bakerstreet | Tease, tease, please

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Tease, tease, please

"What You Do To Me" Meme

You're only made of flesh and blood - unless you aren't, in which case we apologize for making assumptions. However, the point still stands that you, as a person, can only stand so much of what you find alluring before you want to act on it. No matter if you're usually uninterested in anything carnal, you're interested in what your significant other/partner/crush/random acquaintance is doing now. They have to be teasing you - or you're teasing yourself.

Perhaps you can hold out, or maybe you're going to cave in and tell them just what they're doing to you. Or better yet, show them

Prompts

Innocent: They don't know what they're doing. That's part of the appeal!
Purposefully: Oh, they know they're winding you up. And they'll keep doing it. And doing it...
Long Time: This awkward dance has been going on for a while. You've just about reached your breaking point.
Closeness: Come together, right now, bring the world together. Of course, making peace and being all cozy is decidedly more difficult when you're close to someone insanely hot.
Sexy Getup: A skirt like that should be illegal. Or what about that v-neck top that shows off their muscles? Hnngh.
Wearing Your Clothes: There's something sensual about seeing them in your clothes.
Action: The movement of their lips, a chaste kiss, sucking on some innocent foodstuff, the way they rub their foot against your leg...it's too much!
Situation: They've gotten all angry and flustered, or you've been gone for a while, or any sort of unique situation has turn you on.
Location: Location, location, it's all about where you are, and perhaps the forbidden aspect of doing anything here.
Usual: You always fall for their charms. It's actually kind of embarrassing.
Unusual: You're a brick wall. Sex doesn't interest you, not regularly. Until now, that is.
Say the Words: They win; you're telling them how they make you feel, in all the gritty details.
Complete Loss of Control: You can't help yourself, you have to have them, no matter how it makes you look.

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[Here, have a street punk (and/or student) who tries his best but doesn't do a very good job at hiding his enormous crush and UST. ...prompt-wise, obviously, strong odds of 5, but I'm open to situational alternatives like 4 if they have to keep warm, or 6 if she has to borrow a shirt--or even 1 if she's the one who can't resist something-or-other that he's doing while trying to be respectful and subtle. I'm fine with AUing in either direction, however you prefer.]

(( ooc: Oh look, a favorite subject of mine! Up for all prompts and you can either tease him or he can (awkwardly but in a very determined way) tease you. Kink list is a href=https://www.f-list.net/c/ukithemaid/>here yo, if things get too lewd! ))

[If NOT Crowley: Angel-boy here would be quite susceptible to 4/Closeness. (OC/cross-canon/any gender or sentient species welcomed!)
If Crowley: Most of these could easily apply in one way or another, on either side.]

[Continuation from tfln]

Crowley is coming over to share Aziraphale's sinfully orgasmic crepes, and Aziraphale is delighted. He's also drunk on Grand Marnier. But the drunk flirting texts were effective, and that's what really matters!

Five minutes isn't much warning, though. When Crowley walks into the bookshop, Aziraphale is still reclining decadently on his couch, with his shoes off and stripped down to his waistcoat. The half-finished dishes with orange wedges and Chantilly creme and crepes and the liquor bottle are all arranged on the floor within easy reach.

He grins up at Crowley. "Don't ask me t'sober up first. If I... lose my nerve... I will regret that!"

Crowley erupts into the shop with a great deal of urgency, but it isn't until he spots the angel all sprawled out that his knees begin to feel weak.

"Look at you, angel," he teases, it clear from his own speech that he's had quite a bit to drink himself. "You appear t'have eaten your fill. Didn't you sssave any room'fr me?"

Crowley certainly managed to convince Aziraphale that he's still cool and unaffected, with his cute teasing. Yes, Crowley was clearly sloshed too, but that just made his swagger more pronounced and slow. It hadn't slowed down his quipping.

Like always, Aziraphale would struggle valiantly to keep up with the witty repartee. Like always, he wouldn't manage, but this time the angel's only goal was to keep up the flirting long enough to lure Crowley close.

"How could I have 'eaten my fffill?'" He shifts lazily to a slightly more upright position and grins in a very good-natured suggestive manner.

"Six thousand years and I've never had a.... proper taste of you. I'm starving."

If Crowley hadn't discorporated right there it would be a miracle on its own. Aziraphale may think that Crowley is a master at flirtatious quips, but it was Aziraphale who left the demon utterly speechless.

It didn't take him long to saunter over to the sofa the angel had reclined on and sloppily crash down upon it.

"Well then." he finally managed, and it was all he could manage. "Wellllll theeeen. Welly well, well--"

His drunken ramblings aside, he was rather close now, and his hands were impatiently snaking out to touch Aziraphale, or ideally, knot themselves in that heavenly-soft hair.

Humans sometimes refer to it as "liquid courage." A more accurate description would be "bottled bad decisions."

The bad decision Aziraphale is currently making involves reaching out to grab hold of Crowley's body and tug it down so they could be securely against each other. What possible use is giving into temptation half-heartedly? The damage is done either way, so why not enjoy it as much as possible?

Or try to, at any rate. Aziraphale ends up passionately kissing Crowley's cheekbone instead of his lips. At least he has the sense to let go quickly when he realizes his mistake.

"Hmm," he says, a bit disgruntled about failing to hit the target and not knowing what to do about it.

Crowley let out a small yelp as he was tugged down, which devolved into a low groan as he felt the angel's lips on him. It didn't matter that they weren't on his own, not yet, anyway. The angel did suggest that he wanted a better taste of him, after all.

Crowley's hands slithered around Aziraphale's neck, cradling the base of his head. He used this position to reguide their lips together, a messy wet kiss that stunk of alcohol, but made Crowley moan nonetheless.

Oh, that's much better, yes. It's a bit of a drawback that Aziraphale's sense of touch was a bit muted by drunkenness, but the ability to bypass the second-guessing stage more than makes up for it. The frowning "hmm" sound turned into a pleased chuckling one and Aziraphale did his best to kiss back, wrapping his arms gently around Crowley's body. They fit rather well together.

His blunted sense of taste wasn't necessarily a bad thing, though. Grand Marnier didn't mix very well with whatever Crowley had been drinking.

Crowley crawled over Aziraphale's body until he was properly straddling the angel, his body pressed flush against Aziraphale's as they kissed. In his drunkenness, Crowley wasn't particularly poised, and the whining noises that erupted from his throat were loud enough to make his lips buzz.

His fingers tugged gently at Aziraphale's curls, maintaining a tight grip as if it was the only thing keeping the two of them connected.

What good would it do to be "poised" in these circumstances? Or polite, reserved, or cool. That sort of thing would ruin the fun. The situation requires enthusiasm, wild abandon, single-minded pursuit of base gratification, and yes, even desperate need. Crowley expressing such a strong desire that his coordination is overwhelmed is what makes the moment perfect.

Aziraphale grins into the kiss and his hands quickly shift to Crowley's hips, grip tightening quite noticeably. Who knows, at this rate the angel might even have some reason to form proper genitals.

The hands on Crowley's hips encourage him to push them forward, digging into Aziraphale's whether there's something under his trousers or not. Crowley himself had become quite accustomed to changing his own as required, but had found he quite liked wearing a vulva; it made his tight pants fit much better.

One of Crowley's hands drops from the angels hair to trace down his neck and chest. For as undone as Aziraphale is, there are still far too many layers on his body for Crowley's liking.

Oh, right. Clothes. Aziraphale didn't think of that. Good thing Crowley is on top of the situation! On top of Aziraphale, too, if he bothered to think about it, but that would be a waste of perfectly good thinking. Especially right now, with thinking in such short supply.

In any case, Aziraphale lets one of his arms drop to the floor so that Crowley has some room to work. The angel's other hand now has to do the job for both, and so Aziraphale switches to running his fingers up and into Crowley's hair.

Keeping the kiss aimed correctly is posing a greater challenge than he expected, but he'll soldier on.

Crowley groans as he feels the hand in his hair again, and his hips jut forward instinctively. Crowley's hands are having a bit of trouble trying to undo Aziraphale's clothes, and in a rare moment of clearheaded thought he snaps his fingers to get the work done a bit quicker, lest he ruin his clothes for good.

Clever move, miracling Aziraphale's clothes unbuttoned like that! Crowley can be so creative. It makes the angel grin in delight. Still, this is no time to get distracted over mundane things. Not with Crowley in such a cooperative mood.

It's not easy, giving Crowley enough room to work when their bodies could be crushed up against each other instead. Aziraphale groans impatiently, wriggling his shoulders to help the clothing removal process along. "You taste much better n' the crepes..."

Crowley's hands can't wait another second to grasp at Aziraphale's chest and stomach. He groans as he does so, nails scratching lightly down his flesh as their kissing continues.

"Mm. Wouldn't know, you never had me taste them." he teases, taking his hands from Aziraphale's stomach just long enough to get the clothing off of his arms, and then immediately sliding them back around his torso. "Ah-- I 'magine they'll be disappointing after tasting you."

"Even 'f you do like them better 'n the end..." Aziraphale arches his back into Crowley's touch. "I get ta haf you first!"

Time for some frivolous miracles, just to make a bad situation worse. Aziraphale holds up a hand, collects his wits as best he can, then grasps Crowley's collar and yanks sharply like a stage magician pulling a tablecloth out from under a tower of champagne glasses. Except with an actual miracle so all of Crowley's clothing remains intact. Not paying attention anymore, he drops Crowley's miraculously intact clothing onto a half-eaten plate of crepes.

Skin against skin, both sides warmed by alcohol, is extraordinarily pleasant. "Can I haf you, Crowley? Let's do sex!"

"Hiiiighly doubt I will," he groans nipping gently at the corner of Aziraphale's lips. "Not that I mind at all."

Normally, Crowley would be quite irritated by a magic show, probably even complain, but no awful magic trick the angel has ever displayed got them so wonderfully close before, and that alone makes Crowley a fan.

"Let's wot?!" Crowley cackles loudly, his face pressed close against the angel's. "Aziraphale! No!" he scolds, still laughing. "S'not how you say that. Sounds ridiculous..." he continues, his laughter settling as he leans back to gaze affectionately in that precious, naive face. His hand slides back and grips those downy curls tight and Crowley leans in again, softly groaning as he feels their flesh touch, and kisses along Aziraphale's jaw. "Fuck me." he whispers in his ear.

In Aziraphale's opinion, the way Crowley said it was even more ridiculous considering that the term "fuck me" is typically spoken to express acute irritation. That's just asking for trouble.

The angel optimistically chooses to interpret Crowley's words as an invitation. "If you insist!" he exclaims jovially and begins to tug at Crowley's trousers in a gently uncoordinated way.

Aziraphale should be impressed that Crowley managed to say as much as he did, considering the amount of alcohol in his bloodstream is enough to blackout an entire sorority. Regardless, Crowley's pleased in the response, and after another short chuckle, peppers kisses along the angel's neck. "I do."

He shifts slightly over Aziraphale so that they have more room between them to disrobe. Crowley really does not fancy standing at the moment, nor does he wish the angel to, so thankfully he has more miracles up his sleeves (or lack thereof). He doesn't bother with half the amount of flair that Aziraphale does when performing such tricks, a simple snap of his fingers removes Aziraphale's trousers entirely, leaving them draped lovingly over a chair across the room.

Later, when Aziraphale is capable of noticing such things, he will be deeply touched by Crowley's consideration with his century-old clothing. Right now, he doesn't notice or care.

The sudden nakedness somehow comes as a surprise and he "meeps!" and then chuckles, continuing to tug gently at Crowley's clothing even though a better solution is staring him in the face.

"Shall I 'fffuck you' wif male organs?"

Crowley purs at the angel's words, giddy with the idea of feeling so full with Aziraphale. His hips push forward into Aziraphale's, even if there's nothing quite there yet, a tease of what's to come.

"Mmm yessss, angel." he growls, licking his lips eagerly. Crowley too can think of other ways he'd like to please the angel without the requirement of removing more clothing, but isn't sure his coordination is up to the task. Only one way to find out...

It's delightful, the way Crowley's voice alone can raise goosebumps on Aziraphale's skin, but the way that Crowley's body presses against his feels positively intoxicating, much more so than any liquor could be. With a lazy flourish of the wrist Aziraphale miracles himself a respectable set of masculine genitals.

"Best start there, then..."

Then he gasps as soon as he feels the surging reaction his new accessories have to Crowley's hip grinding. And here the angel had wondered if he would need to put conscious effort in to form a proper erection.

"Oh, it all seems to be 'n working order!"

"Oh? I should take a closer look..."

Crowley is nothing if not eager, and as temptong as it sounds to ride Aziraphale until he forgets his own name, he's found himself in an adventurous little mood. He slides off of the angel's lap, almost toppling over the coffee table, and seats himself before Aziraphale on his knees.

He's seen this done before, definitely heard enough humans tell each other to do it. Crowley himself, ever the curious serpent, wants to give it a try. Carefully, he lean forward and grabs the base of Aziraphale's new cock, giving it a firm squeeze. He gazes excitedly up to the angel, gauging his reaction.

Confused that Crowley seems to be getting up to leave, Aziraphale sits up to give him a curious look. Then Crowley reaches out with his hands and--

"--Oh!"

Aziraphale reaches his arms out to steady himself on the couch so he doesn't simply slide off in a flailing heap from the burst of sensation. Yes, the new equipment seems to be working quite well indeed.

Crowley chuckles softly, pleased with the reaction, and braces himself by grasping on of Aziraphale's thighs with his free hand. He leans in more, his inhuman tongue sliding out of his mouth. Crowley is still quite drunk, and is positively drooling over what is to come, but it takes him a moment to consider the right angle for approach. His tongue licks a long stripe from the base of Aziraphale's cock to the tip, keeping his fingers around it to help guide it to his mouth.

Yellow eyes flicker up to catch the angel's reactions again, and remain locked there as his tongue encircles the head of Aziraphale's cock before pulling it into his mouth where Crowley sucks it hard, releasing it with a pop.

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Tease, tease, please

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