𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 500

╰┈➤ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: I need a Sunday husband. (also I haven’t written in three centuries so…)

When it comes to periods, Sunday could be called an expert. Living and taking care of his sister, Robin, for years after their parent's deaths does that to a brother, he supposes.

The first time you got your period, Sunday was prepared. When I TELL you this man knew the first moment you started getting grumpy (war flashbacks to when his sister gets periods)

He's got your favorite snacks, drinks, and anything you need already prepared for you. That weird craving that you keep getting? Sunday is a bit distraught but he's got it just for you!

If your upset, Sunday is already there to comfort you. You can lean on his shoulder, or bury your face into the crook of your neck as you bemoan the existence of life itself (Sunday can relate)

You cradle your face with your hands, sitting on the counter as you watch Sunday work his magic-cooking. Although Sunday was terrible at baking, (the burnt cookies in the trash as evidence), Sunday was great at cooking.

Sunday smiled as he looked up at you, gold eyes crinkling as he teasingly asked, "Are you that hungry that you came to pester me in the kitchen?" His voice was soft, tinged with humor as he averted his attention again back to his dish.

"Can't I just admire the love of my life without the need for excuse?" You huff playfully as you watch Sunday pour hot soup into a bowl for you. Sunday hummed, contemplating.

"I don't think you ever have a reason for what you do." He crookedly grins as you pout. "But that's what I love about you."

He brings a spoon full of soup towards his lips, blowing on it gently before gently bringing it to your mouth. You take it greedily, and once you swallow, you almost want to start crying.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Sunday’s a great cuddler, especially on your periods. Definitely holds you close and likes pressing kisses on your neck and face. He finds it therapeutic, just holding you close and not having to obsess over things

Deffff cooks your favorite dishes! (see above scenario) but is horrible at baking. Even though he has a sweet tooth he’s absolutely horrid at baking and loathes that. He tried baking you cookies once and they came out crumbling like ash-

Will never ever invalidate your feelings during your periods! If you’re grumpy, he’s there to comfort you, and when you mad he helps you out or gives you space (whichever you prefer).

Gets pads and tampons for you and doesn’t even need to ask ‼️ all those years with Robin has led him to this moment (que flashback to where he was scrambling to try and find pads for Robin)

Overall he is very sweet and will take care of you during your periods! And yes he does get mini panic attacks whenever you get bad cramps or don’t feel good during your period <3

© NIGHTTIME-DEL1RIUM: you do not have the permission to use, translate, or put my works into ai without my consent.

[lvnleah]

— christmas chaos buddies 🎄

a little Boxing Day treat featuring your two little favourites! written with @scribblesofagoonerr 💗 bit of a long one at 4.2k words

“Alright, Munchkin!” Beth said, hoisting you up onto her hip so you could see what was on offer at the canteen. “What would you like for your Christmas dinner?”

You looked at the food in front of you, wrinkling your nose. There were big dishes of turkey, potatoes, sausages, and vegetables that didn’t look anything like the ones you liked at home. 

You pointed at the rolls right away. “Bread please.”

Beth laughed softly, shaking her head. “You can’t just have bread, Roo. How about some turkey? Or potatoes? You eat the ones me and Mamma make at home!”

You glanced at the turkey and scrunched up your nose. It looked weird. “I don’t like it,” you mumbled.

“You haven’t even tried it,” Beth said, but she wasn’t really mad. “Come on, just a little bit.”

Next to you, Buddy was tugging on Leah’s hand, bouncing on her toes as she scanned the food, protesting about eating any of it, “I don’ want to eat it!” she announced, dramatically pointing ahead at the tray of steaming broccoli, “It smells funny!”

“Bubba, you have to try it,” Leah sighed, her voice already tired and definitely not in the mood to argue with a stubborn three-year-old, “I need you to at least try and eat one vegetable on your plate, okay?”

“Nooo!” Buddy whined, crossing her arms over her chest, “I don’ like it! It’ ugly, Mummy!”

“It might look ugly, but I promise you it tastes good,” Leah began to explain, trying to stifle her own amusement, “Why don’t you just try them?”

“I think she might have a point about the broccoli, Le,” Monkey chimed in, appearing the other side of Leah as she stood on her tiptoes and attempted to peer over her shoulder, “It looks proper rank and disgusting. I don’t blame her for not wanting to eat none of it.”

“See, Mummy! Monks’ said I don’ have to eat it!” Buddy exclaimed, adamant on her decision to not eat any of it, “Ou’ don’t even eat it either. Why do I’ have to?”

“You pair are a nightmare together,” Leah muttered to herself, shaking her head as she crouched down to Buddy’s level, “How about we just try and put a little bit on your plate, okay? Try it for Mummy.”

“No, I don’ wan’ it!” Buddy shot back, stomping her foot in protest, “If ‘ou don’t have it then neither do I!” she added, determined on her own opinion on the matter of broccoli.

Beth nudged you forward, “Okay, turkey for you. Maybe a few potatoes too?”

“Just the bread,” you tried again, but it was no use. The turkey and a scoop of mushy potatoes ended up on your plate anyway.

As soon as Leah wrestled some broccoli onto Buddy’s plate, you both made your way to the table. It was big and shiny with decorations, and everyone was already sitting down. You joined Lia, Steph and Monkey. Lia was chatting with Steph, Monkey was looking like she was up to something, and Vic was laughing at something Kyra said from the table beside you. Monkey was in a mood because Leah had banned her from sitting with Kyra as their recent antics had been a bit too much. 

Beth sat you on her lap, your plate in front of you. You poked at the potatoes with your fork. They looked mushy. “I don’t like these,” you whispered.

Beth kissed the top of your head. “Just try a little, Roo.”

Across the table, Buddy was already causing trouble. She was sitting on a chair on her knees, playing with her dinosaurs while Leah tried to get her to eat her dinner. 

“Roar!” Buddy shouted, making her plastic t-rex stomp on the table as it almost landed in her own dinner, “M’ t-rex don’ even wanna eat the smelly trees!”

“Bubba, come on, it’s time to put the dinosaurs away now,” Leah attempted to coax Buddy into eating her own dinner, “You can play with them afterwards, okay?”

Buddy scrunched her nose up in disagreement, “I’ no wan eat them smelly green trees! ‘Ou don’ even eat them yourself!”

Leah’s eyes widened at the sass from her three-year-old, “Buddy!”

Monkey snorted from across the table, “Touche, little Buddy,” she leaned across and high-fived the three-year-old, “Nice one!”

“Don’t encourage her,” Leah shot Monkey a look that could have turned her to stone, however, Monkey just continued to grin in amusement, “Bubba, please just try and eat something. How about the carrots instead?”

“They’ gross as well!” Buddy continued to scrunch her face up in disgust, “I wan’ beige food!”

“Well… She’s definitely your kid, Le,” Beth chimed in, amusedly.

“Unbelievable,” Leah muttered, shaking her head as she practically gave up on the idea of getting Buddy to eat any kind of vegetable at this point.

Meanwhile, you were still sitting on Beth’s lap, poking at your potatoes as if they might come alive. Beth sighed softly, guiding your hand with hers to bring a small forkful to your mouth. “Come on, Roo. Just one bite. I promise it’s not that bad.”

You scrunched up your nose but reluctantly took a nibble. It wasn’t as awful as you thought, but you weren’t about to admit that. “It’s okay,” you said, which for you was practically a five-star review.

Beth beamed, “See? I told you!”

Leah glanced over, noticing your tiny triumph, “Look, Bubba, Roo’s being brave and eating new things. Why don’t you try, and you can be brave as well?”

“Nooo!” Buddy shook her head firmly in disagreement.

“Why don’t you eat the potatoes, little miss? They’re very beige,” Beth attempted to help Leah out as Buddy squinted, looking sceptical at it before proceeding to nod, “There we go, we have some luck!” She joked.

“I’ eat off your plate!” Buddy declared, before prompting to take a spoonful of mashed potato off Leah’s plate, “Mm’ it yummy, Mummy!”

“Well I’m glad you at least like the mashed potato,” Leah chuckled, failing to hide her amusement as she now had no choice but to allow Buddy to eat off her own plate, happy as long as she was eating.

You leaned back against Beth’s chest, deciding you were done with the potatoes. That’s when your eyes wandered to the plate next to you—Steph’s.

You reached out tentatively, but Beth caught your wrist. “Roo,” she whispered, her voice both amused and warning as you tried to steal some peas.

You looked up at her with your best innocent eyes. “Just one?”

“Roo, no,” Beth laughed, “If you want some I’ll go get you some, okay?”

You sighed and leaned against Beth’s chest again as she started talking to Lia who was sitting on the other side of the table. When she wasn’t looking you reached over to Steph’s plate and stole a couple peas.  

“Hey!” Steph suddenly turned, catching you red-handed. “Are you stealing my peas?”

You froze for a second, “Nooo?” you giggled. 

Steph raised an eyebrow, her smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Oh really? Because it sure looks like you’re stealing my peas, little Munchkin.”

“Roo!” Beth gasped dramatically, “Are you being a little pea monster?”

You giggled, shaking your head, “Nooo!”

“You’re a little monster!” Beth said, tickling your sides. You giggled as you squirmed in Beth’s lap, slowly slipping off before you were fully standing. 

“Mummy, I’m bored!” You huffed as you stood beside Beth, “I’m done eating.” 

Beth looked at your half-empty plate and then down at you, her eyebrow raised. “Done already? What about your turkey? Or those potatoes you actually liked a minute ago?”

You crossed your arms and shook your head stubbornly. “I’m done, Mummy.”

“Do you not want any more turkey?”

You scrunched up your nose again and looked back at your plate. “Do I have to?”

Beth leaned down and kissed the top of your head before pulling you back up onto her lap. “Just a couple more bites, Roo. Then you can be officially done, okay?”

You huffed dramatically but picked up your fork, poking at the potatoes one more time. You sat on Beth’s lap and started to munch on some turkey, actually liking it this time. 

It wasn’t all that long before Buddy got bored of eating off Leah’s own plate and decided she was done with sitting on the chair.

“Roar!” Buddy shouted aloud, standing on the chair as she held a dinosaur in each of them before proceeding to make them stomp across the table, “Roaaaar!”

“Buddy, bubba, sit down,” Leah exhaled a sigh and rubbed her temple, “Everyone else around the table is still eating. I’m sure they don’t want to end up with a dinosaur in their dinner, do they?”

“I’ pretending to be a dino’daur, Mummy!” Buddy was eccentric, continuing to make her dinosaurs stomp across the table as one nearly fell directly into a plateful of gravy.

However, as soon as Buddy caught sight that you had nearly finished the last bit of your turkey, she had another bright idea, “Me an’ Roo go see everyone else!”

“Not yet, bubba,” Leah began to say, her tone of voice firm but Buddy had already hopped down from her chair, “Buddy, come back here please.”

“What’s the worst that can happen,” Beth joked with the blonde.

“Be careful,” Leah called over, exhaling a sigh as she went back to eating the remainder of her dinner after Buddy had finished picking at it.

“Just don’t cause too much trouble,” Beth called after you both as you slid down from her lap and immediately followed Buddy. 

“Come on Roo!” Buddy squealed with delight, dragging you toward the next table where Katie, Caitlin and Kyra were seated, “Hi, ‘Ra!”

“Hi, pipsqueak!” Kyra grinned, scooping down to lift the three-year-old onto her lap, “And what’re you two up to?”

“I’ be eatin’ my Mummy’s dinner!” Buddy grinned, proud of herself for eating at least some kind of dinner, before she got restless and proceeded to wriggle over to plonk herself on Katie’s lap, “What ‘ou eating Auntie Katie?”

Katie looked down at her plate, then at Buddy, eyebrows raised. “I’ve got carrots, potatoes, and turkey. Do yer wanna try some?”

Buddy scrunched her nose up, “Nooo! Carrots’ gross! Do ‘ou have chips? Me like them!”

Katie laughed. “Chips? At Christmas dinner? What do yer think this is, a takeaway?”

Buddy crossed her arms over her chest and leant against Katie’s chest dramatically, “It’ be better if there were chips!”

“The green things are smelly!” You added in as you climbed up onto Caitlin’s lap beside Katie. 

Alessia raised an eyebrow, “Green things?”

“The trees!” you explained, your voice filled with mock disgust.

Caitlin laughed, wrapping her arms loosely around your waist to keep you from sliding off her lap. “What’s wrong with broccoli? It’s good for you!”

Buddy shook her head fiercely from where she was perched on Katie’s lap, “Nuh-uh. Broccoli look like smelly trees! Mummy said I’ hav’ to try it, but I’ don’ wan it!”

“You should try it. It’s good for yer’ Tiny,” Katie chuckled.

“Nooo way!” Buddy giggled, turning to Katie, “Do ‘ou like smelly trees?”

Katie smirked, “Love ’em. They’re my favorite part of the meal.”

“You’re lying!” you giggled, narrowing your eyes suspiciously at Katie.

Caitlin laughed so hard she nearly choked on her drink. “Oh, you’ve got her figured out, Roo. Katie’s not fooling anyone!”

“Ou’ no’ lie Auntie Katie! It’ naughty!” Buddy insisted, peering up to look at Katie, “Ou’ can’ lie or Santa won’ come!”

“Course I do!” Katie said with a wink, though the way she quickly reached for her water to wash it down made you and Buddy burst into laughter.

“Ou’ lying!” Buddy declared, her voice triumphant as she threw her hands in the air.

“Lying’s naughty,” you added, leaning back in Caitlin’s arms with a cheeky grin. 

Kyra smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Oh, they’ve got you there, Katie. Imagine being called out by a three and five-year-old. What’s next, them doing a protest outside the canteen?”

“We do that!” Buddy insisted, her eyes lighting up in excitement.

“Oh no, no, no,” Caitlin said quickly, pulling you a little closer to keep you from getting any ideas. 

“We do’ it an’ protest again… against da’ smelly trees!” Buddy was already bouncing on Katie’s lap with a plot in mind, “We’ make signs. Monks’ can help! Roo, ‘ou can yell into the loud thing–”

“A ‘egaphone!” you supplied, giggling.

Katie shook her head, trying not to laugh as she put a hand on Buddy’s shoulder to steady her. “Alright, you two, enough of that. I’m not getting in trouble because you started a riot over vegetables.”

“Ugh,” Buddy sighed dramatically, flopping back against Katie, “Come on, Roo. Let’ go an’ find someone’ else!”

You slid off Caitlin's lap, saying your goodbyes as you grabbed Buddy’s hand. The two of you ran around a few tables before you and Buddy scurried over to Amanda and Vic, who were sitting together with Amanda’s baby, Mila, cradled in Amanda’s arms. Mila was tiny, Amanda had only been back for a few weeks but you had been completely obsessed with her. 

“Hi!” Buddy announced her entrance, loud as predicated, “We ‘ere! We see baby?” She asked eagerly.

“Hello, double trouble!” Vic giggled as she helped Buddy climb onto the seat beside her. 

“Baby Mila!” You squealed as you noticed the baby looking at you from Amanda’s lap. 

Buddy continued to look at Mila in Amanda’s arms, “She so small! Why is she’ like that?” She exclaimed, confused.

“She’s only three months old,” Amanda said softly, smiling as she adjusted Mila in her arms as she looked between you and Buddy. “Babies are very little when they’re first born.”

Buddy continued to tilt her head in confusion, “I’ no like that when I little?”

“Oh, you definitely were,” Leah chimed in, crouching beside Buddy as she wrapped her free arm around the three-year-old to keep her steady, “You were once a little tiny baby just like Mila is now, Bubba.”

“Why does she have no teeth?” you asked, pointing at Mila’s gummy smile.

“Babies don’t get teeth until they’re a bit older,” Vic explained, leaning over to tickle Mila’s belly gently. “She’ll get them when she’s ready.”

Buddy’s curiosity got the better of her, trying to reach her hand out as it stopped short of touching Mila’s face, “Can I’ touch her? She won’ bite me, will she?”

“No biting,” Amanda said with a laugh. “You can touch her gently, though. Be very careful, okay?”

“I’ can do that!” Buddy promptly nodded, seriously as her little fingers brushed over Mila’s hand, “She’ so soft! Why don’ she talk?”

“She’s too little to talk right now,” Amanda explained patiently. “But one day, she’ll learn words just like you and Roo.”

“Can she walk?” you asked, your curiosity endless.

“No, Roo,” Vic said, chuckling. “She can’t walk yet either. Babies have to learn how to crawl and then walk when they get bigger.”

“Does she eat smelly trees?” Buddy questioned, wrinkling her nose dramatically.

“Nope,” Amanda said with a laugh. “Mila only drinks milk right now. No smelly broccoli for her.”

“She lucky, cos’ they be’ gross!” Buddy muttered, crossing her arms and looking at Leah pointedly.

“What does she do?” you asked, leaning closer.

Amanda smiled. “She sleeps, eats, and sometimes cries. And she loves cuddles.”

“I’ show her my dino’daurs?” Buddy didn’t hesitate to wait for an answer before eagerly grabbing it and shoving it directly in front of Mila’s face, “I’ show her the t-rex! It’ be loud like me!”

Amanda shook her head gently. “She’s too little to play right now, Buddy.”

“Why no’ play?” Buddy frowned, clearly unimpressed that Mila didn’t do all that much, “She’ borin’ if she no’ do nothin’!”

“She’s just a baby,” Vic teased, nudging Buddy lightly. “You were the same way once.”

Buddy continued to frown at Mila, a small pout plastered on her face, before attempting to try and win Mila over with her beloved dinosaur in her hand, “Look, Mi’a! Roaaaar!” She shouted, her voice loud and excited.

Mila immediately scrunched up her face, her little bottom lip wobbling before a loud wail escaped her.

“Me’ no like how loud she is!” Buddy exclaimed, dropping her dinosaur from her hand and planting her hands directly over her ears, “Mummy! Turn her off, p’ease. Me no’ like it!”

“Bubba,” Leah groaned, scooping Buddy up into her arms before she could attempt to make any more loud noise, “Remember what I said about using our inside voices, hmm? Mila’s very little right now, and we don’t want to scare her now, do we?”

“But I’ just showin’ her my dino’daurs Mummy!” Buddy protested, feigning her innocence, “I’ no get why she no’ like them though!”

“Baby Mila sad?” you said, your eyes wide as you watched Amanda bounce Mila gently to calm her.

Beth came over and crouched beside you, pulling you closer. “Babies are very sensitive. You have to be extra gentle around them, she’ll be okay in a minute.”

“Do you think you can say sorry to Mila for making her cry, Bubba?” Leah coaxed Buddy to apologise to the tiny baby in Amanda’s arms, “I’m sure if it happened to you then you wouldn’t like it either, would you?”

“I’ sorry, Baby Mila,” Buddy pouted, looking genuinely sorry about scaring her.

Amanda smiled softly, rocking Mila in her arms until she settled. “It’s okay, Buddy. She’ll be alright.”

“Right, come on my little dino, how about we give it another attempt to eat some broccoli, hmm?” Leah tried her luck to wrangle Buddy to eat her own dinner, having the advantage of still having her in her arms, “Even dinos’ need to eat their greens, remember?”

“Fine, if I must,” Buddy huffed dramatically, reluctant to eat but having no choice as she’s set back down in her chair, “But if I’ eat them then so do ‘ou as well, Mummy. It only fair. Deal?”

Leah’s own face fell at her three years old’s words, and knew she wouldn’t be able to get out of that one now, “Deal, Bubba,” She agreed, reluctantly eating a forkful of broccoli and trying to not scrunch her face up in disgust at the taste of it in her mouth, “Mm’ this is really nice, I think you’ll definitely like it, bubba!”

“Ou’ no like it either, Mummy!” Buddy barely even ate a bit of it and screwed her own face up in disgust, “It’ no nice, Mummy. ‘Ou no fool no more! It’ yucky and gross! It’ goes in bin!” No more hesitation to climb down from the table, grab her plate in her hand and toddle over to the bin and toss it in.

“Buddy, you barely touched anything on your plate,” Leah chided, shaking her head in disbelief, “Now what are you going to have to eat instead?”

“I’ eat crisps and chocolate!” Buddy declared, promptly while puffing out her chest, “I’ no where there’s secret snacks! Come on Roo, we’ go find Monks’ locker an’ get snacks out!”

“I… I don’t know what she’s even talking about,” Monkey tried to feign her innocence, holding her hands up in mock surrender, while narrowing her eyes to look dead at Buddy, “I thought you and I had a deal, huh? You little snitch.”

“I’ no stitch, I just hungy now!” Buddy insisted, mispronouncing the word and pouting in disagreement as she proceeded to tug on Monkey’s arm, “‘Elp’ us please, Monks’!”

“I want chocolate as well!” Your eyes lit up in excitement at the prospect of sneaking chocolate out of Monkey’s secret stash in her locker. “Can we eat all of it?”

“You little rascals can’t steal all of my chocolate! What will I eat?” Monkey exaggerated a dramatic sigh, “So unbelievable!”

“Nooo! It’s our chocolate!” You said with determination through fits of giggles, “You have to share it with us, Monkey! Tell her Mummy!” You turned to look at Beth to back you up. “Sharing caring!”

“Before you run off and eat any chocolate, you need to finish eating your dinner first, remember?” Beth joked, tickling your sides which earned another fit of laughter. 

“Even the carrots?” You scrunched your face up in disgust, side-eyeing them on the plate.

“Even the carrots,” Beth chuckled, nodding in agreement, “Sooner you eat them then sooner you can run off and find some chocolate from someone!”

“I don’t like it, but fine, I guess I will try,” You dramatically leaned against Beth’s chest as you ate the smallest mouthful of carrot on your fork, “It’s not that bad, but it’s still gross!”

Just then, you heard a familiar voice behind you, and before you could turn around, you felt a tap on your shoulder. “Guess what, Roo?” Kyra’s playful voice cut through the chatter, and you turned around to see her grinning at you, looking mischievous 

“What?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“I heard there might be some leftover chocolate pudding for dessert,” Kyra said, her grin turning into a wink. “Wanna help me sneak some?”

Your eyes widened. “Chocolate pudding?”

“Uh-huh!” Kyra nodded, then looked around to make sure no one was listening. “You in?”

You looked over at Leah and then at Beth, who were too busy with the rest of the table to notice. With a cheeky grin, you nodded eagerly. “Yes, please!”

Buddy quickly chimed in. “I’ help! Me like chocolate!”

The two of you ran off with Kyra who helped you get some chocolate cake each which the pair of you ate in the corner, giggling away. Soon enough, you and Beth were on your way home. 

“Hi Mamma!” You grinned and Viv’s face popped up on the screen. You held Beth’s phone in front of you as you sat in your car seat.  

“Hi, lieverd!” Viv’s warm smile lit up the screen as she waved at you. “Did you have fun today with Mummy and everyone?”

“Yeah!” you exclaimed, leaning closer to the phone. “We had carrots. They were gross, but I ate some! And then Kyra gave me chocolate cake!”

“Chocolate cake?” Viv raised her eyebrows, feigning surprise. “Was it good?”

“Uh-huh, so yummy!” you nodded enthusiastically, “But Buddy wanted to steal all of Monkey’s chocolate first. She’s a chocolate monster!”

Beth’s laugh rang through the car as she listened to your conversation with Viv, “How’s Manchester?”

“Quiet, compared to your chaos,” Viv teased, but her expression softened. “I miss you both.”

“I miss you too, Mamma,” you said, your voice softening. “Are you coming home soon?”

“I’ll be home in a few days, Roo,” Viv reassured you. “And when I get there, we’ll do something special, just us three. How does that sound?”

“Can we have pancakes?” you asked, your eyes lighting up.

“Pancakes it is,” Viv promised with a nod.

“Baby Mila is cute, Mamma!” You told Viv, “She loud though, Buddy didn’t like her crying and wanted to turn her off! She’s tiny.”

Viv laughed at that, shaking her head. “Oh, Buddy wanted to turn her off, did she? I can imagine her face saying that. Babies can be loud sometimes, Roo.”

“Yeah but Mila still cute!” You nodded, “She has tiny hands! I held her, Mamma, and she grabbed my finger!” you added excitedly.

“She already loves you,” Viv said warmly. “You’re so gentle with babies, Roo.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m a big girl now!” you declared proudly.

Beth smiled, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. “That’s right, Roo. You’re so good with little ones.”

“I wish you were here too, Mamma,” you said, your voice softening.

“I know, lieverd,” Viv said, her own tone gentle. “But I’ll be back before you know it. And when I am, we’ll have all the pancakes and chocolate cake you want. Deal?”

“Deal!” you grinned.

“Alright, Roo,” Beth said, taking the phone back gently. “Say bye to Mamma.”

“Bye, Mamma! I love you!” you said, blowing a kiss to the screen.

“I love you too, mijn meisje,” Viv replied, catching your kiss with her hand. “Be good for Mummy, okay? I’ll phone you later.”

“Okay, Mamma!” you grinned, bouncing in your car seat with excitement. 

Beth chuckled, saying her own goodbyes before hanging up the phone and tucking it back into her pocket. She glanced at you, “Ready to go inside, Roo?”

You nodded eagerly, “Yep! And we’re having pancakes when Mamma gets home!”

“That’s right,” Beth said with a smile, “But first, how about we watch a movie before bath time?”

“Yeah!” You nodded as Beth got out of the car to unstrap you, “Only if I can have popcorn though!”

“Deal,” Beth said, opening the car door. “Let’s get inside, then.”

As the two of you walked inside, you chattered away about everything you’d seen and done today, the promise of pancakes and dinosaurs filling your thoughts. Beth smiled as she listened, already looking forward to the next few days when the whole family would be together again.

[bl4z1ng-tr1ckz]

He could feel his heart racing in his chest, as his golden zipper flew over the place.

Honestly? He felt the same way.

Dev kept running along the rainbow bridges, his tears clouding his sight, mind, and judgement. He didn’t know any better. How could he? All this time, he’d been living under the impression that he’s unlovable, that it’s his fault that his father cared about the business more than him. Maybe the business was an escape from the real world, passed down from one generation to the next. Dev’s knees buckled and he dropped to the ground, before looking up. He was right in the heart of the Star Dome..

He wiped away his tears and forced his exhausted body up, dragging it around like a corpse, or a heavy suitcase. He tried to think.

“Fairies use magic..” he reasoned, “…so wouldn’t it be reasonable to fight magic with magic?”

In a moment of clarity and strength, he grabbed a wand base and one of the stars he found lying around and pulled a small roll of duct tape from his pocket. He was going to use it when he and Irep kidnapped Peri, but Irep’s cage idea was soooo much better…

Irep…god. Dev didn’t know what to think anymore. Did he even like him, to begin with? He gave him a massive power trip, but got him in massive trouble with Jorgen, and he didn’t even know if he wanted any of this anymore. He just wanted to go home and go on his tablet and pretend he’s fine-

But he can’t. It’s weird. He taped the star onto the wand base (“just in case”, he thought) and looked at his creation. Something inside him told him not to, to think of what Hazel would think, or Peri-

Instinctively, he raised the wand up high and clutched it. He didn’t want to imagine the disappointment, or rage, or whatever the hell Peri would be feeling, on his face. It felt wrong. It hurt. He wished he was here; to comfort him, or to berate him about what he was doing and not to mess with magic again. It almost made him chuckle, remembering the time when he snuck off to Fairy World with Hazel by stealing Peri’s wand. Dev could almost see the memory of them laughing unfolding in front of his eyes, almost like he was just a ghost watching life go on without him.

Almost.

So many things he wanted to say, but didn’t. He had a facade to keep up, but even that ditched him, as he felt salty, teary snakes fall down his freckled cheeks and held onto the wand closely. He shut his eyes and felt magical winds swirl around his small, 10-year-old figure, as he muttered to nobody in particular through his tears,

“I…I’m sorry, Peri…”

(More content for our Runaway Godkid AU, so you get both a fanfic snippet thing and some art!!! Hope y’all enjoy and thank you so much for liking this AU, it means a lot /pos -🔥)

[tetzoro]

goooood morning friendz and happy monday !! sending everyone lots of love during our lil start to the week, i hope it starts off wonderfully ! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

[heavenlyakin]

*sighs* I miss Daichi and Issei and Shoyo

[bushido-jack]

//Something I relate to with Samurai Jack, is that feeling of life finding every opportunity to push you back down, to kick your legs out from under you, bring you to your knees, leave you screaming, in pain, desperate, on fire. And yet to persevere, not just for your sake, but because you don’t see any other way. And somehow, even limping, you’ll find a way to wring out peace, happiness, contentment, love, and passion from this never ending path of pain. If you are to suffer, but there is no other way, there must be joy to be gripped with white knuckles and hungry claws, to fight for peace and to strive for hope even in the midst of all your anger and confusion and despair.

I may feel like there’s no way out, but I’ve got to keep moving. There are people out there depending on me to not give up. I can’t let these forces trying to cut my journey to an abrupt end win— even if I’m tired, even if I feel like it’s too much. When I feel alone, I let my mind picture what they’d want, I let myself mourn and wonder and wish, but I don’t let it give up. I can’t go see you yet. I have more to do. Watch me and I will see you when my work is done. But I will hold onto you for all of my life. I will make my life a service to you, my actions a memorial that can be trailed to you. In every move I make I will tell the ones I love, gone and with me, “this is for you, this is for you,” and when I live, even with tears and anger and joy, “this is for you.”

[six-improbable-things]

.

[theoldworldsrunnerup]

Currently at 3,700 words. I feel kind of proud of myself for writing so much within a few days but I’m a little embarrassed that I’m so passionate about the subject matter lol

[i-like-writing-stuff]

never changing [ five hargreeves x reader ]

a/n: hi y’all! it’s been a hot minute since i’ve been on here, but after the absolute shit show that season 4 was, some sparks ignited in me to write up anything to take my mind off it 🙌

its not anything crazy, just fluff and banter since i haven’t written anything in years so it may be as poorly redacted as this season lmao

summary: five and y/n attend their niece birthday party together, yet separate

“Happy birthday, little Gracie!” You smiled widely, trying not to drop the wrapped present box as the six year old girl jumped into your arms, “Oh my gosh, look at you! You’re just getting prettier by day, aren’t you?”

You had just got off work in a hurry to make your appearance at the little girl’s birthday party at a decent time, in spite of the amount of paperwork you managed to bury yourself in lately. You knew how much it would have meant for the celebrated one to show up and you couldn’t bear to let her down, especially on her birthday.

After spending most of your life working for the Commission, and then a decent amount of time exhausting yourself in trying to stop multiple Apocalypses, your last six years have been pretty quiet as a lawyer. You really wanted to get out of the whole assassin thing, but at the same time couldn’t exactly move on from the thrill of the work field. Your career as a lawyer took off really well these past years, but inevitably it came along with the cost of always being stuck at work, so whenever your niece got the chance to see you, she was truly enthusiastic.

“Auntie Y/N!” She wrapped her tiny arms around your neck, engulfing you into a tight hug, “You are here!”

Nonetheless, these six years have been truly and undeniably the most peaceful time of your life for as long as you could remember.

“You literally saw each other the other day,” Five raised a brow, watching you and the celebrated one act as if you hadn’t seen each other in years.

You and the little girl shared a look, before rolling your eyes and turning to glare at the man next to you. Ever since Grace learned how to talk, you and her would gang up on her uncle for your amusement, especially since he was so keen on entertaining the banter.

These past six year have gone by in the blink of an eye, yet at the same time at a slow and steady pace. You spent most of your time working anyway, but still kept in touch with the seven siblings you’d grown to love.

Some in different ways than others.

“Uncle Five, you’re always more excited than me to see Aunt Y/N,” Gracie waved him off, making you burst out laughing, “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you anyway.”

“What is a good look on him anyway?” You smirked, making the little girl laugh, as Five swept her into his arms;

“Okay, munchkin, it’s your birthday today, but tomorrow I’m going back to bullying you,” He joked, causing you both to laugh, before the two shared a hug before you, “You’re lucky your gift has no return policy.”

The party had already started by the time you made it there. The playground was huddled by other kids around Grace’s age, along with their parents. The music was playing loudly over the laughter of children and you were pretty sure that most of the family had already arrived. It was not the most ideal gathering, but you tried your best to keep in touch with most of the family to your best capabilities.

“Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it!” Luther smiled, appearing from the crowd of guests, immediately giving you a big hug as his niece was still wrapped around Five, “Haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving!”

“Big shot lawyer doesn’t always have the time to stay in touch with family, huh?” Diego teased you, following suit, as you rolled your eyes, dropping off his daughter’s gift in his hands.

“Big shot delivery driver doesn’t know the phone works both ways, huh?” You smirked, putting your hands on your hips.

Diego laughed out loud as he gave you a hug, always in the mood for a back and forth short banter with you. After all, you truly were family, even if you didn’t always have the time to be present in the Hargreeves’ day to day lives. You may have met them in the original timeline in 2019, when you accidentally time traveled with your former partner at the Commission, Five, but after all you’ve been through, you didn’t need to have grown up together or be blood related to be considered that. And you truly were grateful for each and every single one of them, in spite of the many differences over the years.

After everything that’s happened six years ago at Hotel Oblivion, everyone went their separate ways. Allison was back with her daughter while trying to further her acting career and also help Klaus stay on the sober line, Viktor had moved to Canada where he opened a bar, Diego and Lila had three kids, Luther was “professionally dancing”, Ben had some run-ins with the law and Five, ironically enough, was working for the CIA.

“Well, you two are as annoying as always,” Ben told you and his brother, making Diego roll his eyes as he walked towards the gift table to set down your present.

“Please try to stay out of prison at least for the remainder of the year,” You joked with the man, making him roll his eyes as he hugged you loosely, “There’s only so much favors I could owe the DA.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben groaned, “I don’t even know why they let you work at the law firm since you still look like a prepubescent with no boobs. Even Five got a growth spurt.”

“I sized up to B recently, thank you very much,” You nudged his shoulder, before placing your hands on your chest in an offended manner.

“Okay, Gracie, not a conversation you’d wanna hear,” Five spoke up, putting his niece down, “Your aunt needs to learn some etiquette on how to act around children.”

“Funny coming from you,” You couldn’t help but wave him off.

You didn’t come in with Five at the party, but as fate had it, you did run into him as you were parking your car. He had just gone out to his brother’s dusty van to bring inside some more cookies for the guests. You kept in touch with him as well, but not as often as you would have liked. It’s not all that serious, but given the fact that you were a lawyer still climbing your way to the top and him being a top notch CIA agent, you didn’t exactly have the time to hang out.

At least, not as much as you’d have liked.

Five was watching you with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and his hands in his pockets. He had the same look on his face as always when watching you. He had the same smile when he saw you in combat for the first time during your first mission for the Commission together, the same look in his eyes when you appeared for the first time in 2019 alongside him in your teen bodies. The same posture he had when he met you again in 1963 after months of not seeing each other.

He wore the same love on his face while looking at you when you and the siblings split up after the events at Oblivion.

And never once did you notice that.

Not once in these past six years you let your feelings surface.

“You know Grace is my niece too, right?” He couldn’t drop the small smile even if he wanted to.

“Since when are you such a family man?” You raised a brow, trying to keep a confident composure.

“Oh, something changed in me between the first and third time I traded the world for my siblings,” He lightly shrugged his shoulders, making you roll your eyes at the sarcastic remark.

You two never changed.

“Please, I was there for the twins birth,” You waved him off.

You rarely see Five, and even when you do you always try to act normal, as you do around the rest of the Hargreeves. Everyone tried to get you two together at first, since the apocalypse was over and there was no reason for you to not get together, right?

You really wished it was that easy. In hindsight, maybe it was. But you couldn’t take any chances in losing Five forever if something were to go wrong. Maybe some would see it as something stupid, or as if you wasted so many years, but to you- mentally, you were almost seventy, while physically nineteen. You had so much time ahead of you now, all that mattered was to get a stable career first.

Five let a chuckle escape, shaking his head in disbelief, as he looked at the floor for a couple of seconds. When he looked back at you, you tried to keep your composure. You couldn’t help but feel pathetic that after all these years, your heart still skipped a beat whenever he’d look at you.

“You’re doing that thing again where you forget that some other people are still around, guys,” Luther raised his hand, grabbing your attention once again.

“I got bored of watching seventy year old virgins,” Ben shrugged his shoulders, “I’m gonna go get shitfaced.”

“Always a delight seeing you, Benjamin,” Five said, as Luther followed the ex-tentacle boy suit to make re he was not about to actually get drunk;

“This is a six year old’s birthday party!”

You giggled, watching the two brothers speed away while arguing amongst the kids in the crowd. When your eyes laid back on Five, who was intently watching you, you couldn’t help but feel a small blush creep its way in your cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Spit it out, Hargreeves.”

“I said it’s nothing!”

“Fuck you.”

“Why?”

You watched him dumbfounded for a couple of seconds because of the only answer he could come up with, before walking away, hoping he would follow you.

When he did try to keep up with you, you looked away to hide the proud smile. Even after all these years, things were still the same with him. He was still so eager to spend time with you, he was still smiling at you and entertaining your conversation.

“Aunt Y/N, Uncle Five, come play in the ball pit!” Gracie ushered you from afar, already tucked in the plastic colorful balls.

“You heard the birthday girl!” You smiled, grabbing his hand to drag Five after you.

Even after all these years he would instantly lock his fingers with yours.

[keeryhours]

i like the way you kiss me - rafe cameron

Baby daddy! Rafe x Baby mama! Maybank! Reader

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron Masterlist

More Baby Daddy! Rafe

Summary:

i like the way you kiss me

i can tell you miss me

i can tell it hits, hits, hits, hits

not tryna be romantic,

i’ll hit it from the back

just so you don’t get attached

Rafe stops over for a surprise visit with his daughter. She may not be home, but that doesn’t mean he has to leave, does it?

Warnings:

Smut (18+ only!), p in v, fingering, dirty talk, slight breeding kink

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N:

Yay, my first Rafe fic! And y’all I haven’t written smut in years so I hope this isn’t awful. I would love to turn this into a sort-of series of interconnected baby daddy! Rafe and baby mama! reader one shots if you guys would be interested in that!

—

“Maaaamaaaaa!”

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself when you were woken up by the baby monitor. Iris never woke up angry and crying, you were greeted every morning to the sounds of her babbling to herself and calling for you.

It may have been earlier than you’d like, but it certainly wasn’t a bad way to wake up.

You climbed out of bed, wiping your eyes before standing and walking down the hall towards the nursery. There was a chorus of “Mamamamama” as you headed towards your 1 year old daughter, who greeted you standing in her crib with the biggest smile. Her sleep sack was tucked beneath her feet - you’re not sure how she even manages to stand in it.

“Hi, pretty girl,” you greeted her, earning a giggle from the baby. She never failed to brighten up your mood, just by existing. You always heard a parent’s love for their child is intense, but you didn’t quite believe it until you had her and experienced it yourself.

She also happens to be the cutest baby to ever exist. With her head full of brown hair and blue eyes, she is certainly her father’s daughter. She’s tall for her age, too. You thought it was a little bit bullshit that you carried her for 9 months and did all the hard work just for her to come out her dad’s twin, but how could you really complain when she was so beautiful?

Iris lifted her arms for you to pick her up, and you couldn’t help but give her a snuggle before you moved to the changing table. You got her changed out of her pajamas and into a clean diaper, dressing her for the day in a light green dress with bunnies embroidered on the chest, a long sleeve white shirt underneath.

Iris had an extensive wardrobe. Shopping for clothes and putting together outfits was one of your favorite parts of being a girl mom, so you were certainly guilty of overspending on her, but the truth was that most of her closet came from Rafe. In fact, most of her stuff in general was from Rafe.

You never asked him to do any of that, but he was always showing up unannounced with shopping bags full of baby clothes, toys, anything he saw and thought she would like. Random packages would show up throughout the week, stuff he found online and sent directly to your house. He spoiled her badly, but it made them both happy, so you didn’t complain. You wanted her to have the world, anything she wanted, and you couldn’t quite provide that, but Rafe could.

“Good morning, my favorite tiny person!” Your twin brother, JJ, greeted his niece as he walked into the pink bedroom. She giggled the second she saw him, and he scooped her into his arms, twirling her around and making her laugh harder.

“JayJay!” she exclaimed, her tiny hands reaching for his messy blonde hair immediately.

“And I also exist…” you mumbled as you threw the dirty diaper away in the pail, but you couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

JJ acknowledged you with an eye roll before turning right back to Iris. “Are you ready for a day out with Uncle JJ?”

Iris grinned wildly at her uncle, one of her favorite people in the world. She didn’t exactly know what that meant, but if it involved JJ, she was certainly happy to be there.

You made pancakes for breakfast, which both JJ and Iris absolutely devoured. Iris was covered in a mess of syrup when she was finished, but thanks to a combination of her bib and baby smock thing, she didn’t get a drop on her outfit. You cleaned up her face and hands, Iris fighting you the entire time.

“You have everything she needs?” You asked nervously as JJ packed up the diaper bag, Iris dancing in front of the TV to the Bluey theme song.

“I got diapers, wipes, a sippy cup, a change of clothes…I think I’m set, sis,” he said, giving a look that says calm down, I’ve got this.

It was hard for you to not be nervous letting your daughter go off without you. She was still rarely out of your sight, besides Rafe’s weekends. You were too nervous to send her to daycare, at least not yet, and Rafe agreed, so he helped pay the bills in the house you shared with JJ while you stayed home with her, which gave you the chance to work on college courses online.

“You packed snacks in case she gets hungry?” You asked, fiddling with the string of your pajama shorts. You hadn’t even had the chance to get changed into real clothes yet, since you’d been following Iris around all morning and making sure she was set to go.

“Yes,” JJ answered, sounding frustrated. “I’ve got this. We won’t even be gone long, she’s going to be fine.”

You probably would have come up with another question, but you were all interrupted by the front door opening as someone let themselves into the house like they owned the place. You and JJ looked towards the direction of the hallway as the sound of footsteps trailed down it, even though you definitely already knew who it was.

“Dada!” Iris practically squealed, and she ran as fast as her little legs would carry her towards the tall frame of her father, who was grinning like crazy and setting down a bag.

“There’s my girl,” he said, crouching down with his arms open wide to catch her. She tripped over her own feet at the last second, falling against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, standing to his full height again. Iris wrapped her tiny arms around his neck.

“She was just about to head out for a date with Uncle JJ,” you said, smiling at your daughter’s laughing face.

Rafe looked away from her to give you a questioning look. “Why is JJ taking her?” he asked like your brother wasn’t even in the room. JJ rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother to say anything.

“He wanted to spend time with her,” you answered. “And I have a big exam to take so I needed a couple hours alone.”

Rafe looked at you like he was confused, concerned. He was protective of his girl. “If you needed someone to watch her, you should have called me.”

“I know you’d watch her any time,” you said, not wanting to argue with him today. “But JJ really has been wanting to take her to the park, so I told him he could.”

Rafe’s eyes finally went to JJ, and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes, but didn’t push it. He sat Iris back down as JJ zipped up the diaper bag and slung it over his shoulder, picking up the car keys.

“Alright, little lady, ready to go?” JJ asked, a smile on his face as Iris danced around.

“Go! Go!” She chanted, jumping up and down. JJ picked her up, sitting her on his hip.

“Alright. We’re gone,” he said, leaning over to give you a kiss on the cheek. “See you guys later.”

“Have fun!” you called after them. “Be safe!”

JJ acknowledged you with a “Yep!” and then the front door was closing, leaving you alone with Rafe.

You looked at him. He didn’t look like he was in a rush to leave.

“What did you bring?” you asked, gesturing to the bag he had sat by his feet.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he shrugged. “Just some clothes.”

You laughed lightly to yourself - the little girl already had so many clothes, you weren’t sure if she’d be able to wear them all before she grew out of them.

You took the bag from him, sitting it down on the couch to go through later. You always liked to wash her clothes before letting her wear them, because who knows what kind of germs they’ve picked up in the store.

Rafe trailed behind you as you walked back into the kitchen, picking up the dishes from breakfast and washing them in the sink. He stood next to you without a word and helped by drying them after you washed.

When you were done, you turned around, leaning against the counter. Rafe picked up the stack of dishes and put them away in the cabinet they go in, before walking over to stand right in front of you. He reached up, pushing your hair behind your shoulder.

“You look pretty,” he murmured, his eyes taking in your frame.

You laughed softly. “I haven’t even changed out of my pajamas. I just rolled out of bed.”

A smile played at Rafe’s lips, his hand moving to rest on your cheek. “So? You’re always pretty.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the way your heart beat harder in your chest, your cheeks beginning to heat. “Didn’t you have a date last night, Rafe?”

That made him chuckle. “You knew about that, huh?”

You felt embarrassed, then. You weren’t supposed to know that. The only reason you did was because Sarah had told you. You weren’t supposed to care.

“It was nothing,” he continued. “We didn’t really click. She was…boring.”

You felt guilty for the satisfaction that brought you. Rafe hadn’t had a serious girlfriend since you had gotten pregnant, and you liked it that way. You and Rafe weren’t good for each other, you broke up long ago and it should stay that way. But you can’t help how jealous you feel any time the topic of Rafe and another girl comes up, and Rafe always seems to catch an attitude with you for days every time you mention seeing a guy.

“Well I’m sorry to hear that,” you lied, highly aware of how close he was standing to you now.

His thumb rubbed over your cheek before he moved it to your lips, tracing over them, pulling down slightly on your bottom lip.

“Missed you…” he muttered, his voice low. You felt the vibrations of it through your own body.

Despite your best judgment, your mind went hazy around him. You could feel his breath against your cheek. “I’ve missed you too,” you whispered back, like a fool.

He smirked at that, and then before you knew what was happening, he was leaning in, pressing his lips to yours. They molded together perfectly, as they always did. Rafe’s lips were soft against yours as he kissed you gently at first, almost as if he was testing the waters.

The kiss became more hungry before long, and then he was pressing his body closer to yours, one hand staying on your cheek while the other moved down to rest on your hip. He had his body pressed against yours, practically devouring you with his kiss, his tongue tracing along your bottom lip.

You let him in. Of course you did, you always do.

His tongue pressed into your mouth like it belongs to him. There’s never been anything shy about Rafe. You heard yourself moan into the kiss before you even realized it was you that made the noise, and you felt Rafe’s lips turn up into a grin as he kissed you.

His big hands trailed down your body until he bent down and they reached the backs of your thighs, then he was lifting you up, causing you to squeal and wrap your legs around his waist, giggling against his lips. He laughed too, and he began walking through the house and back towards your bedroom.

He dropped you on the bed and you looked up at him, already breathless. He wasted no time before he was crawling over you, his right hand leaning on the bed and his left sliding beneath the hem of your tank top. It slid up until he was cupping your bare breast, grabbing it and gently pinching at your nipple, drawing a moan from your lips.

He placed kisses all over your neck, gently biting every now and then, as his hand kept up its movements. “You always had the perfect fucking tits,” he groaned against your skin.

He sat up, his other hand joining in on your other breast. He yanked your tank top up to palm at your tits more, giving himself full view of them, thoroughly enjoying himself. Eventually he pulled the thin material over your head entirely, tossing it onto the floor carelessly.

Then he leaned forward again, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, making you moan in pleasure as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your shorts. His fingertips traced along your pussy over your panties, feeling how wet the material was already. That made him groan against your tits, sending a shock of vibrations through your sensitive nipple.

“Feels like you’ve been wanting this,” he said, satisfied with the effect he still has on you.

You didn’t even bother denying that. You wanted him desperately. His every touch was like electricity, and all you wanted was to feel him inside you again.

His hand moved up to slip beneath your panties, and you gasped when you felt his fingertips teasing over your slick folds. He moved up to press his lips to yours again, kissing you passionately as he pressed a finger against your entrance.

“Rafe…” you breathed out against his lips, and he groaned at the sound of his name on your tongue. He never got tired of it.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he asked, placing kisses around your mouth, over your cheek.

“Yes,” you promised him. You would have promised him anything in that moment, you think.

He pushed one long finger into you then, and you whined, back arching slightly. His eyes darted down to your chest at the movement, and you would have laughed at his obsession with your tits if you weren’t distracted by the feeling of his finger knuckle deep inside you.

He curled it up, pressing right up against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. You’re losing your mind from one finger - it really had been too long.

He added in another finger, stretching you further, and you felt the cold from his ring as he pushed both fingers in all the way. It sent shivers through your body. You were desperate for him to move, to just fuck you already, but he always liked to take his time with you.

After what felt like an eternity, he slowly began to pull his fingers out before pushing them back in. The pace was agonizingly slow, but he was also pushing against that perfect spot every time he thrusted his fingers all the way back inside.

“More, please,” you begged him, your eyes fluttering closed and body writhing beneath him with desperation. You began to push your hips down against his hand, begging him to move faster.

“Look at you,” he chuckled darkly, and you could hear the grin in his voice without having to open your eyes. “Fucking yourself on my fingers. You were always such a needy little slut.”

You felt yourself blushing at his dirty words, but they also only turned you on more, and you started moving your hips along the length of his fingers even faster. He groaned at the sight of you, and he began thrusting his fingers into you at a powerful pace, wanting to reward you for being good for him.

His palm pressed against your clit, rubbing against it perfectly as he kept hitting that perfect spot over and over.

You felt that familiar feeling building deep in your belly, and your thighs began trembling. Rafe noticed, picking up his movements.

“Feel good, baby? Gonna cum on my fingers?” he teased, watching your face with full interest.

“Yes,” you whined, feeling like your vision was going blurry. You felt it through every part of your body, and your pussy clenched tight around his fingers, which he couldn’t get enough of.

Your orgasm crashed through you without warning and you cried out, body arching and hips rocking against his hand even harder. Rafe worked you through it, praising you, watching you come undone on nothing but his fingers.

“Good little whore,” he praised, watching you hungrily. “You want my cock now?”

“Yes!” you answered quickly, practically yelling it. “Yes, please, Rafe.”

Satisfied with your answer, he removed his fingers from your pussy, making you whine at the empty feeling, despite the incredible orgasm you just came down from. Your eyes popped open and you made eye contact as he put his slick fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan.

He moved to his knees between your legs, pulling his own shirt over his head and tossing it away. You took in the sight of his muscular chest, toned abs, thick biceps. You felt like you were drooling over him. Your attention didn’t escape his notice, and he laughed.

His big hands slid over your smooth tanned legs, from your calves to your thighs. He squeezed them, and then he was moving even further up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and panties and pulling them down together.

When you were completely bare before him, he drank in your naked body, eyes raking over you with obvious hunger. You could see the prominent bulge in his khaki colored shorts, and you wanted so badly to reach out and touch it.

His hands moved to his belt, and he made quick work of his pants, undoing them and pushing them down his legs. He was left in his boxers, and you did reach forward then, trailing your fingers lightly over his clothed cock.

He groaned at your touch, his hips involuntarily bucking forward. He didn’t say it, but you suspected it had been a while for him, too, and the thought of that pleased you. He gripped your wrist roughly, stopping your movements but looking like he really hadn’t wanted to.

“I don’t have long today,” he said, his breathing heavy now. “Made plans. We have to be quick.”

He pushed his boxers down his thighs, revealing his cock, already painfully hard and aching, pre cum smeared at his tip. You took in the sight of it like you were starving. He was so big, it had intimidated you the first time you slept together. Hell, it intimidated you now. You wanted to take him in your mouth, but that’s not what he had in mind today.

He crawled back over you, leaning on his arms on either side of your shoulders. He leaned down to kiss you deeply, then moved to placing kisses along your jawline and down your neck, over your chest. It was nice, and you sighed at the feeling.

“You’re still on the pill, right?” he questioned as you felt his thick length pressing up against your core. You shivered at the feeling.

“Yes,” you answered. As cute as Iris was, you both could agree that you didn’t need another accidental pregnancy when you weren’t even together.

“Good,” he replied, and then he was reaching down between your bodies, lining his tip up with your entrance.

When he finally pushed inside you, you gasped at the stretch, gripping onto his biceps for leverage, which he loved. He pushed into you slowly, knowing it had been a while since you’d been together and not wanting to hurt you. When he bottomed out, he stilled, but his body was shaking like all he wanted to do was fuck into you senselessly.

You let out a shaky exhale, and he kissed you again.

“You feel so perfect, like you’re made for me,” he breathed against your lips, and you moaned at his words.

“You can move,” you told him. “I can take it.”

He groaned at that, and then he slowly pulled out until only the tip remained inside of you, and you found yourself hating the empty feeling he left behind. Then he pushed back in slowly yet powerfully with a roll of his hips, and you felt full again.

He set a gentle pace at first, rocking into you deeply but softly. He kissed you as he moved, distracting you from any potential pain, wanting to keep your focus on him and how good he makes you feel. Because no one does it like him.

“More,” you pleaded when there was no trace of pain left, and all you wanted him to do was fuck you properly. “Harder, please, Rafe.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He picked up the pace, rutting into your tight heat faster. He buried his face in your neck, groaning at the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him.

Whimpers and moans fell from your own lips uncontrollably as he fucked you hard, his cock diving even deeper into you than you remembered and making you see stars. Your nails dug into his back, leaving deep red scratches that made him hiss in a mix of pain and pleasure. He loved it when you marked him up.

His sat up more on his knees and his hands grasped the bottoms of your thighs, pushing them up until they were pressed against your chest, making it harder to breathe but also letting him fuck you at a new angle that was impossibly deep and overwhelming.

You let out a strangled moan at the new feeling, and Rafe grunted harshly with every brutal thrust into your pussy.

“Love this fucking cunt,” he grunted out through gritted teeth, a slight sheen of sweat on his tanned skin. “Always think about it. Always come back to it. Can’t fucking get enough of it.”

He moved one hand back to your clit, rubbing circles over it as he fucked you deep. You gasped, moaning loudly as he built up another orgasm in your body, that familiar heat spreading all over you.

“Rafe…’m so close…” you whined out, which only made him move even harder.

“Cum for me again, baby. All over my cock this time. You can do it, baby, I’m right here.” he’s breathing heavily as he speaks, his own release building rapidly.

The tension snaps, and you cum hard, thighs trembling around his body and his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. He worked you through it again, his fingers continuing to work circles over your clit until it became too much.

When you came down from your second high and were left a shaking mess beneath him, he moved both hands back to grip your thighs against your chest as he fucked into you roughly, chasing his own high that was so, so close.

“Gonna fill you up in a second, baby,” he grunts out, watching the way you look up at him, looking completely cock drunk because of him. “You want that?”

“Yes,” you managed to tell him, your body weak now. “Want you to cum in me deep.”

“Yeah?” he questioned, your words clearly doing something to him. “I bet you would like that. I bet you’d love if I put another baby in you, wouldn’t you, whore?”

All you could do was moan in response, taking everything he gave you. His pace began to falter, his hips stuttering as he took everything he wanted from you. He pushed into you as deep as he could, stilling, leaning forward to bury his face in your neck again as he groaned loudly and filled you deeply. You grasped the back of his head as he came inside you, holding him close.

He didn’t move for a minute when he was done. He stayed on you, catching his breath, as you held him back.

Eventually he pulled out of you, collapsing next to you with a big sigh. He wiped his hand across his forehead, breathing heavily. It was silent but for the sounds of the two of you catching your breath.

Finally, you spoke. “You really missed me, huh?” you teased him, looking over at his naked form on your bed.

He laughed, lifting himself up. “‘Course I did. I always do.” He stood from the bed and began to pull his clothes back on, tossing you yours as he found them. When he was dressed, you finally stood from the bed, still naked, about to head into the bathroom for a shower.

“I gotta get going,” Rafe said, pulling his shoes back on. “But I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah. I have to do my exam.” You watched him as he stood, his full 6’2” form towering over you.

“I’ll text you,” he said, leaning forward and placing a kiss on your cheek. It felt intimate, and it made you blush. “Give Iris kisses for me when they get home. Let me know she gets back safe.”

“I will,” you promised him.

He gave you one last smile, and then he was gone. You heard the front door closing as you gathered up some clean clothes to change into after your shower.

When you got out of the shower, you smiled to yourself as you saw the missed text from Rafe. You opened it, and rolled your eyes as you read it, but you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face anyway.

Rafey

Miss you already.

[mywritersmind]

THE BOOTH - LN4

summary : The booth. A notorious club in the heart of london, where y/n and lando met again after two years of silence.

listen up : fewtrell!reader. She sits in his lap. no smut, just hot and suggestive. creepy guy in the beginning! Prob my fav short i’ve written omg

word count : 1732

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“No.” I giggle out of uncomfortableness at the man getting closer to me.

“C’mon, let me buy you a drink.” the man reeks of alcohol and has fucked up teeth. I’ve seen enough. I pull down the bottom of my mini dress as I stand.

“No.” I repeat, pushing past him. The club is crowded and sticky, I see my friends but a hand around my wrist pulls me back.

“Really? Too good for me?” He scoffs in my face but the next thing I know he’s being pushed away from me.

“She is.” The voice comes from the man in front of me, the guy who pushed this dickhead away. “Piss off. She’s with me.”

The guy seems intimidated enough because he gives me a dirty look and leaves. “Thank y-” I pause when the man turns around.

I pause because the man is my childhood crush, brothers best friend, and fucking formula one driver.

“Lando?” I’m genuinely shocked that the britt I haven’t seen in two years is standing in front of me.

“Y/n!?” He looks me up and down, his mouth open, “Fuck… You look good.” I could say the same for him, in a navy button down, jeans, and his jewelry adorning his hands. He’s ridiculously hot.

I laugh, “Careful Lan, my brother could be lurking.” I switch my weight onto one leg as he smirks.

Max loves Lando. Max loves me.

Therefore, Max HATED the thought of us even speaking. We were all friends in childhood but our teens hit and suddenly I was completely off limits. I’m pretty sure he noticed how much I asked about Lando and swore that he would kill both of us if anything happened.

Someone walks behind him, causing him to get closer, his hand brushing against my hip, “Don’t scare me, yeah?”

I bite my lip at the thought, we start walking across the room, Lando’s hand firmly on me now as he ��guides’ me. “Don’t worry. Idiots in Monaco… which means we have free rein.”

I see his jaw clench, his drink slide onto his lips again, “I’d like to keep my friendship.”

“I’d like to lose my panties.” I’m quick to reply, messing with Lando used to be my favorite thing.

You see, Lando is Max’s best friend. He feels bad lying and this would definitely be considered a betrayal of trust.

But for me… Max is my brother. I can lie and do whatever I want with no remorse. Lando is something I could do easily and as much as it would make me happy to piss off my brother, Norris has always been that one guy in the back of my mind.

“Christ Y/n. Missed your remarks.” We make it to the wall, it’s a bit quieter over here.

“You mean you missed my flirting?” I look up at him, he just bites his lip, hiding his smile.

“I missed you.” He surprises me with this.

“I missed you too.” I push my hand through my hair, “How’ve you been?”

“Good. Really good.” He smiles big and I know it’s because of his racing.

“Watched your win in Zandvoort.” I sigh, “Simply lovely was brutal.” He rolls his eyes, laughing and leaning his head back on the wall.

“Not you too!”

“It was hilarious! I liked it!” I hit his arm and the way he looks at me… it’s like every emotion that I've tucked away and only opened up in the darkness of my bedroom after midnight, comes out then. “I like this too.”

My hand goes to the back of his neck, playing with his curls that shape his baby mullet.

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, his eyes cut into me, his voice weak.

“What?” I say innocently.

“You always do this.”

“Do what, Norris?” Lando never was that much taller than me, but something about the two passed years has changed that.

His tongue runs over his teeth, he’s about to say something but two guys appear next to us, “Mate! We’ve been looking for you!” Another British man speaks, Alex Albon to be exact.

“Found a friend?” Carlos sainz eyes me, dressed in all black.

I smile at the drivers, Lando eyes Carlos. “Max’s sister. Y/n.” They both nod and look much too interested in how Lando says it, “Y/n… this is Alex and Carlos.”

“Pleasure.” I smile wide. I am an F1 fan, it’s a bit weird seeing Lando on the grid but I’ll sit and watch with Max almost every weekend that we’re together.

“Pleasures all ours! I’ve always wanted to meet Lando’s childhood crush!” Lando hits Carlos, making him grab his stomach, “Worth it!” The Spanish man chokes out.

Lando scratches the back of his neck, not looking at me. “Are you here with anyone?” Alex asks me, I knew he would be nice.

“Yeah! I’m not sure where they are but…”

“That’s okay. You have us now!” Alex and I end up getting a drink, Lando stays back with Carlos who’s definitely teasing him.

I get a vodka lemonade and four shots. Alex and I are already best friends and laughing so hard that Carlos and Lando won’t stop asking us what’s so funny.

They don’t know that I showed Alex a photo of Lando and I as smurfs when we were five.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

LANDO NORRIS

Describing Y/n is something i’ve done many times. To friends, for context in stories, but if i’d really describe her… I don’t think I would have an ending point.

She’s got long blonde hair. She cut it all off when she was fifteen and I almost fainted when I didn’t recognize her. She loved it.

She’s confident, you can see it in her walk. Her hips sway and the click of her heels is something I'll never forget.

When she talks to you, all attention is on you, her eyes are hazel, appearing brown in the dark but if you get close enough… you’ll see the green.

She never quite had an awkward stage, always been beautiful, probably always will be. I haven’t seen her in years yet she acts like I talked to her yesterday.

Y/n sucks on a lime after her shot, smiling and clapping her hands together, “God, I feel like i’m in highschool!”

I obviously didn’t go to school with her. She’s a year younger and Max would non stop complain about her. She was more popular than him, going out, and was basically friends with everyone.

I remind myself again that Max is the reason why my arm is around the couch and not her waist.

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Y/N

“Norris!” I stand, holding out my hand, “Picture time.” I smile as he stands with me.

“What?” Carlos asks.

“Called the booth for a reason, Sainz!” I grin at the boys, gripping Lando’s hand tight and maneuvering us through the crowd.

There’s one photo booth in the back corner of the club. It’s notorious for famous photos and making everyone look good.

I look back at the boys who all look confused. All except Lando.

We came to the booth when Lando was in town from F2, we were 17 and 18. Max had gone off with some girl and we found ourselves in this exact booth.

We swore never to talk about it.

But I’m all for repeating history.

“Fewtrell…” He warns in my ear as we walk to the starred booth.

I glance back, dragging out his name, “Norris.”

He gets in first, unlike us as teens, only one person can fit. I smile and watch Lando’s face drop, I sit down on his lap, “Playing with fire here, love.” he says in my ear.

“I don’t mind getting burned.” He slips two coins in, his hand moving to my waist and holding me steady.

We smile first.

SNAP

I move a bit and give him bunny ears.

SNAP

Lando clears his throat, gripping my skin tighter as he looks at me. I move again, my skirt riding up a bit. “Trying to kill me?”

I smile and kiss his cheek, feeling something hard against me.

SNAP

“Of course.” I look at him, “The memories in here… You remember?”

“I’d be an idiot to forget.”

His hand moves down my hip, closer to my thigh. I look at him again as the photo booth starts up for the second time, “I shouldn’t.” He whispers, my face centimeters from his. I hear the whistles outside.

I shift once more, turning more to him. He groans, his head falling backwards and his eyes closing, “Give me a good reason.”

SNAP

He opens his eyes, meeting mine. I know I've got him. My hand rests on his neck, my rings pressing against his skin. He mumbles something but it’s too loud, “Speak up, Norris.”

“Never spoken.” His eyes flick to my lips, trying to get me to promise this is a secret.

“Never ever.” He leans in closer.

SNAP

“Come on rule breaker… I believe in you.” I whisper in his ear and it breaks him. I’m pulling his head closer to me, his lips on mine, a relief like no other.

He grabs ass, pulling me closer in the tiny space. I slip my tongue in his mouth, whimpering a bit. He bites my lip. I’m melting into him. It’s hot and needy but so much more than I could have ever wanted.

SNAP

Kissing Lando at Seventeen was scandalous and drunken. Kissing Lando at Twenty Three flat out sexy.

“Need you…” He whispers into the kiss which makes me almost come undone right then and there.

Someone bangs on the booth, “Alright Lovebirds!” Lando laughs but I'm the one to pull away.

“I can’t leave this booth.” He says quickly, his face red and sweaty.

“You’ll be fine-” I understand what he’s talking about when I go to leave and something brushes against my leg, “Oh.”

He looks away from me, blushing.

I smile, proud of myself for the boner and his pink cheeks, “Aw come on! I’ll cover you.” I wink and he rolls his eyes, He walks out behind me, his arms firmly on my waist again.

The two drivers grin at us, “You covering a boner?” Carlos starts but gets punched for the second time tonight by Lando. He holds his stomach again, “Still worth it!”

[heyitsoak]

MOVIE SHADOW X READER HEADCANONS

Gender neutral reader

Just finished watching Sonic 3 and it was awesome!! Haven’t seen anyone written for movie Shadow yet sooo.. 👀

Warnings?: No spoilers for the movie in this! But maybe him being out of character, I haven’t wrote anything in years lol

- I feel like his love languages would be quality time and physical touch, he wouldn’t be used to touch at first but would gradually warm up to it. Definitely wouldn’t be the type to be over the top with public affection. Maybe handholding or a hand on your waist in public, but that’s probably it

- Might would be one to get jealous, needs reassurance that you’re not leaving and that you love him, truly. He’s been through a lot and needs to know that you’re not leaving him too

- Likes looking at the stars with you!! Reminds me of that one meme

“Do u like stars?”

“Ya, they’re cool”

- Likes to watch moves with you too! Just please don’t have him watch movies that have ‘aliens’ that are considered bad guys in it :( Just watch cat videos on YouTube with him, he’d be content with that

- Try and show him video games! He’d be really confused on how the controls work, a lot has changed in fifty years

- I feel like he’d like the game Stray, cause cats!! I feel like he absolutely loves cats. Would also probably like Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon and Animal Crossing. Anything that’s a calm game where you can just do whatever

- Speaking of cats.. he’d love going to a cat cafe with his s/o, would probably want to take them all home afterwards though

- Would end up having a black cat come up to him, rubbing against him and purring. He’d just pick up the cat and ask

“..can we take him home?”

- You can’t say no to Shadow, especially when he’s holding a cat in his hands.. so needless to say, you guys have a new pet now

- But besides cafe dates, just staying at home and cuddling would be perfectly fine with him as a date, anywhere with you, he’s happy

- I feel like he’d genuinely be a really good boyfriend, just takes him time to warm up a bit and get more comfortable with romantic stuff

- And motorcycle rides!! They’d be so fun, but if you get scared if he ever goes too fast, just ask for him to slow down or go a normal speed, he’d probably listen (cause it’s you)

- Gets all blushy and flustered when it comes to physical affection and kisses, he’s not used to it but he loves it

- He’d also like music, specifically older songs. Likes to put vinyls on a record player and dance with you to the song :’)) even if you don’t know how to dance, he’ll try and guide you

Not really sure what else to add here! Hopefully this was good, sorry if it was out of character :’)

I absolutely love Shadow so much, he’s such a cool character and looked so amazing in the movie