(Untitled)
The Public Sex Meme
This is for all you people out there who like a bit of a thrill. Does the thought of getting caught at any moment turn you on? Well, this meme is the one for you!
- Post with your characters name, fandom and any preferences
- Others respond to your post
- Roll RNG 1-11 for a location! The rest is kind of self-explanitory!
1) The ( Read more... )
Just this once, he didn't resist the urge.
The fact that it was Dean's Baby he was leaning up against, using that sloppy tie to drag the angel down to his level? That was a detail he was ignoring for the moment. Castiel's lips were surprisingly soft against his own, a soft murmur lost in the kiss as his tongue lapped against the seam of the angel's lips.
On the upside, he didn't have to worry about being burned out of existence.]
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He pulls back from the kiss with a low growl, one hand curling over the demon's hip as he fixes him with a stare that's a little bit softer for the arousal blurring the edges, the way the blue of his eyes is being eroded slowly by his pupils. It's such a human reaction, such a human need that has him consorting with a demon in such a way... But he can't deny that the pleasure in this act, depraved as it may be, is enough to keep him from wrenching himself away completely. Not that he could; if Crowley really wanted to Castiel supposes he could keep him here. That knowledge is a hard pill to swallow, and he frowns.] ( ... )
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To make sure my only game piece to fend off the Apocalypse was still on the board.
[Crowley can never bring himself to say this in any manner that isn't dismissive, not since Gabriel decided to endow the demon with the wings that he knows Castiel can still see. The most excruciating experience in his existence had managed to keep the Winchesters from jeering at his divine endowments, but even that only blinds humans. There's a part of him that wishes it hadn't worked. He's not exactly comfortable with angelic magic working properly on any part of his anatomy, Archangel-given or not. His lips curve as he looks up at Castiel across the small distance ( ... )
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Still, he imagines the demon knows better than to do anything that might jeopardize his chances of surviving the apocalypse, and so he's reasonably certain he isn't in mortal peril at the moment.
Human peril, on the other hand... His skin feels hot, and when he lifts his hand from Crowley's hip, brushes fingertips over soft downy feathers, it only gets hotter. It hadn't been this way before, when he'd been falling and not fallen; before it'd been more about lost than lust... That isn't the case anymore. He almost misses what Crowley's said, but when it does get through, his eyes narrow. He isn't sure he can buy that.]
Why?
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And of course there's a need for that question- in Castiel's experience, demons don't just get the itch to visit angels, fallen or otherwise, especially when the angel in question is holed up with hunters... It isn't how they operate.
Then again, Crowley's a strange demon, and it isn't really all that hard to accept his answer as honest- or as honest as he's going to get- as lips drag across his jaw, teeth nip at his earlobe. He shivers, presses just a bit close and lets his fingers curl further into the wings as he tips his head into the kiss.]
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Crowley murmurs as the angel presses in closer; it's slight, but he can feel it, the way that their bodies are almost flush. The angel's fingers curl further into the soft feathers, and the demon's wings shift, pressing into the touch because he likes this. Having Castiel touch his wings makes his body heat, and he kisses him harder, tongue pressing past his lips, licking against his tongue and trying to tease at that arousal he can see in the angel's eyes.
That finger stroking against Castiel's chest slowly starts unfastening buttons, trying to distract him with the kiss long enough for his fingers to touch skin.]
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His fingers slowly unfastening the pearly buttons of the angel's dress shirt, slipping inside to touch against smooth skin. There's a whimper of protest against the angel's lips when the buttons of his suit coat pop off, and go bouncing along the asphalt somewhere in the dark. But, Crowley can't manage to find it all that important when Castiel's hand slide against his shirt, the other still curling through his feathers. He supposes losing the buttons on one of his jackets is a fair enough price.
But if it becomes a habit, he'd going to have words with the angel. He'd still out a tailor,
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It makes his lips twitch at the way that the angel shivers against his hands and he strokes his hands up his sides, kisses him harder. There's something to this that the demon doesn't talk about, something about Castiel that always makes him want this. It's not just the physical pleasure, it's something more, something Crowley struggles to not look at too closely because he's honestly not sure he wants to know.
His body quakes as hands palm over the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and he can feel the warmth ebbing through the barrier. He moans into the angel's mouth as fingers find his nipples, and Crowley can't help that bratty response of returning the favor.]
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Crowley shivers as fingers touch against the joint of his wing, and it's sensual and heated and he moans into the kiss. The way the angel touches his wings is hot and aching, and he wants/needs those touches. No one else touches his wings, just Cas, not even Dean being a jerk and tugging at the tip of a feather, anymore. He likes that, likes the way that it feels, the way it always seems to spiral into this. Lips locked together and touching against borrowed skin.
He murmurs as hands hold his hips, Castiel rocking that arousal insistently against him. His body is heated, aching with want, and his fingers circle those nipples once more, sliding down his chest. One hand hovering against the angel's side as the other presses against his arousal.]
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He breaks the kiss, tips his head forward to sigh hotly against Crowley's neck as fingers circle his nipples, and he feels his cock twitch against the inside of his slack at the sensation. It shouldn't feel this good, shouldn't have him grinding his hips against Crowley's again, rocking into his hand... But he supposes it's a little bit late to be thinking about what should and should not be happening here- his body's already decided that it wants this, like it always does, and the state of mind for pulling away just isn't there.
His hands grip against Crowley's sides before sliding up, fingers sliding up his back to smooth over the place where the wings meet his body.]
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