remymarin



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    Aziraphale thinks they've been married for three years and that Crowley just doesn't like sex. Crowley is losing his mind. (Companion to The Norwegian Civil War.)

    Language:
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    29 Jul 2019

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    It had never been Aziraphale's intention to found a sort of secret society of angry angels. Certainly he'd never imagined he might run a halfway house on Earth for them.

    Language:
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    29 Jul 2019

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    So it was fine. Even if Crowley couldn’t love him, he clearly liked him well enough, and that was almost the same thing.

    It no doubt would have continued to be fine, or at least fine-adjacent, were it not for a narrowly averted apocalypse and several bottles of a really quite nice Riesling Aziraphale had found in the back room of his newly restored bookshop.

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    21 Jul 2019

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    “A new kind of worship...ours, ours, ours alone. Because, Crowley...I believe in us. Because of you. More than anything in the universe, I believe in us.”

    Aziraphale had been thinking of the sex they’d been having as a profoundly human thing, one of the many earthly delights they indulged in together. He had never really wanted to approach the irrefutable fact that they were an angel and a demon, joined by choice and desire. Until one evening, Crowley climbs into his lap, brushes his lips against his ear, and whispers: “Would you make love to me?”

    praise!kink, blending profane and holy, top!Aziraphale worshipping his demon. sex and intimacy and so much love.

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    20 Jul 2019

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Courfeyrac can see hints of ink peeking out from the man’s shirt collar, and that isn’t helpful at all. The fuck fuck fuck looping in his head intensifies.

    “Flowers!” he exclaims, acutely aware of how manic he sounds, and wishing that the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He’s never been this bad at social interaction, not even with people he finds attractive. He’s an amazing flirt, a natural flirt, this doesn’t happen to him. “I need flowers,” he says, calmer.

    Language:
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    04 May 2014