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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.

Chapter Text

“Rise and shine, angel.” Someone was shaking Aziraphale awake and it wasn’t the demon who had utterly ravished him the evening and most of the early morning before. Aziraphale blinked, raising his head to look at the demon who had escorted him to the demon lord the night before. He thought her name was Shax. “Oh, well, don’t you look properly fucked.” She chuckled although her tone was kinder than her words. Or perhaps Aziraphale was just imagining it. “Up you get.”

Aziraphale tried to get up, he really did, but he collapsed headfirst in the black silk that twisted around his body. To his exhausted mind, it felt as if the bed had claimed him also, and it did not want to let him go. “I’ve got you.” Her voice sounded almost soothing as she picked him up with her supernatural strength.

Aziraphale had been strong once. His eyelids fluttered shut and he leaned into her arm as she carried him from the bed and to the edge of the precipice. She jumped, floating down with ease, bringing the wrecked angel to the hot baths that awaited him. Then he could sleep in his own chambers.

“Crowley?” He murmured softly.

“Did you want the great lord waiting on you to rise?” The angel shivered, weakly shaking his head. No, he did not want that. He knew how things would have gone if Crowley had been there when he woke up. Their evening and early morning would have continued through the day and then possibly the night. And whatever angelic stamina Aziraphale had once had was already long gone.

“No.”

“Then why do you ask for him?”

“Did I please him?” Shax chuckled, nodding at the demons who opened the large doors for her.

“You are alive, angel. You pleased him.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, I bet he couldn’t get his fill of you.” She chuckled again. “So eager to please.” Aziraphale made a weak sound and then he was gone, sleeping in the arms of a demon.

“How isss he?”

“He’s fine.” Shax snorted. “Following us?”

“I want to keep him around for sssome time. Make him the first on the rotation of bed ssslavesss.”

“I figured. I’ll get him cleaned up and safe in his own bed.” She glanced up at her lord. He was in his snake form, staring down at them with yellow eyes. “He did well then?”

“He did hisss duty to hisss lord.” Crowley slithered off quickly before she could think of any other questions. Something that made a thousand more questions percolate inside her sharp mind. What was a demon good for if not asking questions that no one wants to hear asked? She glanced down at Aziraphale and then back where Crowley had just been.

What an interesting development. She had not had such high hopes for the slave when he went before him. And now look at them. Crowley had marked him as his ten times over. There wasn’t a spot on his white skin that wasn’t riddled with some kind of claim, whether it was by the demon’s mouth, claws, or teeth. Crowley had been well-pleased indeed.

“We’ll need extra help in the library this week.” She told Furfur as she carried Aziraphale into the steward’s house. “Is the bath ready?”

“Of course.” Furfur waved one of his helpers forward. “She’ll take him from here.” Shax handed the angel over and glanced back at the steward at his desk. He was not taking this as seriously as she was which meant Crowley had told him nothing of his desires. Sometimes she really hated being the lord’s assistant.

“I will oversee the bathing.” Shax told him. “He’s been moved to first in the rotation.”

“Fuck.” Furfur snorted. “He’s going to burn his little keeper of the books out in a month.”

“That’s his right.”

“It is but then we’ll be hard pressed to find a replacement.”

“No, you’ll be hard-pressed.” Shax corrected him. “This is your area of expertise. Not mine.”

“Of course, milady.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” She followed his helper towards the large baths. “My name is fuckin’ Shax.”

“Of course, milady!” He called out after her, chuckling when she scowled over her shoulder. She was about the only one he’d play such games with, just for another moment of her attention, before she left. It would be days before he saw her again and he wanted to make the most of every opportunity. A demon didn’t have much to hope for anymore, not with the war done and all. Furfur didn’t have a hope that Shax would look his way in anything other than annoyance, but still, he’d take what he could. It was enough to keep on living and scraping under higher up demons.

Lord Crowley wasn’t bad. Well, not as bad as some of the others Furfur worked under. He was… almost fair. He wouldn’t care if Furfur tried to court Shax. He’d probably encourage it as long as it meant they both stayed and worked for him instead of one of the other lords. Duke Hastur’s estate wasn’t far. And Furfur had worked for both of them to know that they didn’t like living in proximity to each other. That was bound to come to a head at one point. And he knew which one he’d rather fight for when it came down to it.

Demons weren’t good for much other than fighting and squabbling.

Even if Lord Crowley had bigger dreams than he let on for their world. He wasn’t quite right in the head for a demon but that was what made him fairer. Furfur remembered fighting next to him. Remembered how he didn’t rape any angels either. He killed when it was down to him or them but he didn’t draw it out. They were clean kills too.

How he had survived hell as long as he had, no one knew. But he was a clever one and he knew how to act the part to survive. Hell, they all did.

Aziraphale woke up in his own bed with a few additional comforts he had not had before. So there were some perks to being his master’s whore. How good to know.

“Sir.” An angel bowed at him from the doorway and Aziraphale had no response but to blink in confusion. “I’ve been assigned to you as your assistant. My name is Muriel.”

Aziraphale remembered Muriel. A low-ranking angel but earnest in their pursuits. Hopefully, due to their lack of position, they had gone unnoticed by the demons. Frankly, he couldn’t imagine them fighting, let alone holding a sword.

“A pleasure, Muriel.” He turned stiffly. Ah, so no getting out of bed without help. He had known he’d be changed when he went into the demon’s bedchamber but he had not known it would be this great of a difference. “How are you liking the library?”

“It’s much nicer than the fields, sir.”

“Call me Aziraphale, dear. We’re both captives here.”

“Oh, no, you’re high ranking. I’m lower than the dirt.” Aziraphale frowned.

“Well not now you’re not. Now you’re my assistant. And that means I require you to keep your head held high and your shoulders pulled back.” He bit back his chuckle as his new assistant took his request very literally. “I’ll need your help to rise. I am… a bit sore.”

“Shax told me. I am happy to assist you, especially since you’ve provided such a great service to our master.”

“Ah, yes, if that’s what that’s called.” Aziraphale would have termed it ‘laying there and taking it for all he was worth,’ but Muriel thankfully still seemed sheltered. He would not have them learning all about what his duties had entailed last night. The great keeper of books was now nothing more than a common whore for a mighty demon lord.

Muriel helped him get out of bed and he limped over to where he now had a large, comfortable chair. There was hot tea and a decent meal waiting for him and Aziraphale realized he must have done something right the night before if he was now getting this special treatment. Muriel helped him sit in the chair and then covered him with a soft, comfortable blanket.

“What would you like to work on today?” They didn’t disturb him as he sipped on his tea, holding it close as if to soak up all the warmth. “Some new books have arrived and the orders on the crate says that they can only be looked over by the head keeper of the books.” Something twisted in Aziraphale’s chest and he rubbed it thoughtfully. It almost felt like a bribe, or worse, an apology.

“Bring them here.” He waved them on and Muriel hurried away. Aziraphale took the moment to bow his head and to take in a deep breath. He couldn’t look weak in front of the other slaves or else they’d come for his job, his position, the scrap of a life he’d carved out for himself. All because a demon had bedded him.

Hot tears pricked his eyes and he wished he could banish them away with a thought like he used to. His powers long gone left him feeling more human than he cared to admit. At least no one was around to see him like this.

Meanwhile, Crowley watched his newest pet fight back tears with an odd feeling in his own chest. He’d shown that bloody angel nothing but pleasure the night before. He’d made him his in ways he’d never touched another angel, human, or demon. And this creature had the audacity to sulk?!

He hissed softly to himself, slithering out of the library as quietly and secretly as he had come. He’d send more books. More comfortable things. What in hell did angels even like? It certainly wasn’t demons… no matter how powerful they were. Jesus. How the fuck was he supposed to cheer one up?! Especially when he was the one who fucked them up in the first place.

Crowley had thought he was having fun. Crowley had been. Crowley had enjoyed himself immensely. The angel had been new. Fascinating. Soft. Inexperienced.

The thunder rumbled far off in the distance, an inkling of the storm clouds of Crowley’s mood about to sweep in and cover his realm in darkness. If he was unhappy, then no one would experience the sunshine. He shifted, pulling his wings out, and flying quickly to his tower where no one would dare disturb him until the rains and the storms stopped.

Just how he wanted it.

It had been two weeks and the realm was in danger of washing away. They’d already lost a few fields in the low-lying places.

“Why the fuck is he sulking?” Furfur had managed to corner Shax finally. “We need to do something! We’re going to lose the harvest and the angels and humans who rely on it!”

“What do you want me to do? He’s locked himself up in his tower. You know how he is when he’s in one of his moods.” She sniffed. “I’m not risking a lightning bolt to the face.”

“What if you used a shield?” Furfur glanced over at her as inspiration struck.

“Perfect. You go first.” She deadpanned.

“Haha.” He glared. “Not me. The angel. The keeper of the books. Perhaps he’s become the keeper of something else.”

“After one tryst?!” Shax scoffed. “Hardly.”

“It’s worth a shot.” Furfur gave her a pointed look. “The angel has been well-looked after ever since then. I had to buy like twenty cases of expensive, rare books to bring to the library. When has the master even read a book last? It cheered up the angel though, got him to stop looking so mopey and pale.” Shax and Furfur exchanged a look.

“He cannot be that stupid.” She said quietly, shaking her head.

“No one has told him no in hundreds of years. You’d be surprised.”

“Fine. We send in the angel. But slutify him first, just in case. He’s going to need to use all his distractions once he’s in. Crowley does not like being disturbed.”

Aziraphale did not like being disturbed either but he knew better than to show it. He came when called. He let them fuss over him. Let them bathe him and oil him. Let them dress him in an even more scandalous outfit than last time.

“Did he send for me?”

“He’s sent for no one.” Shax was truthful where Furfur was trying to keep from telling him outright. 

“He’s in one of his moods.” Furfur gave in when Shax elbowed him in the side. First time she'd touched him in a century. Ha. He'd take it.

“So he could kill me?” Aziraphale realized. “Is he the one causing the weather?”

“Yes.” Shax was affirmative to both statements.

“But hopefully he won’t kill you.” Furfur added. “You’re the shiny new toy.”

“Look, we need him to stop the storms. Or it’s gonna be a bad year for all of us. If we walk in directly, it’ll be our heads. But if you go in first, well, maybe we will all stand a chance again.” Shax smiled encouragingly although it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Fine.” Aziraphale folded his hands to hide how they trembled. He’d hoped for more time. But it seemed he wasn’t the only one affected by their time together. He’d do it for the other angels and only the other angels.

“Great!” Shax clapped her hands together. “Hurry along.” Furfur grabbed his hand and the two lesser demons dragged him down the beautiful hallway to the large doors. The doors were hauled open and he was shoved inside, landing on his hands and knees with a pained grunt while Shax and Furfur slammed the doors behind him.

Fuck. Aziraphale rose, blowing on his reddening palm. He must have cut it on some bone.

“I sssmell blood.” There was an ominous hiss and Aziraphale couldn’t stop the tears of terror although he tried. “And tearsss.” The sound of snakeskin on stone echoed among the chamber and Aziraphale turned in a panic, beating his hand on the door. “Angel.” The snake shifted behind him and he slowly turned with teary eyes to look over his shoulder. “You came back.”

The demon was there, as glorious as he remembered, and Aziraphale answered with a quiet sob, turning towards him. “What’d they do to you, hm?”

“Cut my hand on a bit of bone when I fell.” Crowley licked his palm, the blood and the cut vanishing, leaving behind tingling heat as he healed him with ease. Black wings flung out and Aziraphale was pulled close before they launched into the sky.

“I’ll only ask you one more time.” Crowley hissed. “What did they do to you?!”

Chapter Text

Aziraphale pulled himself up to his full height once they had landed and Crowley had placed him down on the floor.

“Who did thisss to you?” Crowley demanded again, cornering him. Aziraphale bit his lip before setting his jaw, a hard glint in his eyes that had long been missing. For the first time in a long time, he felt strong. Not to his usual angelic strength, of course, but strong enough to confront this demon who had turned his whole world upside down. He jabbed a finger in the demon lord’s face and accused him.

“You did.”

“I– I beg your pardon?” The demon took a couple steps back, instantly confused. At least, confused enough to lapse into what sounded like decent manners for once. Emboldened, Aziraphale took a step forward.

“It was you! You’ve been doing God knows what–” Crowley hissed at the mention of their dead Mother but Aziraphale didn’t stop. “You’ve been doing whatever you want up here, moping, I don’t know, you’re flooding the kingdom and we’re all going to starve except for you, so they grabbed me and sent me up here to distract you into stopping the rain!” Crowley blinked, looking outside. It was indeed still raining. Storming. Half a typhoon at this point.

Fuck.

He snapped his fingers and the rain stopped although the gloom persisted. The sun made his eyes hurt. And he was not in the mood for the sun to hurt his eyes right now. “And now they think you fucking me is a good distraction and while you’re very talented in bed, I don’t want to be fucked! I know you’ve been sending me those rare books and I rather liked working with them, thank you very much!”

Crowley had the sense to know he wasn’t really being thanked. That the angel he’d been obsessing over just a bit was quite angry with him. Part of him felt angry in return. He should slap the angel and then have him flogged. And then he’d show him what a bad time Crowley could really be. But the other part of him, some fucked over remnant from their Mother’s betrayal, wanted the angel’s approval. Craved it.

He’d thought he won it with his cock and his tongue but no, apparently, the angel was not wooed by such feats. He’d have to do something else then. Something drastic. But what?!

Crowley flung the tower doors wide open and dragged the angel by his wrist towards them. He could smell the angel’s fear. He probably thought Crowley was going to toss him down and Crowley probably should. He wasn’t going to but he probably should. He launched off of the precipice, dangling Aziraphale behind him.

He had wanted to fuck the angel. But he’d return him to his precious books instead. He’d fix this somehow. He didn’t know how. He’d find something. More books. Maybe a little wooing instead of tears and fear.

Aziraphale dangled from the demon’s grasp. His wrist and shoulder ached. He was trying very hard to not lose his shit but the heights beckoned him to fall and Crowley was flying very fast. He saw the library out of the corner of his eyes and he hoped that was where they were headed. Even if his books had to take some of the damage– he did not want to fall. Crowley knew he did not want to fall. Maybe he’d drop him through the skylight and let him die among his books.

Crowley dove down and he cried out in fright as he was let loose. He was only in the air for a second before strong arms wrapped around him and they dove together. Crowley landed in a cozy nook that Aziraphale had never seen before. And here he had thought he had all the access in the library.

“What is this?” He asked, looking around the space. It was furnished for a king– high enough that it did not attract his attention. There were no books. There was a fireplace. It was warm and cozy here. “Is this where you’re going to fuck me?”

“You’re mine.” The demon hissed, his eyes flashing. “But no. I will not be fucking you today.”

“Why not?”

“Because you said no.” Aziraphale did not know how to process that bit of information so he kept himself from responding. He would have said no the first time if he had known it would have gotten him somewhere. But he had a feeling Crowley wouldn’t have been so moved in that instance. He would have fucked him regardless.

“I thought you were going to drop me.” Aziraphale shivered, wrapping his arms around himself. It was almost an accusation but Crowley didn’t take the bait. Instead, Crowley grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around him. He used a bit of magic to change the angel’s clothes into his usual attire as well. “Thank you.” Aziraphale murmured.

“I should have.” Crowley sighed and Aziraphale shot him a little glare. His bravado was failing though and he did not want to fight the demon any longer. He wanted to run back to his rooms and barricade the door.

“What is this place? I thought I knew all the library’s secrets.” He asked instead of saying all that.

“This is my personal reading area. It is to be undisturbed by the angel slaves.” Crowley shrugged. “Can anyone know all of a library’s secrets, angel?” He snorted. Something flickered across Aziraphale’s handsome face and Crowley delighted in the miniscule reaction. He’d struck something.

“Suppose not.” The angel relented a fraction.

“I come here to listen to you when you read.”

“I thought you didn’t.” Aziraphale eyed him nervously. It was written into his schedule to read to the demon every night. But the demon never showed up so he only read aloud some nights. Oh, shit, he’d fucked up.

“My keeper of books startlesss easily.” Crowley smirked. “I keep out of sight because I don’t want to scare you.”

“Humph.” Crowley laughed and Aziraphale glanced over at him. “You’re playing games with me.”

“Not really.” Crowley grinned. “Only sssometimesss.” He laughed and then he was gone, launching himself up into the air. He twisted out the opening in a bundle of black feathers and Aziraphale was left alone to wonder what the hell had happened.

And how the hell he was going to get down.

The next several nights Aziraphale read faithfully, even though his voice trembled at times. And each of those nights, Crowley lay up in his loft and listened to the angel’s voice. He listened to his voice– the dips and cracks and trembles that spoke of an unnamed fear now that he knew Crowley might be lurking here.

His voice hadn’t sounded like that before.

It was another two weeks before the demon showed himself, flying down in front of the couch where the angel was perched. Aziraphale carefully closed the book and eyed him like a deer cornered by a pack of wolves.

“My lord.” He bowed his head, tucking his fingers into each other so that the demon might not see how they trembled.

“Why sssso ssscared?” Crowley smirked. “Your voice hassss been shaky since our lassst meeting.”

“I messed up. I broke the schedule. You will punish me.”

“I do not need to punish you.” Crowley sauntered closer, flopping on the couch next to the angel. It left them painfully close and everything in the demon screamed at him to pin this lovely angel down and have his wicked way with him. He needed to consume him. He needed to feel his body flush with warmth and need. “You still have your cunt?” Aziraphale shoved his thighs together before he could stop it, the demon noting that immediate reaction. “You angelsss.” Crowley chuckled. “So modest.” His expression grew serious. “I need you, angel.”

“I don’t want to be fucked.” Aziraphale said tiredly, hunching in on himself.

“Sss’not up to you.”

“Then I will fear you and hate you for the rest of my life and we both know that’s not really what you want.” Aziraphale snapped. Crowley snarled, digging his fingers into Aziraphale’s curls and pulling them tight. Aziraphale let out a wounded sound, shooting a wild look around the room. As if he could get away. “Not here.” He begged. “Not among the books. Please. If you must take me, do not take me here. Do not take the library from me.”

Crowley snarled again and released him, transforming into his snake and slithering out of the library. He grabbed the first slave he saw, who cried out in pain and fear, and vanished into his tower. Leaving Aziraphale to stare in fear and shock.

Crowley had listened to his wishes again but someone else had paid for it. He had to stop it. To save them somehow. He was the one who Crowley wanted and only he would be the one to survive Crowley in his current mood right now.

His mind made up, Aziraphale hurried to the house of the steward, and begged to be let into their lord’s tower. Furfur was a little too frightened by what he had seen as the demon had stormed past him to refuse. Shax flew him to the tower and just in time too– as the unlucky bastard who had taken his place had a chunk taken out of him by the snake’s jaws

“My lord–”

“Crowley, drop him!” Centuries of buried authority rang out and the snake opened his mouth on instinct, dropping the poor slave to the ground. Aziraphale stepped over to him and helped him up, checking his injuries carefully. Missing an arm and part of his shoulder was no joke. And it was a mistake that would be rectified. “Heal him.”

“Ssss’not your place, angel.” Crowley finally found his tongue, unable to keep his yellow eyes off of the angel he so desired.

“Heal him and you can take me instead.” Aziraphale bartered instead, using the only thing this demon seemed to want. “I won’t fight you.”

“Ah!” The other slave screamed as his lost parts came materializing back– as if they’d never been taken from him.

“Take care of him?” Aziraphale asked Shax. “He’s in shock. He’ll need support. Maybe a hot bath.” Shax looked at him, scoffing in disdain.

“Who are you to give commands?” She asked sharply, sneering over at him. “I serve our lord, not you.”

“Do as he saysss.” Crowley hissed and she blinked, a rare show of surprise. “He isss not to be disssobeyed.”

“He’s a slave! Have you lost your–” She was cut off by a strong hand wrapped around her throat. Crowley towered over her in his demon form, glaring down at her.

“Are you gonna listen or not, Shax? I have other assistants who would be less… mouthy.” She tried to scream as her jaws were sewn shut by a tiny snake that wove them together in under two seconds. “I’ll remove it once I see some cooperation. Got it?” He slid his hand down the side of her face. She nodded, one tear streaking down her cheek. She took the slave with her and brought him to Furfur.

Furfur knew how to treat traumatized slaves the best out of all the demons. And he never needed any threatening to do so. And then she ran to hide away until her master was more pleased with her.

Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley were staring each other down in the tower. The demon held out his hand and Aziraphale reached over and took it. And then black wings launched them up, spiraling into the air until they both landed on Crowley’s bed.

“You will keep your word?” Crowley asked carefully. “I do not want to hurt you, Aziraphale. I just– want you. Need you.”

“Why?” Aziraphale grimaced. “You have all the angel slaves you could dream of. There is nothing special about me.”

“But there isss.” Crowley’s eyes flashed yellow and the image of scales rippled over his skin before vanishing. Aziraphale’s eyes widened at a rare show of the demon almost losing his grip on his own powers. “I felt it when we coupled the first time. Your powers… they’re not gone. They’re just… buried.”

“What?” Aziraphale scoffed. “That’s impossible. All the angels are stripped of their strength and their powers. We were destroyed and subjugated. Worse than fallen in the eyes of God. If She still had them.” He added. Crowley blanched slightly.

“I think I can help you recover them.” He offered. Aziraphale narrowed his gaze, frowning over at the demon.

“And what’s in it for you?”

“A powerful angel at my side and a faithful lover in my bed. It doesn’t seem like a high price to pay.”

“We are enemies.” Aziraphale reminded him. “I will never willingly bind myself to you like that.”

“Pity.” Crowley smirked. “Perhaps the powers can be discussed another time. I believe a price is owed today.”

“Humph.” Aziraphale shrugged his robe off and flopped back on the bed. “Do as you’d like.”

“I’d like you to be a willing participant.” Crowley said quietly. “M’not the monster everyone wants me to be, you know. I’ve done… good.” He said the word with distaste and shame. “M’not the most disgusting of the demon lords.”

“Oh, doesn’t that hurt your pride to admit out loud?” Aziraphale couldn't help the little taunt that escaped him.

“Yesss, it does, angel.” Crowley turned away. He left Aziraphale alone on the bed, naked and cold.

“Oh, stop sulking and take your prize.”

“Maybe later.” The demon bared his teeth at him. “I have something I have to take care of first.” His eyes flashed. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Aziraphale grumbled as Crowley vanished from view, flying down from the precipice. “Show off.”

Chapter Text

Even locked away, Aziraphale’s power called to Crowley, the demon lord nearly aching at the purity and holiness of it. It radiated everything the demons had tried to forget after their fall– some even going mad and dying in their pursuit to be reconnected with the divine. The war against Heaven, the angels, and God was supposed to remove all of that. And now Crowley had perhaps the last source of divine power left in this damned existence.

It was an angelic power now, yes, but it was Her all the same. Crowley remembered what it was like to have that power pulsing inside of him even as it burned its way out of him as he was cast down. He hadn’t meant to fall. But he had. And now– now his Mother was taunting him from beyond the grave. Crowley ached for Her love now as much as he had back then.

It didn’t help that the divine power was wrapped up in plush flesh that perhaps could be tempted into being obliging once again. Perhaps Crowley could… court the angel in hopes of getting him back underneath him. So he could reconnect with the Divine one last time.

That could be the only explanation as to why he was pillaging the kitchens, filling a basket with wine, strawberries, and melted chocolate. Gifts to woo the angel back underneath him. Gifts to show that he wasn’t as monstrous as the angel might want him to be. Crowley was a demon with simple desires and needs. And he craved the angel with everything that was left to him after the Fall and the subsequent war– he craved him with every inch of him.

Crowley flew up to the tower, landing quietly.

“I’m back.” He said with a bit of snarl. The angel looked him over from where he lounged on Crowley’s bed like it was his bed. Like he belonged there. God– Crowley wanted to sink his teeth into him, taste his blood mingled with that sting of lightning, and then fuck him. He’d take him in any position, work them up through all the positions.

“I can see that.” Aziraphale looked away, disinterested, and Crowley’s eye twitched, a patch of scales rippling over the side of his neck, and then vanishing. Aziraphale lifted his head and studied him. Under those blue eyes, Crowley felt naked. Wanted to be naked but– but this level of vulnerability was dangerous. He hadn’t been this vulnerable since… since–

Since God.

“I brought you something.” Crowley held up the bottle of wine. “No glasses but we can take turns with the bottle.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Perhapsss I can tempt you–”

“Stop dragging this out. Just fuck me.” Aziraphale gave him a hard look.

“I can’t.” Crowley spat, another flicker of scales running down his body as he shuddered.

“You can’t? You didn’t have any problem before.”

“You let me fuck you lassst time. I ha– I have to earn it.”

“Earn what?”

“You.”

“Why?”

“You’re ssspecial. Not just some ssslave to fuck. You have power.”

“So I’m a hole or I’m a weapon. Great.”

“Not an object.” Crowley shivered. “A–” He couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. Aziraphale could be a potential… partner. He could be a refuge from the loneliness Crowley had clothed himself with all these years. He could be Crowley’s companion… his equal. His– his god. His purpose. Crowley had been bored for a long time. Bored of being a powerful demon lord that everyone was afraid of. Bored of the squabbles with the other lords. This angel– Aziraphale– was something new. Something interesting. Something more.

“A what?”

“You’re something new!” Crowley blurted. “Sssomething important. Someone important.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m trying to piece it together.”

The angel sat up and tilted his head to the side, still studying him. He leaned forward.

“I can see this is difficult. Needing someone for once.” Aziraphale sighed. “You don’t know what it is like. To be so dependent on another person for everything. Your whims rule us all and I’m supposed to pretend we’re on equal footing.”

“If I help you release your powers–”

“Then every other demon lord will want me too! I’ll be a threat to you all. Are you prepared for that? Are you prepared for another war?”

“You’re mine.” Crowley hissed. “They won’t touch you!”

“Are you prepared to stop them?” Aziraphale asked again. “I’m used to being at the bottom. You demons look down on us angels all the time. We were raped and tortured and enslaved by demons. You just took your time in subjugating the last untouched angel.”

“I didn’t rape you!”

“You didn’t make me willing. I gave in. I surrendered. I’ve been beaten all these years– what was one last battlefield among black silks?” Aziraphale stroked his hand down the bedding he sat on.

“I wasn’t trying to subjugate you.” Crowley whispered. “I wanted to make you feel good. I wanted to please you. If I had been trying to hurt you– you wouldn’t have felt one ounce of pleasure.”

“Well, aren’t you noble?” Aziraphale scoffed. “You fucked me to exhaustion but yes, sure, it was all about my pleasure.”

“I–” Crowley swallowed hard. “M’sorry.” Aziraphale’s eyes widened and he looked up at him in surprise. “I am. I’m sorry.” The apology was easier to say the second time. “I knew you were scared. I knew you weren’t ready and I took you anyway.” Crowley glanced up at him, catching his eyes. Golden serpentine eyes that burned with a sincerity that the demon could not deny. “But– if you gave me another chance– that would never happen again.” He offered. “I would be yours to command. I would stop and go only at your pleasure.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, taking him in. Weighing his offer. “Or you can simply go back to being my Keeper of books. S’up to you, angel.”

“And my powers?” Aziraphale asked. “I suppose what I choose determines if you’ll help me unlock them or not.”

“I gave you your wings back.” Crowley shrugged. “I’ll help you regain your powers if you want them, no strings attached.”

“And if I decide to conquer your kingdom and take it for myself?”

“Just keep me as yours. Chain me to your bed if you’ll have me.” Crowley quipped, tilting his head, exposing his neck. The angel’s eyes darkened and Crowley smiled. “You like that, angel? My being bound, awaiting your every whim?”

“It’s not a terrible thought.” Aziraphale hummed. “Golden chains around your throat. A demon helpless for once. I can see the appeal.” He blinked. “But I can’t.”

“Perhaps you could once. Just for fun. No kingdom razing necessary.” Aziraphale’s eyes brightened.

“You’d be helpless for me?” He asked.

“Hm, I’d consider it.” Crowley purred. “We could… discuss it over wine?” He reached over for the basket and pulled the bottle back out. “Hm?” He offered, opening it with a hint of magic. Aziraphale reached for the bottle and took a sip, his eyes widening at the taste. Crowley chuckled as Aziraphale leaned back and took a swig of the bottle. “Hey, share some with me.” Crowley made a grabbing hand with his claws and Aziraphale handed it over. Crowley took a swig before he handed it back.

“This is delicious!”

“Isn’t it just?” Crowley smiled, his teeth sharp. He turned to the basket, getting the strawberries ready. “Try this.”

“What is it?”

“It’s fruit. What do they feed you in the library?”

“I eat the same gruel that all the slaves eat.” Aziraphale blinked over at him. “Same as the other angel and human slaves.”

“Well then you have to try this.” Crowley dipped the strawberry into the melted chocolate and dangled it in front of Aziraphale’s face. “S’delicious.” He watched as Aziraphale sniffed at the fruit, eyeing the chocolate dripping down the red fruit. He leaned forward and bit into the fruit, juice dribbling down his chin. Crowley didn’t miss his little gasp or how he hurriedly ate the rest of the strawberry. He looked at Crowley expectantly and Crowley handed over the bowl.

He watched Aziraphale devour the rest of the strawberries and chocolate. How could he not watch? The angel was gorgeous. Crowley came to sit next to him on the bed, swiping two fingers through the chocolate. He offered his fingers to the angel who studied him before he slowly opened his mouth. Crolwey’s fingers pressed inside and Aziraphale wrapped his lips around his fingers, sucking his fingers clean. “Fuck, angel.”

Crowley pulled his fingers out but Aziraphale came with his hand, pressing up against him. The angel leaned in and kissed him, taking his hand and bringing it between his legs.

“You do this to me. I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s desire, angel.”

“Or lust. Or some silly demon temptation.”

“S’not.” Crowley pressed his other hand to Aziraphale’s cheek. “What you’re feeling is all of your own. I’m not interfering with your feelings. M’not that kind of demon anyway.”

“Fuck.”

“Exactly.” Crowley grinned before he kissed his angel once more. “How do you want me?”

“Got any golden chains?”

“I can whip some up.”

“Good.” Aziraphale purred. “We’ll be needing some. Eventually.” Crowley leaned in and kissed him again, letting the angel pull him down to the silk sheets. He could lay underneath him for a change. In fact, he was more than enjoying this change of pace. Aziraphale ould pin him down whenever he’d like if it meant they’d get to be like this more often.

Together. Connected. Crowleyw wanted it all– no matter what changes it brought. He would fight another war to keep these… possibilities with this angel. He’d fight all the demon lords. He’d fight Satan and God again. He’d fall… Well, no, he wouldn’t fall again but the point stood that he’d still do a great deal to keep this new thing in his miserable existence.

Perhaps then it wouldn’t be so miserable anymore. Ah, hope. A dangerous thing for a demon to have, even one so exalted as Crowley. He focused on Aziraphale instead, desperate to get out of his own throat. Concentrating on how the angel gripped at him and licked his way inside of his mouth. He wasn’t forgiven yet… no, a demon was never meant for redemption no matter how much they might try to explain or apologize. But this was the first second chance he’d ever received and Crowley was sure that he wouldn’t muck it up too badly this time.

Aziraphale straddled his hips and Crowley’s body couldn’t help but respond, bucking up slightly to get some kind of friction going between them. Aziraphale moved just enough so that there was nothing and Crowley whined.

“Please?” He gasped and Aziraphale chuckled before kissing him. Oh, he was a fast learner, this angel, very clever indeed. Crowley needed him like he’d never needed anything before.

“A demon with manners?” Aziraphale nipped at his throat and Crowley made a sound. “C’mon, I can feel you holding back.” He smirked. “You have my permission to move now. Come take your prize.” Crowley snarled, flipping them over quickly, pinning Aziraphale underneath him. There were too many layers between them and he made quick work of the Keeper of the Books’ robes. Aziraphale lay there bare but not ashamed, gazing up at him like he was proud to have whipped Crowley into such a frenzy. His golden eyes nearly bulged, full serpentine, without a trace of white. Sharp fangs flashed and he bit down on Aziraphale’s shoulder, trying to stay in control of himself.

Aziraphale let his legs splay open and Crowley didn’t need another invitation. He dived in, nose first, and then with tongue, letting Aziraphale clamp his thighs around his face. Oh, he didn’t need air but even if he did, he wouldn’t have moved from his perch. He lapped at Aziraphale’s clit until the angel started moaning, then added two fingers, the same two fingers that had been inside of Aziraphale’s mouth earlier.

Aziraphale’s shriek hinted at a building climax and Crowley knew that meant to stop nothing. He kept going, licking and lapping attentively even as he stretched Aziraphale’s opening with a third finger. Aziraphale’s legs trembled hard and then he cried out, a wave of divine power washing over the both of them as he gripped the sheets with white knuckles.

Crowley couldn’t hold back anymore, wishing away his own clothes and slamming his cock inside of Aziraphale’s ready cunt.

“That’s it.” Aziraphale purred, surprisingly smug for someone who had just had the best orgasm of his life. “Take your prize, you foul fiend.” The expression was oddly fond and Crowley found he didn’t mind the gaze that accompanied it. It made him want to perform. To do his best. To be found worthy and acceptable. Lovable. Redeemable… if only for a moment. Aziraphale wrapped his legs around Crowley’s hips, meeting each thrusts, and Crowley came undone quickly, filling up his angel to the brim. He pitched forward but Aziraphale caught him, laying him back down on the bed. “I’ve got you.” The angel whispered, echoing his past words back to him. “I won’t let you fall again.”