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[depraveddame]

200 years of Crowley, from Rembrandt to Lawrence. 😈

[depraveddame]

Ineffable Prompt A-Thon, Week 7: Whisper

Happy Friday 💖 I hope everyone’s week has been lovely!

I am back with another filthy one shot for my human AU inspired by @ineffablyruined’s weekly Ineffable Prompt A- Thon, which I am calling The Arrangement ✨ Last week’s prompt was Unraveled, and this week’s is Whisper, resulting in this smutty fic of needing to be quiet in a confined space 👀🔥

This is another spicy one, darlings! Do check out the rest of the tags on ao3 💖✨ and thank you all for your wonderful support of these two. It means so much and it is such a joy to share them with you!

Tags: Human AU, free use, free use Crowley, Dom Aziraphale, sub Crowley, dirty talk, praise and degradation, lots of objectification, workplace sex in a closet, confined space sex, anal sex, barebacking, cream pie, butt plugs, and more!

Excerpt:

“Hush, darling,” the hand clamped over Crowley’s mouth smells like rich hot chocolate and books, and he’s tempted to lick the warm palm blanketing the seam of his lips, “I believe I was quite clear; this only works if you are very, very quiet. Only whispers, sweeting, can you do that for me?” Crowley chokes on a sob, barely able to concentrate on anything Aziraphale says while his thick fingers are hooked inside him and insistently caressing his prostate in time with grinding his clothed cock against the back of Crowley’s thigh, a devious tease, a dangled promise, “can you be a good free use slut for me and do as you’re told?”

Crowley blinks a few tears from his eyes as he nods, brokenly whimpering under his breath as Aziraphale uncovers his mouth, “f-fuck, ‘m sorry sir, just feels so good.”

“I know, love,” Aziraphale murmurs sympathetically as he continues petting that sweet spot that has Crowley literally leaking down his inner thigh and holding in a whine so desperate it could surely result in discovery, “I know, it feels so lovely to finally be filled again, doesn’t it? How long has it been— eight hours? Ten? What an eternity; you poor thing.”

The lick of shame and embarrassment that washes over Crowley just makes all of this better— the implication that even though Aziraphale had fucked Crowley early this morning before they both left his flat, it hadn’t been enough to sate him; he’d been aching for Aziraphale only hours later, the curved metal plug nestled inside him only amplifying the lack of something bigger, something thicker with every hurried step Crowley had taken since starting his shift.

“Now, listen to me, Crowley, and mind you listen well,” the soft growl is accompanied by gentle kisses to Crowley’s neck and jaw from behind, delicate, nipping things that make him clench around the fingers playing with him, “I’m going to fuck you right here in this little closet, and you can whisper how good my cock feels inside you if you need to, you can whisper to me how thankful you are for it, but you cannot moan, you cannot cry out no matter how hard I choose to use you, and you mustn’t yelp if you come,” Aziraphale starts punctuating every few words with the thrusting depth of his fingers, and fuck this is going to be a monumental struggle, “if you do, I’ll not be able to visit you at work anymore for this purpose— I won’t risk jeopardizing your position here, my perfect pet. Do you understand?”

*

Continue on AO3!

@goodomensafterdark

[depraveddame]

Ineffable Prompt A-Thon, Week 6: Unraveled

This is my next entry to @ineffablyruined ’s delightful weekly prompt Unraveled ✨ it is a sequel to my previous fic Mistaken Identity!

This is a spicy one, friends! Do check out the tags on ao3 💖✨

Tags: Human AU, texting, Dom Aziraphale, sub Crowley, fishnets, dirty talk, praise and degradation, first kiss, first time, oral sex, anal sex, floor sex, objectification, and more!

Excerpt:

As discussed, there is no knock announcing Aziraphale’s arrival— the only warning Crowley receives is the click of the lock sliding out of its place as his door handle is turned, but still, he jumps, heart taking up residence in his throat and fighting to swallow around its accelerated beat, which is quickly escalating to a breakneck speed.

He’d considered waiting for Aziraphale on his knees, but it’s too late to do so now as his door gradually opens, first just a crack and then all the way, and Crowley is met with the sight of the man that’s fast become his sole source of thought for the last 12 or so hours.

Crowley’s newly acquired faith is further reinforced as he takes in all of Aziraphale, who is, by all rights, gorgeous. He’s shorter than Crowley, but not by much, especially since he’s barefoot and Aziraphale is wearing low heeled boots. He’s wearing a sky blue button up under a beige blazer, and his shirt buttons are undone by his collar; Crowley can see a hint of curling chest hair there. His trousers look nearly identical to the ones in the photo he’d sent Crowley last night, and he wonders if they’re the same pair.

Aziraphale’s eyes remind Crowley of whatever gemstone it is that’s a clear, delicate blue (he can’t remember what it’s called), and his blonde curls are so pale they’re nearly the hue of pearls— it gives him a rather cherubic appearance overall, as do his round, flushed cheeks. There’s a hint of darker stubble framing his jaw, which sets noticeably as those lovely eyes flit all around Crowley’s body, lightning quick at first and then much more languidly, a glint of steel flashing behind blue, a rush of heated, metallic lust.

Crowley can hardly even comprehend that the man is here when Aziraphale steps into his flat, takes the three steps to close the distance between them, wraps an arm around his waist, strong and sure and possessive, closes the door with his other hand, and then they’re kissing.

He isn’t one for food, Crowley, most of the time. He loves his coffee and his scotch and the occasional sweet, but otherwise, he’s never really felt the hollow pang of hunger like others talk of; however, that changes within the millisecond of Aziraphale’s mouth latching onto his, and then Crowley really understands what it is to be hungry for something— what it means to be starving.

*

Continue on AO3!

@goodomensafterdark

[depraveddame]

Ineffable Prompt A-Thon, Week 5: Mistaken Identity

This is my entry to @ineffablyruined’s delightful weekly prompt Mistaken Identity ✨ hope you enjoy!

Excerpt:

Crowley didn’t notice he’d input the mobile number of the man he’d been chatting with online incorrectly into his own phone, but he did notice that it was taking quite a while longer than he anticipated for a reply to the nude he’d sent.

It’s a Thursday night, well past 1AM and Crowley is tired, but he’s agonizingly needy, too. He’s not had a proper fuck in weeks— work has been ridiculously busy, he’s been lucky to stay awake for an hour or two instead of passing out almost as soon as he’s home— and he’s fairly certain he’ll lose his mind completely if he doesn’t get railed into the mattress/sofa/ground within a few days.

Things are getting dire.

He and the user he’s been chatting with off and on for a couple of hours seem to have some chemistry, and the man is dominant, which is the most important thing to Crowley at the moment (well, that and a big cock— he’s nothing if not a size queen, but beggars can’t be choosers— he’ll take anything at this point, but he is admittedly dying to see just how well endowed the prospective hookup is). He needs taken out of himself, he needs someone to calm his mind that‘s constantly buzzing with more fervor than the busiest of beehives, and besides alcohol, sex is the best way to smoke out that relentless chatter.

But as he lounges there on his bed, naked save for the pair of widely woven fishnets he likes to wear sometimes for taking slutty selfies, the buzzing grows louder and starts to sting while his text message goes unanswered for two, three, five minutes.

Crowley frowns, perplexed and more than a little insecure. The man has been very responsive on the app, almost annoyingly so, and he’s surprised he’s not gotten an answer to the photo he’d sent of himself. Said picture shows him laying on his side, twisting and arching his lower back, showing off his trim waist and highlighting the small yet undeniable curve of his ass, the crisscrossing weave of the black netting over his skin showing off how pale he is. It’s a decent one, Crowley thinks, and he knows he’s not very young anymore, he’s perhaps not the sort of subby bottom every dom top is looking for, but still, he’s relatively sure he looks alright for pushing 40 (even though that is considered geriatric by many).

He’s just trying to decide what to do— send another text, message the guy online, turn his phone off and furiously get himself off on his own— when said phone vibrates. He clamors to swipe up the screen with an eager thumb, and if blood can truly drain from your face, Crowley feels the chill of it sliding down his veins as well as the bottom of his stomach dropping out of his body along with it.

Forgive me, but I do believe you intended this photograph to reach another number other than this one, my dear.

Ffffffuck.

*

Continue reading on AO3!

@goodomensafterdark

[depraveddame]

[depraveddame]

The second chapter of my omegaverse fic Tempt, is up!

Hello all 💖 This immediately follows the first chapter after omega Crowley returns home after visiting a glory hole in a sex club and getting his mouth fucked and knotted by alpha Aziraphale, where we find out he's the mate of Lucius (my Lucifer in AUs) and they're in a lovingly passionate polyamorous relationship. He finally gets the knot he's craving and we find out a bit more about Aziraphale in this universe as well as Lucius.

CW’s: Vaginal knotting, Daddy kink, sub bottom Crowley, Dom Lucifer, top Lucifer, polyamory, open relationships, jealousy/possessiveness kink, scent kink, cunnilingus, dirty talk, slight slut shaming, mafia/organized crime AU, slight feminization

Excerpt:

“Oh, baby,” he murmurs, his voice as velvety as the caramel that drips from it, and his pupils are expanding, they’re nearly obscuring the green of his irises, “someone’s worked my demon up into quite a frenzy, haven’t they? How many times did you come— three?”

“Twice,” Crowley whimpers as he kicks his stilettos off and climbs onto the massive bed to crawl on top of Lucius, straddling his hips and immediately grinding down onto him as he bends to kiss his inked neck with a mouth so needy to be occupied despite the soreness of his jaw, the smoky sweet taste of his alpha’s fragrant skin both a balm and accelerant to his want.

It’s a relief to be so close to his mate even after a few hours apart, it’s a marrow deep righteousness that even temporarily soothes the cavernous ache inside as his slick drenched inner thighs bracket massively strong ones, as he sinks down into his lap and blankets the hardening length of Lucius with his cunt. His alpha keeps breathing deeply as the thunder in his chest grows louder and more primal, and Crowley knows he’s smelling the alien alpha scent clinging to him, he’s cataloging the notes and memorizing the pheromones mingling with his own.

The way his purr blooms into an envy tinged yet feral growl as his cock twitches between Crowley’s legs is a rather decent indicator that he likes this particular cocktail of aromas; he clenches in response as Lucius starts luxuriously licking his neck between drawing calculating breaths through his nose, no doubt tasting the remnants of Aziraphale’s come that had escaped from Crowley’s mouth as he’d knotted it, his mouth a hungry inferno all over Crowley’s sensitive skin. He lifts his head to rest against Lucius’, granting him better access to his neck and jaw, his own gently humming purr peppered with whines and mewls as he keeps chasing delicious friction with shakily rocking hips.

*

Continue on AO3!

I know this isn’t eveyone’s cup of tea but if you read it I hope you’ll enjoy it! I’ve been in love with Crowley/Lucifer as a pairing but haven’t seen them in positive healthy relationships, so I have set out to change that 😂✨

@goodomensafterdark

[depraveddame]

Galactic Collision, the next part of my professor/student AU, is up and featuring✨Impact Play✨ and this insanely hot illustration by @zivilzz 🔥

Astrophysics student Crowley adores impact play; he loves the intensity of the sensations, he loves the quiet calm it brings to his constantly revolving mind via carnal pain, and he loves it the most at the hand of his dominant Professor Fell. However, sometimes it can be a little too cathartic in the sense that it brings that which he’d rather keep hidden to the surface until he can’t ignore it— sometimes secrets can just burst out of him as a result, no matter what he does.

CWs: D/s, Dom/gentle Dom Aziraphale, sub Crowley, Daddy kink, age difference, university professor/university student, impact, belting, caning, anal sex, barebacking, love confessions, obscene dirty talk, praise/light degradation, begging, emotional sex, aftercare/sweetness/fluff- please read tags on AO3 for more!

Excerpt:

He’d carefully looped the belt and held it out for Fell, who purred as he took it from him, “thank you, my dear boy. Undress, but leave on whatever inevitably slutty lingerie you’re wearing, and get onto the bed; hands and knees, back arched, legs spread.”

And that was how they inevitably found themselves in their current positions.

The next strike is particularly harsh, catching Crowley just beneath the swell of his ass on a sensitive stretch of his throbbing thighs, and his yelp trails out into a hiccuping sob as the heaviness between his legs grows along with the emptiness inside him. He shifts his knees on the bed as much as the thong caught around them will allow (bright cardinal red, simply cut but eye catching and, as Fell correctly assumed, slutty), forcing a gradual breath out through his mouth as he savors the stinging tendrils of pleasure slinking all over him.

Crowley loves everything about this; he loves the percussive, rhythmic slap of leather wrapping around his thighs, he adores the burning impact that melts into a glowing warmth that then seeps beneath his skin and flows through his body just like his blood; he craves the relief that it brings, he aches for the quiet that blankets his constantly racing mind, and he longs for the way he goes boneless after the tension of being struck fades into malleable pliancy. He’s obsessed with how Fell plays him like an instrument custom made for him and him alone, how he can wrench agonized wails from Crowley just as easily as he can draw wanton, whimpering moans depending on the angle, force, and speed of his strokes; he can have Crowley shying away from anticipated blows as he begs for a reprieve just as effortlessly as he can make him arch into them and plead for more.

*

Continue below!

@goodomensafterdark

[depraveddame]

Galactic Collision, the next part of my professor/student AU, is up and featuring✨Impact Play✨ and this insanely hot illustration by @zivilzz 🔥

Astrophysics student Crowley adores impact play; he loves the intensity of the sensations, he loves the quiet calm it brings to his constantly revolving mind via carnal pain, and he loves it the most at the hand of his dominant Professor Fell. However, sometimes it can be a little too cathartic in the sense that it brings that which he’d rather keep hidden to the surface until he can’t ignore it— sometimes secrets can just burst out of him as a result, no matter what he does.

CWs: D/s, Dom/gentle Dom Aziraphale, sub Crowley, Daddy kink, age difference, university professor/university student, impact, belting, caning, anal sex, barebacking, love confessions, obscene dirty talk, praise/light degradation, begging, emotional sex, aftercare/sweetness/fluff- please read tags on AO3 for more!

Excerpt:

He’d carefully looped the belt and held it out for Fell, who purred as he took it from him, “thank you, my dear boy. Undress, but leave on whatever inevitably slutty lingerie you’re wearing, and get onto the bed; hands and knees, back arched, legs spread.”

And that was how they inevitably found themselves in their current positions.

The next strike is particularly harsh, catching Crowley just beneath the swell of his ass on a sensitive stretch of his throbbing thighs, and his yelp trails out into a hiccuping sob as the heaviness between his legs grows along with the emptiness inside him. He shifts his knees on the bed as much as the thong caught around them will allow (bright cardinal red, simply cut but eye catching and, as Fell correctly assumed, slutty), forcing a gradual breath out through his mouth as he savors the stinging tendrils of pleasure slinking all over him.

Crowley loves everything about this; he loves the percussive, rhythmic slap of leather wrapping around his thighs, he adores the burning impact that melts into a glowing warmth that then seeps beneath his skin and flows through his body just like his blood; he craves the relief that it brings, he aches for the quiet that blankets his constantly racing mind, and he longs for the way he goes boneless after the tension of being struck fades into malleable pliancy. He’s obsessed with how Fell plays him like an instrument custom made for him and him alone, how he can wrench agonized wails from Crowley just as easily as he can draw wanton, whimpering moans depending on the angle, force, and speed of his strokes; he can have Crowley shying away from anticipated blows as he begs for a reprieve just as effortlessly as he can make him arch into them and plead for more.

*

Continue below!

@goodomensafterdark

[depraveddame]

How did you get this photo of me

[depraveddame]

🥹💖✨ one of my most favorite things about writing smut and kink.

you know those tropes where you come across them and are like Hard No Thank You but then you see the author’s name and are like… 😒 i will read this FOR YOU 😒…

[depraveddame]

Had I not put these on tumblr yet??

@goodomensafterdark

[depraveddame]

Zenith, a sequel to my kinky D/s Professor AU A Great Conjunction, is posted!

Hello darlings! I'm back with another installment of my feral professor and student AU ✨ After six weeks of beautifully agonizing waiting, Professor Fell realizes he cannot wait a second longer to properly fuck his student- he also realizes some of the reasons why he's been denying himself and his lover for so long, and that he also can't lie to himself for much longer.

CWs: D/s, Dom/gentle Dom Aziraphale, sub Crowley, Daddy kink, age difference, university professor/university student, first time anal sex after weeks of denial, rimming, pining, obscene dirty talk, praise/light degradation, begging, emotional sex, aftercare/sweetness/fluff- please read tags on AO3 for more!

Excerpt:

Perhaps Aziraphale’s aptitude does lie in his fingertips, but not by way of putting pen to paper; maybe it’s by touch that he’s meant to extol his student. It comes wonderfully easily to him, praising Crowley with his hands, and the response his fingers inspire seems to indicate he’s far more adept when it comes to this form of veneration rather than the written word.

As they face each other on the bed, Aziraphale scrawls his reverence over the curves and angles of Crowley’s body with fingers and thumbs that pay homage to his allure, his mouth inscribes its devotion and admiration on every freckle it can find and over each peak of bone that protrudes from argent skin, the invisible ink from his tongue leaving behind ephemeral, evaporating verses Aziraphale hopes will bleed beneath the surface of the vellum folio of his lover.

“How do you want to take my cock for the first time, my darling,” Aziraphale murmurs as he palms the dampened lace caging Crowley’s cock and the fingers of his other hand caress his slick entrance, teasingly dipping one past the ring of lax muscle and basking in the strangled whines that follow, "how will I first stake my claim of this body that's been positively aching to take me inside, that's been desperately pleading with me to make a home of it?"

“Oh, f-fuck,” Crowley pants, his entire body jolting as Aziraphale’s fingers play with him, “God, fuck— f-from behind. Laying down. Want you close, professor, and deep— fuck, I need all of you so fucking deep inside, please.”

*

Enjoy ♥️

@goodomensafterdark

[depraveddame]

God the way this is exactly how I picture my prof AU student Crowley…

[depraveddame]

seeing men on their knees awakens something so primal within me. Like it’s borderline pathological

[depraveddame]

Tempt, my omegaverse glory hole fic, is now posted!

It was inevitable, perhaps, that I’d dip my toes into omegaverse- I’m easily squicked by a lot of common omegaverse elements, so I’ve changed a lot of typical tropes in order to create more of what I have been referring to as my ‘hedonismverse’- a modern day omegaverse that's evolved as far as sex and pleasure with little to no emphasis on reproduction. No angst for once 😂 everyone is happy, healthy, and horny as fuck.

Some CWs: omegaverse, alpha Aziraphale, omega Crowley, D/s, glory hole, oral knotting, wet & messy, praise/degradation/humiliation, implied open relationships/non monogamy, scent kink, boot grinding - please read the rest of the tags on AO3 for more!

Excerpt:

His companion smells fucking divine— Crowley’s mouth waters like a slutty fountain as he breathes in deeply and takes in the fragrance of dark, sweet cocoa that’s spiked with cayenne pepper and something jammy on the end, like a lush, full bodied red wine of some sort, blackberries or currants crushed in a glass that’s been stained with the blood of its juice and doused in the tannic kiss of wine and chocolate. It’s all wrapped in the heady scent of want, it’s cloaked by the musky, smoky quality of alpha pheromones and the clear, overarching note of I’m going to ruin you, omega, and you’ll thank me for it.

And Crowley will— he most certainly, certainly will.

The shoes finally make their way to stand in front of the wall between them, and the open space beneath shows Crowley black leather and grey tartan tweed balmoral boots— they’re expensive and beautiful, undoubtedly bespoke, and his tongue itches with the desire to slide along the contour of their toes.

“I—” there’s a beat before the alpha continues, and the hesitation of an internal conflict registers in Crowley’s sensitive ears, “forgive me, I don’t wish to assume or offend, but I must ask— you’re here of your own volition, am I correct? You’re not being…coerced in any way, to be here, yes?”

Even his voice is delicious, Crowley thinks before he registers he’s being asked a question, and his brow furrows. He’d just been about to beg for this stranger to please get on with it and fuck his mouth, but the hint of nervousness that permeates the arousal in the room has him pausing— for the first time, he picks up on the smell of old, well worn leather, and maybe something earthy and woodsy— perhaps paper.

Books.

“First time at an upscale sex club?” Crowley asks loftily, a little incredulous. It would be very unlikely for someone inexperienced in the scene to be accepted for membership here, but it could happen, he supposes, with the right sway.

There’s a slight, huffy scoff that borders on irritated above him.

“First time at this particular establishment, yes,” the voice continues, and Crowley would categorize its tone as lightly irked as well as anxious, “and while things have improved exponentially within the last two decades or so for such things, I know you’re an omega, and while this business seems extremely reputable thus far, you’ll have to indulge a jaded old alpha who has seen far too many of your gender forced into similar situations they’d rather not be in.”

Crowley sits stunned for a few seconds, nonplussed, as he considers the alpha’s speech.

I hope you’ll enjoy this slutty and smutty fic!

@goodomensafterdark

[depraveddame]

Chapter 20 of Vine Slips of a Strange God is up— and part one of this fic is now complete.

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned,” Aziraphale murmured, the laughter having been chased away and replaced with a brutally pervasive fear, “it has been…years, since my last honest confession, and these are my sins.”

(Don’t— he doesn’t need to know everything Just end it.)

“I am burdened with lust,” he whispered, ignoring himself, “I am plagued with covetous desire— I’ve welcomed Wrath and other deadly things into my heart along with it, and I,” his voice trembled and cracked, “I want someone. I want them more than I want to serve my God.”

Enjoy, darlings.

@goodomensafterdark

[depraveddame]

Crowley as Penitent Magdalene by Mateo Cerezo