Crowley smiled, his eyes gleaming under his black sunglasses. He headed towards you.

“Did you try everything?” he asked.

“The dates are heavenly ,” Aziraphale agreed, putting another piece in his mouth. “You must try one, Crowley.”

“I will,” the demon promised. “Later. But first, I'm going to taste something that's inviting to my imagination…”

His fingers brushed over your shoulder. His fingertips touched your sensitive skin, then...

“Ow !" you squeaked in surprise as he sank his canines into the exposed skin of your neck. 

When an angel wants to fit in with humans, she can't walk around with a snake-bitten neck like she's fine. So you tried to use a miracle to make it disappear, but as it turns out, miracles don't work on demonic bites, which is kind of unfair, but part of the Incomprehensible Plan, so you had to resort to some other method, without blaming the Almighty for creating the demon bite the way it is.

You used paint to cover it up. It was the first make-up experiment in history. Cleopatra will use your method in dark red, but it will be a long time before then, your injury will heal and heal many times over.

In any case, Crowley grinned as he watched you walk around for weeks, neck covered in paint. He was very pleased with himself, and you often caught him looking at you with his yellow snake eyes, grinning like he was planning to do it again.

When God confused the tongues of men, you were grateful to Him. 

Now, you could send the demon to Hell in countless languages.

IN THE 16TH CENTURY

Garbo.

Garbos everywhere.

Lace, frills, colours, fancy fabrics. You were very fond of the English Renaissance under Queen Elizabeth I. Mainly because of the full turtlenecks, which usually covered your neck magnificently. You could even forgive the low-cut dresses and corsets - although when silk scarves came along, looking back, the wide turtlenecks you once wore would have looked like clown costumes.

It was further satisfying to know that Crowley hated rules by default, let alone about fashion. He really despised the Sumptuary Laws, and cursed that he hadn't invented them, because they were truly demonic. In contrast, Aziraphale, who always put a lot of effort into his appearance, was fine with the expected attire, and always looked elegant with a pleasant smile. 

Sometimes, though, his smile faltered when his turtleneck grazed the bite marks on his neck. You stroked his upper arm sympathetically at such times, and yet: neither of you told Crowley to stop what he was doing on your necks.

You had no problem with early medieval times. The tight, plain dresses were simple and, importantly, the neck was not visible, only the back of the hands and the face, and after marriage, the hair - not that you married, it was just the fashion among married women. On the other hand, the pale ideal of the early Middle Ages, when women had blood drained to make them white as doves, was disappointing. Then came arsenical powders, the cause of many women's deaths. At the time, you were ashamed of inventing make-up, and so women wanted to tamper with their natural beauty with all sorts of talc fads. You have to suffer to be beautiful, they said, and they didn't realize that there was no need for any suffering because they were beautiful from creation.

Your determination was only further strengthened when it was discovered that Elizabeth I died of blood poisoning from using white lead on her face. And you thought the sixteenth century would bring radical changes…

Actually, there has been a radical change, but not in make-up.

Crowley invented the suction mark, which didn't swell up like a snake venom-infused wound and came in a variety of colours depending on how much time Crowley put into creating them. They made him feel like an artist, so he liked to tinker with them. He'd been paying devoted attention to your necks for a very long time, so you're actually used to it, it's become a tradition. 

In fact, you both kind of loved it.

IN THE 19TH CENTURY

The rice powder is made from natural ingredients. We're finally back here, you peacefully acknowledged at every social gathering. Usually you only powdered the back of your neck, but richly. The fashions of the 1800s called for ruffles, corsets, a relatively modest neckline, no turtlenecks or neck-covering. But a thorough, ornate make-up look was something every self-respecting woman had to create, and because you only covered your neck, you were often the victim of gossip.

When Aziraphale opened his bookshop and held a small gathering to celebrate with champagne, snacks and a ball, the ladies whispered a great deal about you, hiding behind their fans. They sized up your clothes, your make-up, yourself. They guessed how much of a goer you must be. It made them angry that even though you don't wear normal makeup, men still seek your company because you're witty and good, not jealous like them.

Crowley was annoyed by the women who belittled you, the men who complimented you, the fact that you had been hiding the fact that you were his for centuries. Just like Aziraphale, only he didn't seem as desperate as you to cover his marks. Although his top hat usually shaded them well, where it was appropriate to remove the headgear, nothing covered them.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley more and more often as if he knew perfectly well what the marks meant, just as he knew that Crowley was a cruel, unrelenting demon and would not say it.

When Crowley asked you to stop covering your neck, he was actually saying it. With his eyes shining mysteriously in the moonlight through the window, when Crowley took off his glasses and all the guests had gone, leaving only the three of you and the empty glasses and the crumbs. 

Tenderness and love. This is what his words would have tasted like if you had eaten them.

It was the same way Aziraphale looked at you when you caught him gazing at you, silent and dreamy, or when you simply spoke to him enthusiastically about something that interested and excited you as people once did when the Tower of Babel was raised, and he listened patiently, as if he had nothing better to do.

When you said all right to Crowley with a smile, that meant you loved him, too. 

Them, too.

NOWADAYS

“Um, are you–” Gabriel furrows his eyebrows and tries to decipher you with a polite smile. “What is this?”

You're wearing the purest white, as befits a visit to Heaven. Obviously Gabriel would not object to that. He wears mostly white, with a faint hint of blue. What he can't make out is the fluffy white scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, right up to your nose. You stand before him like a polar bear with a neck brace. Or an almost completely covered, ethereal mummy. 

Or maybe a spool of toilet paper. 

You pull the material slightly in front of your mouth to answer. 

“I'm cold,” you report with a blush.

“It must be exciting.” Gabriel admits that you've probably spent too much time on Earth, among humans, and its somewhat dulled your angelic senses. He clears his throat. “Well, we can get down to business then, let's not waste each other's precious time.”

You nod. He is absolutely right.

In the empty, snow-white-plastered heavenly hall, a table, a folder and a pen with wings - not a bijou, strictly used for official signatures - appear. Sighing, you take a comfortable seat, and as you take the pen, you give thanks that now women can wear comfortable and practical pants too. 

And, you add with even deeper satisfaction, great scarves.

...

Ignoring the closed sign, you rip open the door and burst into the bookshop.

“Sorry, but we’re closed– Oh, it's you.” Aziraphale smiles a greeting, then notices the upset on your face. “What happened, darling?”

“It was embarrassing to show myself like this in front of Gabriel,” you reply as you begin to unravel the fuzzy covering around your neck.

Aziraphale pats your upper arm piteously, presses a kiss to your temple and promises to bring you a mug of hot chocolate to help you relax.

Long time ago you promised Crowley you wouldn't cover his marks, but when you meet your angelic bosses, it's a different story. If they find out what's between you and him, they'll make hell in heaven. That doesn't impress Crowley, especially not today. Before you left, he had so covered your neck with his special love marks that a simple scarf wouldn't have been enough to cover it. Especially since he's recently returned to biting.

You'll find him on the sofa at the back of the shop. He's got a real proud smile that makes you want to throw a scarf at him. You throw the scarf at him. He catches it easily.

"You little..." you grit your teeth.

“Idiot? Shit? Asshole? The lowest of demons? Bitter of your eternal life?” He's playing with the scarf. He doesn't look up, doesn't admire the colorful patchwork he's created on your neck. Even better. If he would do it, throwing a scarf at him would not be enough.

"Lovely sweet creature," you say in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Bleh.” Crowley scowls. “That's a thousand times worse than you swearing.”

“I know. That's why I do it.” You sit down in the armchair furthest away from him and continue to stare at him harshly.

He sighs.

“My love, you're too beautiful with my marks on your neck. I cannot help it. And every man should know those are mine. Even the angels up there.”

Except Aziraphale. He already knows full well that if the blobs on your skin were to be exhibited as paintings, the artist's name would clearly be Crowley.

And you know what these marks are called these days, and that makes you happy. You ask, a little more lightly, if he knows. Crowley shakes his head.

“Love bites,” you tell him.

“It's only natural that they call it that. I invented it, and for thousands of years you and Aziraphale have been the only ones to get it. What else could it be?” Crowley gets up, comes over to you and squats down in front of you, taking your hand in his. He’s not wearing his sunglasses. His eyes are vivid, the sky glowing yellow behind the black sliver of the moon. "It's not something I give as punishment or temptation. It is exactly what it is called. Humans are smart enough to give it such a good name.”

“Well, well, you're praising the humans.” Aziraphale arrives balancing a tray on the low coffee table next to his open book and a stack of newspapers.

“Have you heard what my creations are called?”

“I don’t think so.”

The demon tells him. The angel blushes and starts passing out mugs. Crowley admires him, then turns to you.

“Will you sit with me?”

Luckily for him, you're not overly resentful. You nod, and you’d be lying if you said you weren't warmed by the sight of his smile and his hand reaching out for yours. You end up on the soft couch, his arm around your shoulders, your hot chocolate in your hand.

And love bites on your neck.

Frodo:

No, he’s not. He will absolutely learn though.

I think he’d find it really difficult to be in the moment. He’d need a partner who’s very patient and willing to take the lead most times.

He would be very good about aftercare, though. He loves cuddling up after and reading a book together.

He’d like to take things slow, both in a relationship in general and with sex. I headcanon him as demisexual personally. Like I genuinely don’t think sex is on his mind most of the time until he has that super deep connection with someone.

He’d be a super good kisser though I think. He loves kissing.

With Samwise, he’d be a pillow princess lmao. As I will talk about later, Sam is a PRO so Frodo would not have to worry about a thing. Sam has no problem taking the lead and focusing on Frodo’s pleasure over his own.

Samwise:

I don’t think I have to explain anything but I will anyway. Sam is INSANELY good at sex. Like, he canonically had 13 children, okay? All I’m saying is Rosie was getting treated GOOD

LOVES oral. Mostly giving but also receiving. He’s so good with his mouth it’s unreal

He’d be so nervous at first, whether it’s his first time ever or just with a new partner, but once he gets the hang of it he’s so confident and passionate

Aftercare legend as well. Doesn’t matter how tired he is, he’ll wind down with you and make a nice meal and bath before falling asleep, although once he’s older and there’s a bunch of kids he might pass out but he doesn’t mean to lol

Merry:

I don’t know why but I get the vibe from Merry that he thinks he’s very good at flirting and sex but he is absolutely not. It’s not because he’s disrespectful or selfish or anything like that, he just lacks some social awareness and always embarrasses himself when he tries to flirt.

So no, he’s not good at it, but he could be taught. You’d have to guide him a lot and tell him exactly what you want him to do. He’s very good at following directions, he just doesn’t have the innate instinct of how to move or where to put his hands etc.

Once he gets better at it though, I think he could be a switch. In canon I feel like Estella Bolger probably pegs him and he loves it lol

He’s the type to fall asleep right after sex. He feels bad about not staying up for aftercare but he always tires himself out. He prefers morning and day sex for this reason, he’d love doing it as the sunshine streams in through the windows and he’d even be down to do it outside by the river.

Pippin:

I’m definitely biased because he’s my hobbit husband but I genuinely think he would be good. He’s a golden retriever lover boy at heart and would do everything he can to make his partner feel amazing.

Also really good at eating out. You’re his seventh meal of the day, okay? He lovesss oral.

Has crazy stamina. He’ll go for as many rounds as you’ll let him.

His dick is bigger than average for a hobbit. Not to the point of it being painful, but still. I think in general the Tooks are bigger than average because they have an ancestor who was super tall and there’s theories of them having elf ancestry as well.

He’s a complete cuddle bug, so aftercare is very cozy and lovey dovey. He likes skin to skin contact and singing you to sleep. He also canonically loves baths and will definitely splash you.

Bilbo (Hobbit Trilogy Version):

He’s not, but he does have a lot of knowledge about it. He loves his books, and I’m sure there’s at least some books in The Shire about how sex works. So he knows how to do everything in theory but not in practice, basically.

He’s a fast learner, though. He would get the hang of it pretty quickly and get better with time.

Doesn’t have much stamina though. One round and he’s satisfied usually. And then he just wants to hold you by the fire with some tea.

With Thorin, he’d be in for quite the adventure lol. I headcanon dwarves as the freakiest of all the Middle Earth races so Thorin would introduce him to things that were definitely not in his books.

That said, I think Bilbo would be open to some kinky stuff.

General hobbit headcanons about marriage and sex:

Sex is not a taboo topic whatsoever among hobbits. It’s considered a natural and normal part of life and it’s not censored in conversation. Hobbits value love, marriage, and children greatly, and there’s really no reason for it to be a big deal.

Hobbits do tend to be fairly traditional though in their relationships. They usually go through a courting stage when they’re interested in marriage, and usually don’t have sex until their wedding night. Nobody would be shunned or judged if they didn’t wait, it’s just not the norm.

Divorce is unheard of in the Shire mainly due to everyone taking their time to choose their partners and being super loyal and devoted. Absolutely no “I hate my wife/husband” jokes, couples are genuinely in love with each other, and any mistreatment of one’s partner would be detrimental to your reputation.

Nobody’s going to the marriage bed knowing nothing. Young hobbits coming of age are educated by their parents and older siblings generally, and it’s not considered weird to ask questions about it. Hobbits aren’t super medically advanced, but they’re at least familiar with the anatomy and how stuff works.

Hobbits love going down on their partners. It’s weird if one doesn’t, honestly.

Everyone has full bushes. Hobbits are very hairy and they’ve probably never even heard of a razor. Body hair is so normal for them. And yes it’s curly lol.

Their dicks are generally more girthy than long. Dick size isn’t really a topic of concern though, hobbits don’t really care about it.

Hobbits aren’t usually freaky or kinky. There’s some that are, but it’s not the norm. They are very very passionate though.

They are very affectionate and silly during sex, they don’t get super serious during it. It’s supposed to be fun and full of love. Lots of smiles and laughter more than screaming lol. It’s not a performance.