CROLO by Swee Heng’s Chinese New Year Buy 2 for S$5 promotion is still on, so I picked up two desserts. The promo is only valid if you choose from the chiller selections which is the second picture below. The prices of the items ranged from cheapest S$2.80 to most expensive at S$3.20.
The first dessert I chose is this Kinder Bueno Croissant (S$3). A perfect blend of crispy croissant and rich, creamy filling with half a stick of Kinder Bueno embedded. The flaky pastry is drizzled with stripes of dark chocolate and filled with heavenly flavours of milk chocolate and hazelnut inside.
The moment I set my eyes on the pile of cubed mango; I knew I just had to choose the Fresh Mango Custard CroRoll (S$3.20). The perfect combination of flaky croissant-roll topped with a smooth custard cream and freshly cut juicy mango chunks. The sweet tropical fruit with hint of acidity and creamy custard cream transports one to a sunny island paradise.
Responding to the several kind requests for more involving Crowley thirsting over Chubby!Aziraphale the only way I know how.
NSFW. NSFCD. NC17 to be on the safe side. Smutty and gratuitous. You’ve been warned.
@awritersrejections @idinink @jedi-pumpkin-pie @kheauzx @littlemissanglerfish (tagging those who may be predisposed to read this. If you want to be removed/added, let me know)
AN: This can be read as a standalone tormented and aroused Crowley pleasuring himself because Aziraphale is a hot chubby sexy delicious mess fic, or as a follow on from ‘Come on and sit on my hot seat of love’(https://shark-from-the-park.tumblr.com/post/185636324936/fic-come-on-and-sit-on-my-hot-seat-of-love), it should work just as well either way. Sort of masturbation-without-plot? Sorry.
But listen, fandom, this is my gift to you. A portmanteau for Crowley masturbating, you ask (and by ‘you ask’, I of course mean: No-one asked)? A portmanteau for Crowley Solo? …
#Crolo.
Prouder of that word than the fic, tbh. Have that one on me, fam.
It’s a hard life
Crowley slithered onto his bed and under his silk-covered goose down duvet, whimpering needily to himself.
He was so fucking horny.
Embarrassingly horny.
And it was all Aziraphale’s stupid fault.
Crowley vanished his clothes with an irritable flick of his wrist and huffed into his expensive pillow miserably.
Stupid, stupid, sexy, delicious angel and his stupid, sexy, delicious way of not realising that he was sexy…
He flung himself fitfully onto his back, and palmed his hard cock, toes curling against the 300 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets.
He thought about earlier on today, in the bookshop, how the buttons of the angel’s waistcoast had strained slightly as they struggled to contain the round swell of Aziraphale’s paunch, and he clumsily stroked his fist over his erection, whining aloud in the still air of his bedroom.
He thought about when they had been feeding the ducks in the park this morning, and they’d had to squeeze past several young mothers with prams on the narrow path, and his wrist had slightly, accidentally, brushed against the exaggerated curve of Aziraphale’s backside as they’d manoeuvred themselves. How his mind had completely blanked out afterwards, and he had come to himself again once they were sitting on their usual bench and the angel was wittering on about some topic that Crowley couldn’t even begin to decipher.
Crowley grunted and spread his bare legs apart on his luxury sheets, thrusting his hips upward to slide his leaking cock through the dry tunnel of his fist. Oh fuck, that felt so good... But it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, the really good tingly human body feelings were just frustratingly beyond his reach…
His hips rutted upwards and he whined again, desperate.
He wondered about how it would feel to properly touch the flesh of Aziraphale’s backside, without all sorts of fabric in the way, what would the, - ah - consistency be like… Would his hand bounce back from it if he were to give it a gentle smack… What would the sound of that be like… Ahhhh… Nggggggg.
Panting, Crowley spread his knees apart as far as they would go and lowered his hand from his cock to massage his balls, keening and writhing against himself at the sensation.
Thinking about the solid, heavy weight of the angel. Imagining lying face down underneath that bulk… Crushed into the mattress underneath Aziraphale’s warm, naked flesh. Blanketed by him. Covered by him. Pressed down by him…
Ahhhhh… fuck… His serpentine hips were grinding, making pathetic little circles in thin air.
Glaring determinedly at the pristine concrete finish on the wall adjacent to his bed, pretending to himself that this wasn’t where his hand had been heading all along, Crowley casually dropped his fingers to stroke a little lower than his balls.
His lower body involuntarily jerked off the bed and he made a sound a bit like a sob.
Propping himself on one shaky elbow for leverage, Crowley’s fingers finally reached his puckered arse hole.
He now made a sound entirely like a sob.
Biting his lip against the overwhelming sensations, he pushed his index finger past the threshold of the tight ring of muscle, wriggling it a bit, enjoying the stretch.
Thinking of Aziraphale’s wriggles. And wiggles. His peculiar little movements and the way his extra flesh jiggled in response to them.
Crowley’s head dropped back and he moaned aloud. He wriggled his finger free of his arse again in order to bring his hand to his mouth and hock and spit onto it (and how disgustingly, delightfully human that was…), lowering the saliva covered digits again to spread the wetness around the outside and just inside of his twitching hole.
The unapologetic way that Aziraphale filled out his clothing to the seams. The way he ate… Fuck, fuck, fuck. The way he ate. His pink lips parting to welcome a delicious morsel into his mouth. The naked enjoyment on his face as he chewed and swallowed.
Crowley’s moist index finger probed inside himself again as he wet his lips with his tongue, seeking, attempting to dig deeper. He growled and bucked his hips wildly in frustration. If he’d had another hand or two, or could be bothered to miracle them into being right now, he might have torn at his hair. He slid his middle finger in beside the first, gently thrusting inside himself.
Ahhh, uhhhhn. Aziraphale’s thick, meaty thighs, and the way they spread and pushed against the seams of his trousers when he sat down. Nnnnnnnng. Oh… Somebody. The way they sloped upwards into the obscene curve of his arse, which was usually mostly obscured behind the tails of a coat or jacket. But the hint of the round, plump, peachy shape was still there even through the layers… And Crowley could remember watching the bounce of the angel’s plump behind through a thin white toga, millenia ago.
Fuck fuck fuck.
What the fuck was the point of his own lanky, angled body - of any body that wasn’t gloriously curved and soft, if it didn’t have dimples, if the flesh didn’t wobble and strain and bounce…
“Oh Sss-… Merc-… SOMEBODY. Somebody damn it all…” Crowley writhed against his two probing fingers, attempting to get them deeper, to crook them slightly, to hit the spot…
To no avail.
Shuddering with the strength of his arousal, he gave up on his arse, withdrawing his fingers, and rolled onto his front. He wriggled around on the bed until he had a squashy lump of duvet stacked under his hips, and he rutted himself desperately on it, gripping a chunk of duvet between his skinny thighs and gasping at the excrutiating sensation. His face flooded red with embarrassed heat as he thrust his bare arse out and back into thin air, arching his spine.
He frantically imagined nipping at the roll of chub that appeared under Aziraphale’s chin whenever he angled his head downwards slightly. Or nibbling oh so gently at the flesh of his thighs while his own skinny hands rested on the soft warmth of the angel’s belly. Or gripping tightly at the soft flesh of the angels flanks. Fuck fuck fuck…
Crowley took his aching, weeping cock back in hand and thrust forward into the blessed friction, exaggerating the movement of his hips as he thrust backwards and pulled his cock entirely out of his grip… Before thrusting forwards into his fist to start the whole glorious cycle again…
“Fuck! ANGEL… Why are you so… Sssssssooo… Fuck… Why are you sssssso…. Damned hot…..”
He grunted with the effort of his stuttering hip thrusts as he bucked into his own palm. Somehow the imagined sensation of his arse being thrust against by a pair of chubby thighs was even better than the real sensation of his foreskin being pulled down over the head of his cock by the tight grip of his hand.
He imagined reaching back with one hand and clutching at Aziraphale’s padded hip in encouragement as the angel thrust inside him, flesh slapping against flesh. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck…
Crowley’s hand shook as he pumped himself, once, twice more…
He was… He was going to… He was…
“Angel!!” He cried, and came all over his duvet, his stomach and his hand.
His arms collapsed under his weight and he slumped forwards into his own mess, shuddering with his whole body, gasping for the air he didn’t technically need.
Pleasure was shooting through him like lightning, tingling in his fingers and toes. His mind went blissfully blank for a few precious minutes as his cock jerked fitfully in his loose grasp and kept on spurting out little dribbles of come until he was completely and utterly drained.
It took a long time for him to regain his senses, his body still thrumming with exquisite fire.
When the vague feeling of guilty shame began to creep over him, Crowley breathed deeply and waved away the mess from himself and his bedding, still feeling a phantom stickiness even after the physical evidence was all gone.
It’s fine… Nothing to see here. Just a demon, lying naked on top of his bedclothes. Shivering. And blushing.
He cleared his throat several times, yet another human habit he had picked up, in an attempt to get a bit of his swagger back (it had never actually worked before and didn’t buck the trend this time around).
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow he would call the angel.
No, no. He’d drop by and see him.
And he’d casually just… just…
Ask him out on a date. In so many words. So that the angel would know he meant a proper date. Like, an official date. As opposed to all of their regular, normal, everyday dates.
He’d just ask him. See how it went.
It had only been a month or so since they’d not really stopped the not-really-apocalypse together, after all. They’d very nearly lost everything.
And humans asked each other out on dates all the time.
How hard could it be?
Crowley screamed into his extremely expensive pillow.
Taking advantage of Crolo By Swee Heng’s CNY two for S$5 promotion, I bought the Apple Crumbles Croroll (usual price S$2.80). This croroll is supposed to feature sweet and tart apple chunks topped with buttery crumbles, creating a delightful blend of flavours and textures. It’s a taste of home in every bite, perfect for those who crave a bit of nostalgia with their sweet treats. Unfortunately, it is too tart and not sweet enough plus there is a bitter aftertaste, maybe a little too much of the cinnamon.
Crunchy Salted Caramel Croffle (usual price S$2.80) featuring a soft butter croffle, salted caramel drip, and crunchy nibs. The crispy pastry comes with a rich and gooey salted caramel cream that is topped with crunchy caramel bits, creating a delightful texture and flavour contrast. It’s the perfect treat for those who love a balance of sweet and salty flavours.
Mum had the rich and buttery Egyptian Butter Bread (S$2.50 or 3 for S$7). Made with a traditional recipe and baked to perfection, this bread is soft, fluffy, and packed with flavour. Each bite is a delightful experience, perfect for breakfast, lunch, or a snack. Best of all, mum said she enjoy eating it.
Me and mum took the bus to Northpoint City on a rainy Saturday afternoon for our usual weekends “date”. As Chinese New Year is just around the corner, everyone seems to be in a buying mood and the shopping mall is packed with customers. Thought of buying some sushi home but CROLO by Swee Heng had a better offer to entice me. The promotion said buy any two chilled items for just S$5. And I can choose from the assortment of sweet or savoury pastries.
Chilli Crab Stick Mayo Croissant (S$3) has a flaky and buttery pastry filled with savoury crab stick, creamy mayo, and a kick of chili for an explosion of flavour in every bite. While it isn’t bad tasting, the lack of real seafood did detract me from liking it. I think adding a few chunky prawn meats might just do the trick.
On the other hand, I absolutely love the Tiramisu Croissant (S$2.80). It’s perfect blend of espresso and mascarpone cheese combined with the buttery, flaky croissant takes your taste buds on a sensational journey. The crunchy and nutty walnuts add to the overall enjoyment.
"Não existe amor em SP Os bares estão cheios de almas tão vazias A ganância vibra, a vaidade excita Devolva minha vida e morra Afogada em seu próprio mar de fel Aqui ninguém vai pro céu." #Crolo Que tal alcançar o Céu? #Sexta #Gordinho #SóDeCoisaBoaEuVivo
