inlovewithmycar | open post

[ Crowley does, indeed, appreciate it. The sign of Aziraphale's many hidden depths - the ones Heaven ignored because they took every little thing at face value.

Aziraphale, his soft angel, but also strong and resilient and so very brave; Crowley love him more with every moment.

The attention to his nipple has him arching and writhing in pleasure. It's like Aziraphale knows just how to render Crowley a mass of emotions with pinpoint precision.

Unable to articulate much else aside from the breathless utterings of the angel's name and several nonsensical endearments, Crowley rolls Aziraphale onto his back, one narrow thigh pressed firmly between his legs as he kisses him hungrily. ]

[ Crowley is rather flying by the seat of his pants - metaphorically speaking, given that his trousers have long since been abandoned.

But that doesn't mean it's not enjoyable.

He breaks the kiss, flicking his tongue playfully over Aziraphale's lips before very slowly pulling away. As he draws back into a more upright position, he drags his hands down Aziraphale's chest, over the swell of his stomach and coming to rest on his waist. ]

How about letting me thank you for taking such good care of my hair...?

[ To paint Aziraphale a picture, he grinds his ass down on his cock, letting it brush up against his entrance before sliding up between his cheeks. ]

...And there's still the pumpkin ravioli for when you get a touch peckish.

[Aziraphale makes note of the delightful way Crowley writhes at his touch, adding it to the catalogue of all the other things that have transpired this evening, wanting to commit each one to memory.

When Crowley answers his question with nonsense, Aziraphale can't help but smile, pleased with how he's rendered the demon inarticulate. He'd tease him about that supposed silver tongue, but then Crowley finds his own way to respond, rather effectively in fact, as the angel now has a thigh pressing up against his cock, already hard from their latest bout of kissing and innuendo.

He returns each kiss just as fervently, hands still exploring Crowley's chest, pinching gently at the other nipple.]

[Aziraphale has a bit of a pout as Crowley slowly pulls away from him, although he can't complain about the view. The demon looks resplendent above him, the long braid of his hair adding to his roguish charm. He's about to say so, but Crowley renders him speechless with that grind of his ass on his cock.

Oh, that paints a very pretty picture indeed.]

Darling...

[He rests his hands on Crowley's thighs, staring up in awe as if he can't believe his luck. In the weeks they've been together romantically, they've had each other a number of ways, but it's still all so new that he can't help but wiggle a little in excitement.]

You may find this hard to believe, but food is currently the absolute last thing on my mind.

[ This earns a devilish grin from Crowley. ]

I mean, that's something that has to be seen to be believed. I know how much you love your novelty dishes.

[ Crowley feels the soft, warm pressure of Aziraphale's hand on his thigh, and covers it with his own. Beyond the fact that he may have just found the one thing that might distract Aziraphale from a beloved dish, Crowley is delighted by how happy Aziraphale seems with their new, ...well, arrangement. Love and desire really do complement each other well, he thinks. It's such a far cry from the distant, impersonal Love that Crowley once thought he couldn't live without.

That had been a very long time ago though. This is now.

Crowley entwines his fingers with Aziraphale's and gives his hips another roll, grinding down a second time before lifting them up. With his free hand, he holds Aziraphale's cock steady, giving the angel a cheeky wink as he begins to lower himself down. ]

[ A shudder runs through the demon as his other nipple gets some attention. If he were able to form a coherent sentence, let alone a thought that isn't rubbing every conceivable surface of his corporation against Aziraphale, he might wonder if this is why that horrid little man Shadwell was so convinced three or more nipples were a gateway to rapturous carnal delights.

He might even have concocted a scheme to potentially insinuate he was, in fact, tri or even quad nipples if he ever found himself unfortunate enough to be in the man's presence again.

Fortunately, smothering Aziraphale's throat with kisses is much, much more interesting than harmlessly terrorizing weird fringe fundamentalists.

He seizes Aziraphale's hips in his hands, holding them steady as he gently grinds his thigh between the angel's legs. ]

You know, that miracle may not have gotten you properly cleaned up. Might have to make sssee for myself. Make sure.

[ The flicker of Crowley's tongue against Aziraphale's collarbone should make it very clear just what he's scheming. He certainly wasn't joking when he said he could happily spend an eternity with his head between Aziraphale's thighs. ]

Pumpkin ravioli is not a novelty food, Crowley, they've been making it in Lombardy for hundreds of -- ohhhh, dear Lord --

[Crowley's slow grind is the best sort of distraction, from both food and food-related arguments. The angel has taken to sex with Crowley like a duck to water. The act is not only an expression of his love, but a hedonistic pleasure that he's happy to indulge in. It's a marvel how much joy they can bring one another, simply by fitting their bodies together.

When Crowley lowers himself, the angel gasps and tries not to be overwhelmed by the tight heat that envelops his cock. The hand entwined with Crowley's squeezes while his other slides up Crowley's thigh to hold him loosely at the hip. Until the demon is fully seated upon him, he'll let Crowley set the pace. He isn't the sort to rush, anyway, whether through a good meal or mind-blowing sex.]

Trust me, dearest. My only thoughts right now are of you.

[Thankfully Crowley does not have the wherewithal to remark aloud about Shadwell's nipple obsession. The less Aziraphale has to think about that daft little man, the better. What Madame Tracy sees in him, he has absolutely no idea.

Aziraphale's skin blossoms pink wherever Crowley presses his sweet, hungry mouth. He finally abandons Crowley's nipples to clutch at his upper arms, whimpering softly as Crowley grinds into him. The demon's hands on his hips prevent him from grinding back, and the build up of tension out of his control is absolutely delicious.]

If -- oh -- if you insist...

[He knows exactly what Crowley is insinuating, and in that moment can think of nothing that he'd want more. He even pushes on Crowley's shoulders a little, eager for him to get going.]

[ He might have reminded Aziraphale to perhaps save his blaspheming for outside the bedroom (or wherever else they might see fit to take their business), in case She actually opted to put in an appearance. Fortunately, Crowley is already far too overcome to bother. If their creator decides to answer Aziraphale's call, She'd just have to wait until they were finished.

Crowley is in a state of bliss - Aziraphale's girth stretches him nicely without much in ways of discomfort and he can feel the press of the angel's cockhead right up against that sweet spot. Oh yes, very nice, but a little too good just for starters. He'd like to actually last more than a few minutes, and so there's some awkward shuffling in Aziraphale's lap as Crowley makes some minor adjustments to his own anatomy - just so Aziraphale isn't hitting home with each and every thrust.

Once settled, Crowley takes a moment to admire his lover - and Aziraphale doesn't disappoint (not that he could). He is the absolute picture of indulgence, laid out in the nest of cushions like some Greek god in repose. All he needs is a bowl of fruit and a glass of wine. ]

You look absolutely divine, angel.

[ He rocks his hips experimentally at first, before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. He leans so far, Aziraphale nearly slides out of him, but Crowley pulls back just in time, sinking back down onto his erection until he's buried once more in the demon. ]

[Aziraphale would probably just remind Crowley that if the Almighty hasn't checked in with them by now, it's a safe bet She's either indifferent to the change in their relationship, or silently approving. Not that wants to make a habit of taking Her name in vain, or swearing in general, but Crowley's lovemaking tends to override his sensibilities, always in the best of ways.

His eyes flutter shut, then open again curiously while Crowley adjusts himself upon his lap. He squeezes Crowley's hip once to check in, then blushes at the compliment.]

It must be my love for you shining through.

[He hums happily into the kiss, and as Crowley pulls back to keep him from slipping out, the angel lifts his hips up, ensuring that they remain connected. He holds onto Crowley a little more firmly, but not so tight as to restrict his movements.]

Try kissing me again, darling. I already miss you.

[ Crowley hums, feeling the heat of Aziraphale's want. Angling his head, he nips playfully at his jawline before beginning the agonizingly slow descent down. Crowley makes sure Aziraphale feels every inch of his movement, pressing his body firmly against the angel's erection. When Crowley's head is finally between his legs, he lavishes it with attention - licks and kisses all down the length of Aziraphale's shaft, a light sucking at his balls. The taste of him is incredible to Crowley's heightened senses - the heady scent of lust with just that hint of divinity that makes his nerves tingle. ...And then, Crowley moves on, ever lower. ]

C'mon angel, be a love and get your legs over my shoulders.

[ He lightly pats Aziraphale's thigh to emphasize his point. He wants to really get his tongue as deep as he can, feel Aziraphale writhing against his face, sense the sweet vibrations of his moans. Greedy thing that he is, Crowley wants to taste every delectable inch of him, kiss every crease and crevice. He wants Aziraphale sated, happy, and loved. ]

Edited (dkfalkflk idk how this got cut off ) 2020-06-23 01:47 (UTC)

[The slow, meticulous path that Crowley takes down Aziraphale's body turns the angel into a flushed, disheveled mess. He keeps his grip on Crowley's shoulders, then up into his hair, holding on for dear life as Crowley seems determined to utterly undo him. Oh, the anticipation is marvelous. Any doubts or worries are miles away; he knows that Crowley will take care of him. He's in good hands.

(And mouth. Oh Lord, that mouth...)

It turns out, that thigh pat is necessary, because Aziraphale is slightly past verbal instruction, lost in his own pleasure. With a soft groan, he raises one leg at a time, resting them securely on Crowley's shoulders. His hands remain in Crowley's hair, petting the soft strands restlessly as he keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to be overwhelmed by the sight of Crowley between his legs, mouth lower than it's ever been.]

[ Crowley laughs, already breathless as Aziraphale just bumped that spot when he raised his hips and it leaves Crowley in quite a state. ]

Barely even gone anywhere -

[ He chides between his panting, but he cradles Aziraphale's cheeks anyway, leaning in for another kiss, because how can he refuse Aziraphale this? Or anything for that matter. Indulging Aziraphale's whims is his absolute favourite pastime, and he has no desire to stop now, or ever.

Crowley moves more deliberately this time, slow, careful, making sure his bending forward, making sure Aziraphale remains at least partially inside him. If there is one thing Crowley has to choose what he likes best about how their relationship has progressed, it's the kissing. It's the slow slide of lips as Crowley gets to taste that lovely mouth which does so much with such love. As his forked tongue probes Aziraphale's lips, Crowley begins a slow, somewhat arrhythmic rocking of his hips. ]

[Oh, so that was why Crowley was shifting about earlier. It puts a grin on the angel's face, but he doesn't take advantage. Not while he's trying to coax Crowley back down for another kiss.]

Even a moment without your kisses is an eternity, dearest.

[There's even a doe-eyed look to go with his request. A bit of an exaggeration, perhaps, as Aziraphale does need his mouth for other things, but he loves kissing Crowley any chance he can get, never tiring of its sweet intimacy. He opens his mouth to Crowley's tongue, shivering at the feel of that forked tip, already familiar with how well his demon wields it.

The kisses only partially muffle the angel's moans as Crowley begins to rock his hips, that velvety heat surrounding him sending sparks up his spine. He keeps his hands steady on Crowley's hips, holding off on thrusting just yet, waiting for Crowley to set a rhythm first before he joins in.

[ Crowley murmurs something unintelligible but clearly adoring into the pillowy warmth of Aziraphale's thighs, his lips and teeth sucking and nipping little marks into the skin. And then, with great care, he raises Aziraphale's hips just enough that it's easy for him to get his tongue between his cheeks. And oh, he does, teasing the pink pucker with the forked tip of his tongue without an ounce of mercy. Crowley buries his face deeper into the soft skin, hair tickling the underside of Aziraphale's cock as his head moves with his relentless teasing, the demon making muffled noises of obvious delight. ]

[As soon as Crowley's tongue makes contact with Aziraphale's muscled rim, the angel lets out an involuntary whine, followed quickly by a peal of laughter. His hands leave Crowley's hair, clutching dramatically at the sheets instead while he tries his best not to squirm under the onslaught.]

Oh! Oh, Crowley, your tongue --

[It's not quite a tickle, but it's not the firm pressure of Crowley's fingers or cock, either. Crowley's tongue is even more slick and dexterous, not to mention the noises that the demon is making, like he's devouring the world's greatest dessert, and the feel of Crowley's face pressed against his cheeks. It makes his head swim and his erection throb, but he keeps his fingers tangled in the sheets, wanting to prolong the experience, even if he can't seem to stop giggling over it.]

[ Crowley struggles to get into any kind of rhythm as he kisses Aziraphale. It's difficult to focus on so many things at once, especially when his heart is practically singing every time Aziraphale calls him 'dearest' or outwardly expresses any want for him. It soothes aches almost as old as time, like stepping into a warm bath. If Crowley had his way, he'd never stop kissing Aziraphale.

Gradually he does pick up the pace, sliding himself up and down Aziraphale's cock between hungry kisses. At each downward thrust of his hips, Crowley clenches around him, as though his body doesn't want to surrender an inch of the angel. ]

[ Aziraphale's laughter fills Crowley with an indescribable warmth that has, admittedly, something to do with how aroused he is, but also quite a bit to do with just how freely the angel is laughing. Mirth wasn't exactly rare between them, but like so many other things, it had to be subdued, muted, restrained, quiet. Any time Aziraphale breaks through his years of conditioning Crowley savours.

Crowley gives Aziraphale's thigh an encouraging squeeze as he presses on, just to let the angel know he can laugh and writhe and wiggle to his heart's content. He's got this. Even an involuntary knee to the side of his skull isn't going to put him off his 'meal' and so, with just a slight shift of his corporation's biology, Crowley can get ever deeper, tonguing at Aziraphale's sensitive insides with abandon. ]

[As the pace quickens, Aziraphale's kisses become more like breathless gasps, the exquisite feeling of Crowley clenching around him making him shiver in pleasure. More terms of endearment slip out from his lips, along with praise for Crowley's beauty and movement of his body.

He knows that Crowley is keen on 'rewarding' him for caring for his hair, that gorgeous red braid that hangs over his shoulder and brushes over Aziraphale's skin every time he dips down for a kiss, but the angel is as much a giver as he is a receiver. As Crowley slides downward, he tightens his grip on the demon's hips and thrusts upward, meeting him halfway. Despite Crowley's careful rearrangement of his anatomy, Aziraphale manages to strike that sweet spot within him, somehow inherently knowing how to bring the most pleasure to Crowley with such a simple stroke.]

[Aziraphale gives a whine of understanding when he feels Crowley squeeze his thigh, knowing that he's free to express himself as he desires. And what a wonderful, liberating feeling that is, nearly as intoxicating as the sensation of Crowley's tongue sliding over his most sensitive spots. All the same, he'd rather not accidentally bonk or kick Crowley, so he hooks his ankles firmly at the small of Crowley's back to keep them from flailing around, even as he writhes into the sheets, his laughter interspersed with high-pitched moans.

As Crowley's tongue goes even deeper, one of his hands reaches out desperately towards Crowley, needing a hand to ground him. He's so hard and aching, and for once in all his years of making an Effort, he's tempted to touch himself, but part of him would like to see just how far Crowley can take him on his tongue alone.]

My dear -- my dearest, please -- I need you --

Edited 2020-06-28 14:57 (UTC)

[ Crowley enjoys this new kind of back-and-forth between them. Well, not necessarily new new, the foundations of it were old as the planet itself. Perhaps it's more like a renovation; a new facet to something old and comfortable. This and their earlier discussion broaching the subject of cohabitation has Crowley's thoughts wandering back to a little purchase he made back in the early 19th century to hold all the things he was too sentimental to get rid of, but were too incriminating to have anywhere in his official residence. It would make a very nice home for a couple of early retirees - perhaps he should bring it up over the pumpkin ravioli.

He's not sure why the thought perusing a furniture catalog with Aziraphale is almost as arousing him just as the sweet nothings the angel's muttering, but it's certainly spurring him on to ride the angel as hard as he can. When Aziraphale starts meeting his thrusts, hitting home each time, Crowley's mind is wiped of any idle musings about picking out upholstery with the angel. His breathing becomes quick and erratic, peppering in kisses where he can though it's now mostly mouthing at Aziraphale's lips, jaw, and throat. A little miracle keeps his building orgasm at bay and stops him from spilling all over Aziraphale's belly. Panting and needy, he cradles the angel's face in his palms. ]

Sweetheart, you feel so good in me -

[ Crowley's tongue is relentless in it's exploration - at least until Aziraphale pleads for Crowley. He slides it out so he can press reassuring kisses into the soft inside of Aziraphale's thigh. ]

M'here, angel - tell me how you need me; anything you want at all, I'm yours.

[ He kisses up Aziraphale's thigh into the juncture between his groin and legs, and then nuzzles up against the angel's straining erection. ]

[It would be a surprising reveal for Aziraphale, but not the least bit unwelcome. He'd want to see this cottage as soon as possible -- more specifically, all the items that Crowley has been saving over the years. Aziraphale is very pro-sentimentality, as he's been collecting not only books, but art and curios, filling an entire bookshop with them, and he'd only encourage this in Crowley. They could make a proper home in that cottage, living as humans do (well, the fun parts, anyway).

This is definitely one of the fun parts, Aziraphale taking as much pleasure in Crowley's desperate little kisses as he is in the way the demon rides him like it's Armageddon all over again.]

And you feel like coming home, my darling.

[One of his hands remains on Crowley's thigh while the other slides up and up until he can wrap his fingers around that alluring braid of vibrant red hair.]

You're close, aren't you? I feel you love spilling out of you like starlight.

[Soft whimpers escape Aziraphale, a paradoxical mixture of disappointment and relief, and he struggles to find words, his hand still grasping blindly for Crowley's.]

I -- it --

[It's not simply the novelty of this particular sexual act that has him needing the reassurance. It's that he's so close to climax without having done anything. Is he allowed this? He must be, Crowley is telling him so. More than that, Crowley is giving him the space to ask for what he wants.]

I love you so much, Crowley. Please, don't stop using your tongue. However you like, wherever you like.

[ Crowley feels a touch lightheaded when Aziraphale tells him he loves him in just that tone of voice. His heart is soaring and for the first time in far, far too long, he truly starts to feel loved.

There is the light brush of fingers against his hair and realizes Aziraphale is reaching for him. Adjusting the position of the angel's legs, he fumbles for and clasps the grasping hand, interlacing their fingers. Whatever reassurance Aziraphale needs, Crowley wants him to know it's okay; it's okay to not want something or, as the case may be, to want. Aziraphale isn't selfish or a bad angel for it.

Squeezing his hand, Crowley flashes a grin up at Aziraphale. Wherever he likes, hm? ]

Oh, angel - that is a very long list.

[ As if there were a single centimetre of Aziraphale Crowley wasn't very much inclined to get his mouth on - and he emphasizes that by pressing soft kisses down the length of Aziraphale's shaft, occasionally flicking his tongue out to tease. ]

You're so hard right now - tell me, love; do you need a little extra push?

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