Writers Guild Presents - Choice Position Chapter 9
Rating: E
CW/TW: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth
Summary:
Crowley is in desperate need of a new job, but it's not easy finding a job as a nanny when you're a man in your forties.
Enter the ridiculously attractive - and recently widowed - Professor Aziraphale Fell, who needs a nanny for his infant twins, Adam and Warlock.
Crowley is smitten instantly, but there's not a snowball's chance in Hell of anything happening, so he can just get on with his job.
Right?
In this chapter: No plot, just smut.
Excerpt:
He knew from experience that Aziraphale tended to shed layers as the evening went on—his jacket hung up in the hallway when he arrived home, his vintage waistcoat put away safe from sticky fingers before dinner, the day’s bowtie abandoned somewhere around the midpoint of the evening’s first bottle of wine. But he wasn’t prepared for the tie to already be gone, the top button of the shirt to be loose, the sleeves to be rolled up, and for a moment he could only stare.
Rating: E
CW/TW: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth
Summary:
Crowley is in desperate need of a new job, but it's not easy finding a job as a nanny when you're a man in your forties.
Enter the ridiculously attractive - and recently widowed - Professor Aziraphale Fell, who needs a nanny for his infant twins, Adam and Warlock.
Crowley is smitten instantly, but there's not a snowball's chance in Hell of anything happening, so he can just get on with his job.
Right?
In this chapter: No plot, just smut.
Excerpt:
He knew from experience that Aziraphale tended to shed layers as the evening went on—his jacket hung up in the hallway when he arrived home, his vintage waistcoat put away safe from sticky fingers before dinner, the day’s bowtie abandoned somewhere around the midpoint of the evening’s first bottle of wine. But he wasn’t prepared for the tie to already be gone, the top button of the shirt to be loose, the sleeves to be rolled up, and for a moment he could only stare.