(Formerly mel-writes-and-recs) Ask box & requests: opened and free Ko-fi (please consider supporting!) / Ao3 / FFnet / Main blog Blog title from Firefly Fandoms: Torchwood (Janto, Towen), Good Omens, Friends (Mondler), Dragon Age, MCU... Feel free to drop a message if you're interested in translating, or doing some art inspired by my fics, or anything else :) (Tags: #mel writes or #fafsernir / #mel recs / #mel headcanons / #mel talks / #mel answers)
What themes would you like to write about that you feel don’t get explored very often?
What are some common elements of stories you are tired of seeing? What would you avoid writing about?
What loves do you tend to write about? Agape (unconditional, spiritual love), Eros (romantic, passionate love), Philia (affectionate, platonic love), Philautia (self-love), Storge (familial love), Pragma (enduring love like between long-married couples), Ludus (playful love, infatuation you feel during the “honeymoon period”), and Mania (obsessive love that leads to madness and jealousy)
In your works, is blood thicker than water or is the blood of the covenant thicker than the water of the womb? (Are familial ties or friendship ties more important?)
Would you rather write a happy ending that soothes the soul or a tragic ending that hurts the heart?
What point of view do you tend to write in? Do all of your pieces use the same POV? Do you have strong opinions on the POV used in novels?
Favorite description in your wip? (If asked more than once, respond with a new piece each time)
Favorite dialogue in your wip? (If asked more than once, respond with a new piece each time)
What scene was the hardest to write for you and why?
What scene was the most fun to write for you and why?
Set the scene for us. What are your settings like and do you have any pictures saved that represent them? Do your characters travel and see more than one? What are their names?
What is the fashion like in your wip? Do you have any pictures saved of outfits your characters would wear?
What traits do you share with your original characters or what traits do you wish you shared with them?
If you’ve written more than one story, what traits do your protagonists tend to share?
Why physical quirks do your characters tend to have? Eyebrow raising, picking nails, biting lips, pacing, crossing arms, etc.
What motives do you give your original characters? What drives them? How much tragedy did you subject them to?
Are your protagonists always the “good guys” and your antagonists always the “bad guys” or do you like to do anti-heroes and grey morality?
What writers have inspired you with their use of language? What are some of your favorite quotes?
“For fans of ______!” What works would you say are similar to yours?
If you were published and had complete control over your covers, what would it look like? Do you have any specific artists that you’d like to illustrate it? Do you like when characters are pictured on covers or do you prefer inanimate objects?
How do you come up with titles? Do you use placeholders or tend to change your titles while writing the first draft?
How do you come up with character names? Do the names have a special meaning? If so, what are they?
Do your prefer reading series or standalone novels and does that reflect on how you write?
Do you let your story evolve as you write or do you meticulously plan everything prior to writing the first draft?
Do you start your novels with dialogue or description? Do you end your novels with dialogue or description?
What do you feel like you need to work on as a growing writer? How can you improve?
Do you have playlists for your wip? What are some of the songs in it?
Do you need background noise to write? If so, what do you listen to?
How do you share your writing? Do you use any writing websites and, if so, share your profiles!
What is some of the best writing advice you’ve read or received? Why does it work for you?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
As we all think about that bomb that was dropped on us with the latest episode, I’ll just discreetly post a Campaign 1 fic as I am finally binge-watching Campaign 1 of Critical Role.
A small analysis of Vax and his doubts and general sadness set during Episode 44: The Sunken Tomb, as Vex dies and he’s not even here to try and protect her (and then comes back). Just some stealth twins fic because I love them and relate to Vax way too much.
1085 words of Vax losing a part of himself and trying to process what happened, basically.
Very excited to share these pieces I drew for @penumbrabang this year!! They go with the amazing fic Feeling Right, by Fafsernir on AO3 - go give it a read!! :D
Title: Toliman
Word Count: 21 715
Archive Warnings: no archive warnings apply
Ratings: Explicit
Pairings: Crowley/Aziraphale
Characters: Crowley, Aziraphale, The Them, Anathema Device, Gabriel, Original Characters
Tags: Alternate Universe - Circus, (Kinda), actual snake, First Time, Fluff, Getting Together
Summary: Aziraphale was trying to find what resonated with him in life. He hadn't expect it to be someone. Working at a circus was hard, but meeting new people – meeting Crowley – was all worth it. It was as if he had found what he had been seeking for so long.
Artists and art: cassieoh (digital art) to find here and here and throughout the fic; restlesslikeme / @unfinishedduet (playlist and moodboard)
Ooohhh, those kiss prompts sound nice! (yes hello how are you it's been a while (hahaha I'm very funny)) sooooo, I'd say, Ineffable Husbands (duh), aaaaand... 17 or 41? :D k byyyyye
Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss: 17. … to distract
Thank you for the ask ;D Hope you enjoy!
Aziraphale was reading peacefully, quietly. In silence. In total and perfect silence. Well, he had been reading in total and perfect silence, up until a few minutes ago, when Crowley had started a very long chain of loud signs. His phone had turned into a boring distraction, apparently, and his next activity was to bother Aziraphale. He did not purposefully did it, but Aziraphale knew he needed attention in some moments.
The thing was, the book was extremely interesting, as books usually are, and the angel did not want to cave in as easily as he had done on multiple separate occurrences.
When the serpent started moving, slithering on his laps to get his attention, sneaking an arm around him to get closer to him, standing to read his book behind his shoulder, Aziraphale sighed too. He wanted nothing more than to shove this evil fiend off and read in peace. He did not actually want Crowley to go away, but sometimes he wanted to read a book on his own terms. Crowley was… well, he was a dramatic, needy demon, and he needed to be dealt with, to have some quiet back.
Aziraphale did the next best thing he thought would work. Crowley was still bending over the sofa to get a closer look at the pages without even reading them, his head close to Aziraphale’s shoulders. He really only had to turn his head to the side, and the deed would be done.
So he did.
He turned his head, pecked Crowley’s cheek, so close to his lips that he could taste the red wine they had been drinking, and went back to reading, as if nothing had ever happened.
Crowley’s words caught in his throat in a muffled, choking noise, and his head dropped against Aziraphale’s shoulders. His inability to see the other’s face allowed him to smile smugly and widely. He would have laughed evilly if he knew it could not possibly hurt Crowley’s ego, but he could not be sure of that. So he settled for a reassuring pat on the back of his head as Crowley expressed his embarrassment in different complaining noises.
Of course, it didn’t work for a long time, but Aziraphale was able to reach the end of his chapter by the time Crowley recovered from his once-again dramatic reaction.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Written for the GO Holiday swap and @wyvernquill ‘s prompt:
"Ineffable Husbands, priest (human) AU - Father Aziraphale is staging a nativity play in Tadfield with the local community. If only entrepreneur A. J. Crowley wasn't trying to get the church demolished for an extension of the M25 to be built straight through Tadfield..."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Written for jekkiefan (on Ao3, I don’t know their tumblr handle) for the 2019 GOmens Holiday Swap, with their prompts:
"Ineffable husband cuddly softness (like wing preening and/or touch starved type stuff be my jam). Wings/true angelic forms/snake Crowley type of things are great. Anything where one or both of them are ace (can be flat out mentioned, subtle, or anywhere in-between). Also anything with Ashtoreth and Francis during their time with Warlock is fun too."
Ao3 / Ko-fi pages @ Fafsernir, or links on my tumblr page :)
Please watch the beautiful Freddie Mercury song (and especially the video) first.
Crowley/Aziraphale, hurt/comfort, fluff, Crowley watches the video clip for Love me like there’s no tomorrow, 1020 words
Crowley tried to fight back the emotions, but the first piano note was enough for him to tear up. Why now? He knew why, of course, the date had never changed. But still, how and why was it released now?
Crowley tried not to think, he tried to only watch. He tried to focus on the voice, on the music, on the video. His mind couldn’t help but think of Aziraphale, of hands they had extended to the other, of slow dances they had shared, of hugs they had exchanged, of Heaven coming between them, in the form of Gabriel or in the form of doubts creeping inside Aziraphale’s mind. It wasn’t because it was over that Crowley never thought about it.
He thought about love, about his love for Aziraphale, about Aziraphale’s love for him.
He also thought about the young man he had seen, so many years ago. He remembered the passion he had felt, the talent he had heard. He remembered how the lyrics had always resonated with him. How he had discovered Killer Queen and had thought the song perfect, how he had listened to You’re my best friend and felt it pierce through his heart, how he had heard Love of my life hand it had shattered his heart a little more. He also remembered smiling at the Bentley the first time she had put on I’m in love with my car. Everything had echoed deep inside him, especially because of when he had encountered the music.
It had followed Aziraphale’s “You go too fast for me” and Crowley had never heard anything or anyone who could put words on his life better than Queen. They had always had the right words, for some reason.
Crowley remembered meeting Freddie Mercury. He had never tempted him to anything, he hadn’t wanted to. He had simply spoken to him, just to see. To know, to understand that man who seemed to be living inside Crowley’s head, at times. He had always just been another broken soul in this cruel world.
Crowley remembered crying the first time he had heard some songs, he remembered crying after that cursed 24th of November. And decades later, he was listening to this beautiful song, thinking about Aziraphale and how they had averted the apocalypse, but also how they had almost died and how Crowley had almost lost him, how he had felt like losing him. He was thinking about the young man, too passionate at times, probably too careless for his own good, at least for his own time.
He smiled, but he also cried, letting the tears flow, letting them blur his sight, letting them drop on the phone he was squeezing between his hands as he sniffed.
He gasped when arms appeared on his waist, around him, trapping him in a light embrace as the music faded away. He let his phone drop on the ground when the screen went black, not sure of what to do, of what to say.
“I mean it,” Aziraphale whispered, echoing the song.
Hold me in your arms, tell me you mean it.
There was emotion in his voice, and Crowley barely held back a sob, clenching his hands on Aziraphale’s covered arms.
Aziraphale moved a bit, half-circling around Crowley. Crowley met him halfway, half-turning towards him, and his head instantly found the comfort of his angel’s warm body. He rested his forehead against Aziraphale’s shoulder and tried not to feel ashamed at how much the video had just hit close to home, how much the video had reached inside Crowley’s chest and ripped his heart.
He sobbed against Aziraphale’s shoulder, his hands clasping the shirt at the back, and maybe Aziraphale’s skin as well.
He stayed a long time in his arms, letting the sorrow wash over him, letting the tears flow, letting the memories play back in his mind.
He felt Aziraphale cry, more than he heard him. He felt a bit less self-conscious about his own tears, as Aziraphale kissed his hair and reassuringly rubbed his back. Crowley stopped crying after a while, he stopped thinking about AIDS and the bloody years when he had seen so many die in such an unfair way. He had cried to God, had asked her more questions – why them, why now, why not help them, why, always why, still why. It had always been about understanding. Just like he had wanted to understand Freddie Mercury.
He knew Aziraphale had been affected by it too. They had never talked about it, but they both knew. They had never enjoyed unfair deaths, they had never liked that they were so powerless.
Aziraphale cupped his face and forced him to leave the warmth of his shoulder. Their eyes met naturally, and Crowley had to look away, too overwhelmed by the emotions and vulnerability in Aziraphale’s eyes. He put his hand over Aziraphale’s hand, and closed his eyes, leaning against their joined hands. Aziraphale’s free fingers ran in his hair, slowly, gently. It stopped at the back of his head and Aziraphale tugged lightly, bringing Crowley’s head down a bit to kiss his forehead, then his cheek, then his lips. They were the lightest kisses possible, lighter than a feather’s weight on his skin and lips – and Crowley would know.
He turned his head slightly, kissing Aziraphale’s palm, much like the animated character of the video.
“I love you,” Crowley whispered against the hand.
He needed to say it, to express it again. He needed Aziraphale to know it, to be sure of it, to understand how true that statement was. He showed him his love so much, but they didn’t say it very often. The concept was human, but it still made his heart drop in his stomach whenever he heard Aziraphale say it, so he tried to say it, too. Because it was true, and because it always felt reassuring to hear the words.
“I love you too, my dear,” Aziraphale said.
They kissed in silence, softly, calmly. With a love so appeasing that it chased Crowley’s thoughts away.
(Formerly mel-writes-and-recs) Ask box: opened :) Requests: opened & free, through ask box or...
Here are all my participations for the @ineffablehusbandsweek prompts (SFW & NSFW)
14 days (yes, I started on the first day because I found out late); 14 fics, a little over 17 000 words, a lot of hours spent on it... But I did it! It was... tiring, but I feel glad and relieved now. And the second week helped me get better and more comfortable with writing nsfw, so that’s positive! And It was productive.
So, thanks to them for organizing this, and thanks to anyone who’s read my fics!
Written for @ineffablehusbandsweek ‘s (nsfw week) Day 7: “hedonism / body worship / kinks “
Ao3 / Ko-fi pages @ Fafsernir, or links on my tumblr page :)
I DID IT!!!! The whole two weeks! Yay!!
Crowley/Aziraphale, she/her for Crowley (bot!Crowley, top!Aziraphale), multiple orgasms, 2814 words
!! nsfw under the cut !!
They didn’t always need to talk – six thousand years did that to you – but communication was still something important to them. They voiced their thoughts, more freely than before. They voiced their desires. They never hesitated to share what they had been thinking about on this topic. They even were eager to do so.
Consuming sex was a new side of their relationship. It didn’t define them, but after centuries of lusting in secret over the other, of wondering if their human bodies would take as much pleasure as humans did with each other – it hadn’t been a real question, if they could pleasure themselves, if they could take pleasure with others, it wasn’t a surprise that having sex together felt so amazing.
They knew the other’s body, they discovered new sensitive spots and new sensations every so often, and it was exciting to have all these new ways to discover the other, to explore all their desires and test them out.
So when the thought came to Aziraphale’s mind, he welcomed it, let his mind process it, transformed it into an idea, and voiced it. Quickly, between two kisses. Not because he was ashamed of it, but because he suddenly was eager to try it, to tell Crowley about it.
“Can I kiss you?”
The idea was more than this, but it was hard to talk against a mouth.
Crowley chuckled, the sound echoing in the very still bedroom. “We’ve been doing that already, angel.”
She had let her hair grow back, and Aziraphale looked at the hair following the shake of her head, mesmerized by it.
“I know,” he said, holding her away with his hand on her shoulder so she wouldn’t kiss and distract him again. “I want to show you I love you,” he asserted, looking her deep in her beautiful golden eyes.
Her very characteristic “Ngk,” escaped her lips at Aziraphale’s words.
He smiled, cupping her face with his other hand, and pushing her against the mattress. “I want you to understand how I feel when I see you,” he continued, kissing her cheek. “I want to kiss you everywhere, and start all over again,” he whispered in her ear. “I want to look at you as you come, over and over again,” he finished against her neck.
“Yes, yes,” Crowley nodded, clenching Aziraphale’s shirt in her hands.
He leaned on his arm, holding himself above Crowley as he looked at her. She was pressing her legs together in anticipation, was holding Aziraphale’s arm tightly, her stomach and breasts rose and fell as she breathed unevenly, she bit her bottom lip when Aziraphale’s eyes stopped on her mouth, and she smiled when their eyes met. Her hair looked like a waterfall around her pale head, and Aziraphale ran his free hand through it, then massaged her scalp. She sighed, closing her eyes.
He kissed her forehead as he continued massaging her with one hand, then her eyebrows and eyelids. He moved on to her temples, applying more pressure with his lips. He kissed down her left cheek to her chin, and up her right cheek, then kissed the bridge of her nose, and the tip. Finally, he let his lips drop to hers, leaving only a peck before he moved away, admiring her face.
“Perfect,” he whispered, more to himself than to Crowley.
He watched as her eyes looked away, as her cheeks slightly coloured after his compliment, as her lips formed a small smile and as an ‘oh shush’ hung at her lips. He kissed the words away.
“Only the truth,” he told her.
He took his time to kiss her, ignoring how her body writhed under his, trying to find some friction Aziraphale refused to give for now. He kissed her neck, nibbled at the sensitive spots that made her moan and trapped an earlobe between his teeth, pulling and only slightly biting, then licking the spot. Crowley was getting impatient, her hand trailing down Aziraphale’s chest, to his crotch. She let out a grumble of frustration when she only found a flat surface.
“Not fair,” she complained, still caressing the skin through the pants.
Aziraphale chuckled. “It’s about you. Only you.”
“What if I want you to fuck me?” she asked, raising a curious eyebrow.
He closed his eyes at the thought, and rubbed himself against her hand despite himself, kissing her mouth to have some time to think.
“We’ll get to that later,” he finally answered after a passionate kiss that left her longing for more, her whole body moving towards him, inviting him.
He took her hand away, and found her other, pulling them above her head.
“Now, stop moving or I’ll have to find a way to restrain you,” he purred against her ear, and she hissed deliciously, her forked tongue uncontrollably slipping out of her closed mouth.
Aziraphale smiled and still held her with one hand, the other trailing down her body, all the way to her thigh. He was glad she had decided to wear a dress that day. Not only did she look incredibly good in her short, dark dress, but it also gave him easier access.
He scraped the skin he found under the hem of the dress, and caressed his way up, only with his index finger, applying almost no pressure. When he felt no underwear meeting his fingers, he suddenly grabbed her thigh to push her legs open and slid down her body, not breaking eye contact. She leaned on her elbows to stare at him the whole time, following his eyes, forgetting his fingers.
When he had captivated her long enough with his eyes, he drew his fingers nearer to her vagina, and looked down only a second, unable to resist the temptation of looking at what he was eager to taste under his tongue. Crowley pursed her lips when he looked back up at her eyes, and he smiled, running his thumb over her labia, parting it to tease at her opening, spreading her wetness everywhere he touched her. She was ready for him, so ready. As if she had heard him, her hips jerked and she tried to push against his thumb. He reaffirmed his grip on her thigh, trying to prevent her from moving.
He had given up on looking at her eyes. He was looking at his finger teasing her, and he was thinking about how wet she already was when he had only been kissing her so far. He licked his lips in anticipation before he brought his head closer, smelling her before he could taste her.
Aziraphale’s tongue lapped once all over her length, up to her pubic hairs, and he listened to her gasp. She was still fully dressed, her dress preventing him from looking up at her, but he felt her flop down onto the mattress with a sigh. He smiled and licked again, longer this time, tasting her. He closed his eyes, his left arm now going around her thigh, trapping her efficiently and giving him full access. He used his right hand to part her labia again to allow his tongue to tease even more.
He pushed the tip of his tongue inside her, but quickly moved it up, stopping at her clit, taking his time to lap at it. Crowley growled, pressing her vagina closer to his mouth, and he smiled, obligingly closing it around her clit.
He felt a hand encouraging him in his hair, pulling his hair but tugging his head to order him to move, to do something. And he did, he sucked her clit as he would suck her dick, he flickered it with the strong tip of his tongue, and he entered her with two fingers under his chin at some point, not even thinking about it.
She was fucking his fingers, moving her hips in harsh moves, keeping his head down forcefully with her hand, crying out shamelessly how good Aziraphale was doing. He curled his fingers inside her, licking her clit as he curled them up. He repeated it a few times before he felt her entirely relax under his fingers and mouth, and she came rather silently.
He kissed her clit when he moved away, looking up, his breathing heavy despite himself – and despite not needing it. He took in the beautiful sight Crowley was offering, her legs trying to close as a way to deal with the pleasure, her arm thrown over her head during her orgasm, her unattended and still covered breasts rising and falling quickly as she panted.
Aziraphale climbed back up the bed, kissing her wrist before he moved her arm away. He kissed her lips and growled when she pulled back slightly, only to lick his chin, cleaning him from her own mess.
“I love you,” he breathed out, pecking her lips again.
He trailed down kisses down to her shoulders as she answered him. He caught the black sleeve between his teeth and moved it as low as he could down her arm. He repeated the action on the other shoulder, revealing her small breasts. Crowley liked tight clothes, so she usually went for smaller breasts, which Aziraphale loved to play with.
He mused about pushing the dress lower, but thought against it, his mouth already kissing her left breast, already teasing at her nipple. He loved the shape of her breasts, he loved how soft the skin felt, he loved to play with them.
Aziraphale did free Crowley of the sleeves at last, but then his hands cupped her breasts and he didn’t care for the piece of clothing. He nuzzled the skin between her breasts with his nose, still able to smell her wetness.
Her breasts were almost flat when she was lying, but Aziraphale could still cup them, squeeze them. He guided a nipple toward his mouth and trapped it in his mouth, biting with his teeth and pulling, not really hurting, but playing with the line between pain and pleasure. He flickered his tongue on her nipple while it was still between his teeth, and smiled around it.
Crowley’s hands appeared at the side of his head, stroking his face as she guided him to her other nipple. Aziraphale smiled, knowing well which was more sensitive, and understanding she was ready for another orgasm. He kissed around the nipple, never resisting some more teasing.
When he finally lapped her nipple, she moaned and bucked her hips up. He was sitting with a leg folded on each side of her body, so she couldn’t move much, but he felt her cross her legs and writhed underneath him.
Aziraphale gave his full attention to her breasts, both hands cupping them, his fingers playing with the nipple he didn’t already have in his mouth. He applied pressure, bit, nibbled, licked…
He lifted his hips a bit to give Crowley more freedom as she was stimulating herself with her legs crossed.
This time, she moaned loudly when her orgasm hit, her whole body spasming under the intensity of a second orgasm washing over her.
Aziraphale didn’t waste a second, he encouraged her with strong hands to lie on her stomach, closing her eyes as she let him take full control. He kept on caressing sensitive areas of Crowley’s body, keeping her stimulated as he quickly pulled the dress down her legs and discarded it, and lifted her hips in the air. He cupped her ass and she whimpered as he ran his thumb around her entrance, then further down, to reach her vagina again. He didn’t wait too long, entering her. She was so wet, even wetter than before he had gone down on her, wetter than he had ever felt her be. But they had never gone past two orgasms in a row. He aimed to change that.
Crowley buried her hands in her hair, gripping handfuls of it as she pushed against Aziraphale’s thumb. She was trembling under his hands but she didn’t show any sign of resistance. She didn’t say the word, she didn’t flinch away. She welcomed his thumb warmly and hungrily.
He watched her hips push back against his hand, watched his thumb entirely disappear inside her, every thrust and moaned with her, almost forgetting himself. If he wanted to bring her to a third, then a fourth one, he thought better to move on quicker, so he reached around with his other hand, finding her clit instantly and moving in circles quickly. Aziraphale changed his thumb for two fingers, fucking her faster than before. He teased her other entrance with his thumb but didn’t insert it in.
His face was close and he let his teeth drag on her cheeks as he increased the pace, panting against her skin, feeling his own sweat and drool as he lost control of himself.
He felt his own body reacting, his mind going off by itself and making the effort without him having to concentrate for it. He ignored his instantly hard cock, for the time being, adding a third finger and shifting the angle a bit to bring Crowley to the edge for the third time. She cried out this time, still fucking Aziraphale’s hand, whimpering into the bedsheets, her fists tightly closed in her hair.
Aziraphale ignored the foot that almost hit him when he forcefully turned her on her back again, and he wasted no time. He snapped his fingers, his own clothes vanishing, and pushed his cock inside her.
“I’m here,” he rasped, his voice hoarse.
He paused, stroking the tears away from Crowley’s face, looking for her eyes. She finally dropped them on him, staring deep into his eyes.
“You okay?” he whispered, still not moving.
She nodded and weakly brought her hands up to his face, fingernails scraping his skin. She smiled, leaning up to his ear.
“Fuck me,” she whispered in his ear.
She brought him down to her lips. He started moving again under the kiss, pulling out almost completely before slamming in again. He knew her voice, he knew her tone. She wanted him to let go, and he was glad because he wasn’t sure he could have restrained himself much.
Their tongues met as forcefully as their hips did, both kissing passionately. Aziraphale rubbed her clit with one hand, the other clutching the sheets next to her face – and maybe a bit of her hair.
They parted, both panting, both a dishevelled mess, the embodiment of two people who have been having sex for long minutes. Crowley looked absolutely beautiful. Aziraphale wanted to tell her how much he loved her, how much he loved her body, how much he loved to run his hands all over her body, how much he loved her eyes and her voice and her long fingers and her flat stomach and her neck and that cute snake tattoo.
He leaned down automatically, pecking said-tattoo on her cheek as he remembered he hadn’t given it any attention. Crowley bucked her hips even more strongly and Aziraphale gasped when he felt her tense under him, around him. He came inside her with a last, harsh thrust, and she came with him as if she had been waiting for him.
He collapsed on her ungracefully, his muscles giving up after all the effort. They didn’t move, Crowley still whimpering once in a while as Aziraphale’s cock was still inside her. He then moved, slowly pulling away, and rolling on his back to stop crushing Crowley under his weight.
She had another plan in mind, as she turned with him, resting her head against his chest, and throwing a leg and an arm over his body. He felt how wet she still was, thought about how it was both from her and himself, and he chased the thought away as he opened his eyes again.
He put his arm around her, running his hand through her hair, kissing her forehead and smelling the particular smell of the after-sex glow. She was tracing lines on his other arm and kissing his chest absently.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to kiss me everywhere?” she said, a smile in her voice.
“I… got carried away,” he admitted.
He had wanted to worship her, to take his time, to kiss every single square of skin he could reach. Instead, his body had lusted after her so deeply and strongly that it had decided to make her orgasm more than twice.
“I’m not complaining,” she chuckled against his skin.
She stopped kissing him, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, smiling.
Aziraphale smiled too, holding her a bit more tightly against him, hugging her with both his arms. He would have another occasion to kiss her everywhere. They would have other opportunities to do pretty much anything they wanted. It was part of their relationship now.
Written for @ineffablehusbandsweek ‘s (nsfw week) Day 6: “sugar daddy / bondage / power bottom”
Ao3 / Ko-fi pages @ Fafsernir, or links on my tumblr page :)
Crowley/Aziraphale, rope bondage (top!Crowley, bot!Aziraphale), 1506 words
!! nsfw under the cut !!
Crowley snapped his fingers and watched the rope appear in his hand. Aziraphale gave an audible grunt.
It was hard to install the rope. Not because Crowley couldn’t tie it, or because Aziraphale was struggling. No, Crowley’s fingers worked fast and Aziraphale was very compliant. But both of them had already spent too much time teasing, kissing, caressing, because just the idea of ropes restraining Aziraphale had been that arousing, and now they had to get everything installed without eating each other’s faces, and more importantly, without sucking each other’s cocks. Crowley very much wanted to close his mouth around Aziraphale’s dick and fuck him with his fingers and make him come within seconds.
He fought the urge for now, tightening the rope around Aziraphale’s upper body. Aziraphale whimpered, already fighting the rope. Crowley’s long fingers closed on his jaw as Crowley licked the skin below his ear. “Don’t move,” he whispered.
Aziraphale, as the right bastard he was, pulled against the restraints and tried to turn his head. Crowley affirmed his grip on his face and pulled the rope even tighter. Aziraphale moaned, arching his back.
Crowley looked down at his cock and licked his lips absently, not resisting the need to ghost his fingers over it. Aziraphale gasped and tried to rock his hips, but Crowley shook his head and moved his hand away, finishing what he had started.
He looked at the beautiful creature in front of him when he was done, admiring his work. Aziraphale looked truly stunning. The rope was tight enough to accentuate all the features of Aziraphale’s body. It restrained his hands behind his back, too, because Crowley just couldn’t let his hands free.
“Okay?” Crowley asked in a breath.
Aziraphale nodded energetically.
Crowley would have never tried that on someone who wasn’t ethereal – not only because he would never do anything carnal with someone else than his angel – because he wasn’t sure the way they did it was safe for a human being. It was without risk for them because they believed their bodies could take it and could enjoy sex without the pain of not feeling blood running properly through their veins anymore. It was all about having faith. And Aziraphale had given Crowley his full faith.
Crowley wanted to run his mouth all over the perfect skin and flesh, and he indulged in the desire, running his tongue along Aziraphale’s arm, licking and biting skin and rope alike, listening to the different moans Aziraphale let roll off his lips. He felt every muscle which twitched under his lips as Aziraphale spasmed and tried to touch Crowley. It didn’t matter that rope was holding him back, he still longed for it, and it made Crowley grin against his skin.
He trailed kisses down his whole body, he lavished Aziraphale’s chest, he devoured his belly, he feasted on his thighs. He kissed and licked all the way down to his feet, and he went back up on the other side, with the same amount of passion and desire.
He stared at Aziraphale, a question in his eyes. Are you okay? Is it okay? Is it hurting?
Crowley obliged, kissing his chest again, playing with his nipples with his mouth, then with his fingers as his lips found their way back to Aziraphale’s thighs.
His hands moved down with him, pushing Aziraphale’s legs even further apart, inviting him to put one on his shoulder. Crowley looked up as he took Aziraphale’s cock inside his mouth. The cry it elicited from his partner turned Crowley blind and deaf for a second, then he focused back on Aziraphale who was trying to look at him as best as he could. Their eyes met as Crowley wrapped his forked tongue around Aziraphale’s shaft, then Aziraphale growled and threw his head backwards.
Crowley smiled and let go of his dick to move lower, kissing and licking and sucking his balls, and never stopping to go lower. Until he did.
He lapped at his ass, teasing, still smiling, his hands clutching Aziraphale’s thighs as he was trying to control himself. He waited a bit, until he couldn’t, before he finally slipped the tip of his tongue inside Aziraphale. By this point, Aziraphale had turned into a very vocal mess, not quietening himself the slightest but screaming and writhing under Crowley’s expert tongue.
He slowly entered his tongue, deeper and deeper. Deeper than a normal human tongue could go. One hand found its way to Aziraphale’s stomach and he grabbed the skin there, his hips rocking against the mattress and Aziraphale’s screaming intensified in pleasure.
Aziraphale would usually pull at his hair, or try to have some control on his head and his rhythm. He could only move his hips, and Crowley was somehow holding them down a bit, so he couldn’t mess with Crowley’s intentionally slow, then fast, rhythm. He could only lie back and let him torture him. Crowley felt powerful and in control. Aziraphale couldn’t move, wouldn’t move – he was too excited to do this. So the demon took his time to taste him against his tongue, to prepare him in the most delicious way.
Aziraphale had never writhed and moaned more than at that moment, trying to touch Crowley but unable to, being eaten by a very hungry demon. It felt so good.
He only kissed his way back up to his cock when he entered two slick fingers inside him, sighing, satisfied, between two light kisses on the head of the beautiful cock.
He patted Aziraphale’s belly to congratulate him for not coming, his mouth too busy to form words. He didn’t resist the temptation of sliding three fingers inside Aziraphale’s warmth and adding his tongue briefly. It was too much for Crowley and he was the one to almost come.
He quickly straightened up, aligning his dripping cock to enter Aziraphale’s ass, and he slid home slowly, carefully. Both men groaned, Crowley hiding his face against Aziraphale’s chest and against the rope.
He was finally inside him, he could feel his warmth around his cock, could feel his whole body being alive around his cock. He could feel so many sensations and it overwhelmed him for a second.
When he finally started moving, pulling almost all the way back, and slamming back inside, Aziraphale let out a particularly high-pitched scream which Crowley hadn’t heard yet. He frowned, intrigued, and looked up as he slammed back into Aziraphale again.
His face was in itself a sin. His mouth was opened, his head thrown back, his eyes opened but rolled up, all the muscles in his neck so tensed as he screamed again. His arms, tied in his back, didn’t leave him room to clench the sheet, so he just writhed against the bed as his body was trying to get more contact. Crowley knew he wouldn’t hold back long.
He increased his pace and closed one hand around his cock, the other flying to a tied arm, fingers holding onto the rope, surprising Aziraphale who suddenly came, fucking his hand with very ecstatic thrusts.
Crowley watched his angel, he observed his jaw and his muscles clenching, then relaxing, he noticed his back arching then flopping back down, he saw Aziraphale’s come shoot on his stomach messily. He slammed his cock inside Aziraphale’s sensitive body a few more times, then came too, closing his eyes as his orgasm washed over him strongly.
He saw stars and his head was spinning when he opened his eyes against, his mind high on the orgasm he had just had.
He still absently reached out for the rope when he laid down next to Aziraphale, not without kissing the knee he guided back down from his shoulder. He took the time to untie Aziraphale’s hands and arms rather than miracling the whole thing away. It didn’t feel right to do that.
Aziraphale was letting out sighs regularly, especially as Crowley kissed his skin carefully. When he finally discarded the rope in the room, he ran his long fingers on the marks which had formed on the pale skin.
“You pushed against it…” he noted aloud, his thumb caressing a particularly marked spot.
“Felt good,” Aziraphale admitted, closing his eyes.
Crowley smiled, kissing his skin fondly. He took his arm and kissed it wholly, taking his time before moving to the other, and to his chest. There was no lust in his kisses, only care and love as he kissed the marks of their love making.
Aziraphale had never minded being handled roughly, he had even asked for it at times. Like this time. Crowley always gave with pleasure, and he didn’t mind being on the receiving end either. He understood the thrill. It wasn’t as if their human body could get actually hurt by something they’d do, and they still would stop at any sign of something not feeling right. Everything felt right when it came to the other, though. Everything felt natural.
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