A month of Aziraphale/Lucifer drabbles for Kinksgiving, now complete! 31 chapters of sin, heresy, love, and smut!
Rating: E
Summary:
Aziraphale and Lucifer spend time together, exploring their new relationship.
Excerpt:
Hesitating only for a moment, Aziraphale selected one of the wafers and broke it in half. With a wiggle of his hips, Lucifer closed his eyes and opened his mouth, Aziraphale’s desire reigniting at the sight as he laid the bread on Lucifer’s tongue.
“Delicious.” Aziraphale felt his cheeks flush as Lucifer watched him as though he were the wafer being consumed. The silver plate was whisked away, and in its place Lucifer pressed the cruet of wine and sank back on his heels. “The body and then the blood, my love. Pour it for me?”
Aziraphale’s breath caught at the lust and devotion mixing together in Lucifer’s eyes as he moved closer until he was able to lay his head back on Aziraphale’s thigh, mouth open, waiting. Hands shaking, Aziraphale lifted the cruet, feeling his Effort hardening at the sight.
Lucifer reached out and gently took Aziraphale’s wrist, holding his hand steady. His grip was like fire, scalding, but grounding, and Aziraphale reveled in his touch.
“I am not worthy to receive this,” Lucifer whispered, glancing at Aziraphale through his long, golden lashes, “but only say the word, Azi, and my soul shall be healed.”
Read the FULL collection here on AO3!
(also! A note... my AO3 name will be changing to the-ineffable-dance... new name, same fics!)
So, I decided to work on some Kinksgiving prompts this year in conjunction with my Kinktober and Kinkmas prompts. I have a problem and it's writing kinky fic.
RULES:
This is an all-fandoms, all-ships event! Literally, anything goes!
Cross-posting is more than allowed as long as the other event allows it! Please do not break the rules of another event!
You can interpret the daily prompts however you wish!
There is no word count limit! There is also no limit on art! If it's just a sketch then that's still allowed!
Please use the hashtag #hymemenakinksgiving2024 so we can see your work!
Warnings: double-penetration, dirty talk/name calling, inappropriate use of the Force, calling Kylo “sir” (what is that, mentions of, like, dom/sub, I guess? *vague shrugging noises*)
Words: 997
The feeling of being stuffed so absolutely, completely full is intoxicating. Kylo Ren’s cock is beautiful and thick, stretching your cunt to the point of a delicious burn, your mouth open in the perfect ‘o’ of passion and pleasure. Each thrust rocks against your cervix, brilliant, white-hot stars shooting behind your eyes as your world narrows down to the one point of contact; each of his hands are placed on either side of your head, hips pistoning into you with each brutal thrust.
“You still want more, don’t you?”
Kylo Ren’s voice is savage, derisive, his mouth drawn into a malicious snarl. Though the logical part of you knows that more might actually physically be impossible, the untamable, unbidden part of you cries out, wordless pleas dripping from your swollen lips.
He laughs at you, a delicious baritone that rings in your ears and sends pleasant chills down your spine. You whimper in response, sternum vibrating with the pitiful whine, chest heaving with primal noises of desire.
A sharp smack! resounds off of the walls as pain radiates from the meat of your thigh. You yelp, more in shock than actual hurt. Kylo Ren’s hand curls into a fist, grabbing at your flesh, using his grip to drive his cock harder inside of you.
“Answer me, you fucking slut.”
Your nails trails scratches into the muscled plane of his back, hips bucking up against his. Your voice is deep within your chest, so far from your current state of mind, that it takes a lengthy, fumbling moment to locate the words. Once found, they leap from your mouth in needy, pathetic cries.
“Please! Please, please, Sir, please, I want more!”
He groans above you, cock jumping inside your cunt, fingers twisting into the sheets.
“Stuffed full and still begging for more. Fucking disgusting.”
For as disgusted as he claims to be, he does not stop. He continues at his brutal pace, your clit aching for any kind of stimulation. But he knows. He keeps his hips just angled enough to leave you breathless, wanting ever more, your own hips canting for contact, for release.
“Fine, then. Take it.”
Confusion seeps in, your scattered brain floundering to attach meaning to his words until something… something solid and warm presses against your asshole. You jerk in response, driving his cock against your cervix unexpectedly and drawing a cacophony of moans from the both of you. He laughs again, mocking and manic, out of place in the intimate setting of his void of a bedroom. He’s sounds nearly mad.
“Ah ah,” he chides. “You don’t get to play coy now, girl.”
The sound of rustling fabric pulls at your attention. Impressions in the sheets crawl towards your limbs in the dim light, the actual shape invisible to your eyes. When, whatever it is, meet the skin of your ankles it’s… soft. Surprisingly smooth and firm. Like serpents, they wind around your ankles and pull your legs apart, spreading them wider and wider. The same sensation pulls at yours wrists, guiding them from Kylo Ren’s back, to the sheets over your head and pins them above you. At first, you let the sensations guide you, curiosity winning over reason.
It’s then that the push against your asshole brings you back to the present, and you realize with a jerk-- That’s the Force. He’s using the Force. Oh, Stars.
“Sir, isn’t this--” the words die in your throat, cinched by a tendril of dark power. There’s enough slack to be able to breath, though just barely. Shrill, shallow gasps fill your lungs as the coil of Force pushes again, plays around your perineum. The restraints at your joints are unmoving now, no longer soft and gentle but rigid and unyielding to your fidgeting.
Kylo Ren’s teeth gleam in the low light, pearlescent and deadly.
“Hold still for me.”
As if you had any other option.
The phantom tendril at your asshole pushes, sliding easily past what little resistance you put up. You’d assumed it would be more difficult, but the Force has no issue stretching you open. If the pain comes, it fades away too quickly to be an issue, replaced with the heat of being overwhelmingly full. The Force is warm, slick even, against the soft skin of your ass. Lewd noises paint the walls, entwining with the gasps that tumble from your lips.
“That’s it. Relax.”
A shuddering sigh rattles your chest as his cock sheathes deep within your cunt and the Force widens mercilessly in your asshole. Your conscious begins to fragment into smaller and smaller pieces, fluttering before your eyes like a swarm of butterflies, brilliant hues of color and passion.
It’s impossible to move either way; attempting to pull off of the intrusion in your ass drives you further onto the cock in your cunt, which in turn makes you flinch back against the Force holding you in place. Tears prick your eyes at your situation, and Kylo Ren coos at your torn expression. He gives a minute thrust of his hips and you cry out into the still air in return, the wall separating his cock and the tendril of Force feeling utterly paper thin.
Manipulations of veins and ridges drag against the walls of your ass, sensations of which you’d never even deemed possible flooding your gut with an all-encompassing heat. The coil of nerves within you twists tighter, begging to snap at any moment.
More, more.
Depraved, indulgent grunts and whimpers sound in your ear: the sounds of a woman lost to everything but the physical sensations tying her to reality. The tendril of Force molds itself into a mock resemblance of something vaguely phallic and rocks against you once, twice. The false-cock is just as big as (if not larger than) the one in stuffing your cunt. The burning stretch is almost more than you can handle.
Almost.
“Settle in, cock-hungry little slut. You wanted more. And now you’re going to get it.”
A collection of smutty Kinksgiving drabbles featuring Aziraphale/Lucifer! (AziraFer) my favorite rare pair. Using the heresy prompt list for the month, I'll be adding a chapter a day throughout November!
Title: This Beautiful Sin
Rating: E
Word Count: 100-200 words per chapter
Excerpt:
Lucifer prowled around the altar, eyes locked onto the angel spread out on the soft purple fabric. Aziraphale’s pale skin was flushed as he watched Lucifer circle. The weight of the Morningstar’s unwavering attention had Aziraphale squirming, but there was a rush of pleasure that coursed through him as well. He strained against the bonds that tied him to the altar, pulling his arms taunt over his head.
Warnings: knifeplay, bloodplay, bondage, a smidge of degradation/humiliation.
Words: 820
Cold.
The ancient steel is cold against your heated flesh, drawing a violent shudder down your spine as he trails the razor-sharp tip down your arm. Only a thin strip of velvet keeps the black nylon rope tied around your wrists and ankles from digging into your skin and rubbing it raw when you attempt to flinch away.
Your joints throb as you pull at your restraints, fear gripping your throat. The sneer on Kylo Ren’s face pulls his lips into a delicious pout and mesmerizes you into staying still. He stands tall and imposing above you, looking down at your form, tiny in comparison to his broad shoulders and thick muscles.
The blade of the dagger slides dangerously to your chest, the point pressing the tiniest dent into the crease of your breasts. The breath slips from your lungs in shaky gasps, as quiet and soft as the velvet on your joints. Your knees begin to ache as they press against the freezing tile. Goosepimples rip down your arms and legs, apprehension growing into fear as the dagger slips under your chin. You angle your jaw towards his face as it presses threateningly into your skin.
“Up.”
It’s difficult, with your extremities tied at critical points, but you manage to clumsily climb to your feet. Humiliation warms the back of your neck, a blush creeping over your cheeks as you struggle. One huge hand grips your upper arm, fingers overlapping, as the knife presses under your chin once more. The blade is freezing and flush against your skin. His chest is so close to your back, the harsh cloth of his tunic barely pressing against the dainty lace of your lingerie.
“Walk.”
You swallow what’s left of your pride and attempt to hobble to the bed. It’s more of a degrading bunny-hop towards the end, and you fall face first onto the stretch of black sheets. There’s a huff of a derisive laugh above you as you struggle to flip onto your back, arms pinned awkwardly underneath your weight. The dagger is back on your hip as Kylo Ren drags it down to the top of your thigh and slips it under the lace of your sheer nightgown. In an abstract moment of thought, you wonder how he even got the blade in the first place. Maybe it was an old family artifact, preserved through generations of tender care. Or maybe- the sound of delicate fabric ripping pulls you back into the moment and you gasp as he drags his wrist steadily upwards, slitting the pretty cloth up the middle.
The lace pulls at your skin until it splits and settles at your sides, flesh exposed to the chilling air. Your nipples harden painfully in the cold of the room as your lingerie falls to the bed, torn. Defeated.
The bed shifts as his hand rests just off of your left shoulder, his back arched over you. His stance is almost protective as the steel caresses your jaw. You bite back a cry and pin your lip between your teeth as he rakes the dagger down your body, blade threatening to split the skin as easily as it did the lingerie beneath you. The steel stops just over your pussy, a pitiful mewl escaping your mouth. Kylo Ren’s hand stills as you freeze, the dagger halted in its path.
“Again.”
His pupils are fat, breath heavy with passion as he watches the dagger leaves faint, delectable scratches on your skin. Pearlescent beads of red dot the expanse of your skin from where his hand pressed a little too firm and the blade slipped a little too deep in its journey downwards. Kylo Ren looks hypnotized, gaze fixated on those beads of red as he bends at the waist and flicks his tongue out against the lesion.
Your nose wrinkles as a pitiful whimper steals from your lips, his mouth hot and dizzying against your marred flesh. His breath fans over your skin as his nose drags along the cut, until he breathes deeply in the scent of your flesh and pulls back to stand tall and intimidating above you.
“Oh, little girl. You bleed for me so nicely. Keep being good.”
You nod eagerly as the dagger slips along the inside of your thighs, leaving trails of freezing fire in it’s wake. If you could just be good, be good for him, maybe you could get out of this mostly unscathed.
“Tell me.”
“I’ll be good. I’ll be so good for you.”
The dagger slices into the meat of your thigh and draws a yelp from your throat, tears pricking your eyes. Blood dribbles onto the black sheets, slick and shiny on the fabric. His tongue darts out to swipe along his lower lip as he grins wickedly. His voice is breathy and rough and you shiver, forcing the knife to press harsher against your abused flesh.
