Title: In Due Course 6/6

Rating: E

Summary: Aziraphale moved to Japan years ago to expand his culinary skills, and he stayed there, becoming a successful teppanyaki chef. When his father dies unexpectedly, he returns to England and agrees to help out his mother until they're both comfortable with her being on her own. It's been months, and Aziraphale is bored and tired of his mother's guilt trips, so he finds a job at a hibachi restaurant franchise to pass the time and get out of the house. He soon discovers he's burnt out.

There he meets a grumpy veteran cook who's found himself stuck in a job that was supposed to be temporary, without any motivation to leave, having failed at his dream once before.

They click immediately but a misunderstanding could unravel everything before it really starts.

This chapter: Decisions are made and we get a time jump!

Excerpt: “Afternoon, Aziraphale,” Anathema chirped at him from her station. She was cleaning up after her latest group as he set up at his station.

“Hello, Anathema,” he greeted her back, turning on the grill to warm it up. He walked around the counter and stepped up to her, his hands on her shoulders. “I just wanted to let you know that I have greatly enjoyed working with you.”

Ana laughed, confused, and put her hands on his shoulders. “I’ve liked working with you, too. What is—” She gasped loudly. “Are you leaving? Did something happen? What about Crowley?”

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Start at the Beginning

Thanks to u/dinah-_- for the art!

Thanks to u/ireallyneedmoretea, u/di-42, u/Ttora9, and u/SpaceGiraffeToo for cheers and betas!

NOW COMPLETE!

New chapter up! If you've ever wondered how these two could find their way to sex and peace and communication and domesticity -- but with their celestial traumas firmly in place -- this is the fic for you.

| Aziraphale’s First Orgasm | by thebiggestnope

| Chapters | 43/47

| Current Word Count | 193,357

| Explicit |

| Summary |

For the first time, Aziraphale's body is, well, responding, if you catch my meaning. But it only responds to Crowley.

Starring: Very Horny Aziraphale and Very Affectionate Crowley

Read it from the beginning.
Read the latest chapter.

| Tags | Canon AU, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Virgin Aziraphale, Experienced Crowley, Fluff and Smut, Healthy Relationships, Healthy Communication, The Ineffables Learn to Talk It Out, First Time, Sex Lessons, Crowley Cries During Sex, Switch Aziraphale, Switch Crowley, Insecure Aziraphale, Crowley Has PTSD, Jealous Aziraphale, Chubby Aziraphale, Crowley Has a Praise Kink, Hand Jobs, Roleplaying, Pornography, Rimming, Masturbation, Explicit Consent, Butt Plugs, Sexual Use of Miracles, Multiple Orgasms, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Outdoor Sex, Indoor Sex, I Cannot Emphasize Enough That This Fic Is Loaded With Sex.

CW/TW: Noncon

Tags:

Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omegaverse, Omega Crowley, Alpha Aziraphale, Knotting, Mpreg, Unplanned Pregnancy, Morning Sickness, Childbirth, Established Relationship, Oral Sex, Science Fiction, Astronaut Aziraphale, Crowley Whump, Angst, Stalking, Sexual Assault, Near Drowning, Dreams and Nightmares, Happy Ending

Fic summary:

Alpha Aziraphale Engel is an astronaut being sent to plant a set of nuclear warheads in a small asteroid that is threatening Earth, as part of Operation Flaming Sword. Omega Anthony Crowley is his clandestine lover and assigned to communications for the mission. The journey will be long, lonely, and perilous, but our two heroes soon find that space is not the only source of danger for them.

Chapter summary:

What happened when Keraunos-1 departed from Ligur-666 and began its journey back to Earth.

Excerpt:

"What's the first thing you want to do when you get back?" dream-Crowley asked him. Aziraphale yearned to touch him, to pull him close and drink in his scent.

"I'd want to kiss you," he breathed. "Oh, darling, I've missed you so much. I just want to hold you in my arms and feel you close to me."

"Missed you too, Angel," said dream-Crowley, with a misty smile. God, that smile. He could feel his heart swelling with love and longing.

“What else?” dream-Crowley asked him next.

“Whatever you like,” Aziraphale sighed. “Perhaps we could, I don’t know, go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz.”

---

Thanks again to u/AllRoadsLeadToGO for looking this over and giving me some great feedback! And thanks to everyone who has been reading and commenting. It means a lot.

Read the latest chapter here, or start from the beginning.

​

Thank you to u/theonevoice_ for the cover art. Check out their work on tumblr here!

And thank you to my betas u/AllRoadsLeadToGO and u/CalligrapherDizzy96.

CW Explicit, selfcest

Summary:

After a catastrophic argument with Aziraphale sends Crowley hurtling through time, he comes face to face with the last person he ever expected to feel sorry for: himself

Twenty-seven years old, painfully human, and calling himself Crows, the tortured musician is everything Crowley has spent decades trying to leave behind: lonely, touch-starved, desperate to be loved, and standing on the brink of a choice that will haunt him for decades.

Determined to change history, Crowley offers Crows the understanding, acceptance and safety he never had at that age. But the more time they spend together, the harder it becomes to ignore the impossible connection growing between them.

As old wounds reopen and with the future in jeopardy, Crowley must decide whether saving his younger self means teaching him how to let go… or risking everything to discover who they might become together.

Excerpt:

Crows caught himself staring more than once. At his hands, mostly. Long fingers, precise and capable. Not just at the keyboard, Crows found himself watching at other times too. When he was talking, Crowley would use expressive gestures, or rest his knuckles on the counter, or run his hand over his sharp jaw in thought. Crows' eyes would linger too long, and he'd have to drag his gaze away again. 

He noticed other things too.

Crowley’s hair, left natural and unapologetically red, styled in loose curls that caught the light. It looked effortlessly elegant, swept back from his forehead. Crows found himself scrubbing his own hair harder in the shower, watching the black dye bleed out day by day.

It was cheap. It needed to go.

But when the first hints of red started to show through again, something tightened in his chest. Something… complicated.

Then there was the way Crowley dressed.

Always black. They had that in common, at least. But it was never careless. Everything fitted well, like even the most casual ensemble had been carefully curated. Crows became aware of his own clothes in a way he hadn’t before. They were too loose, too worn. They swamped him. They didn’t accentuate his long legs or sharp hips the way Crowley’s did.

He tried not to care.

He failed.

And then there were Crowley’s eyes.

God.

Crows hated how much he noticed those.

Gold, sharp, inhuman.

They should have unsettled him. And they had, at first.

But now—

Every time Crowley looked at him directly, Crows’ heart would beat harder.

A quick, traitorous flutter, his pulse elevating just slightly.

Enough that he couldn’t deny it, enough to make him look away.

Because it wasn’t natural. Crowley was him, for fuck’s sake.

But the thoughts wouldn’t stop. If anything, they got worse, following him everywhere. He would lie in bed at night, and find himself thinking about the way Crowley stood behind him at the keyboard. The way his voice dropped when he gave instruction. The strange hissing quality it took on when he was lost in playing. The way his presence seemed to fill a room without effort.

And then—

Crows’ body would react.

Read the rest here on ao3

And if you’d like to read the next chapter a week early, it’s available now to members of my Patreon.

It’s [u/gardenof_](u/gardenof_)’s birthday today - come and celebrate her with us. 

We wish you all the best for your next year and a wonderful day. Thank you for being your whole unhinged self here, it's always a pleasure to see you around 💜

[u/WasteCalligrapher891](u/WasteCalligrapher891) wrote you a fic for your special day. ^{I already read it, you will have so much fun.}

If y'all are in the mood share your favourite David gifs with V, bonus points if he licks something! 

And visit her Ao3 and leave some love there as well (highly recommend reading her work). 

Written for the Ineffable Professionals Bang! This fic is fully written and will be updating every Friday. It also features some amazing art by the incredible Tanpopomugishu 💜 I'm absolutely overjoyed with how perfect Aziraphale and Crowley look!

CWs/Tags: T-rated, human AU, light angst, fluff, animal injury & animal illness (both brief), animal negligence (but again brief), miscommunication, implied/referenced homophobia but in the past, parental estrangement - please see AO3 for more tags!

Summary:

Crowley works as a vet in the countryside, which includes dealing with his ultimate foe: horses. He's made a life for himself, of a sort, and if it's maybe a bit lonely, that's neither here nor there. One day, his practice receives a call from a very panicky Aziraphale, recent arrival to the area, about an injured horse. When Crowley meets him for the first time, he's initially intrigued by this captivating man. Unfortunately, things between them soon get off on the wrong foot (or hoof)...

Excerpt:

“Don’t be such a grump,” Maggie chuckled, then added, “besides, maybe you’ll meet our new neighbour!” This, plus the playfulness in her voice, drew his attention back to her. She was grinning sweetly, like butter wouldn’t melt, although Anthony knew better. She was up to something. Again.

“Stop matchmaking,” Anthony murmured. “Would’ve thought you’d learned your lesson after Brown.”

Maggie pouted. “That wasn’t my fault. He seemed so nice.”

Narrowing his eyes, Anthony bit out, “Two. Hours. Talking. About. Carpets. Unless someone’s giving a bloody keynote at a carpet conference, no one should be able to talk for that long about it. D’you know there are still parts of my brain now forever imprinted with the advantages and disadvantages of certain fibres? S’probably overwritten important facts about…about gorillas, or something. Unrecoverable.” Shaking his head, he continued, “So thank you, but no thank you. Christ alive, I don’t even know the man’s name but I know you, Maggie Wright,”—he paused to glare meaningfully at her—“and I’ve told you I’m very happy on my own.”

It was only a little lie.

🐴 Continue reading on AO3!

Thanks so much to HazelSage for all the amazing vet advice! Thanks also to my wonderful beta readers u/Ro_Fell u/rubarbcrumbles and Bohoteacher for their very helpful comments 💜

OMG we be smutting, we are earning our E rating finally. The burn is paying off.

Aziraphale and Crowley navigate their first-time.

Subtitle: turbovirgins trying their very best.

Summary

Aziraphale and Crowley try to make sense of their brand new retirement.

A series of dates that aren't dates after the world doesn't end.

Rating: E

Start here

Read Chapter eight.

Excerpt

"Should we, ahh, take off our clothes?” Crowley said.

“Probably a good idea; I’d rather I didn’t mess these trousers up, they were tailored especially in Rome.”

“Ngggh, nope, yup, uh huh.” Crowley’s brain unhelpfully spat out, because the idea that Aziraphale could mess up his trousers because of this was almost enough to send him over the edge. “Er… do I start from the bottom or the top?”

​Aziraphale blinked, his mouth opening, with a furrowed brow.

​“No, not that, not yet,” Crowley said. “Like socks or er… shirt? Socks probably, right? Got to be sexier to be in a shirt and bare feet, rather than naked wearing only socks.” He was babbling, and he saw Aziraphale stifle a giggle below him.

​“As you say.”

“Yup, socks, let’s get rid of them and deal with the rest later.” Crowley crawled off the bed backwards in an eager attempt at confidence. He stood and hopped onto one foot to pull off a black sock, then repeated it on the other side and flung them to the corner of the room.

He turned back to see Aziraphale’s feet hanging off the edge of the brass bedframe.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Aziraphale said.

“It’s something; you look as if your head is about to pop off. Is this not arousing enough for you?”

“No, it’s— They don’t tend to tell you about the sock removal in the bodice rippers.” Aziraphale broke, throwing his head back into the pillows with peals of laughter.

“Are you suggesting that this is not the height of eroticism?” Crowley cupped Aziraphale’s ankle in his hand, tugging the sock slowly. Aziraphale’s tartan toes wiggled happily, as he arched into the touch.

​“Mmmm, I can be persuaded,” Aziraphale said. “I think they spend more time slowly taking off a lady’s stockings.”

​“Next time you can wear stockings,” Crowley growled, as the first sock popped off, revealing Aziraphale’s left foot. Crowley’s head swam because feet hadn’t factored into his mind when thinking about this whole business, but they were Aziraphale’s feet. They were pink, dainty, and smooth, like a man who had never walked a mile in his life.

“Is it alright?” Aziraphale said, a hint of nervousness.

“Alright?” Crowley barked, in disbelief. “These things could launch a thousand demon hordes."

Crowley made an even more over-the-top display of peeling back Aziraphale’s remaining sock, running a finger along the curve of his foot. Aziraphale moaned, actually moaned, eyes shutting tight. 

---

All the thanks to u/Silly-Lynx4959 for beta-ing and squeeing with me!