THE (compulsory) SEX DICE GAME
For whatever reason, perhaps to spice up your love life, perhaps to spice up your day, or perhaps because you've been kidnapped or need to play it to save the world (we don't judge), you have before you a few sets of special dice, and an obligation to play the game out to some sort of finish.
Strap in and remember it's
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[Most magic might not work, but, that was because God had checked out and Hell was less inclined to offer up it's power these days. Death however, still walked the streets.
She scrutinized the dice in her hand at Cas' declaration that they were special. Sex wasn't something she really considered. She wasn't even making the connection just yet. Before the bloody end of the world she'd been something of a recluse -- attempted, at least, even if there was always one problem or another dragging her away from her books. Her mind wasn't exactly geared toward thinking of the connotations of the chosen action verbs in that way.
She rolled them, letting them clatter on the table with an idle flicker of long dark lashes over her eyes. She looked up from the dice and looked at Cas, as if expecting some sort of explanation of exactly how these dice were special. A few years before she would have stood nicely and waited to see if he could find the ( ... )
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[She says this as if that should be all the answer that he needs, and it takes her a moment to realize that it isn't. She shrugs a little bit, head tilting back as her mismatched eyes look into his blues.]
I can tell things about people, in breath and blood. Not the specifics, but... enough.
[Her fingers stroke absently against his hips, idly slipping slender fingers through his belt loops, leaning in a little bit closer to press in against him. She liked the closeness, the proximity, the feel of touching.]
Getting more in depth answers is rather unpleasant. I thought it might ruin the mood.
[Given exactly how excruciating having someone shove their fingers inside of you and grasp around where your soul is supposed to be actually is, it's almost ironic with the deadpan way she says it.]
I'm usually good at these things.
[She reaches up with one hand, a curious, sharp smile curving her lips as she drags fingers against the line of his jaw. He was so human; indulgent, but in what things she'd heard, ( ... )
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Her fingers move up to slide against his jaw and his eyelashes flutter, lips twitching at the impossibility of his situation.]
Hm.
[It is a little strange, isn't it?
The way he sees it he has two options: to tell her her soul-dar is broken, or to tell her the truth. He can see pros and cons for both, and he takes a bit to push them around in his head, weighing which of the two will work out better for him in the end.
He decides on just coming out with it. She already knows something's up, and he guesses it's interesting enough that she'll dig around until she figures it out... Which could alert other people to his... condition that he might want knowing about it even less ( ... )
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[The apology is almost out of place, awkward, but it's the first thing that slips off her tongue. Her voice is soft, and for a few moments her eyes shift, darken with deep-seated guilt as she tilts her head to the side. She takes a breath, trying to shy away from memories of when the Apocalypse was young and slowly looks up at him. Her gaze slides over his face, mis-matched hues flickering to his blue eyes as if seeing him in a new light, her eyes sharp; curious, but not judgmental ( ... )
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[He can never bring himself to fully and completely regret his choice to stay. No matter how miserable things get, he knows he'd played his part in setting this whole thing in motion, and he knows he couldn't have left Dean hear to pick up the pieces alone. Not that he's doing the best job at being any help at all, but... He couldn't have gone back to heaven after everything that happened.
He's surprised, as he usually is, when Arianna continues sliding her hands over his skin, settles them at his waist. She doesn't seem deterred in the slightest, and that's... Good. He can work with that.
Now, Cas is of the opinion that everything calls for more absinthe, but this right here? Tops the list of things that call for more absinthe.]
Absolutely.
[He moves to reach for the bottle and the little bag of sugar cubes, fixing them both another round, endlessly grateful that it's available. He can never quite manage this conversation without there being liquor involved.]
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If Cas reminded her of any of the angels that she'd met, it was the one that she'd cared about. The one that-- And no, that was quite enough of that train of thought, thank you. She wasn't near drunk enough for those sort of thoughts ( ... )
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Yep. Go right ahead.
[He collects the dice and drops them in her hand.
That had gone a lot better than he'd expected... Which isn't exactly difficult considering what he'd expected wasn't pretty at all. Still, it's good to know that there's one more person here who knows who he was... He'd never say it out loud, but it's a comfort to know that if he were to just drop dead, who he used to be wouldn't just die with him. It's stupid, especially given the way he tries to run from it constantly, but he doesn't actually want to forget, and he's afraid that will happen if he keeps it to himself long enough, that the spark that keeps him alive will finally be extinguished if it ever reaches that point.
Really stupid. He takes a drink and pushes it out of his mind. Dice game. Concentrate on that instead.]
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When Cas had kissed her, at first she'd just been thinking about how it felt. And she wants that again, even as the second glass of absinthe is quickly dying the world green; the shine of light seeming to sparkle emerald. She rolls the dice in her hand and lets them clatter noisily on the table: nibble neck. She smiles a little shyly as she sets down her empty glass, the alcohol starting to hit her, flushing her pale cheeks; Arianna's always been a lightweight.]
Nibble neck.
[She smiles a little and slips in close so that her body is pressed against his, that same look on her face as if she's not quite sure that she's doing this ( ... )
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He watches her role the dice, and is more than satisfied with the results. The dice. It's like they know him. He can't help noticing the flush spreading across her pale cheeks... But he's distracted from that when she shifts closer, presses her body to his and there are suddenly more important things deserving his attention. She noses against his neck, and he tips his head to the side to make it easier for her- at least, he's telling himself it's not all about getting as much ground covered as possible. What? He's a fan of any and all rolls involving neck. Sue him ( ... )
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Nibble below waistIf there was a moment where she was going to back out, this would probably be it. Her body does tense, her fingers tightening and stilling against Cas' back, but it's only for a moment, more out of surprise. She hadn't looked at the dice too closely first time around; she hadn't realized exactly what sort of combinations they could end up with ( ... )
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If you want it to be, yeah.
[He returns her smile, thumbs stroking at her sides. Now, make no mistake, Cas would very much like to keep this moving... But he's not about to push, that's not how he operates. He's like a venus fly trap, he waits for people to come to him willingly.
Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, he's not that predatory. Point being, whatever goes on here won't extend past Arianna's comfort zone, wherever that may be.]
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That is... how it works, isn't it?
[For a moment there, she misreads his accepting nature for a lack of understanding as to the mechanics of sexual interactions. It eventually sinks in, something in the way that his hands stroke along her sides, the way he smiles at her, that look in his eyes. She pauses, bites her bottom lip very briefly, looking a bit chagrined.]
Oh-- right. I do want to.
[She reaches down to the buttons of the skirt at the small of her back, letting them come undone, thick fabric sliding to her feet in a rustle of black fabric. Which leaves her in decidedly unimaginative black cotton panties, black stockings, a garter belt, sleek black boots that go to mid-shin, and her corset.
For all Arianna's obliviousness, she dresses like someone's fetish dream, though it's actually more anachronistic than sexual; she's older than she looks.]
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Someone's fetish dream, indeed... Though the effect is somewhat lost on Cas, considering his exposure to what other people may fantasize about is a bit limited. Not that he doesn't appreciate it- he always appreciates a lovely woman in his cabin. He leans forward, presses a light kiss to her lips before pulling back to determine where the best place for this might be.
...He's thinking bed. Is that presumptuous of him?
Whatever, cross that bridge when they come to it. He nudges her backward until the backs of her knees bump against the egde of the bed.]
You'll probably be more comfortable here. Lay back.
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She leans in, kisses him as their lips meet softly. She lets Cas nudge her body back until her knees hit the bed. Maybe not presumptuous, but it is that quiet hint of exactly where this is heading. She doesn't mind, she doesn't think. Pleasure, something that feels good is definitely a hopeful thing.
She nods, letting her body sink down onto the bed, leaning back on her elbows so she can look up at him. Yeah, okay, so her heart's racing, but she's not really well-acquainted with sex. This is all good so far; nice, pleasant, a soft exhale of breath, smiling up at Cas just a little uncertainly.]
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