Happy Holidays, Musegaarid!
Dec. 21st, 2005 10:53 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
waxbean.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
go_exchangeHappy Holidays, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
musegaarid!
title: A Gift to One Another
gift recipient:musegaarid
author/artist:myotismon13
Summary: Crowley/Aziraphale. Crowley botches Aziraphale's Christmas and he wants to make it up to him. Aziraphale has an idea in mind, but no idea about how far Crowley wants to take it.
Rating: NC-17
~*~
"I could have told you that was a bad idea," Aziraphale sighed as he ushered a shivering Crowley through the door of the demon's apartment. "The ice wasn't nearly thick enough."
"Well it looked like it was," Crowley sniffed.
"Now you know how those poor ducks feel when you submerge them," the angel chided, setting him on the couch and drawing blankets around him. "I'll go make you something hot to drink."
"Can't you do something about my wings first?" He shivered and looked at the icy feathers. He hadn't meant to unfurl them, but the shock of the cold water had caused him to lose control and bring them out.
"I suppose. Do you have a hair dryer?"
"In the b-b-bathroom." His whole body shuddered and he wrapped the blanket closer.
Aziraphale set some water to boil then retrieved the sleek black hair dryer from the immaculate bathroom and plugged it in the same outlet that the tree was in. The angel looked up at it for a moment and paused. It was one of the new fiber-optic jobs that had no lights, just the thin transparent fibers that kept changing color. Like the hair dryer it was very modern. Very Crowley.
He took the dryer back the couch with him, set it to high and directed the warm air to the outstretched wings, slowly melting the ice and drying them off.
"What I don't understand," he mused, "Is why you didn't just shield yourself from the cold or something."
"You don't."
"That's only because I prefer to go the human route as much as… well, angelically possible."
Crowley looked at him and then shivered.
"I made an effort so I could enjoy it more," he explained miserably. "What fun is ice skating if you don't get a little cold?"
"Well you might get more than a little cold. Should I get you some more blankets?"
"Oh very funny, angel. Yes. I think so."
Once Aziraphale returned with a cup of hot tea and several quilts and throws, he looked ruefully at his bleary companion.
"I don't suppose you're going to feel like going to the Ritz after this?"
Crowley picked up a throw and wrapped himself in it over the blanket he already had. "Are you crazy? I'll be lucky if I don't get frostbite or pneumonia or consumption or something," he exaggerated, drawing a quirked eyebrow from Aziraphale.
"Oh well," Aziraphale sighed. "It's always crowded this time of year anyways. And perhaps you'll be feeling up to it in a day or two." His disappointment, however, was written on his face and Crowley felt a slight pang of guilt that his accident, however inadvertent, had precluded the Christmas Eve dinner they had planned on having there.
Lifting his chin and resolving to make the best of it, Aziraphale patted Crowley on the shoulder when he saw the demon look down. "It's quite alright, dear boy. Just rest up and try to feel better."
Nodding, Crowley stretched himself out on the couch with his wings facing Aziraphale. The angel continued to puff them with hot air then started to straighten out the mussed feathers with his fingers. As he stroked, Crowley felt himself growing unaccountably warm inside. That happened sometimes when he picked up certain scents (like tea and dusty books) or felt worn sweaters or touched Aziraphale's hand when they both reached for the wine bottle at the same time. His head was fuzzy and everything felt tingly and confused. Putting it down to the chill and a possible fever, he did his best to ignore the feeling and fell asleep.
~*~
When he finally woke up, his wings were dry, he had not gotten pneumonia or anything of the sort and Aziraphale was snoring in a chair that had been dragged next to the couch. Crowley looked at his face, perfectly relaxed with the glasses sliding down his nose and stray locks of hair falling in his face. He looked wonderfully divine in that moment and the tingly feeling started inside of Crowley again.
Nearly panicking, he cleared his throat and Aziraphale woke with a start.
"Wha… Hm? Oh. Goodness. You're awake, dear boy. I hope I haven't kept you waiting."
"No problem, angel, I just got up," Crowley said, sitting up tentatively. "How long have I been sleeping?"
Aziraphale took a moment to check the watch on his wrist then gave him a wry smile.
"Forty-seven hours."
"Oh." He paused. "And you've been here the whole time?"
"More or less. I made a few pots of tea but I never left for long. You know. Just in case," he said quietly, not wanting Crowley to be offended by the attention he'd given the demon.
"Ah. Well. That was nice," Crowley responded, not quite able to thank him, since he was after all a demon. Inside, however, he wished he could have since he realized that Aziraphale must have spent the entirety of Christmas day inside his apartment. Which meant that he'd missed every activity he normally did on Christmas; popping into churches, performing small miracles, listening to carolers and so on. Crowley naturally despised doing any of that, which was why they always got in their (unspecified) holiday celebrating at the Ritz the night before so that Aziraphale could spending the holiday doing angelic things.
And now… now Crowley'd made him miss it.
"Look, angel, I'm… well, let me make it up to you."
"Make up what?"
"Oh come off it. I know what you like to do on the holidays. And I know you missed it. Let me get you something. Dinner for starters. And then a gift, any gift you like."
"Really Crowley, its fine. I couldn't possibly accept anyway; I haven't gotten you anything."
"Well, yeah, but that's only because I don't want something in tartan. I mean, honestly, you have no taste. And anyway, this isn't a gift for the season. It's to, you know, make up for staying here."
"You mean like an apology?" Aziraphale suggested slyly and Crowley huffed.
"No, because demons don't apologize. Though you could think of it that way, if you wanted. I guess."
Aziraphale stood and stretched, then helped Crowley off the couch. Once he was on his feet the demon waved his hand and his appearance suddenly became neat and his clothes black, fresh and pressed. They smiled at each other.
"To the Ritz then?"
"Naturally."
They went to the restaurant and drank so much that Aziraphale finally altered the waiter's memory, lest he realize that the pair had consumed enough alcohol to intoxicate an elephant. He would have preferred that Crowley had done it, since it always seemed like a sneaky thing to do, but the demon had been sobering up much less often than the angel and was a great deal more intoxicated. He was still fixated on the idea of getting him a gift.
"C'mon," he grinned. "What should I getcha?"
Aziraphale sighed and took another sip of wine.
"I already explained this. Dinner was good enough as it was, you don't need to do anything more."
"No!" Crowley shot back with great insistence. "I told you I was gonna and damn it I'm gonna!" He leered at the angel. "C'mon now 'Zira. 'sn't there anything you want, anything at all?"
"I'm afraid you really wouldn't be amenable to getting me what I'd like."
"Why not? I c'n corp'rate all the money I want," he slurred. "Buy ya anything, no matter what the cost!"
"No matter what the cost?" Aziraphale said quietly. "Dangerous words. Look where they got that German doctor."
"Well 't doesn't matter, 'cause 'm not human an' 'm already Fallen," he insisted. "Now jus' tell me what you want and 't's yours, no problem."
"I'll tell you right now that I'm not going to accept a gift from you without giving something back," he said slowly and Crowley scoffed. "But I was rather hoping… we could give a gift to each other." A blush started to creep across his cheeks and Crowley looked at him oddly again, the same tingling feeling from before coming back with a vengeance.
"Angel, what're you...? Oh. Oh." He cleared his throat. "Well I suppose that could be arranged."
He leaned over the table and drew Aziraphale's face towards him carefully. Their lips touched and Crowley slid in his tongue, using it to stroke the angel's, tasting the wine they'd had for dinner in his mouth. When they finally drew back Aziraphale looked misty-eyed and smiled at him.
"Thank you Crowley."
The demon snorted.
"Who said that was it?" He shot back, having sobered up by then. "That wasn't the real present. Presents are things you unwrap." And Crowley had him out the door and in the Bentley before the angel could figure out just what he meant by that.
~*~
Crowley dragged the befuddled bookstore owner inside and quickly locked the doors, as it finally hit him what he'd been feeling and denying for quite some time.
"Really, my dear, I don't think all this is necessary," Aziraphale stammered. "I was quite content. Happy with what you gave. You don't have to."
"I wassssn't," he hissed. "Anthony Crowley doesn't give by halves."
Aziraphale blushed and Crowley looked down and grinned. The angel was definitely making an effort.
"See?" He said, sliding up to the angel and touching the erection hidden by the fabric. "You’re making an effort; which means you want this as much as I do."
"As much as you," Aziraphale whispered, eyes wide, starting to realize.
"So why don't you just have a seat?"
Crowley pushed him onto the couch then knelt in front of him, undoing the buttons on his shirt, the buckle on his belt, the zipper on his pants.
"Crowley!" Aziraphale gasped as the demon exceeded his expectations and pulled off his y-fronts, sliding his hands around the back of his buttocks and placing his mouth firmly on top of the slick shaft that had come free. Suddenly, Aziraphale felt warm in a way he never had before and felt his mental faculties start to shut down.
As Crowley's tongue worked, the angel whimpered and clutched his hair. His hips bucked and rose to meet Crowley's red-rimmed mouth, shivering as he felt the hint of fangs nearly break the tender, swollen skin. Crowley's hands were wandering all over his soft stomach then traveling up his abdomen to the nipples which he tweaked, causing another rush of intoxicating sensations to flood Aziraphale’s brain.
"Crowley, please, please," he moaned. "Crowley!" He spasmed and flooded the demon's mouth with semen which, to his surprise, the demon licked off of his lips. It tasted moist and absolutely delightful. Divine, even.
Then he leaned in and offered Aziraphale his shirt.
"Happy Holidays, angel. Now be a good boy and unwrap your present. Don't you want to see what's inside?"
A few plump fingers fumbled with the buttons, though Aziraphale found that he could barely concentrate in his heated state. Crowley was patient, however, and waited until his clothes were in a pile on the floor along with the blankets he'd slept in. The angel gasped to see his body, chiseled and flawless with his cock standing at attention.
"Now that that's done," Crowley smirked, "why don't you play with your new toy?"
For a few moments, Aziraphale looked at him, dumbfounded. Then he stood, in all his pudgy, naked glory, and pushed Crowley onto the floor. The demon hissed with pleasure as a well-manicured index finger worked its way inside of him, followed swiftly by Aziraphale's already recovered and pulsing member. It was unlubricated, tight and painful -- and Crowley loved it. The angel pounded and drove as Crowley clutched him and howled.
"Angel. Angel. Harder. Take me, damn it!"
With his hands on Crowley's chest, Aziraphale pulled out, and then pushed in again, hitting the demon’s sweet spot until they got off at nearly the same moment. Reflexively, Crowley bit deeply into Aziraphale's shoulder instead of screaming.
Crowley's own seed was all over Aziraphale's belly and his eyes widened when the angel swabbed his finger in it then licked it off.
"When did you…?"
"I read books Crowley," he whispered, lowering himself down onto the demon and pulling the blankets over them. "Lots and lots of books. And I've waited very long to see if… if what they said was true."
"And?" He asked apprehensively as Aziraphale nuzzled his neck.
"Every word and more," Aziraphale replied, licking Crowley's earlobe with his tongue.
Crowley pulled the angel closer to him, enjoying the warmth and the soft fleshy feel of the angel's arse beneath his hands and the sticky stomach pressed against his own. He kissed him again then, fiercely, each of them giving and taking, aroused and melting into each other until it seemed as though they could never get untangled. As they slowly released from the kiss, Aziraphale sucked on his neck, marking it.
"Lovely gift, Crowley. Just what I've always wanted. How did you know?" he murmured.
"Talent," was the smirking reply. "And I do believe I was wrong before, angel."
"Oh?"
"Yes," he said, tracing languid circles around one of the angel's nipples. "When I said you had no taste. That's not true. You were delicious."
~*~
musegaarid!title: A Gift to One Another
gift recipient:
musegaaridauthor/artist:
myotismon13Summary: Crowley/Aziraphale. Crowley botches Aziraphale's Christmas and he wants to make it up to him. Aziraphale has an idea in mind, but no idea about how far Crowley wants to take it.
Rating: NC-17
~*~
"I could have told you that was a bad idea," Aziraphale sighed as he ushered a shivering Crowley through the door of the demon's apartment. "The ice wasn't nearly thick enough."
"Well it looked like it was," Crowley sniffed.
"Now you know how those poor ducks feel when you submerge them," the angel chided, setting him on the couch and drawing blankets around him. "I'll go make you something hot to drink."
"Can't you do something about my wings first?" He shivered and looked at the icy feathers. He hadn't meant to unfurl them, but the shock of the cold water had caused him to lose control and bring them out.
"I suppose. Do you have a hair dryer?"
"In the b-b-bathroom." His whole body shuddered and he wrapped the blanket closer.
Aziraphale set some water to boil then retrieved the sleek black hair dryer from the immaculate bathroom and plugged it in the same outlet that the tree was in. The angel looked up at it for a moment and paused. It was one of the new fiber-optic jobs that had no lights, just the thin transparent fibers that kept changing color. Like the hair dryer it was very modern. Very Crowley.
He took the dryer back the couch with him, set it to high and directed the warm air to the outstretched wings, slowly melting the ice and drying them off.
"What I don't understand," he mused, "Is why you didn't just shield yourself from the cold or something."
"You don't."
"That's only because I prefer to go the human route as much as… well, angelically possible."
Crowley looked at him and then shivered.
"I made an effort so I could enjoy it more," he explained miserably. "What fun is ice skating if you don't get a little cold?"
"Well you might get more than a little cold. Should I get you some more blankets?"
"Oh very funny, angel. Yes. I think so."
Once Aziraphale returned with a cup of hot tea and several quilts and throws, he looked ruefully at his bleary companion.
"I don't suppose you're going to feel like going to the Ritz after this?"
Crowley picked up a throw and wrapped himself in it over the blanket he already had. "Are you crazy? I'll be lucky if I don't get frostbite or pneumonia or consumption or something," he exaggerated, drawing a quirked eyebrow from Aziraphale.
"Oh well," Aziraphale sighed. "It's always crowded this time of year anyways. And perhaps you'll be feeling up to it in a day or two." His disappointment, however, was written on his face and Crowley felt a slight pang of guilt that his accident, however inadvertent, had precluded the Christmas Eve dinner they had planned on having there.
Lifting his chin and resolving to make the best of it, Aziraphale patted Crowley on the shoulder when he saw the demon look down. "It's quite alright, dear boy. Just rest up and try to feel better."
Nodding, Crowley stretched himself out on the couch with his wings facing Aziraphale. The angel continued to puff them with hot air then started to straighten out the mussed feathers with his fingers. As he stroked, Crowley felt himself growing unaccountably warm inside. That happened sometimes when he picked up certain scents (like tea and dusty books) or felt worn sweaters or touched Aziraphale's hand when they both reached for the wine bottle at the same time. His head was fuzzy and everything felt tingly and confused. Putting it down to the chill and a possible fever, he did his best to ignore the feeling and fell asleep.
~*~
When he finally woke up, his wings were dry, he had not gotten pneumonia or anything of the sort and Aziraphale was snoring in a chair that had been dragged next to the couch. Crowley looked at his face, perfectly relaxed with the glasses sliding down his nose and stray locks of hair falling in his face. He looked wonderfully divine in that moment and the tingly feeling started inside of Crowley again.
Nearly panicking, he cleared his throat and Aziraphale woke with a start.
"Wha… Hm? Oh. Goodness. You're awake, dear boy. I hope I haven't kept you waiting."
"No problem, angel, I just got up," Crowley said, sitting up tentatively. "How long have I been sleeping?"
Aziraphale took a moment to check the watch on his wrist then gave him a wry smile.
"Forty-seven hours."
"Oh." He paused. "And you've been here the whole time?"
"More or less. I made a few pots of tea but I never left for long. You know. Just in case," he said quietly, not wanting Crowley to be offended by the attention he'd given the demon.
"Ah. Well. That was nice," Crowley responded, not quite able to thank him, since he was after all a demon. Inside, however, he wished he could have since he realized that Aziraphale must have spent the entirety of Christmas day inside his apartment. Which meant that he'd missed every activity he normally did on Christmas; popping into churches, performing small miracles, listening to carolers and so on. Crowley naturally despised doing any of that, which was why they always got in their (unspecified) holiday celebrating at the Ritz the night before so that Aziraphale could spending the holiday doing angelic things.
And now… now Crowley'd made him miss it.
"Look, angel, I'm… well, let me make it up to you."
"Make up what?"
"Oh come off it. I know what you like to do on the holidays. And I know you missed it. Let me get you something. Dinner for starters. And then a gift, any gift you like."
"Really Crowley, its fine. I couldn't possibly accept anyway; I haven't gotten you anything."
"Well, yeah, but that's only because I don't want something in tartan. I mean, honestly, you have no taste. And anyway, this isn't a gift for the season. It's to, you know, make up for staying here."
"You mean like an apology?" Aziraphale suggested slyly and Crowley huffed.
"No, because demons don't apologize. Though you could think of it that way, if you wanted. I guess."
Aziraphale stood and stretched, then helped Crowley off the couch. Once he was on his feet the demon waved his hand and his appearance suddenly became neat and his clothes black, fresh and pressed. They smiled at each other.
"To the Ritz then?"
"Naturally."
They went to the restaurant and drank so much that Aziraphale finally altered the waiter's memory, lest he realize that the pair had consumed enough alcohol to intoxicate an elephant. He would have preferred that Crowley had done it, since it always seemed like a sneaky thing to do, but the demon had been sobering up much less often than the angel and was a great deal more intoxicated. He was still fixated on the idea of getting him a gift.
"C'mon," he grinned. "What should I getcha?"
Aziraphale sighed and took another sip of wine.
"I already explained this. Dinner was good enough as it was, you don't need to do anything more."
"No!" Crowley shot back with great insistence. "I told you I was gonna and damn it I'm gonna!" He leered at the angel. "C'mon now 'Zira. 'sn't there anything you want, anything at all?"
"I'm afraid you really wouldn't be amenable to getting me what I'd like."
"Why not? I c'n corp'rate all the money I want," he slurred. "Buy ya anything, no matter what the cost!"
"No matter what the cost?" Aziraphale said quietly. "Dangerous words. Look where they got that German doctor."
"Well 't doesn't matter, 'cause 'm not human an' 'm already Fallen," he insisted. "Now jus' tell me what you want and 't's yours, no problem."
"I'll tell you right now that I'm not going to accept a gift from you without giving something back," he said slowly and Crowley scoffed. "But I was rather hoping… we could give a gift to each other." A blush started to creep across his cheeks and Crowley looked at him oddly again, the same tingling feeling from before coming back with a vengeance.
"Angel, what're you...? Oh. Oh." He cleared his throat. "Well I suppose that could be arranged."
He leaned over the table and drew Aziraphale's face towards him carefully. Their lips touched and Crowley slid in his tongue, using it to stroke the angel's, tasting the wine they'd had for dinner in his mouth. When they finally drew back Aziraphale looked misty-eyed and smiled at him.
"Thank you Crowley."
The demon snorted.
"Who said that was it?" He shot back, having sobered up by then. "That wasn't the real present. Presents are things you unwrap." And Crowley had him out the door and in the Bentley before the angel could figure out just what he meant by that.
~*~
Crowley dragged the befuddled bookstore owner inside and quickly locked the doors, as it finally hit him what he'd been feeling and denying for quite some time.
"Really, my dear, I don't think all this is necessary," Aziraphale stammered. "I was quite content. Happy with what you gave. You don't have to."
"I wassssn't," he hissed. "Anthony Crowley doesn't give by halves."
Aziraphale blushed and Crowley looked down and grinned. The angel was definitely making an effort.
"See?" He said, sliding up to the angel and touching the erection hidden by the fabric. "You’re making an effort; which means you want this as much as I do."
"As much as you," Aziraphale whispered, eyes wide, starting to realize.
"So why don't you just have a seat?"
Crowley pushed him onto the couch then knelt in front of him, undoing the buttons on his shirt, the buckle on his belt, the zipper on his pants.
"Crowley!" Aziraphale gasped as the demon exceeded his expectations and pulled off his y-fronts, sliding his hands around the back of his buttocks and placing his mouth firmly on top of the slick shaft that had come free. Suddenly, Aziraphale felt warm in a way he never had before and felt his mental faculties start to shut down.
As Crowley's tongue worked, the angel whimpered and clutched his hair. His hips bucked and rose to meet Crowley's red-rimmed mouth, shivering as he felt the hint of fangs nearly break the tender, swollen skin. Crowley's hands were wandering all over his soft stomach then traveling up his abdomen to the nipples which he tweaked, causing another rush of intoxicating sensations to flood Aziraphale’s brain.
"Crowley, please, please," he moaned. "Crowley!" He spasmed and flooded the demon's mouth with semen which, to his surprise, the demon licked off of his lips. It tasted moist and absolutely delightful. Divine, even.
Then he leaned in and offered Aziraphale his shirt.
"Happy Holidays, angel. Now be a good boy and unwrap your present. Don't you want to see what's inside?"
A few plump fingers fumbled with the buttons, though Aziraphale found that he could barely concentrate in his heated state. Crowley was patient, however, and waited until his clothes were in a pile on the floor along with the blankets he'd slept in. The angel gasped to see his body, chiseled and flawless with his cock standing at attention.
"Now that that's done," Crowley smirked, "why don't you play with your new toy?"
For a few moments, Aziraphale looked at him, dumbfounded. Then he stood, in all his pudgy, naked glory, and pushed Crowley onto the floor. The demon hissed with pleasure as a well-manicured index finger worked its way inside of him, followed swiftly by Aziraphale's already recovered and pulsing member. It was unlubricated, tight and painful -- and Crowley loved it. The angel pounded and drove as Crowley clutched him and howled.
"Angel. Angel. Harder. Take me, damn it!"
With his hands on Crowley's chest, Aziraphale pulled out, and then pushed in again, hitting the demon’s sweet spot until they got off at nearly the same moment. Reflexively, Crowley bit deeply into Aziraphale's shoulder instead of screaming.
Crowley's own seed was all over Aziraphale's belly and his eyes widened when the angel swabbed his finger in it then licked it off.
"When did you…?"
"I read books Crowley," he whispered, lowering himself down onto the demon and pulling the blankets over them. "Lots and lots of books. And I've waited very long to see if… if what they said was true."
"And?" He asked apprehensively as Aziraphale nuzzled his neck.
"Every word and more," Aziraphale replied, licking Crowley's earlobe with his tongue.
Crowley pulled the angel closer to him, enjoying the warmth and the soft fleshy feel of the angel's arse beneath his hands and the sticky stomach pressed against his own. He kissed him again then, fiercely, each of them giving and taking, aroused and melting into each other until it seemed as though they could never get untangled. As they slowly released from the kiss, Aziraphale sucked on his neck, marking it.
"Lovely gift, Crowley. Just what I've always wanted. How did you know?" he murmured.
"Talent," was the smirking reply. "And I do believe I was wrong before, angel."
"Oh?"
"Yes," he said, tracing languid circles around one of the angel's nipples. "When I said you had no taste. That's not true. You were delicious."
~*~
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 08:37 am (UTC)My favorite parts:
"Are you crazy? I'll be lucky if I don't get frostbite or pneumonia or consumption or something,"
This made me giggle. I love the exaggeratedness. If that's a word... :D
I adore the fact that you had Crowley talking in circles to say what he means when he can't because "Demons don't apologize" My Crowley doesn't either. Well he does, but not in any way you can pin down. Just like this!
"Really Crowley, its fine. I couldn't possibly accept anyway; I haven't gotten you anything."
"Well, yeah, but that's only because I don't want something in tartan.
This is where the giggles turned into real laughs.
"Presents are things you unwrap."
Rawr! I've always believed this. :D
"As much as you," Aziraphale whispered, eyes wide, starting to realize.
*wibbles* Their fuzzy feelings for each other were so adorable and more than that - believable. I really got the feeling that they'd been together so long that it was almost impossible for this not to have happened. I'm so happy that you made this relationship a clearly caring one and not just random PWP.
It was unlubricated, tight and painful -- and Crowley loved it.
*blushblush* I think the reason this part was so particularly sexy was because it was realistic. You didn't spend paragraphs on how they prepared each other for their first time, etc. It was just, I can't stand it anymore, let's do this and screw the consequences. (pun not intended. ;)
"I read books Crowley," he whispered, lowering himself down onto the demon and pulling the blankets over them. "Lots and lots of books. And I've waited very long to see if… if what they said was true."
So very Aziraphale to learn what he can from books first. Lovely characterization of him, too!
"When I said you had no taste. That's not true. You were delicious."
And come on, the perfect ending line! Funny as hell, and sexy, too!
I can't say enough about how happy you've made me with this story, Secret Writer! I wasn't expecting NC-17, but it's tasteful and wonderful. The pacing of this was incredible. It didn't feel rushed at all, but you took the time to set it up in a loving way. And it was still funny! And sexy without being filthy! And charming and wonderful and ngk! That's all I can say now.
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! This is the best holiday gift ever!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 11:39 pm (UTC)Thanks for leaving such a long and lovely review - it was a pleasure to write the fic, and its even better knowing you enjoyed it.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 11:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 11:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 02:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 11:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 04:38 pm (UTC)Excellent work!
Mary
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 11:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 11:05 pm (UTC)My favorite line was shivering as he felt the hint of fangs nearly break the tender, swollen skin - especially 'the hint of fangs'. The words all fit. <3
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-22 11:44 pm (UTC)I actually thought it was a bit awkward, but its growing on me as I reread it. And I'm glad you liked it!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 12:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 06:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 05:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-23 06:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-12-28 05:18 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-01-02 10:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-05-01 04:23 pm (UTC)~smirks~ Crowley's such a liar. He definitely wants something in tartan-- it just so happens that the "something" in question is a certain angel.
This was wonderful. Hot and sweet and yummy and very much worth the read, over and over and over. Even out of season. Brilliant work!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-12-05 03:51 pm (UTC)