#inexperienced crowley

[aziraphales-library]

Hello, hello, First of all, thank you so much for your work! Your library has helped to find so many awesome fics! :D There is just one question/fic idea I haven't found yet, even though I am sure something similar has been done before: Do you know any fics where Aziraphale and Crowley have sex, not (only) because of desire, but simply because humans make it look like fun and they're curious, want to try it out and they do it with each other because it seems like, idk, the most logical thing to do, or because they're already in love or something? Again, thank you for your service and have a nice day! :)

Hi and you're welcome! You may be interested in our #inexperienced aziraphale and #inexperienced crowley tags for similar fics to this. Here are some when one or both are curious about the human experience of sex...

A Little While Longer by IneffableToreshi (E)

In the Garden of Eden, a demon fell hard for an angel. Later, the angel is upset, and the demon thinks he knows a way to cheer him up...

When a Demon and an Angel Make Love, They Forget They Aren't Human by boredom (E)

Aziraphale has realized that with Heaven no longer controlling his every move, he's now free to do what he wants. And he wants to do Crowley.

Crowley, of course, is ecstatic and more than willing to fuck Aziraphale into the bed. Perhaps they shouldn't have forgotten they're not human, which means human structures may not be strong enough to support them.

Earthly Pleasures by AstroGirl (E)

Aziraphale has always thought that human sex looks like a great deal of fun. Perhaps now it's something he and Crowley can enjoy together.

Five Times They Weren't Very Sexy and One Time They Aced It by ZehWulf (E)

“Have you ever wondered what it feels like?” Crowley asks while contemplating the dregs at the bottom of his wine glass. He’s aiming for philosophical but fears the faint wheeze at the end of the question might have given him away.

“Have I ever wondered what ‘what’ feels like,” Aziraphale asks finally.

“Sex,” he says, much louder than intended or reasonable. They both wince. 

“Oh, have you never…?” Aziraphale asks with polite disbelief.

“You have?” Crowley demands.

Look, when you're largely inexperienced sex-favorable asexual ineffables, it takes a bit of practice, a lot of communication, and some bull-headed persistence to get your sex life in commendable working order. Or, five times things got (hilariously) awkward during sex, and one time after they've got it mostly figured out. A companion fic to "Scratching That Itch." (Sex acts, such as they are, tagged per chapter in chapter notes!)

The ducks and the bees by Yoite (E)

"Um", the angel cleared his throat. "Well, as we know, when humans like each other, sometimes, they, er, give each other a.. special hug."

"Are you asking me to sleep with you?"

Aziraphale wants to investigate what this whole sex malarkey is all about, but nothing goes according to plan.

Chemistry by Twilightcitysky (E) (WIP)

Aziraphale and Crowley have been living among humans for 6000 years, but there have always been parts of the human experience they've chosen to avoid (like allergies, head colds, and having to use the loo).

They've also never let hormones get in the way of making rational decisions, because they didn't have any hormones to speak of.

That's all about to change.

- Mod D

[gaymingintrovert]

I hate Muriel being infantilized I hope they get to say fuck in season three

[transgendercastiel]

This is DIFFERENT to who the better character is this is based PURELY on who was giving us more

[denaphoenix]

The Crow Road

One thing people have not yet talked about enough is that, when Crowley tries to get rid of Muriel in the bookshop, he's annoyed at first and just wants to push them away. But when he sees them genuinely smile when they ask if they can have a book "because they're like people", he doesn't just let them take one at random to get rid of them. No, he internally goes "Well, let's see, why don't we?"

And then he gives them The Crow Road by Iain Banks, a book with a nonlinear narrative that deals with the complexities of love, family dynamics, different belief systems, while also having a murder mystery and jerking the reader around with zero warning. A book that is full of complex concepts, and full of dark humor and sin.

Not the kind of book you would expect a simple-minded, innocent, naive angel to enjoy.

But they LIKE IT.

[f0ul-f13nd]

A Social Construct Ch 13: an enviable proposition

Heavy eyelids stuttering open, Crowley stumbles from oblivion into wakefulness and disorientation.

Last night, his past and his present, orbiting one another like binary stars, had finally succumbed to their mutual gravity and crashed violently together, reorienting the centre of his universe. Now he’s unmoored, the fabric of spacetime bent around him like the tartan duvet tangled around his shins.

Where is he? What time is it?

His internal clock insists it’s late morning, but the light is all wrong. Where’s the harsh sun that slants through his cheap plastic blinds? This strange room is dim, dust motes dancing through the filtered glow from the heavy drapes.

Why is this mattress so – so soft? The feather pillow beneath his head carries a hint of vanilla and bergamot, of tea and old paper.  

Oh. Aziraphale.  read more here

[thereallovebug]

How in the world did they do this dialogue with a straight face? And what assumptions are we to make from it? 😆

Good Omens | 2.04 The Hitchhiker

[ohsc]

okay, so— I have two ideas. That are basically on the same wavelength. Could you maybe do a Castiel x demon!user smut fic or a Crowley x Angel!user smut fic??

hi lovely!! tysm for the req! | crowley x fem!angel!reader, 1.1k, nsfw 18+, oral (m receiving), corruption, dom!crowley, inexperienced!reader, dirty talk, praise, slight hair pulling, unedited

“This must be new for you, hm?”

Crowley couldn’t keep the smug look off of his face. It sent a thrill through his bones to look down at the sight in front of him, eyes burning with desire.

The angel was on her knees. For him. It made him bristle with arousal anytime he looked at her. He could feel it thrumming in his veins, beneath his skin, his eyes darkened with it as he took in the sight.

“Aren’t people usually on their knees for you?”

She looked so fucking precious, and it made it all so much better. Eyes widened, face pink, this little innocent glint in her eye. She was even wearing white for fuck sake. This was basically a fantasy coming to life for him.

He took another step forwards, until his belt buckle was parallel with her eye line. But before she could reach forwards he reached his hand down and tipped her chin up with his knuckles. “You know what to do sweetheart?”

He didn’t miss the way she gulped, eyes flickered down to his hardened dick in his slacks before back up at his face. “I’ve never…”

“Of course you haven’t,” he cooed. “Pretty little angel like you, I’d expect no less,” Crowley pinched her chin, before his thumb moved up and pressed down on her bottom lip, played with the plush skin until her lips parted slightly, revealed her pearly whites. “Just need you to be a good girl and keep your mouth open for me, okay? I’ll do the rest.”

Crowley pulled his hand from her face in favour of unbuckling his belt and tucked his thumbs beneath the waistbands of his slacks and his boxers, pulled them both down together. His cock was almost painfully hard, the thought of fucking her mouth — an angel’s mouth — was driving him crazy.

Her eyes had widened and he smirked.

“Ready?” He cupped her jaw and tipped her head up, and pressed down on her lip until she opened her mouth again. “Good girl, little wider,” when he was satisfied with how wide her mouth had opened her pat her cheek almost mockingly. “That’s it, love. Just keep that open for me, alright?” He took the base of his cock in his free hand, pumped himself a few times, before he grunted, “stick your tongue out for me.”

She did as she was told, and he groaned. She was such a fucking sight. This was probably, and literally, the most sinful thing he’d ever done. And he was the King of Hell.

Crowley placed the tip of his dick against her tongue and grit his teeth, groaned low in the back of his throat as he slowly pushed his cock into her mouth. It was so warm and wet and this was such a fucking sin that it made it hard for him to hold back and be a little rougher.

But Crowley wasn’t heartless. Well, he was, but he wasn’t heartless to her. He cared about the pretty little thing, more than he should. He was going to be gentle.

“That's it, fuck-” with every inch that was concealed in her mouth it felt like fucking heaven, literally, and his hand moved from her jaw to curl his fingers in her hair, gripped tightly enough to keep her head still, but not so she couldn’t pull away. “Feels so fucking good, love.”

He pushed in a little more, but he felt her hands grab at her thighs, and he quickly pulled out again. “You okay?”

She was breathing heavily, lips wet with spit as she blinked up at him. “Uh-huh, just… not used to it.”

“Mm, I know,” he cooed, and god it felt so good to be the first person who had done this with her. His mind was already racing with other things he wanted to do to her, with her, on her. “You wanna try again, love?”

Only when she had nodded did he tighten his grip on her hair again, and slowly pushed his cock back into her mouth. He groaned, not sure if it was her mouth or the way that her eyes rolled back as she took him that made his dick jump. Her hands were still grasped at his thighs, and his free hand cupped her face, wiped away a line of spit with his thumb.

“You’re so fucking good for me, you know that?” Crowley grunted, pulling back a little before he slowly thrusted back in. “So good that I’m-“ another thrust. “-the first one to fuck this pretty little mouth-“ another. “S’just like you were made for me, isn’t it, angel?”

He hadn’t been at it for long, but he was already so close. His grip on her hair tightened just a little bit more, the warmth of her mouth, press of her tongue, and the pretty fucking expresion on her face making his cock throb and his balls tighten.

“Gonna be a good little thing for me, hm?” He grunted. “Gonna take everything I give you? Swallow everything you take from me?”

Her eyes opened, big doe eyes that met with his, and he knew her answer was a yes.

“Good- fuck, love-“ his pace became a bit jerky and inconsistent as he got closer and closer. “Gonna cum- fuck-”

Crowley groaned as he came, right down her throat, and his fingers tightened in her hair, but if it was painful she didn’t complain. He thrusted a few more times, just to ride it out, before he slowly pulled back and slipped out of her mouth.

Then she swallowed. What a fucking sin she was.

“Oh good girl,” Crowley groaned, and eased her back to her feet as he took in the sight of her, the wetness of her lips and chin. He kissed her, far too wet and gross for an angel, and kept her face framed in his palms when he pulled away and looked at her. “How was that, hm?”

She was clearly bashful, dainty fingers wrapped around his wrists as she blushed. “Good.”

“Yeah?” Crowley chuckled and kissed her again. He could taste himself. “‘Course it was. Such a good little thing for me, aren’t you?”

She blinked, didn’t answer.

“That wasn’t rhetorical, sweetheart,” Crowley tapped her cheek with his thumb. “You were good for me, weren’t you?”

“Yes.” She whispered.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I was good for you.”

He was half hard again. “Yes,” he kissed her again, mumbled into her mouth as he started backing her up towards his throne. “You were.”

[laurashapiro-noreally]

Looking for something to read?

Oh look, it's another recs post! This time I'm featuring two stories per author. These are writers I always make time for, whose work stands out as unusually hot, clever, funny, or smart -- sometimes all of the above.

I'm gonna start you out strong with two by @werpiper: After Hours takes Aziraphale and Crowley to the baths after their oyster supper, and all sorts of interesting pleasures are there for our angel to sample. Piper's Crowley is one of my favorites: always evaluating the situation, not quite aware of what his own heart is doing but feeling it anyway.

Fitting In is a new story, still a WIP, but I am utterly tantalized by Muriel's first taste of love -- and tea. This is already rich in detail, soft and fragrant, and I can hardly wait for the action to get going in earnest. The pairing seems surprising but when you think about it for ten seconds of course it makes sense. Sex workers help the curious, the awkward, and the inexperienced every day, bless them.

If you enjoy these, check out @werpiper's back catalog -- they have done a ton of ineffables-through-the-ages, and their series Miracles and Heresy is worth many delightful hours of your time.

I love what @copperplatebeech has been doing lately:

He's Not My Friend is a T-rated story that explores Aziraphale's constant refusal to acknowledge his relationship with Crowley, and Crowley's mirror of that, and how things glacially shift over time. It is subtle and yet specific, it will make you ache and smile.

All Of The Above, also T-rated, is a warm and fuzzy alternative to that, a hilarious celebration of true friendship that made me laugh out loud and still got me right in the feels.

@copperplatebeech can do everything, from quiet, gentle, and romantic to devastating plotty AUs to extraordinarily horny established relationship to absolutely ridiculous humor. Do dive in if you haven't already.

Next up, @cumaeansibyl, master of kink:

better living through technology manages to shove everything I want in a dirty story into less than three thousand words: uptight Aziraphale reduced to sodden wreck, Crowley gleefully showing him what he's been missing, character-driven erotics, and exceptionally funny dialogue.

indulgentiam peccatorum nostrorum is somehow all that and more, turning the "I was wrong" dance into a kink (something I can't get enough of, recs welcome). This one is post-Bastille so it is extra-juicy. Mind the tags!

@cumaeansibyl has a gift for established relationship one-shots, which readers of mine will know are my entire jam. They also have a mind-meltingly hot inverse!omens AU that features different variations of angelic/demonic Crowleys and Aziraphales for our ineffables to play with.

A new-to-me author, Calico, has me hanging by a thread with their Ineffable Romans series. If you want to remember that your ineffables aren't human, that they are inordinately clever but very stupid, that the feelings they have for each other are truly beyond what anyone alive has ever felt, Calico may be the writer for you. This stuff is deep. Also hot af.

Sub Rosa reads like a nasty shag at Petronius', but there's so much more going on here. It is Extremely Queer, driven by power dynamics, and Crowley is fully demonic here and absolutely in control...or is he?

The Intemperance of Liber Pater continues on this theme, with dialogue-driven smut that reads less like a seduction than an inevitability. There's another story in this series, unfinished, and I can't wait to see what happens next.

Last but not least: two short pieces by @ineffabildaddy. I stumbled on their stories just this week and I absolutely love their approach, which I've not seen done quite this way before.

take me as your wife has a tight first-person perspective as Crowley meets Aziraphale for a meal and imagines (or is it his imagination?) that Aziraphale is suggesting Certain Things about how they might occupy themselves later. Indeed, is he suggesting even more? Something about their relationship? Or is it all in Crowley's head?

Only in Dreams is kind of a companion piece, from Aziraphale's point of view -- though hundreds of years later. This one's set after the events of S2 and although just as romantic as take me as your wife, it also offers an ineffable take on the ol' glory hole concept. Just in case you thought I was getting soft. 😏

@ineffabildaddy has a whole series of poems and ficlets like these and I can't wait to explore them all.

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: litany in which certain things are crossed out

A beaten-down Aziraphale opens a bakery in the small town of Tadfield, where he finds an all-night greasy spoon and one fallen Crowley, who is making amends through various and increasingly ridiculous means of community service. Features an inexperienced!Aziraphale, Crowley the town ne’er-do-well, and Crowley’s self-appointed protector, young Adam. 

Length: 30,909 Words

AO3 Rating: Explicit/ Spice Level 🔥🔥

Best for: Safe in Public, Human AU, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

Triggers: None/Read Author's Notes

Read it here, fic by Ayes

*Minor Spoilers* I get overwhelmed sometimes when I stop to think about the fact that even after reading hundreds of fics of these two characters, it is still magic to me. How they slot together, how they mend each other's jagged edges, how they are meant to be. It's just beautiful and no media has ever come close to what this pairing does for me, and this fic was the perfect reminder of that fact.

Aziraphale has just moved to Tadfield to open a bakery, hoping for an escape from a life that has been nothing but guilt, repression, and shame. In town, he meets the wildfire that is Crowley. Fallen from grace, Crowley spends his days doing community service as his penance. Both runaways looking for a fresh start, who discover a home in each other. This work really captures them beautifully, so true to their roots but with a powerful take of it's own. It's soft, domestic, the most beautiful fantasy of finding someone who you just fit with.

The love story between the pair is the star of the show, but the rest of the cast are outstanding as well. I love spending time in Tracy and Shadwell's pub, and Adam was the perfect way to round out their family. And I can't forget to mention good girl, Lucy, our lovely dog friend who always made me smile. I would read a million words of this story, I want to know everything about this town and it's residents. I want to watch lazy days in the bakery, and sit at their table at dinner time. And what I also really really want is to live in Crowley's greenhouse. It sounds perfect! So beautiful and cozy, I want to lay in bed while it rains with Golden Girls in the background. The landscape and buildings here were rich characters of their own.

Simply put, this fic is gorgeous. Going by the notes, it looks like this was actually written in 2017 (book omens), taken down, and then reuploaded this year. Thank someone it's back up because I needed to read this one. There's a short, non explicit scene, but you'll be fine in public if you wish. Though, I think this one is best suited to home or at least a nice quiet and contemplative space.

Read it here, fic by Ayes

[somehow-a-human]

Good Omens & Visual Tarot - Part 1

I have been fiddling with a few different posts that are going to take a while longer still to complete. In the meantime I decided to do a little bit of a Good Omens Tarot visual analysis.

*Disclaimer* I am not a tarot expert, I am using visuals simply to equate these scenes to the Rider-Waite Tarot deck. Most of the limited meaning and analysis have been pulled from various tarot websites.

I hope you enjoy looking through these! They are not super deep or intensive but were very fun to put together :) They are ordered first by Major Arcana, then Minor Arcana, and finally Court Cards.

THE FOOL

The Fool represents the willingness to take risks, being inexperienced, improvisation and beginners luck. Aziraphale and the 1941 magic debacle are very fitting for the fool card. He doesn't know he's just endangered Crowley in front of Hell, doesn't know about the miracle blocker, and what they are about to face. Teetering dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. Yet, they've just somehow successfully escaped the stage unscathed.

----

THE MAGICIAN

The Magician represents one's potential, and capability to harness one's potential, especially in a situation where transformation is needed. It brings to mind the change that's needed in Heaven, the work Aziraphale needs to do to fix a broken system.

----

THE EMPEROR

The Emperor sits on a throne, flanked by dual rams heads. This card represents leadership, power, authority, courage, and intelligence. The Emperor is considered to be someone who is very powerful. Crowley's powers and past angelic identity are still somewhat of a mystery to us, and we have good reason to believe he was indeed a powerful figure. Could this be foreshadowing as well?

----

THE LOVERS

While The Lovers in modern decks often has a romantic reading, traditionally this card represented a crossroads in a relationship. Choices between life paths, and commitment. Aziraphale and Crowley choosing their side at the end of season one reflects this crossroads and decision very well.

----

THE CHARIOT

The Chariot represents overcoming conflict and moving forward, but the charioteer is warned to be wary of the way ahead. Crowley rushing back to Aziraphale after the Book of Life threat is ready to move past their earlier conflict and move forward. But danger might lie ahead.

----

THE HERMIT

The Hermit represents the ability to recognize a 'teacher in a humble disguise', wisdom and enlightenment. Though it takes Aziraphale millenia, I think he eventually does recognize Crowley is a teacher or a guide in disguise for him, helping him sort through the abyss of human morality.

----

THE WHEEL OF (MIS)FORTUNE

The Wheel of Fortune card reminds us that life is ever changing and moving, we cannot stand on top of the wheel indefinitely, where we think we finally may see and understand things clearly, it will always turn. Looking at the Good Omens Wheel of Misfortune, it has interesting items like "going abroad" - a nod to season 3 possibly being set at least somewhat in New York?

----

THE TOWER

The Tower represents disaster, distress, and upheaval. There is an unforeseen catastrophe that will need to be weathered. I believe Aziraphale's emotional journey in the Job minisode exemplifies this perfectly. His realization that he has reached a turning point in his beliefs, his willingness to fall to save Jobs children and defy the Almighty... The path going forward will be difficult.

----

PART 2 (coming soon)

[aziraphales-library]

Hello, I’m looking for fics where Aziraphale has religious trauma specifically around sex. I wanna see him and Crowley working through it to have a healthy sexual relationship. Preferably on the shorter side like 20k ish or less but not super picky about that part. Thanks!

Hi. Here are some fics in which Aziraphale has religious trauma and explores sex with Crowley. Most of them are on the longer side, sorry...

Snake Lessons by chamyl (E)

“That’s the point, Crowley!” Aziraphale snapped. “I’ve never done this before. I couldn’t. They kept track of what we did with our corporations, and I’m sure Hell doesn’t care, but Heaven was very much clear that angels are not supposed to indulge in sex.” Crowley didn’t know how to respond to that. He tried to start several sentences at once, producing an array of incoherent sounds that made no sense at all. When he finally regained control over his tongue, he asked, “Not once? In six thousand years?”

in your own time by ineffabildaddy (E)

Aziraphale and Crowley grew up together as next-door neighbours on Hogback Lane, classmates at the local Catholic school, and inseparable best friends. By the age of eighteen, both were hopelessly in love with the other, despite the knowledge that they were doomed to live apart, as Crowley aimed to pursue university study in London and Aziraphale committed himself to remaining in Tadfield, dedicating his life to the Church. After almost twenty years spent away from his hometown, renowned botanist Crowley decides to come and visit Tadfield again at a moment's notice; the purpose of his visit is to speak at a Careers Day for the school he and Aziraphale, now a beloved priest and a frequent helper at the school, attended. The twenty-four hours that follow will change both of their lives for ever.

Night and Day by wyrmy (E)

Aziraphale Engel, black sheep of his strictly religious family, lives a quiet and monkish existence in the middle of London, trying to avoid the many temptations of the flesh and do his bit for the church that his father founded. But his quiet, untroubled, and unhappily narrow existence is about to come to an end, and he will be faced with the choice to give up even more of who he is or to survive in the real world.

Ink Stained Bleeding Hearts by WillowTea (E)

Ready for a fresh start, Anthony J. Crowley opens shop across the road from a lovely tattooist, Aziraphale Fell. After everything he's been through, Crowley is not ready to fall head over heels for Aziraphale, but he can't stop himself. The two navigate their new friendship and budding romance while addressing past hurts.

Out of Suffering Into Love by Slow_Burn_Sally (E)

Aziraphale is a sexually repressed man who grew up in a religious household. Crowley is an artist with a sordid past. Both of them are afraid to love and be loved.

Hired Heart by GayDemonicDisaster (E)

As a result of his sheltered upbringing, Aziraphale made it to 50 without exploring his sexuality or coming out. After 50, all that changed - he's gay, he's out, and wants to find love. He also wants to have sex. He's a tad nervous about that. His friend Agnes suggests he consult a professional and get some no-strings practice and advice, and build some confidence. And her friend Tracy runs an agency… Crowley has quite the breadth of sexual experience: he’s a high class escort. He’s been in his line of work for a long time, though in this industry, that’s not exactly an advantage. He likes his work, but the more he’s reminded that he’s not as young as he once was, the more he contemplates his exit strategy. When his bookings manager and friend Tracy gives him a new, nervous client, Crowley finds him unexpectedly captivating. In fact, Crowley can’t seem to get him out of his head. A Smitten Crowley is also a very silly Crowley, so prepare for giggles and fluff along with your love story and smut... This fic is sex worker positive, disability positive, & a variety of genders and sexual preferences are referred to in back story.

- Mod D

[harmslength]

(Mostly) NSFW Headcanons Part III

Disclaimer: Slight spoilers so be warned. Just covering movies I have seen or characters I know enough about to judge. This is just for funsies, just my own personal opinions, so it’s totally okay if you disagree. Fully aware how much of an ass I’m being. Horny hater at my core.

Disco Pigs (2001) | Enda Walsh, Kirsten Sheridan - Darren

• starting out strong with THE freak of freaks

• not to state the obvious but.. possessive, dominating, jealous asf but also loyal asf

• Incel ass behavior, would definitely have a Reddit account, frequent user of 4chan.

• would jerk off to hentai titties if he could

• would probably ask you to do the ahegao face during sex…

On the Edge (2001) | John Carney - Jonathan Breech

• as much as he would hate to admit it.. hopeless romantic. Super devoted but would have an annoying tendency to flirt with other girls to see if you’d get jealous.

• honestly.. great first bf to have. Would absolutely destroy your perception of what love should be.. but hey isn’t that first loves?

• heavy breathing and moaning in your ear. Loves to give hickeys.

Sunburn (1999) | Nelson Hume - Davin McDerby

• oh davin… dead beat baby daddy fr.. loved his character arc regardless tho

• ngl probably absolute shit in bed. He screams premature ejaculator..

• has a porn addiction, but would hide it from you

• would pick up edging and would talk about your sex life very openly with “the boys”

• loves sending nudes and nut vids if he had the chance

Intermission (2003) | John Crowley - John

• he has no qualms about saying it: you’re a whore 😌

• probably feels the need to be in charge and take control but really.. you’d be the one calling the shots mostly

• definitely the type to make stupid jokes during sex

• whiny, would definitely triple text if you didn’t respond fast enough

• still a cutie ofc

• jealousy is his middle name

Girl with the Pearl Earring (2003) | Peter Webber - Pieter

• breeding kink but not in the fun way. Breeding kink in the way where he would wanna fuck like rabbits and procreate like rabbits.

• would want you to have like 6 of his kids is what I’m saying

• acts like he’s touch starved half the time, really handsy, likes to tease and leave kisses all over you

• knows how to handle his meat

At Deaths Door (1999) | Conor Morrissey - Young Reaper

• this one is just for shits and giggles

• it’s giving virgin, inexperienced but passionate

• shy asf, again you’d probably have to make the first move

[hadit93]

Frustrations with Modern Thelema.

A couple of days ago I proclaimed that Thelema as a spiritual movement was dead, inert, and dull as dishwater. This was perhaps a harsh critique, but it cannot be denied that the majority of Thelemic circles have become stagnant, simply parroting Crowley instead of thinking for themselves. I do not believe Thelema as a current is dead. Thelema as a magical paradigm is very much so alive, vibrant, and filled with life. The issue is: Few people are willing to truly engage with it. Thelema is for all, but at some point upon engaging with it sheep will have to become wolves, the sleeping will have to become the awake; people will have to think for themselves.

My irritations with Thelemites have been going on for some time, you get into a discussion and if you say something they don’t like, they have a Crowley quote to back their ideas up and believe this is enough to shut your opinion down. Half of the time there is another Crowley quote that contradicts theirs because he often changed his mind, as we are all apt to do over the course of our lives. Not every word he penned was golden, some of it certainly was brilliant, other things were less…..sublime. 

Furthermore, we know a lot more about historical practices now, we know a lot more about the Golden Dawn practices, and yoga. Crowley certainly synthesised numerous currents into his magical system that was born out of and permeates the Thelemic current, but there were resources which were simply not available at the time. To ignore these advances in occultism is ridiculous. To follow any system unquestionably and without trying to find the best fit for the individual is ridiculous. Crowley died nearly 80 years ago, the world was a very different place, the magical world was a very different place, and I believe Thelema was written down by Crowley for us as Thelemites to develop. My question is: Where is that development today? There are a few notable people making innovations; however, the majority are still practicing magic blind to all that has come before and after Crowley.

Then we have the magick is simply psychological exercises designed to calm you down camp. Performing banishing rituals instead of smoking a cigarette. I don’t understand when Thelema began to have the magic and spirit stripped out of it, but it needs to stop. I am sick to my teeth of seeing Crowley quoted that spirits are part of the brain. I don’t care what he said at that time. He was young, inexperienced, and going through a stage of atheism. It is apparent from his life, his diaries, and his later thoughts that Crowley believed in the spiritual world, in discarnate entities, and in magic. His life would have perhaps ended in much more luxury and comfort if he didn’t believe in the spiritual. 

To all the Thelemites who ridicule me, asking “You actually believe in spirits?” Yes, yes I do. I do not proclaim to understand what they are, or even how they function. But my experiences dictate to me that there is something ‘other’ going on when magic is performed with external entities. Too many weird things have happened in a magical circle for me to simply put it down to a psychological projection. In fact, treating these things as a psychological protection can be dangerous at times in my opinion. Furthermore, if you are practicing magic as a form of therapy, just get therapy! You will save time and money. 

Again, I have plenty of experience, and it is my experience that I use as guidance in my own path. I have read almost everything Crowley has written: the good, the bad, and the ugly. I have engaged with Thelema for over a decade, I have been involved in AA, I have studied with other Thelemites, and I have practiced all that time. I have also practiced other traditions, found common ground, and related it back to Thelemic philosophy. I do not need Crowley’s words to back up my opinions any more, and his words will also not undo my opinions either. Especially when his words are misunderstood by the masses, who fail to comprehend his meaning and equally fail to understand his sarcasm. 

So what am I going to do to tackle this problem? To stop the stagnation of this spiritual movement? I cannot moan about it and then proceed to do nothing. I am going to start writing again, I will start sharing my ideas and my practices again. I stopped because the hate I was getting was simply not worth it. I don’t live a dramatic life, I would rather not argue with strangers on the internet. I have much better things to do with my time. So I shall respond to the hate with the most powerful magic of all: silence. 

[via-l0ve]

What kind of dates do you think those Supernatural boys like? c:

Dates with the SPN boys 🫶🏻

a/n: this is such a cute idea. i love them all so much. i made moodboards for this!! xx

warnings: swearing, im inexperienced when it comes to moodboards so apologies if they’re shit lol

Dean Winchester:

i think that Dean is a very simple man!! for a first date i think he’d take you to a bar or a little diner and get to know you, just chatting and eating and having a good time. He pays and you guys take a little walk down to a pier or something and you guys just sit and talk even more. After knowing you/dating for a while, i think he would do more casual dates. Cuddles in the motel room with takeout, watching the stars on the top of the impala, attempting to bake with you, just everything. he’s such a cutie. i love him.

Sam Winchester:

Sam totally takes you to his house/dorm (college days)/ motel (when dean isn’t there) for a first date. you guys play mario kart and order pizza and play card games. you’re shocked how good he is at poker. After knowing you for a while/dating he’d get more adventurous and take you to little museums or carnivals or restaurants. but sometimes the poor boy just wants to cuddle up to you and binge some tv.

Castiel:

Castiel 10000% blips you and him to a flower field and you guys just talk and he talks about heaven and how it is to be an angel. he compliments you all night. “your looks are some of gods best work.” AWWW. after knowing eachother for a while/dating he makes you show him all of your favorite human tv shows and movies and you guys just cuddle and watch them. i think he’ll take you to the mall and watch you do a fashion show for him and let you pick out his outfits aw BOARD GAMES TOO. GAME NIGHT DATES!!!

Crowley:

Crowley likes getting to know people. he likes to know their secrets and what makes them tick and stuff and i think he knows exactly how to unlock all of that. he would ask you all the best questions about yourself and butter you up. he takes you to a bar or a restaurant to start and then slowly moves to more casual little date nights. he takes you to see a movie and sits through it even though he notices all the cringe dialogue and plot holes. what a sweetheart !

[black-bentley-niatruc]

Fic

Title: The Mind-Body Problem [part 2/3]

[A bonus smutty thing happening between chapters 20 and 21 of my main Human AU fic]

Fandom: Good Omens

Category: M/M

Relationship: Aziraphale/Crowley

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: filthy smut, check below for any squeaks/no-no's

Additional tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot; touch-starved; Crowley has a praise kink; inexperienced Crowley; experienced Aziraphale (kind of); fluff; first time; first time topping; first time things; chest-fucking; Aziraphale is a Pillow Princess; Crowley is a tease; Aziraphale has an oral fixation; angst (thanks, Crowley!); barebacking; butt plugs; anal sex; low-key D/s vibes, but not a 'proper' D/s setting; rough sex; safe, sane and consensual; kinky; more angst (thanks, Aziraphale!); face-fucking; Aziraphale is a mess; coming untouched; virginity kink; Aziraphale is a tease; first time bottoming

Words: 3575

Originally published: 2024-05-28

Summary

“I know we were meant to go on more dates, but could we spend the whole weekend here?” Crowley asks nonchalantly.

Aziraphale makes a sound of amusement, a little breath against Crowley’s skin. “Just say it.”

“What?”

“I know what you want. Ask.”

Crowley shudders at the stern tone and Aziraphale hides a smile against the back of his own hand.

“Marathon sex.”

Human AU, Crowley and Aziraphale try new things in their relationship That's it, that's the fic; can be read as a standalone

A relevant note: Crowley's Chinese zodiac sign in the main fic is a Snake 🐍 and Aziraphale's is a Dragon 🐉

Aziraphale feels so good – each cell of his body seemingly swelled with contentment and love – that he laughs softly at the all in all cruel joke. Not that he believes Crowley meant to hurt with those two words.

Attempting to return the frantic kisses, but too slow (or is it Crowley who always goes too fast for him?) Aziraphale tries to ignore the feelings catching in his throat and to cut them at their stems before they grow into something impossible to deny.

“Marry me, angel.”

Belatedly, he feels the smile disappear from his face, not quite in control of his expression, as he searches Crowley’s eyes, focused intently on his own.

They speak of something mischievous, yes, but only on the surface, pretending to be playful, but deeper still, there are things too soft and fragile, telling him how serious Crowley is – and how can soft and fragile things cut so viciously?

“Ask me again once we’re thinking clearly,” says Aziraphale as lightly as possible, instead of what he wants to say, burying the ‘Yes’ deep in his heart and cupping Crowley’s face in his hands.

“I’m thinking clearly,” Crowley insists. “Never thought clearer in my life.”

Something twists painfully in Aziraphale’s chest. He cannot let Crowley promise what he might regret in the future. The higher they fly, the more disastrous the fall. But, if they pretend not to be connected by the invisible line that Aziraphale felt the moment they met for the first time, then perhaps nothing and no-one can break it.

“Well, I’m not.”

The disappointment and hurt in Crowley’s eyes is almost unbearable, but he makes himself withstand the wounded stare.

“Okay,” says Crowley, looking away, getting back to his guarded self.

Breathing slowly out in relief, Aziraphale cuddles up to him, face pressed against his chest, dark red hairs tickling his cheek.

He closes his eyes, physically exhausted by the intense orgasm and emotionally torn to shreds by everything he doesn’t know how to deal with. How is it that Crowley goes on and on about the complexity of the world, yet, somehow, he operates in it as if everything were simple? Why does it feel like Aziraphale is walking in circles, one moment thinking he’s found his answers only to be thrown back to square one to start anew in the next?

“I hope the plug was unreasonably expensive and you paid with your card, so that your parents could see that,” Crowley mutters, causing Aziraphale to giggle hysterically.

“It was obscenely expensive and if they’re still checking what I’m buying, it’s entirely their own fault,” he admits.

“I’m so glad I signed up for the philosophy course.”

“Me too. Though, actually, we had no choice, it’s mandatory for our programme.”

“I know we were meant to go on more dates, but could we spend the whole weekend here?” Crowley asks nonchalantly.

Aziraphale makes a sound of amusement, a little breath against Crowley’s skin. “Just say it.”

“What?”

“I know what you want. Ask.”

Crowley shudders at the stern tone and Aziraphale hides a smile against the back of his own hand.

“Marathon sex.”

“There. Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Shut up.”

“About that,” Aziraphale says, wriggling in sudden excitement and nervousness. “There’s something I’d like you to... do to me.”

It’s Crowley’s turn to tease. “Oohh, I bet there is.”

“Nothing too complicated, really,” Aziraphale rushes to explain. “But of course―”

“Angel, if you don’t tell me what you mean, how can I tell you whether I want it?” Crowley huffs in irritation, stroking his hand down Aziraphale’s side.

Heat crawling up his neck and cheeks, Aziraphale presses his hand against his eyes in embarrassment.

“What you did today, except... my throat, and, slower,” he manages, not that fluent in dirty talk when he isn’t on edge or already aroused.

He can tell Crowley’s grinning when he asks, “Want me to shut you up with my cock? Love it.”

Aziraphale chuckles, still nervous despite Crowley’s explicit approval. “I like it rough,” he adds.

“’Course you do,” is Crowley’s reply and suddenly the warmth of his body disappears.

“Where are you going?” Aziraphale blurts out, hating the obvious clinginess behind his reaction.

“To wash my dick before I put it in your mouth!” Crowley calls back, the crude phrasing and nonchalance in his tone causing Aziraphale’s cheeks to burn.

Oh.

Aziraphale didn’t expect Crowley to immediately implement his plan as if he were only waiting for a request of any kind. Not that he’s going to complain.

By the time Crowley comes back, Aziraphale is sitting on his heels next to the bed and shivering slightly from anticipation and the cool air caressing his naked skin.

“Wow,” says Crowley as soon as his eyes land on him. “The only thing missing is a collar around your neck.”

There is a lilt to this statement, a hidden question.

Would Aziraphale allow Crowley to put a collar on him?

“I’ll be sure to add it to my next shopping list,” he assures with a smile, watching the Adam’s apple in Crowley’s throat bob as he swallows, hard.

“Can’t wait,” Crowley breathes, stepping close, lazily stroking a hand over his erection.

Aziraphale licks his lips, leaning in to take the cock into his mouth, but Crowley doesn’t let him, cupping his palm over the flared head.

Shooting him an offended look, Aziraphale can’t keep the pout off his face.

“You’ll only take what I give you, and nothing more, you greedy cherub,” says Crowley with a mean grin.

The fiend.

Huffing through his nose, Aziraphale presses his lips together. If Crowley thinks he’s going to beg for it, then he’s got another thing coming.

A temptingly hot cockhead brushes against Aziraphale’s lips. “Open up.”

He makes sure Crowley can see him glaring defiantly. A bead of clear precome oozes from the slit, glinting tantalisingly, and Aziraphale curls his hands into fists, where they rest against his thighs. A trickle of Crowley’s seed leaks out of him in that moment and he gasps at the unfamiliar but somehow deeply arousing feeling.

The lapse in his concentration doesn’t escape Crowley’s notice. “You okay there?” he asks, his concern evident and so very sweet.

There goes all of Aziraphale’s resolve. Nodding once, he opens his mouth expectantly, pushing his tongue out just enough so that the tip is visible over his lower lip. With a sigh, Crowley presses his cockhead against the flat of Aziraphale’s tongue, rubbing gently against it with slow, shallow thrusts.

Mouth watering, Aziraphale swallows quickly. He probably should have warned it might get really messy, bordering on disgusting, at least for some people. He’s in no position to talk, now, though. He wishes Crowley would start fucking his throat already. He’d like to close his lips around him. He’d love to suck his cock.

Instead, he allows Crowley to tease him mercilessly, more precome spreading over his tongue as he waits patiently, breathing faster every time Crowley dives deeper into his mouth only to draw back again.

He moans softly when the warm cockhead hits his soft palate. Crowley groans in response, hand curling in Aziraphale’s hair, eliciting an appreciative whine, the vibrations hopefully pleasant.

“You really want me to be rough?” Crowley asks, the uncertainty and concern in his voice endearing to Aziraphale’s ears.

In response, Aziraphale grasps his hips firmly and groans around the cock in his mouth.

It seems to be enough seeing as Crowley slams into his throat without any further warnings. Tears of pain prick at the corners of Aziraphale’s eyes and he moans again, making sure to wrap his lips around his teeth – a somewhat tricky thing he never needed to learn (but he did, anyway; he doesn’t like doing things by halves).

Crowley’s so good to him – as slow and brutal as Aziraphale dreamed. His throat burns. He can’t stop moaning and squirming. His cock aches, but he keeps his hands around Crowley’s hips, digging his nails in whenever he needs to breathe. His chin is wet with spit and he revels in the undignified feeling.

He comes untouched, spilling messily over his belly and thighs, moaning loudly, tears running down his hot cheeks.

“Fuck, angel,” Crowley whines above him. “Can I come on your face?”

Normally, Aziraphale believes refractory periods to be nature’s unnecessary joke, the kind that nobody gets, but in this moment he’s grateful he physically can’t get hard again, because he’s sure he would come immediately, either at Crowley’s question or the moment his hot seed paints his cheek and nose and lips – and another orgasm like this would probably kill him.

Staring up at Crowley, Aziraphale distractedly wipes at his own wet chin with the back of his hand.

“A moment,” says Crowley, sitting at the edge of his bed, breathing hard. “I’ll bring some water― Just.”

Aziraphale understands what he means. He feels uncomfortably sticky with – he counts quickly – four...? – loads of come and just as uncomfortably slippery with lubricant, and he’d love to take a hot shower and yes, a glass of water does sound nice, but most of all he wants to cuddle with Crowley and fall asleep together in bed that’s been getting progressively filthier as well.

However, he is not that spoiled and Crowley has been so good to him, so he volunteers to bring the water and wanders to the kitchen, lightheaded from the oxygen deprivation and dazed from everything else.

He finds the glasses (and a paper towel to wipe his face relatively clean) and takes two bottles of water from the fridge. There is something domestic about it that he doesn’t want to dwell on, but his mind latches onto the feeling. So many day-to-day things they could do...

Crowley drinks his water straight from the bottle and Aziraphale smiles privately because he expected that.

“You should see yourself,” says Crowley, eyes raking over his entire body hungrily as Aziraphale takes his water in small sips, his abused throat hurting with every swallow. “You look like sin.”

“And all you want to do is sin?” Aziraphale prompts, laughing at his own terrible joke.

“That’s about right!” Crowley agrees, laughing with him even as he rolls his eyes.

“Well, I am in desperate need of a shower, I suppose, but...” Aziraphale sighs, shaking his head, tired.

“...meh,” Crowley finishes his thought. “I’m thinking: some sleep and then shower, but we do something worth getting out of bed there.”

When Aziraphale gets all wrapped in Crowley’s long limbs, he thinks – not for the first time – that there really is something snake-like about him and that he’s going to need some serious motivation to leave the bed, which is new to him, seeing that he’s not a fan of sleep. Crowley is, though, and the way he cuddles against Aziraphale to absorb his warmth and drifts off easily is a surprisingly soothing experience.

As it turns out, not even two hours later, all the motivation Aziraphale needs to leave the bed and shower is the prospect of a hot shower itself. Crowley joins him, complaining the entire way, until the steaming water hits his skin and the grumbling noises switch into ones indicating deep appreciation. In the meantime, Aziraphale re-appreciates Crowley’s body with his hands and mouth.

He insists they decide on sort of safe words to use when either needs to stop completely or just a little break for whatever reasons (because Crowley’s concerned check-ins are too sweet and too disarming, but he doesn’t tell him that) and Crowley chooses Plato and orange respectively, explaining that ‘Berkeley is too long’ when Aziraphale raises his eyebrow at him.

“Now that we’re properly cleaned,” Crowley begins, shivering with cold as he throws an oversized, black band T-shirt at Aziraphale and pulls a similar piece of clothing over his own head, “I want you to top me.”

Torn between amusement at the phrasing and the thrill of wearing something that belongs to Crowley, no matter how distant it is from his usual style, Aziraphale touches one of the sleeves affectionately with a smile and a short, “Alright, yes.”

Gosh, he hopes that didn’t sound too eager.

“Listen, I―” Crowley breaks off. “Wait, I expected I’d have to do more convincing.”

“Oh, do you want me to say no, so that you can ‘convince’ me?” Aziraphale offers, only half-jokingly.

“No, I don’t want any more coddling.”

“Good.”

“Yeah, it’s― what?! Okay!”

Still, Aziraphale sits on the bed with his back against the wall and insists that Crowley straddle him, at least for his first time, so that he can control the depth and tempo, discover what he likes best without interference from Aziraphale’s personal preferences.

“You just want me to do all the work,” Crowley accuses, gesturing around with the bottle of lubricant, but he settles in Aziraphale’s lap with a feverish look on his face – beautiful eyes glassy, cheeks flushed delicious red.

“Oh, no, you have discovered my diabolical plan,” Aziraphale mocks, good-natured, trying to convince his mind that the fact he’s the first one to do all those things with Crowley is not that arousing. His mind is of a different opinion, however.

Crowley hands him the purple bottle. “More like, the depths of your laziness,” he growls, sounding angry, but Aziraphale can tell he’s being hissy as a principle. “At least prepare me,” he demands.

“With pleasure,” says Aziraphale, already warming the viscous fluid with his fingers.

A soft sound falls from Crowley’s lips before he tilts Aziraphale’s head up and bows down to kiss him hungrily.

With his clean hand splayed over Crowley’s chest – he thinks he might be a little obsessed with the feeling of Crowley’s heartbeat against his skin – he reaches around the lithe body in his lap, slick fingers exploring unhurriedly between the firm cheeks.

When his fingertip catches against the tight little hole, Crowley breaks the kiss with a groan and curses, thighs tensing. He doesn’t use any of the words they agreed on, so Aziraphale presses gently against the furled tissue, licking his lips as Crowley lowers his hips greedily, attempting to take in Aziraphale’s finger, but failing due to Aziraphale withdrawing his hand just enough.

“Angel,” Crowley complains, giving him a look so betrayed it would look comical, if his eagerness weren’t so arousing.

Aziraphale gives in and feels the inviting warmth of Crowley’s body around the tip of his finger, his thoughts circling insistently around the fact that no-one has ever touched Crowley so intimately, and oh, Aziraphale can’t wait to bury himself to the hilt inside this heat― don’t dragons like virgins?

“Hhnngghh,” says Crowley and Aziraphale cannot help but agree as he presses in, slowly, but without a pause, until his whole finger disappears inside. He curls it, searching, until Crowley makes a prolonged sound, something between a sigh and a moan, a string of clear fluid oozing out of his cock at the new stimulation, leaving dark stains on his T-shirt.

It would seem they forgot to take these off.

Aziraphale stares at the precome that keeps leaking from the slit wishing he could lick Crowley’s cock clean and keep licking it until Crowley’s utterly spent. Perhaps another time.

Leaving the gland alone for now, Aziraphale moves his finger in a more thrusting manner until Crowley gasps, hips twitching for a while in little, abortive jerks, and then he’s suddenly fucking himself on Aziraphale’s finger, groaning, curling his hands around Aziraphale’s shoulders.

“Well? Do you feel prepared?” Aziraphale prompts gently.

“Ah!” Crowley looks down between them, eyeing Aziraphale’s cock doubtfully. “Are you sure about stretching with three fingers being a myth?” he asks cautiously.

Huffing a breathless laugh, Aziraphale kisses him, lips soft and tender, holding his head still by the jaw delicately, as he withdraws his finger and immediately comes back with two, swallowing Crowley’s groan.

Not giving him much time to process what’s going on, he adds the third finger to prove his point, feeling Crowley’s entire body tense and then immediately melt against him.

“How about now?” he asks, letting their lips part.

“Fuck,” says Crowley, panting and squirming. There’s a drop of sweat running down the side of his throat and Aziraphale leans up to catch it with his lips. “Someone’s eager,” Crowley adds, his voice a little too weak for the full teasing effect.

“You have no idea,” Aziraphale admits, looking into his eyes.

“Ngk.” Crowley avoids his gaze as if it burns him. “You really are a slut,” he mutters, taking hold of Aziraphale’s cock and sliding off of his fingers.

The words sting for the briefest moment, but Aziraphale remembers that Crowley tends to say all kinds of things when he’s overwhelmed, so maybe he doesn’t really mean it.

“I’m your slut,” he replies with a playful smile to see if he manages to lighten the mood.

It has the opposite effect, it would seem, as Crowley’s eyes shoot back to his face to stare at him, his lips slightly parted.

“I think your true diabolical plan is to kill me.”

“We shall find out by Monday.”

At this, Crowley grins at him, and then his features sharpen in concentration as he raises on his knees, apparently ready for the next part.

“Crowley, dear, wait,” says Aziraphale, alarmed, searching for the bottle of lubricant with one hand and holding Crowley gently by the hip with the other.

“Yes, I know,” Crowley hisses impatiently, pretending he didn’t forget about slicking Aziraphale’s cock.

Definitely not in a mood to argue about who knows what, Aziraphale completes this task himself without a comment. Crowley doesn’t talk either as he finally sinks down onto Aziraphale’s cock, torturously slow and with maddening breaks, really, who’s trying to kill whom, again?

People often assume that Aziraphale has poor self-control, probably something to do with his admittedly hedonistic lifestyle. Generally speaking, he agrees. But he thinks he’s perfectly capable of reining himself in, perhaps with two exceptions – being pushed to his very limits and choosing to surrender his control if he feels safe doing so (he already did that with Crowley).

Focusing on his breathing and watching Crowley’s face for any signs of discomfort, he keeps as still as possible and allows him to move, and what moves they are―

Breathing deeply, admiring the view, staving off his orgasm, teasing Crowley’s nipples and cock – all within his capability.

“Fuck me,” Crowley groans, throwing his head back.

Aziraphale’s eyes wander along the lines of his white, exposed throat. He isn’t entirely sure if Crowley’s words were a request or just a figure of speech, but he decides there’s no harm in trying to find out, so he rocks up into Crowley with measured thrusts, unerringly hitting the prostate once they discover the perfect angle together, and is endlessly happy to hear Crowley – right above his head – spilling absolute filth with his tongue, and then swearing and calling out until he’s finally reduced to broken cries and whimpers.

Aziraphale feels him come, the muscles pulsing around his cock giving away Crowley’s uncharacteristically silent orgasm. He groans, fucking him through it gently, but eventually he has to help Crowley pull off, knowing that further stimulation would be unpleasant to him.

Crowley is boneless and sluggish in his arms and looks at him with such dazed, sex-stupid eyes that Aziraphale can’t help grinning just a tad smugly.

“Shut up,” Crowley mumbles as soon as he’s able to do more than panting.

Aziraphale obediently doesn’t talk, instead leaning up to kiss and lick at Crowley’s neck.

“Next time, I don’t want you to hold back,” says Crowley, touching Aziraphale’s face with a hand covered in streaks of semen.

“You really enjoy ‘marking’ me,” Aziraphale observes, sending him a knowing smile, still somewhat smug.

Crowley blinks at him until he seems to notice what he’s doing, and he bites his lip, as if caught. “Yes,” he admits, following that with a choked sound and resting his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder, his other hand reaching between them to caress Aziraphale’s cock with slow strokes.

Moaning softly, Aziraphale presses his face into Crowley’s hair, still wet from the shower, eyes closed.

“What’s in your basket?” Crowley asks and there is an edge to his voice, like he’s suddenly suspicious.

Aziraphale concentrates on the meaning behind words with difficulty. “Wine. Some cheese. Spare clothes, though it looks like I’m not going to need them.”

“Right.” Crowley grins, pointing at his own T-shirt, which belongs in the washing machine, and offers his come-stained fingers for Aziraphale to lick clean, which he sets to with a pleased sigh. “I think we could just spend those two days in the shower, really. Would save us time.”

Aziraphale makes an amused sound at the idea but is also delighted by the thought they still have almost two days of this. His throat throbs painfully, reminding him how exquisitely Crowley fucked it.

Mere minutes later he climaxes, moaning around the long fingers in his mouth.

[mrscakeishere]

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Beta Reviews!

"I can't stop laughing!" "Hot hot hot!!!" "That poor electrical socket looks positively scandalized!"

Polycakes (Me and Polychrome, aka @polychromicron-persei-8) hurled another fanfic grenade into the @goodomensafterdark Smut War with Sensors and Sensibility (rated Explicit, CW: semi-public sex, anal sex). Read on for summary and excerpt!

Sensors and Sensibility

Despite Crowley shooting a little too fast and furious, he and Aziraphale have had a steamy first year.

Soho, on the other hand, is miserable.

Turns out, paranormal coitus has the uncanny ability to interfere with the Internet of Things, playing havoc with smart things throughout the neighbourhood.

In an attempt to solve the “celestial sex problem,” Nina floats the idea of a romantic dinner somewhere far away, selling it as the ideal remedy to boost Crowley’s mojo.

The question is, will some delayed gratification improve their sex lives—and can they keep it in their pants long enough to find out?

Excerpt:

For creatures who had been alive since the beginning of time, Aziraphale and Crowley were embarrassingly inexperienced when it came to sex. Sure, they had seen it—you couldn’t go anywhere during those first seven days on Earth without witnessing Adam and Eve sticking something in one hole or another—but neither angel nor demon had ever partaken in such activities until after the Second Coming.1 As well-established virgins,2 everything was exciting and new; every intimate moment was the best sex that they had ever had.3

Of course, to the well-trained eye, much of what Aziraphale and Crowley engaged in was relatively vanilla, consisting of mundane positions, erratic pacing, flailing limbs, and a higher than usual—but not completely unhealthy—frequency of premature ejaculation.

Regardless of partaking in the sort of lovemaking that would disappoint a beginner voyeur, Aziraphale and Crowley felt satiated. In fact, they were so wrapped up in the thrill of their newfound sex lives and their steamy honeymoon period that they had spent an entire year engaging in sex and very little else.

This had not gone unnoticed by the neighbours.

This was not entirely true. Aziraphale actually had one experience getting his willy sucked while attending Portland Place. He had never had the heart to tell Crowley though, who had taken great pride in believing that he had been Aziraphale’s first time.

Well, Crowley was a virgin.

Even though it was, for the most part, the only sex they had ever had.

Continue reading on Ao3 for Crowley and Aziraphale's coffee needs, romantic dinner date, and the impact of their sexual congress on smart and automated things.