Which, do you think, is Aziraphale's fav century? Crowley's?
I think you’ve asked me about Aziraphale before!
“…I think Aziraphale would have quite liked being around in the 1800s, especially once Romanticism got going and there was plenty of books and poetry to read. Also: absinthe. I think it was probably the first thing he told Crowley about once he woke up.”
And as for Crowley I’m sure he’s been enjoying himself more and more as technology has matched on. We know he’s a big fan of the internal combination engine, and I can easily see him falling hard and fast for a smart phone and social media (if he didn’t actually invent either of them).
Your heels clicked against the cracked concrete floor of
Crowley’s throne room. The king’s eyes were on another demon, who stood a few
feet from him, babbling loudly. Pathetic
moron. Most of Crowley’s followers obeyed him out of pure fear. Fear that
he instilled on them with punishment of torture or death, or worse. It was a beautiful iron fist with which he ruled Hell.
And it was fucking hot.
As you approached the babbling idiot, Crowley snapped his
fingers, turning the poor pathetic demon into ashes. You chuckled lightly as
you waved the cloud of ash from the air and approached the king.
“I have numbers, my king.” You stared up at him and frowned,
noticing that he was staring down at his cell phone. Light beeping and booping
noises came from the device. He was playing a fucking game? Ass. “Do you want to hear these or am I
just talking to myself?” Your body stiffened at your words. Damn, you needed a fucking filter.
“Excuse me?” Crowley lifted his eyes to yours. His body
stiffened slightly as his lips curled into a smirk. “Is my brand new assistant
giving me attitude on the first day?” The king licked his lips as his eyes
slowly scanned you.
You walked into the throne room as instructed wearing nothing but a black silk robe. Your husband was seated on his throne; he moved his gaze slowly from your head to your feet and back again as you walked into the room. You saw he’d had a large bed brought in for tonight. It was made of ebony with large square posts at the four corners and red satin sheets.
“Hello, my darling.” Crowley stepped down from his throne and approached you. He tilted your head back and kissed you with a knee weakening thoroughness. His tongue tasted of scotch as he kissed you commandingly. You belonged to him, and he wasn’t going to let you forget it. He released you and turned to walk back to his throne snapping his fingers as he went.
With that command of his fingers, a naked man appeared. He was a completely perfect naked man, demon to be more precise. Every muscle he had was clearly defined. His hair was dark, his eyes a piercing blue. His lips were full and inspired many sinful thoughts; his hands were large and strong. You looked to your lover and king with surprise and confusion. “Crowley, what? Who?”
Crowley met your eyes and held them with his own as he slowly took a sip of scotch. He licked his tongue out over his bottom lip and replied, “You don’t need to know his name. Mine is the only one you’ll be saying.” He looked in the direction of the demon and issued his first order. “Disrobe her.”
The man moved behind you, reached around your waist and untied your sash. Your robe dropped to the floor. “Now, put your hands on her breasts. Hold them, squeeze them. You, my queen, will look at me, only at me.” Crowley continued to enjoy his scotch as he watched. “Kiss her neck and play with her nipples. Flick them. Pinch them. Twist them. Nothing makes her want it more. I want to see her dripping.”
Your husband knew your body and your responses well. You arched your back, your head fell back against the hard muscled shoulder behind you. Your mouth fell open, and your eyes closed. You heard Crowley’s voice deep and raspy with his own desire. “Open your eyes, precious. Look at me. Keep looking at me.” You did as he said. Your mouth was still open; you were panting, hips moving back and forth against nothing.
You couldn’t help the noises that were coming from your mouth. The moans and whimpers were pouring from you as you looked into Crowley’s lust blown eyes. Just as he wanted, your juices were running down your thighs. You looked at him with pleading eyes. “Crowley, please.” Your hips were moving faster now. Your nipples were so tight, you were sure you scream at any moment with the want and need.
Finally, finally Crowley issued the command, “touch her…slowly.” Your clit finally had the contact it craved, but dammit it wasn’t enough. His fingers were barely moving making small circles around your bundle of nerves. Teasing. “Move your fingers up and down. Take them all the way down to her opening, push in slightly, then move back to her sweet spot. Back and forth. Back and forth.”
It was blissful torture, and you didn’t know how much more you could take. “Crowley, Crowley, please, please, pleeeease!”
“Who controls your orgasms, pet? Who gives you all your pleasure?” Your thighs were shaking, and you thought you might fall to the floor unable to stand any longer.
“You do, my king. You do.” Crowley gave a slight nod to the demon who plunged three fingers inside you and moved his thumb rapidly over your clit. You were screaming and coming and coming. Your orgasm went on and on. You would have collapsed had it not been for the strong arms holding you up.
“Take her to the bed.” The demon lifted you and took you to the waiting bed. You were propped up by the many soft pillows beneath you. “Spread your legs, my love. Keep them open wide.” You opened them slowly with a little wobble. Crowley stood and walked to a chair by the bed where he would have a better view. With a hand gesture to the demon, Crowley said, “enter her, and don’t move.” You felt the cock thrust deep inside you. Your walls stretched to accommodate it.
Your hands were on either side of your head fisting the pillows. You heard Crowley continue. “Neither of you will come until I give you my permission. Move. Fast.” The thrusts were deep and angled to hit your g-spot. Then you felt the vibrations against your clit. It was Crowley. You looked at him with tears dampening the corners of your eyes.
“I can’t hold it.” He just smiled at you. The tears slipped from the corners of your eyes. “Crowley, I can’t.”
“You will, Darling, and you’ll be so glad you did.”
The thrusts continued relentlessly. Your teeth were clenched. Your toes were curled, and your whimpers were nonstop. Then Crowley uttered those glorious words, “Come for me, my queen. Come for me.” You saw spots as your climax ripped through you. Crowley stood. “You, off my wife.” You heard what he said, but you were still full. You were fuller than before. You opened your eyes and saw that it was Crowley inside you. You hands let go of the pillows where you had been clutching them, and you wrapped your arms around him.
You hung onto him tightly as he thrust deep inside you seeking his own release. When his thrusts became erratic and you felt him throb and pulse inside you, you came again. “Y/N, Y/N, you are beautiful.” He stroked your hair. “Now, open your mouth for Daddy.” You parted your lips, and he slid his cock slowly into your mouth. He summoned the temporarily forgotten demon back to the bed. “Open her legs and fuck her with your tongue.”
That tongue was fluttering across your oversensitive clit, and you were taking Crowley deep into your mouth. You moved your mouth up and down Crowley’s cock swirling your tongue around his tip then swallowing him back down until he hit the back of your throat. The tongue thrusting in and out of you encouraged your own tongue to move faster. Your hips were rolling again chasing yet another orgasm. Crowley began thrusting in and out of your mouth. You were both getting close. With a grunt, Crowley spurted his salty come into your mouth. You swallowed it down; then licked his length wanting every last drop.
When you had cleaned him off, Crowley moved around behind you and put his arms around you holding you against his chest. The tongue between your legs continued its onslaught of your clit. Crowley was whispering in your ear. “Come one more time, Y/N. Come only for me.” You felt your orgasm building. You grabbed Crowley’s hand and squeezed it. You came calling his name over and over. He kissed the spot behind your ear.
The demon had disappeared and now it was just you and Crowley. You didn’t let go of his hand. Your eyes were still closed. “Are you satisfied, my queen?”
“Yes.” It was all you could say; you were so completely sated.
“You always will be. You are mine. Only mine, and I will take care of you.”
I’m doing it, im writing a fanfic” for Superwholock. I’ve done a plan and everything. I’ve been posted on Authors Note short chapter on AO3 which I will delete when I begin writing properly and publish the first part.. I hope you all enjoy. Ships included;
Amy x Rory
It will be Season 8 Supernatural, Season 5 Doctor Who (with references to Season 6), Season 2 Sherlock.
It’s under the name Into The Fray by FandomObsessedGirl
I am going to hit 18K soon! As a celebration, I’m going to do my biggest challenge yet!
I’ve seen this kink list floating around for over a year now, and I thought I would try my hand at it (I narrowed the 100 down to the 70 I wanted to write). As a fun twist, I will not be writing reader inserts for this particular project. This project will be pairings from the show only!
Here’s how it works:
1. Look at the list under the break and decide what kink you’d like to see given to your favorite SPN ship.
2. Send me an ask with the number of kink and the pairing you’d like (please only send one).
3. I will write ANY pairing from Supernatural (het/slash/femslash), so don’t be shy.
4. In a few days, I will post a list of the kinks and what pairings will be written.
5. Please be patient. I am not going to start this list for a couple of weeks. I’d like to finish the Faking It drabbles, the 20 Different Pairings, and my Bucky series before I start this.
Warnings: this is
just pointless smut (oral sex – female receiving, fingering), and if you have a
fear of elevators… this might bother you? Maybe?
Author’s Note:I have no freakin’ idea where this
came from. It just happened. And I’m not sorry.
You sprinted towards the elevator doors as the ringer
sounded. Finally. Another convention
done. Not that you didn’t enjoy them, but being the main manager of these
events made life… overwhelming. Especially since Supernatural was one of the
largest shows on television.
That meant a lot of people to please, and even more people
to piss you off.
Your back slammed against the far wall of the elevator as
you let out a deep sigh. You unsnapped the top button of your royal blue dress
shirt, shaking it a bit against the heat of the small hotel elevator. Your room
was on the fourteenth floor, which meant you had to endure the heat for at
least another minute or two.
Just before the doors closed, a body slipped into the tiny
room, joining you. Your eyes shifted over to Jensen Ackles, the man you had met
only four months before, when you were promoted to convention manager. He was a
kind soul, quickly becoming your friend.
“You look worse than I do,” Jensen chuckled as he leaned
against the wall, just inches from you. From the moment you two had met, he was
more than willing to burst your personal bubble. You nodded, sliding down the
Crowley had been blustering around hell all day, yelling at demons left and right. Apparently, soul quotas were down, and he was not pleased. You were tired of all the grumpiness, and you knew just how to fix it. It was time for you to be in charge for awhile, specifically in charge of Crowley. He’d be calling himself your Dirty Little whore before the night was over. Oh, yes, you had plans!
You got everything set up in the closet just the way you wanted it. Fortunately, you lived in hell’s palace. The closet was plenty big enough for what you had in mind. You had carefully painted a devil’s trap on the ceiling. Crowley would never see it until it was too late. All the other things you’d be needing were lined up and ready. Your wardrobe of choice for the evening was a low cut black leather dress with a slit up the thigh and high heeled black leather boots.
The sound of the door opening alerted you to the fact Crowley had entered the bedroom. You called to him. “Darling, would you come in here and help me? There’s a box I can’t reach. He was obedient. Good. He came immediately to “help” you. “Hello, my…”. He caught sight of what you were wearing; obviously, there was no box. If there was any doubt of that, the flogger you held in your hand made it perfectly clear. Your boyfriend looked at you appraisingly. “Did you forget I’m the King of Hell?”
Your eyes didn’t waiver from his penetrating stare. “Did you forget you can’t walk out of a devil’s trap?” You tilted your head up, and he followed your gaze. “Bollocks!”
“You’ll be saying much more than that by the time I’m done with you. It’s about time we got your clothes off, don’t you think?” You put down the flogger and practically ripped his jacket off of him as you roughly took his mouth pushing your tongue inside.
You continued to strip him, stopping to admire his flaccid cock. Right about now you weren’t complaining about the extra three inches. But all ten inches of his glory were going to stay just as soft as they were now until you said otherwise. You secured the cock cage around him and locked it hanging the key on a chain around your neck. “Why don’t we start with a little milking, my darling? That’s the beautiful thing about being the King of Hell. You don’t run out of come like a normal man would.”
You pulled a step stool from beneath a rack of clothes. You needed the extra height to secure his wrists with the handcuffs attached to the chain above his head. When he was stretched tight on his tiptoes, you turned your attention to his tightly bound cock. You brushed over it lightly with your fingers everywhere skin was showing. His cock strained against the cage wanting to get hard but was unable to.
You touched your tongue to his tip licking the pre come out of his slit. “Darling, let me out of this bloody thing!” His muscles were straining all over his body; his cock was straining against the cage. His whole body was shaking and pulsing with need. You kitten licked his cock until he came, but there was no relief. His come just fell and pooled on the floor at his feet.
“Look what a mess you made, Crowley. I think you should be punished for that. You took up the flogger in your hand and let it come down across his back. You made swinging motions across his back and over his ass down to his highs and back up again. He screamed his frustration finally yelling,“Take this bloody damn thing off of me!”
“You don’t talk to me like that, Crowley. You are my whore. Your cock belongs to me. Whether or not it receives any pleasure is up to me.” You moved the flogger to his balls and whipped them until they were red. He was coming again, the stream falling from his dick making the puddle at his feet larger. He screamed out with no coherent words pulling at the cuffs above his head.
“ Show mercy, my love, please take it off. Please take it off!”
You ran the vibrator you were now holding along his jawline. “ I will if I feel like it.” You pushed the vibrator against his hole. He was tight. You pushed it in anyway. He cried out, so lost in sensation now he hardly knew pain from pleasure. When you had pushed it all the way inside him and had settled it against his prostate, you turned it on high. He thrashed and bucked against his bonds. Tears were streaming from his eyes as he came a third time.
With each climax that brought him no satisfaction he became ore and more desperate. “No more, my Queen! No more! Please release me. I can’t stand it anymore!” His head was hanging low, chin resting against his chest.
“Remember, Crowley, your cock belongs to me, and I’m not done with it yet.” At that, you attached your mouth to one of his nipples sucking as hard as you could. With your other hand, you rubbed an ice cube across the nipple in need of attention. He begged. He pleaded. He came again.
“I can’t do this! I can’t!” You had reduced the king to a quivering mess.
“Who does your cock belong to, Crowley?”
“You, my queen. It belongs to you.”
“And what are you, Crowley?”
“I’m your whore, your dirty little whore.”
“Do you deserve to be released from this cage?” You swiped the flogger across his ass jolting the vibrator still buried deep inside him.
“No, my queen. I don’t. I’m a whore. My pleasure is yours. You decide when and if I’m satisfied.”
He didn’t notice you take the chain with the key to the cock cage from around your neck. With a click of the lock, he was free and his come was shooting in ropes from his dick. You continued your attentions to his nipples with your mouth, tongue, and the ice. He shot another load, coming and coming. He yelled until he was hoarse.
You unlocked the handcuffs, and he fell to his knees. You pulled the vibrator from his ass, and broke the devil’s trap. “Crawl to bed, my king.” He didn’t look much like a king as he crawled across the carpet toward the bed gasping “thank you” with every breath as he went. He looked much more like the man you had wrapped around your finger, and the one who would be much more pleasant at court tomorrow.
i NEED more blogs to follow my dash is dead. So like or reblog if you blog any of the following AT ALL.
Once Upon a Time
How I Met Your Mother
Buffy The Vampire Slayer
Anything from Marvel or DC comics
Lord of the Rings
Dean smiled as he spotted another note taped to his
apartment door. Every week for the last two months, Thursdays to be exact, he
would find a small blue envelope taped to the center of his front door. He had
no idea what time of day they were left there, since he left for work at seven
in the morning. But, when he returned from work around six o’clock, it was
He pulled the small envelope off the door and slipped it
into the breast pocket of his automotive technician uniform. Then, he unlocked
his door and slipped into the apartment.
The space wasn’t large, but it was his. It had a small,
functional kitchen, a living room, a bedroom, and a small bathroom. And that
was all he needed.
Dean had lived alone for over three years, since his brother
became engaged, and later married, his college girlfriend. Dean had a few
relationships here and there, but none of them felt… right. So, he carried on, working for his long-time family friend’s
automotive shop. His dream job, if he cared to admit it.