#avo’s kt 23 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 21

21. Anonymous Sex, Hair Pulling, Masturbation

It’s 1660 and everything is wonderful.

It’s not just the fantastic sex, it’s the fact that you no longer have to face the possibility of a solitary life. No others to keep you company, cursed to an existence of watching the people you love wither and die until your only option was to simply not care about humans at all. But now? Oh, you not only have one kindred soul, but two. You’re jubilant. You’re overwhelmed. And you’re not alone.

And, also, it’s the fantastic sex.

You’re learning new things about each other’s bodies, what works, what doesn’t. You have not left the bed for any significant period of time for months. You’re sore and exhausted all the time but oh, isn’t it lovely?

Today, for instance, you’re about to find out something wonderful about Crowley.

He’s walking past breezily as you sit at your dressing table readying yourself for the morning, wearing that dashing doublet and tight hose, his auburn locks flowing behind him. Gosh he is delicious. Utterly without thinking, you reach out to grab a handful of hair, playfully.

“Look at you, aren’t you just —”

“Unnnnnfff—aaaa!”

The reaction comes as an utter surprise to you both. There you are, a handful of grabbed tresses, and there he is, head wrenched back and moaning like a whore. He slaps his hands over his mouth.

You light up.

“Oh my god!”

“Don’t you dare—”

You tug again and he whines, hips thrusting into the air. It’s like you’ve pulled a lever he didn’t know about. You giggle, wind a strand around your finger.

“Oh, this is brilliant. Aziraphale, come here!”

Like a dog when called the angel pops up in the doorway instantly, eyes going wide when he sees what’s going on.

“What’s…”

“Listen to this noise Crowley makes.”

The demon is utterly powerless when you give his hair another yank, his moan cracking through the air like a beautiful sonata. Aziraphale goes bright pink.

“I see.”

You push Crowley onto the bed and straddle him. He is a mess under you already, you can feel how hard he is, how wanton. You pin his hands to the mattress.

“Tell us to fuck you.”

“Fuck me,” he begs, instantly. The two of you oblige.

@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

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

153 notes · View notes

kaylinelizabeth4004 · 7 months

Text

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

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens fanart #fanart #Aziraphale #fem aziraphale #avo's kt 23 #Becca no

57 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 22

22. True Monsters, Spiritual Possession, Sexual Exhaustion

The thing is.

The thing is, about having two otherworldy lovers.

The thing is about it, is you can do some awfully kinky things.

They have corporeal forms of course, but they aren’t actually mortal beings. Things can get strange and metaphysical and very filthy indeed.

It’s an odd experience to have another soul in your body. A body is meant to be a singular thing, after all, directed by one mind and one mind only, a consciousness deciding on every movement. You should have total control over your actions.

That is not the case. Right now you can feel Crowley inside you, and not in the usual way. His existence is pressed up against your own, your very souls rutting against each other, fighting for dominance and utterly entwined. You are one. He’s using your fingers to explore the meat of your cunt. You’ve already come twice and he’s not done with you yet.

“Such a pretty little clit,” you hear your own voice say, but with Crowley’s cadence. You mewl and try to get his hand to stop but he keeps going. Your slick drips down to your knuckles and you feel yourself reach up and taste yourself, a tang flooding your tongue.

“You are delicious. If I was you this is all I’d do all day, nightingale. Lie here and fuck myself. You’re so lovely, and your pleasure? Christ, it’s like a drug. Intoxicating.”

You huff a laugh at his ridiculous compliments but feel your skin heating up.

“Hmm. Well, I wouldn’t get much done, would I?” you answer him. He splays your creamy pussy open and your head turns to your other lover. Aziraphale, for his part, has been watching utterly entranced, rendered speechless at the strange and bewitching pornography before him. He strokes himself as he stares at you, at both of you.

“Come on, angel. We’re ready,” Crowley breathes. Aziraphale kneels before you, hitching one of your legs over his shoulder, rubbing the blunt head of his cock against your sore centre.

“Strangest threesome I’ve ever had,” you manage, and the three of you chuckle.

“Hmm, it’s certainly up there, my darling,” Aziraphale agrees as he slides home. Your body bucks and twists and the angel has to pin your hips down to stay sheathed in you.

“Oh my— how— how does it feel so good?” Crowley drawls from your lips. “You’ve both fucked me hundreds of times and it’s never been…”

“My darling, that’s because you’re in a human body. They’re a little more sensitive than ours. We’re made of starlight, of dust; they’re all flesh and blood and softness and velvet,” Aziraphale muses as he starts to fuck you properly. The slide of his cock is overwhelming for Crowley, you can feel his spirit roil in your ribs and stomach.

“Oh, oh, I’m going to —”

Your body comes and you’re swept away with it. Aziraphale keeps going, a smile spreading over his face.

“Angel?” whispers Crowley, blissed out. Aziraphale cocks a brow.

“The two of us aren’t finished yet, darling,” he hums.

“You can tap out though,” you tell Crowley with a grin. Inside you, he pouts.

“Not a chance.”

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

133 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 17

17. Dirty Talking, Pussy Eating/Blowjob, Breath Control

You’re working an event. One you organised, actually, a gala for a smaller museum relying on public funding. You like to be able to help the community as much as you can so you donated your efforts for free and organised a showing of some rarer artefacts for them. You’re doing what you do best: gliding effortlessly between sponsors, trying to wrack up more donors for the place, a winning smile plastered on your face. You don’t get to be two thousand years old without learning how to talk to people.

Your husbands are here, too. Dressed up properly. Well, as properly as you can get them - they’re in decent suits, at least. Aziraphale is making animated conversation with one of the partygoers about a book on display, and Crowley looks bored.

When Crowley looks bored, you know there’s going to be trouble.

You see, when the partygoer heads off, Crowley moves closer to Aziraphale. His lips are whispering something devilishly, a smile creeping across his face. The effect is immediate. Aziraphale goes bright red and has to start subtly adjusting his trousers. He says something sharply to the demon who chuckles.

Crowley snakes over to you while you’re getting yourself another glass of wine.

“Whatever you’re up to, stop it,” you say, lowly. Crowley hums and puts his chin in his hand, regarding you coolly behind his dark glasses.

“Me? Up to something? You wound me, my love.”

He waits until the bartender is turned and dips his head forward.

“I was just thinking about how I want to fuck you in that suit.”

You inhale sharply, glancing around to make sure nobody is listening, then shoot Crowley a dangerous look.

“Crowley…”

“What? You didn’t pick it because you knew it looked bad, did you?”

It is your favourite suit, to be fair. Navy blue and tight, it accentuates all of the best parts of your body. You know your bum looks spectacular in it.

“We are in public.”

Crowley waves his hand, and at once, everyone finds something interesting to look at away from the bar. He steps forward, caging you in with his hips. You feel the rub of his cock against your arse.

“Tell me you’re not thinking about it. About me pushing you over this bar, spreading your legs. You wouldn’t put up a fight would you? You’d love me fucking you where everyone can see.”

You press your thighs together, feel your face get hot.

“Rip those trousers off you, press my mouth between your legs like you deserve. I know you love my tongue, nightingale. I bet you’d love to be eaten here, wouldn’t you? Stake your claim over this little museum. You’d never be able to come here again without thinking about how many orgasms I gave you in the function room. You’d always need to press your luscious thighs together.”

“Crowley…” A plea.

“I know how needy you are. I bet, right now, I could sink my cock inside you up to the base, couldn’t I? Feel you dripping down me. You’d make a dreadful mess on the bar but somehow I think you wouldn’t really care. I think you just want to see me soaked in you.”

“Stop…” you don’t mean it.

“Fuck, you’re like velvet. I never get tired of having you.”

He wraps a hand lightly around your neck, and instead of telling him off, you find yourself keening into it. He runs his thumb along your pulse point, flicks his tongue out to lick the shell of your ear.

“Aziraphale’s waiting for us in the cloakroom. Are you coming?”

Yes, you rather are.

When the bartender finally turns back round with your sauvignon blanc, he’s surprised to see you utterly gone.

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

120 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 26

26. Tentacles, Demons/Angels, Crying

You love it when they get their wings out.

It’s such a quiet affectionate thing, a little secret only the three of you share. Especially because both of them go absolutely feral when you dig your hands in their feathers. It’s so delicious to know what drives them wild, and be allowed to touch them so intimately.

At the moment you’re between them on the bed. You’re kneeling, cushioned by the soft duvet, and they’ve enclosed around either side of you. Their wings are out in a deferential and protective cocoon. Here, trapped between their gorgeous bodies, it feels like you’re the only three people in the world.

You kiss Aziraphale as Crowley lines up and presses inside of you. You hum against your angel’s lips as your demon begins to thrust, the head of his cock grazing over and over against that sweet spot delicious nestled in your velvety walls. He drops his lips to your shoulder; you can feel him mouthing ‘fuck’ and ‘i love you’ without him even having to raise his voice.

You reach out and caress one of his primaries. You feel his breath hitch, his Adam's apple bob against your skin. The feather is silky against your fingertips. You skim up and down it and watch the way his wings bristle in anticipation as you get a little higher with each stroke. Finally you touch his alula, and his knees threaten to give out.

“Oh, fuck me, nightingale–”

It seems like a funny pet name to have at this precise moment, but you’ve come to love it all the same. Aziraphale smiles adoringly at the two of you, as you slowly creep Crowley towards the edge. He cups your face in one of his hands, uses his other to guide the blunt head of his cock towards your hole too. It takes a bit of shifting and a delicious stretch to fit both of them inside but god is it worth it.

“There we are, darling,” he mutters, voice thick with lust as he starts to give gentle thrusts inside you. His cock nudges Crowley’s and, between your fingers in his wing and the feeling of his lovers against and around him, you feel your demon release in hot spurts inside you. You feel it dripping out of you, sinfully, onto the bedsheets.

Aziraphale keeps fucking you from where he has you held as Crowley collapses against your back, boneless and spent - you move your caressing touch to the angel’s wings now. He gasps and groans as you walk them across his shoulder blade and along to his scapula.

“There we go,” you chuckle, gently scratching the little downy feathers there. They’re so fluffy and sweet - a stark contrast to the rest of his wing which is solidly built and powerful. You scratch affectionately until you feel the soft skin beneath.

“Oh gosh, oh…” he moans, fucking up inside you in time with your strokes. His wings begin to shudder involuntarily as you massage them and then, suddenly, flip out to their full length as he comes. He knocks a couple of lamps off their shelves but, honestly, you can fix those later. The feeling of their combined orgasms is enough to beckon your own and the three of you collapse into the bed, sated, interlocked, and loving.

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

128 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 31

31. Reverse au

notes: we made it! I’d like to give a big thank you to everyone who’s been consistently reblogging my fics & commenting this month. You’ve given me the push to keep going! I wouldn’t have done this without you. And of course my friend & beta, M. Thank you for looking over my porn and pointing out my spelling mistakes (sincerely). 😌

You are never happier than when you’re with your angel and your demon.

They are two utterly, utterly different souls, brought together by their adoration of each other and of you. You cannot thank the universe enough for them. They are a salve to your soul, the reason you want to come home every day. They are your dearest reward and most stable constant.

They are your husbands, and you love them.

You get home late that night, letting yourself into the back of the plant shop with the keys Crowley trusts you with. There’s two keyrings on them: an AC/DC one Zira got you when you went to see their Back in Black tour back in the 80s, and one you picked up from a museum where some of your finds were being put on display. It has a little dinosaur skeleton motif and reads ‘I dig you’. You laughed at it for so long Crowley bought a handful of them, just in case they ever fell apart.

“Boys?” you call.

“In the dining room, my love!” Crowley chirps. You leave your suitcase by the door, deciding you’ll be bothered to unpack it later, and head towards them.

You grin when you see what they’ve laid out.

“What’s all this?”

The table is set with Crowley’s fine china, three places set by candlelight. Dinner, your favourite, has been set out on serving platters. Even Zira has managed to dress up in a black dress shirt which he has the top buttons undone on and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows for. Crowley is dressed in another new suit, but it’s your favourite colour, so you’ll let it slide without comment.

“We missed you, gorgeous,” Zira says with a grin as he pours you a glass of merlot. Crowley gets up and pulls your chair out for you, and you chuckle at the chivalry of it.

“I’ve only been away for a couple of weeks.”

“Mmm, which is the longest we’ve been apart since that stint in 2008,” Zira remarks.

“Oh, right. The apocalypse thing. I suppose it has, hasn’t it?”

“Well, you’re back now. How was the dig, my love?”

You eat and go into detail about your time away, the site you were excavating. Roman villa. Not one you ever visited personally, but similar enough in style to ones you saw at the time for you to be able to lead the team in the right direction. Your husbands listen, hanging on your every word; Zira eating far more than you actually remember being cooked and Crowley taking the occasional bite and sipping his wine, dabbing his mouth gently with the edge of his napkin.

They love hearing about your day. When you’re all caught up with each other, Crowley reaches across to rest his hand on yours.

“You realise what today is, don’t your darling?”

You furrow your brow.

“Saturday?”

“Well, yes. But it’s our anniversary.”

You immediately start fiddling with your wedding ring, confused.

“No it isn’t? Our anniversary is —”

“Not that one,” Zira says through a mouthful of chocolate cake. “The other one.”

Oh. Oh.

“Oh my god, when we all met each other again. How could I forget?” you whisper. Crowley smiles.

“And when we all fuc—”

“Yes, thank you Zira,” says Crowley, pursing his lips. “You’ve been busy darling, it’s alright.”

You cast your mind back to that night in 1656. You were so desperate for entertainment, your beloved theatre banned by that twat Cromwell, that you accepted an invitation by your friend Davenant to go and see his opera. Sneaky bastard had managed to get around the ban on plays by adding music to his work. You hadn’t been too sure but god were you glad you accepted because who else had been there but two handsome no-longer-strangers you never thought you’d see again.

Yes, the three of you had come back together. And then you came together in one of Davenant’s coat closets when you sneaked away during Act 2. The three of you have been inseparable since.

“Well,” you say, standing up and grabbing both of them by the collar, “I suppose we’d better celebrate.”

Zira kisses you first. He usually does. He tastes of wine and tobacco, a heady mix you’ve long since come to love. He presses you backwards into Crowley’s grasp and your angel begins to undress you, his nimble fingers making short work of everything above your torso. Zira wastes no time before beginning to fondle your chest, grinning as you keen against him.

“Fuck, two weeks is too long,” he growls on your lips.

“Quite right,” Crowley agrees, peppering kisses along the length of your arm, sucking your fingers into his mouth and moaning around them. You capture him in a kiss next, loving the way he begins to whine in need when you show him any attention whatsoever.

“Oh Zira, how did you deal with this one while I was away? Isn’t he a handful?” you say, wickedly, enthralled.

“I used a gag, honestly,” Zira chuckles lowly. Crowley immediately goes pink.

“I, I…”

“You’re a beautiful boy. And so are you, Zira.”

The demon chuckles.

“I scrub up alright.”

You sink to your knees before them, looking up with doe-eyes.

“Come on. I’ve missed being down here. Let me use my mouth, it’s been ever so empty without your cocks in it.”

The sentence has them immediately under your spell. They fiddle with their flies: Crowley on the trousers of his suit, Zira his black jeans which he considers ‘fancy’ wear. Soon they’re both in front of you, dripping and hard.

“Oh, look at the both of you. I’m away for a fortnight and you’re both desperate for me.”

“Yeah,” Zira chokes out, eyes blown wide. You circle a hand around them both and stroke them in tandem, working their shafts with your clever fingers. They’re both so different: Zira’s cock is girthy and thick, ruddy red at the head; Crowley’s longer and more slender with a slight upwards arch. You don’t have a favourite. You like both of them in every hole you have.

You start with Zira, knowing he’s the most impatient, taking him down your throat as you pump Crowley with your hand. The demon growls and buries his hands in your hair, dragging your mouth up and down the length of him as gently as he’s able to.

“Fu-uu-uck, like that, babe,” he growls. You let saliva build up and drip down your chin along with his pre-spend, a filthy cocktail landing on your bare chest. As he gets more ravenous for you you release him with a pop, switching your attention to Crowley, taking him down in one swallow.

“Oh–! Oh my goodness, I–” your angelic husband whines, keening his hips against you, desperate to feel the slide of his length across your tongue. You choke a little in a way that you don’t with Zira, grinning as tears sting your eyes.

You stay like that, fucking one with your hand and the other with your mouth, until you know they’re both about to come. At that point you bring them together, watching them kiss each other as you take the heads of both of them between your lips at once. Your tongue swirls a sinful sonata on them and they come at once, all over your face and chest and down your throat, they groan into each other’s mouths as Zira fists one hand in Crowley’s hair and the other in yours.

You barely have time to recuperate before Zira drags you to your feet, kissing you so he can taste the combined mix of their cum on your tongue. Then with a strength you forget he has he hefts you over one shoulder and Crowley over the other, marching you both to the bedroom as he miracles off his clothes.

“Zira–!” you squeak with glee, reaching down to slap his peachy arse as he goes.

“What? We all said it: two weeks is too long.”

He deposits you both on the bed and you don’t leave it for the rest of the night. They share you between them, sandwiching you between their bodies in the most heavenly and wicked way. Their cocks fill you up at once and they fuck you until you’re nothing but a ragged, exhausted shell between them, dripping with come and decorated with bruises and scratchmarks. All three of you are, actually: the signature of your lovemaking. Messy, intense, and always always gorgeous.

You snuggle between them as you relax in the afterglow. Zira has lit a cigarette and smokes it lazily, exhaling it in rings in the air above your bed. You pet Crowley’s hair and are thoroughly content with it all.

“Happy anniversary, my darlings.”

“Happy anniversary,” Crowley whispers from where his lips rest against your skin.

“Here’s for another four hundred years,” Zira chuckles, and you think you’d like that very much indeed.

#Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #Avo’s kt 23 #aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #reverse au

106 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 29

29. Genital Pumping, Coercion/Blackmail, Pregnancy

You’ve been sneaking out, and your husbands are determined to know why.

Every Sunday morning. Usually you’d come straight to the bookshop, there bright and early at nine, ready to spend the day together. But recently you’ve been appearing a little later. They’re sure you’re not hiding anything illicit - that’s not your style and besides, you’re eight months pregnant. It’s hard for you to hide anything when all you can do is waddle.

They can’t follow you. Neither of them have the subtlety for that, not when it comes to you, anyway. You’re far more observant than either of them. If they tailed you, it would be a dead giveaway in moments. And they can’t ask any of their friends to follow you or they’ll get some strange looks.

So, intervention it is then.

You unlock the bookshop with the spare set of keys Aziraphale gave you. It has an Isle of Wight keyring on it. You take off your coat and are about to call out for your husbands when you stop dead.

They’re sitting on the sofa, a cup of tea in both of their hands, one on the coffee table with the handle facing the chair opposite. An invitation for you.

You sigh.

“Oh god, what’s going on?”

“We just want to have a chat, darling,” Aziraphale says, pleadingly. You can tell this is going to be ridiculous and meander over to the armchair, sitting down heavily.

“We’ve just noticed you’ve had a change in schedule, and were wondering where you were heading off to Sunday mornings.”

You groan as you take a sip of your tea, cast your eyes downwards. Crowley and Aziraphale exchange a look.

“Is there something wrong with the babies? With you? If there is, we want to be there to help,” Crowley says, firmly. That makes you look up.

“What? Oh goodness, no. They’re fine, I’m fine. We’re all fine. I’d never hide something like that from you, ever.”

“Then what is it, darling?” Aziraphale pleads. You sigh. Take another sip.

“‘Mgoint’prenataly’ga,” you mutter under your breath.

“Sorry?”

“I’m going to prenatal yoga, alright? Please don’t make me say it again.”

Another exchanged look, but this one less worried and more baffled.

“Oh. We thought you were doing something actually worth hiding,” Crowley sniffs, and you can tell his mind is crawling with ideas as to what that might be. Suddenly it all comes rushing out of you, like a dam has been detonated in your throat.

“It is worth hiding! Look at me, I’m two thousand years old, and I’m doing the warrior pose with a bunch of women young enough to be my great-grandaughter fifty times over. I’m a month away from giving birth, I’m carrying twins, and it’s bloody embarrassing alright! I look awful!”

You slump back into the chair dramatically, balancing your teacup on your belly, and stare up to the ceiling. It takes only a couple of moments for your husbands to perch on either side of the armchair, bringing your attention back to them.

“Oh, my darling,” Aziraphale whispers, “you can’t possibly think that, can you?”

“That I look awful? Well, have you seen me?”

“Yes,” he says quietly, but there’s a gravelly quality to his voice which has you looking into his eyes. They’re dark with lust, something only echoed as he reaches over and runs his hand across you.

“Darling, you are beautiful. You are brimming with new life. Do you not understand how wonderful that is, how you ought to be revered for it? We’ve always thought you were gorgeous, and now it’s just… a different kind of beauty.”

Aziraphale captures you in a kiss with far too much tongue to be chaste. You feel Crowley move his lips down your body, planting them on your neck, your collarbone, your stomach - then he settles between your legs. You let him part your thighs and reach under your skirt, stripping your pants off. You go to object about the unflattering style of them but are cut off when he moves the bunched fabric to his nose and takes a deep inhale.

“Fuck. I’m never going to get tired of the smell of your cunt,” he growls, tucking them into the pocket of his waistcoat before burying his face in you. You yelp, not quite realising that your body had been so receptive to their attentions. You’re already wet when Crowley starts to eat your tender pussy, clit throbbing under his every lick.

“Oh– fuck–”

“That’s it. Let it out,” he mutters against your cunt. Aziraphale strips off your shirt, unhooking your bra and draping it lazily over the back of the armchair, before pressing his mouth to your breast. You hiss as he snares your nipple between his teeth, pulling just to the edge of pain before running his tongue over the sensitive little nub.

“You are so lovely, darling. Tell us you know that. Tell us you believe it.”

You fist one of your hands in Aziraphale’s waistcoat, the other in Crowley’s hair.

“Oh— fuck! Yes! I do,” you wail, thrashing until Crowley pins your hips to the armchair with one surprisingly strong forearm.

“Good,” they say, in unison, but don’t stop until you’re screaming.

When you next go to prenatal yoga, there are two new mums joining. One’s a slightly older homely looking woman in beige, the other is a yummy mummy all in black who refuses to take off her sunglasses. They put their mats next to yours and for once you don’t feel silly about doing garland pose.

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Avo’s kt 23 #fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween

119 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 25

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

A long time ago - far before the twins were even a glint in your eyes - when you were still working out what you liked to do with each other, Crowley once let out something quite delicious.

It’s 1661, and you’re riding Crowley as if your life depends on it. The two of you are keeping each other busy until Aziraphale gets back from heaven business, with strict instructions that you’re to report everything that you get up to back to him. Your angel, never wanting to miss out on a single second of pleasure. That’s alright, though. You can picture it now: slowly telling him about every detail, the way Crowley’s cock bounces up inside of you, the way you’re so wet you’re dripping down his sac. You’re sure Aziraphale will be fisting himself by the end of it, dirty thing.

But back to the matter at hand. Your hands are spread over Crowley’s chest, fingers splayed as you push him deeper into the bed. You run a thumb over one of his nipples and he lets out a reedy little mewl. You grin and fuck down on him harder, loving the filthy throb of his cock inside you.

“Fuck. Do you like that, Crowley? Being up on the flat of your back while I ride you?”

“Oh god, oh fuck. Yes, daddy - !”

The two of you freeze instantly. You look down at him, astonished. He meets you with wide, slightly terrified eyes. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him so vulnerable. It seems like he’s waiting for you to be angry, to tell him off - and yet he’s still hard as rock inside you.

You give an experimental little thrust. He moans.

“Did you just call me ‘daddy’?”

“Y-yes,” he admits, suddenly unable to meet your gaze. You fuck forward again and he chokes on his own breath, his chest hitching beneath your hands.

“Oh, Crowley, I had no idea,” you say, a wide and cunning smile crossing your face. Suddenly you’re even more soaked, turned on by this sudden and filthy discovery. You lean back and start riding him again, but lazily this time, taking his cock out of you to the head and then sinking back down. Crowley moans and keens, his fingers digging into your hips hard.

“You like daddy riding you, hmm?”

“Oh fuck. Yes. Yeah, I do,” he chokes. You reach forward to cup his face in your hands and he watches you reverently. As if you hung the stars.

“Do you want to come, honey? Want daddy to make you come?”

He nods, words utterly failing him at this point.

“Say it.”

“Say…?”

“Say you want me to make you come.”

“Make me come, daddy, please,” he chokes, every syllable a struggle.

You contract all the muscles inside of you and make Crowley groan and thrash and he cums so hard that you think he might pass out for a second. He’s left a sweaty mess beneath you, panting for air which he doesn’t need. You carefully pull yourself free, hissing at the soreness he’s left, and clutch him in your arms.

“Are you alright, my darling?”

Crowley hums his confirmation and nestles into your chest. Until he’s back with you, you stroke his hair, press a kiss to his forehead.You’ll be telling Aziraphale every detail of this.

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

99 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 24

24. Bratty Sub, Anal/Oral Training, Caging

You’re going away, and Crowley is whining.

“But Aziraphale’s gone too. I’m going to be so bored,” he pouts. You pat him on the cheek a little condescendingly.

“Aww, well I’m sure you’ll be able to look after yourself, kitten. Besides, our angel will be back in a couple of days so it’s not like it’s for long.”

To be honest, you can’t think of the last long time the three of you were apart, at least all at once. But unfortunately busy schedules collided. Aziraphale has headed off to Spain in order to practise some heavenly deliverance - or something else from head office, you’re not entirely sure - and you’re flying over stateside in order to try and make a deal about an exhibition. Aziraphale can’t really be seen with your demon lover and the last time you let Crowley tag along on one of your business trips he kept you in bed for so long you almost missed the entire meeting altogether. You can’t risk it again, so this time you had to put your foot down.

“Eurrrrgghhhhh,” Crowley groans, sliding down onto the sofa in a most uncomfortable shape. You make a show of sighing.

“Well, I suppose if you’re like that, you won’t want to see the parting gift I got you.”

His head pops up over the top of the couch.

“Gift?”

You lead him to the bedroom and he follows like an eager spaniel.

“Strip.”

As he does you rummage around in your bedside drawer. When you turn he’s naked and ready, so it’s a wonderful reaction when you hold up the cage.

His mouth drops open.

“I…”

“Aww, are you not pleased?”

“What is that?” he asks lowly. You hold it up, hooked on one finger.

“It’s a cock cage, silly. Do you not like it? Aziraphale liked his.”

That’s true. He was moaning when you put it on him, leaking pre out through the bars and covering your hand, making it rather difficult to lock the damn thing around him. Needy little angel.

But he wore it because he’s a good boy.

Crowley swallows. Despite how humiliating it is - or perhaps because of how humiliating it is - you can see he’s interested.

“Come here.”

He does, obediently. His voice hitches in the back of his throat as you lock him into it, head falling forward onto your shoulder for support. He twists uncomfortably against you.

“You alright, darling?”

“Yes,” he hisses. You can see him strain painfully against the restraint. His poor cock is practically throbbing.

But he needs to wait.

“Alright my love,” you tell him at the end of a long and languid kiss, holding his narrow hips flush against your own, “I’ll be back in a week. I know you can be good for me.”

The way he whimpers makes it seem like he can’t.

Aziraphale comes back two days later and Crowley thinks he’ll finally have some relief — but it’s only as they melt into each other’s arms that they realise you still have the keys.

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

106 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 23

23. Breeding/Impregnation, Fancy Dress, Frottage

notes: set before you knew you could have the twins.

Just because they can’t get you pregnant, doesn’t mean it can’t be a fun venture in bed to imagine that they could.

Maybe it’s because the three of you, though happy with what you have - more than happy, really, elated is a better word - long for something a little bit more. A child to tie the relationship up with a bow. A cherry on top.

But you can’t, so the fantasy is just that: a fantasy.

Crowley and Aziraphale are both inside you. It’s a feeling you got used to centuries ago but never fails to make you moan and whine when experiencing it. You’re lying on top of Aziraphale, the soft plushness of his body a pillow, his girthy length stretching you wide. Crowley is longer but slimmer, he’s easily able to push inside your cunt too. You take them easily and welcome them both into your velvety softness.

“There we are,” Aziraphale whispers as he feels the sinful rub of Crowley’s cock against his own while they fuck you, slow and sensual. They jostle inside you for room, making Crowley press deliciously against your front wall and send pleasure shooting down your spine.

The demon’s eyes are blown wide at the picture painted in front of him, and Aziraphale reaches around half to stroke your clit and half to feel where you and Crowley connect. He sighs huskily in your ear.

“You are magnificent, my darling. You love being filled, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” is all you can manage. You do. “Want to be f-filled by something else, though.”

You see the smile on Crowley’s face, but only hear it on Aziraphale’s behind you as he chuckles in delight. They begin to fuck you a little rougher, pressing you open with more urgency.

“Oh, do you want us to fuck a baby into you, nightingale?” Crowley asks lowly. You moan and nod.

“Yeah.”

“You want to have a demon’s child? An angel’s one? Feel it growing inside of you, proof of how we’ve fucked you so many times that you can’t not have it take?”

Crowley leans down and forces a kiss onto your needy mouth, before offering the same to Aziraphale.

“Oh god…”

“I bet you’d let us, too. Let us fuck you over and over again until you’re dripping with us, so stuffed full your poor puffy little cunt can only throb.”

“You’d look lovely pregnant, my dear,” Aziraphale whispers, his soft voice a gentle caress, a total flip from Crowley’s filthy words. “You’d be so full of us, so splendid and radiant. And we’d be able to look at you all the time knowing we’re the ones that did it.”

His hands come up to clutch your tits, pinch and roll your nipples between his thick fingers.

“Your breasts would get tender and start dripping with milk. You’d grow and flourish with new life, my darling. I’d never be able to stop looking at you. Stop touching you. Gosh, you are a masterpiece, an utter work of art anyway - but I can’t help but wonder what you’d look like swollen with us.”

It’s too much. You’re getting overwhelmed. And from the way their thrusts are matching in erraticness, so are they.

“Come inside me. Please, please. I need it. I need you to fill me up.”

They don’t need to be asked again, and your lovers spill into your willing cunt, hot and hard. You feel their spend drip out between their cocks. When they pull out you moan for loss of contact but not for long - Crowley raises your legs so that your ankles can sit on his shoulder, Aziraphale begins to finger the mix of them back inside of you.

“Now now, nightingale. Got to give it the best chance to work, hmm?” Crowley asks, eyes sparkling. You surrender your pliant body over to them and know they’ll take care of it.

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

115 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 20

20. Uniform, Titjob, Thighfucking

notes: a continuation of this.

Aziraphale, still fully dressed and utterly in charge, has a hand on both of you, caressing the small of your backs. His legs are spread wide so that you and Crowley can each mount one of his thighs, and the two of you are riding him as if your lives depend on it.

“Come on, my darlings,” he mutters, huskily, “I know that you can do better than that.”

Crowley whines. His cunt is leaving quite a mess on Aziraphale, smearing him with slick; the angel’s leg is stained dark by his arousal. It’s a sinful, delicious sight. When Aziraphale makes his command you hear him whine in the back of his throat and redouble his efforts, pressing down even harder. You watch the way Crowley’s clit catches on the crease of Aziraphale’s trouser and he lets out a breathy moan.

You won’t be outdone. Pressing your hips down harder you trap your sex against your angel and rut into him like a dog in heat. Your hand curls in his shirt and you drop your forehead to his shoulder, holding onto him as if for dear life. Aziraphale traces the arched line of your spine and says your name in soft adoration.

You come all over him. The roughness of the material of his trouser is enough to get you there and you let a long wail of “oh, a-aa-aa-ngel,” choke out of you.

Crowley isn’t far behind, his slick so soaking that it drips into the couch below. The two of you collapse into the plush softness of your angel’s embrace.

“There we go. Aren’t you two beautiful? I’m so proud of you,” Aziraphale mutters, holding the two of you ever so tightly. You find Crowley’s fingers as you move to the apex of Azirphale’s legs, rubbing the bulge there. The two of you manage to look up and exchange a lazy smile.

You’re not done quite yet.

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

93 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 28

28. Cuckolding, Aphrodisiacs, Temperature Play sequel to… x

You let out a long, juddering breath and feel the warm swim of Crowley’s eggs inside you. God, you have never been so full before. You run a hand over your swollen stomach, laughing at the gentle jostle they create beneath your exploring fingers.

Crowley is wrapped around you, still in demon form. His tail has swaddled your legs and his human-presenting torso is keeping you clutched to his chest, caressing your hair with his long dexterous fingers.

“You are gorgeous like this,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your crown. You skim your fingers along his flank, his skin delicate and ticklish beneath you.

“Could say the same about you.”

He tangles your lips with his own, kissing you long and slow. You feel his tail constrict ever so slightly, forcing your legs together, making your clit catch a little. You moan into his mouth and feel him smile in return.

The door to the bedroom opens and Aziraphale walks in, a small amount of lamb and roast potatoes piled onto a plate. He sits on your free side and smiles, reaching out to stroke your face.

“How are you feeling, my dear?”

“Full.” Your stomach rumbles loudly at the smell of food. “And hungry, actually.”

Aziraphale laughs as you reposition yourself to sit up a little, before feeding you little delicate bites from his fingers. You moan at it. Everything is just so heightened at the moment, and the tender care your lovers are taking with you is making you feel… it’s making you feel…

You swallow a bite of lamb. Something shifts inside you. And, as you press down on your abdomen, you feel something pop.

“Oh fu-uu-uuu-UUCK!” you cry as a slick liquid dribbles out from between your legs and you come harder than you can remember doing for years. It’s probably because of the shock of it - your poor body wasn’t expecting to be launched into orgasm, so the thing fucking hits you like a tidal wave. Aziraphale puts the plate down - but not before he sneaks a potato for himself - and Crowley unwraps his tail, letting you open your legs.

“Crow-?!” you start, shocked, but moan as another pop echoes through your womb, another waterfall of slick. You grab each of their hands and grip so tightly you think that you might actually break their fucking knuckles. You’ve never felt pleasure like this. It’s absurd. It’s divine.

“They’re dissolving, nightingale,” Crowley whispers against your ear. Christ, his breath is hot and soft and fuck you are going to go mad.

“I didn’t realise–”

“Neither did I, when I did this,” Aziraphale mutters, dropping a kiss to your hand, “just ride through it my darling. You’ll be fine, I’m sure. I told you they were aphrodisiacs.”

You moan, push, another two bursts inside you. More pours out from you, along with your own release - the pressure hitting your g-spot inside is making you squirt. You collapse back into your lovers.

“Oh god, oh god, someone touch me, someone please fucking touch me…”

They’re both there in an instant. Crowley pushes up inside you, touching that already raw and edged sweet spot nestled in your inner wall; Aziraphale presses down hard on your clit. You come at the feeling of it but he doesn’t stop.

It can’t last more than twenty minutes, but by the time you’re done, your body is flat again and the mattress is soaked. You collapse into the pillows, so thoroughly spent that you think you might pass out.

Your lovers are there, gripping your hands and grounding you. You’re safe. With them gently calling your name, you come back to the moment.

“Are you alright, my darling?”

You nod.

“That was… oh god. Can you do it again?”

Crowley laughs, showing a mouthful of those beautiful white teeth. His fangs glisten.

“I only need to do it every hundred years, give or take. But that’s need. I might be able to produce a few more beforehand.”

“Yes please,” you say, far too quickly, and all three of you laugh. Then, after a beat, you ask a question which has been lurking for a little bit.

“And… if they took, what would that be like?”

You see Crowley and Aziraphale exchange a look. Ah. Well, that can’t be good.

“It’s… they wouldn’t, love,” Crowley says quietly, wiping your hair from your sex-sticky forehead. “I’m sorry. It needs two demons, and…”

“...and I’m just a human,” you finish. He doesn’t want to, but he nods.

You put on a brave face and flash them a smile.

“Well, no matter. Can’t imagine I’d want twelve little Crowleys wriggling around anyway. Excuse me for a moment,” you get to your feet, probably far too soon, and wobble over to the earth closet, closing the door firmly behind you.

That’s the first indication they get of you wanting something more. Aziraphale sees Crowley’s brave face shatter, so he reaches out to take his lover’s hand. Crowley squeezes his fingers but can’t meet his eye.

Now they know what you want, it breaks their hearts that they can’t give it to you.

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #avo’s kt 23 #fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #crowley x reader x aziraphale

112 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 27

27. Wax Play, Glory Hole, Group Sex

The three of you weren’t initially sure about the orgy.

You’re a little possessive of each other. After all, it’s not often that three immortals manage to fall into a functional polycule. You don’t want anything, or anyone, to encroach on that; what you have is perfectly wonderful between just the three of you.

But, time went on, and though you didn’t exactly loosen your grip on each other, there were certain… things that you all came to agree on. Like it might be interesting to watch each other get fucked by different people, if only for the smug confirmation that your partners can do it better.

Besides, you're an adventurous lot. It’s nice to try anything once.

So, one evening in 1856, the three of you finally accept the invitation laid out to you by a friend at the museum - a secretly kinky lot, archaeologists - and find yourselves welcomed into a cosy parlour lit by candles.

You were met by writhing, sweaty bodies and eager, welcoming hands. Hands wishing to explore and caress. So the three of you melted into their embrace.

The thing is, the three of you are very good at sex. You’ve all had enough time to practise. So no wonder people come flocking to you.

You’re laid out on a chaise lounge. On your back you can mostly catch sight of the ceiling, but turn your head to locate your lovers as a man with an impressive girth slides his cock into your mouth. You gasp and choke him down, tears pricking your eyes as you skim the crowd.

“You are a beauty,” mutters the stranger, reaching forward to feel himself fuck your throat from the outside. A beautiful, large woman settles between your legs and slings one of them up over her shoulder before beginning to press her mouth to your sex. You’re already dripping from being fucked by several other people but keen into her touch anyway. She is magnificent with her tongue.

You can see the others, and they’re looking back at you. Crowley’s being taken over the arm of a large velvet chair, cock trapped between the fabric and his own stomach, a woman fucking him with a large faux-penis strapped to her cunt. Her hands are digging in so ferociously to poor Crowley’s hips you’re certain that she’ll leave a mark.

Well, actually, she won’t. Because Crowley’s body doesn’t allow marks to be left unless it’s by you or Aziraphale, in which case he takes great pride in displaying them.

The angel is not too far off from him. A woman is riding his face, moaning loudly as he drags his tongue up and down the soft lips of her pussy, and a pair of men are sharing his thick cock between their mouths.

You’re all enjoying it. It’s nice. But it’s not perfect. You know that you’d be making Aziraphale groan in delight, have Crowley begging to let him come. And they’d take you to ecstasy and back in return.

So the three of you end up coming back together. Your lovers sink into your already stretched and fucked-out hole but you can find one more orgasm in your boneless body to give them. You’re all covered in sweat and come and utterly exhausted, but you all find your climax one more time in each other’s arms: the way it’s meant to be.

You all clean up and leave as the evening’s festivities wind down and the opium is produced. You’re quite exhausted and are sure you can sleep for the next twenty hours if undisturbed.

“Well, that’s ticked that one off the list,” Crowley remarks, and you and Aziraphale nod in agreement.

No need to repeat it, you think. The three of you are happiest together.

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

65 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 19

19. Biting/Scratching, Piercings/Tattoos, Marking

It’s 1667. You’ve just gotten settled again after the great fire devastated London, and Crowley, the utter bastard, is trying to leave.

“No-oo-oo,” you whine, sleepily reaching out to grab him as he gets up that morning. He pats your hand but doesn’t stop moving.

“I’m sorry, nightingale. I’ve got to go. If I start trying to put off hell business they’ll have my guts for garters. Probably literally, actually.”

“I’m sure you can give us ten more minutes,” Aziraphale reasons between yawns.

“Stay with us,” you plead, cuddling up to Aziraphale in bed. Crowley does look very tempted. For a demon, he doesn’t do very well against resisting it.

“I’ll be back soon, alright? I’m sure the two of you can keep each other entertained without me.”

But you have his wrist in your grasp now and, with more strength than he realises you had, you tug him back into the bed.

“Unf—!”

“Then let us give you something to remember you by,” you hum, kissing up the long line of his neck.

Oh, he is powerless between you both.

You bite. If he’s going to leave you want to make sure he has a memento; if you want to leave a mark he’ll let you. You sink your teeth into the hot skin over his carotid, and Crowley chokes and moans under it. Behind him Aziraphale makes short work of the clothes he miracles on, ripping at his doublet before running his fingernails down his front. They’re just sharp enough to leave raised red welts as they go, like claws sinfully tearing into him.

It doesn’t take much to have Crowley gasping, and between the two of you you take him apart. Within half an hour his throat is covered in blooming purple bruises along with his clavicle and the top of his chest, scratch marks along his back and across his firm arsecheeks. Aziraphale’s cum drips from his mouth and the remnants of your orgasm coat his thighs.

“I…” Crowley manages, desperate. You press a kiss to him before settling back into bed.

“Alright, you can go now.”

“But…”

“Wouldn’t want hell to have your guts for garters,” you chuckle, and let yourself drift off.

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

129 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 16

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

“Aziraphale? Crowley?”

“In the back, love.”

You walk into the bookshop’s kitchenette and find your angel making a cup of tea. As if he knew exactly when you’d walk through the door, he passes you a mug of oolong and a kiss at the same time.

“How was your day, my dear?”

“Atrocious. Every day it feels like we’re fighting for our lives. Do you know how bad off museums are with that witch in power at the moment? Honestly I’m glad to just be home with you.”

You step into his open arms and bury your face into his shoulder, sighing in happiness as he presses his lips to your neck.

“Anyway, are we still on for the theatre this evening, angel?”

“Absolutely. I got us front row seats for the opening of Phantom of the Opera tonight!”

You grin at his excitement, then notice a distinctive lack of complaining about, well, going to the theatre tonight.

“Hang on, where’s Crowley?”

“Oh,” says Aziraphale, a devilish grin creeping over his face, “he’s been naughty I’m afraid. You’ll find him upstairs.”

You take your cue to go and have a look. You find Crowley tied to the bed, spread out and tied with silk scarves to each of the four posters. The gag in his mouth makes it impossible for him to speak and he grunts, half in irritation and half in desperation when he sees you. You approach him and remove it, allowing him to talk.

“Finally. I thought you’d never get home.”

“And why are you all trussed up like this, eh?”

“All I said was that I didn’t want to go and see Phantom, and Aziraphale—”

“You didn’t say you didn’t want to see it,” Aziraphale calls, “you kept going on about it all day, at length, until I got fed up with you.”

“Aah, I see,” you hum. Crowley opens his mouth to keep going and you use the opportunity to shove the gag back in place. He baulks and tries to keep talking, but finds himself unable to. You cross over to the bedside drawer and pick out your newest vibrator; take your time to rig it up to press against his tight arsehole and switch it on.

Crowley shrieks against his gag. You’re sure he’s swearing beneath it.

“Aziraphale, shall we go out for dinner too?”

“Oh that sounds lovely.”

You leave Crowley thrashing in the bedroom. You won’t keep him there all night, of course… but a couple of hours should teach him 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

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

87 notes · View notes

avocado-writing · 7 months

Text

Kinktober 15

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

notes: ok time for some tltdatsib-verse lore. you get pregnant when heaven/hell curse you at the exact same time for a baby to take from your husbands. cue wacky baby raising shenanigans.

afab reader.

The twins were not planned.

Of course they weren’t. You’d had unprotected sex with your husbands literally thousands of times and never fallen foul of pregnancy. You just assumed, after so many years of life, it was one of the things that was taken from you with your not-death. And you’d been alright with that. Really. Truly.

Ish.

But when you were blessed - slash cursed, as heaven and hell would see it - with a baby for both of your husbands, you were overwhelmed with happiness. You’d cried as they held you, a positive test gripped in your hand.

Being parents has not been easy. You’re so tired. You’ve been alive for two thousand years and you’ve never been this tired. Oh, the joy of children. But you’d not trade your daughters for the world, not you and your husbands’ joy at the expansion of your little family - you thought your life was perfect, but you realise everything before now was missing a piece.

Babies make five. You think it might be your new favourite number.

You found it difficult to adapt to it at first. Your body was doing new and odd things. But your husbands were nothing but a rock during the entire time, ever so loving and supportive. Even after you gave birth they were a godsend (hilariously). It takes a village to raise a child, or maybe three of you to raise twins.

You were a little worried that your sex life would get a bit dry. It happens with new parents. You were worried they’d find your body strange and changed but, honestly? If anything they’ve been even more attentive to you and your needs. Your evolving human body fascinates and excites them; you can do all sorts of wonderful things with it.

Like this, for instance.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, scarcely able to stay still under them. Your pump had broken, it’s the middle of the night so no shops are open, and the girls are fast asleep — but your husbands had been more than willing to give you a hand, as it were. What you didn’t account for was how pleasurable it would be.

You mewl as they suck. Their mouths are soft on your nipples, needy. As you flower onto their tongues Aziraphale presses his fingers inside your slick cunt, Crowley works your sensitive clit the exact way he knows you love it.

“Shh, darling,” Aziraphale whispers, his mouth glistening as he pops up, “you don’t want to wake them.”

“Then shut me up.”

He grins and reaches in to kiss you. He tastes of your milk, earthy and sweet and warm; he doesn’t stop massaging your breast as his tongue entwines with yours.

“Oh god… I’m… this…”

The feeling of pressure buzzing up from the apex of your legs combines with the relief they’re giving you from your chest and, with a soft cry, you come all over their hands. Crowley groans.

“That’s it, nightingale. Fuck, look at you. You’re just gorgeous, do you know that? Your body is amazing. Can’t stop touching it.”

You collapse as your husbands continue their ministrations. Everything about you is so sensitive.

It is a wonderful thing, to be worshipped as a mother.

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #Fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween #avo’s kt 23

124 notes · View notes