Even as he leans into the snake’s flicking tongue, his eyes never leave Crowley’s, gaze heavy with heat.
“I see myself in your bed.” His fingers stir gently against Crowley’s lips, a counterpoint to the pure lust in his voice and words. “You spread open around me, while you use your wicked powers—” He breathes the word wicked like the fondest term of endearment— “to fill me.”
Not a thing that’s entirely possible in the real world, but that’s the advantage of dreams: reality is whatever the scenario at hand demands it be. And, in this case, the reality of this dream demands that he have two versions of Crowley at once.
(And if some part of him notices that the usual command in Crowley’s tone slides into pleading, that part is completely overruled by everything else that’s happening.)
MONSTERFUCKING THREESOME IT IS
Date: 2026-01-17 06:03 am (UTC)“I see myself in your bed.” His fingers stir gently against Crowley’s lips, a counterpoint to the pure lust in his voice and words. “You spread open around me, while you use your wicked powers—” He breathes the word wicked like the fondest term of endearment— “to fill me.”
Not a thing that’s entirely possible in the real world, but that’s the advantage of dreams: reality is whatever the scenario at hand demands it be. And, in this case, the reality of this dream demands that he have two versions of Crowley at once.
(And if some part of him notices that the usual command in Crowley’s tone slides into pleading, that part is completely overruled by everything else that’s happening.)