Open To Anyone For Anything RP Post 2

[questionablewit]

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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.

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[sohoangel]

Aziraphale gets lost for a moment in Crowley's eyes. He's never felt so adored, and yet he knows that Crowley has wanted to love him like this for so long. It's as if he's thrown open the shutters of his heart and finally let all that light pour in and set everything aglow.

"You're perfect, too," he pants as he moves, each lift and fall more rhythmic than the last. If he had the power to think past the pure raw pleasure between them, he'd be impressed with how easily he's getting the hang of things. "All of you, inside me and around me, you're --"

A sudden bright spark of pleasure rushes through him and he sobs out loud. Ah, found it. "Right there," he whimpers, clutching tightly to Crowley as he shifts his hips to keep that angle. "Darling, right there, please."

[duckshaveears]

He'll never get used to all these new let names, the darlings and dearests. He doesn't want to get used to them. They send nervous thrills down his spine, even now.

Crowley groans when Aziraphale sobs, because fuck, how it possible he did something to cause that noise? He swivels his hips, finds the right angle, and then he's hitting it on every stroke, trying to get more of that needy wail.

[sohoangel]

Crowley is in for a treat, then, because once their hips align, Aziraphale loses whatever shred of composure he had left and moans with abandon, a wanton song of praises for his beloved. There are darlings and dearests interspersed with yes and don't stop, and -- on one particularly splendid thrust -- a sharp, uncensored fuck! that leaves his mouth when all other words fail him.

White-hot pleasure pulses underneath his skin, quivers in every feather of his wings. It presses against him from the inside, rises and rises. He rides on the precipice of his climax, but is afraid of letting go of Crowley to touch himself, needing that anchor, that grounding to his live wire. "Crowley -- please --" he sobs. "I'm -- I'm so close --"

[duckshaveears]

If Crowley ever prayed, he'd pray never to forget this. He wants it written on his skin, on the backs of his eyelids, he doesn't want to see or hear or feel anything else again, just this, just Aziraphale. all those needy gasps and endearments and swear words and please and his name, his name, mixed in with all of it. Six thousand years to get to this point and it was worth every blessed second.

"Yes--yes--" Fuck,he won't last either, not with Aziraphale begging him like this, not while he gets to move and bury himself to the hilt inside his angel. His angel, and Crowley groans, wraps a hand around Aziraphale's cock and strokes in time with his thrusts. "Yes, angel, come on, come for me, stay with me, stay with me--"

Later he might be embarassed by that last, because those three words are the ones he'd had to hold back all this time, all these centuries. Not saying I love you was easy in comparison to not asking for what he really wanted. But nothing's held back now, nothing, and Crowley gives and takes pleasure with equal abandon as those words pound in his veins.

Stay with me, stay with me, stay with me.

[sohoangel]

Crowley's hand on his cock sets him further on the edge, but it's those words -- stay with me -- that tip him over. He cries out once more, eyes shut and head tilted back, all the lovely marks that Crowley has sucked into it on display. It feels like it goes on forever, long after he's finished spilling out over himself and Crowley's hand, the aftershocks sending out great shivers through his wings, pressed up as they are against Crowley's.

He slouches forward, holding onto Crowley while he continues to ride him, aching for the demon to release inside of him, to experience that exquisite bit of claiming. "Always," he gasps. "Always and forever, I'm yours."

[duckshaveears]

Crowley keeps ahold of himself long enough to see Aziraphale lose control, to hold him and push him through it, rambling nonsense encouragement and praise all the while without any real awareness of the words. His thrusting eases while he's distracted with watching Aziraphale, feeling the angel's wings trembling against his. Feeling his whole body shake with ecstacy.

If anything on Heaven or Earth is a blessing, this is. Of that he's sure.

But he's wrong, because then Aziraphale collapses on him, clutching, and says I'm yours, and that's it for Crowley. He cries out, suddenly thrusting just a few more times up into Aziraphale, hard and deep, and comes with the word angel in his mouth. And oh God and Satan and everything, it's perfect, it's the most miraculous thing ever to happen, and he shudders in Aziraphale's arm and collapses on him in turn and it's a wonder they don't both just fall over.

But they're supporting each other, balancing each other. As they always have, he thinks, returning to some sort of dizzy awareness.

It's a while before Crowley is able to raise his head enough to meet Aziraphale's eyes, and he's not even aware that his own are wet with tears.

[sohoangel]

Somewhere in that dizzying haze of post-orgasmic bliss, Aziraphale feels those final hard thrusts and distantly thinks that he might like a round of love-making where Crowley does that the entire time. It's a short-lived thought, replaced with the nearly indescribable sensation of Crowley coming inside him. He keeps the strength to support Crowley in his arms, marveling at how fortunate he is to share this moment with the being he loves more than anything.

With wings cocooned around them and limbs holding one another steady, the angel hoards this precious moment as he does any other, committing it to memory, letting the sound of Crowley's breathing keep him in the present, savoring every last drop of it. When Crowley finally looks up to meet his eyes, he kisses each cheek, and then his forehead, before tilting his head and nuzzling the snake tattoo at Crowley's temple.

He wishes he had the words to express the profoundness of what they just shared, but when his mouth opens, all that comes out is a soft, plaintive, "Dearest."

[duckshaveears]

Crowley makes a small whimper of a sound, closing his eyes as Aziraphale brushes angelic lips over the tattoo. The kisses to cheek and forehead felt a little like benediction, but this feels a little closer to blasphemy.

But it's neither. None of these kisses and caresses are either, every gesture belongs just to them. It's all theirs, and that's why Crowley will hold it sacred. He bends his head, leaning in to that touch. "Been wanting you to call me that for a thousand years. Two. More."

[sohoangel]

"Then I'll have to make up for lost time. Dearest." He presses another kiss to Crowley's tattoo, then across his face again, each one followed by a dearest or my dearest. More than a mere pet name, as Crowley truly is the most loved and cherished in his angelic heart.

Wrapped up as he is in Crowley's embrace, Aziraphale never wants to let go, but his thighs are starting to ache from how he's perched in Crowley's lap. "Can we lie down for a little while, darling?"

[duckshaveears]

Crowley shudders at that repetition of dearest, clutches at Aziraphale's skin as the word washes over him. Dearest. Unloved and unforgivable and unwanted in the eyes of God and Heaven and Hell, but dearest here.

Nothing has ever felt this perfect or precious.

But he's exhausted too, drained physically and emotionally. "Yeah..." It only sounds a little reluctant. He turns his face and steals another kiss, sweet and lingering, before sighing and bringing his hands back to Aziraphale's hips. "Yeah. So long as I still get to hold you while we do it." He smiles, his face tired but open, easy to read. "Been waiting for that darling, too."

[sohoangel]

Aziraphale returns the kiss, chasing Crowley's lips before laughing quietly at himself. They'll never lie down at this rate, but, God, he really needs to. "Of course," he replies, scoffing at the very idea that they wouldn't remained entwined with one another while horizontal. "Let me just --"

He rolls his shoulders and his wings disappear. He shivers a bit as Crowley's feathers brush his bare back and he murmurs, "Leave those out, if you like, darling." The logistics of two sets of wings out while lying down is too much for his tired mind to handle, but he likes the idea of remaining curled up in all that soft warmth.

With a soft sound of disappointment, he shifts up and feels Crowley slide out of him. As he lies down, he miracles away the mess, but not the ache that remains. Once he's settled comfortably, he holds out his arms, beckoning Crowley into them. "Anything else you've been waiting to be called, my beautiful treasure?"

[duckshaveears]

There's not an easy way to do this part, it seems, this messy disentangling. It's both a relief and a loss when he withdraws. Aziraphale handles the mess before Crowley can decide what to do about it, then lays down. Reaches up for him. Aziraphale, reaching out to him.

Crowley is losing count of how many things he's wanted that he's suddenly been granted.

He does put his wings away. He's too tired, and he doesn't want to deal with them at present, he wants to be as close to his angel as possible for as long as possible as comfortably as possible. Aziraphale getting to used him as a feathery blanket will need to wait for another day.

There will be another day, there will be more of this, and Crowley still has a lump in his throat as he lies down and lets Aziraphale wrap arms around him. He buries his face in the angel's chest, under his chin. "Anything where you call me yours." He chuckles suddenly and kisses the skin near his mouth. "Though I never thought of that one. Beautiful treasure, really?"

[sohoangel]

Having Crowley wrapped up around him more than makes up for the lack of wings. Besides, the bed has regular blankets to keep them cozy, one of which (a soft gray, not tartan) he pulls over them. He knows that Crowley has plans to make love to him for days on end, but there's time enough for a relaxing cuddle here and there, in his not so humble opinion.

"Yours," he agrees, nearly melting at the words. Crowley's question makes him smile innocently. "What? You most certainly are both." He laughs quietly and runs a hand along his sinuous spine in long, thoughtful strokes. "I've been calling you whatever comes to mind, although I suspect certain terms of endearment are off the table. You aren't a pumpkin or a dumpling. No one says chuckaboo anymore, do they? It's too bad, I would have liked to have called you that when it was in fashion."

[duckshaveears]

Crowley has always been willing to make time to curl up under a blanket, and doing it with his angel is a dream come true. More sex is definitely on the cards, but this is part of lovemaking too. One of his favorite parts, already. He all but purrs, curling into those strokes along his back.

"Definitely not pumpkin," he murmurs, drowsy and content. "And I'll curse you if you try dumpling. Sweetheart would be good. And..." He clears his throat. "...might not mind chuckaboo. Coming from you. Very you sort of word. But not too often. Let me keep a few shreds of my dignity."

[sohoangel]

Aziraphale nuzzles into his hair, trying to hide his smile when Crowley confesses to his preference. "Only on the most special of occasions, then." He kisses the top of Crowley's head, and then whispers into his ear, "My darling chuckaboo."

He'll have to keep 'dumpling' in his back pocket for occasions when a little revenge is in order.

Wiggling a bit into the sheets, he strokes Crowley's back and rolls slightly to the side, the better to look his beloved in the face. "Will you keep your dignity if I call you dearest in public? My dearest? I want everyone to know that you're mine."

[duckshaveears]

There's nothing for it. Drained as he is, Crowley still has to dive in for another kiss at that, fervent and passionate.

"Sod my dignity," he manages somewhere during this activity, pulling Aziraphale in as close as he can manage. "Tattoo it on my forehead. Dearest Crowley, if found please return to Aziraphale. Call me it everywhere, all the time. Never stop."

[sohoangel]

Oh, that is the most lovely response he could have ever asked for. He returns the kiss as best as he can while smiling like a lovesick fool. "All right, then, my darling. Dearest. We can skip the tattoo, although that does have a nice ring to it."

He cuddles close, hands shifting to the small of Crowley's back, tucking the demon's head back under his chin. "Now, then. I do insist on a proper snuggle, at least for a short while, before we get back to that checklist of yours. I know it's not a particularly racy fantasy, but I've dreamed about doing this for quite some time, and you are especially warm and cozy right now."

headcanon: for Christmas he absolutely gets them gag t-shirts along these lines.

[duckshaveears]

Crowley wouldn't really have done the tattoo. He might have agreed to a t-shirt. Would wear it, too, cackling at how terrible and cheese it is but secretly thrumming with pride and adoration.

But Aziraphale's unracy fantasy perfectly matches Crowley's own wishes, and he settles down happily again with a small appreciative grunt, nuzzling his nose against Aziraphale's chest in a way that must be ticklish. "Mmmm, not gonna arguue with that. Sounds perfect." His arm squeezes around Aziraphale's waist. "Might fall asleep though, if you're too long about it. So it's at your own risk."

Headcanon accepted! Aziraphale can wear his with his house cardigan. :)

[sohoangel]

Aziraphale would appreciate the sentiment but dislike the execution, because it'd necessitate him to wear an 'I'm Aziraphale' t-shirt to match. Perhaps he could get away with a button pinned to his lapel instead.

(And, of course, they would need shirts with reverse wording, because there are times when Aziraphale is not the more responsible one by any means.)

There is a peal of giggles at the nose nuzzling, but the angel settles down soon enough. "That's a risk I'm willing to take," he replies, gently stroking Crowley's back. "Although having you fall asleep in my arms is another one of my fantasies, so it's a win-win for me."

Two t-shirts, two buttons, so they can do both at once. ;)

[duckshaveears]

Crowley makes a pained sort of noise, because he's so happy he almost can't stand it. "You've been fantasizing 'bout my wildest, most impossible dreams. Fuck, angel, how'd we take so long to get here?" Another kiss on Aziraphale's chest, another tight squeeze of his arm around Aziraphale's waist. "I'll sleep on you anytime, anywhere. Been wanting to just curl up with my head in your lap and doze while you read books for as long as you've had this bloody bookshop."

It's all sounding a little muffled now, but definitely fervent.

Brilliant! XD

[sohoangel]

It's already been an emotional evening, but Crowley's words bring a lump to Aziraphale's throat suddenly. He blinks up at the ceiling a few times, hands shaking a little before resuming their kind and patient stroking.

"We're here now. That's what matters." It's tempting to sink into regret, but he can't right now, so full on Crowley's love and his skin still buzzing from their recent lovemaking. "Any time, my dear. My lap is yours for eternity."

I want art of it. Also sorry so slow.

[duckshaveears]

It wasn't said with regret, not this time. Crowley's incapable of regret at the moment. Everything they've every done, right or wrong, brilliant or foolish, virtuous or sinful or just plain ineffable, has led them here to this moment, and this moment is perfect. This is moment is everything he wants.

"Holding you to that, too," Crowley mumbles happily, he hand on Aziraphale's back slipping down to blatantly grope at his arse for a moment. "Holding you to everything. 'Specially to me."

It's a ridiculous sentence and he doesn't care. He's half asleep while wound a naked, approving, adoring Aziraphale and the world is as good as it's ever been.

No worries! I hope you're staying safe and healthy wherever you are. <3

[sohoangel]

Crowley's body and the aura of happiness surrounding it is like a warm blanket that pulls the angel back into a state of tranquility. He's finally, finally allowed to love Crowley openly, and he won't dwell on the past a moment longer, only bask in the present.

He laughs at the groping, a deep-chested rumble that Crowley can probably feel as well as hear. "If you give me a chance to clear away more of my book, you'll have plenty of nice, comfortable surfaces to hold me to." There's a couch and a few cushy chairs underneath the stacks somewhere.

One hand continues stroking his back, the other pets his hair. "I love you so much. My dearest." He'll never tire of saying it.

Scotland, and yup. We started isolating early. Hope you're safe and well!! Also do we continue/stop?

[duckshaveears]

Crowley radiates so much love (and happiness, and sleepiness) just at the moment that it doesn't take an angel to feel it. It's entirely possible that people all through Soho are unexpectedly suffused with a feeling of unexpected contentment, for no understandable reason.

Aziraphale makes a noise like a purr, and Crowley smiles against his chest. "All of 'em," he says, definitely half-asleep now. "Love you too. M'angel."

It's only a few more breaths until he's asleep, curled up around Aziraphale like a cat in a sunbeam or a snake wrapped around a branch.

Massachusetts, 3 weeks so far. :/ But we're healthy and safe!

[sohoangel]

Considering how Aziraphale is also radiating love and contentment, all of Soho is likely in for a restful, pleasant evening.

"Dream about whatever you like best," he whispers to the sleeping demon curled up around him, his hands slowing until they gently rest upon his back in a loving embrace. Though he doesn't fall asleep, he makes no move to reach for a book or otherwise distract himself, content to listen to Crowley breathe and think over the past few hours with a soft, besotted smile on his face.

Sometimes prayers are answered, even for angels.

((I think this is a good place to stop. This was a fantastic PSL from start to finish, thank you! If you want to pick back up any of our other PSLs or start something new, let me know. My free time is ironically much less these days, but I'll always make time for your tags. <3))