comment_fic | Wednesday - Love in the Afternoon

Hello everyone!! I'm

johnboy91719 bringing you a brand new theme today.

In honor of Wednesday being sometimes referred to as Hump Day, let's have some love in the afternoon. That's right, folks. Let's see some fics about sex. Events leading up to it, the act itself, or whatever happens afterwards. It can be sweet and innocent or naughty and raunchy. Let your mind take you wherever it wants to go, even if it's found a nice home in the gutter like mine has.

Please remember the following:

* Post no more than three prompts per fandom and no more than five prompts in a row. If someone fills a prompt, you're more than welcome to post some more prompts later in the day.

* No spoilers in prompts for at least seven days after the original airdate or publication date. If you have spoilers in your fic, please warn in bold and leave at least three spaces.

* Show some love to the code monkeys and format your prompts correctly. Examples below (last one is for crossovers):

Star Trek XI, Kirk/Bones, quickie in the sickbay
One Life to Live, Oliver/Kyle, afterglow
Dollhouse/author's choice, Victor/author's choice, Victor is the dominant one in an engagement

If none of the prompts left today trip your trigger, feel free to take a peek at the Lonely Prompts. Now have fun and prompt away!!

"[tag=LoveInTheAfternoon]"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The church is crawling with witches and Sam blinks in the dim candlelight as his blindfold is finally removed. They laugh as though the Apocalypse is a game and strip him bare on the cold stone floor. He's weak, disoriented and seeing doubles. He doesn't know where to punch, where to kick and his struggles are easily suppressed.

Sam recognizes demon blood when it's offered, but as the witch paints his lips red and gory, the demon blood running through his own veins senses the difference. It tastes all wrong, wrong, wrong on his tongue even as he tries to push the witch away.

But black dots explode behind his vision and his frantic mind recedes beneath the rising high off the blood.

In retrospect, Gabriel describes his entrance with dramatic flair and makes it sound like he was breaking up an orgy of witches with Sam as the creamy nougat center.

When in actuality the door of the church splinters and his human heart stutters and skips a beat. Dean Winchester swears softly as he peaks over the Archangel's shoulder at his brother and Castiel brandishes his sword.

The chapel's decorated for a gothic wedding and Sam's walking down the aisle.

Gabriel can smell the dark magic in the air and he's moving towards Sam, shrugging off his jacket as his wings unfurl without making a conscious choice. He ignores the ache in his back as human skin gives way to preternatural wings and grabs Sam's hand, turning the hunter to face him. But Sam isn't behind those eyes, he's barely a glimmer beneath the magicked demon blood.

The spell is hollowing Sam out, growing his addiction until that's all there is left. Sam fights him, turning back to the crowing witch, teasing his hunger with a chalice filled to the brim. Shocked by the sudden appearer of an angel, but not deterred, the witches seem to believe in the friendly reader's digest version of winged saviors with harps and halos. Gabriel allows Castiel and his human to set them straight.

Sam Winchester is his only concern. They will not have him.

Gathering his grace around him like a shroud, like armor, Gabriel wraps one arm tight around Sam's waist, holding him steady at the hip. Hugging Sam's back to his chest, Gabriel reaches through the haze of the hunter's demonic need to grab Sam's very essence, pulling it back to the fore.

Human skin blisters and burns beneath his power as Gabriel tethers Sam's soul to his body, owning them both as thoroughly as he can. Sam's mouth opens to yell, but no sound comes. Instead Gabriel turns him about to capture his lips just as the rest of his muscles give in and he falls like a rag doll.

He's caught by the berth of Gabriel's wings as the Archangel's lips move over his own, asking Sam to accept his claim. Begging silently, his hand still moored to the burning imprint on Sam's hip. Finally catching on, Sam gives, he tastes of demon blood, ancient sin and bad magic and Gabriel takes it all, owns it as he wraps the hunter's exhausted, groggy form in his own discarded jacket.

"Mine." He whispers against Sam's closing eyes, the brand still pulsing beneath his touch.

That was perfect, and guh. I love the details about Gabriel's human back hurting as the wings come out, its something I never even thought of but it works so well.

In retrospect, Gabriel describes his entrance with dramatic flair and makes it sound like he was breaking up an orgy of witches with Sam as the creamy nougat center.

*laughs* Gabriel would describe it like that too, given his love for sweets.

egging silently, his hand still moored to the burning imprint on Sam's hip.

Hip marking! Oh my god, I love hip marking.

Thank you so much! This made my night.

Thank you, I'm really glad this worked for you. It was a great prompt, I'm a sucker for any semi-/permanent marks of ownership (sexy, incidental hip placement doesn't hurt) and it's always fun to write Gabriel.

This was just perfect, I love what you did there!

Thanks so much, I'm really glad you liked it.

SQUEE! I am a happy woman.

Awesome!

Guh,

Love Gabriel describing events with candy images :)

Hehe. Thanks for the compliment and also reminding me to repost this :D.

Wednesday - Love in the Afternoon

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