(no subject)
Attention World:
Stop.
Not in the name of love. Just...stop. And listen.
Now that I've got your attention, go read this by the_jacksparrow. Graphic. Captivating. Graphic. Imaginative. Graphic. Scandalous. Graphic.
Thank you.
A.J. Crowley
Shirt-tearer
Jack's eyes slid to narrow slits, almost rivaling Crowley's own, which stay protected behind the dark shades. His fingers ruffled the tops of Jack's outfit, pulling and jerking and tugging with a sudden violence that ripped the fabric. Jack groaned, lined eyes crinkled in annoyance. "I got this shirt 'specially-made," he muttered.
Crowley grinned, hissing the few seconds before his lips met Jack's. His tongue snaked in easily against the closed lips, thin and forceful. He tasted the sea-soured lips, fingers deep within the locks of uncared-for black hair. Jack pushed against him, hands expert and rough, gripping the dark, sleek suit Crowley had sought out and bought just earlier that day. Jack's smirk was easy to taste, Crowley's unhidden annoyance biting into Jack's lips with sharp fangs.
Words were cancelled out of Jack's mind when Crowley's fingers snuck beneath the waistband of his trousers, slipping, sliding easily, wrapping and stroking in a way that caused Jack to thrut upward, into and against the touch provided. His hand cupped the growing hardness he felt in the demon's body. It pulsed against the palm of his hand and Jack smiled fiercer, wanting to re-shift the angle between them. Crowley was having none of it, biting into Jack's lips and mouth, teeth running easily over Jack's jawline. Unable to focus, eyes crossing in a dizzy haze, Jack grunted against Crowley's shoulder as he came, spilling onto the pale-white fingers.
"You know," he said drowsily, lolling from side to side with a little more abandon than usual. "You've got to stop doing that when I'm just coming out of the loo."
"What's life without a little surprise?" asked Crowley, re-adjusting his shades.
Jack glowered at him as he struggled to put his trousers on properly, scratching at his stomach in the process. He leaned close, putting his nose close to the demon's. "You ruined my favourite shirt," he growled.
Crowley smiled thinly, keeping his thoughts to himself as Jack pushed past and walked back towards the bar. The smiled widened and curved, flashing dangerously in a way befitting a member of Hell. "Oopsssss," he said quietly, not meaning it at all.
Stop.
Not in the name of love. Just...stop. And listen.
Now that I've got your attention, go read this by the_jacksparrow. Graphic. Captivating. Graphic. Imaginative. Graphic. Scandalous. Graphic.
Thank you.
A.J. Crowley
Shirt-tearer
Jack's eyes slid to narrow slits, almost rivaling Crowley's own, which stay protected behind the dark shades. His fingers ruffled the tops of Jack's outfit, pulling and jerking and tugging with a sudden violence that ripped the fabric. Jack groaned, lined eyes crinkled in annoyance. "I got this shirt 'specially-made," he muttered.
Crowley grinned, hissing the few seconds before his lips met Jack's. His tongue snaked in easily against the closed lips, thin and forceful. He tasted the sea-soured lips, fingers deep within the locks of uncared-for black hair. Jack pushed against him, hands expert and rough, gripping the dark, sleek suit Crowley had sought out and bought just earlier that day. Jack's smirk was easy to taste, Crowley's unhidden annoyance biting into Jack's lips with sharp fangs.
Words were cancelled out of Jack's mind when Crowley's fingers snuck beneath the waistband of his trousers, slipping, sliding easily, wrapping and stroking in a way that caused Jack to thrut upward, into and against the touch provided. His hand cupped the growing hardness he felt in the demon's body. It pulsed against the palm of his hand and Jack smiled fiercer, wanting to re-shift the angle between them. Crowley was having none of it, biting into Jack's lips and mouth, teeth running easily over Jack's jawline. Unable to focus, eyes crossing in a dizzy haze, Jack grunted against Crowley's shoulder as he came, spilling onto the pale-white fingers.
"You know," he said drowsily, lolling from side to side with a little more abandon than usual. "You've got to stop doing that when I'm just coming out of the loo."
"What's life without a little surprise?" asked Crowley, re-adjusting his shades.
Jack glowered at him as he struggled to put his trousers on properly, scratching at his stomach in the process. He leaned close, putting his nose close to the demon's. "You ruined my favourite shirt," he growled.
Crowley smiled thinly, keeping his thoughts to himself as Jack pushed past and walked back towards the bar. The smiled widened and curved, flashing dangerously in a way befitting a member of Hell. "Oopsssss," he said quietly, not meaning it at all.