questionablewit: (snark)
[personal profile] questionablewit posting in [community profile] faemused

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Date: 2019-09-11 05:21 pm (UTC)
sohoangel: (dawning realization)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
Aziraphale makes a soft sound of surprise as they veer off-course, but otherwise doesn't protest, letting Crowley lead them towards Soho Square. Why the change? It's a nice enough park, even at night, a small oasis of greenery in an urban landscape, but Crowley had seemed eager to go to the bookshop before. Had he changed his mind about the kiss?

Oh... oh, no, he hadn't. He intends to do it here. Aziraphale's lashes flutter at the feeling of Crowley's thumb brushing over his lips, his breath catching in his throat. This isn't the back of his bookshop or a discreet gentleman's club or a hidden rendezvous spot. Even with the diversion of attention, they're out in the open, exposed to God and humanity and everything in between.

He can't think of a better place.

"Yes." He brings his face, his whole body closer, until the space between them is negligible. "Yes, please."
Edited Date: 2019-09-11 05:24 pm (UTC)

Date: 2019-09-11 08:31 pm (UTC)
duckshaveears: (~ one dark wing)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
It does fit, Crowley thinks distantly. Mostly his motivation is impatience, but it does fit. Under the night sky, in the light of stars he helped make once, long ago before things began. In the open air, in defiance of anyone who might be watching or judging. In London, where they've both rotated around each other for the past two hundred years. Longer. They've always been moving towards this.

The last second before their mouths meet seems to take an eternity, and for every bit of it Crowley is convinced something will interrupt, go wrong, change, explode, something. The shock of his mouth meeting Aziraphale's is more that is succeeds at all than from the feel of it.

The first kiss is little more than a touch and a breath, and then a pause.

Then he all but flings his arms around the angel, his mouth opening against Aziraphale's with an incoherent, needy noise as he pulls him as close as their corporeal forms will allow.
Edited Date: 2019-09-11 08:31 pm (UTC)

Date: 2019-09-12 01:43 am (UTC)
sohoangel: (that's a relief)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
That is a benefit of being patient, perhaps, of already waiting so long for this to happen, that Aziraphale is ready when their lips meet, that soft touch in the span of a single breath, like the kiss at the end of a gavotte. Thank you for this dance, this orbit we've been spinning in. For leading and for following, always together.

He has but a moment to savor that sweet and simple kiss before Crowley is all but crashing into him, and oh, here are the fireworks, the sparks, the metaphors that poets pile on but can't quite capture the indescribable feeling that shivers through him as he wraps his arms about Crowley in turn, that needy sound echoed with one of his own.

He keeps his mouth soft and open, bravely exploring this new sensual pleasure. It is so blessedly good. He never wants to stop, he wants to stay like this forever, fingers gripping the back of Crowley's jacket, their bodies pressed together so that nothing can come between them.

Eventually, though, it does end, only so Aziraphale can whisper into the space between their lips, "My dear, you are the most wonderful thing I've ever had the pleasure of putting my lips to."
Edited Date: 2019-09-12 01:44 am (UTC)

Date: 2019-09-12 11:10 am (UTC)
duckshaveears: (+ listening)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
Crowley wants to laugh. He also wants to sob, to split into a thousand pieces and scatter himself across the sky, to drive around the city as fast as he can, and to stay completely, utterly still.

He leans forward, resting his head against Aziraphale's, smelling his breath, the angel's taste still lingering in his mouth. There's still a pull towards Aziraphale's lips as strong as any suction from a black hole, and Crowley resists just for the moment because this time he knows the resistance is temporary and therefore sweet with anticipation of more. "Better than crepes?" he teases, still breathless. His hands are splayed on Aziraphale's black, one between the shoulderblades and the other at the base of the spine, and there's no space between them at all.

Date: 2019-09-12 01:48 pm (UTC)
sohoangel: (to the world)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
Aziraphale hold him close, the grip on his jacket easing so he can smooth the fabric beneath his fingers. He feels like a flock of doves that has finally come home to roost, a cacophony of wings and feathers swirling and settling inside of him, crowding up together into a downy ball of warmth.

He laughs softly into that little space between them, his breath warm and sweet with a lingering note of sake. "Better than crepes," he murmurs. "Better than brioche." He presses a kiss to the corner of Crowley's mouth. "Better than my first taste of honey, my first sip of wine, my first bite of fruit." His voice trembles, not from uncertainty, but the sheer joy of sharing this with Crowley. "Better than anything."

Date: 2019-09-12 03:35 pm (UTC)
duckshaveears: (+ smile)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
Better than anything certainly sums up Crowley's opinion of these proceedings, and the best way he can show it is with another kiss, just as enthusiastic but slower. He nips at Aziraphale's mouth, teasing it open again, slipping his tongue in to explore. His hands slide up Aziraphale's back, then down again, coming to rest on his hips.

And then another kiss, and another, until he's dizzy with them, much more intoxicated than he was by the sake, and somewhere in the middle he manages to say, very quietly, "Love you too. Hadn't said yet."

Date: 2019-09-12 05:34 pm (UTC)
sohoangel: (oh yes)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
As Crowley takes advantage of Aziraphale's open mouth, the angel realizes helplessly that he was wrong before. This kiss is better than anything, and the one after that, and the one after that... he loses count, swept up in the slick tenderness of Crowley's lips and tongue, the hands that chase the shivers that run rampant up and down his back.

And then Crowley says that he loves him, and the doves in his heart are all a-flutter, a wild beating of wings against his chest. He feels like he might discorporate, and leans into Crowley that much more, chasing each kiss as if it might be the last.

When they take another break, he's flushed and disheveled, like he's just gotten out of Crowley's Bentley after another harrowing speed race through downtown. Excepting he's smiling, practically glowing. Scratch that, he may actually be glowing a little. "I know you do. It's wonderful to hear. And to say. I love you, darling."

Date: 2019-09-12 11:08 pm (UTC)
duckshaveears: (~ long hair)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
"Always did." The words just spill out of him now, centuries upon centuries of their being held back now suddenly ended, and he couldn't stop if he tried, which he doesn't. "Always. Since the blessed garden, even, that first day on the wall when you thanked me and asked for my name and sheltered me with one of your wings. That long, angel."

And then another kiss, another, maybe they'll tell his side of the story better than these words do. None of it seems to be enough.

Date: 2019-09-13 12:52 am (UTC)
sohoangel: (dawning realization)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
"Crowley..." The words stun him, leave him breathless even before Crowley starts kissing him again. He feels that maddening beat of wings again, except it's his own wings, itching to free themselves from the astral plane and wrap around Crowley, to give him that love and shelter he had craved ever since Eden.

He slides his arms from around Crowley's shoulders so he can cup his face with both hands and delicately stroke the sharp angles of his cheeks. "I'd give that to you now," he says in the gap between one kiss and another. "If we weren't standing in the middle of Soho Square."

Date: 2019-09-13 04:25 pm (UTC)
duckshaveears: (| Az St. James)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
They've tried to go easy on miracles lately, keeping to small things, the sort that won't draw attention from people they would really rather keep ignoring them. But there are limits.

Crowley doesn't stop kissing Aziraphale, because he can't, wouldn't if he could but he can't, not after so much time spent trying to get to this point and never managing it. But one of the hands pressed up against the angel's back let's go, shakes itself out, snaps fingers, and then they're just outside the bookshop. Can't appear inside directly, there are wards and protections up to prevent that sort of thing, but outside he can do.

It drains him, and he sags a little in Aziraphale's embrace, but it's worth it. And if some humans notice two people suddenly appearing and disappearing...fuck it, it's London. All sorts of weird shit happens in London, everyone knows that, especially Soho.

He's still kissing Aziraphale. He'll never stop unless he has to, or is asked.

Date: 2019-09-13 05:04 pm (UTC)
sohoangel: (this is fine jk i'm freaking out)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
Aziraphale braces himself instinctively when Crowley teleports them, so it's no bother to keep Crowley upright. He recognizes the wards and protections of his shop, as they're his own handiwork, and door opens easily to his silent request for it to open.

It's still a struggle to get inside, what with him not wanting to stop kissing, either, and the inherent clumsiness of two people trying to get through a doorway together, one forwards and one backwards, but they manage, and as soon as they're through, the door slams shut. Aziraphale leaves the lights off, his only desire to get to the clear open space in the middle of his shop.

Once there, he manifests his wings. Magnificent and pristine, stretching out to their full span before wrapping themselves around Crowley, a cocoon of gleaming white feathers. Distracted as he is by Crowley's mouth, he overcompensates for the demon's slacked weight and loses his balance, tipping forward with a muffled note of alarm. Whoops!

At least his wings will cushion their fall.

Date: 2019-09-13 11:12 pm (UTC)
duckshaveears: (+ lip bite)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
Crowley's had dreams like this, where he's kissing Aziraphale, where Aziraphale is kissing him back, where they're surrounded by wings and in their own world, and even dreams where they stumble and Aziraphale just falls on top of him so he has an armful of soft, warm, much beloved angel stretched along the length of his body. And this is all those things at once. It's a wonder Crowley doesn't discorporate on the spot. It's also a good thing neither of them really needs to breathe.

A very good thing, because it means that after the initial break of surprise and impact, he can just pick up right where he was: kissing Aziraphale. But Christ, it's better like this, in private, and lying down where he can just twine his leg around like this, and wrap his arm around Aziraphale's waist like this to pull him even closer, and then reach up with his other hand and caress those wings, the soft arc of them above his head..."Fuck, angel--" he manages, somewhere in the midst of all this, utterly overwhelmed and not wanting to change anything about it. Not a thing. "Have you any idea, any idea at all--" He can't finish the sentence. Aziraphale's mouth is in the way. Good.

Date: 2019-09-14 01:20 am (UTC)
sohoangel: (that's a relief)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
Only in Aziraphale's deepest, heavily inebriated thoughts has he ever dared to imagine something like this, and for a second or two he can't even properly enjoy himself, too busy de-tangling his wings and fretting over Crowley, hands cradling the back of his head in case the demon bonked himself, but it appears that Crowley is all right. More than all right, with a leg twined around his, the arm around his waist holding him even closer than his own soft body weight does naturally. So with a soft sigh, he sinks into Crowley's kiss, letting himself relax.

At least until Crowley caresses his wings. No one has ever touched his wings before, save himself, and the sensation is so intimate that it sends a great shiver down them, feathers rustling like a rainstorm. "Crowley," he whimpers against his lips. He turns his head and presses a kiss against the soft skin underneath Crowley's jaw. "Oh, my love. I think I rather do."

Date: 2019-09-14 04:26 pm (UTC)
duckshaveears: (~ thirst)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
God, Crowley can feel the way Aziraphale's whole body trembles, all over, and he groans, and if it were possible to discorporate from sheer desire that'd be the end of him. And then Aziraphale calls him my love and it's Crowley's turn to tremble from the intimacy of it, to whimper with longing.

"What do you want?" he manages to ask, tilting his head back as Aziraphale's lips brush along his jaw, and fuck, fuck, this will kill him, he wants it so much. "Just ask, angel, I'll do it, I'll do anything."

Date: 2019-09-15 02:20 am (UTC)
sohoangel: (what was that?)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
You, is what he wants to answer, as he listens to Crowley plead beneath him and another shiver runs though his wings. But he knows that's too vague and not what Crowley is really asking and... oh, he doesn't know what to say. He's loved Crowley for ages, but this kind of visceral desire, it's so new to him. It has his mind spinning out in a thousand directions, some of them tinged with uncertainty.

"I..." He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "My wings. Can you...?" It feels selfish to ask, he brought them out to shelter Crowley, not for his own pleasure. But now that he's had a taste of what it feels like, he wants more. "Keep touching them. Please."

Date: 2019-09-18 08:49 pm (UTC)
duckshaveears: (+ lip bite)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
He can do that, he can definitely do that. Crowley lets go of the angel's waist and raises his hands and slowly, reverently strokes those wings, starting from the spine and moving outward. His fingers trail carefully along the delicate lines of bone, then further down over the coverts, soft feathers tickling at his fingertips and palms. "Beautiful," he murmurs, only half-aware he's said it. He lets his head rest on the floor so he can see Aziraphale's face while his hands explore. "Fuck, but you're gorgeous like this."

Date: 2019-09-19 01:57 am (UTC)
sohoangel: (dawning realization)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
Even without Crowley's arm around his waist, he stays pressed close, eyes shutting and soft huffs of breath leaving him while Crowley touches his wings. Each caress is so gentle, so reverent. No one has ever handled him with such care. He can feel Crowley's love wash over him with every pass of his hands, and he shivers from the pure, undiluted pleasure of it.

Gorgeous...? Aziraphale opens his eyes, looks down at Crowley as if he can't believe it. He's been complimented before, there were times in history in which his form was considered attractive, but none of that meant much to him. Not the way Crowley says it, as if he's the most beautiful thing in the universe.

"Is it the wings?" He flexes them against Crowley's hands, urges him to continue. He keeps cradling the back of Crowley's head with one hand while the other tenderly traces his snake tattoo, then nudges on the frame of his sunglasses, a silent request to remove them. If Crowley is going to look upon him, he wants to do the same.

Date: 2019-09-20 08:13 pm (UTC)
duckshaveears: (~ thaaaaaaaat's not good)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
"Satan, no," Crowley says. He nods a bit so Aziraphale's nudge moves his sunglasses off. It's fine, they can come off, he doesn't usually wear them in here anyway, not when it's just the pair of them. But he's not taking them off himself, because that would mean taking his hands off of Aziraphale, and that's not happening. "I mean, yes, it's the wings, but only because they're yours. Because it's you. All soft, and spread on top of me, and fuck do that again--"

He lifts his head up an inch again, seizes another kiss, hungry and wanting. His fingers still dance lightly along bone and feather, careful, but the rest of him, the rest of him tells a different story of wanting. The way his leg tightens around Aziraphale's, the way his body rises under his, the way he tilts his head into that touch next to his ear, the slight whining keen he makes.

Date: 2019-09-21 12:42 am (UTC)
sohoangel: (aw shucks)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
Aziraphale pushes his sunglasses off entirely, setting them aside so he can go back to tracing the lines of Crowley's face while having an unobstructed view of those mesmerizing eyes. "Beautiful," he whispers, distant and distracted so long as Crowley is petting his wings. "Crowley, you're... you've always been..."

The answer surprises him, makes him want to giggle because it sounds like Crowley is describing a down-filled duvet, but it also twists at him in a tantalizing sort of way, knowing how much Crowley is reveling in his softness. He meets Crowley's kiss and swallows up that sweet keening. One hand holds his head close, the other runs down his side soothingly, settling on his hip and squeezing gently.

"You're so good to me," he whispers against Crowley's lips, wings trembling from each careful touch. "No one could ever love me like you do."

Date: 2019-09-22 09:34 pm (UTC)
duckshaveears: (~ thirst)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
Crowley doesn't mind his eyes. He's a snake, plus he's a demon, and honestly compared to a lot of the hosts of Down Below he got off lucky. And they're great for spooking humans once in a while, on special occasions.

But someone saying they're beautiful, Aziraphale calling any part of him beautiful...oh, that makes him groan. "They'd better not," he manages, his voice rasping. "Because I am not sharing now that I've finally got you. Just so we're clear on that." Hands on wings are good, but it's not enough now, and they wander along Aziraphale's upper back, his neck, and one goes lower back to his waist and starts teasing at all those too-neatly arranged clothes, waistcoat and tucked in shirt and there are buttons pressed between them that he has had honest-to-Lucifer erotic dreams about undoing, sometimes with his teeth.

Date: 2019-09-22 10:39 pm (UTC)
sohoangel: (the bae (my heart))
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
Aziraphale files that groan away for later, a reaction that he intends to exploit at the next earliest opportunity. For now, he's drawn back into the feel of Crowley's hands as they wander and pluck at his clothes, at the many layers between them. His wings flutter erratically, as if uncertain where to land, the echo of Crowley's touch still shivering through them.

"You have me," he breathes, his grip on Crowley's hip tightening as if needing to anchor himself against the tempest of passion within him. "And I don't intend to share you, either. You're all I've ever wanted, Crowley. There's never been anyone else."

Date: 2019-09-24 10:15 pm (UTC)
duckshaveears: (+ lip bite)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
It's even odds as to if Crowley's groan in response to that is pathetic or downright obscene, or both. The way Aziraphale presses his fingers into Crowley's hip doesn't help, or maybe helps too much.

It's one of the problems of wings, that they really get in the way, and stop you doing things like flipping your angel onto his back so you can ravish your way down his chest, and woe betide things like waistcoats that inhibit your progress. Pinned as he is, Crowley has to get more creative.

Fine. He can do creative. He can nip at Aziraphale's neck, nibble and suck his way up to the ear, flick his tongue sinfully into the lobe. He can sneak one of those hands under all the layers and press it to the bare skin at the base of Aziraphale's spine. He can rub and move and press, and he can do all those things at once, and how will sensual, hedonistic Aziraphale, who makes noises that are almost bloody orgasmic while eating sushi, react to those? He's wondered since forever.

Date: 2019-09-25 03:38 am (UTC)
sohoangel: (that's a relief)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
It doesn't matter how tightly he holds onto Crowley's hip or how much that desperate groan sinks deep into his heart, he's utterly unprepared for the feeling of Crowley's tongue against his ear. He's never been kissed like that, even by the most forward of humans, and he suspects that if he had, he would have found it obtrusive and repellent.

From Crowley, it's another matter entirely.

"Crowley~" he moans, stretching out the demon's name into at least three or four syllables. "Oh... oh you wily serpent..." The tip of his wings skate the floor as he unconsciously presses into that touch against his back, overcome by its intimacy. It sets alight a heady sort of anticipation within him, this drag and tug of clothes as Crowley attempts to get at more of his bare skin, pinned down though he is by a softly keening angel.

He squeezes Crowley's hip again, his other hand roaming aimlessly, wanting to touch in return but not knowing where to start. Everything is so new, an exotic banquet that he's only read about, never experienced for himself, not until now. "Should we get up?" he queries with a quick gasp. "Do this -- oh -- somewhere properly?"

Date: 2019-09-25 11:45 am (UTC)
duckshaveears: (~ thirst)
From: [personal profile] duckshaveears
"Do you even have a bed?" Christ, that moan, that drawn-out moan of desire that had Crowley's name in it, he'll fantasize about that forever, he wants it to be the last thing he ever hears, and he does that thing with his tongue again solely in the hopes of inspiring a repeat. A bed would be idea but if they need to stay on the floor he'll do that, so long as this doesn't stop. He scrapes fingernails up the base of Aziraphale's spine, but the wings are in the way. "Angel, fuck, the things you do to me, the things I want to do to you--"

Date: 2019-09-25 02:03 pm (UTC)
sohoangel: (dawning realization)
From: [personal profile] sohoangel
"I have an entire flat upstairs," he replies before moaning wordlessly at the feel of Crowley's tongue on his ear, good Lord, why does that feel so good? "There's a... a bed somewhere..."

He used to read in bed on occasion, as it seemed like a pleasant place to do it. He never slept in it, and he certainly never imagined taking Crowley up to it, curling up around him in the flannel sheets, exchanging kisses while they... well, that's as far as his 'never imagining' went, but now it's quite likely to become a reality, and his heart pounds wildly at the notion.

His wings are in the way, his clothes are in the way, but his skin breaks out into gooseflesh anyway from Crowley's touch. "I haven't done anything," he protests weakly. He places a hand on Crowley's shoulder and pushes himself up enough so that he can look down at him, eyebrows tilted up worriedly even as the rest of his face glows with absolute adoration. "I haven't even made an Effort yet. I want to do things to you, too, but I don't know how."

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oh GOD that's awful and also true

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Sonic?!? Stupid autocorrect, sorry. :(

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It's clearly having flashbacks to its former life.

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It was too good to keep to myself. ;)

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Brilliant! XD

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I want art of it. Also sorry so slow.

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musebox for Ashfae's minions

May 2025

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