Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“It’s your turn to serve Lord Crowley.” Aziraphale looked up from his books. He’d been given leave of the demon’s library– a great, massive thing, that was filled to nearly bursting with books. He enjoyed getting to organize all of them and had hoped that it might leave him out of the master’s other attentions. Angels had been brutally conquered by the demons and left to serve them. He’d been sent to this demon lord who had yet to look his way.

Even his recent promotion to the library was delivered by the steward, elevating his status above even some of the other slaves.

“Crowley.” He said the demon’s name carefully. He was an elusive master. Cruel only when it was demanded of him. He expected to be obeyed but he didn’t seem to resort to the same tricks as the other demons to do it. Or so Aziraphale heard from the other angelic slaves when they talked as their masters supped together. The demons did not trust each other and the angels even less.

“Go. The steward is waiting for you.” The other angel gave him a look. Aziraphale sighed and gathered himself up from the books.

“Do not touch these.” Aziraphale ordered. “I am in charge of this library. I will put them away when I am able to return.” He hoped it would be a short visit to the lord’s chambers. Some stayed for days. Some didn’t return at all. He was hoping he would be one to return. Even if his pride was injured and he had to limp for some days after. These demons had quite voracious appetites of all natures. He had to hope this Crowley had some simpler tastes than some of the other ones he had heard of.

He headed towards the steward’s quarters, knocking the door.

“Ah, Aziraphale.” Furfur looked him over. “Strip over there by the fire. I’ll prepare you after you bathe.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale stripped out of his clothes and folded them neatly. He stepped into the bath and sat down, starting with his face and hair. He jumped when Furfur’s attendants joined in the washing before just letting them do as they pleased. He supposed he would have to get used to another’s touch sooner than later.

Oh, bother. He did not even have a proper Effort. He hadn’t really wanted one and he really didn’t want one now.

“I’ll have to make an Effort for you.”  Furfur looked him over, a vial of oil in his hand. “It’ll hurt more if you wait until tonight. Efforts need time to settle or else it will be too sensitive for you to enjoy any of the proceedings. And Lord Crowley does not appreciate caterwauling in his bed. So the less tears will be for the best for everyone.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Aziraphale murmured.

“He’s got a cock tonight. Maybe he’d like a nice cunt on you.” Furfur mused. “Something that can wetten itself and ease the way. I’ll oil it up anyway.” He pressed his hand between Aziraphael’s legs, the heat sudden and inescapable. Aziraphale gasped, grabbing onto Furfur to keep him from falling. “Hold him steady.” He ordered and hands pulled him back, keeping him upright.

Aziraphale whimpered as Furfur took his hand away. He glanced down at the blond curls curling around his new cunt. It tingled in an unpleasant manner. He pressed his legs together, willing it all away. It didn’t work.

He gasped as Furfur’s hand returned, an oiled finger breaching him as it entered his channel. “I’ve given you a rectum as well. In case he wants more of a challenge than a cunt.” 

Furfur pushed his finger in and out until he met less resistance. “There. Not too loose.”  He pulled his finger out, taking his other hand to stroke over the two lips of his cunt, rubbing it softly. Aziraphale’s mouth opened and he closed it quickly. He was breached in the front as he had been in the back, his body parting for Furfur’s experienced fingers. “That’ll do.” He wiped his hands on the cloth hanging from his belt. “Dress him and bring him to our lord.”

Aziraphale was clad in some rather revealing clothes before they placed a flimsy shroud over his body to act as some kind of robe. He was led from Furfur’s place into the main house– the house he had never wanted to go to.  Down twisting corridors with floors decorated with black, red, and gold scales. The walls, a rich, emerald green.

Aziraphale’s bare feet made little to no sound as he made his way down the corridor, flanked by Furfur’s assistants.

“What might I expect?” He bravely asked, his voice barely above a whisper. It seemed like a poor idea to be loud as he approached the lord’s chamber. He did not want to attract unnecessary attention to himself, even if that was what this evening was shaping up to be all about.

“It depends on his mood.” The woman answered. “He seemed in good spirits at dinner. Perhaps he will be reasonable tonight.”

“Thank you.” Aziraphale murmured. “Even if that is a lie, it brings me comfort.”

She scoffed slightly but did nothing to remove that comfort from him. She had intended to comfort him after all. It had been a while since a virgin angel had been brought to their lord. It had been a while since she had to soothe anyone or tell them how it might be.

Her companion opened the large doors that stretched up the whole height of the hall and she stepped inside with Aziraphale.

“Shax.” A hissing voice echoed around the large chamber made of large, black stones that sparkled. “What treat have you brought me this evening?” The walls stretched high up towards the heavens. Near the top, large windows had been carved out of stone, sheer curtains tossed and twisted in the breeze like two lovers. Like Aziraphale must expect himself to be treated soon enough.

“An untried angel, my lord.”

“I am the keeper of your books, my lord.” Aziraphale added on with a stammer. “It brings me joy to keep your library.”

“I have seen your work.” A large snake slithered into view, gazing down at him with golden eyes. “It is good work. I am pleased.”

“My lord.” He bowed. Shax, the female demon, leaned over and grabbed his robe, twisting it off of his body, presenting him to their demon overlord.

“Leave us, Sssshax.”

“As it pleases you, my lord.” She hurried back to her waiting companion who closed the tall doors behind them. Aziraphale was alone with one of the most powerful demons he had ever seen. And he was starting to realize why some of the other slaves never came back from seeing him. They had fed him. Nourished his large snake form.

What form would he take when he took Aziraphale? Would he be eaten or ravished?

“Be at peace, angel, my snake form is fed.” The snake slithered away through the columns. “You will serve me in my bed, not on my plate.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Aziraphale whispered. That was some small comfort he supposed. He did not want to be eating. “I was hoping to return to the books once you had your fill of me.” A throaty chuckle echoed in the gigantic chamber that left Aziraphale feeling small.

Or maybe that was his nearly being nude with a strange and powerful being who held all power over him.

Footsteps clicked towards him and he lowered his head, going down to his knees on the floor.

“A pretty picture.” The demon’s voice rang out. “Look up at me, angel.” Aziraphale obeyed, blinking up at him. The snake was gone and a vision stood before him now. Aziraphale blinked slowly, taking in the sight before him. Crowley– for being a demon– was gorgeous. Like a painting of old– like one of the many paintings that hung in the library. “Can you take your wings out for me?”

A flicker of fear ran down his spine.

“Why?”

“Do it, angel.”

“Are you going to take them?”

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” The demon flicked a finger at him, a claw sharp and deadly flashing in front of his face. “Now, darling. I’m not a patient demon.”

“Yes, master.” Aziraphale bowed forward, pulling his wings into this plane of existence. They weren’t pretty. Angels were mostly blocked of all their powers and their wings showed it the most. Crowley ran his fingers over the soiled white feathers and rusted iron chains. Aziraphale bit his lip, trying to keep quiet. His wings were not in good condition– one of them had been broken after the fight. He’d kept it hidden and it had healed wrong. And now he might lose it forever. He bowed lower as Crowley gripped the main bone of the damaged wing.

“This must hurt you.” He remarked, noticing how the angel flinched. “Tell me your name, book-keeper.”

“Aziraphale, master.”

“A-zira-phale.” Crowley sounded it out slowly. “Aziraphale.” He pinched the part that had healed wrong and Aziraphale gasped, his fingernails digging into the tiles. “Stand up.” Aziraphale stood up quickly. His wings flared out to keep him steady. Crowley circled him, eyeing the skimpy outfit Furfur had left him in. “The gold is good but the style is all wrong. You need something to highlight these– not hide them.” He slid his hand under the gold beading to pinch a fat, pink nipple.

He eyed Aziraphale’s reaction, the angel gasping and writhing at the tip of his slender fingers. Like he’d never been touched carnally before. A rare gem indeed after the war and the spoils that were taken afterwards. He figured most angels had gotten fucked on the battlefield, with knives to their throats and Efforts forced onto each of them. He still remembered the screams.

“Master–”

“You like that?” He blinked, coming back to himself. He flicked the swollen bud before turning away sharply. “We should go to my chamber now. I don’t think you want your first time on the floor. What did he give you?” Crowley’s claws slid through the straps holding his outfit up and it fell down to the floor. Aziraphale stepped out of it, glancing nervously over at his master. Crowley looked him over with an appraising eye and then nodded, holding out his hand. “Come with me.”

He pulled his own wings out, magnificent wings, shining and black. Aziraphale stared at them in awe and the demon smiled over at him, sharp and dangerous. He took the demon’s hand and Crowley launched up, dragging him behind until he yanked him up into his arms, strong in a way Aziraphale had forgotten they ever could be. He held him close and flew them around the chamber– up, up, up to where the demon’s bedchamber lay.

No escape for an angel who could no longer fly by his own power. The fall would kill him if he tried to escape from this height.

Crowley landed gracefully, depositing Aziraphale back on his own two feet right near the edge. Aziraphale hurried to take a step back and Crowley chuckled. “Afraid of heights, angel?”

“Yes.” Aziraphale saw no reason to lie. He’d been tossed from the heights once. Right after his opponent broke his wing. It might have saved his virtue but it had taught him a fear that no angel should have. Crowley snapped his fingers and the chains fell off of Aziraphale’s wings.

“I have no reason to leave you bound and defenseless at such a height. But we will have to tend to your wing, won’t we?”

“It’s fine, master, I am here for your pleasure.”

“And I won’t be pleased by such raggedy wings, angel.” Crowley gripped the twisted bones sharply and Aziraphale cried out, sinking to his knees. Fire flooded through his nerve endings, sending his whole body alight with agony and then it was all gone, blissful nothing. His wing fluttered weakly– fragile but whole once more.

“You healed me?”

“For my own pleasure, of course. You are mine to do with as I please, are you not?”

“Of course, master.” Aziraphale bowed his head. “You are most gracious.”

“M’not gracious!” The demon’s talons were tightening around his throat as he spat in Aziraphaele’s frightened face. “M’not nice! I’m a fucking demon!” He reached down and grabbed Aziraphale’s wrist, twisting it sharply. “Say it!”

Aziraphale sobbed softly.

“You’re not nice, my lord. You’re cruel and terrifying, master! The wickedest demon!”

“That’s more like it.” Crowley grunted, knocking him aside. He fell back against the ground, wings outstretched, naked and vulnerable. The demon’s yellow eyes gleamed, the color obliterating any whites in his eyes earlier, and Aziraphale was reminded that his master was a predator– a foul demon of Hell– his sworn enemy. What graciousness that had been shown to his wing had not been a show of mercy. No, it was a healing of a sacrifce that the demon intended to plunder himself. He might not plan on eating Aziraphale this evening, but he was going to devour him whole– the soul of him– and his body as well. “Don’t cry.” The demon rolled his eyes. He waved his hand and Aziraphale was flung from the floor onto a giant bed. It was akin to falling into a sea of black silk, unable to claw his way to the surface.

Aziraphale cast wild, teary eyes on his master who stalked towards him, black wings outstretched, teeth, white and sharp, and yellow eyes practically glowing. For the first time in a long time, Aziraphale felt terrified, unsure what was about to become of him now.

His master seemed done with wasting his words on him, flicking his fingers to arrange him how he wanted him on the bed. Aziraphale waited on his hands and knees, trying to bite back the fearful sobs that had seized him and would not let him go. He would be beaten for crying, he knew he would, but he couldn’t stop. He was scared. He was so scared of how this was going to go. Of what was going to happen to him. He was scared most of all that there wouldn’t be anything left.

A long finger slid inside of his unspoiled body and Aziraphale sobbed outright, unable to hide or soften the sounds that escaped from his throat.

“Husssh.” Crowley counseled him. “It will hurt less the less you fight it. You are mine to do as I please but I have already said I will not devour you.” The finger slid deeper inside him and Aziraphale tried to stop clenching, gathering fistfuls of silk instead. “Sssh.” The demon chuckled, low and velvety. “Precious virgin angel will hurt himself if he keeps fighting.”

“I’m trying to stop.” Aziraphale sniffled. “I don’t know how to stop.”

“Have you truly never been spoiled?” Crowley sniffed. “You smelled unspoiled.” He added. “But I was there on the battlefield that day. Every angel captured was put to shame and misery in the filth. The screaming was endless.”

“I-I fell. My wing was broken and my assailant threw me.” Aziraphale trembled as Crowley withdrew his finger, listening intently. “I ran and hid as soon as I was able to gather my strength to do so. He did not come after me.”

“You fell?”

“From a great height.”

“Ah, the angel thrown from the cliffsss.” He hissed. “Hastur boasted about casting you down. He assumed the waves swallowed you whole.”

“I was found by the lesser demons a few days later.” Aziraphale whispered. “They captured me and dragged me out of the caves below the cliffs. They tested my wits and my aptitudes but left my body alone. They brought me here. I’ve been here ever since.”

“Angels belong to the powerful demons, as spoils of war.” Crowley informed him. “Rewards for a tormented existence well-served.” He didn’t tell Aziraphale how the war ending had made everything better. Satan, God, those above them– were gone. They had taken each other out. So the remainder of the high-ranking demons had split the lesser demons and the angels surprisingly fairly and gone their own ways to set up their own cities. They split up the humans too but those weren’t as hardy. Crowley did fairly well raising them but other demons liked to try to steal them away after they killed off their own stores.

They left each other alone except to steal resources. Some things had to stay the same. “How long have you been here?”

“Years, master. “ Aziraphale didn’t dare move from his position. “But the library was entrusted to me recently. The past year or so…”

“I noticed the difference.”

“I haven’t seen you there.” Aziraphale whispered. “I thought you did not come.”

“You thought wrong.” Crowley replied. He knelt by Aziraphale and the angel jumped. “You startle easily. I did not wish to frighten my new keeper of books.” He snorted softly. He pulled Aziraphale down into the bed, into him, and Aziraphale winced as he fell into the demon’s embrace. The sensation of skin on skin was unfamiliar and unsettling as he was pulled flush to the demon’s chest. “Anyone ever told you that you have pretty eyes?” Crowley grinned up at him.

“No, my lord.” Aziraphale squirmed, feeling like a proverbial mouse trapped by a snake.

“You have pretty eyes. Like the sky.” The demon grunted.

“Thank you, master.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yes, master.”

“You’re surprisingly honest for an angel.” Crowley snorted. “Spread your legs for me. Let me see what a pretty cunt you have.” Aziraphale’s cheeks reddened even as his stomach twisted pleasantly at the demon’s words. He obeyed silently, lying on his back and opening his legs up and leaving himself defenseless before the demon.

Crowley’s eyes gleamed as he pushed himself up and studied Aziraphale’s new cunt. “Furfur gave you a pretty pink one. Matches your nips.” He reached over and dragged his nails over Aziraphale’s chest. “Such pretty skin too. It's so easy to mark up and make my own.” He ran his flat palm over the raised, pink marks, soothing them with a touch.

“I am yours.”

“Yes.” Crowley purred. “Yes, you are. Look at you, keeping yourself open even though you’re scared, offering yourself up to your demon master. What a good angel you are.” He cooed. “So obliging.”

Aziraphale’s chest was flushed as well as his cheeks as the lord demon pressed his hand against his stomach. “So soft.” He murmured. “S’good for me.”

“Yours.” Aziraphale sighed. He did not know what else to say. The demon lords liked to know they were the ones who had won but Aziraphale had never been bedded by one. He was honestly surprised that the demon had not fucked him three times over already. This Lord Crowley seemed to enjoy talking with him as much as he enjoyed stroking his skin.

The demon’s slender fingers slithered down his belly to the wiry blond curls between his legs. He stroked at the curls almost absent-mindedly, studying Aziraphale’s blushing reactions. The angel would curl up or crawl away if he gave him the choice. Yet Crowley had no desire to give him such a choice. He would have the angel today. He would make him all his. Truly his. An angel that never knew another’s touch, only bound to him and him alone.

He leaned over Aziraphale, taking his legs and pushing them apart even more. Aziraphale winced as the stretch bordered on painful– and then the demon was spreading the lips of his cunt open just as wide, studying it like it were a specimen in the wild.

“This might feel funny.” Lord Crowley pursed his lips and used his powers to enhance the pussy that Furfur had given Aziraphale. “He makes them too small sometimes. You need something capable and sturdy.” He slapped Aziraphale’s bared pussy and the angel jumped. “Hold your legs up for me. Hold them open. Ask me to take you, angel. Ask me to make you all mine.”

“T-take me.” Aziraphale’s voice cracked.

“Ask me to split you in two.” Crowley was a demon after all. He couldn’t resist playing with such a beautiful creature when he had him so fuckable on his bed. “To make you bleed. To make it so you cannot walk for weeks.”

“I– I don’t want to bleed. I don’t want it to hurt.” He whined softly and Crowley was intrigued by this creature that would still speak his own mind even vulnerable in his master’s bed.

“You would tell me how to take you.”

“I am yours.” Aziraphale trembled. “But I do not wish for the violence of the battlefield here in these peaceful times.”

“Neither do I.” Crowley hissed softly. “But I will have you how I want you.”

“Please. Mercy, my lord. Let me adjust. Teach me how to take it.” Aziraphale blinked up at him and Crowley grinned.

“Little minx.” Aziraphale gave him a tentative smile and Crowley chuckled. “Fine. We’ll try it your way. Just this once.” He warned, holding up a clawed finger.

“Whatever pleases you most, my lord.”

“M’starting to think you might.” Crowley chuckled again. “What a surprise you are, Aziraphale.” The way the demon said his name made the angel shiver. “Put your wings away.” He told him, putting his own wings away as he instructed the angel what to do next. “We’ll work our way up to that.”

“That?” Aziraphale squeaked.

“That.” Crowley smirked. “Wings are so very sensitive.” Aziraphale swallowed hard. He’d been afraid of that. He had known that Lord Crowley had healed his wings for a reason and there it was. It was all part of his seductive plan.

“Yes, master.” Aziraphale pulled his healed and unbound wings from view, grateful for the respite. He knew better than to say that out loud. “How would you have me?”

“Hush. No more talking from you.” Crowley pressed a finger to his lips. “I’m going to fuck you now. No more distractions.” Aziraphale gave him a look and the demon relented just this once, leaning in and kissing the angel on his soft lips. “It’s all right.” He murmured. “I won’t let you fall.”

This time, Aziraphale kissed him back, reaching for him instead of shying away.