🔞 Explicit quotes from my fics to tempt the thirsty 🔞
Crowley telling about his sprituality & sexuality in Where The Silent Moonlight Falls 🔥🖤
Crowley sounds a clap with showmanship as high as he can reach, and he majestically sinks into a shape Aziraphale is quite abashed to see–a serpent burying his glinting scales into the sparkling grey sand at his feet, in an undulating groove, marking a fresh circle around them. When he meets his tail, he tucks his head over his body, stilling with an air of elegance, looking to Aziraphale with a serene gaze.
Crowley's resume of techniques for 'trysts' is very elaborate and artful, his tales winding along as one would expect of a serpent, almost trance inducing in focus. If spared the scrutiny of good and evil and do's and dont's. . .Aziraphale has to admit, conceptually, it is beautiful. He feels very relaxed within himself he finds, imagining such possibilities.
But there's so much he doesn't know. He's. . .to put it conventionally, both a virgin and untouched by his own hand. Up to this point he'd assumed, much like eating, it ought not to be done by him, as an angel. Though at times it had been a sore inconvenience bodily. More often than not only around Crowley, inducing more irritability than just rivalry he must be patient through.
The frankincense in his lungs and the golden eyes of someone who knows him all too well, they have such a freeing, unbinding quality. He feels like himself. He feels loved. He feels safe.
And. . . much better than around other angels, and humans, he thinks guiltily.
Aziraphale confessing just how focused his memory is in The Night Has Come, But Not Too Soon 💧⭐️
"What first?" Crowley's fingertips pinch Aziraphale's zipper, inching it down, brushing them into his soaked fly, grazing his cock, between soft and hard now, coaxing it through split fabric.
"It's all yours to decide, my love." Aziraphale's gaze runs down his body, Crowley reaching his tongue under the head of his cock, to brace the steady pulse of it, sometimes a gush infused with as much light as a star gliding onto it. "I seem to remember a hundred tales of pleasure you told me, and I'd have done any with you."
Crowley hums, the husky sound vibrating through his long neck, even across his arched tongue. As drops slide into his mouth, his lashes tremble against his cheek, inhaling scent as much as tasting, his expression transcendent. His fingertips tap to the underside of the angel's length, and he exhales smoothly, tongue retracting, lips sealing, and golden eyes focused on Aziraphale's softened cock, tilting downward on his palm.
"Did you fantasize about those, Angel?"
Crowley's hands massaging the back of Aziraphale's neck in Where The Silent Moonlight Falls 🤲💓
"My hands are staying right here." Crowley's eyes sweep over Aziraphale's chest, the rising of deep breaths in time with his own. "Now your hands. Palms up." Aziraphale bends his elbows, forearms angled naturally upward, like hands that bless. "Lay 'em slowly down, resting on your thighs." Aziraphale sighs again, all his focus on the weight of his wrists on his thighs and the movement of Crowley's fingers over the muscles in his neck. "That's it, Angel. How's that feel?"
"Natural. It's wonderfully calming."
"Turn the right hand a little inward, fingertips together, touch those under there, right where it meets your body, just rest 'em." Aziraphale brushes his fingers to the underside of his cock, joining them lightly on the skin."
Crowley's fingers still. He taps two together, and strokes them up Aziraphale's neck.
"Feel that slow pace? Now you do it, rise to the tip."
Aziraphale can feel it with wondrous detail, everything that nerves and anticipation bloom into. It radiates to places in his body he didn't know would feel connected.
Aziraphale's hands cradling Crowley's neck as he cradles his in The Night Has Come, But Not Too Soon ✨️🫦
Crowley's hand slips under Aziraphale's neck to hold him softly and safely, melting into the passion of their kiss. From his side he plays with re-entering the enveloping heat of his angel's body, deepening his thrusts in unfolding need, Aziraphale spreading open in return, with rolls of his hips before each time Crowley pulls away, thrilling his prostate. Cum flows steadily to the rhythm of their dance, beaded and glowing over the pleasure coated skin of Aziraphale's hip. Crowley can barely contain every growling response to that scent, soaked in the warmth of their lips.
Why is it so goddamn arousing and distracting? If he doesn't drink it soon, like a river, he's gonna lose it.
Aziraphale's fingers slide against the back of Crowley's neck. A pleasured gasp parts their lips and a whisper of a name, "Aziraphale". Their arms complete a loving circle, each holding tightly as they dwell within their sealed cloister of tongue and breath. Of need and nourish. Aziraphale hums, more of his gratitude reaching to embrace Crowley's heart. To sigh in serenade with how it feels, his lover moving inside him.
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