Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post 2
Nov. 11th, 2018 03:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
questionablewit posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
faemused
Want to tag someone? Tag someone. Put the character you want in the subject line.
Leave a starter, or leave a prompt and I'll start.
Brilliant ideas and clueless flailing all welcome.
AUs and cross-canon, drama and comedy and shipping.
Just throw stuff at me. It's all good.
Happy holidays, I brought you the angel with the filthiest imagination!
Date: 2019-12-22 10:55 pm (UTC)He can almost feel her skin prickle beneath her coat as he takes her arm; they move with the same purposeful quiet that got them to the cloakroom at the Ritz. Again no one notices them in the crowd, or on the hushed street outside.
This time there’s no door to lock, no space to insulate to hold in their sounds. All the same, they’re alone, unseen, a single shadow against the side of the building.
Aziraphale leans back, his Inverness cape keeping him cushioned against the chill of the night and the bricks of the building. His hands find Crowley’s hips and draw her close, gently.
“I find myself very inspired,” he murmurs, the steam of his breath caressing her face even as it vanishes, “to tell you exactly what I want to do to you, when we get home.”
It's exactly what I wanted!! Have an affectionate snake who will likely swoon. ;)
Date: 2019-12-24 01:30 am (UTC)Not that she'll refuse to follow his lead regardless. He has the reins tonight, mostly--Crowley is still smug about the cloakroom diversion--and besides, why not?
It is cold. But quiet, despite other theatregoers having a smoke or getting some air. And Crowley is of course more than happy for Aziraphale to put his hands on her hips and pull her in.
It's not quite an embrace. Her hands find their way to his shoulders, his breath teases at her face as he speaks. Crowley manages not to blush. "Oh?" she says, carefully casual, trying to hide how her heart skips. This is playing dirty, and Aziraphale knows it. "I take it we're not discussing hot toddies and nightcaps here?"
Exactly what I wanted! :D
Date: 2019-12-24 02:01 am (UTC)His hands flex on her waist; he leans in close to put his mouth by her ear. From a distance, if anyone were to notice his beatific expression, one might assume he’s murmuring tender endearments to her.
“I want to start the very moment we’re inside with the door locked. Mostly because I can tell your nipples have been hard all evening, and I’m looking forward to the sound you make when I taste them.” His tongue darts gently against her earlobe. “You’ve been imagining it too. My mouth on you. Kissing. Biting. Having you for dessert.”
I have so been wanting to use this icon.
Date: 2019-12-24 02:23 am (UTC)Crowley's hands are trembling where they rest on his Inverness Cape. She tries to glower at them so they'll stop, but then Aziraphale's tongue touches her ear lightly, lightly, lightly, and Crowley realizes not trembling is a completely lost cause. "Maybe," she says, aiming for noncommittal and not even hitting the white bit of the target. "Thought you'd had dessert, though. Two of them, even."
HEHEHEHEHEHEH. <3
Date: 2019-12-24 02:56 am (UTC)He can feel her trembling, and his thumbs stroke over the curve of her waist, soft and steady.
“First your breasts, and then when I lay you down in our bed, I’ll pin your thighs apart and lick you open.” He inhales slowly, as if he’s breathing in the scent of her from between her legs. “Mm... I love the taste of you, wet on my tongue.”
no subject
Date: 2019-12-24 01:51 pm (UTC)"...yeah?" she manages, not altogether coherently. No, wait, she shouldn't make this so easy. He'll win in the end, it's a foregone conclusion, but she shouldn't make it this easy for him. Crowley swallows, stands a little taller. "Thought we were by the front door a moment ago. How'd we get to the bed already?" When in doubt, go for pedantry.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-24 02:55 pm (UTC)“Oh, we’ll probably need a miracle. To spare you from having to take the stairs. Though I could always simply have you on the sofa...”
His hands tighten gently on her hips, the way they might if she were riding him, hidden in the warm and intimate space beneath their coats. I’ve got you.
“Either way,” he almost purrs, “we’ll find you a spot to lie down...” Again his tongue darts out, this time a gentle brush at her neck. “...so I can kiss your quim very, very thoroughly. Lick your lips apart, slowly, so slowly, and then when you’re almost begging—”
His lips brush lightly at her ear, his voice dropping even further, a rough whisper.
“You can feel it, can’t you? My tongue, between your legs, drawing little circles on your clitoris?”
no subject
Date: 2019-12-24 03:03 pm (UTC)"Yes." It's a hiss more than a word. "Fuck, yes." She squeezes her thighs together in an attempt to relieve a bit of the growing ache there, and it does nothing. Crowley groans her frustration aloud, swaying a little in his gentle grip. "Angel--"
no subject
Date: 2019-12-24 05:44 pm (UTC)“Little circles to start.” He’s absolutely being a bastard now, and he can tell she loves it, can hear it in the tightness of her breath. “Then steady strokes across your clit—back and forth, back and forth. Harder now. A little quicker. Two of my fingers inside you. Can you feel them?”
no subject
Date: 2019-12-26 01:16 am (UTC)"...bastard," she breathes, low and husky. She leans her head against his shoulder, bends her knees more, tries to rub herself against his thigh. "Yes, I feel it, I fucking feel it, angel--"
no subject
Date: 2019-12-26 05:57 am (UTC)His breath steams against her ear and her flushed cheek; his hands slide a touch lower, to her hips, holding her just as firmly as if she’s actually riding him. With his back fully to the wall he can shift as well, still hidden by their coats, guiding her so she can grind against the curve of his hip.
“Harder now, love. Faster.” Again his tongue flickers, far too lightly, against the side of her throat. “You’ll be pulling my hair, this time, while I devour your quim. Holding on for dear life as you fuck my fingers and my filthy mouth.”
Aziraphale knows by now that a little well-timed vulgarity works on Crowley; judging from the way her hands shake on his shoulders and her words have collapsed into hissing groans, tonight it’s working wonders.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-27 12:08 am (UTC)She doesn't care. Crowley's world has shrunk to this little bubble of space, his voice, the spell he's weaving with it, her need and his. This must be affecting him too. If it isn't she'll bloody well make sure it does. "Yes," she answers, though it's more a moan than a word. She's soaked now, her pants thoroughly wet, enough that he may be able to feel it through the layers of her sheer tights and his elegant trousers. Maybe it'll leave a stain there, a sweet wet spot on his immaculate outfit.
That idea makes her moan again. "Fuck, angel--" She pulls her head back enough to look at him, skin flushed and mouth open, puffy from where she's been biting at her lip. She lifts a hand to his face, traces his mouth with two fingertips, presses them briefly against his lips, seeking entrance. "Your mouth...fuck, how'd an angel like you learn to be this dirty?"
no subject
Date: 2019-12-27 12:43 am (UTC)But only a second. Only a breath, before he kisses her fingertips, flicks his tongue against them, soft and ticklish.
His smile is wicked.
"Thousands of years," he breathes, "of reading dirty books and thinking dirtier thoughts about you. You're a terrible influence, Crowley. Making me want to fuck you with my fingers and tongue till you fall apart, suck your clit until all you can say is my name. Shameless."
Crowley would like to strongly endorse having her clothes ripped off
Date: 2019-12-27 01:40 am (UTC)Crowley keens, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder, nipping at the skin there with too-sharp teeth. She scrapes her nails down his arms, finds his hands at her waist. "Aziraphale." The way she says it is worshipful, despite the context. Because of the context. "Fucking touch me, please--you filthy obscene bastard--"
Soon enough, no worries
Date: 2019-12-27 02:05 am (UTC)"That's it. Let go." Aziraphale's voice has dropped to a growl. "Fuck me as hard as you need, harder, faster, come for me, I know you want to come for me..."
Okay so my Crowley is more sub than dom, though she can switch.
Date: 2019-12-27 03:16 am (UTC)When it passes she sags, kisses his neck in blissed out lassitude. "Angel," she breathes.
My Aziraphale's a switch who enjoys being a bastard, so I think this works out nicely.
Date: 2019-12-27 04:02 am (UTC)And then he feels her gasp and shiver and jerk, squeezing his fingers, and this time he does murmur hushed tenderness in her ear. Little shushing noises, meant to soothe and settle, the hand not buried between her thighs sliding around to stroke the small of her back.
As her lips brush his neck, lazy and satisfied, he begins to ease his fingers out of her. His thumb, index, and middle finger are decadently slick.
"Didn't I tell you I'd bring you off with my filthy mouth?" he teases, gently, and drops a kiss at the side of her jaw.
It certainly does.
Date: 2019-12-28 01:57 am (UTC)But they are outside, and there's still the other half of the show. Much as she enjoyed the first half, Crowley's a little sorry about that. There's nothing she'd like more than to be in their warm bed at home, snuggling and teasing and twined around each other. The fact that they'll get there in a few hours is only some comfort.
"Mm," she agrees, tilting her head as he kisses her face. "Didn't doubt you. Never do." She kisses him in return, whatever part is nearest; it turns out to be the edge of his mouth. "Was right, earlier. You're too good to me, angel."
There's nothing self-depreciating in the words. If anything they're smug, a silent and I love it and will shamelessly take advantage of the fact tacked on to the end.
A does love peril/rescue foreplay (because of course), but with that part over he's quite flexible!
Date: 2019-12-28 09:01 pm (UTC)"I did set out to spoil you tonight." This is the most glorious of secrets--the two of them, leaning on one another, half-entwined beneath their coats, no human soul around them remotely aware of what they've just done. Aziraphale isn't a stranger to the pleasure of feeling like you've gotten away with something, but he relishes it in this new context all the same. "And I intend to make good on all my promises once we're home. But not before we've gotten to your favorite part of the story," he adds, fondly teasing.
They do, miraculously, have enough time to readjust themselves and find their seats. With a strange surge of pride Aziraphale notices there's a wet spot on his trousers, one his cape hides from view; even though a good dry clean will probably get it out, he'll always know it was there. (Unfortunately, he does find he has to refrain from licking his fingers clean, because he knows the taste of her will lead him right back to the clothes-ripping impulse, and he does want to save that for the end of the night.)
Anytime he wants to roleplay, Crowley is up for it. Especially redoing certain events from theirpast
Date: 2019-12-28 09:47 pm (UTC)A little reluctantly she adjusts her clothing back into place, and does use a bit of a miracle to clean herself up (wet knickers would be much, much too distracting, as well as uncomfortable). But an earlier thought prompts her to look down at Aziraphale's trousers, and her grin when she sees the damp place there is thoroughly demonic.
She leans in again and kisses him, her fingers trailing down his leg to that spot. "Keep this," she murmurs. "For the rest of the night, at least. I want to know it's there."
He does, and she's radiant with satisfaction as much as happiness and the general afterglow of a really good orgasm, even though he refuses her other offer to clean his fingers for him. Teasing him about that keeps them nicely occupied for what's left of the intermission, and she manages to catch his hand and kiss the back of it when the lights dim once more, whereupon she laughs wickedly, but refrains, settling for just holding his fingers in hers.
...is a trip to the Bastille in the near future? >:D
Date: 2019-12-28 10:38 pm (UTC)Odile and Odette, when they re-enter, are masked for their trials. The supposed Raven Queen dances with waves and water nixies to music that was once meant for a Prince's ball; the supposed Swan Queen is whirled about by dancers dressed as flame and smoke to music that was once a black swan's triumphant solo. At last, though, both water and fire bend to the lovers' will.
There is an actual gasp from the audience when the two queens, presenting themselves to Von Rothbart, unmask to reveal that they've switched places. Aziraphale can't help grinning. It is a good twist, after all.
And, just as in his story, as soon as the sorcerer moves to threaten Odette, Odile stabs him in the back. His death throes are far more dramatic than the ones Aziraphale wrote, but then it does make them highly satisfying to watch, especially as the raven court reappears to whisk him offstage.
Then, at last, where most productions have a grieving prince throwing himself in a lake and a lot of ladies in tutus gesturing sorrowfully, the show's final pas de deux. The two dancers, in white and black, spin and leap and twine lovingly together, and as the set and the lighting change around them to indicate the warm glow of a rising sun and the shapes of two birds rising into the light of morning, they exchange a final loving kiss.
The applause begins even before the curtain falls. It takes real effort on Aziraphale's part not to brighten the place before the house lights come up, he's so pleased. His story, their story, and human hearts are also moved by it, are delighted that a swan and a raven could make themselves a happy ending in spite of everything that stood in their way.
The chains did suggest interesting possibilities. Though also, Rome. Or Sherwood? ;)
Date: 2019-12-28 11:44 pm (UTC)(Shut your stupid mouth and die already. She'll never forgive Gabriel, never. Never forget how satisfying it was to watch the righteous smirk on his face dissolve into confused horror as she stood in the flames unharmed. Never forget how terrifying it was to let Aziraphale walk into Hell for her, her utter overwhelming relief upon seeing that he'd successfully walked back out again. Never take any of what they have now for granted.)
But there's no tragedy here. Not on the stage, where the swan and raven queens claim their own and fly into the dawn; not in the audience, where an angel and demon sit side by side and hand in hand. Maybe they were written for a tragedy originally, but as Adam said: where people are concerned it can always be crossed out and rewritten.
Crowley might not be the sentimental sort [1], but when the curtains fall, her clapping is some of the loudest, and goes on the longest.
[1] This is, of course, complete and profound self-deception on Crowley's part, as numerous of her possessions are tangible proof to the contrary, whatever she claims.
Both is good! Maybe some pirate/highwayman stuff too.
Date: 2019-12-29 04:27 pm (UTC)They’re the first two on their feet when the audience rises for a standing ovation. It might be a minor miracle that Aziraphale doesn’t float a few inches off the ground—he’s always felt particularly proud of himself when he’s taken Crowley to a show and the demon enjoys it. Of course he’d known going in that this story would appeal, but it’s one thing to know and another to see it firsthand, to have something that can become a memory.
And it makes Aziraphale happy beyond expressing, watching a crowd cheer for the once-sidelined Odile.
The audience buzzes with pleased chatter as they make their way out. Backstage, the dancers are hugging, crying, complimenting one another on the performance. It’s the perfect level of benevolent chaos for Aziraphale to drop a blessing into, for the company and their director. They may not need it—human gumption gets a lot done on its own—but he privately considers it his thanks for an excellent adaptation of his work.
He slips his arm around Crowley’s waist, snags her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.
“Not to blow my own horn,” he smiles, eyes glittering, “but I do think that may have been a more enjoyable evening than The Sound of Music.”
Crowley wants to be a dragon who's kidnapped a Princess because of course he does
Date: 2019-12-30 01:03 am (UTC)Crowley rolls her eyes at this comparison. "That's not hard," she says in the dryest of dry voices, wrapping her free arm around his shoulders in turn. "And you don't even like that musical. But yeah, good show this." Her grin turns faintly wicked. "Think I should pull a Hamlet? It's tempting. I've certainly made worse things popular."
holy shit yes please. A would even go femme for that.
Date: 2019-12-30 06:38 pm (UTC)His heartbeat picks up a little—now, at last, they can head home. Together. The final piece of his plan is finished by this point in the evening, or at least he has faith in the humans he hired. The rest of the night is for the two of them.
A cab pulls up, as if on cue. Aziraphale’s grin widens.
“Shall we head home?”
Too much for header, see below..
From:HA! I heard the Cats movie is a living nightmare. Also TA-DAAAAAA.
From:Haven't seen it but the reviews are hilarious. Also crowley.exe has crashed.
From:I’ve heard “bewilderingly horny” a lot. Also AWWWW bluescreen demon.
From:I can't imagine the film is more fun than the reviews. Loving them. And ohhh yes. Kinda broke him.
From:And the ring hasn’t even come up yet!
From:Forget bluescreen of death. That's hard drive catching on fire territory.
From:“Whoops, your hard drive is on fire, better rip your clothes off!”
From:She's too shaken for ripping atm. Better save that one for another thread. =) (pity, I love ripping)
From:Time enough for clothes-ripping. ;) (see princess/dragon below...)
From:It does have possibilities! But gaaah still need to get back to Sherwood!
From:Take your time! :D also welcome to this headcanon.
From:Yay headcanon! There are a few other threads I think I owe you too. Inbox is a mess.
From:I know that feeling. I owe you some, I think!
From:No worries, of course. =) And gonna blatantly plagerize myself with this but I liked it so there.
From:I love it and so does Aziraphale.
From:I just love this image I came up with for making a ring? (didn't cut and paste, just reused idea) :)
From:It is fantastic and don’t worry, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t recycle good images!
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:"Make of our hands one hand, make of our hearts one heart."
From:And now… a swing at trueform?
From:yessssssssssssssssssssssss also spot the gratuitous Marvell quote I love that poem
From:don’t. don’t look at the time stamp. HI.
From: