#like please . take your skin elsewhere... thank you <333

[keeps-ache]

i don't know what it is but there are thoughts in my brain. more at 11- oh wait it's already 11.. uhh 12. maybe!

[libraryofloveletters]

Hi! Can you please write Lewis with the prompt "You're like my child, call me daddy.... never mind, that sounds wrong” ?

(… although does it sound so wrong? 😏 lmfaoo)

Truly, thank you so much for doing this celebration and congratulations on 4k! 💞

thank you so much!! <333, also this one stumped lmao, took me a whole hot minute to figure it out. // prompt: "You're like my child, call me daddy.... never mind, that sounds wrong.” -- warning: the word daddy being using a sexual context but no actually explicit content

Your little boy was asleep on his father’s chest, the two of them having skin to skin time. You were sat beside your husband, watching as he softly pats the baby boy’s back, humming to him. 

Your baby boy has his father's eyes, his hair curly from the day he was born and the rest of him was a perfect mix of the two of you. 

Lewis was the first one to hold him when he was born - a bond created for life. The look on Lewis’s face that day didn’t compare to any other moment in his life, he told you as much. 

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” You whisper, fixing the sock on his little foot. 

“Truly.” Lewis whispers back, leaning to kiss you. 

The little boy stirs, shifting in his father’s arms before settling back down. “You always take such good care of him,” you mumble the random thought in your head. 

“You do too. I can’t thank you enough.” He whispers. 

“For what?” 

Lewis gestures to the sleeping baby. “You gave me a child, a son. Someone to follow in my footsteps, if he wants too.” 

“If we had a daughter, would it had been different ?” You ask, knowing he meant and wished for your son to take up karting and then racing. 

Motorsport was in his blood, his legacy built from the moment you found out you were pregnant. 

He was a Hamilton after all. 

“No, I would want the same for her. If that’s what she wanted.” He tells you. 

“I want that too, Lew. Little ones running around in their race suits just like daddy.” You smiled, “I thought about it too, how cool it would be for them to have two parents that both raced.” 

You and Lewis had been together since you were teenagers, barely 15 years old and in love. You had karted when you were a kid, that’s how you met Lewis but yours was more of a hobby, your parents wanting you to focus elsewhere - but you wouldn’t trade what you had now for anything else. 

“Yeah?” Lewis smiles, “I mean I could always reteach you, you're like my child, call me daddy.... never mind, that sounds wrong.” The words come out in a ramble, and you look at the man, confused before you start laughing. 

“What?” 

“I don't know, mouth worked a little faster than my brain there,” he laughed. 

“Clearly,” you rest a hand on his thigh, “but I mean... I do call you that, don't you remember how we ended up with this little one?” You smile. 

Lewis peeks at the baby, sound asleep. He gets up, putting the baby boy in his bouncer before rejoining you on the couch. “I think you might need to refresh my memory,” he whispers, kissing you as he pulls you onto his lap. 

“Okay daddy.” You smile. 

[thebeautyoffanfics]

WAAAH I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THE REQUEST TT^TT TO THE ANON WHO WISHED FOR THE TERU X READER, ANGST TO FLUFF, HERE IT ISS;; I'M SO SORRY;;;;;

teru minamoto x gn!reader

a/n: thank you so much for being patient and understanding, though I’m still so sorry for how long this took;;!! It really does mean a lot, so truly- thank you for that, and for the encouragement <3! But!! Of course, I’m a bit of a sucker for angst to fluff, tho I don’t write it too often, so I hope it turns out alright! Thank you so much for requesting, and for your encouragement!!! <3 <333

warnings: self deprecating thoughts..?

word count: 1,848

Your eyes drifted around the room. Person to person, conversation to conversations. Yet, you sat at your desk, lunch in front of you, completely alone. You had a boyfriend, yes, but you didn’t even know where on earth he could be… no, he usually sat with you during lunch. However, today he walked up to you, announcing that he had to attend to something during lunch. He asked if you could eat your lunch without him today, and… well, who were you to say no?

The bell rang, and your lunch remained barely touched. You were sure you wouldn’t have been so dramatic normally- however, it felt as if Teru was practically avoiding you at this point. In fact, it almost felt like he was ditching you for someone else. The thought was enough to make you feel nauseous- both because of it being unpleasant, and because you felt bad for simply thinking it. Teru was a good person. You wouldn’t have fallen for him if he wasn’t. Still, he was only human… and, in your head, there were many other humans out there much more fit for Teru. She was one of them.

Her hair flowed alongside her. Her skin was practically flawless. Her teeth weren’t crooked, and her smile was… frankly, flawless. Good grades, good body, good personality. A lovely match for the prince of the school. A princess suited just for him.

Yet, he seemed to stick with the… well- what was the opposite of a princess? A… troll? You did suppose that, compared to someone like that, a troll was a fair enough comparison. Nothing but a creature in the face of such beauty.

The worst part, you were sure, was the fact that Teru did spend time with her. In fact, you were confident that she “needed him” for something during lunch, causing him to miss out on yet another thing. As if grabbing his attention after school during club activities wasn’t enough. As if going to him constantly to ask for help on things you were positive she was perfectly good at. Her grades were nearly as good as his… was it because he helped her? In that case, why were your grades still lower…? Teru helped you study plenty of times- and, while your grades did get better, you were sure you couldn’t get all 99s and 100s. It was impossible for someone who couldn’t be any form of royalty.

You leaned over, placing your lunch back into the box, then shoving the box into your bookbag. Once you sat up, the classroom door was pushed open- as it usually was. It was right after lunch, after all. However, when you saw two familiar people step in, you began to wish that the door never opened. If only it had been locked- if only someone got distracted. If only you looked down just a bit longer. But, it was done- there was no going back, no need to go back, on such a tiny detail.

In stepped the “Princess”, the “Prince” following her- he even held the door open. It was a basic act of chivalry, yes, but the lack of it around you only made him that much more like a prince… Yes, he wasn’t kind to just you. He treated everyone with kindness, as a normal person should. That little act shouldn’t have made you feel that twinge of jealousy- of doubt- spark in your mind.

“(Y/N), were you able to enjoy lunch?” Teru asked, taking a seat next to you. At least he was still acknowledging you.

“Mmh… I’m not really hungry, haha.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly, concern crossing onto his beautiful features.

“Are you feeling alright? I don’t want you to wind up hungry later…”

Of course, the concern on his face was no longer in your direction- his expression changing slightly as the unfortunately familiar girl called his name. Though she spoke to him, his eyes drifted in your direction several times.

“Teru, I was wondering if you could let me borrow your notes from second hour? The teacher was speaking so fast, ahaha~. I don’t know how you keep up, really!”

“Oh? Of course, I don’t mind. If you’d please return them when you’re done though,” Teru spoke, grabbing a notebook from his bag, then handing them to her. He’d surely let you borrow his notes too, so… she wasn’t special. Though it was a bit surprising that someone that bright couldn’t keep up with the teacher’s far-too-fast method of teaching. When you opened your mouth to make a comment you already knew you shouldn’t, the teacher entered, as if prompting you to keep your emotions in check.

The rest of the day passed nearly the same as the first half did. Teru’s attention constantly elsewhere, though he did seem to at least try to keep it on you. Hey, you were used to that much… everyone wanted his attention. You couldn’t be the one to deny them of it. Yes, it was normal. That’s what you told yourself, as you stepped into the hallway, making your way towards the student council room. Finally, you’d have a chance to be with Teru, no one out to beg for his attention. Well- Akane would be there, but- honestly, you were plainly aware of his… distaste towards your boyfriend. Really, you didn’t mind it. At least it was someone not trying to take any attention you got at school away from you.

“Yeah! With the way that girl seems to be all over him! I think they’re dating?”

“No, no, isn’t he dating (Y/N)?”

“I think he was? But, he doesn’t really seem to spend as much time with her, you know.”

You shut your locker, the sound echoing much louder than you thought you intended. The conversation ceased, as the two engaged in it glanced in your direction, one muttering some profanity under their breath. Still, you picked up your bag, not wanting to drag two strangers into your personal business. All you had to do was establish that you were the one dating Teru, right? And the first step was… making sure Teru still wanted to date. Despite how you tried to calm and reassure yourself as your legs carried you quickly to the school council room, you could feel a mix of frustration, fear, sadness, and insecurity bubbling up in your stomach. Why was he spending so much time with her? Was she better than you? Did he like her more than you? Of course, how could someone like him choose you…? If you were in his shoes, you were sure you’d pick the other girl…

Soon, you stood in front of the room. Though you reached for the doorknob confidently at first, you froze once your hand was about to rest on it. Nerves were practically eating at you, your heart racing so quickly that you felt dizzy. Heck- when was the last time you were this nervous? When was the last time your emotions ran this rampant?

Gathering your emotions as best as you could, you opened the door.

“(Y/N), good afternoon,” Teru greeted, giving you his usual, sweet smile. Did he smile at the other girl like that?

You didn’t want to lose that smile…

“Teru,” You muttered, voice cracking a bit as tears finally filled your eyes. Instantly, those smiling eyes of his were filled with concern. He was so easily concerned for you. Did he worry for her that easily?

“(Y/N)? What happened-? What’s wrong?” He questioned, standing up and rushing over towards you. Once you noticed that Akane hadn’t arrived yet, Teru reached behind you, one arm resting on your shoulder as he locked any potential intruders out. He knew you wouldn’t want anyone to bother you, if something was upsetting you enough to cry like this in front of him.

“Teru, do you still want to be with me?”

“What? (Y/N), of course-” “Be honest, Teru. If you don’t wanna, then don’t lie to me, please. I understand. I’m not as pretty as her- and I’m not as smart, I know. And she’s popular, like you. And she can talk to people easily, and she’s fit, and thin, and she’s got a pretty, normal smile… a-and I know I’m nothing like her, so I understand. She and I are complete opposites, Teru, so I’m positive she’s more your type.”

“(Y/N), calm down,” Teru spoke, both of his hands now resting on your shoulders, thumbs moving comfortingly. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, but I assure you-”

“You’ve been skipping on things we’ve done since we became friends to spend time with her, Teru. Just today, the two of you spent time together during lunch-”

“Her? (Y/N), darling, you’re joking.”

Your eyes filled further with tears, as you shook your head in frustration. “I’m not joking, Teru!”

“(Y/N), please, sweetheart. Calm down, let me explain, alright? Here, let’s sit down?”

Teru led you to a chair, sitting you in it carefully, then crouching next to you, his hands holding both of yours.

“She’s just trying to get some extracurricular things done, relating to her education. Yes, when she needs help, which I’ll admit has been frequently lately, I told her to go to me. I wasn’t expecting her to need this much help, but I didn’t want to go back on my word. Here, if you’d like, I’ll explain to her that I’m a bit too busy to help all the time. I’ll get Akane to step in a bit, is that alright?”

You sniffled, thinking about what he said. Still, as you processed it, you nodded. Poor Akane indeed, but… you felt slightly relieved.

“Next, you know you’re more my type than anyone, (Y/N). Really, sweetie, I only show her basic human kindness. Even when she gets irritating… with you, I never feel annoyed or irritated. Plus, I can actually express how I feel around you- listen, would I admit to anyone else that I find one of our classmates annoying at times?”

“I’m sure you’d tell anyone how you felt about Akane,” You joked lightheartedly, laughing to yourself. Teru’s slight smile grew to a grin, as he closed his eyes.

“Mmm, maybe? But he’s a different story. Still, I love you, (Y/N). You’re plenty smart- and, if you don’t think so, then who cares? Your lack of confidence in yourself means I get to help you study- and you always end up doing just fine. You’re more than plenty gorgeous- I love everything about you. Your smile, your hair, your skin, your body type, anything and everything. You’re perfect, (Y/N). Perfect for the world, and absolutely perfect for me.”

This time, when you felt your eyes get watery, they weren’t tears of sadness or worry. When you hugged Teru, sniffling lightly once again, he could feel you smile against his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for assuming things, Teru-”

“Ah-ah. No need to apologize, (Y/N). Really, you have no reason to apologize… you’re fine, darling.”

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

If you’re still looking for chubby Az prompts, I’ve got millions 😂 I think he might be reluctant taking off his shirt in front of Crowley for the first time and Crowley keeps trying to sniff out why he’s avoiding it every time they’re about to do anything- and eventually Az admits it’s because he doesn’t want him to be “disappointed.” It baffles Crowley, and breaks his heart. Obviously, he has to set his angel to rights and try to make sure that Az never feels that way ever again

(Ahhhhh look at me i filled a prompt!!! This was so so soooo lovely!!!! i hope you like it my dear!!!! <<<333 Thank you so much for sending it! and the other one which i will get too!!!!!! thank you thank you thank you! enjoy!!!)

Ao3

Rainy Day Insecurities

Something was wrong.

The world had been saved. They’d gotten their shit together. Crowley had moved into the bookshop with his angel. And said angel had finally made a move. Crowley had taken it well. He definitely hadn’t cried. And even if he had… that’s beside the point. The point was. Something was wrong. Things had been good. And are good. Aside from one little thing. There was a problem.

They’d been… more intimate lately. In fact, two days ago, Aziraphale had intimately pressed him into a bookshelf after hours and shattered him to pieces, and then put him back together again. There were still scorch marks on the shelf Crowley had been holding onto for dear life. He knew Aziraphale could miracle them away. Was confused about why he hadn’t, until he saw him walk past the shelf, his eyes passing over the blackened wood, a smirk curling his lips. He’d left them there on purpose. A memory. Crowley had shivered, his entire body trembling at the memory, and at the look Aziraphale had given him after smirking at the shelf. But that wasn’t the problem. It was, in fact, the exact opposite of a problem, in Crowley’s opinion. No. The problem was, Aziraphale’s shirt.

As problems go it was a small one. But that was just the tip of the problem, there was something else. Something under the shirt. Some underlying issue that Aziraphale had been refusing to address. Any time Crowley tried to remove his shirt, the angel directed his hands elsewhere. And while Crowley was perfectly fine taking whatever Aziraphale gave him, shirtless or not, he could tell there was something else. Something deeper. He could feel it. And he could feel Aziraphale pushing it away. Hiding it deep. Burying it inside himself so that neither he, nor Crowley, could see it.

Crowley had this nagging little itch to go digging.

~*~

Aziraphale had his hands in Crowley’s hair, fingers tugging and soothing in a constant rhythm that was driving Crowley mad. Aziraphale had pulled him close, hours ago it seemed now. Pulled him in, nestled him between his thighs and held him there. And Crowley had left himself be pulled, nearly always did, letting Aziraphale take the lead, holding Crowley where he wanted him. His Jacket was gone. Crowley made quick work of it. The vest was next, now crumpled on the floor. Crowley’s nimble fingers had undone the fly on the angel’s pants in record time. He’d then snapped his fingers to remove the pants entirely. Aziraphale had pulled away from his mouth then, given him a look. Crowley closed the space again, mumbling something about not wanting to move. Aziraphale laughed into his mouth and pulled him closer still, fingers curling against Crowley’s scalp, making him shiver.

Crowley almost didn’t try it. Didn’t want to ruin the mood. Because he wanted this. He wanted his angel. Wanted to see what new way he’d thought of to completely turn him into a shaking mess. But the little voice in his head, the annoying one who was almost always chattering about Aziraphale’s this or that, had egged him on. And so, his hands moved slowly over Aziraphale’s sides, he gave his hips a rough squeeze and smiled against Aziraphale’s mouth when he writhed under the touch, pressing up into Crowley with a moan. His hands moved further, over the angel’s soft stomach, and found the buttons on his shirt. Aziraphale’s hands were on his wrists immediately. Fingers wrapped around his wrists gently.

“Crowley.” His voice a whisper against Crowley’s lips.

“What?” he whispered back, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth.

“Don’t.” Was the answer he received, and he felt his angel tense beneath him, in front of him, both beneath and little in front of him. He pulled back, putting more space between them so he could look at Aziraphale.

“Why not?” he pushed. He knew he was pushing. Knew this would make his angel uncomfortable. But he couldn’t help it. That itch to dig up what was bothering him was too strong. Aziraphale’s grip tightened, he pushed Crowley back even further.

“Crowley please.” He was begging now. His eyes not meeting Crowley’s. His hands gone from the demon’s skin, they were now tangled in his own lap, his eyes locked on them.

“Angel what’s wrong? I don’t understand.” Crowley pleaded, his hands open in front him, like he was waiting to be handed something, and in a way, he was. Aziraphale looked at him. His eyes much harder than they’d been in a very long while.

“There’s nothing to understand.” He sighed, through gritted teeth, snapping his fingers, his pants and vest back on him in an instant. Crowley made a sound in his throat and surged forward, stopping the angel from getting up, from walking away. His fingers now wrapped around the angels’ wrist.

“Please. There is. I can feel it. Every time I try to take your shirt off you stop me. Or move my hands somewhere else. And I’m not complaining, I enjoy whatever we do, shirt or no shirt I just…” he trailed off, moving to sit beside the angel, who was staring at him, eyes wide and clouded with what looked like suspicion. Crowley hated that.

“I can feel… something. Something bad. When I try to take your shirt off, something inside you. And I just- I want to understand.” He moved one hand up Aziraphale’s arm, over his shoulder, to press against his neck.

“I want to help. If I can.” He moved his thumb over Aziraphale’s jaw, and watched the angel watch him. He looked at him for a long moment. A very long moment. But Crowley didn’t move. He’d stay that way forever if he had to, until his angel was ready. Aziraphale deflated with a sigh, pressing into Crowley’s soft touch on his neck like a cat.

“It’s so stupid.” The angel said, a huff of laughter escaped him and then Crowley smelled it, salt. Aziraphale was crying.

“It’s not stupid if it’s hurting you, angel. You’re in pain. Please just tell me what’s wrong.” He moved his other hand to Aziraphale’s shoulder and pulled him close, arms wrapping around him, shielding him. But Crowley was having a sinking feeling that whatever it was that was bothering his angel, he may not be able to protect him from it. Aziraphale pulled away, just enough to look at him.

“Thank you my dear.” He smiled sadly, his eyes wet with tears.

“I just- I don’t want you to be… disappointed.” Aziraphale said, pulling away a bit more. Crowley let him, wanted him to have as much space as he needed.

“Disappointed?” Crowley echoed, confusion pulling his brows together. Aziraphale huffed and stood up, leaving Crowley on the couch to stare up at him.

“With this!” he moved his hands toward himself, up over the length of his body and then back down. Crowley’s frown deepened, he was terribly confused.

“With…” he started, not sure what to say, he had no clue what was happening. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing. This seemed to agitate the angel more, he sighed again, frustrated now.

“With me! With this body! It’s not- it’s not exactly in the best shape! Not like it once was. I’ve gone soft down here, on earth. Eating all that ridiculous food when I should have been preparing for a war. Oh it’s ridiculous Crowley. Please, just… forget about it.” he waved his hand, a tear falling as he turned away.

“Angel. I’m-“ he didn’t want to say he was confused. Though he still was. Aziraphale seemed the perfect shape to him. All soft edges and warm beautiful curves. He’d been hypnotized the moment he’d seen the angel standing on the wall, all those years ago. Looking so very touchable as the light had hit him just so. But he didn’t know what to say to not upset him.

“I like it.” is what came out. Blurted out awkwardly. Not said with any kind of softness, but he’d always been bad at that. He was good at shouting. He did it often. Words would flash though his mind and his mouth would open and they’d just force themselves out, over his forked tongue, past his teeth, and out into the open they’d go. And it would seem, though the situation was serious, his brain and mouth were still the same as they’d always been. Aziraphale turned to him, his eyebrows high.

“Pardon?’ he asked, his hands resting gently in the pockets of his vest.

“I said,” he cleared his throat and pushed himself off the couch.

“I like it. Your… shape. Or what have you.” He flailed his hand awkwardly in Aziraphale’s direction. The angel scoffed and turned away again.

“Really now, you don’t have to do that. I know how I look.” His voice was dismissive. Crowley growled inwardly. He was going to have try harder. Much much harder. And he could do it. He knew he could. Maybe not for everyone. He’d certainly never tried hard for hell. But for his angel. He could do it. Just this once. And then any time in the future. Whenever his angel might need more reassurance.

“I really don’t think you do.” He mumbled, mostly to himself, but he knew Aziraphale could hear him. Knew he’d pick up on the tone in his voice, the exasperation, the hidden just beneath skin, wanting. He watched Aziraphale turn toward him, just the slightest, smallest, tiniest, bit. He could see his face in the reflection of the dark bookshop window, the rain falling outside distorting his features the smallest bit, but he could see that expression. The one that meant he was listening, begrudgingly, Crowley was intimately familiar with that look.

“Oh no?” the angel asked, over his shoulder, his voice dripping with sarcasm, flippant even.

“No.” Crowley confirmed, his voice low in his throat as he began to walk, slowly, toward the angel.

“You really don’t.” he wiped his palms on his thighs and took another step.

“Because if you could see what I see. There would be no doubt in your mind. None at all.” He stared at Aziraphale’s reflection in the window, watched it staring back at him, brows creased in concentration now.

“Oh?” the angel asked, his shoulders swaying a bit more to the side. Crowley could feel him wanting to turn. But their eyes were locked in the window and it was like he couldn’t look away. Crowley smirked, satisfied that what he was attempting might actually work, and nodded.

“Yeah. Because what I see. Every time I look at you. Is beautiful.” He was close enough to touch the angel now, but he held back, kept his arms by his sides, traitorous hands twitching against his thighs.

“Your clothes don’t hide what’s underneath them angel. Not really. They cover you, but they don’t hide you away. And I know you try.” He sighs, close enough now the he could pull the angel to his chest. He doesn’t. He stops. Just inches away, and moves his hands to Aziraphale’s shoulders, rests them there and smiles, a small thing, when the angel sighs at the touch, eyes falling closed in the reflection on the window.

“You try so hard. All these thick, soft, layers, you cover yourself with. But I can still see it angel. I can still see you. All softness and curves.” Aziraphale tenses under his hands, Crowley presses his fingers into his shoulder and moves his hands down.

“It’s the curves you’re worried about then?” he asks, pressing forward, his nose pressing into the angel’s hair. Aziraphale shivers at the breath tickling his neck, and nods.

“Well I like them. A lot. Always have.” He moves his hands again, slowly pressing them under Aziraphale’s arms to wrap around his waist, resting his palms flat against his stomach.

“From the day I saw you standing on that wall. The light was hitting your robes so perfectly. Lighting you up. Making you shine. And I could see everything angel. All your curves, all the softness. Everything I could ever want to touch. Shining in that light, like it was waiting for me.” He moved his fingers deftly over the well-worn buttons of Aziraphale’s vest, pushing each one through slowly, with meaning, making Aziraphale shiver as he pressed against his back.

“Crowley.” He breathed, and it sounded as if was admonishing him.

“Hmm?” he hummed, nosing at the angel’s ear, making him shiver again.

“You couldn’t honestly see everything.” He turned in Crowley’s grasp, just enough to look at him.

“Everything angel.” He said, voice just a rumble in his throat now.

“And I wanted it.” a whisper as he pressed forward. His nose brushing Aziraphale’s as he groaned and bit his lip, turning away from Crowley again.

“Really my dear-“

“I did. I wanted you. All of you.” He moved fast then, snaking his way around Aziraphale, to stand in front of him, the backs of his thighs bumping the table of books they’d been standing in front of.

“Still do.” His fingers slipped under the angel’s vest, hands moving over that soft white shirt underneath, pushing the vest off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Aziraphale’s cheeks were red, his neck growing red as well as Crowley looked at him. His fingers resting on the buttons of that white shirt. Buttons that he longed undo.

“What’s under this shirt, could never. Ever. Disappoint me.” He lifted his eyebrows, for emphasis, looking at his angel with determination. Aziraphale swallowed hard.

“I know the curves under this shirt. I know them. I’ve seen them for 6000 years angel. And wanted them. Wanted to look at them.” He pushed a button through, waited for Aziraphale to stop him. Smiled when he didn’t.

“Wanted to touch them.” Another button, pushed gently through. Aziraphale shivered again.

“Wanted to kiss them.” Another button followed whispered words.

“Aziraphale.” His hands stopped, for a moment. The angel’s wide eyes moved from his hands to his face.

“Hmm?” This small hum, barely audible over the rain pounding against the windows and their hearts pounding in their chest.

“Tell me to stop. And I’ll stop.” Another button, and another. He reached Aziraphale’s neck, pulled his bow tie loose with one hand, making Aziraphale groan again. The last button. Crowley’s eyes searched Aziraphale’s face. The angel nodded, though he was trembling beneath Crowley’s gentle touch. He pushed the last button through, smiling softly as he moved his hands down, parting the angel’s shirt, at long last exposing parts of his angel he’d been longing to see.

Aziraphale moved then. Finally. His hands coming to rest on Crowley’s wrists again.

“I- I don’t-“ he huffed a laugh again, clearly flustered and out of words.

“You’re beautiful.” Crowley sighed, his eyes not moving from Aziraphale’s chest and stomach. The angel huffed again and Crowley did look up. His eyes hard suddenly, the yellow in them having long since bled out to engulf his eyes.

“You are. So beautiful.” He moved his hands, pressed them past the shirt to touch, a searing press of skin against skin. Aziraphale gasped at the touch.

“All of you.” Crowley breathed, staring into Aziraphale’s eyes as his thumbs brushed small circles into the soft skin on his angel’s stomach.

“Every.” A kiss. Pressed gently to the angel’s forehead.

“Single.” Two kisses. One for each eyelid.

“Inch.” Another kiss. Pressed to Aziraphale’s lips this time. Deepened by the angel, pulling him close frantically, humming into his mouth as Crowley touched and touched and touched him. Hands moving over soft skin, fingers pressing in, pulling closer, sounds dragged through clenched teeth. They moved together, pushing and pulling in a maddening rhythm until they were both panting on the floor, the rain covered windows now covered in fog, the heat pouring off Crowley something he could never control. Aziraphale rested on top of Crowley, they lay there, pressed chest to chest, the shirt long forgotten.

Crowley moved his fingers slowly up and down Aziraphale’s back, relishing the feeling of soft skin beneath his fingers. Aziraphale sighed, his body a wonderful steady weight on Crowley’s chest.

“Alright angel?” he asked, voice muddied with affection and afterglow. The angel sighed again, and nuzzled into his chest before shifting, laying his hands flat on Crowley’s chest, resting his chin on them and looking at him.

“More than alright I think.” He hummed, smiling up at him. Crowley moved his hand to the angel’s cheek, his fingers moving gently into his sweaty hair.

“How do you always know?” he asked, looking at Crowley with love in his eyes. Crowley shrugged, pouting his lips momentarily, before smiling fondly down at him.

“You’re easy angel. Always have been.” He shrugs again, just one shoulder moving against the rug on the bookshop floor.

“I’m easy?” Aziraphale gapes, his face full of accusation and cheer.

“Well..” Crowley moves his hand in their general direction, motioning over them both sprawled on the floor, naked.

“Obviously.” He settles his hand on Aziraphale’s back again.

The angel looks at him. For a long moment, eyes moving slowly over Crowley’s face to the point where he nearly starts squirming under the scrutiny, and then he’s laughing. Full belly laughing, his head falls back to Crowley’s chest as he clings to him. Crowley watches him for a moment, soaks in the happiness flooding off his angel, filling the air around them with a pleasant warm feeling. And then he joins him, the laugh bubbling up from his chest, where his angel lies.

They lay there, curled together, full of happiness, and love. And they laugh.

[tearoomsaloon]

That Reylo fic about the scar kink and killer emperor is so sweet and romantic! 😍❤️thank you for writing it!

Thank youHere’s another, because I love that au too

“And what’s this one from?”

He lay on his stomach, bare back exposed to her curious hands. Rey sat beside him, the growing starlight outlining her shape whenever he peeked a look. She had been dressing his newest wound, a long red slash that ran from his shoulder blade to his tailbone. Easily distracted, her attention shifted to the numerous scars marking his body.

“Which one?”

She traced a curve over his ribs that snaked down his back. “This one.”

“Nexu. My father tried keeping them for a while, Mom wasn’t too happy after one nicked me.

“This is more than a nick.”

“She wasn’t trying to hurt me; I fell.”

Rey’s hair floated across his skin when she dipped to kiss the thickened tissue. Her fingers wandered to his lower back “This one here is almost maroon.”

“Blaster.”

“It looks nothing like the bolt wound on your chest.”

“That one is from a much bigger weapon.”

She kissed the smaller welt anyway. “I don’t like that you have either of them.”

“Of course you don’t; you don’t like any of my scars.”

“You shouldn’t either.”

But he did. They were signs of power, symbols of his strength. What could be said of an emperor who stayed put in his war rooms? Who never saw battle with his army? A coward. He would not be seen as weakling, a milksop who hid from the crueler aspects of his reign.

“They show that I can protect you. You’ve married a powerful man, my dear.”

“I was coerced into marrying an emperor who wears blood streaked in his hair as a decoration. Who originally said I should take a lover and leave until we had to grow a child in a glass tube together.” Her words had bite, but she said them with a small smirk

“I never coerced you.”

“You didn’t give me much of a choice.”

He rolled onto his back and howled, fresh laceration burning at the pressure. Damn it all. “Would you have wanted to stay in forced prostitution? Was that ever an option you’d take?”

She looked away. “No.”

“And I gave you the option to do as you pleased, to look at the arrangement as nothing but a contract that got you out of such an awful situation, the only thing you owed me an egg in years to follow. That was it.”

“I just feel…cheated out of getting to pick a partner.”

“You were just kissing my scars.”

“I was.”

“You weasel your way into my bed most nights. You tell me which clothes you think I look best in. You won’t let me leave without a shower of kisses nowadays. Are you unhappy to have me?”

“No.” Unsurprisingly, she leaned in to kiss him. “You make me happy. You frighten the hell out of me, but I don’t think I’d be happy elsewhere.”

He’d like to tell her that he loved her, but the words never made it from his chest and to his tongue. He’d been thinking them for months and he still had yet to voice the short sentence. “I know I wouldn’t be happy without you. Hey,” he wiped a tear as it rolled down her cheek. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“I really hate seeing you so beat up.” She brushed his hand away. “I know I’ve said it before, but I just want you to be more careful. I don’t want you coming home in pieces.”

“This was an anomaly. I was being careful this time.” He kissed her forehead. “I did take your request to heart.” Gingerly, he took her hands in his, bringing them to his lips. She had scars that wrapped around wrists, white rings of past abuse. “What are these from?”

“Being bound together.”

He traced a pock mark of reddish flesh. “And this one?”

“Burned with a poker. I misbehaved.”

She lay back on the sheets when he nudged her down, following to kiss a white streak that cut near her ear. “This looks intended.”

“A few of the other girls cut me because I was pretty.”

His heart bled for her. His blood boiled. A darkness rose like a tidal wave in his bones.

She put a hand on his cheek. “Do not hunt them down.”

“They hurt you.”

“Kylo. Please.”

Burying his face in her neck, he let out a frustrated growl. “I don’t want you to hurt. Or ache.”

“Do you understand why I’m so frustrated with you then? I don’t want you injured or wounded either. And I don’t want you injuring or wounding anyone else for my sake.”

“What if I end up back on Jakku—“

“Kylo, when are you ever going to set foot on Jakku?”

“Fine.” He rose to kiss her, savoring her tenderness. “Be safe and I’ve no reason to seek reparations.”

She ran her finger down the long dark red line that cut his face in two. “What’s this one from?”

He failed to bite back a smile. “You saw it when it was fresh, sweetheart.”

“Humor me. I have questions about a bunch of your scars.”

“I got sliced while defending my men.”

“My husband, the brave idiot.” Her lips were soft against his numb skin. Her fingers grazed the massive starburst of his second blaster bolt wound. “And this one?”

[silent-of-spirit]

Roman AU: Visiting Dorian.

So I switched it to ‘Dorian visiting’ because it fit better. I hope you don’t mind

She woke slowly, head pounding, noseand throat feeling as though they had been stuffed with scratchycotton. She had to force her eyes open, groaning at the invasion ofbright light. She heard a shuffling movement beside her, then a handlike ice was applied to her forehead. She jerked away from thesensation, retreating beneath the blankets of her bed.

“Still burning.” She heard thegentle voice of her mother, tutting disapprovingly as she shuffledelsewhere in the room.

“I'm fine.” Liahra said weakly,voice muffled from her hiding place.

“You are unwell.” Her mothersnapped. There was a moment of silence that fell heavy in the airbefore she sighed. “I- I am sorry. That was unworthy of me.”Liahra pushed the blankets away, wincing again at the light and howit seemed to lance through her skull. She settled her eyes upon thewoman whom she loved above all others, studying the lines of her faceas she sat with downcast eyes.

“What troubles you, mother?” Sheasked gently, trying to ignore the incessant pounding in her head andpowder in her lungs as she swung her legs from the bed.

“Gracious, Liahra!” Edina hissed,rushing from her chair to push her daughter back down into thecushions.

“Let me up! I have been in thisdamned bed for three days. It is driving me to madness.” Sheflushed in shame at the look of admonishment she received at heroutburst. “Apologies, mother.” She said quietly, averting hergaze. Edina gave her a sharp look, but allowed her to rise, gesturingfor one of the servants.

“Will you please see to the baths,dear?” She asked the girl kindly. The servant smiled and curtsied,dismissing herself to the adjacent chamber. Liahra searched hermother's face for what could be weighing so heavily.

“Mother?”

“A Tevinter magister will be stayingwith us for a while.” The woman said at last, refusing to meet herdaughter's gaze. Liahra felt as though the wind had just been knockedfrom her, and she had to lower herself back down to the bed in shock,suddenly dizzy.

A magister? No. No, it isn'tpossible. Uncle would not bend knee... not now.

Shecould feel the rage flooding her, white hot and consuming. Hewouldn't, she tried totell herself, but she quickly found reason replaced with emotion, andshe found herself striding from her room, purpose in her steps and asharpness in her eyes. She heard her mother's startled cry as sheswept past, but ignored it. The wind blew through the corridors, aharbinger of a storm to come. Fitting that there should beanother presently. She thoughtwith bitterness.

Herrage was evident enough that it sent the servants scurrying from herpath, despite the desperation of their duties. They were hurried. Sohe must be coming soon, she thought- followed swiftly by another- Notif I can help it. She wasvaguely aware of Krem when she passed him in the hall, his headswiveling to do a double take before following her, steps clipped.

“My lady!” Hecalled after her, but she ignored him as well, striding through theestate to her Uncle's study. Her night shift was billowing aroundher, the fabric shimmering and translucent, but she could not bringherself to care about the impropriety of it. She was of a singlepurpose, driven to find the reasoning behind this utter madness. Sheignored the way her head pounded and set her vision blurry, ignoredthe burning in her throat and lungs, ignored the light sheen of sweaton her skin as she tried to rid the fever.

“Uncle!” Shebarked as she rounded the corner, blowing into his office like a galewind leaving destruction in its wake. He knew this would come. Henodded his dismissal to the servant who was standing near, eyes wideand a little afraid. The boy scurried from the room as fast as hislegs would carry, tossing a single look back over his shoulder at thetempest that was Liahra. Maeral lifted his gaze to her, tired andresigned.

“I had no choice,my dear.” Her nostrils flared, flame present in her eyes.

“Thereis always a choice.”She snapped, staring him down with unforgiving fury. Krem and Edinaappeared in the doorway then, both a little breathless. Krem lookedbetween the two of them, immediately averting his eyes when theyrested on Liahra. He cleared his throat uneasily, unclasping hiscloak and holding it out to her. Her eyes snapped to the movement andshe grabbed it from his grasp with a small grunt of thanks, coveringthe indecency of her nightclothes. Maeral watched the exchange,breathing carefully to avoid rousing his temper. He needed to bereasonable when he knew she would not. Not about this matter inparticular, at least. He did not blame her.

“There werequestions of my loyalty to the Senate, and to Arlathan.”

“Why?Because you voice reasonin a room of those who would see us bend a knee to the Empire?” Shedemanded.

“Not all-”

“Fuck all!” Shescreeched.

“Liahra!” Hermother hissed, outraged.

“No,mother! I will not besilent! Not in this.” She shook her head vehemently. “No, not allof them are in support of occupation, but enoughof them are. Enough to pose issue and cause harm.”

“And if my voiceis removed from the Senate, it is one less in opposition. Try tounderstand what is at stake, Liahra.” Maeral reasoned, his voicerising slightly at the last.

“Soyou let them cajole you into letting a magisterinto our home? You arethe cleverest man I know. Surelyyou would have found a way around this!”

“I encouragedit.” He said simply. Her rage instantly abated, replaced insteadwith horrified confusion. Edina moved behind him, placing a hand onhis shoulder in support. Krem stood stock still, watching theexchange with sharp eyes.

“You... what?”Liahra finally said, voice soft and hurt.

“Think about it,da'len.” He said gently, but she just shook her head in confusion.“A magister under our roof- think of the information we cangather.” He could see the understanding dawn on her, her lipsparting in a surprised 'oh'. She immediately lowered her eyes,clasping her hands in front of her as her cheeks flushed scarlet.“You have a good heart, Liahra, and a good head on your shoulders.You are quick and clever, but you need to learn temperance,especially with a political situation so volatile. It is wonderfulthat you speak your mind, but remember that there is also virtue inwaiting until the opportune time.”

“Deepest regretsfor my outburst, Uncle. It was hasty and ill-considered. I shall dobetter.”

“Thank you,da'len. I know this is hard for you, but I trust you will make meproud.” He said gently, gesturing to Krem to lead her out. “I amrelieved to see you are feeling better. You should see to a bath andget properly attired- Tamlen comes at the noon bell, and the Magisternot long after.” She inclined her head, following Krem from theroom.

“You gave me aright fright, storming out like that in little more than your skin,mistress.” Krem tossed back at her. “You were near death notthree days ago- you shouldn't have exerted yourself like this.”

She grabbed his armgently, pulling him back to look at her. When he turned back with asigh, she took his hand in both of hers, squeezing tightly.

“I'm sorry, Krem.You're right, of course.” She paused. “You are my dearest friend,and I deeply apologize for causing you worry.” He let out a huff ofamusement and jerked his head toward the end of the hall with a smallsmile.

“On our way,ladyship. Your mother will have my hide if you aren't ready in time.”

~~~~

“Tamlen! Howlovely to see you again.” Liahra called from across the courtyard,taking measured steps to where he stood. He greeted her with abrilliant smile, suited for his handsome face.

“Ah, ma lath!”He pulled her into a warm embrace. He smiled again when he pulledback, eyes roaming her face. “You are radiant as ever- a truejewel. I am a lucky man.” She blushed prettily beneath hisattentions, tucking back an escaped blonde curl.

“You flatter me,Tamlen.” She said with a laugh.

“On the contrary!I speak only facts, as ever.”

“Ah, Tamlen!”Maeral stepped into the courtyard in opulent robes, clapping theyounger man on the back heartily. “So good of you to bear witnessto an historic event such as this.” Tamlen chuckled.

“I would be lyingif I said that the thought of seeing my betrothed bore no weight inmy decision.”

“Ha! As I hope itwould.”

The servant sent towatch the road came scurrying in the gate, standing at attentionbefore them. “The magister's carriage draws near!” Maeral noddedonce.

“Very good. Thankyou. Please see that the wine has been brought out for our guest.”The servant bowed and darted into the house, disappearing from sight.Apprehension coiled tightly in Liahra's belly, her uneasiness fromearlier settling back upon her with startling intensity. She couldfeel the tension in her shoulders, and she forced herself to swallowpast the lump in her throat, head beginning to pound in earnest oncemore.

She grew only morerigid when the carriage pulled into the courtyard, pulled by four ofthe finest horses she had ever seen, massive with shining onyx coats.She admired them for a moment, hoping to calm her nerves, but hergaze flitted to the carriage door the instant the driver stepped tothe earth. She could distantly feel Tamlen's gaze on her face, browfurrowed.

The door clicked,and she took a steadying breath, willing herself to be calm as itopened. From the carriage stepped a man in opulent finery, arms andhands bedecked in all manners of gold jewelry. He wore no shirtbeneath his robes, leaving his right shoulder and half of his chestbare. Bold. His hair was perfectly coiffed, moustache expertly waxedand shining, and his bright eyes were rimmed with kohl. He wasdevastatingly handsome, and a perfect picture of arrogance andwealth.

She hated himimmediately.

He turned his gazeto them, gesturing widely with his hands as a smile graced his lips.“My gracious hosts, I presume.” Maeral stepped forward with agrin that looked completely genuine, belying none of the anxietyLiahra knew he too felt.

“I am Maeral ofHouse Lavellan, and we welcome you to our humble home.” He bowed,bowed, before the magister, and she bristled at the sight.Tamlen's grip tightened on her hand, and she afforded him a smallsmile in thanks, the gesture slightly comforting.

The Tevene man lethis gaze sweep over the grand estate with a small smirk. “Humble?Gracious, one wonders what extravagant would be in this fine city.”Maeral laughed good-naturedly.

“You are tookind.”

“Ah! But whereare my manners?” The magister said suddenly, bending in a sweepingbow, “My name is Dorian of House Pavus of Minrathous- how do youdo?”

Her mother steppedforward, offering her hand with a serene smile. “I am EdinaLavellan, sister to the charming master of the house. It is apleasure to make your acquaintance.” Liahra knew they needed toplay nicely, but it did not sit well with her... at all. They wereprostrating themselves before a man who was a part of the structureof a country wanting to rule the world. It did not sit well, and shehad to remind herself to remain calm. Not only was the reputation ofher uncle at stake, but Tamlen's as well. If she made a fool ofherself, she made a fool of them. The thought tempered her annoyancesomewhat.

The magister-Dorian, she reminded herself- bowed over her mother's proffered hand,kissing it lightly. “Charmed.” He said with a grin before turningto Tamlen, seeming to briefly assess her from the corner of his eyes.Tamlen smiled brightly, ever friendly and kind.

“Tamlen of HouseSabrae. It's a pleasure, Magister Pavus.” Dorian quirked a brow,but then laughed heartily, startling them all.

“Oh, I am not amagister.” He said finally, still chuckling. They all exchangedconfused looks. “Well, I suppose all Southerners must think anymage from the Imperium is a magister, hm? No, I am an altus,next in line to take my father's seat in the Magisterium, should hechoose to leave it to me. Much like your 'Senate' seats.”

“Senate seats areelected, not passed down.” Liahra said, berating herself for theunintended bite in her tone. Dorian turned to her, seeming to assessher again, eyes slightly narrowed but smile still present. She raisedher chin slightly, noticing how the corner of his lips quirked alittle more in response. He was looking at her as if he knewher- and that was more unsettling than his presence as a whole.

“And who are you,my dear?” He asked, voice positively dripping with honey. She fixedhim with a smile of her own, predatory and vaguely threatening. Itdid nothing to deter him, in fact, it seemed to further amuse him.

“LiahraLavellan.” She said simply. She did not offer her hand in greeting,merely met his challenging gaze with her own, a standoff that had theothers shifting uncomfortably. Dorian broke the stalemate, smilingbrilliantly and turning away.

“Such apleasure to meet you in particular, Lady Liahra.” Maeral made amove to step in and guide the man away, too aware of the bait Dorianleft- a bait he knew Liahra would snatch. Restraint was not askill to be perfected in a few hours' time.

“Ser Pa-

“In particular?”She asked pointedly, and Maeral closed his eyes, clenching his jaw ashe let out a slow breath of defeat.

“I have heardquite a bit about you.” Dorian said smugly.

“Oh?” She saidcasually, though the dangerous glint in her eyes gave her away.

“Indeed. Speakingout against honored Tevene guests, decrying the games while stillattending, shameful public displays of vocal aggression againstvisiting Imperium dignitaries, the 'rescue' and freeing of aTevinter slave condemned to death for treason- you are a hot topicfor debate in the Empire.” He said with a smirk. “Most unbecomingof one with such status, and even so,  you sit in your palace on yourhill and deign to judge while doing nothing for a cause youapparently so heatedly support aside from spew vitriol and makeyourself a fool.” Dorian watched her phase through a whole host ofdifferent emotions, fury being the primary. She looked as if she madeto say something, but held back at the last moment, clenching herjaw. He smiled.

Yes, she was justthe sort he needed for his mission- just as he'd hoped she might be.

He turned back tothe lord of the house, the man seeming stunned for a moment. “MightI have a tour?” Dorian asked helpfully, allowing the man to shakehimself from his daze. He spluttered nonsense for a moment beforeturning and leading him inside.