weary_head | (no subject)

Entry tags:

angua,
naughty

(no subject)

Midnight found Dean wandering, this time with a bottle of booze. Its quality was as dubious as its color (somewhere between pink and a watery melon), but it did the trick, and Dean thanked the life that had enabled him to sneak so easily into the Hub and steal it away with every burning swallow.

He didn't go to the waterfall this time. Sam had found him there too easily. Strange, that it should be harder than ever to talk to Sam about the deal now that he knew. No burden had been lifted, only another settled on top of the first, and the weight of Sam's disappointment and grief was more than Dean could bear most evenings. Gulping down another awful swallow, he wondered if he'd ever sleep a night through again.

And so it was that he found himself at Angua's hut. He told himself that he wanted to see her new digs, which was true. Why he needed to see them at this time of night, he didn't bother making excuses for. He was too busy making a hell of a lot of noise tripping over her front step.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was funny, because Angua was breathing so heavily, yet she felt like she wasn't getting any oxygen at all. His mouth felt good, and the way he was looking at her, she had to look away. Her hand found his head with a light touch, her fingers in his hair.

Dean's eyes drifted closed, and for a while he let himself be lost in the feel of her, his mouth warm against her even warmer skin. It'd been a while since he'd touched anybody, especially since coming to the island, and it didn't occur to him to take it any slower than he already had. Giving full attention to one breast with his mouth, he closed his hand around the other, pushing the heavy weight of it against his calloused palm.

Angua let out a low moan that sort of came and went, that she hardly even noticed she was doing. Her fingers threaded in his hair, she held him close in case he dared move away just yet. The unpredictability of it, the differences in smell and touch, the softness and warmth of Dean's mouth, gods, he could stay there as long as he liked.

Edited 2008-04-06 17:36 (UTC)

That moan did something to Dean, vibrating up from her body to his. He felt it burn him as it went, but comfortably this time, and when the heat began to pool in his belly he welcomed it. He flicked his tongue against her, wanting to hear it again.

Angua's response was unconscious, a soft sound of encouragement. She was very still at the moment, and watchful, trying to take in every single sensation that he brought to her.

Concentrating as he was, it took a while for it to register how still she was, and while nothing seemed wrong, it didn't seem quite right, either. He lifted his head to look at her for a moment, then hooked his arm beneath her waist, rolling them both onto their sides. Maybe if he wasn't squashing her, holding her down, she wouldn't tell him to stop, because god knew he didn't want to.

Face to face now, Dean leaned forward, touching the tip of his nose to hers and hoping he could kiss her again.

Dean really was sweet, gods, he was so sweet. It wasn't like Angua had expected him to be rough or mean, she had just assumed, a man so deep in his cups would be more...impatient, or selfish. Would be a little more hurried. And she hadn't minded the thought, because she had been feeling a little selfish herself. But now everything she'd thought had been thrown out the window. The truth was, she'd wanted to like it, but she hadn't wanted to like it this much.

"Damn," Angua whispered, their faces so close she could feel his breath. She brought a leg around his and closed the distance with a kiss, urging his lips open with her tongue.

Edited 2008-04-06 20:13 (UTC)

He'd have asked what she meant by that, but her mouth was on his again, and Dean opened for it, stroking his tongue along hers with a satisfied groan. His hand found her leg where it wrapped around him, ghosting against her thigh until he grabbed at it, pulling it higher around his waist. "You got long legs," he murmured, stealing a hand beneath the back of her tiny pajama bottoms.

"The better to wrap around you with, my dear?" Angua replied, her voice coming out low and husky. She pressed her hips forward at Dean's touch and kissed him again. It wasn't long before her hand found his shoulder and pushed, pressing him back against the pillows with herself on top. She straddled Dean and sat up, looking down at him while she let her breathing even out. She meant to say something, maybe something clever about him helping her out of her shorts, or anything at all, but nothing came out.

Dean shifted beneath her. Parts of him had taken an interest in proceedings all along, but with her sitting on top of him, his jeans were most decidedly growing uncomfortable. The rest of him was still heavy and warm with alcohol, however, and he smiled up at her from her pillows, lifting his head for another kiss.

Angua hesitated only a moment, but dipped down to kiss him again. She stretched out her body along his, knees and elbows braced on the bed. Her hair fell like a curtain around their faces as they kissed, and she brought her hands underneath his head to hold him there.

Dean lifted his hands to cup her face in turn, his fingers framing her cheeks carefully before going to tangle in her hair. Sometimes he felt like every atom of him was afraid, and powerless to prevent what was happening to him, but this contact was something that he understood. This was something he could give in to and not be afraid. His hips bucked up against hers, seeking friction of their own accord, and he clutched at her hip to hold her where she was.

Angua gasped and moaned loudly into Dean's mouth, her own hands fisting in his hair when he moved against her. She moved, too, the friction of his jeans enough to send jolts of pleasure through her. Her breasts dragged and pressed along his chest at her body's movement, and that, too, felt amazing.

His necklace was trapped between them, its cool metal in contrast with the warm weight of her body, but Dean didn't think for a second of taking it off. Her fingers were tight in his hair to the point of pain, and Dean found he liked this, too, encouraging it with a sharp toss of his head.

What wasn't enjoyable was the ever increasing pressure at his groin, and his fingers snaked down between them to flick the button of his jeans open, the ensuing sigh of relief very nearly pornographic.

Dean's fingers brushed against her and she let out a small sound in answer to his own sigh. Angua lifted then, raised up to kneel so that their hips weren't touching. She wanted to take her shorts off, but it seemed so suddenly monumental that she froze where she knelt, breathing hard, her face flushed from everything they'd been doing. Gods, was she really doing this?

"Dean," she whispered, a silent plea in her eyes. If he did it for her, it wouldn't be her choice alone.

Lips parted as he watched her, Dean gave her a minute nod, holding out his hands for her to return to him. When she was again secure against him, he stroked a hand down her back, letting his fingers slide beneath the hem of those little silk things she was wearing.

The silk was soft, but she was softer still beneath, and Dean pulled them down and away slowly, Angua still snug against his body and not so exposed.

Angua all but burrowed against Dean, feeling immediately foolish for it, but somehow better all the same. She trembled a little, swallowing past the tightness in her throat. She'd missed behind touched like this, held like this. But he wasn't Carrot.

And then she was naked. She pressed her nose to Dean's jaw. "Your turn," she whispered.

Dean's hand curled around her hip, holding her still against those shivers as he shifted his own. "Wanna help?"

Nothing felt better than taking his jeans off at the end of a long day, except for when somebody else was doing it for him.

Angua raised her head to meet Dean's gaze and smirked, pushing her emotions back down. She felt like she was going a little mad, but just as soon as she looked at him she was drawn back in. "Lazy," she teased, and leaned in to kiss him again. She held the side of his face, trailing her fingers down and followed with her mouth, pressing kisses along his neck.

She kissed down his chest, swirled her tongue along his skin, and reached both hands down for his jeans. "Lift your hips," she instructed as she unzipped, and when he did she began to pull them, and whatever he wore underneath, off.

Dean lifted obediently, his fingers closing lightly against her shoulders as she divested him of his jeans and, damn, his boxers, too.

"Oh, frisky," he grinned, lowering his bare bottom back to the sheets. He didn't think a thing of being naked with her. Skin to skin was infinitely easier than heart to heart, and always had been.

Angua stretched back out on top of him without comment, her hair fanned out, her limbs settled around him. She looked down at him for a long moment before leaning back in, their noses close.

"Tell me you want it," she murmured, her mouth hovering close to his.

If his heart rate hadn't racheted up several degrees at the feel of her naked body against his, what came out of her mouth just then would've done the job.

"Oh god, yes," Dean breathed out, tightening his hands around her slim shoulders. He could feel the warm core of her settled against his hip, and he lifted them again, panting when he slid against her belly.

Angua caught the end of Dean's reply with her mouth, kissing him hotly, shifting and moving her body with his. She broke away not a moment later, resting her forehead against his as she reached down between them. He was solid in her hand, warm, and she stroked once just to hear him moan.

It was a little terrifying how badly she wanted him, so she wasted no time directing him to her entrance. She raised up a little and then slowly, slowly lowered herself down.

"Gods," she moaned, lowering her head.

Dean might've protested the lack of condom had he not been drunk, but all rational thoughts would have left him anyway the moment her hot flesh closed around him.

His breath left him in a hiss, his hands stealing down to wrap around her hips as she sank down. "Fuck, Angua."

Angua whimpered, feeling as if she was going to lose it just having him inside her. She came down fully, laying across his chest, reaching forward to bring their faces close.

"Dean," she moaned, before pressing her mouth to his, raising her hips, and lowering them once more in one single, slow movement.