Chapter Text
“Nnng- ah…” His slender fingers are moving in all the right places. You gasp and squirm in his unrelenting teasing-
“C-Crowley! Mmmph!” He thrust his finger into you harshly.
“Say it again, angel,” he says. “Say my name. It sounds so pretty coming off those lips...”
He kisses your neck, sucking there, right on your sweet spot.
“Crowley-!” you whine, gripping his fiery hair.
“Crowley, what?” He says smiling.
“Please Crowley, I want you,” you say, a blush staining your cheeks a dark red, lust filling your eyes. Crowley’s pupils were blown hearing you say his name like that, his pants straining against the growing bulge. His breath gets caught in his throat. You were gonna be his. All his. You brush your leg against his groin and he dips his head sucking on his teeth. He grabs you and sits you on his lap. You look into his eyes that roam over you possessively. His eyes are so dark that it’s scary, but it only seems to make you more wet. He grips your hair, exposing your neck, and thrusts into you. You scream in pleasure. Kisses slide up your neck as he mumbles. “You’re Mine, all mine.”
You shudder and your insides clench around him. He grins. “That’s my angel.” He thrust into you roughly and you groan from the friction hitting your bud of nerves. He stops, worried he might have hurt you. He wraps a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He kisses your cheek gently. You whimper and whine in impatience.
“Crowley, please fuck me,” you say wiggling your hips. He twitches inside you and his grip tightens. He has to control himself. You’re only human, your body fragile.
“You might not be so innocent after this,” he says with a smirk as he lays you back on the bed.
He starts grinding into you, slowly and deeply. You trail your hands over his chest and he jumps, thrusting roughly into you. You bite your lip in satisfaction. You touch him again, his hips bucking into you.
“A-angel, don’t- d-do that- ah!” he grips the frame of the bed, cracking it and his wings shoot out. You smile mischievously, your fingers diving into his feathers before he can say anything. “A-angel, I’m not gonna be able to control myself,” he says as the bed frame breaks in his hand.
“Then don’t.”
“But, I could hurt you, I- mm!” You were stroking the base of his wings, the most sensitive part making him tremble. He wrapped his arms around you, bringing you into an upright position as he bounced you, letting his self control melt into the pleasure you were giving him. You moan and squirm. He wraps his wings around the two of you protectively as he moans into your shoulder, a scarlet, panting mess. You run your hands through his hair, a knot building in your stomach. His thrust becomes faster and more erratic. His grip has become bruising, but the pain of it mixes with the pleasure and you find yourself mewling into his hair as he goes faster and faster. You cry out his name in encouragement, and when you feel both of you edging, you slip your hand down to the base of his wings. He gasps and whines, his wings quaking. You both come at the same time, his release flushing into your system, stretching, filling, and warm. His wings remain quaking with whimpers escaping his lips, and you realize you are still clutching a fistful of feathers in your hand. You let go of them and you both flop onto the bed, breathless and red faced. “You’re not as innocent as I thought, Angel,” Crowley says with a smile, his yellow slitted eyes meeting yours. “You knew what you were doing.”
“And you were more adorable than I thought you were going to be,” you say with a teasing smile. He gives you the bitch face and rolls his eyes, before looking down at your body. His marks cover you. Hand shaped bruises were blooming on your shoulders and sides, purple hickeys up your neck with a few bite marks.
“Hey,” you say gently, lifting his face up to yours. He wouldn’t meet your eyes. You kiss him on the lips, loving and slow. He recuperates the action.
“I don’t mind the marks,” you say as you break the kiss, “now everyone will know I’m yours.” Crowley looks at you with wonder and a furrowed brow.
“Are you sure you aren't an angel,” he jokes, but you can tell that it really means a lot to him. You smile and brush the hair out of his eyes. You couldn’t be more happy, and you memorise every line, contour and shadow of his face, admiring the different hues of yellow that make up his irises. You want to stay in this moment forever.
“I love you, Crowley” He smiles softly at that, pink dusting his face.
“I love you too, my sweet Angel.”