#avo's kt 23

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 4

4. Overstimulation, Oviposition/Egglaying, Human Urinal

notes: this was inspired by this incredible fic from @naromoreau, thank you so much for putting naga!crowley into my mind! also this is super monster-fucky. i do not apologise.

afab!reader

biologically this is not at all how snakes work but uhhhhhhh Crowley is a demon so I’m allowed creative license 🤷‍♂️

Crowley’s been irritable. 

Snapping, brooding, being generally difficult to be around. You can tell Aziraphale doesn’t love it either, but he’s at least had the commodity of knowing Crowley for longer. In fifty years of happy romance between the three of you this is the first time that your demon has ever gotten on your nerves, and you won’t stand for it. 

“Look,” you say through gritted teeth after he’s barked at you for some unrealised slight, “you’re in a mood. But it isn’t my fault, and it isn’t Aziraphale’s, so stop taking it out on us.”

Aziraphale freezes and looks between the two of you. Crowley raises himself up to his full height… and then deflates.

“Sorry,” he mutters, running a hand over his face. “You’re right, it isn’t your fault. I’m just…”

He trails off, and you can tell he’s trying to work out if he should admit something. You close the gap and take his hand.

“Crowley, love. If there's something the matter you need to tell me. Tell us. We can help!”

Is he blushing? It’s hard to tell, as he turns his face away.

“Look, I’m just a bit… worked up.”

“Oh! …Oh. Well, there’s no reason we can’t assist with that?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Crowley sighs. You look over to Aziraphale. He clearly has more of an idea of what’s going on, but knows it’s Crowley’s truth to tell. “It’s demon breeding season.”

Your cheeks get hot all of a sudden.

“Oh, I see. I didn’t even realise they had one of those.”

“Well, of course. Otherwise where would new demons come from?” he asks, baffled at your confusion. You suppose you don’t have an answer for that.

“So what do you need to do?”

“Well, usually I’d just slither downstairs and find someone receptive and we’d –”

“No!” you say, suddenly, with such force it makes both of your partners jump. In the future you’ll experiment more with other bodies, engage in orgies so you can watch Aziraphale and Crowley be fucked (and become smug in the way it’s never quite as good as when you do it) but for now the idea of your demon being in bed with anyone but the people in this room shreds your heart. “I mean, look. You don’t need to do that. I’ll help.”

“We’ll help,” Aziraphale says softly. You know this must be quite a gap for him to bridge, having known Crowley when he’s been going through these heats before, but now knowing him as a lover. Crowley looks between the two of you, strangely touched.

“Are you certain? I don’t look… I’m a bit more demonic when I need to mate.”

The idea sends a chill down your spine to straight between your legs.

“That’s fine,” you say, a little too quickly. Despite it all, Crowley grins.

“Alright. Get to the bedroom. I’ll be right with you.”

🐍

You strip down, quickly, excitedly. Secretly you’ve wondered about what Crowley looks like when he’s a proper demon for a while. Hellfire caressing your skin? Horns to grab onto? Your mind is going a mile a minute.

You turn to Aziraphale. He’s removed his cravat and overcoat, and is currently turning up his sleeves to the elbow. You look at him, confused.

“Are you not going to…?” you gesture to your bare body. Aziraphale smiles.

“I think this might be something you want to experience by yourself first, love.”

You open your mouth to ask him what that means, but you’re distracted by the sound of a door creaking.

Crowley slithers in.

No, literally.

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this. The top half of him is the Crowley you know. Bronzed skin, copper hair down his back, yellow eyes with blown-wide snake pupils. 

But that isn’t the only part of him that’s serpentine.

From his hips onwards, he is entirely tail. Black scales rippling as he moves towards you, osteoderms moving with his breath. He looks both entirely like and unlike himself, a strange creation of familiar and not. 

He is beautiful.

“Oh,” is all you can manage from where the rest of your body has frozen. You know it was the wrong move, because Crowley looks deflated.

“You don’t like it,” he says with a sigh, and you immediately feel terrible. What he means is ‘you don’t like me.’ You can hear the sadness tinging his voice. So you step forward, hand out, careful.

“No, love, it’s not that at all. Just give me a moment to… adjust.”

You move forward, unsure how to touch him. Aziraphale’s voice whispers from behind you:

“Go on, nightingale. He won’t hurt you.” And then, after a beat, when the angel realises what you’re really worried about, “you won’t hurt him.”

You run your palm along the soft heat of his scales and Crowley sighs, both in relief and in excitement. You take your time, exploring the pattern of him, the curve of his tail. You don’t realise but soon he’s begun to curl around you, wrapping you up gorgeously tight in his coils. Soon your legs are totally engulfed by him. 

“Isss thisss alright, nightingale?” he asks, voice low. You try to move and find that you can’t, really, but at the same time you’re fine with it - you know the one holding you is someone you trust with your life.

“Very,” you laugh. You feel someone embrace you from behind and realise Aziraphale has crossed over to you, his chest against your back, his face buried in the crook of your neck. You give yourself over to the strange new feeling of being held like this.

“So now what?” you ask, looking at Crowley’s tail, trying to work out how he mates. It doesn’t take you long to find it: a slit towards where his groin would be, beginning to leak slick down his scales. You run your fingers over it and Crowley gasps, shuddering. “Do you need me to touch you here?”

Crowley shakes his head, breathless with delighted chuckles.

“No. Well, I want you to, but that doesssn’t have to be part of it.”

You decide that you want to as well. You press into him there, his cloaca, and giggle when he leans forward to rest his forehead on your free shoulder.

“Fuck…” he groans. 

“If you’re offering,” you say, cheekily. Both your partners huff a laugh, and as you explore deeper into him, you feel something beginning to emerge. You remove your hand to make way, expecting some sort of appendage… and to be fair, it is, but not one you’ve ever seen before.

“What’s that?” you ask, breathless and both bewildered and gleeful.

“That’sss… what I use to lay my eggs.”

A beat passes.

“Hmm.”

“Sssstill game?”

“Crowley, am I going to get pregnant from this?” you ask with very real concern. A hand comes up to caress your face, a thumb swipes across the plush of your lips.

“No, love. I’d need to fertilissse them too, and I won’t do that. I jusssst need sssomewhere to, erm. Push them.”

Well, you’ve come this far. Over the last fifty years the three of you have introduced many things into the bedroom: lace, leather, toys. But as your demonic lover says he wants to lay eggs inside you while your angelic one helps you brace for it, it’s nice to know that there’s still some surprises you can give each other.

You nod, and lay back. Crowley’s eyes go wide.

“You’re sssure?”

“Yes, love. Of course.”

What leaves his cloaca is a tube, for want of a better term. It’s just over a foot long and dripping with slickness. It seems to give him pleasure as it releases, you know what he looks like when he’s about to orgasm, and when it twists its way towards you all you can do is relax into his tail, into Aziraphale’s arms.

The angel threads his fingers through yours and holds you tightly. 

“You’ll be fine, darling.”

“You don’t seem very surprised about any of this,” you say, breathlessly. A thought occurs to you. “Hang on, have you done this before?”

Aziraphale goes bright pink.

“Erm…”

“Once,” Crowley hisses, grinning - have his teeth gotten sharper? No, he’s just grown fangs - “yearsssss ago. Before either of ussss met you.”

“I was a friend helping another friend,” Aziraphale says quickly, a line he’s clearly been using to justify his lust for years. You can’t help but laugh at your utterly daft and obtuse lovers, and that’s good – it loosens you up and allows Crowley to slip inside your cunt.

You’re already quite wet from the new, explorative play that’s come so far, but the tube is slick and searching. It surges up inside you, far inside you, further than either of their cocks have ever hit, but it doesn’t hurt. Something about what it’s secreting is relaxing your inner muscles and allowing it access into your core. You gasp as you feel Crowley root himself there, and the demon moans.

“Fuck. You’re…”

You’re too overstimulated to reply, so just nod. Yes. He is, too. Across the width of your shoulders you see Aziraphale kiss Crowley, soft and long.

“You are so lovely like this, Crowley.”

“Gorgeous,” you manage, honestly, and Crowley looks like the praise might make him burst. Settling back into the moment he locks his eyes on yours, serious, sincere.

“”I’m going to ssstart now. It might feel a bit sssstrange, but I promisssse it will be good.”

“It is,” Aziraphale agrees, shyly. You smile, and nod. You trust them.

Crowley closes his eyes and you see him squeeze. Something travels through his tube, passing through him and up inside you. The strange spherical nature of the object has you gasping, firstly in surprise and then in pleasure. The press of it is strange and illicit and when it pops inside of you, you try to roil; you can’t though. Crowley has you too tightly.

“That’sss the firsssst one.”

“Oh my god,” you moan.

“Are you alright?”

“Keep going,” you command, your voice no-nonsense. And Crowley does. Another egg passes from inside him to inside you, pressing through your cervix with no issue to deposit safely. After four of them you’re beginning to feel a bit full. By seven, you can feel the eggs jostling around inside of you, an unusual and filthy intimate slide. Your silky insides are making them the perfect home.

“How… how many are there?” you breathe. Crowley’s face is drenched with sweat, his eyes rolling back in his head. From his cloaca a fresh stream of cum drips onto the tops of your thighs.

“Usually ten or twelve.”

“Twelve?!” you gasp, not sure how you’ll fit those, but willing to try. On cue, another egg presses your vulva apart and nestles in deep. 

You’re showing them now, stomach starting to stretch. It doesn’t hurt though. It feels wonderful. You’ve never been so full before, your body warm and deliciously thrumming. You look over your shoulder to where Aziraphale is holding you, in some strange approximation of a husband helping a wife give birth. His eyes are firmly fixed on your abdomen, lips slightly apart, cheeks bright red.

“Aziraphale?”

“Sorry, darling. You just look…” he trails off, instead choosing to rest his hand on your stomach. You moan as he bumps the eggs inside you, and for a moment you’re swept up in it, and think it wouldn’t be so bad to have Crowley make them viable, maybe you’d quite like carrying his clutch, so long as the two of them looked after you like this.

The last two eggs come at once, one right after the other, filling you to the brim. You can feel them taking up the tunnel to your core, hardly fitting in properly. You whine and try to find a way to feel comfortable, but you’re so full, so needy, and they’re pushing against that sweet spot inside you, and –

You come unexpectedly, an orgasm wracking your body wildly. It takes over your every sense with a crashing wave, your cunt tightening and spasming as Crowley finally withdraws. You’ve never been so stuffed in your life and it’s wonderful.

“How long… How long do they stay?” you manage when your heart is finally at a normal pace again.

“A couple of hoursss, until they realissse they’re not going to grow. Then they’ll disssssolve.”

“Dissolve?!”

“It won’t hurt, my love,” Aziraphale assures you, hand still protectively on your bump. “In fact it’s somewhat of an aphrodisiac.”

You moan and collapse into them. You’re not sure how you’re going to survive this.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael

[kaylinelizabeth4004]

Fem!Aziraphale

Just wanted to post it as it’s own thing since there was so much from earlier!! I’m actually really proud of this!!

Thanks for the inspiration @avocado-writing <3

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 8

8. Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die, Chastity, Sexual Competition

You are going to die.

It didn’t take that first time, almost two thousand years ago when they hammered you up, but now? In this bed? Oh, this is it. You’re going to cum to death.

“One more, nightingale.”

“I can’t,” you choke. The tears have been dry for a long time, you simply have no more left in you. Now you’re just exhausted. The apex of your legs felt like it was on fire three orgasms ago and now you’re at a grand total of eight - four from each of them.

They can be utterly petty when it comes down to brass tacks. Your boys started getting under each other’s skin over something small, which turned into an argument, which turned into something they wanted to rope you into. And that became “which first time did you prefer?”

You cannot answer that question. To compare them is to compare apples to oranges, and you want a whole fruit salad. Making love to them both is so utterly different you couldn’t begin to pull at threads because it’s always better together.

They didn’t accept that answer, though. So they took you to bed.

They’ve taken turns fucking you. You’re so full of come there’s no chance of it staying inside you, now. Your hole is fucked-out and pliant, your lovers’ spend dripping from it in a sinful cocktail. Their mouths, fingers, cocks, cunts - all of them have made you come as they shift into whatever the next challenge is.

You’re boneless. You’re exhausted. You’re sure you’ve been taken in every possible way on this bed, all angles, all positions, and you can’t do it any more. You’re not certain if it was Aziraphale holding you up against the wall and pistoning into you that did it, that sex-filled slap of skin on skin; or if it was Crowley pressing his pussy down onto your face while he took deep mouthfuls of your sex which definitely already tasted like both him and the angel.

As Aziraphale moves to put his hand between your legs one more time you hiss and push him away. He immediately retreats.

“Darling?”

“No more!” you cry, throat raw from fucking and moaning. “No more. I’m done.”

And then you can cry again, and suddenly they’re either side of you, not to rut but to comfort. Aziraphale catches your hand and presses soft, feather-light kisses to it, Crowley caressing your face. A glass of water is summoned and they help you drink it, a cold washcloth pressed to your sex. You hiss and then relax as it begins to cool you down.

“We’re sorry, nightingale,” Crowley whispers, yellow eyes full of concern and care. You wave it off.

“Don’t apologise to me. I’ll be fine. Apologise to each other for being so silly. If you’re going to give me eight orgasms again I’d much prefer they were collaborative,” you say, laughing huskily. And it’s true. All is forgiven on your part; if you tap out they’ll listen. Crowley and Aziraphale lock eyes across the plains of you, the remnants of their lovemaking.

“I’m sorry, angel.”

“I’m sorry, Crowley.”

They kiss, long and slow and sincere, and you smile.

“There we go,” you hum, bringing them both to your chest to hold them tightly. “I like fruit salad.”

“What?”

“Mmm, nothing.”

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 2

2. Frottage, Sexual Frustration, Virginity

notes: this fic has mentions of reader being female presenting!

You’re at a ball.

You do like balls, to be fair, they’re an excuse for you to dress up nicely and wave a fan in front of your face and look demure. You like talking about the mad king and speculating what’s next for the monarchy. You like dancing. You like spending the night with your boys.

Except when they’re being like this.

“Someone will see,” you whisper, but in a way which suggests you don’t really care that much. The three of you have absconded to a small cloak room, just away from the main dancing, and they have pressed you ever so deliciously between them. 

“You want us to stop?” Crowley whispers in your ear. No. That would be torture. You whine and shake your head, so they keep going. 

They have your dress up around your waist, their cocks freed from their breeches. Crowley has his pressed against the cleft of your arse and Aziraphale is fucking the crease where your thigh meets your groin. They are both breathing hot and heavy in your ear, one of them rubbing between your legs until you keen - you’re not sure which but, judging by the width of their fingers, it’s the angel. 

“Shh,” Aziraphale whispers, capturing your lips with a kiss so you moan into his mouth, “I’m sure you would rather not have anyone hear us, would you, nightingale?”

“No. But I might need something to keep my tongue occupied,” you suggest, wickedly. Crowley growls in the back of his throat and tears a glove off with his teeth before pressing his fingers into your mouth. You begin to suck wantonly - fellating them as you might with other parts of his anatomy. He begins to whisper a long drabble of praise into your ear - how good you are for them, now naughty. You feel your sex respond and Aziraphale huffs. 

“Oh god, oh god,” you moan around Crowley as your orgasm crescendos and you feel it dripping down your legs. Your lovers aren’t far behind. Crowley cums on the small of your back, letting his spend drip onto your plush cheeks, and Aziraphale releases on the small of your stomach, the tops of your thighs.

“Mr Crowley? Mr Fell?”

The three of you freeze. Your lovers stop still, Crowley’s fingers still gagging you. The person searching you out calls your name and the three of you exchange a look.

You suck Crowley’s fingers. Hard. He almost yelps, and you feel his spent cock twitch against your arse.

“Jane?” another voice calls, further away.

“Hmm?”

“Where are you, my dear?”

“I was just looking for our guests of honour. I could have sworn… oh, no matter. I shall be right with you!” 

Receding footsteps. The three of you let out a sigh, collapsing into each other a bit. Your dress is dropped, covering up the sinful mess you’ve been marked with.

“I could clean you up if you like, my darling,” Aziraphale whispers, kissing you lovingly. You shake your head with a grin.

“No. I like feeling the two of you on me. Besides, there’s something rather dangerous about dancing a quadrille while I feel you both streak down my legs.”

You grin and whip your fan out. Yes. You can act very demure when the time calls for it. Doesn't mean that you are, though.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 11

11. Body Hair/Shaving, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Teasing

Aziraphale is trapped behind his shopkeeper’s desk. He has to be. He’s waiting for a delivery to come and needs to be around to sign for it. Last time that he missed a parcel, it went to the sorting office and was lost for two weeks. 

Even a miracle can’t fix the Royal Mail. 

So, of course, the two of you are rubbing it in his face.

You’re hidden behind an adjacent bookshelf. From this angle, nobody from the public can see you, but Aziraphale certainly can. 

You meet his eyes as you swallow down Crowley’s cock, grinning when you hit the base. Crowley groans and throws his head back against the books. 

“Those are vintage. Be careful,” Aziraphale says, but there’s no bite to it. In fact it comes out as a bit of a whine. You see him shift uncomfortably in his seat as you begin to bob your head back and forth, tears pricking your eyes as Crowley hits the back of your throat over and over. 

“Oh Crowley, you taste gorgeous,” you say, pulling back enough to speak. Your spit makes a filthy line from his dick to your lips, you make a show of licking it clean. 

“Stop,” Aziraphale whispers. 

“You could join us.”

“I can’t.”

“You can, angel,” Crowley calls, voice hoarse. If there’s one thing better than one lover’s mouth on his cock, it’s both of them.

“Please,” you sigh, dreamily. Aziraphale adjusts his trousers and you see him losing a fight with himself. Just as he goes to stand up, deciding that the two of you are too tempting, the shop door opens with the ringing of a bell. 

Aziraphale drops back into his seat like a shot. You freeze around Crowley’s cock, him half in your mouth, his hands tangled in your hair. The two of you exchange a look and remain perfectly still. 

“Good morning Mr Fell, parcel for you!”

“Thank you,” he says, and you can tell how strained it is. Ah, your angel. Putting on a happy face but trying not to cum in his pants. 

“If you can just sign here…”

“Mmm-hmm, absolutely.”

Slowly you begin to move down on Crowley again. He grips your hair in warning, which you ignore, instead choosing to slide him entirely into your mouth. One of his hands has to come up to smother his own moans. 

“Mr Fell, are you quite alright?”

“Fine.”

His eyes flick over to the two of you. You’re playing a dangerous game, and he’s thunderously angry about it. Oh how perfect. 

Aziraphale squiggles his John Hancock, before taking the package quickly. 

“Well, see you next time!”

“Alright,” says the postie, clearly confused about Aziraphale’s strange behaviour, but not wanting to push it any further. When you hear the door shut the sound of locking isn’t far behind it. 

Azirphale’s shadow drops over the two of you. You look up from around Crowley’s cock. 

Slowly, with severity, he rolls back his sleeves to the elbow. 

“Well. Seems like the two of you need to be taught a lesson.”

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 9

9. Slutwear, Squirting/Cumshots, Prostitution/Camming/Sex-for-Service

“Come on, nightingale.”

“Ohhhh fu-uu-uu-ck…”

You draw out the vowels in your moan, only able to speak in a drawl which they drag from your throat. It is the best kind of communication. All you can do is hang onto the bedsheets as they lavish attention onto you.

Aziraphale’s cock is pistoning in and out of you, one of your legs thrown over his shoulders so he can hold you in place. The other is being spread by Crowley so that he can have better access to your cunt. He watches the way Aziraphale slides while covered in your cream, mesmerised by it, enraptured. One of his hands is rubbing your clit for all he’s worth and the other is pressing down just below your navel. 

“God, aren’t you gorgeous?” Crowley mutters, dropping a kiss on your mons. As his fingers dip harder into your skin you can feel Aziraphale’s cockhead graze your inner walls. A feeling begins to build up in you. Strange, but not entirely unpleasant, and the harder they work you the more it grows. Soon it’s not something you can hold back any more and you come with a bitten-off cry.

Your cunt floods Aziraphale’s cock, slick squirting out from where he’s inside you and coating Crowley’s hand and face.

The three of you stop dead. Aziraphale is mid-thrust. Your lovers exchange a glance.

“Oh my god!” you squeak, covering your face with your hands in embarrassment, “I’ve never… I can’t believe…! Fuck, I’m so sorry!”

“Why are you apologising?”

Aziraphale’s voice is hoarse. When you look up to see him, the look of arousal on his face is unmistakable. He gives his hips a gentle roll and you mewl in pleasure, and Crowley presses down into your clit again. When he has your attention he licks your spend off of his fingers, rolling his eyes back at the taste of you.

“There we go, nightingale. Give us another one.”

When they start moving again, you have to oblige.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 7

7. Anonymous Sex, Nonconsensual, Somnophilia

Aziraphale rarely sleeps. 

You’re not sure if this is a good thing or not. It can be lovely to wake in the morning to find him up and waiting for you while he reads, a warm smile stretching across his face as he whispers “good morning, nightingale.” But that very same fact can be a little off putting - it’s hard to get to sleep when one of your partners just lies there awake all night.

Crowley loves to sleep. Sometimes you wonder if he’s more cat than snake, the way he finds a puddle of sunlight to lie in and dozes off. He twists his body into all sorts of contortions which you can’t imagine are comfortable but never hear him complaining about, either. 

The two of you can tell Aziraphale is tired. He’s having difficulty holding conversation, isn’t as efficient at shooing customers away as he usually is. The angel needs rest, but he is as stubborn as an ox, so just telling him that will amount to nothing.

No. Aziraphale needs a carrot, not a stick.

So you and Crowley do what you do best: sweet talk him.

“I’m just saying,” you tell him, carding your fingers through his soft hair, “sleep doesn’t have to be boring, my darling. In fact it can be quite lovely. Have you ever had an orgasm someone’s given you while you’re asleep?”

This piques his interest. The angel puts down his book and looks up at you, a light dusting of pink beginning to fill his cheeks.

“I can’t say that I have, dearest.”

“Well, I’m sure that we can change that,” Crowley chimes in, a devilish smile creeping across his face, “you’ll have the best rest of your life, angel.”

He’s so easy to tempt, and he is ever so tired. So that night when you all lay down to sleep, Aziraphale is naked as a cherub and pressed between the two of you. He shuts his eyes and lays back but there’s no mistaking the rise and fall of his chest for someone who’s actually settled for the evening.

“Aziraphale, for this to work, you have to be asleep,” you tell him gently, dropping a kiss to his shoulder. He shivers in anticipation.

“But it’s so… you’re so… we could always…?”

You and Crowley exchange a look. Your angel and his earthly delights. So you tire him out, fuck him until he’s boneless, and then watch slip into sleep properly when he’s exhausted.

Crowley wipes his mouth on the back of his arm and the two of you listen out for his breathing: there it is: rhythmic, soft, dead to the world. 

Time for part two to begin, then. 

Ever so slowly, so as not to jostle him too much, the two of you start to take position. You help spread Aziraphale’s legs and hoist his arse into Crowley’s lap, his hole open and already used from earlier. Crowley watches you begin to stroke the angel’s cock. It only takes a couple of pumps before it reacts, beginning to grow hot and heavy in your hand, ripe for fucking. You press a kiss to his head as he gets fully there, grinning at the taste of yourself on him from where you rode him earlier.

You look up to see Crowley watching you intently. You give him a cheeky wink and press a kiss to his dick too, already so hard that he’s bobbing against his own stomach. He lets out a long, choked sigh through his nose and you press your finger up to his lips - shh. Be quiet. Don’t wake him. The demon lets his tongue, his long serpentine tongue, dip out and twist around you wickedly.

Crowley lines himself up and slides easily into Aziraphale’s hole inch by inch. The angel’s breath hitches for a second and Crowley freezes, but when his chest begins to slowly rise and fall again he carefully sheathes himself all the way to the hilt. He takes a moment to adapt to the pliancy of Aziraphale like this, how easy he is to manoeuvre, how willing even when in dreams. 

Gently he pulls out and presses back in. It’s such a small rock of his hips that Aziraphale barely moves, but you do hear the little sigh of bliss he lets out.

The floodgates open.

Crowley keeps fucking him like that, shallow and careful, the head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside. As he goes you plant your mouth over Aziraphale’s stiff member. His girth is always a lovely stretch for your lips and you think, for a moment, that it’s a shame he’s not awake - one of his favourite sights is one of you taking him down to the base. 

His head hits the back of your throat and you hum around him before starting to bob up and down. You do your best to match Crowley’s pace, an unhurried lovemaking entirely meant for the receiver. And you can see it’s working, too. Even from your vantage point you can see the way Aziraphale visibly relaxes, all the tension from his muscles escaping with each thrust, each suck.

Aziraphale comes in your mouth a few minutes later, gasping quietly in his sleep. As you lick him clean and swallow you see your demon sigh, happy, and his erratic hips movements stop. He pulls out of Aziraphale gently and you admire the drip of his cum from the angel’s thoroughly used hole.

The two of you kiss, slowly and passionately, before you lay back down into bed, either side of your angel. You tangle your fingers together across his plush stomach and fall asleep tucked up against him.

The next morning Aziraphale is a little sore, but in a very good mood indeed.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 5

5. Body Worship (Mouth), Fish People, Face-Sitting/Face-Fucking

Crowley really does have the most delicious little mouth.

When he’s not rambling, that is. God, that demon can talk for England. He thinks he’s so smart, so pithy, so witty. And he is, but if you tell him that he’ll get all smug just to annoy you. So you have to make sure his mouth is being used properly.

Usually, it will be when he’s whispering a stream of filth to either you or Aziraphale. “That’s it, aren’t you gorgeous on your back?” or “Look at the mess you’ve left on my cock, darling,” or “you can come one more time, and I’m not letting you move until you do.”

You and Aziraphale want to show him how much you appreciate it. So you set up a little evening of praise.

Firstly, you sat him between you, trading off kisses between you both lazily and languidly. Eventually Crowley’s mouth tastes like a spit-slick cocktail of both of you, lips puffy from overuse and saliva dripping down his chin.

Then, when he was desperately hard and needy from that, he was manoeuvred into Aziraphale’s lap so he could have his neck worshipped with nips and licks until he’s red raw. Meanwhile you sit between his long legs, your makeup bag perched next to you, carefully swiping the brightest shade of red lipstick you can across him. You take your time, lining his Cupid’s bow in crimson, painting his tubercles the colour of passion.

“Pop your lips for me?”

He does, pouting a little, but making sure it’s perfectly applied. 

“Gorgeous,” you hum. If you were making him up properly you’d get him to blot it, but you want this to make a mess.

The dildo gag is a good eight inches, and if lifetimes of fucking him have taught you anything he can definitely take it. You slip it out of the side drawer, press a kiss to its head, and grin. 

“Open wide, Crowley.”

Aziraphale’s eyes are blown dark with lust as you press the gag to Crowley’s tongue and begin to move it in further. Like the diligent, obedient little thing he is, Crowley takes it inch by inch. 

By five inches he begins to drool. By six inches, it began to hit the back of his throat properly. By seven spit is dripping from the sides of his mouth, down onto his chest in a beautifully filthy manner. It takes the lipstick with it, leaving trails of red in their wake. A massacre of decency. 

When he takes it fully he leaves a scarlet ring around the base. His eyes are watering, tears and saliva dripping down him in equal measure. You rub his neck and feel the bulk of the gag there, padding his oesophagus. 

“Good boy.”

He moans even though his throat is full. 

“Let that lovely mouth take a break tonight. We’ll take care of you.”

And you do. 

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 1

1. Sex Toys/Strap-on, Mutual Masturbation, Muscle

It can be fun to make them frustrated. 

If you set limits they usually listen: no touching each other, no looking away, no coming until I say that you’re allowed to. They know the final release will be even sweeter if they’re good. You’re the only one with the fortitude to actually enforce it, and they’re loath to let you down, so they obey. 

But they’ve been needy recently. When you’re immortal time can seem very short, so when you enforced a month of chastity at first they seemed intrigued by the idea. However by the end of the first week they were needy, and at the end of the second they were desperate. Begging for your permission, which was only granted after a great length. 

Not in the way they expected though. 

You’re spread out on the bed, legs akimbo; Aziraphale is on the bedroom chair with his trousers around his ankles; and Crowley is simply leaning up against the doorframe. Then sounds filling the room are the soft slap of skin on skin, the heavy breathing of concentration. 

Your angel has his hand around his cock, working it rhythmically, running his thumb over the head. Your devil has the fingers of one hand buried in his cunt, the other working his clit with such force you’re sure he will be sore tomorrow. You match their pace evenly, working between your legs with glee, their performance taking your lust to new heights. Your own personal pornography. 

“That’s it,” Aziraphale breathes. His eyes flit between the two of you. He wants to see who can take more fingers, and irritatingly Crowley always wins that one. He has four inside himself, crooking to hit his own g-spot. He’s collapsed against the door in order to try and keep himself propped up, slick with sweat and cum.

“Oh, Crowley, you’re lovely,” you whisper. He manages a grin and fuck himself harder.

“That’s it darling,” Aziraphale encourages, squeezing his sac with his free hand and speeding up his pmovements. Crowley moans.

“I’m going to —”

“Yes,” is the simultaneous response, and the three of you come at the same time, endorphins flooding you and making you hazy. Aziraphale cums in pearls jets over his hand, Crowley’s fingers damp as he squirts.

You collapse into the pillows. 

“There,” you manage, “will that tide you over?”

From the hungry look in their eyes you can guess that the answer is no. 

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee

@fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran

(people at the bottom of this list I'm not sure it's letting me tag you properly - can you please make sure you are searcable on tumblr? I reblogged a post about this earlier)

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 3

3. Rimming, Fingering/Handjob, Dry Humping

It’s 1660, and you’re just now learning that Aziraphale has the most sensitive arsehole this side of the Thames.

This is thrilling news. Since you found Crowley and Aziraphale again last year, the three of you have barely spent any time out of bed. You’re learning how to fuck each other. Properly fuck each other. Not that you didn’t know in the first place, but it really is wonderful finding out what makes them tick, what cheeky caress has them gagging for more. 

When you laid with the angel for the first time, all those hundreds of years ago by the riverbank, your lovemaking had been a surprisingly chaste thing. Lots of looking into each other’s eyes and sighing wistfully. And that was very nice, and you enjoy repeating it, but it’s fun to find out that he’s a kinky bastard too.

Run a finger over his hole and he moans. Press it inside and he gasps. Fuck him there and he’s absolutely gone, reduced to a quivering mess who can only hold onto the blankets and beg.

At the moment the three of you are, once again, in bed. You have a townhouse in London that you’ve all moved into and have fucked on every available surface in every available room, but the large, downy mattress is the most comfortable place so that’s where you usually end up. Aziraphale has his head in Crowley’s lap, mouth suctioned around his lover’s cock. Bent over like that he has himself presented perfectly for you and you’re taking advantage of it, spreading his cheeks and teasing him unforgivingly.

You can just about make out the ohh Aziraphale whines around Crowley’s dick when your tongue darts out to trace him. His hole quivers under you, needily begging for more when his mouth can’t. You grin over his pale arched back at Crowley. The demon smiles and wraps a lock of Aziraphale’s hair around his finger.

“Needy little angel,” Crowley sighs, lovingly, gently working Aziraphale’s mouth up and down his shaft. You can see from here the amount of saliva dripping down onto his sac, soaking into the bedsheet. Aziraphale is very attentive when it comes to giving oral, and it’s high time someone repaid the favour.

You get to work. You press your tongue inside him, hard, not giving him any time to brace. He moans and goes to collapse into Crowley, but your lover holds him up. You sink your fingers into his plush hips as you fuck him with your mouth.

“Ohhh, I’m–” Aziraphale whimpers, and you pause.

“If you stop, I stop, darling.”

Aziraphale takes the hint and gets back to swallowing Crowley’s cock down his throat, but more feebly, like it’s taking a great deal of effort. You take that as a sign that you’re doing well. You pull back and spit onto him, watching it drip down into his arse. Then, with no warning, you shove two fingers inside him. You know well by now that your otherworldly lovers don’t need preparation like your human body does, so when Aziraphale moans as you crook inside him, you know it's in nothing but pleasure.

“Come on, Aziraphale,” you whisper huskily. Aziraphale releases in hot spurts all over the bed, collapsing as Crowley cums into his mouth. The angel takes a moment to swallow before looking up at you, eyes wide and adoring and exhausted.

“That was… you’re…”

“Up for round two?” you ask with a grin, running a finger along the cleft of his arse. He moans like he’s being paid for it, and you take it as a yes.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 12

12. Orgasm Denial/Control, Lingerie, Role Reversal

Aziraphale is making his way down the highstreet, utterly at ease with the world and replete from a large lunch, when he catches sight of the bra and panty set.

He stops dead. Backtracks a little. Makes sure nobody’s watching him, then looks properly.

They are splendid. A gentle cream colour, all lace and frills, a matching set of stockings as well. And the perfect size to fit his lucious hips.

He can think of a couple of people who might really like this.

Aziraphale waits until a bus passes to block him from prying eyes and shifts his corporeal form. When the number 5 has gone, she settles her slightly longer hair in place around her heart-shaped face, and heads inside the store.

“How long are we meant to stand out here, angel?” Crowley groans, tapping his fingers impatiently on the doorknob.

“All good things come to those who wait!” your wife chirps back from inside the bedroom. You fix Crowley with A Look.

“And all those things who are good, cum,” you say. He snorts.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I am, and you love me.”

“I do.”

“Alright, you can come in now!” Aziraphale calls. Crowley sighs in relief and finally throws open the door.

He freezes in the doorway, and so do you.

When Aziraphale wants to make something romantic, she goes the whole nine yards. Candles have been set up around the bedroom, rose petals scattered on the floor leading up to the bed - and there she is, perched in all her glory.

God, she is beautiful.

Her breasts are barely held in place by the lacy brassiere she has on, threatening to spill over lewdly. Her buxom hips are only made more ravishing by the tiny scrap of lace between her legs, accentuating her delicious curves and rolls. Her thighs look practically edible in her stockings. They pinch her just below her sex, a silken garterbelt holding them in place.

“Gah,” says Crowley.

“Ungh,” you say.

“What do you think?” she asks, decorously, making a show of batting her eyelids. She’s even done her makeup, her cheeks a pretty pink and lips painted to match.

“Aziraphale, you’re… you look…” 

“Angelic,” you finish, when your husband is unable to find the right words. Crowley can only nod. She giggles and claps her hands together in glee.

“Oh, I’m so glad. I wasn’t sure, I thought it was a bit much, but now I see you –”

She doesn’t get a chance to get any further because the two of you descend. You capture her lips in a kiss, framing her soft, lovely face in both hands; Crowley begins to rain kisses along her tits. She squeaks and then begins to laugh.

“Slow down! Gosh, you’re insatiable…!”

You don’t slow down. No matter how much fun Aziraphale had putting the lingerie on, you think you’re going to have far more fun removing it.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 14

14. Uniform, Suspension Bondage, Abduction/Kidnapping

It’s 2008 and your boys are about to go and try to halt the apocalypse by helping raise a baby. To you it all seems a bit convoluted, but you long since learned to stop asking questions about your lovers’ little projects. 

Doesn’t mean you can’t have a bit of fun, though.

You tell your boys to come over to your house for dinner tonight. Dinner very rarely means just dinner (even though the promise of food is an easy lure for Aziraphale) so you’re not surprised when they say yes and hear the key go in the lock that night.

“Nightingale? Where are you?” Crowley calls, and you grin to yourself.

“In the dining room, love.”

Your lovers walk through and pause when they catch sight of the scene.

You’ve set up the dining table with two places. Candlelit. Got the fancy plates out. The good wine, the nice silverware.

And you’re wearing a maid’s uniform.

And it is a uniform, not just an ‘outfit’, from the amount you bloody paid for it. It hugs your every curve and leaves very little to the imagination with its frills and silk. The neckline is cut deep and shows far too much of your chest to be decent. You have a little collar tied with a bow around your neck to give the illusion of your being a present they’ll get to unwrap later.

“Oh,” says Aziraphale, eyes hungry for more than just the duck pâté you’ve laid out.

“Hello, sirs. Please sit down. I’ve got the whole evening planned.”

Your lovers exchange a look, and then do as they’re bid. You make a show of taking their serviettes and placing them carefully across their laps, making sure to grab a decent handful of thigh as you go.

And so you play the scene.

You ate earlier, assuming you’d probably need the energy at some point later tonight. That means that you can take your time with it, too. Serve them slowly, course by course. Crowley doesn’t really eat but he’s so swept up with it that he finds himself clearing his plate every time there’s something placed in front of him. You pour their wine whenever they get to the bottom of their glass, simpering and giggling bashfully. At one point you make a show of knocking a spoon to the floor and reaching over to pick it up - revealing that not only are you not wearing underwear, but there’s a pretty little jewelled plug in your hole too.

“Oh my,” Aziraphale chokes, and you hear Crowley grip his wineglass so hard it shatters. When you turn around to check he’s miracled up the mess and is pretending nothing has happened.

Dessert is Eton Mess. It’s one of Aziraphale’s favourites. Well, that’s easy. All desserts are his favourite. But when they’ve finished their bowls and you turn to grab another bottle of merlot from your wine rack, you hear the sound of crockery being swept to the floor, and a hand closes around your wrist. With a gleeful giggle you’re pinned onto the bare dining table.

Your lovers stare down at you.

“Someone’s feeling particularly teasing tonight,” Aziraphale manages, his free hand reaching to undo his bowtie. You smile faux-bashfully.

“Just thought that it might be a while before I saw the two of you again. Wanted to make it special.”

“Oh,” Crowley laughs, huskily, fingers reaching under the skirts to stroke your plug and make you gasp, “I think you did that just perfectly.”

Turns out the real dessert was you.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 13

13. Wrist/Arm Restraints, Triple Penetration, Pet Play

notes: reader referred to as having a 'cock', but could be real or a strap. left intentionally vague.

“There we are, love.”

“Aaaaaaah fu-uu-uu-ck,” Crowley groans. His arsehole is already stuffed full of Aziraphale’s cock, and as you inch deeper into his cunt, you know that the stretch he feels must be delicious. You get down to the base inside him and roll your hips a little to get him to squeak. Aziraphale is laid out under him, his soft body a plush pillow for Crowley’s angular one as he fills him. Your angelic lover smiles and runs his fingers through Crowley’s hair.  

“Crowley, aren’t you lovely?” he whispers into your husband’s ear. Crowley moans and keens against your cocks. 

“Do you think you can take one more?” you hum. You pick up the dildo from its place on the bedside table and run the head from Crowley’s navel down to his mons. His eyes go wide and desperate, and he nods with enthusiasm. 

“Which hole, darling?”

“Unf… ahh, pussy, please,” he manages through gritted teeth. Grabbing the nearby bottle you slowly soak the silicone in lube before rearranging yourself to give its head better access to Crowley.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

You angle it the best you can, finding a way to inch it inside of him next to your own length. Crowley whines as he’s stretched out but takes it like a champ. Soon he’s filled entirely with three cocks, all attempting to make room inside him. 

“Please…”

“Yes darling?”

“Please move,” he chokes. In tandem, you and Aziraphale begin to fuck him - Aziraphale in his tight hole which quickly loosens under his work, you controlling both the dicks in his pretty little cunt. Crowley thrashes for a moment and then becomes pliant and boneless in your arms. His mouth opens, a little ravine of needy drool runs down the side of his face from a wet pink tongue. When he’s all fucked out and had an orgasm from each of you you’ll slow down, wrap him in a blanket, bring him a hot drink. But for now you want to see how far he’ll go. 

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 6

6. Leash and Collar, Medical Torture, Sacrifice

It’s 1793, and you’re losing your mind.

“Pancakes, Aziraphale?!”

“Well, crêpes.”

“That’s not…” you groan and press the balls of your hands into your eyes. Gosh, he can be so frustrating sometimes. One day he’s going to get in trouble and Crowey won’t be there, and god knows you can’t do anything. You’re just a human! Honestly the angel doesn’t seem certain as to what he’s done wrong, looking somewhat like a labrador puppy who can’t understand why it’s being scolded.

“But darling –”

“No ‘but’s, Aziraphale.”

He might as well whine like a puppy, too. He looks like a kicked one.

So you take matters into your own hands.

You slip out one morning under the guise of errands to be run. You’re well enough known in your corner of the city that you’re left alone by the general public; to interrupt you would risk the wrath of you or one of your strange partners.

That suits you just fine. Especially today.

The leatherworker looks at your request with a cocked eyebrow, observing you over the top of the paper.

“You must have a large dog if you need this custom-made.”

“I do,” is your only answer, and with a sigh the man gets to work. It takes the day for the project to be finished, and by the time you return home, it’s evening.

Aziraphale is reading by the fire. He looks up when your shadow falls over him.

“Hello darling, are you –”

“Up.”

The tone of your voice suggests that this is not so much a request as an order. Aziraphale immediately stumbles to his feet, book left on the side table.

You pull out your newest purchase and he swallows.

“I don’t think…”

“Did I ask you to talk?”

He dutifully shuts his mouth. You take off his cravat, undo the buttons of his shirt. His beautiful neck is bared to you. It looks deliciously biteable but that’s not quite the punishment you have in mind for tonight.

The collar sits snugly around his throat. You tighten it until there is no slack left and then hook the leash into its ring. You stand back to admire the picture, keeping the end of it in one hand. The leatherworker really did an excellent job.

“If you’re going to run off every time we take our eyes off you, then we have no choice but to make sure you stay in place, do we?”

Aziraphale swallows. His cheeks are bright red and you can see how he’s straining in his breeches. It’s downright devilish.

Speaking of.

“Crowley, come and look at this.”

Crowley pops up like he was waiting to be called, but stumbles when he sees what he’s been presented with. 

“Oh,” he manages. “This is a welcome surprise, nightingale.”

“Mm. Maybe he’ll finally behave himself.”

You give a little tug on the leash, and Aziraphale stumbles forward. He lets out the filthiest little moan that you’ve ever heard.

“Or maybe not.”

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 10

10. Anal Sex. Kissing, Crying

When Aziraphale and Crowley kiss, you can feel the love behind it. Two people who’ve known each other for almost as long as time itself, and have only recently explored the romantic side of their relationship. You were the catalyst for that love and you’re ever so glad for it - to have both of them is a very wonderful thing indeed. Their lips look like they’re meant to be together, Aziraphale’s plush body fitting perfectly against Crowley’s sharp angles, two beautiful pieces meant to be as one. 

When Aziraphale kisses you, it’s soft and sweet. You can feel him hum into it with pleasure, tip his head so that his sweet little upturned nose doesn’t nudge yours. His hands settle on your waist and yours on his broad shoulders, revelling in the soft warmth of him. A tease of tongue, a hint of teeth, just enough to be sinful.

When Crowley kisses you there’s a desperation to it. As if he’s worried something will come and snatch you from his grasp. He’ll press his hips against yours, cup your face in his long fingers so he can stroke your cheeks while he meets your lips. They’re parted immediately, your tongues entwining slowly and deeply, and he groans in the back of his throat.

And when you all kiss, trading lips, gentle bites, caresses? When you all press up together, hands exploring and worshipping, the relaxed roll of bodies that know each other so intimately and yet can’t get enough of each other?

Oh, it’s heaven.

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[avocado-writing]

using this amazing list from @absurdthirst!

Sex Toys/Strap-on, Mutual Masturbation, Muscle

Frottage, Sexual Frustration, Virginity

Rimming, Fingering/Handjob, Dry Humping

Overstimulation, Oviposition/Egglaying, Human Urinal

Body Worship (Mouth), Fish People, Face-Sitting/Face-Fucking

Leash and Collar, Medical Torture, Sacrifice

Anonymous Sex, Nonconsensual, Somnophilia

Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die, Chastity, Sexual Competition

Slutwear, Squirting/Cumshots, Prostitution/Camming/Sex-for-Service

Anal Sex, Kissing, Crying

Body Hair/Shaving, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Teasing

Orgasm Denial/Control, Lingerie, Role Reversal

Wrist/Arm Restraints, Triple Penetration, Pet Play

Uniform, Suspension Bondage, Abduction/Kidnapping

Boot Worship, Spanking/Flogging/Whipping/Caning, Lactation/Breastfeeding

Speech/Movement Restriction, Body Worship (Genitals), Vampires/Werewolves

Dirty Talking, Pussy Eating/Blowjob, Breath Control

Sensory Deprivation Gags, Service Top/Power Bottom, Bloodplay

Biting/Scratching, Piercings/Tattoos, Marking

Uniform, Titjob, Thighfucking

Anonymous Sex, Hair Pulling, Masturbation

True Monsters, Spiritual Possession, Sexual Exhaustion

Breeding/Impregnation, Fancy Dress, Frottage

Bratty Sub, Anal/Oral Training, Caging

Leather/Rubber/Latex, Daddy/Mommy Dom, Guns/Knives

Tentacles, Demons/Angels, Crying

Wax Play, Glory Hole, Group Sex

Cuckolding, Aphrodisiacs, Temperature Play

Genital Pumping, Coercion/Blackmail, Pregnancy

Double Penetration, Hotdogging, Gape/Fisting

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