#Oh yeah if you have hepatitis b and it gets really bad you could throw up blood do to your liver failing

[herbertpocketsfidgettoys]

why did he do that

[thehomierobbstark]

Let’s Talk About Sex

Chapter 2 Intermission Chapter 3

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Reader [#TeamErikDon’tDateWhiteChicks]

Prompt: Aight, so iOKnoW bout yall but… I got some mad ‘fears’ about sex 😂😂😂. I got so many questions, so many horrible imaginations, so many embarrassing ass scenarios I’ve thought of in my head about what might happen when I finally do the do. Basically, ya girl been thankin (thinking) too much, and I done fucked around and thought up this shit. HUUUUGEEE shoutout to the BP groupchat for not only always keeping me entertained but for feelin me on this fic lmao. I’m so glad I’m not the only one who feel this way. Also shoutout to Poosy for her word contribution lmao.

A/N:  Ya’ll…. this really the shit that be going thru my mind lmfao like this really what I think about XD. I tried color coding the dialogue because I thought it would be too confusing but then I failed so fuck it XD. Also, it may seem like some of the words are grammatically incorrect or misspelled n the dialogue but it’s because I wanted you to read it like you would a text or message to better understand the delivery.

Warnings: At the bottom 👇🏿👇🏿👇🏿n uhhhhh yeah sit back and enjoy the journey 😂😂😂😂

This is for all my lil cute ass black gorditas out there rockin back fat, belly rolls and thick ass thighs that touch!!  x Reader is always gon be black, chubby, and sassy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Okayyy… you ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready.” You fidget nervously, fingers sweating between the joints, your heart skipping beats while you keep your eyes locked with Erik’s.

“Alright on three. One…two…three!”

At the same time, both of you flip over your papers, holding them out in front of you to show each other.

Your eyes eagerly scan over Erik’s paper, mind quickly gobbling up all the information the printed form had to offer you.

Your brain checked off each result as it read through:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patient: STEVENS, ERIK        Gender: MALE        Age: 26       DOB: 08/16/1992

COMPREHENSIVE STD PANEL RESULTS:

CHLAMYDIA                                    NEGATIVE

GONORRHEA                                  NEGATIVE

HIV TYPE 1                                      NON -REACTIVE

HIV  TYPE 2                                     NON -REACTIVE

HERPES TYPE 1                              NEGATIVE

HERPES TYPE 2                              NEGATIVE

SYPHILIS RPR                                 NEGATIVE

HEPATITIS A VIRUS ANITBODY      NON -REACTIVE

HEPATITIS B VIRUS ANTIBODY      NON -REACTIVE

HEPATITIS C VIRUS ANTIBODY      NON -REACTIVE

Thank you for choosing Planned Parenthood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A huge sigh of relief releases from your chest, sounding like a gush of wind as it escapes through your lips.

“Oh okay, so thats how u feel,” Erik griped, giving you a side eye look.

You ignore him, not even bothering to look for his reaction at your results, knowing they were all negative like you both knew they’d be.

Just as quickly as it left, your anxiety came rearing back as you snatched his test from his hands to take a closer look, eyes wide. “Wait! What does Non - Reactive mean?!”

“So you just gon ignore me then.”

“That means negative right? Where’s my phone!” your hands swing out to the sides to blindly feel around the couch before scooping up your device.

“-_____- really.”

“Okay! Okay, google says a non-reactive result means…” You mumbled over the quick-definition google supplied as you looked for the important bits, scanning between the paper and your phone. “ … and that no anti-bodies were found! So no!”

“Omg.”

You do a little happy dance as you double check to make sure all five tests define non reactive in the same way while Erik rolls his eyes.

“Y/N you fr googled that.”

“Yes nigga! Sexual health is important and I wanna make sure I’m clear and confident in my understanding of the results!”

“Okay, well, you makin a nigga feel bad n shit gettin all worried over his test results. What, you don’t trust me baby?” Erik looks at you, and his face is pouted downcast, almost looking like a adorably sad pitbull.

“Aww baby no!” You deny, immediately throwing your arms around him to comfort him, pecking his forehead with annoying kisses as you smush his face into your chest. He grumbly accepts your kisses, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“But I mean…. you was kinda a thotpocket back in the day tho..” You joke, shrugging, and he playfully pushes you back and sucks his teeth.

“Mann stfu.  You just acting all extra cuz your body count lower.”

“Erik, for the last time, I’ve never had sex before.” You say, crossing your arms to help your statement seem more serious than you felt. Erik was always messing with you, saying he couldn’t believe that you’d never had sex before at 25, and that there was just no way.

“Nah.” He states simply.

Your neck reels back a little bit.

“Wachu mean Nah??” You get ready to defend your undefiled past and the normalcy of 20+ virgins when he leans forward to nibble on your neck, distracting you.

“I mean..” He pulls your waist against him and reaches back to grab two handfuls of ass as he keeps nibbling.

“…nah, ain’t no fuckin way you this damn fine and you ain’t ever had nobody at least worship for hours between these thighs.” He rubs all over you, fingers gliding across the beautiful curves and body rolls that covered your voluptuous frame as he presses hungry kisses with delicious pressure against your throat.

“Nigga, you’re corny as fuck.” you try to insult him, but he gives a fat wet lick right above your collarbone that feels so good, and he squeezes your ass at the breathy moan that slips out of your mouth.

He pauses his ministrations on your body and pulls back from you, chuckling and shaking his head a little before resting his forehead against yours.

“What?” You ask him, thinking he’s poking fun at you. While you may have technically been a virgin, you and Erik had definitely been routinely messing around a lot.

In between your latest heavy petting and make out sessions, Erik had a bet going to see how quickly he could get you to moan without sticking his hands down your pants. He bet 30 seconds, you bet 45. So far you hadn’t been able to make it past 38.

“You’re the horniest, freakiest, yet most innocent virgin I’ve ever met.”

A part of you wanted to ask just how many virgins he’d met, but you decided to nip your jealous possessive side in the bud before it could get the better of you. It wasn’t time for her right now.

He leans back to look you in the face, his eyes pulling at the corners exposing the teasing smile he was trying to hide.

“Umm excuse me?! What do you mean innocent? If I recall correctly, didn’t I just have you creaming your bitch ass pants the other week from just grinding on you?” You throw at him, triumphantly crossing your arms and looking down at him.

“Why they gotta be bitch ass tho.”

When you’re heavy petting session last week had suddenly turned into a full blown dry grinding competition, Erik had been so caught off guard by the intensity he actually came all over himself inside his brand new black velvet joggers he’d just bought (in your defense, the velvet did feel really nice against the thong you had on).

The bewildered look on his face made you laugh so hard, you actually keeled over and fell off the arm of the couch.  He was over it at that point, storming off to the bathroom muttering threats about ‘getting that ass back,”, hence the bet you were currently losing.

“Also, lets not act like you not the same girl who can’t even watch male masturbation videos without making a face.”

“First of all there’s nothing sexy about seeing a dude jack off, so you can stop right there.”

“That’s because you’ve never seen ME jack off.” He jokes crudely. “Bet money I’d have your mouth watering within the first five strokes.”

“Probably watering because I’m bout to throw up,” You giggle childishly, a goofy grin on your face.

“Aight Y/N, you keep talking all that shit and we gon see who really still bout that action once I get them panties off.”

Your giggles come to a screeching halt as you gasp, and he buries his teeth in the side of your neck, his hands starting to wonder down south into the back of your compression shorts.  

You fight hard not to moan again this time while he chews lightly on your neck when you suddenly start to feel self conscious.

You unconsciously start squirming around on top of him, both in pleasure and slight confusion as he massages your cheeks, one in each hand, pulling and scrunching them between his fingers.  Your anxiety starts to slowly creep back up on you, and when he draws a line with his finger down your panties between your cheeks, you involuntarily clench up and yelp just as he reaches your taint. The feeling was stuck somewhere being too good yet too much at the same time. You damn near squeezed his finger to death before it could even reach its destination.

“Okay look,” you pull back, trying to reason with both him and your body. You didn’t mean to get jumpy all of a sudden but it’s like your muscles had a mind of their own.

“Baby wassup?” He immediately stops his movements and pulls his hands from you. “Did I hurt you?!” He immediately switched over from his sexually deviant demeanor to his overprotective one, concern lining his face.

“No, no baby your fine I’m just,” You blow out a breath, a little embarrassed by how twitchy you just got, and you try to shake it off by laughing at yourself.

It’s not like Erik had never groped you there before, but for some reason it felt 10x more serious now that you both basically had the green light since you’d received your test results back.

You knew both of you would almost immediately try to jump each other’s bones once you’d get the chance, but now that it was here it’s like the part of your brain that was previously occupied with worries of false negatives and unclear test results had been replaced with insecurities you didn’t even realize you had until this very moment.

“What? You good?” Erik was still studying your face, trying to see where your head was at.

“Yeah, yeah, no I’m good,” You close your eyes and nod quickly, “I just…umm…”, you’re face grows hot as you try to get out the next words, “.. I just got a little…. nervous…??” You peek an eye open. “I guess???”

You were trying so hard to relax and let go of your anxiety, but you just couldn’t stop feeling so nervous.  Especially not when you started to worry about what he might think about it.

“Can I uh.. maybe take a shower first? Or something?” You said trying to gear the conversation back into a normal flow. If you could just take a shower real quick…

“Yeah, of course, but what’s this about?” He still looked at you, eyeing you cautiously.

“I just don’t feel clean right now,” you say, making up excuses trying to find a way out of his wandering hands.

“Y/N, I just finished rubbing your clit in the car ride over here, what do you mean you’re not clean? Are you worried that I’m worried about that?” he asks you, not believing you’re serious about this.

“I meannn, it’s been like 30 minutes tho.” You lie.

“Y/N, I don’t care about that. I’m tryna see how you taste now and then. I don’t care if you still have cum on you, I’m eating that too.”

“Okay well I have to go to the bathroom, so..” You try to move off of him and onto the floor but he holds you still, not letting you escape.

Erik sighs. “Y/N, whats really goin on? It’s okay, you can tell me.” His eyes shift between yours like he’s trying to find the answer. “If you’re not ready to have sex yet, that’s okay. We don’t have to do this today baby.” He rubs at your legs tenderly, trying to comfort you.

“No, it’s not that, I just…” He raises his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for your next words. “I wanted to shave first. Because I have hair.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Shave? I just felt how trimmed you were-”

“Not that part.” You state plainly, hoping he’d catch your drift but have enough decency not to make it too obvious once he did.

“Y/N, I swear to god if you say legs I’m gonna-”

“Oh my God Erik my asshole, okay! I need to shave my asshole!” Your face is burning now from the embarrassment of having to say that out loud to your boyfriend and you feel like melting right into the couch into a puddle of nothingness.

The silence only lasts two seconds, but its one second too long for you and you try and scramble off his lap to go hide in the bathroom in shame. A gigantic bark of laughter breaks through from Erik’s chest, and it scares the life out of you, causing you to accidentally stumble onto the floor.

Erik’s doubled over in laughter now, tears threatening his eyes and you almost think he’s laughing at you when he rolls off the couch after you, laying his heavy body on top of yours and pinning you to the floor to keep you from getting away. He gets his last bits of laughter out with his face buried in your middle, and when he finally calms down he looks up, resting his chin on your torso.

“Y/N,” He states, looking at you.

“Erik.” you answer, avoiding his eyes.

“Y/N.” He leans in closer to you.

You clear your throat, still looking off somewhere else. “What Erik.”

“Do you really honestly think that some ass hair is gonna gross me out. Do you really think that?” He’s still smiling, looking at you with so much amusement and pure love in his eyes.

When he puts it that way, it makes you feel a little ridiculous thinking about how weird you just got over body hair.

“I mean… kinda?” You say honestly, and you finally look back at him.

“I know it seems stupid but I feel like thats not..”

“Normal?” He supplies for you. You nod your head in agreement.

“Baby,” he softly says, “Ass hair is totally normal. You know that.”

You did. “But I still feel like no one ever talks about it, and you never see it in porn. Not even the homemade ones.” Yeah sure it was normal but it still felt like this dirty ugly thing no one was supposed to speak about.

“Babygirl a lot of people have ass hair. Shit, I have ass hair. Most of the girls I’ve been with had ass hair.” He chuckles again a little, comfortable with the topic you were so afraid was gonna be awkward.

Your ears prick up at his last sentence, and you lean up a little bit. Something he said caught your attention and you looked at him intently.

“Really?” You ask, looking him in the eyes.

“Really what?” He looks at you confused.

“Really, most of the girls you’ve been with had ass hair?” You look up at him, so shocked.

“Yeah. And the ones who didn’t were always waxed anyway. I promise you baby, its not a weird thing.” He assures you, trying to make sure you really understood him.

You sat there for a second, looking off into space as your thoughts started working. And then just like that, your mind all but cleared itself as realization finally dawned on you. And you started laughing.

Not a single part of you could really care how many chicks Erik had slept with, you were just so glad that almost all of them had ass hair just like you did. You were honestly so grateful that he told you that last part, otherwise you would have never been sure whether or not you really believed him when he said it didn’t bother him.

In this one, small, truly insignificant instance with Erik, you were for once really glad you weren’t an exception to the rule.

Erik joins in your humble laughter, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. You close your eyes and kiss back, returning it with softer slower kisses as you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close.

After a minute he breaks away, letting his forehead rest against yours.

“I really love you Y/N. And the fact that you want me to be the one to share this experience with you makes me feel really lucky,”. He rolls you both over onto your side on the floor, giving your body a break from his heavy frame, and to be able to look at you better.

“I’d never jeopardize what we have for something as trivial as body hair.  I mean, sometimes I still can’t even believe that I really get to call you all mine, and I just refuse to believe that nobody else has been able to see what’s been so obvious to me from the beginning.”

Erik shuffles around nervously under your gaze, and this time he’s the one trying to avoid your eyes. You could tell he was in a really vulnerable state, not only from his body language but also with how he was trying to verbally express himself. It was always really difficult for the both of you to say how you felt about each other, not because you didn’t know the words, but because for some reason they always seemed to sound wrong in your ears once they came out your mouth.

You, however, knew exactly what he was trying to say, because he’d said it before. Not with words, but with actions.

Ever since Erik met you a year ago he’d done just about everything he could think of to let you know that he was all about you. Constant flirting, unexpected phone calls, surprise gifts to let you know he was thinking of you. It had thrown you off at first because you’d never been in a relationship before, so you couldn’t figure out if he was playing with you or not.

It took three whole months of nearly daily texting, dinner dates, late night car drives and ugly pre-work facetime calls (he swears you always looked beautiful, but the never ending eye crust you were always finding kept you second guessing) for you to finally take him seriously.

After a long conversation with yourself about taking chances and ‘trusting the universe’, you let yourself fall head first into the completely new experience of a relationship with Erik. You were determined to come out the other side just as soft and open-hearted as you were going into it, refusing to let whatever experience you had turn you cold to the idea of romantic love.

And so far, the experience had been everything you could’ve hoped for, and so much more.

Sure, there were bad days, and you were still too stubborn and he was too bossy and you both definitely needed to learn to listen more. But you were sohappy. And for the first time, you felt something with him you hadn’t been able to feel in a really long time. You felt secure.

So Erik didn’t need to say anything else, because you already knew exactly what he what he was trying to say.

He shifted his eyes again, about to open his mouth to try again and clarify when you cup his face in your hand, running a thumb over his lips to shush him.

“It’s okay Erik. I know.”

And you did.

The truth was, before him, you’d never really let anyone get close enough to try and be with you in a romantic way. You were always brushing off advances you thought were too good to be true and downplaying the other person’s feelings, no matter how hard you felt yours.  For a long time you thought that maybe you weren’t supposed to end up with anyone at all, and that your life journey was supposed to be about learning how to be on your own instead or something.

While you didn’t consider romance to be a super important part of life, you always wondered if maybe there was something that you were missing out on. You almost felt broken sometimes, like maybe there was just something about you that made you unworthy of being loved and cherished the way you saw your friends and family being by their significant others.

It took a lot of hard work and self reflection for you to finally get away from your negative thoughts, and you still struggled from time to time, but you were doing a lot better.

Being with Erik didn’t solve your problems, or cure your self doubt, or make you feel ‘complete’, but it did make you feel really warm and safe inside, and neither of you were willing to give up that feeling.

So he was right. He really did get to call you all his in every sense of the word. You took a chance on love, and you were lucky enough to fall into it with someone who shared just as much passion as you did. You’d be crazy not to give something like that your all.

Both of you lay there on the floor, looking into each others eyes with a level of understanding and comfort you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to truly explain. He holds your hand drawing heart shapes into your palm, the only sound being your favorite Spotify playlist that you didn’t realize was playing off in the background somewhere.

You’d been working on that playlist since before you even met Erik, song choices ranging from early 70′s love songs to present day baby makers. It was your sex playlist.  Even if you weren’t in the mood most of your favorite songs were on there.

“When did it start playing music?” your eyebrows furrow in confusion, peeking around for the source of the speakers.

“When I was trying to seduce your jumpy ass on the couch,” he answers matter-of-factly.

“N’Jadaka Stevens, were you trying to woo me?!” You tease him, poking at his stomach trying to tickle him a little bit.

He suck his teeth, caught. “Ok, maybe I was. So what?’

“Awww…” you say dramatically, making a show of it. You pause for a second “… gay ass.”

He laughs, mushing your face away, grinning like a little boy.

“Whatever. Shut your goofy ass up and come over here and lose this bet again.” He says, fake annoyed, and gets up to sit back on the couch, pulling you with him. You settle into his lap, resting your arms in place around his shoulders.

He starts placing soft kisses on your shoulders, starting off slowly. You already knew how this was gonna go and you throw your head back, whining.

“Ugh, I’m tired of losing this game dammit,” You huff to cover up the moan you already felt creeping up your throat. “Can’t we just skip to the fun part pleasee?”

You amp it up a little by plastering on an obnoxiously toothy smile, and he purposely ignores you to keep from faltering under your heart-melting grin.

“Mmmm…” He fake thinks about it for a moment, moving his lips up to the crook of your neck to tickle you with the vibrations. “No.”

Before you even get the chance to pout he scoops up your face in his hand, squeezing a little to make your lips poke out cutely.

“Nuh-uh. Don’t even start that shit.” He deadpans. “If you want me to fuck you, you need to open up your mouth and say it.  Otherwise sit back and hush and let me warm up my dinner.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warnings: A lil cheesy, a lil corny, a lil cliché, a lil fluffy. Just a lil of errthang XD. Also! Dare I say… romance?!?! (O.o)

Oh yeah this is a new series. Did I forget to mention that?

“Homie, how tf you gonna make a whole new series and you can’t even finish the ones you ha-”

Hush now child.

[vanxcks]

we’ll be fathers, sort of

chapter wordcount: 1232

Featuring clinics, lime green onesies, and lies coming from unexpected parties

masterpost (links to all chapters)

Read below the cut or on AO3 (link in notes)

They take a step onto the little staircase in front of the pediatric clinic’s door, and then Aziraphale turns around, hurrying back onto the sidewalk.

“Careful,” Crowley exclaims. Aziraphale had almost knocked Arthur’s little carrier. He’s swaddled up inside it, wrapped in a little white blanket in order to cover up his, using Aziraphale’s word, garish little onesie. Crowley argued that it’s only lime green, but he does admit that the sequins are a bit much. It delights him for no reason at all. 

“This is a bad idea. I told you from the start, and I was right. This is a bad idea.”

“Angel, you agreed to this. What is going on?”

“We can put him up for adoption, or, or—just miracle him healthy. I can’t do this,” he says, wretchedly.

Crowley makes an offended noise. “Didn’t know you found me so repulsive.”

“Crowley—we don’t have documentation! Birth certificates, and all of that. It’s not the middle ages, we can’t just barge in!”

“So, we’ll get documentation,” Crowley says, snapping his fingers and pulling a sheaf of papers out of his jacket.

“This is insane. You’re—you’re insane.”

“What has gotten into you? You were fine with this at breakfast.”

Aziraphale opens his mouth, then shuts it. “Fine. Fine!”

“Yes, angel, fine, that’s what it’s gonna be. Now c’mon.”

“But I am not lying! I refuse to lie.”

“Alright, fine, okay.”

Aziraphale frowns at him. “You’re doing all of this. Telling her we’re—we’re married, and giving her the fake documents. I’m an Angel, and I could get into so much trouble with the Head Office if they figure out I’ve been—consorting.”

“Just...get in,” Crowley says, pushing the door open. Aziraphale tsks and steps into the clinic, Crowley just behind, baby carrier in hand. They walk up to the counter.

“What is it?” says a harried looking man. Crowley smirks; it’s always just a little too gratifying to see people in bad moods, just because he knows it usually means he’s in for a commendation.

“We’re here with, um. A baby,” Aziraphale says, then looks at Crowley for help.

“We have to get his injections?” Crowley says, the end going higher so that it sounds like a question.

“Can I have his birth certificate?” the man asks. He’s speaking quickly enough that it sounds like the words are tripping over each other to get out. Crowley hands the fake document over, then makes two different phones ring, just to stress the man out. To take his attention of the probably not up to par certificate, too, but also just because it’s fun. 

Aziraphale frowns.

“Just, oh, heavens,” the man says, looking around. There’s no one else in the shop, and he reaches for the phone on his left. “Erm—I’ll need it’s medical records, too.”

“Er—medical records?” Aziraphale asks.

“From the hospital,” the man says, and then he’s rushing off, talking hurriedly on the phone. He clearly can’t tell that it’s just the radio playing on the other hand, not yet. Crowley can’t actually miracle a person to call anyone, at least not without a fair amount of effort. Watching the man’s mounting confusion is very amusing. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale whispers, frantic.

“Ngk—give me a moment,” Crowley says, snapping his fingers and pulling out another paper. “Oh, that’s not—that’s not right,” he mumbles. Aziraphale lays a hand on his shoulder. “What?” 

Aziraphale says nothing, just nods at the man at the counter, who’s put the phone down and is now looking much more anxious than before. “Medical records?”

“Here they are,” Aziraphale says, smooth as anything, and passes a paper that Crowley’s never seen before over the counter. It’s got a chart, and signatures, and everything.

Crowley raises his eyebrows at Aziraphale, who stares determinedly away from him. Crowley’s impressed.

“No record of a Hepatitis B vaccine,” the man says, hardly making it sound like a question.

“We actually adopted Arthur, and the nunnery where he was born didn’t have the vaccine on hand.”

The man scoffs. “Traditionalists,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“I—yes.” Aziraphale lets out an uncomfortable laugh.

“Here,” the man says, placing the documents back on the counter, “I’ve got you down for Vitamin K and Hepatitis B. Head in when your number comes up.” He slaps a little slip of paper with three-zero-zero-six on it onto the counter and heads off before they can reply.

“Dreadfully rude,” Aziraphale mutters, frowning. 

“Yeah,” Crowley says, staring at Aziraphale and not hiding his smile.

It takes about a half an hour for the pediatrician to finally call them in, and by that time all the staff of the little clinic are snapping at each other. Crowley hasn’t been in this good a mood in a while.

“Oh!” Aziraphale cries, pointing to the screen hanging in the upper corner of the room. “Three thousand and six.”

“Why, yes,” Crowley replies, and they head into the office.

The meeting itself is uneventful enough, save the fact that Aziraphale couldn’t watch Arthur get the shot. This, of course, prompted Crowley to throw his arm around his shoulders and say, affectionately, “oh, look away, sweetheart,” and then say conspiratorially to the pediatrician that “he’s a little afraid of needles. I had to hold his hand when he got his flu shot this year.” Aziraphale widens his eyes at him, blushing slightly, and Crowley pushes the normal fear and doubt out of his mind. He can’t not enjoy this.

They exit the clinic and step out onto the windy London street. Aziraphale adjusts his jacket, looking a little discomfited. Crowley puts a little more swagger into his step than usual, feeling the exact opposite of discomfited. He’s comfited. Extremely comfited.

“You all right, Angel? Feeling okay?”

“What the he—what was that, Crowley?”

“What was what?” Crowley asks, still smiling.

“The arm. And the—the affectionate anecdotes.”

“Ngk—you said it yourself, they’re affectionate anecdotes.”

“But they were lies! You made them up. And they made it sound like I was your—”

“Oh, your husband?”

“Yes!”

“I am your husband, Aziraphale. Or I was.”

There’s a few moments of silence, and then Aziraphale says, reluctantly, “I suppose it did help out credibility.”

“That’s the spirit.” Then, “And don’t call me out for lying, angel. That’s one thing you can’t be holier-than-thou about anymore.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. That was brilliant. Come up with all of that on the spot, did you?”

“If you must know, I prepared.”

Crowley lets out a bark of a laugh. “You prepared?” 

“I looked it up, last night.”

“On what, that ancient thing you call a computer?”

“Yes, on that ancient thing I call a computer. It was terribly confusing.”

“So, what, you prepared a lie? I thought angels never lied. I seem to remember you telling me I was insane when I suggested it.”

“Well, don’t go telling Gabriel,” Aziraphale says, and Crowley can’t stop grinning. If all the forces of Heaven and Hell told him, right now, to sober up and stop grinning, he wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t.

“Oh, I won’t. That was genius. All that documentation. Maybe there is something to say for research.”

“You liked it?” Aziraphale grins, that infuriating little blush back. Except it’s not infuriating, not now.

“Genius. I underestimated you, angel.”

“Oh, really?” Aziraphale can’t seem to keep his eyes on Crowley.

“Really.” And they head off toward the bookshop, laughing together.