#WHAT'S HE SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT REVELATION esp when he's got to bury it so deep so that he doesnt just fuckin lose alphinaud

[fooltofancy]

Gotta ask about best boy Haurchefant and Ilya

IF WISHES WERE FISHES HONESTLY

anyway, most insufferable bros who also fuck energy, u know, the kind that makes everybody pick up their food and eat somewhere else lmao.

[patricianandclerk]

Tbh I’m all in for anything you’ve got for a/c in the realm of food, feeding, body worship (esp bellies and thighs and soft arms and soft everything) like, really anything you’re inspired in that area I’m gonna be here for. Outgrown clothes or clothes made stupid tight due to extravagant/excessive dining might be a fun area to explore with them that I don’t think I’ve seen yet!

My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Requests always welcome!

anon thank u and god bless u this concept fucking... watered all my crops and brought me To Life I Loved It

“Oh,” Crowley heard Aziraphale say from thenext room.

“What?” Crowley asked, looking up from the Abbot& Costello record in his hands. They had chosen to have a clear out. Thatis to say, Crowley had chosen to havea clear out, and had promised Aziraphale a two-week holiday to Japan, sixmonths ago, and Aziraphale had finally started joining in looking at things heshould perhaps get rid of.

“It— Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said miserably, and Crowley set the recorddown, standing to his feet.

He stepped into the bedroom, and he lookedat Aziraphale. He was dressed in his pyjama trousers still, an extremely softand worn pair of flannel pyjamas Crowley had bought him for Christmas in 1922, andwearing a shirt he distantly remembered, but hadn’t seen in at least a decadeor two. It was lilac silk, with a very wide collar – something from theseventies, Crowley supposed, as he stepped forward…

He came to Aziraphale’s shoulder, andlooked over it, at the angel’s reflection in the mirror. Immediately, heexhaled, and pressed his body right up against the angel’s as he felt his kneesgive a sudden quake.

---

Unlike Crowley, struck with sudden arousal,Aziraphale was disappointed. He likedthis shirt. He remembered buying it, in a market stall in New York City back in’69, and he’d had so many compliments on it, even from Crowley… Now, it didn’treally fit. He had put on weight, recently, a little more weight even thanbefore – he and Crowley had been eating much more regularly, since coming outto the cottage, and Crowley cooked sooften, and Aziraphale did…

He did liketo eat.

This was an old shirt, of course, and he’dbeen a little more trim back then, but he hadn’t given it much thought, hadmerely…

He was all but bursting from it: the silk was drawn tight over the twin swells ofhis chest, over the curve of his belly, and it was riding up, revealing theoutward curve of his belly over the band of his trousers, the fabric drawntaut.

“Bless,angel, are you trying to kill me?” Crowley demanded, and he rolled his hipsagainst Aziraphale’s arse, grabbing at his belly from each side and dragginghis fingers over the silk, his pointed chin digging into the meat of Aziraphale’sshoulder. “You look delicious.”

“Oh, Crowley,”Aziraphale said sternly, although almost without meaning to, he blushed, redblood eking into his cheeks and staining the skin, the flush blooming on eachside. “I look ridiculous, like meat stuffed into sausage casing—”

“You look hot,” Crowley insisted, and his yellow gaze, hungry and eager, metAziraphale’s in the mirror. His fingers came up to Aziraphale’s chest, grabbingat each side and playing with what he was far too polite to refer to as Aziraphale’sbreasts, his thumbs flicking over the nipples through the silk, and Aziraphale exhaled,his eyes fluttering closed. “I’ve wanted you in tighter clothes for ages, butthis, this is really tight…”

Crowley’s skin was burning, and he seemed soaroused, like  he couldn’t help butfidget as he shoved himself up against Aziraphale’s back, trying to touch himall over, kissing his shoulder, grabbing at his hips, his waist, his love handles,his stomach.

“This was a favourite of mine,” Aziraphalesaid, trying his best to inject a little misery into it, but it was rather hard,with the demon all but grinding their bodies together.

“Well, it’s my favourite now,” Crowley said, and he stepped around Aziraphale’sbody, dropping to his knees and—

“Oh!” Aziraphale cried out, but Crowleydidn’t even look up: he grabbed Aziraphale’s belly on each side and buried hisface in the front of it, mouthing over the buttons and letting his tongueflicker out to the bit where the gaps between them were baring the flesh beneath,the fabric barely held together, and Aziraphale heaved in a gasp. “Oh, my dear,that’s positively indecent, you really mustn’t—”

Crowley made a slurping sound as he sucked at a patch of skin, messy and wetand eager, and Aziraphale let out a whimper.

“Oh, Crowley, this was one of my favourites—”

“I’ll buy you another one,” Crowley said,and he dipped lower, dragging his tongue in a ticklish line over the base ofAziraphale’s belly where it overhung his trousers, and Aziraphale jumped,gasping and letting his hands settle on top of Crowley’s head. “Even tighter,even tighter—”

“You just want me to dress in clothes likeyours,” Aziraphale said breathlessly as Crowley undid a button with his tongueand his teeth: the fabric burst apart, flapping open like a curtain in a highwind, and Aziraphale gasped at the sudden loss of tight pressure. Crowley’stongue immediately pressed to the little mark the button had left on the softflesh, digging into it, and Aziraphale—

He was aroused.

Hotly aroused, aroused in a way he neverhad been before, his skin alight. He had hardly expected Crowley to be sodesperately eager: he had only wanted to commiserate, perhaps to have Crowleyoffer to buy him another shirt, when Crowley had been so eager to supplementhis wardrobe, but—

But this was different, this was…

Crowley bit the underside of his belly, andAziraphale grabbed at his hair.

“Oh, oh, my dear, my dear boy, you reallymust—”

“Busy,” Crowley said, and he undid anotherbutton, and then he bit down on the white and red marks from it, bit down hard,and Aziraphale heaved in a desperate gasp, but he wasn’t thinking, wasn’t thinking,and he breathed in too much: one of the buttons popped, and Crowley let out sucha desperate noise that Aziraphale felt his own prick give a lurch in histrousers. “Oh, oh, I want to lick every part of you.”

Crowley licked at him again, licked andsucked and nipped at him, his fingers playing with his belly on each side,grasping at his hips, and his right hand slapped the skin—

“You beast,” Aziraphale gasped out, and hefelt himself roll his hips forward slightly, plaintively, but Crowley wasn’tlooking at his crotch, was focusing on his gut, still, just… His tongue was asin in itself, and there was blood rushingdown, rushing…

The silk was damp in places now,sweat-slick from Crowley’s sucking mouth, and he dragged at the two hems of theshirt and pulled, dragged at it, sothat it was tight against his stomach and chest, and Aziraphale let out anoise. He grabbed at Crowley’s hair, at his shoulder, said, “Crowley, Crowley,you’ll ruin it—”

“It’sss fine, it doesssn’t fit,” Crowleyhissed, and dragged: buttons popped fromtheir threads one-by-one, flying across the room and just leaving the silk tootight on Aziraphale’s arms, his shoulders: his chest and stomach burst free,and Crowley grabbed at him, grabbed at him and tongued…

“Crowley, I need you, I need you to—”

“One second, one second,” Crowley moaned,biting down on a space of creamy-white flesh and marking it with his teeth—

Aziraphale could hardly help it. His prickhad never been quite so engorged with blood, quite so hard, and he was desperately eager as he vanished histrousers away, grabbing Crowley by his hair and pulling him to suck his cock.Crowley let out a surprised moan, but when Aziraphale thrust into his mouth heopened it wider, his tongue wrapping about Aziraphale’s prick.

Usually, Crowley tried to do some cleverthings with his tongue, tried to show off and play with him, but Aziraphale wasin no mood for it: the need he felt was urgent and overpowering, and he draggedCrowley right up against his crotch, thrusting against his throat. Crowley was moaning, moaning and making sloppy, suckingnoises: the moans vibrated against Aziraphale’s prick, and he grabbed at handfulsof Aziraphale’s thighs, at his arse, gripping and pulling at the pillowy fleshas Aziraphale choked him on his prick.

It was—

He’d never felt like this before.

He’d never felt such urgent, primal need. He liked to ruin Crowley, certainly,liked to take sex slowly and surely, liked to draw it out and enjoy it, butthis was a hunger, a desperation, a need, and he thrust himselfdown Crowley’s handsome throat, thrust against his face and felt Crowley’s eagercries give way to whimpers.

When Aziraphale came, it was a revelation,left his knees quaking as the orgasm racked his body, wonderful, honeyed heatbursting through him as he rode it out, heard Crowley choke and splutter and presseven closer…

He pulled back, and he stared down atCrowley, who was breathing heavily, his skin asheen with sweat, come dribblingover his chin and his bruised lips, staring up at Aziraphale…

Aziraphale shivered, gently touching theside of Crowley’s cheek as the golden glow gave way to… fatigue. “Oh, my dear,”he whispered. “Oh, that was— I’m sorry, that was so disgraceful of me, I didn’teven give you the chance to… Why don’t I use my mouth on you, hm? I can—”

“No need,” Crowley said, slightly hoarsely,and he wiped his mouth on the back of his bare arm.

“No n— But your hands, they were busy—”

“Didn’t need ‘em,” Crowley mumbled, and he was blushing, now, his cheeks burningred as he got shakily to his feet. “You’ve never… You’ve never done that to me,it was so… So selfish, so commanding.I felt like a toy.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, guilt flooding himas he reached up to cup Crowley’s cheeks. “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry—"

“No, no,” Crowley said. “No, I… I want youto do that again. Not now, but—” Crowley sighed, his expression a mask ofbliss. “I loved that. And the shirt,too, the shirt…” He fell forward, against Aziraphale’s chest, nuzzling at it,and Aziraphale shakily leaned on him.

“I believe I require a lie-down,” he said.

“Carry me,” Crowley mumbled, and Aziraphalechuckled, but—

But Crowley deserved some soft treatment,after that, and he dragged him toward the bed.