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crack_van2010-08-25 02:14 pm
laceymcbain.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2010-08-25 02:14 pm
Entry tags:
Compromising Positions / Detente by vulgarweed (NC-17)
Fandom: GOOD OMENS
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Length: ~ 5456 / 2655 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vulgarweed
Author Website: Vulgarweed's AO3 page
Why this must be read: I couldn't let the month run out without sharing at least a couple slashy fics of the NC-17 variety. The majority of slash in the fandom runs more along the lines of friendship-turned-to-love and fade-to-black sex scenes, which is perfectly wonderful. But sometimes you just want a bit more ... more skin, more fire, more ruffled feathers.
It's Ancient Rome, circa 40 AD, the Festival of Saturnalia, where the world goes topsy-turvy, people switch places, and the natural order of things takes a holiday. Aziraphale has been named local Lord of Misrule, and his neighbours think it's high time the unassuming angel get some. In this instance (in the words of our charming author), "'do as the Romans do' involved rather publicly and noisily giving an Agent of the Adversary the shagging of his existence, while one was wearing entirely too much costume jewelry and purple drapery and the other was wearing mostly body oil, a slave collar, and a smile."
And, of course, the follow-up fic has Crowley pushing for his rightful turn at things, set in a luxurious Roman bath. Steamy, in more ways than one, and if you develop a wet wing!kink, don't say I didn't warn you.
“There is nobody who has ever met you in the history of the world who has ever thought you’d be interested in women,” Crowley sighed. He was sure he’d explained this before.
“Just as well, I suppose,” the angel muttered. “That got some of my people in a lot of trouble once.”
“You know this, er, gentleman?” chuckled one of the boys who’d been occasionally handing Crowley a glass of wine, or sometimes an oyster.
“But of course--the bookseller. You should see what’s in his back room, my pretty.”
Aziraphale harrumphed in dissent, but the boy was looking at him with new interest.
He decided to not deign to refute this and simply asked Crowley, “Well, how shall I do this then?”
“Your Lordship’s choice,” the demon grinned, enjoying very much the way Aziraphale was uncomfortably postponing the inevitable and making his own torment worse by the moment. “I’ve been had all sorts of ways. By men and women. But if I may suggest,” and there was that stage whisper again, “since everyone who knows you thinks you’re, er, --I will try to be tactful: effeminate...I think it’d be amusing if you proved them wrong by fucking me—if you can.”
Aziraphale had thought he couldn’t get anymore lightheaded with disbelief. He was wrong. “Of course I can,” he blurted, realising uncomfortably as he said it that it was true. “But…” In this situation, he decided, praying for strength would be highly inappropriate. “You, my dear, in muliebra pati?”
“Please, I’ve been doing that all day. Besides, I fail to see how my reputation could get any worse,” Crowley said proudly, watching Aziraphale’s deer-in-the-torchlights expression with obvious delight.
Read the story: Compromising Positions
And its sequel: Detente
Don't forget to feedback the author - it doesn't matter how old or new the story is. Authors love to hear from you!
Pairing: Aziraphale/Crowley
Length: ~ 5456 / 2655 words
Author on LJ:
vulgarweedAuthor Website: Vulgarweed's AO3 page
Why this must be read: I couldn't let the month run out without sharing at least a couple slashy fics of the NC-17 variety. The majority of slash in the fandom runs more along the lines of friendship-turned-to-love and fade-to-black sex scenes, which is perfectly wonderful. But sometimes you just want a bit more ... more skin, more fire, more ruffled feathers.
It's Ancient Rome, circa 40 AD, the Festival of Saturnalia, where the world goes topsy-turvy, people switch places, and the natural order of things takes a holiday. Aziraphale has been named local Lord of Misrule, and his neighbours think it's high time the unassuming angel get some. In this instance (in the words of our charming author), "'do as the Romans do' involved rather publicly and noisily giving an Agent of the Adversary the shagging of his existence, while one was wearing entirely too much costume jewelry and purple drapery and the other was wearing mostly body oil, a slave collar, and a smile."
And, of course, the follow-up fic has Crowley pushing for his rightful turn at things, set in a luxurious Roman bath. Steamy, in more ways than one, and if you develop a wet wing!kink, don't say I didn't warn you.
“There is nobody who has ever met you in the history of the world who has ever thought you’d be interested in women,” Crowley sighed. He was sure he’d explained this before.
“Just as well, I suppose,” the angel muttered. “That got some of my people in a lot of trouble once.”
“You know this, er, gentleman?” chuckled one of the boys who’d been occasionally handing Crowley a glass of wine, or sometimes an oyster.
“But of course--the bookseller. You should see what’s in his back room, my pretty.”
Aziraphale harrumphed in dissent, but the boy was looking at him with new interest.
He decided to not deign to refute this and simply asked Crowley, “Well, how shall I do this then?”
“Your Lordship’s choice,” the demon grinned, enjoying very much the way Aziraphale was uncomfortably postponing the inevitable and making his own torment worse by the moment. “I’ve been had all sorts of ways. By men and women. But if I may suggest,” and there was that stage whisper again, “since everyone who knows you thinks you’re, er, --I will try to be tactful: effeminate...I think it’d be amusing if you proved them wrong by fucking me—if you can.”
Aziraphale had thought he couldn’t get anymore lightheaded with disbelief. He was wrong. “Of course I can,” he blurted, realising uncomfortably as he said it that it was true. “But…” In this situation, he decided, praying for strength would be highly inappropriate. “You, my dear, in muliebra pati?”
“Please, I’ve been doing that all day. Besides, I fail to see how my reputation could get any worse,” Crowley said proudly, watching Aziraphale’s deer-in-the-torchlights expression with obvious delight.
Read the story: Compromising Positions
And its sequel: Detente
Don't forget to feedback the author - it doesn't matter how old or new the story is. Authors love to hear from you!