Heβs grateful that his stumbling attempt at explaining any part of his thought process is understoodβ but donβt they? Understand each other. Heβs not sure any two souls in the world can determine ( once the anxious itch of vulnerability subsides ) each otherβs desires more. They want each other, at the end of the day, and it seems tonight they arenβt standing in their own way. For once.
No hesitation in following the angelβs lead; being drunk is for people who donβt have a better reason to be intimate with each other. For just about the first, real time in his life, Crowley has another reason; one that fills him with a more comfortable warmth than the alcohol.
Although heβs thinking ( and likely able to speak ) more clearly, he decides against further conversation. They donβt need it. And with every bit of the same passion and desire, Crowley leans back in for another kiss; his turn for fingers to settle upon a thigh, groping and rubbing their way up.Β
the angel practically keens at the contact , arching into crowleyβs touch as if a moment without it might kill him , send him melting into a terrifying nothingness from which no being , celestial or not , has returned . and he grasps at the other , desperately , to hold on , and to draw him closer . to deepen the kiss , to moan into it like he hasnβt been kissed like this since the 19th century . which , frankly , he has not .Β
and this pent-up desire , from far longer than a couple hundred years ago , burns within his chest with such ferocity that even when sober , aziraphale feels inebriated . drunk on the feeling of crowleyβs firm hands on him , exploring , groping . and his own hands curl into the loose fabric around the demonβs shoulders , draw him closer .Β
β crowleyβββ β a surprised sound , when the demonβs hand brushes over the tent in his perfectly kept trousers . a more demanding sound afterwards , when said hand moves on .Β β darling i thinkβββ i think we should take this upstairs . β a stolen peck on the lips , and aziraphale attempts to stand . aching , and very much eager to get on with it.
If one looks closely enough, they might be able to see every bit of color drain from Crowleyβs face as Aziraphale disentangles himself and sits a bit more properly. As if there were some sort of string ( red, perhaps ) tied from the angelβs heart to his, Crowleyβs form moves in tandem to lean in closely againβ not so much that heβs over top of him, but enough that he can reach out to take one of the suddenly-idle hands.
βI didnβt mean it like that! I want toβ Iβ Itβs justββ Aziraphale is likely familiar with the clumsy stumbling of a tongue normally so sharp and clever; itβs been reduced to a lump in his mouth more often than not in the angelβs presence. He tries not to showcase his worry that heβs gone and messed it all up, but the smile itβs hidden behind is shaky.Β βWant to be sure, yβknow? Iβmβ Care about you more thanβ¦ that.β
a furrowed brow indicates aziraphale's mild , drunken confusion . he blinks , and nods in understanding , though still hesitates to accept crowleyβs words for what they are . cares about him more ? more than what ?Β β rightβββ iββΒ β the angel peers down at their entwined fingers and swallows . he is too drunk to form coherent thought about that .Β
and so he decides , suddenly , that perhaps it would be best to be sober ββ at least mostly ββ for this occasion . even if it pains him to do so , and he frets the awkwardness of it all , the inhibitions , the fumbling . the emptied bottles fill up , and the angel winces , the world settles into its place and sobriety sets his feet firmly upon the ground of reality .Β
a reality which , frankly , feels everything but . aziraphale is warm . too warm βββ hot . blushing , even if he is no longer drunk . he feels tight . his trousers feel tight . and he blinks up at crowley , hesitant , worried that the moment is ruined . that sobriety is too much for them .
Thereβs a gentle, needy insistence to the angelβs body language; heβs practically pouring himself over Crowley, by the time they part lips again, and the building anticipation towards something else festers into near-tangible atmosphere around themβ no longer space betweenβ and it takes everything in the demonβs limited self-restraint not to immediately throw Aziraphale to the floor in spontaneous, hungry passion.
He wants toβ and he thinks Aziraphale might not mind it so much, right now, eitherβ but the permeating scent of wine and the fumbling hands upon his body send a sense of unrest through him.Β βLoveββ He almost winces at his voice, as low and breathy as it is; afraid it may break the moment. What he says next almost certainly will.Β βAre youβ¦ sure about this? Weβre both a bitβ¦β A gesture to the abandoned wine glass.
it comes as if a slap to the face , harsh and sudden and dreadfully sobering . from drunk , fumbling and desperate to collected and rational is a dizzying leap for aziraphale , who blinks dumbly and retreats , like a struck animal , from crowleyβs lap . perhaps he had been too forward . too drunk . too eager , and out of line . crowley might have not liked it . or perhaps he is afraid of the consequences , which is entirely fair , even if they are drunk .Β
β no , noββ youβre right this , β the angel straightens his collar , red-faced and fingers trembling ever so slightly ,Β β this is a bad idea . i apologise , crowley . β he considers wether or not he should truly sober up , but decides facing this situation without the pleasant numbing haze of alcohol would surely kill him .Β
Heβs easily ( willingly and completely ) lost in everything about Aziraphaleβ it surrounds him until heβs sure thereβs nothing worth noticing beyond the warmth flooding his body and the flush of fever that ensnares his mind. Itβs much more than the wineβ oh.
βY-Yeah. Right.β Heβs careful, but certainly hurried, as the bottom of the wine glass comes into firm contact with the small table surface nearby. Hands now both free, they reach out to wrap around the angel andΒ pull him into a more secure embrace.Β βRather be holding you, anyway.β A small comment under his breath before his lips are moving to capture Aziraphaleβs once again.Β
a bright , adoring smile is only dulled by the demonβs lips on his own , hungry and drunk , yet precise in their movements . unlike the angelβs hands , which fumble , and grasp at clothing until the two are pressed flush together , aziraphale practically in crowleyβs lap on the small , suddenly awfully uncomfortable settee .Β
the kiss breaks once again , and the angel is left licking his lips , chasing after the taste of wine lingering in his mouth . and it is as if crowleyβs lips are meant on his , with the sudden loss of contact dragging out a desperation for more . but heβs drunk , and canβt quite word what he wants . more ? something else ? aziraphale shifts impatiently , hoping that crowley would simply understand . to give him everything .
Too fast. Too fast. Those are the only words he can hearβ but he hasnβt. Not yet. Heβs been goodβ as good as he may ever beβ for the angel that evening. Heβs been patient; waiting for that elusive, particular attention to dote upon him, drawing in closer and closer and closerΒ untilβ
Thereβs a small, surprised sound in the back of his throat as Aziraphaleβs fingers curl inward, and a hand still holding a half-full wine glass jolts hard enough to nearly slosh the dark liquid from the glass.Β βAngelββ No. Best not to talk. So, instead, his other hand reaches out for short curls, gripping them to pull the tempter in for a kiss.
the wine never spills , but what instead does , is the delightful , hungry appreciation which aziraphale showers upon the demon . it spills into the kiss as he licks into crowleyβs mouth , his tongue numbed by the wine , and ears ringing . he tastes nothing , nothing but the aftertaste of old port , and a hint of tobacco , likely from himself . and he hears the blood rushing in his veins , his hands grasping onto rumpled clothes , crowleyβs soft sighing .Β
the kiss could last forever , and aziraphale would have it so , but the glass of wine is in the way . layers of clothing are in the way .Β β would you put the glass down , darling , β a kind request , and the angel smiles , wet lips glistening in the candlelight .Β
recently iβve noticed that the rpc seems to have trouble interacting with eachotherβand iβve seen a few of these memes go around, but i thought iβd make another!
β β iβm unfamiliar with your muse(s).
π β you intimidate me a lot.
π β you donβt reblog a lot of memes, and i usually interact through memes.
π‘ β you donβt post a lot of opens, and i usually interact through opens.
β β i honestly havenβt gotten around to it yet.
π β i ship our muses, and iβm worried thatβll upset you.
π β iβm a little intimidated by your writing length/style/formatting.
π€ β you followed me first and iβm waiting for you to make the first move.
π£οΈ β i donβt have any ideas for plots readily available.
βοΈ β iβve sent memes/messages to you before, but you ignored them.
1. Who has been your favorite muse to play?
2. Do you listen to music while you write? If so, what do you like to listen to?
3. Are there any particular aus or plots that youβd really like to write?
4. What are some of your rp pet peeves?
5. What is the most difficult thing about writing your current muse?
6. What is your favorite thing about writing your current muse?
7. Who was the very first muse you ever wrote?
8. Have you ever written a novel? If not, does it interest you?
9. Do you write fanfiction, or have you in the past?
10. Do you like stylized icons and formatted text or do you prefer to keep things simple?
11. When did you start roleplaying?
12. Have you roleplayed anywhere other than tumblr?
13. Who are five of your favorite characters? (In the rp community or otherwise)
14. What are five of your favorite ships? (In the rp community or otherwise)
15. What sort of muses do you tend to write?
16. Do you like to queue your replies or just post them when you finish?
17. Do you prefer winging it or plotting everything out?
18. What makes for a great roleplay partner in your opinion?
19. Have you received anon hate? If so, how do you deal with it?
20. If you could tell your muse something, what would it be?
hi everyone ! iβm back from my little hiatus (which i didnβt even announce because it was unexpectedβ’) and am ready to get shit done ! i have 21 drafts and closer to 50 asks , but before i get to those iβll redo my icons and make new ones . also psa !! i got my blog theme running finally !!!! thots ?
baratheonpilled
discoholicmusic
origamiaround
kianamaiart
tangentwithtanner
jacobvanloon
