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Language:
English
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Published:
2025-10-01
Updated:
2025-10-14
Words:
1,300
Chapters:
13/?
Comments:
36
Kudos:
33
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694

all i wanna feel's a little chemical rush

Summary:

A collection of 100 word drabbles inspired by the prompts for Ineffable Kinktober 2025, exploring sapphic sex <3

Chapter 1: Wings/Halos

Chapter Text

A searing brand melted deliciously against the pale flesh of Crowley's nape as the angel hung from her halo, which encircled the demon’s throat. She leant back in ecstasy, writhing her hips in rhythm with her lover, their slick folds grinding together with increasing urgency.

Aziraphale’s pearlescent wings erupted as she chased that tantalising friction; Crowley, who had previously been clawing deeply at her shoulder blades, now grappled at the base of each magnificent appendage, using all of her strength to keep her angel from falling backwards. Bodies shook with building tension; moans and cries came together in euphonic discordance.

Chapter 2: Clothing/Tartan

Chapter Text

Fangs pierced the cream, brown and blue tartan fabric, tearing the already low cut hem further; Aziraphale’s ample bosoms spilled out, bouncing with every thrust of Crowley’s lissom fingers inside her throbbing cunt.

The dress had been hiked up past her creamy, thick thighs as the demon had pressed her into the wall. Crowley fisted the cotton as she worked her angel into a fierce, knee buckling, stomach clenching orgasm, and then licked her fingers clean with a satisfied growl.

Crowley enjoyed that tartan dress, how it highlighted Aziraphale’s chest. How could she ever resist such a prettily wrapped gift?

Chapter 3: Somnophilia

Chapter Text

Her body is draped like gossamer, and it takes the breath from my lungs. Her figure is svelte, even more so in this relaxed state of dreaming, her sharp features softened by calm. I trace a fingertip along her abdomen, across each rib, around the swell of her dainty breasts.

Her face is hidden by a curtain of crimson waves, all except for her sinful mouth, the taste of which I will never tire of, though it’s nothing compared to the headiness of these lips, which I part softly with my tongue; she gives a sleep-leaden sigh, and I drink.

 

Chapter 4: Snake/Naga

Chapter Text

Aziraphale lightly traced her tongue in a compelling path along Crowley's jaw, down her long stretch of neck, between each mound of breast, and then swirled in enthralling circles around the flat planes of her stomach.

The snake sigil beside her ear followed, slithering along the wet trail - the jaw, the throat, the bosoms and the abdomen - before settling at her naval, forked tongue flickering downwards enticingly.

Aziraphale tongued the impossible creature, Crowley moaned and shuddered; the tiny snake wriggled from belly to mouth, and curled around its new home at the angel's temple, just as she began to feast.

 

Chapter 5: Bondage

Chapter Text

The silken fabric of Crowley's silver neck piece juxtaposed gorgeously with the tightness of the knots around Aziraphale’s wrists; her palms were tied in mock prayer, hoisted high above her head as she knelt at the altar of her demon lover.

Her arms ached and her fingers twitched as she observed, wantingly, Crowley sink herself down onto their favourite dildo and tweak her own nipples, never breaking eye contact with her angel once.

“Just a little longer, sssweet thing…” she hissed as she pleasured herself. “Jusssst a little longer…”

Aziraphale raised her head to survey the restraint, biting her lip.

Chapter 6: Fire Play

Chapter Text

A snap of slender fingers echoed and a burst of flame flared to life, casting gold and crimson shadows, the only glow in their darkened bedroom. Behind it, a wicked grin curled through the dancing light. A forked tongue traced fanged teeth, accompanied by a low, rumbling laugh. Crowley pursed her lips in slow, deliberate motion and blew softly. The flame swelled, revealing more of her sharp, infernal beauty.

The fire would never harm her, yet Aziraphale shivered - perhaps from anticipation, perhaps desire, but never fear. She trusted her love with everything she had.

“Ready to play with fire, angel?”

Chapter 7: Gags

Chapter Text

“You look so pretty, all sweaty and writhing on my fingers, dear.”

Crowley moaned loudly, thrashing her head from side to side, but it was no use - the bowtie was deeply set inside her jaw, tied tightly behind her head; drool spilled from her mouth and she rolled her hips. Aziraphale pressed her back down. Three fingers were curling inside her walls, a thumb deftly stroking her clit, and she couldn’t do more than keen like a trapped animal whilst her wife monologued by her side.

“Yes, such a pretty thing you are. I could keep you like this forever.”

Chapter 8: The Bentley

Chapter Text

A hiss escaped her as fingers tickled lightly at her collarbone. Then, with one sharp tug, her flimsy black blouse was torn, and soft lips enclosed her nipple. Aziraphale swirled her tongue around Crowley’s hard peak; she gasped, throwing her head back briefly before bringing her glassy eyes back to the road.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, and she inhaled in a sharp breath through clenched teeth. “I’m going to pull over if you carry on.”

Aziraphale hummed thoughtfully, and then sucked in a mouthful of breast before pulling away, saliva on her chin. “Then do, darling.”

Chapter 9: Praise

Chapter Text

Gracile hands grappled the pliant flesh of her waist, thumbs massaging as her rolls danced with every grind. Fingernails carved red crescents into her back, and she plunged down harder onto the realistic dildo that was currently stretching her open. Beneath, Crowley purred encouragement, thrusting her own narrow hips upwards.

“You’re doing so good for me,” she crooned, the toy rubbing her clit each time their bodies collided. “Such a good girl. Taking my cock so well.”

Praise sent lightning to Aziraphale’s cunt; she wept in fervorous bliss, the first of many orgasms ripping a scream from her throat.

“Crowley!”

Chapter 10: Blasphemy

Chapter Text

The angel didn’t like to blaspheme, even after everything, and that included taking the Lord’s name in vain. Therefore, the demon found herself more turned on than ever if she managed to get her to let one tiny word slip from between those luscious, pouty lips… and she knew exactly how to do it.

Bodies slid against each other, legs entwined, cunts grinded against thighs, hands on breasts and throats and hips, everywhere and anywhere. Crowley sank her fangs into Aziraphale’s neck as she simultaneously plucked at a rosy nipple and twisted.

“Oh God!” Aziraphale screamed.

Crowley came hard. “Christ!”

 

 

Chapter 11: Masturbation

Chapter Text

Soft noises were coming from the backroom of the bookshop. A tender ‘ah, ah’ followed by a fragile “oohhh”. And if you listened extremely carefully, say with some sort of demonic sense, you might have heard the accompanying indecent squelch. Slick, fast. Getting faster, slicker. The hot stench of sex lingered in the air.

Crowley was getting wetter by the second as she listened to her angel fuck herself in the other room. Was she thinking of her? Was she imagining her wife’s fingers in place of her own?

Perhaps she would enter, finish her off.

Lick her clean afterwards.

 

 

Chapter 12: Ancient Rome

Chapter Text

The statue was exquisite. It radiated warmth and safety.

A round belly, rolls where she was twisting into position, strong thighs attached to a mouth-wateringly delicious arse. The breasts were heavy, a swell of soft beauty adorned with perfectly pointed peaks. The face was so lovely, so ethereal, that it simply could not be of this world. Cherubim, yet with a sparkle to the eyes that, even in stone, spoke of mischief and intelligence. Fluffy curls framed it all, short yet feminine, cloud-like in appearance.

Crowley could not tear her eyes from it as she touched herself until she came.

Chapter 13: Feeding/Food Play

Chapter Text

Hunger was a curious thing for beings who had no need for it. It shouldn’t have existed at all, really. Hunger led to craving. Craving led to sin.

Crowley stared, wide-eyed, as juices and spit glistened on Aziraphale’s chin. She tore into the ox rib without a shred of dignity, tongue dragging wetly along the bone. Bits of meat clung to her cheeks, and the sounds - guttural, animal snarls - were obscene. Noises of something feral discovering food for the first time. Realising she had been hungry. Starving. Craving.

Crowley was, too, learning what hunger meant. And, oh, did she crave.