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Chapter Text

Cover by Cherophobe 

D1 Wings/Halos

Before the beginning.

Aziraphale had managed to find the Seraphim he had met the day before. He had thought of nothing but him since he had explained how nebulae worked. His curly red hair, his hazel eyes... His speech, his facial expressions... There he was, right in front of him. 

Still busy with his books, maps and crank, he was sculpting the galaxy with fascination and dedication. He still hadn't remembered his name, but it didn't matter. The Seraphim was too distracted to pay attention to such details, and Aziraphale, being such a prosaic Cherubim, really liked this slightly disconnected side to him! He had been studying human reproduction since the day before with his colleagues, and was eager to experiment with some theories with the handsome Seraphim...

So it was with the utmost innocence that he approached the Starmaker, flapping his wings, and came to a halt beside him.

"Um... Hello!" he greeted him cheerfully. 

"Oh, hello, um..."

"Aziraphale!" 

"Aziraphale," repeated the Seraphim, the tone of his voice clearly indicating that he would have forgotten the name before the end of the conversation. 

"So... What's new?" asked Aziraphale cheerfully, rubbing his hands together. 

"What do you mean, what's new? A quarter of a galaxy since last time! You?" asked the Seraphim distractedly. 

"Oh! Well, I'm glad you asked! My team and I have been working on 'human reproduction', as well as the concept of 'pleasure'...” 

"Yeah? Sounds fascinating," replied the Seraphim, sounding unconvinced.

"I was thinking that... Perhaps we could... Experiment a few... Concepts, you and I?"

The Seraph let his map and his crank drift around them to turn his face towards him, making the red curl on top of his head bounce:

"An experiment? I love experiments! Let's go," he replied.

"Tickety-boo! Well, there's no need to move, we can just, um... Stay here! In fact, that seems ideal to me..."

"Perfect! So... show me!" said the Seraph impatiently.

The dimples in his cheeks made him utterly irresistible at that moment! With a few flaps of his wings, Aziraphale found himself behind the Seraphim. He hesitantly placed one hand on his shoulder, then the other, and with careful movements, he began to massage him, gently working his way up towards his neck. As he did so, he moved closer and closer to him, their robes brushing dangerously against each other, while the Starmaker sighed blissfully.

“It's... It's rather nice, I must say! Relaxing…” 

“You haven't seen anything yet... For the next part, we would need to... We would need to be, um... Naked…”

“Naked? But what good would that do us?” asked the Seraphim in surprise.

"Nothing in our celestial forms, but if you'll allow me... I can give us some human attributes," suggested Aziraphale. "I've studied the matter extensively," he assured him. 

"Oi! No problem! It's a bit like a game, isn't it?" 

"A most enjoyable game, if I'm not mistaken..." 

A small miracle later, their robes had evaporated and they both possessed a man's body. Amazed, the Seraphim flew around, admiring himself and touching his crotch:

"Wahoo! That's funny! It feels weird... What's it for? Oh! You've got the same thing, did you see?” he enthused.

As he touched his testicles and penis, the Seraphim felt a new sensation arise within him, which reverberated through his new member, which hardened under his fingers. 

"What the...?" he stammered, looking at Aziraphale.

The Cherubim, his face crimson, motioned to him:

"Come back in front of me! I'll show you..." 

The Seraphim awkwardly repositioned himself in front of Aziraphale, who began massaging him again, running his hands over his neck, shoulders and back. He then brushed his slender hips and slid his hands over his pubic hair, eliciting a heavy sigh from the Starmaker. Aziraphale then stopped his movements, whispering in his ear: 

"Do you allow me to touch you here? The experiment can stop now if you don't want to go any further!" 

"N... Ngk... No, go on, keep going! I... I really want you to touch me here!” 

"Good..." 

The Cherubim's hands feverishly brushed against his pubic hair before continuing their exploration. He began by caressing his testicles, while planting a series of small kisses on the hollow of his neck, before stroking the entire length of his penis. Attentive to his partner's slightest reactions, Aziraphale encouraged him:

"Tell me what you want..."

The Seraphim had to lean on Aziraphale's sturdy forearms to concentrate: 

"I... Ngk... It feels good when you touch me like that! But... I also like it when you touch these... My balls, just below!" he recovered. 

"Like this?" asked Aziraphale, caressing his scrotum with one hand, while the other began to masturbate him slowly. 

"Ngk... Like this, yes," replied the Seraphim, moaning. "By the halo of all the Saints, what are you doing to me? It's... Wahoo..."  

"It's the concept of pleasure I've been working on... I wasn't sure if it would work..." explained Aziraphale, before resting his lips on the Seraphim's neck, who tilted his head to give him free access. 

"It... It works, by the Supreme Archangel! I feel... Something inside me... It's rising..."

"Don't be afraid! It's called an 'orgasm', it should happen any minute now! It's the moment when your pleasure will be so intense that your brain will pause for a few moments…” 

"What... What's going to happen?" asked the Seraphim, feeling his body begin to tremble. 

"You're going to come in my hand! Your penis will pulsate and shoot the semen contained in your 'balls'...”

"What's semen?"

"The substance that ensures human reproduction!" 

"But... If it ends up in your hand, how can it..."

"Shh!" whispered Aziraphale. "Leave the details to my team... The experiment focuses solely on pleasure." 

"I'm going to... Here it comes!" 

"Let yourself go! I've got you, surrender to your pleasure!" 

"I... Ngk... AZIRAPHALE!"

As he shouted the Cherubim's name, the Seraphim spilled into the palm of his hand, his body racked with spasms. Aziraphale's arms held him tightly against his chest, while in the distance, a new nebula dazzled the cosmos.

"So you remembered my name?" asked the Cherubim mischievously. 

"Oh, shut up!" snapped the Seraphim, regaining his composure. "I suppose you never forget your first time..." he added, his tone full of mischief.

Unfortunately, yes.

A few millennia and a Rebellion later, the Seraphim found himself cast out of Heaven and his memory confiscated. He did not even take with him the memory of his first orgasm, nor did he take with him the memory of Aziraphale. Only the Cherubim would remember that immortal moment for eternity, cherishing it for both of them... 

Author's note : See you again for Day 10.

Chapter Text

J10 blasphemy / priest

The Mysteries of the Rosary

Aziraphale had gone for a walk in Soho, taking advantage of the early autumn weather, to find some decorations for the bookshop. Ever since he saw that Nina—like most of the shopkeepers on Whickber Street—had decorated her café, the angel had decided to do the same. It must be said that since he had started hosting writing sessions and reading groups, the bookshop had become increasingly popular. Through these activities, he had found a way to share his love of words in a fun way and, above all, without having to part with any of his books... Crowley, for his part, was fond of these small groups, who took advantage of the intimacy of these meetings to share gossip and little secrets, which he listened to with amusement, curled up in his animal form on his angel's desk. This was how he had learned that Mr. Arnold was a regular at Mrs. Sandwich's establishment, or that Mr. Brown was taking a few liberties on his tax return...

In any case, the demon had refused to accompany Aziraphale, as he was too busy indulging in his third afternoon nap. He was roused from his slumber by the alarm on his mobile phone, which rang every day at five. He stretched lazily and reached a long, manicured finger towards the touchscreen to silence the ringing, grumbling as he did so, and decided to sit up on the sofa. If "sitting up" was the right term for the complex position he had just adopted... After a series of jaw-dropping yawns, Crowley got up and hopped over to the kitchen. With meticulous and careful movements, he began his ritual.

Put the water on to boil in the old kettle: done.

Take out the loose bergamot tea: done.  

Prepare a tray with a floral porcelain cup, an elegant silver spoon and a jar of honey: done. 

He had gotten into this habit when he moved in with Aziraphale after his returning from Heaven: preparing the angel's tea and delighting in watching him sip it down to the last drop before carefully wiping the corners of his mouth.

Add his AF monogrammed napkin: done.

"Something's missing..." he muttered, looking at the tray and running a hand through his hair (currently short and spiky). "Food!" he added with a loving smile. 

With a snap of his fingers, a generous slice of brioche materialised on the tray, placed on a dessert plate matching the cup. It was perfect! However, Crowley frowned. No. Something was still missing... He had brought back some chocolates from Switzerland last week and there were still some left. Nothing was too good for Aziraphale, so he set about searching for the box in the cupboards of the small kitchen.

"Bloody hell, where did I put it...?" 

After searching the last cupboard, he began to examine the somewhat cluttered worktop.

"We really need to renovate this kitchen," he grumbled as he opened a drawer. “Bingo!”

The precious box was there, for some unknown reason... When he lifted it up, his yellow eyes narrowed again. 

"Fuck, what's this now?"

Carefully placing the box on the worktop, Crowley took out the object he was contemplating and examined it between his long fingers, whose nails were painted the same yellow as his irises. It was a rosary, relatively ordinary, with light wooden beads and a small golden crucifix at the end. 

"Am I interrupting your prayers, dear?"

Aziraphale had spoken softly, yet Crowley jumped like a child caught red-handed and hastily dropped the rosary, which crashed against the worktop.

"Aziraphale," whispered the demon, turning slightly.  

"I didn't mean to scare you," added the angel with an amused grimace, approaching to place his shopping bag on the table.

"It's just... I didn't hear you come in! I was looking for the chocolates and I stumbled upon this. What the hell is it doing in the drawer?" asked Crowley, regaining his composure. 

He resented himself for sometimes overreacting like this! But it had to be said that he had been through some difficult times and his nerves had been put to the test, and although the angel had been back for several months now, the ghost of his absence was struggling to dissipate. 

"No idea!" replied Aziraphale sincerely, with a concentrated frown. "On the other hand, I thought it looked perfectly at home, intertwined in your elegant hands..." 

The temperature changed completely in a fraction of a second! Aziraphale was looking at him with those eyes... A look that was enough, on its own, to lay him bare, in every sense of the word!

"I... I made you your tea," stammered Crowley, with an air he hoped was convincing.

Game over. He had lost! Aziraphale took two more steps towards him and already the demon felt his legs buckling...

"How kind of you, dear! However, I imagine it's boiling hot, and I have a little idea how to occupy my time while it cools down..." 

“An... Ngk... An idea, you say?”

“Yes! The rosary is embellished by your hands, but it would be even more so... In a slightly more strategic place…”

“Oh really? And where exactly?” asked Crowley, who was getting caught up in the game. 

“Around your neck!”

Crowley wasn't expecting that answer, but it piqued his natural curiosity. He raised an amused eyebrow. 

"Don't you like my scarf anymore?"

"Oh, I do, but the rosary would make an equally effective leash, wouldn't it?"

"A slightly more blasphemous one, angel," whispered Crowley, moving closer to him as he handed him the rosary. 

"For a demon, that's fair game..." replied Aziraphale, taking the object of devotion in his hands. "Let's go to the living room, we'll be more comfortable there for... Communion!"

The demon didn't need to be asked twice to follow him to the sofa he had left a short while earlier. Before sitting down, Aziraphale gently undressed Crowley and slipped the rosary around his slender neck. He watched eagerly as the small cross nestled in the hollow of his chest, dressing his collarbones with fine olive wood beads, matching perfectly with his countless freckles. Aziraphale then took the rosary in one hand and pressed it very lightly.

"Undress me," he ordered in a calm voice. 

"Ngk..." 

"Without taking your eyes off me," the angel added quietly, with a mischievous smile. 

"Fuck," hissed the demon.

"Tsss Tsss," Aziraphale reprimanded him, pulling on the beads. "No foul language with this object on you!"

Crowley began to remove the angel's clothes one by one, while holding his clear, hungry gaze. He almost looked away several times while trying to unbutton Aziraphale's trousers or remove his tartan socks, but the delicious pressure exerted on his "leash" effectively dissuaded him!

"Your eyes are wonderful, my dear, I want to drown in them!" 

Once completely naked, Aziraphale sat down slowly on the sofa, inviting the demon to kneel between his thighs while maintaining ideal pressure on the rosary. Crowley placed his hands flat on the angel's fleshy thighs, smiling slyly at him. 

"You didn't need that thing to guide me here, you know that! I know my place," added the demon, running a daring hand over his partner's hardened crotch. 

Aziraphale's breathing grew louder as Crowley's long fingers gently closed around his cock to masturbate him. His eyes still locked with the angel's, Crowley let a trickle of saliva run down his glans to ease his movements. 

Aziraphale let out a muffled groan and had to make an effort not to close his eyes briefly as pleasure surged through him.

"You're obscene!" he said with a smile.

"You're not bad yourself!"

"You haven't seen anything yet..." 

"It must be said that my field of vision is limited to your eyes, Aziraphale," the demon reminded him mischievously.

"Very well... In that case, I'll allow you to look down for a moment!"

With delight, Crowley looked down at the angel's thick, erect penis, whose protruding veins testified to his arousal. He then felt the hand holding the rosary relax and slide the object to the top of the demon's skull, then adorn his erection. Under Crowley's burning gaze, the angel wrapped his testicles and the base of his penis in the string of pearls.

"Wahoo... How obscene you look like that, angel! May I recite the prayers I wish to address to your big... Holiness…” 

"Please do," replied Aziraphale, amused. 

Crowley then leaned over the angel's compressed crotch and once again slid a trickle of saliva over his hypersensitive glans. 

"I believe in you, Holy Phallus Almighty, I believe in the communion of our bodies, in your Holy Erection, in the awakening of sins and in the mingling of our flesh. Amen," he concluded, before taking the angel's glans into his mouth and swirling his forked tongue around it. 

Aziraphale threw his head back and the demon heard him sigh heavily.

"Go on..."

"Hallowed be thy name, thy will be done in my mouth as it is elsewhere, give me this day my juice. Lead me into temptation and above all, deliver me not from evil! Amen”, he whispered, moving lower down the angel's penis, eliciting a moan from him. 

"Keep continue..."

"Hail, heavy and full testicles, blessed are ye among all others, and blessed is your Holy Sap. Amen," muttered Crowley, licking each one greedily in turn.

"Look at me when you do that," the angel ordered briefly, spreading his thighs wider.“Continue…”

"Glory to the phallus, to the testicles and their sap now and forever and ever. Amen," continued the demon, moving down to Aziraphale's pubis to take him entirely into his mouth. 

"I fear that such devotion will not allow me to remain in this state for centuries," sighed Aziraphale, running a hand through Crowley's hair while pulling more firmly on the rosary to apply pressure around his private parts that was as painful as it was exciting. 

"It doesn't matter, angel, I'm dying to swallow your communion wine right now!" 

"You're a depraved little thing, my nightingale!" 

"In that case, you should let me pray a little longer, you know... For my salvation..." 

"Who am I to deny you that?" Aziraphale said amusedly. 

On the fourth recitation of the rosary, Aziraphale released the necklace as his hands clenched Crowley's short locks to keep him from speaking and keep his lips sealed around his cock. He accompanied the demon's head movements and pushed his hips forward to sink a little deeper into his mouth. With a groan of pleasure that he made no effort to suppress, he spilled himself onto Crowley's tongue, singing his praises. 

After letting out a moan of contentment, the demon wiped his lips on the back of his hand:

"Amen..."  

Chapter Text

IK D12 + D25: Feminization + Plug / plugging

TW: transphobic comments / inappropriate behaviour

Connected

Aziraphale was hosting a writing session on this rather chilly autumn evening. For once, Mr Brown hadn't signed up, so Crowley - not having to watch over the carpet salesman's heavy-handed flirting with the angel - didn't need to subject himself to the meeting. The theme of the session was to write a short piece of fan fiction based on a work by Jane Austen. The meeting was scheduled to last three hours. 

So the demon had arranged to meet Nina and Maggie at The Dirty Donkey for a girls' night out. The trio's girls' nights out were too rare for Crowley's liking, as he loved wearing women's clothes outside the privacy of the bookshop. The people of Soho were fairly open-minded, and the demon rarely had to endure rude comments from a few passing louts, and when that did happen, he rarely had time to react before Nina did! His friend was quick to fight, especially after a few drinks, and Maggie's attempts to temper her ardour were systematically unsuccessful; Nina preferred to show her friendship with her fists rather than with words. She considered words useless when dealing with "scumbags" and preferred not to waste them. For Nina, words were too precious and should be reserved for people worthy of interest!  

This was new to Crowley. Having friends. Since his Fall, he had only been able to count on Aziraphale, but now all the shopkeepers on Whickber Street greeted him warmly in the street! Some had become more than mere acquaintances, such as Nina and Maggie, of course, but also the Mutt couple from the magic shop and Mrs. Sandwich, who ran a highly rated "seamstress establishment" in Soho. 

It was Mrs. Sandwich who had organised the party to which the trio had been invited that evening...

"We have to go," Nina said, putting her tequila down on the bar. 

"Already?" Crowley asked, looking at his watch. "Oh, right!" 

"You should change your watch when you're dressed like that, Anthony!" 

"Well... Why? I like my watch..." 

"Well… Let's just say it doesn't really match your dress," Maggie added in her soft voice. 

Tonight, Crowley was wearing a long, black, backless dress with long sleeves. The fabric was form-fitting and had a large slit up his right leg, and the back neckline was highlighted by three rows of rhinestone chains. 

"You look gorgeous like that, but that watch is too masculine! You need something more delicate..."

"Or no watch at all!" added Nina, shrugging her shoulders. 

"Tell Aziraphale to buy you another watch," suggested Maggie mischievously.

"Or a pretty bracelet?" 

The demon examined his watch from every angle. He liked it very much, but perhaps it didn't quite match his outfit. So he took it off and slipped it into his pocket, while thinking about the girls' suggestions. How would Aziraphale take such a request? After all, he had never asked him for anything, let alone a piece of jewellery... He felt the girls get up and adjust their clothes, but remained deep in thought.  

"Come on, move! We'll be the last ones there otherwise," Nina urged. 

Without waiting, she and Maggie left the still crowded pub, while Crowley lazily got up, glancing at his mobile phone: 7:50 p.m. The sex toy slash cocktail party slash drinking session was starting in ten minutes, and the writing session was ending in an hour! He had promised Aziraphale he wouldn't be late, so he hurried to smooth out his dress and join the girls, who were already on the pavement. He was shaking his long red hair behind him, his head tilted slightly back, when he felt the strong smell of cheap aftershave assault his nostrils.

"Can I buy you a drink?" a man's voice called out behind him. 

Surprised, Crowley turned abruptly, adjusting his Valentino glasses on his nose: 

"Sorry?" 

The intruder was whistling silently, looking him up and down like the abstinent predator he was. He wasn't bad to look at, but his hungry expression ruined his potential. Dressed in a cheap suit, he was already signalling to the waiter: 

"Two mojitos for the lady and me, please."   

"I didn't say yes," Crowley muttered in a drawling voice. 

"Does your mother bake rusks?" 

"Sorry?" repeated the demon, taken aback, leaning his head forward. 

"Because you look crispy," replied the man, clearly pleased with his joke. 

"My mother invented rusks, to tell you the truth," retorted Crowley with a forced smile. "And assholes too, much to my regret." 

The waiter placed the drinks on the bar before walking away to take another order, and the intruder pushed a glass towards Crowley.

"Yeah? Your mother sounds as interesting as you are!" he replied, without losing his confidence.

"You're wasting your time, ladies' man..." 

"Come on! When you dress like that, it's not to go to a prayer group…” the man mocked, raising his glass to his mouth, without taking his piggish eyes off every part of the demon's body. 

"You can say that again! However, it's not to get hit on either, especially not in such a pathetic way..." 

"For a tranny, you're being rather difficult! You won't find anyone else to fuck you, you know that?" replied the intruder, standing up and moving closer to Crowley, suddenly much less friendly. 

"Nothing is less certain! And it's not with that attitude that you're going to find anyone to fuck you! You've got a lot to learn about women.”

The man laughed loudly, grabbing Crowley firmly by the elbow:

"You're not the one to teach me how to talk to women, especially with a cock hidden under that dress!"

Crowley looked at his hand on his arm, then at his face, before smiling: 

"If I were you, I'd stop right now and get out of here fast!"

The man snorted:

"Since when do we apologise to people like you?"

A slap to the back of his head made him let go of Crowley, who cautiously stepped back: Nina's face had just appeared behind the intruder. 

"Since people like them have friends who will do anything to defend them," she growled through clenched teeth.

Maggie immediately grabbed the mojito glass intended for Crowley and threw it in the man's face:

"You're disrespecting Crowley, you're disrespecting all women!"

Nina looked at her lovingly: 

"Baby," she whispered admiringly.

Maggie then held out her hand to Crowley:

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

Crowley wondered vaguely how he was going to get used to this too. Compassion. He took her outstretched hand and smiled sincerely: 

"Yes, thank you! I wasn't in any danger, you know?"

"Let's go, we're already late because of this loser!" added Nina.

"Aren't you going to beat him up?" asked the demon in surprise.

"No time! The others will buy everything if we arrive too late..." 

The meeting was not over when Crowley left Mrs Sandwich's establishment. He did not go unnoticed on his way out. Attracting the attention of all the customers, he slipped his only purchase into his pocket and took the time to greet all the participants, insisting that Mrs Sandwich organise another meeting without delay in the boudoir of her brothel.

"Glad you like it, darling! I'm sure you and your bookseller will have fun with what you bought. Let me know what you think! Shall we meet tomorrow morning at Nina's? Nine o'clock? It's my turn to buy you coffee!" suggested the proprietress, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. 

"Nine o'clock sharp! Good night..."

Crowley returned safely to the bookshop, ignoring the usual propositions from customers who passed him in the street and thought the demon worked at the brothel. His "success" had surprised him at first. He had become accustomed to being accosted in his male corporation during Aziraphale's "absence" - when he wandered aimlessly around Soho - but he certainly did not expect to be accosted as much when dressed as a woman. Especially since he was only dressed as a woman and not in his female corporation! Man or woman, he caught all the lustful glances in Soho, especially when "dressed like a slut", as Mrs Sandwich liked to point out affectionately. 

With a mocking smile, after being asked for the third time about his "rates", he walked through the door of the bookshop and caught the eye of Mrs Mutt in the entrance, who greeted him cheerfully:

"Crowley! What a dress! It fits you like a glove! Did you have a good evening?”

"Yeah, it was nice! Is the meeting just ending?" he asked in surprise.

"It ended twenty minutes ago, but Aziraphale was talking about magic with my husband," replied Mrs Mutt, rolling her eyes. 

Sure enough, Mr Mutt's imposing figure appeared behind his wife. 

"Good evening, Crowley," he greeted him politely. 

"Evening!" 

"Have a good evening," he added, turning to Aziraphale, who was approaching. 

"Good evening," said the bookseller as the couple walked down the street. "We're in sync," he added to Crowley, stepping forward to place a chaste kiss on his lips, enhanced with bright red lipstick. 

"Did it go well?" 

"Yes," replied the bookseller enthusiastically. "I have some very diligent students! Some of them are really talented... How about you?"

"Awesome! We’ll do it again soon with the girls..."

"Tickety-boo!" enthused the angel, clenching his fists joyfully. "Can I buy you a drink?"

The demon smiled: 

"This is the second time someone has offered me a drink tonight, but you're the only one I can say yes to, angel..."

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow but stepped aside to let the demon in, who unceremoniously kicked off his high heels and flopped down on the sofa.

"Talisker?" 

"Please!"

With two glasses in hand, the angel sat down next to Crowley and handed him his whisky.

"Did you find anything?" he asked curiously.

The angel had understood the appeal of sex toy meetings faster than he had...

"Yeah, something nice! Well... It seems!” replied Crowley, taking the small package out of his pocket and handing it to the bookseller.

"What is it?"

"It's called a 'plug'!"

Aziraphale looked at the small golden metal object topped with a black rhinestone with interest. He ran his fingers over its smooth surface.

"It's... small," he commented.

"Smaller than you, that's for sure!" laughed the demon.

"Is it supposed to... give you pleasure?"

"If I have to get pleasure from this, we're not out of Limbo! It's supposed to prepare me... If I understood correctly…”

The bookseller raised an eyebrow in surprise:

"But... Isn't that my job?"

"Think of it as a technical aid! You know... Like the cock ring I bought last month!" 

The angel blushed slightly and stammered:

"Um, yes... Humans have good ideas, I must admit, but... I wonder if..." he added, turning the plug in his hands.  

"If what?" asked Crowley, putting down his empty glass. 

"I have an idea!" exclaimed the angel.

"Oh dear..." grimaced Crowley. "Not a magic trick, I hope?"

"We'll have to make this object disappear inside you, my dear!" replied the bookseller mischievously, running a hand through the demon's long red locks. 

"If it's that kind of magic, I'm fine with it..."

"You look magnificent tonight! That outfit suits you perfectly, yet I dream of tearing it off you..."

"Hands off, Aziraphale! I love this dress, and you've torn almost all the others!" Crowley snapped. 

The bookseller raised his hands:

"All right, all right! In that case, I'll just lift it up to make love to you..."

"Is it your writing club that's got you so horny?" laughed Crowley. 

"It's just you," replied Aziraphale before leaning down to kiss him, this time in a much less chaste manner. 

Crowley squirmed in the angel's arms and managed to pull his lips away for a moment:

"In the bedroom, n’gel!"

"Your wish is my command, my nightingale..." agreed Aziraphale, lifting him up in his arms.

"Don't forget the plug!"

"Aziraphale!"  

Dishevelled, Crowley tried to blow a strand of hair out of his face. Still leaning on his elbows, he turned his face slightly to look at the angel, who had not yet withdrawn despite the fact that he had come at the same time as him.

"Are you going to stay there all night?" joked Crowley, wiggling his bum. 

"I love you!" Aziraphale replied spontaneously, in a breathless confession.

"Oh. I love you too, my angel!"

"Where's your little toy?" asked Aziraphale, scanning the crumpled and soiled sheets around him. 

"The plug? You didn't even use it!" replied Crowley, fumbling under the pillow to find the sex toy. "It's here!" he added, throwing the object towards the bookseller.  

"That was deliberate! I was saving it for this moment!" 

"Huh? But... I don't think you understand what this thing is for!" 

"I do, but I prefer to use it differently, you see? Like this..." he added.

He withdrew delicately and, as his penis, glistening with the remnants of his orgasm, discovered Crowley's dilated anus, he immediately inserted the plug, causing the demon to jump.

"Hey! But... Blimey, that's cold!"

"Oh! Forgive me, I'll warm it in my mouth next time," apologised Aziraphale, caressing the part of Crowley’s back exposed by the neckline of the dress.

"Are you planning on doing that again?" asked Crowley mischievously, turning over to lie on his back. 

"Tomorrow, definitely! But for now, I'm going to run a nice hot bath, knowing that my seed will stay where I left it," replied Aziraphale smugly. 

"You know I'm not going to keep this up all night, I hope?" 

“What I do know is that you're going to join me in the bathroom and, while I'm relaxing in the water, you're going to slip out of that gorgeous dress and bend over in front of me so that I can remove that little plug and see my seed dripping down your thighs…”  

"Ngk..."

"That's what I thought... I'm going to run the bath!" added Aziraphale, leaning forward to lift Crowley's dress and press his lips to his sex.

"Fuck, angel," sighed Crowley, throwing his head back. 

Aziraphale grunted with satisfaction at the salty, bitter taste on Crowley's glans, still covered in cum.

"You ruined your dress all by yourself today, I had nothing to do with it," he whispered, lifting his face to meet the demon's serpentine irises. 

"If I cum in my dress, it's your fault, angel!" corrected the demon.

"I'll buy you another one," promised Aziraphale.  

"Well, actually..." 

"Yes?" 

"I'd rather have a bracelet! If... If you want to... Give me something..." stammered Crowley, confused. 

The angel frowned:

"Anything you want, Crowley! I... I dream of showering you with gifts, but... I… I didn't dare..."

"That's why you shower me with something else," joked Crowley, to dispel the awkwardness. 

"Speaking of which... Bath!" added Aziraphale cheerfully, sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his sock garters and tartan socks.

Would he ever get used to this? With a joyful smile, he suddenly felt certain he would.

Chapter Text

IK D13 Ancient Rome

Salutaria!

Year 41, Rome

After offering a few temptations ordered by Beelzebub with varying degrees of conviction (more on the low side, to be honest), Crowley had, in fact, allowed himself to be tempted by Aziraphale's suggestion to try Petronius' restaurant on the left bank of the Tiber, not far from the Field of Mars. “He does remarkable things with oysters,” the angel had said. Crowley had never eaten oysters. In fact, he didn't eat, except when his path crossed that of the Principality. The demon was content with alcoholic beverages concocted by humans, and that suited him just fine!

Since their reunion a few weeks earlier, Aziraphale had been making double entendres whenever he met the demon, and the demon never missed an opportunity to return the insinuations! It must be said that they had missed each other since the crucifixion... Time stretched slowly when they were apart, and each secretly hoped that one day they would be able to see each other more regularly. Living among humans had given rise to an interest between them that was very different from what their hierarchy had expected; an interest that had only grown since they had rubbed shoulders with the Romans and their loose morals...

Crowley was not impressed by the taste of oysters, unlike the angel, who had eaten his with undisguised pleasure, accompanied by loud slurping noises.

“Didn't you like it?” asked Aziraphale, visibly disappointed.
“Nah, it's slimy, and what's more, it's still alive when you eat it. I find that a bit gross!”
“Oh...” sighed the angel, before burping loudly.
“Well?” teased Crowley, turning his face sharply toward the mortified Aziraphale.
“My apologies... I think I ate too much in this heat...”
“Mhmm...”
“How about we go for a swim?” the angel suddenly suggested.
“Sorry?”
“At the Baths of Caracalla, we're very close!”
“But... it's nighttime, Aziraphale! We spent over three hours at Petronius's house eating all his oysters...”
“Oh... But I know the guards, maybe they'll make an exception!”

And so it was that the two celestials found themselves at the gates of the baths at a very late hour, where the moonlight nevertheless illuminated them as if it were broad daylight.

“Halt!” commanded one of the guards.
“Salutatio vespertina!”
“Aziraphalus, is that you?” asked the guard in surprise as he approached.
“Indeed! I... We would like to perform some ablutions, Barrius...” explained the angel in a neutral tone.
“The baths are closed at night, you know that! I can't let you and your slave in,” apologized the guard.
“He's not my...” began Aziraphale, his eyes wide, turning to Crowley.
“You really call yourself Aziraphalus?” scoffed the demon, snapping his fingers.

The guard stepped aside to let them pass:

“Have a good evening,” he said. “All right, let Aziraphalus and his slave pass,” he ordered the other guards. 

Once inside the huge building, Aziraphale led them straight to the Tepidarium (1). 

"You're more upset about my name than the fact that this Roman took you for my slave," Aziraphale said in surprise on the way.
"I'm not surprised, I'm amused!" corrected the demon. "Aziraphalus? Seriously?"
"Are you going to mock me forever? Slaves don't mock, remember!" replied Aziraphale, before stopping abruptly at the edge of the elegant pool.
"Is there a problem, Aziraphalus?"
"It's... It's just that... Have you ever been to the baths before, Crowley?"
"No. Why?"
"You have to... Ahem... It's customary to bathe naked..."
“Oh... And that's a problem for you? You seem to know the place well, though, you must come here often…”
“I do! But... I don't want to force you!”
“Just show me the customs of the Romans, angel,” replied the demon in a voice full of innuendo. “I'm just a poor slave after all…”

With slightly flushed cheeks, Aziraphale looked down at Crowley's toga.

"Um... Normally, slaves don't bathe with their masters!" explained the angel in an amused tone.
"Oh, really? Then what do they do?" asked the demon seriously, becoming increasingly tempting.
"They... They undress their masters..."
"Let's see how I fare..."

Crowley closed the distance between them with a single stride and found himself face to face with the angel, who silently stared at his face.

"You should take off your glasses, the water will damage them!" 

The demon grimaced, but Aziraphale was already reaching for his face: 

"May I?"
"Ngk..."

The Principality gently removed the pair of sunglasses and made them disappear with a flick of his fingers. Once Crowley's serpentine eyes were revealed, the air became heavier and the tension between them noticeably more charged. In a thick silence, Crowley began to unfasten the gold fibula, which he reverently placed on the ground, crouching slowly in front of the angel before standing up again. With slightly trembling hands, he pulled apart the folds of the white toga, letting it slide to the angel's feet, barely holding it back, too busy admiring Aziraphale's nakedness, finally revealed. His gaze lingered first on his shoulders and chest, covered with hair as white as his hair, then on his rounded belly, before sliding lower. 

He felt the angel hold his breath.

"A slave would never dare to stare at his master's body like that for fear of being punished, my dear..." he finally said in a deep voice that Crowley had never heard before, but which he loved instantly.
"Your body arouses my curiosity, angel!"
"Allow me to admire yours, please..."  

With hesitant movements, Crowley stripped off his toga, which he modestly held in front of his crotch for a few moments.

"Don't doubt your beauty, Crowley!" encouraged Aziraphale. 

The demon slid his robe to the floor, where it fell limply onto the marble, next to the angel's. Aziraphale let out a sound halfway between wonder and a hungry growl, his eyes lost in contemplation of the demon's slender, freckled body. 

"I've never seen you naked in all this time..."
"Ngk..." growled Crowley, looking away.
"It's an enchanting sight, I must admit! Would you care to bathe with me, dear?"
"I... I don't know... Is it hot, like boiling sulphur?" the demon asked fearfully, looking at the smooth surface of the pool.
"Of course not! The water is temperate here, don't worry. I would never take you anywhere where you might hurt yourself…”

He took the demon's hand in his:

"Come with me!" he encouraged him.

Aziraphale entered the pool first, accompanied by the demon, who immersed himself after a final hesitation.

"See? It's nice..." the angel reassured him. "I'm surprised you've never been to the baths before! To be honest, I'm surprised a demon is afraid of hot water..." he continued, taking a few steps into the pool. 
"Mhmm... Obviously you haven't been immersed in boiling sulphur for a million years..."
"Oh!" exclaimed the angel, turning around. "I'm sorry, Crowley, I didn't mean to..."
"It's nothing, angel! It was a long time ago..." replied the demon sadly.

"Come closer! If... If you want to, of course..." added Aziraphale awkwardly.

Crowley quickly joined him; the water formed a few ripples on the surface of the pool, the lapping of which echoed in the huge empty room.

"So, you often come here to bathe with naked people?" he asked mockingly, to hide his confusion. 
"Well... It's rather pleasant! And many important discussions take place in the baths, you know?"
"Oh yeah? Do you find it pleasant to bathe in your birthday suit?"
"R... Rather yes," stammered Aziraphale. "Don't you?" he added defiantly.

The demon took a moment to think; he took a few steps back into the pool and concentrated on the feel of the water on his skin, its pressure against his legs, his stomach and his genitals…

"You feel... freer! It's rather nice, I must admit… Apart from walking, what else is there to do here? It's not big enough to swim in…”
"We relax, my dear! We chat..."
"We relax..." repeated Crowley sceptically. "How?"
"Well, by enjoying the water. We can also get a massage from a slave..."
“Oh! You want... You want me to massage you, is that it?”
“Have you ever massaged anyone before?” asked the angel, curiously.
“Never,” replied Crowley spontaneously.
“Good,” whispered Aziraphale, with obvious satisfaction. “I can show you if you like?”
"Why not? How... How does it work?"
"Stand in front of me," encouraged the angel, accompanying his words with gestures.

Crowley did as he was asked, and the angel encouraged him to turn around and present his back, which he began to stroke delicately. Aziraphale's hands were soft against his neck and shoulders. So soft that Crowley quickly relaxed, his apprehension giving way to a gentle torpor, which the angel quickly noticed.

Aziraphale slid his hands down the demon's arms and pressed himself against him, offering his body as support to Crowley's, which had become limp. 

"Whatreyoudoing?" murmured the demon.
"Shh... Relax, dear," whispered Aziraphale in his ear, brushing the hollow of his neck with his lips.
"Ziraphale..." stammered the demon, tilting his head back against the Principality's solid shoulder.
"Shh..."

The angel continued his caresses, running his hands over Crowley's chest, carefully tracing his collarbones. He lingered on his nipples, which he felt hardened under his skilled fingers. A few moans escaped Crowley's lips, causing Aziraphale growing satisfaction and excitement. His own cock was already straining against the demon's buttocks, which did not seem to offend him! 

Crowley's breathing became more laboured as the angelic hands approached his lower abdomen. He held his breath when they finally landed on his cock. Aziraphale took the demon's erect cock in one hand, while the other caressed his testicles, hardened with pleasure. He felt them roll under his fingers, and when Crowley began to breathe again, the angel began to masturbate him gently, eliciting a loud yelp.

"Shh... It's all right, Crowley, I've got you! Let yourself go..."

A muffled groan was his only response, and Aziraphale continued his caresses with increasing rhythm, feeling with delight the demon's entire body tense against him. Crowley made small movements with his hips to meet the angel's palm, which was working wonders masturbating the entire length of his penis. A new sensation crept into the pit of the demon's stomach, a sensation he didn't know, and which frightened him. He squirmed against the angel's body.

"What... What are you doing to me, angel?" he asked in a hoarse voice.
"I'm going to make you come, Crowley! It's an exquisite sensation, one that I'm sure will change the course of your existence in this mortal body! Trust me..."
"Ngk..." 

   
Crowley began to struggle weakly as the orgasm rose within him with gentle violence. Between erratic sighs and moans, he felt his cock pulsing in the angel's firm hand as he reached pleasure thanks to his caresses. Aziraphale's name echoed loudly off the marble walls before silence fell around the pool. Crowley's body went limp again and he collapsed against the angel, breathless.

"Well?" whispered the Principality.
"It was... It was..." murmured Crowley, slowly getting to his feet.
"Yes. I know! Intense..."
"Do you want... Do you want me to do the same to you?"
"Oh... I was thinking more... Well, if you don't mind, I was thinking of doing it myself, rubbing myself against your bum…” admitted the angel, his cheeks pinker than ever.
"Why against my bum?"
 

The angel smiled indulgently.

"I still have a lot to teach you that I myself learned from the Romans..."
"I can't wait for you to show me all that, angel!"
"I dreamed of hearing you say that, my dear! Fortunately, we have a little time ahead of us! The fall of the Empire is not expected for another four hundred and thirty-five years, according to Gabriel…”

1. warm bath 

Chapter Text

IK D17 + D26: Voyeurism / Omegaverse

The knot twist

God and Satan had played a clever trick on them!

To amuse themselves, they had sent them back to Earth, but with one small change. An important detail through... Until their final rebellion, Aziraphale and Crowley had always walked the Earth in neutral corporations, their celestial status unable to be reduced to one of the three human hierarchical genders added to their birth gender: Alpha, Beta or Omega.

So for more than six thousand years, they had watched humans struggle with their hormones with varying degrees of curiosity, but without ever envying them! While they were not immune to feelings and desire, they had been spared everything else: the weight of responsibility inherent in some, the risks incurred by others... They suffered enough from their divine or infernal hierarchy for their liking!

But now, after yet another act of insolence that had cancelled the Second Coming, they had been sent back to London, wings gone, but with an extra gender... 

Crowley woke up in his Mayfair flat with a raging fever and hellish pains. His mind completely saturated with hormones, he had only one thing on his mind: finding a male to relieve him! He masturbated six times before he could stand up and make his way to the bookshop. He figured that the angel would surely know what to do to reverse this curse, and if not, Aziraphale had the necessary equipment between his legs to fill the void he felt... Another one of Hastur's tricks, he thought angrily, materializing in the cosy interior of the bookshop. 

Except that instead of being greeted by the usual comforting smell of hot chocolate, he was greeted by a powerful, animalistic scent that made him lose all his composure! The source of this smell, whatever it was, caused a surprising reaction in his body, and he felt a warm, viscous liquid running down his thighs as his pain intensified. 

Aziraphale then rushed down the stairs, nose in the air, his blond curls matted with sweat, and ran up to him. 

"Is... Is that you who smells like that?" he asked without preamble in a hoarse voice, burying his nose in his red locks, then on his neck, which he began to lick feverishly.  

"Like... Like what?" stammered Crowley, intoxicated by Aziraphale's fragrance, his lower abdomen in turmoil. 

"You smell so good..." growled the angel, running his hands over the demon's feverish body.   

They made love. Some would say they mated like... Like... Like humans! 

The furniture had been overturned, the curtains torn down. The slatted base of Aziraphale's bed had not survived and the pillows had been ripped open, scattering their fluffy contents into Crowley's hair, who had never screamed so much, even in Hell...        

The demon's heat had lasted seven days, since that was God's favourite number. On the morning of the eighth day, ashamed and exhausted, Aziraphale and Crowley had discussed the matter over coffee and tea and had finally come to understand that they had become Alpha and Omega. 

Willy-nilly, they began to live according to their cycles—rut for Aziraphale, heat for Crowley—and it quickly became apparent that the demon could no longer live alone in Mayfair. Not only because the landlord refused to rent to Omegas, but also because it had become dangerous for him to walk the streets of London alone, unmarked.

No one remembered who had come up with the stupid idea of marking... Be that as it may, that was how things had worked on Earth ever since Eve—the first Omega—had bitten into the apple! A divine punishment, orchestrated by one of Her archangels, no doubt, which the Omegas had had to bear on their frail shoulders ever since. 

If Crowley had blamed himself at the time for tempting Eve, now he regretted it more than ever! Omegas were at the bottom of the hierarchical ladder and had to submit to everyone, especially Alphas, and could only unite with them.  

Nevertheless, although Aziraphale and Crowley had confessed their love for each other long before this unexpected punishment, the happiness they felt in each other's presence had taken on a visceral as well as emotional dimension. For this was how God had intended it to be: Alphas and Omegas were completely aligned, able to feel each other's emotions as well as their sexual needs! Aziraphale had even secretly wondered if this punishment was really a punishment at all, because his dearest wish had come true: he now shared Crowley's life. Not to mention sex... 

True to his rebellious nature, Crowley tended to provoke the Alphas he encountered on the street, who never failed to make advances or behave inappropriately towards him! Aziraphale and he had not yet discussed the possibility of marking him. It seemed barbaric from the bookseller's point of view, even though he felt a visceral need to bite Crowley to claim him. Sometimes, the mere thought of sinking his fangs into his marking gland, in the hollow of his neck covered with freckles, from which his pheromones emanated, gave him an erection he couldn't contain! He would then masturbate in a garment belonging to the demon, letting out feverish grunts in the back room of the bookshop. Fortunately for him, humans were extremely tolerant of the sexual excesses of Alphas, so his customers took no offence.  

Crowley, however, was less tolerant when he retrieved his shirts or turtlenecks covered in the angel's thick semen. Aziraphale, in his defence, pointed out that Crowley regularly borrowed his own clothes – as well as his tartan blankets – to make his nest and rub all parts of his body on them...  

On this autumn evening, while the angel was away attending a lecture on modern literature at University College London, Crowley was minding the bookshop alone. Customers were few and far between, as was often, and the demon had spent most of the afternoon scrolling through his phone. He had ordered an extravagant number of collars from OmegaStore. Since he had almost been marked the week before, while leaving Maggie's record shop, he had decided to buy these thick leather collars, which Omegas wore to protect their marking glands. 

There was no way he could be marked by any Alpha other than Aziraphale, let alone a pastor. The clergyman had taken a knee to the groin, but without Maggie's help, the demon would never have been able to escape the Alpha's iron grip, and none of the passers-by had reacted. It was rare for anyone to oppose an Alpha in rut, and no one cared about the physical integrity of an Omega... 

Crowley had returned to the bookshop dishevelled and trembling. He had collapsed in tears into the bookseller's arms, cursing himself for appearing so weak, but the fact was that he could not fight his new nature and his unpredictable hormonal swings... Aziraphale had also been unable to fight his instincts, and after comforting Crowley, he had left the bookshop, surrounded by pheromones of rage. Crowley hadn't seen the pastor on the streets of Soho since, but he didn't want to take any chances. It seemed too much like a dirty trick by God: to have him marked by another Alpha than the angel...

The demon took the threat seriously and put about fifteen collars in his basket. Once the order had been confirmed and paid for with the angel's credit card—Crowley wasn't allowed to have one—the bookshop door opened and he stirred with difficulty:

"Haven't you seen the opening hours? They're written on the door: the bookshop is closed because I decided so! That is, for a good half hour…” 

"You'll make an exception for an old friend," replied a drawling male voice from the entrance. 

"Furfur?" exclaimed Crowley, jumping up from the sofa, recognising the intruder's voice. 

In a few strides, he was already face to face with the demon of Requisitions, who was looking him up and down with an amused expression. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" 

"I asked the Master's permission to come and see how you were getting on with this new... condition," he added, visibly pleased, placing his hands on his hips. "Not so cocky now, are you? It seems you've finally stopped being treated with privileges! In the end, your status as a former Seraphim didn't protect you forever..."  

"What are you complaining about? You might finally get a promotion…” retorted Crowley, with a smirk.  

“You're not so far off the mark,” Furfur puffed himself up. “You have before you the new plenipotentiary representative of Hell on Earth!” 

“So, going under Shax's desk has finally paid off,” Crowley scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I spent less time there than you did under the Supreme Archangel’s one," Furfur defended himself, raising his bushy eyebrows. 

"Former Supreme Archangel..." 

"Oh yes! I forgot... He too was reduced to an uncontrollable mass of hormones! How funny... It must be said that this is the first idea on which the Master and She have managed to agree since the Fall, and it's a real success! If I understood correctly, the horny pastor crossed your path by chance, cleverly orchestrated by Hastur, by the way... What a funny guy, that Hastur,” he added affectionately.  

“Fuck off, Furfur! I'm not walking you back, you must know the way to Mayfair by now…” 

“I was wondering if…” Furfur began, moving closer languidly. “Now that your free will boils down to being properly filled, and the Supreme Archangel minus a quarter isn't available... Maybe you could walk me back, sunshine... The king-size bed in the flat is just waiting for us to warm up its sheets,” continued the demon, casually caressing Crowley's cheek. 

Furfur was still a celestial being, so he did not give off any pheromones that might interfere with Crowley's reactions. The new representative of Hell on Earth therefore received a resounding slap.

"Ooooh... Still as fiery as ever, I see?" Furfur said amusedly, rubbing his bruised cheek. “In bed too, I hope…”

"In bed especially," exclaimed a deep voice behind him.

Furfur spun around to find himself face to face with Aziraphale, who glanced briefly at Crowley to make sure he wasn't hurt.

"Aziraphalbala!" growled Furfur. "I wasn't expecting you so... early!"

"Fortunately for Crowley and unfortunately for you, I can sense all his emotions, and his disgust and hatred for you reached me from the café where I stopped to chat with Nina and Maggie, our neighbours and friends." 

"Unfortunately for you both and fortunately for me, neither of you is in a position to chase me out of this former Embassy of Heaven!" boasted Furfur, looking them up and down in turn. 

"Indeed," replied the bookseller in an even voice, calmly placing his cardigan on the back of his armchair. 

Crowley could easily sense the Alpha's pheromones: anger and... sexual arousal. Immediately, the Omega tuned into Aziraphale's mood and felt desire rising within him, completely ignoring the demon's presence. The Alpha approached him to embrace and kiss him tenderly, before turning to Furfur:

"I can't force you to leave, so you're welcome to stay and watch me make love to Crowley and possess him in a way you never could... Fulfilling his desire with my Alpha knot and coming inside him for at least half an hour while I lick his glans and who knows... Bite into it to claim him... If he wants me to…”

"Fuck, angel..." whispered Crowley against him, his legs weak.  

"I will cover him with my scent and we will belong to each other for eternity and no other male will be able to mate with him," continued Aziraphale, pulling the Omega close to him and kissing his hair. 

"Do it, Aziraphale! Take me and mark me," Crowley begged, running his hand over the bookseller's crotch, compressed in his beige trousers.  

"Are you sure, my nightingale?" 

Crowley abruptly turned his face towards Furfur:

"You should get out of here, it's going to get dirty!" 

The demon did nothing. 

Overwhelmed by the sexual tension that had filled the room, he watched silently as the two men undressed and couldn't help but let out a muffled cry when the bookseller freed his Alpha cock from his tartan boxer shorts. Already erect as he gazed in wonder at the Omega's body, his large penis was topped by a knot which, although not yet swollen, already showed its imposing size. 

Ignoring the intruder's insistence, Crowley, obsessed with the angel's excitement, gracefully dropped to his knees and lifted his face to plunge his saffron irises into the Alpha's burning gaze. 

"I can feel your desire to take me, angel, but let me take you first! I've been dreaming about it all day..." 

"Who am I to deny you that pleasure?" replied the angel, stroking the Omega's auburn hair as he leaned down to run his tongue over his testicles and knot, never taking his eyes off him. 

Aziraphale couldn't help but let out a deep sigh and tilted his head back briefly before diving back into his gaze:

"Put it all in your mouth," he whispered lasciviously. 

Crowley complied willingly and managed to slip the angel's testicles into his greedy mouth, before releasing them, leaving a trail of saliva dripping onto his chest, covered in fine red hair. He then moved down to the Alpha's swollen cock, which emitted a low growl. As Crowley writhed with excitement, sucking the entire length of his large penis, Aziraphale accompanied his movements with a hand plunged into his hair. He then looked at Furfur with a satisfied smile:

"Crowley knows how to suck like no one else, doesn't he? That's what Omegas do best..." 

In response, Furfur let out a muffled moan and slipped a hand into his trousers to caress himself.

"We have a guest, Crowley, don't forget. Your former colleague is dreaming of being in my place right now... Show him how much you love your new condition and how you know how to give pleasure to a man!” Aziraphale encouraged him mischievously. 

Immediately, the Omega let out a joyful groan and began to push the angel's cock deep into his throat. As his nose buried itself in the Alpha's white curls of pubic hair, he gagged and two tears ran down his cheeks, leaving two black trails from his mascara. His legs trembling, the Alpha tore his gaze away from the sight to watch Furfur, who was masturbating frantically by now.

"Look how Crowley chokes on my cock like he'll never choke on yours! You're putting on quite a show, my nightingale," he added tenderly to the Omega. "It's time to give you your reward! You're so wet you're soiling my carpet, Crowley! Get up so I can fuck you like you deserve…” 

"Aziraphale..." moaned the Omega as the angel withdrew from his mouth. 

"I know, my love, I know..." consoled the angel, helping him up and pressing him tenderly against his desk.

He ran his fingers inside the Omega's thighs and gathered his wetness, which he licked greedily.

"You're so horny," he observed. "Always ready to take my cock... You're wonderful, Crowley," he added, pushing a finger into his soaked intimacy. 

"Ngk..." Crowley sighed feverishly, leaning forward over the angel's books.

"Look closely at that ass, which you will never possess," growled Aziraphale, observing Furfur.

He then thrust himself deep into Crowley's intimacy, who let out an unrestrained cry of pleasure. Surrendering to the fire burning in his lower abdomen, the Alpha began a series of sulphurous thrusts, punctuated by grunts and lascivious sighs, which added to the wet, obscene sounds of his body mingling with Crowley's.   

Feeling the Omega approaching orgasm, Aziraphale reached a hand down to masturbate him, while his knot swelled, blocking him inside his lover. 

Their bodies trembling, Aziraphale momentarily forgot Furfur's presence and enveloped the Omega in pheromones of love and comfort, before leaning down to whisper in his ear: 

"Do you want to be mine?" 

"Of course I do! Hurry up, mark me and make me come, Alphaziraphale!”

With a satisfaction growl, Aziraphale waited for Crowley's orgasm and finally allowed himself to come, sinking his fangs into the Omega's marking gland! Crowley let out a howl as a trickle of blood ran down the hollow of his neck before collapsing onto the angel's desk. Aziraphale stroked his back and helped him to stand up so he could accompany him to the floor, still locked inside him. Lying breathless, their panting bodies resting on the fluffy carpet, they found themselves spooning, the angel behind the Omega, facing Furfur. The demon had also come, it seemed, and was clumsily tucking his cock into his trousers, slightly dishevelled and leaning against one of the columns. 

Exhausted and haggard with pleasure at finally having marked Crowley, the angel nevertheless managed to hoist himself up on one elbow to stare at Furfur with a mischievous look:

"See how he belongs to me now, how he will never belong to you! Have you seen enough? You can report back to your lot how happy we are with our new conditions, and don't forget to tell them that we've adapted brilliantly!” 

As Furfur attempted to stand up with dignity to leave the bookshop, Aziraphale called out to him one last time, while stroking the hair of Crowley, who had fallen asleep:

"If it's any consolation, we gave Metatron much the same demonstration last week..."  

"You... You're nothing but animals," stammered the demon, pointing alternately at Aziraphale and Crowley.

"Humans," corrected the angel in his baritone voice, lying back down behind the Omega to embrace him lovingly.   

Author's note : See you soon for D22 with a little surprise (a collab with my dear friend KaitasBaccus)

Chapter Text

IK D22: Sadism/masochism

Autumn pleasures

There weren't many people at "Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death" on that rainy late afternoon. The summer holidays were already a distant memory and the All Saints' Day holidays, although approaching, were still a long way off, so the working population was stuck in a daily routine whose monotony was accentuated by the gloomy London weather. A few mothers lingered at the counter or at a table, delaying the moment when picking up their children would plunge them into their second day of work. Two employees of Mrs Sandwich's, meanwhile, warmed their hands around their cups of latte before returning to face the biting autumn wind to lure in customers.  

Choices had been made, and all these women were bravely embracing them. This was what Nina and Maggie often repeated when they took five minutes to sit down with Aziraphale and Crowley, whenever they stopped for a "coffee break". Nonsense for the angel, an understatement for the demon...    

Nina's employee, Terry, was minding the till given the small number of customers, leaving his boss and her partner free to share a drink with their friends. The lounge was fairly quiet, a comfortable silence had settled among the guests, broken only by the sound of spoons stirring sugar in cups: white tea for Aziraphale, a "six for the bitch" as Nina affectionately called Crowley's drink, a pumpkin spice latte for Maggie and a vienna coffee for the boss.

The angel, immersed in the Celestial Observer (he hadn't thought to cancel the subscription), suddenly felt Crowley crush his foot under the table, forcing him to look away from the Archangelic Column.

"What on earth is the matter with you?"

"Nina is talking to you!" 

"Oh... What is it, my dear?" said the angel, folding up his newspaper. 

"I was wondering how your decorations were coming along?" 

"They're tickety-boo!" replied Aziraphale proudly. "You and Maggie will have to come and see for yourselves! Crowley helped me, he did a wonderful job..."

"No surprise there, I did all the work!" retorted the demon ironically.

"That's not true!" protested the bookseller indignantly, his voice rising.

"Oh, come on! All you did was sit in your armchair and give orders!" 

"You refused to come with me, remember. It was the least you could do!” 

"It's your bookshop, angel..." 

"But we both get plenty of use out of it! Every corner of it..." added the angel, his voice full of innuendo. 

"Right, can you two stop bickering like an old married couple?" interrupted Nina, leafing through the newspaper. "Are there really cricket tournaments in Heaven?"

"The Seraphim are the best," replied the demon casually. 

"Probably because we tell them exactly what to do," added Aziraphale, staring at Crowley. 

"The Seraphim don't need advice, let alone orders!" 

"Even the Seraphim must submit to the Supreme Archangel!" 

"The Supreme Archangel is no longer in office, he deserted, I remind you!" 

"Anyone want some eccles cake?" Maggie suddenly asked in her high-pitched voice. "The sexual tension between you two is a bit intense," she apologised, tilting her head on her latte. 

"What sexual tension?" Crowley asked, surprised.

Nina choked on her mug, laughing:

"Are you kidding me? If you didn't have an audience, you'd already be fucking like animals on my table! It's always the same thing…” 

"No... Not at all..." the angel protested, wiping his lips with a paper napkin to compose himself.     

"Of course! It's fine, I was just asking if the decorations were up..." Nina explained, while Maggie posed one hand on hers.  

"Actually, there's still a garland of autumn-coloured flags to put up," said Aziraphale, with a pointed glance at the demon. "After a certain person used rude words to tell me he was fed up, the garland remained in its packaging!" 

"You know where you can stick it?" 

Nina clapped her hands excitedly:

"I know, I know!" she sneered.

"Nina, dear," Maggie scolded her.

"Your insolence is beyond limit, my dear..." Aziraphale growled, his eyes sparkling. 

"What are you going to do to me? Make me carve pumpkins to put on the front steps?" Crowley challenged, lowering his sunglasses slightly to stare defiantly at him.

Aziraphale took a deep breath, then looked at Maggie and Nina:

"Thank you for the little break, but we obviously still have a lot of work to do at the bookshop! Why don't you come over for dinner tonight? What do you think?”

"We'd love to," Maggie replied cheerfully.

"Not too early, though," Crowley specified, jumping to his feet.

"You'll clean up before we get there! We don't want to get pregnant just by sitting on your sofa…” grumbled Nina, starting to clear away the mugs. 

"I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die, if I'm lying..."

"You'll get my hand in your face, Crowley!" interrupted Nina, looking disillusioned. 

Crowley walked in the bookshop first and placed his glasses on the counter with a swaying gait, while the angel carefully closed the door behind them and locked it with a turn of the key.

"Do you really want to finish decorating, angel?" asked the demon, turning around to look at the bookseller with a mischievous look.

"You mentioned the idea of carving pumpkins as penance for your insolence, if I remember correctly..."  

"Except you didn't buy any pumpkins!" replied the demon mockingly. 

"Indeed... So I'll have to punish you in another way..." declared Aziraphale in a grave voice. 

"You're turning me on, angel!" whispered Crowley, moving closer to him and caressing the collar of his cardigan. 

"Mhmmm... Is it the prospect of finishing the autumn decorations that's turning you on, or the prospect of being punished for your bad behaviour? Because I can always conjure up a dozen pumpkins and watch you carve them all night long..." 

"Don't you have anything more... physical as a punishment?" whispered the demon in his ear. "I'd quite like to bear the mark of your displeasure for a few days..." 

"Oh... You'd like the pain to remind you of my displeasure all evening, when our friends are here?" 

"Every time I try to sit down, for example..." replied Crowley, reaching for the angel's belt to undo it.

Aziraphale placed his hands on his wrists to stop him:

"I have a better idea, but first... You're wearing far too many clothes!" 

The angel moved away to sit on the sofa, where he unbuttoned his thick cardigan, spreading his legs provocatively:

"Undress yourself!"

"You're so sexy like that..."

The angel raised an eyebrow: 

"You'll speak when I allow you to, you insolent little thing!" 

"Ngk..."

As night fell on Whickber Street, Crowley began to undress by the light of the street lamps, whose timid glow filtered through the lattice windows. The curtain of rain that accompanied the closing of the offices hastened the pace of the last workers to swap the slippery pavements for the comfort of their cars or the welcome shelter of public transport. The street emptied in favour of one of its shops:  The Dirty Donkey, where a few regulars - mostly single - gathered for a friendly after-work drink. 

Only the sound of water against the windows and a few distant car horns disturbed the tranquillity of the bookshop, where the rustling of clothes thrown on the floor mingled with the angel's grunts of satisfaction. 

"Good," said Aziraphale calmly, once Crowley was completely naked in front of him. “Your skin is of those that read like a poem, to be kissed and caressed, as so many commas or suspension points,” he whispered, admiring the demon.   

"Nice... Yet I thought it was something other than kisses and caresses you wanted to leave on my skin..." added Crowley, moving slowly closer to sit on the angel's lap and wrap his arms around his neck. 

After a passionate kiss, Crowley began to undo the bookseller's tartan bow tie, but was stopped by the angel's firm hands:

"Don't try to tempt me with your enchanting lips! I will leave the mark of my wrath on your skin. I will scar it like one scratches out a poem to magnify it, my nightingale... Pick up your belt! Oh, and give me the garland, will you?”

The demon let out a feverish groan as he got up to pick up his snakeskin belt, wrapped around his super-skinny jeans. He then held it out to Aziraphale, before changing his mind and clutching it to his chest: 

"What if I run away?" he asked temptingly. 

"I'll catch you and whip you with the buckle!" 

"Ngk... I might like that, angel!" 

"Don't forget the garland!"

Crowley walked away to rummage through the angel's shopping bag. After a few curses, he finally found it and took it out of its packaging.

"What's the garland for?"

Aziraphale smiled at him amusedly, patting his thigh: 

"Don't keep me waiting, our guests will be here any minute! Lie down across my lap."

The demon hastened to jump onto the sofa and position himself as requested, his upper body to the angel's left so that the angel could use his dominant hand. Might as well do it properly... He then handed the garland to Aziraphale.

"I understand you love it when I tie you up, and this garland seems quite appropriate for your recent transgressions. Put your hands behind your back!"

Once again, the demon complied willingly, and Aziraphale tied his wrists behind his back, then caressed the skin of his buttocks affectionately.

"I'd like to wear you like a glove. Slip into you gently and firmly, filling every orifice…”

"Fuck, angel..." Crowley whispered, impressed. "Is it in Heaven that you learned to be so dangerously obscene? I love it! I want to be your glove! Slip into me! Use me!"

Clack.

His own belt had just come down hard on his buttocks. The delicious warmth immediately spread throughout his body, amplifying the desire rekindled by the angel's metaphors. It took a few more strokes for the delicate pattern of scales to be imprinted on his milky skin, forming a grid in the middle of which his freckles wandered. The cries that regularly escaped Crowley's mouth were not pleas for mercy, however, so the angel applied himself to wielding the belt until his arm ached.

"More! More, Aziraphale," protested Crowley, breathless. "I'm just beginning to feel your wrath... For an archangel, you tire quickly and..."

art by my dear friend KaitasBaccus

He was interrupted by the sensation of a wet finger sliding into his intimacy. He squirmed, but his movements were hampered both by the garland and by the angel's grip.   

"Ngk..."

"What were you saying, my dear?"

"More, more!"

"More what? Enlighten me, I'm confused," replied Aziraphale in an angelic voice.

"One more stroke, one more finger; whatever you want, just keep going!"

"Mhmmm... It's starting to sound like a prayer; I think that with two more fingers and three more strokes, you'll be sliding to your knees to repent for your insolence!”

Crowley was about to reply when a noise from the window made them jump. Leaning out of the window, a hat pulled down over her head, Nina was trying to see inside the bookshop. The sound of her voice, muffled by the wall, reached them clearly.

"Open up, you animals! We're freezing out here and Maggie's made cake for dessert... You've cleaned up after yourselves, I hope?"

"Oops..."

"You... You're not going to leave me like this, are you, Aziraphale? They can wait another five minutes! Finish what you started,” Crowley begged, abandoning all restraint. 

"Mhmmm... I think I've fulfilled my part of the bargain. You should remember my wrath every time you try to sit down! As for the rest... You'll have to wait until the end of the evening, I'm afraid..." 

"What if I stopped time? I'm going to stop time!” declared the demon, with new determination, wriggling on Aziraphale's thighs. “Untie me!” 

"That would break the spell! We're going to have dinner with our friends, and if you're good and put up my garland without complaining, I'll find something else to tie you up with later..."

"You'll have to make me come twice!"

"You're in no position to negotiate, my dear..." 

"Yeah? And what would be the right position to negotiate?" 

"I'll think about it when I'm in your mouth," replied the angel, leaning down to kiss his bruised bottom.

"No doubt about it... You've got what it takes to be a leader, at least in that respect, Metatron was right..."  

Chapter Text

IK D27: Overstimulation

The hardest part is behind you

October was coming to an end and, judging by the weather, a rather harsh winter was on the way! The pouring rain had given way to a bitter cold, perfect for long naps for Crowley, who, in his animal or human form, allowed himself several hours of sleep a day. Lulled by the soft rustling of book pages and the angel's footsteps as he got up to make himself a hot chocolate - tenderly stroking the demon's head as he passed - he dreamed of his new life. 

And sometimes, of sex!

As the day drew to a close outside, the demon awoke after a long nap that had lasted all afternoon. His loud yawn woke the angel from his torpor.

"Well? Are you finally awake?"

"Nah! I've been awake for a long time," Crowley lied, unconvincingly.

"Really? So you were conscious when you begged Furfur to fill your mouth while, and I quote, 'my angel takes me'?" 

"Ngk... Don't know what you're talking about, angel!" replied the demon, trying to make the erection that was still distorting his tight jeans disappear.

Aziraphale froze when he reached the sofa, his hands on his hips.

"What do I see? Still touching yourself?"

"Wh... What do you mean?" Crowley choked.

"You kept rubbing yourself against the sofa cushions and moaning, dear... A most delightful sight, I must say," added the bookseller in a velvety voice. 

"You... I... I wasn't responsible of my actions! I was asleep!” Crowley protested, jumping to his feet. 

"Certainly..." conceded the angel, sympathetically, as he grabbed a ring from one of his desk drawers. 

"What's that?"

"Do you remember that demonic ring that belonged to the zombies?" 

"Er..." 

"They used it to summon that dear demon of Requisitions in 1941..."

"What... what are you planning to do with it?" stammered Crowley.

In response, Aziraphale slipped the ring onto his finger with a smile and activated the jewel, turning the stone in its setting. 

"Bloody hell, Aziraphale!" cried Crowley in alarm. 

Immediately, Furfur, recently appointed as the new Plenipotentiary Representative of Hell on Earth by Shax, the new Lord of Hell, materialized in the bookshop, in a green-grey mist. Draped in a green and silver satin dressing gown, a look of astonishment plastered on his fine features, he stared alternately at Aziraphale and Crowley.

"What on earth is your problem?" 

"Good evening, my dear Furfur," the angel greeted him affably, sitting down on the sofa next to a stunned Crowley. "Please, take a seat!" 

"What are you two up to now?" Furfur asked suspiciously, looking around him. "Where's your new version of Jesus?" 

"Asleep!" 

"If you've summoned me to babysit him like last time because your friends from the café have let you down and the brothel owner has refused, I'm warning you right now..." Furfur snapped, pointing an accusing finger at the couple. 

"Not at all, my dear Furfur, don't worry!" interrupted Aziraphale, raising a hand. "He's sleeping at a friend's house tonight!" 

"So what? Is it to hold the camera while you fuck like dogs so I can take the recording down to Metatron's cell?" sighed the Representative of Hell. 

"No, no! This time we need you for something serious," declared Aziraphale.

"Oh... Well, go on, I don't have all evening!" 

"It turns out that my husband had some inappropriate thoughts about you in his sleep..." 

"Inappropriate... thoughts?" repeated Furfur, staring greedily at Crowley. 

"Ngk..."

"Absolutely! Impure thoughts, which I must fulfil, as a husband devoted to his pleasure," added the angel, stroking Crowley's knee.

"Go on..." encouraged Furfur, with a flick of his wrist. 

"I think Crowley has a secret fantasy," explained Aziraphale, motioning for the demon to take a seat on the small sofa. 

Furfur complied, intrigued, and sat down next to Crowley, who seemed nervous between the two other men.

"Tell me more, sunshine," encouraged Furfur in a smooth voice, placing a delicate hand on Crowley's other knee. 

"I... Ngk... just had an erotic dream, it's no big deal!"

"Yes, it is! It is a big deal, don't you think, my nightingale? You, me and dear Furfur... So many possibilities..." replied Aziraphale, with a small smile directed at the two demons. 

Furfur suddenly looked embarrassed:

"The thing is... I'm not supposed to... fraternize with you two! My orders are strict on that point..."  

"Don't worry, my dear! This place is no longer an Embassy of Heaven! What happens here remains at our discretion," explained Aziraphale, leaning over Crowley's neck to plant a burning kiss on it.

"Ngk..."

Furfur seemed reassured:

"Oh! In that case..." 

With an elegant gesture, he pulled apart the sides of his dressing gown, which slid limply over his chest and thighs, revealing a large sex, the beginnings of an erection emerging from his pubic hair like a most convincing promise. 

Crowley's curious gaze lingered on it, while the angel continued to caress the hollow of his neck with his mouth, leaving more and more love marks. Furfur, after a brief hesitation, leaned over Crowley and made his clothes disappear with a snap of his fingers. 

"You'll be more comfortable, my beautiful star," he whispered in her ear, before nibbling on her earlobe. 

"Ngk... Furfur... A... Aziraphale..." stammered Crowley, running his hands through the hair of the angel - whose clothes had just evaporated - and the demon. 

As he intertwined his long fingers with the blond curls on one side and the disciplined grey strands on the other, he felt a hand caressing his cock. Mechanically, he spread his thighs and tilted his head forward. Furfur had abandoned his ear and was now eagerly licking his left nipple, while caressing his penis and testicles. With every part of his body now being stimulated, Crowley realized that he was in danger of coming far too quickly! So he shook himself and gently freed himself from his partners' greedy mouths. 

"Where are you going, my nightingale?" asked the angel, as Crowley slid to the floor in front of the sofa. 

"Not far, my angel!"

Furfur moved closer to sit in Crowley's place, letting his dressing gown fall as lasciviously as he did, as he settled down right next to the bookseller, his gaze fixed on the red hair of his former colleague, who knelt religiously between the angel's thighs. Furfur's knee brushed against Aziraphale's just as Crowley's hand rested on it, and the Representative of Hell on Earth felt himself transported to Seventh Heaven. Abandoning all reserve, he sighed deeply as he watched the angel enter Crowley's mouth with infinite gentleness, his eyes fixed on his lover's amber irises. He reached a hesitant hand into the fiery hair and began to caress it along with his manhood, smiling at Crowley, who finally gave him his attention. 

"You're even more beautiful like this, Crowley!" he whispered, accompanying the demon's head movements with his hand.

Aziraphale had momentarily tilted his head back, and Furfur abandoned Crowley's red locks to reach out his hand towards the angel's jaw, tracing it with his long fingers, demanding his attention. Without a word, his face contorted in a grimace of pleasure, Aziraphale watched Furfur's lips, claiming what would be his for one night. Sealing the promise of an evening of lust, their tongues intertwined passionately while Crowley's moved slowly along the angel's hardened shaft. 

"Your lips are divine, Supreme Archangel..." Furfur finally managed to say, breathless.

"Former Supreme Archangel," corrected Aziraphale. "Crowley? We have a guest, my love," he added sensually.

Crowley obediently pulled his head back, releasing the angel's cock, but, already regretting the weight on his tongue, he moved on his knees to settle between Furfur's thighs. He stared intently at Aziraphale's face, who encouraged him with a smile, while placing a hand in his hair. Carefully, the angel stroked the entire length of Furfur's erect penis with his left hand, before grasping it at the base, while bringing Crowley's face closer with his right hand.

"We are being very rude, my nightingale! Honour the guests..." added Aziraphale, guiding Crowley's mouth to Furfur's glans.

With his fingers firmly closed around the flaming locks, he made sure to guide Furfur's erection into Crowley's throat:

"That's good, my love... Take it all... That's it… Good boy!”

Furfur let out a hoarse cry as Crowley's nose buried itself in his pubic hair, his cock sinking into his burning mouth. Breathless, he watched with delight as Aziraphale's fingers, clutching at his red locks, set the pace for Crowley, pulling back and then pushing his face forward so that Furfur's cock was completely out of his mouth before thrusting it back in again, all the way to the hilt. With ecstasy, he felt the angel's other hand slip under his dressing gown to caress his neck, before leaning over him to kiss him full on the mouth.

"Well, my dear Representative of Hell on Earth? What do you say to this little diplomatic visit?" asked the bookseller, releasing his lips. 

"Wh... Um… You do have a sense of hospitality after all..."

With a satisfied smile, the angel turned his attention back to Crowley, whose make-up had begun to run from the effort.

"It seems to me that something is still missing from your dream, my love..." Aziraphale finally whispered, caressing the demon's face tenderly.   

The angel snorted and leaned forward to encourage Crowley to stop, and as Crowley released Furfur's cock, Aziraphale took his mouth to kiss him, giving him no respite, while Furfur caressed his back languidly. After this passionate kiss, Aziraphale rose from the small sofa, walked around Crowley, and knelt behind him on his Persian rug. Turning his face over his shoulder, Crowley watched him smile at him while caressing his back and buttocks. Without warning, the angel then dove between his buttocks to lick his intimacy, while sliding a hand under his slender hip to masturbate his aching cock. 

"Fuck, angel!" cried the demon, tensing up. 

"Yes?" replied Aziraphale innocently, raising his head to slide a finger in place of his tongue into the demon's welcoming slit. 

“Ngk…” 

Aziraphale then removed his finger and repositioned himself correctly behind Crowley, before rubbing his glans against his anus. 

“Our guest, my love!” Aziraphale reprimanded him, in an indulgent voice. 

Furfur leaned down to kiss Crowley full on the mouth, nibbling his lower lip as he did so.

"It's so good to see you like this! Do you like it?" he whispered in his ear. 

"Keep fucking me, I'll answer you later!" Crowley breathed, before moaning as he felt the angel sink into him inch by inch.  

"As you wish, my beautiful star!" replied Furfur, grasping a handful of auburn hair firmly but gently in his hand. 

He used it to guide Crowley's mouth to his cock and penetrated him in unison with Aziraphale, rocking his hips to meet the delicate lips of his former colleague, just as the angel rocked his hips against his ass. As Furfur withdrew and wiped a tear from Crowley's cheek, Crowley let out a soft sob: 

"I... I can't… ‘s too much" 

Aziraphale then slowed the punishing pace of his thrusts and released his hips, which he had been clinging to tightly, to lean over Crowley's back and stroke his hair:

"Yes, you can, my love! Be a good boy for us, I know you can… You can take the two of us" he encouraged him, planting a series of kisses on his back. 

"Yes... Yes, n’gel…’m a good boy!" replied Crowley, grabbing Furfur's cock at the base and putting it back in his mouth.

"Good..." praised Aziraphale, sitting up.

"You're so good to us, Crowley," added Furfur, running a hand through his flaming hair. "You're going to make me cum so hard," he added in a strangled voice.

Watching Furfur's body tense on the sofa and clinging to Crowley's hair as he fucked his mouth eagerly, Aziraphale resumed a punishing rhythm and manoeuvred Crowley's hips to thrust into him vigorously.  The demon let out muffled moans of pleasure as his body was used in every way imaginable, just like in his wildest fantasies. Soon, he felt Furfur's cock pulsing in his mouth, spilling onto his tongue as he let out an animalistic cry, staring at the angel who was emptying himself into his ass in unison. 

No sooner had he finished swallowing his seed than Furfur leaned down to kiss him again and taste himself on his tongue, while the angel released his bruised hips to withdraw in turn. He revelled for a moment in the sight of his overflowing semen escaping from Crowley's anus and dripping softly onto his balls, then got up to sit back down on the sofa. 

When Furfur ended his kiss with Crowley, Aziraphale seized the lips of the Representative of Hell to kiss him in turn, sighing contentedly as he tasted him on his tongue. Furfur had put one arm around the bookseller's back and one hand in his blond curls, abandoning himself to the kiss while the angel absent-mindedly caressed his penis. When they ended their kiss, they turned their faces towards Crowley, who was obediently kneeling at their feet, watching them while masturbating. 

"It seems to me that someone in this room hasn't cum yet, has he, my dear Furfur?" asked the angel, caressing Crowley's face, who kissed the palm of his hand as he passed. 

"Indeed, my dear! It's time to remedy that..."

They rose from the sofa and helped Crowley settle comfortably on it, before spreading his thighs and sliding down to the floor. One after the other, they began to eagerly suck his cock and lick his balls, while sliding fingers into his anus to massage his prostate. With his arms stretched out on the back of the sofa, Crowley panted and moaned under the care of his partners. When he cum in turn - in Aziraphale's mouth - the latter immediately kissed Furfur, and Crowley's semen dripped from their mouths, running down their throats and spreading over their chests, amidst their salt-and-pepper hair. 

Dizzy with pleasure, Crowley then watched them sit up and sit on either side of him, before kissing him in turn, then sharing a feverish kiss between the three of them, while he reached a hand to their cocks, which were hardening again.

"I... I was wondering if your hospitality could continue until morning… It's cold outside," stammered Furfur, panting.

"Who are we to refuse you that? The bookshop is large, as is our bed, we have room to accommodate you! I was thinking that a nice bath wouldn't hurt us, what do you say, my dear demons?"

"That the bathtub isn't big enough, angel..."

"Never mind! A little miracle and it will be! We could make love again while sipping a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape..."

"You've convinced me," whispered Furfur, before giving Crowley a hickey on his neck, who began to moan unrestrainedly. 

"Ngk... Okay... Let's go for a threesome bath..."  

Chapter Text

D28: Come marking

Supreme dream

Aziraphale had left. After one last glance back – indecipherable – he had stepped into the lift and left.

The rejection was impossible for Crowley to deal with! That damn angel, a bit clumsy and always in his own world, which boiled down to his bookshop, his hot chocolate, his crates of wine and him, occupied all his thoughts. Anger had turned to sadness, sadness to fantasy... Every time he managed to doze off, which was usually after a good binge, the demon dreamed of Aziraphale, and tonight would be no exception. 

The floor littered with bottles of Talisker, Crowley staggered through the bookshop and lay down on the sofa, one hand slipped into his skinny jeans. Half asleep, his mind clouded by alcohol fumes, he had devised a scenario, more or less always the same... Prisoner of the angels, he was led, hands bound, before the Supreme Archangel.

Michael pointed at him with the tip of her spear, a satisfied smile stretching her thin lips:

"Come forward, demon! The Supreme Archangel has claimed your presence..." 

Resigned, Crowley walked forward with heavy steps. His bouncing gait had long since abandoned him. He crossed the vast, sterile corridors of Heaven without paying attention to the hateful glances of the angels and archangels, who moved out of his way with disgust.

Then came the moment of the almost divine apparition. Aziraphale, draped in white and lilac, materialised before him, his gaze sombre. Invested with the authority of God, he too looked down on him with contempt before nodding to Michael. He then approached with measured steps and, once in front of him, Michael struck Crowley on the back of the knees with her spear and the demon collapsed before the Supreme Archangel.

"Good," Aziraphale growled in a low voice as he unbuttoned his trousers. "You have no place here, demon, but at my feet, you are at least of some use!"

His violet irises shining with a lecherous gleam, the archangel freed his hardened member and held it by the base, pressing his swollen glans against the demon's lips.

"Open!" he ordered simply, in his baritone voice. 

The demon obeyed as always with eagerness, delighted to feel the weight of Aziraphale's manhood on his tongue and the thickness of his cock filling his mouth. As he feverishly sucked his glans, insisting on his frenulum, Crowley dared to raise his eyes to observe the archangel. He had changed. A short beard partially concealed his face, which no longer smiled. There was no longer any mischief in his gaze, now icy, when he looked back at him. An authoritative hand then clamped down on his hair, which the archangel grabbed roughly. 

“Who gave you permission to look at the Supreme Archangel? Stay in your place and do what you were brought here to do! The only thing that makes you useful,” Aziraphale added, pushing deeper into the demon's mouth, stopping only when the demon choked on his cock.

Accompanying the movement of his hips while holding his head, he began a series of relentless thrusts, masturbating frantically in his mouth. The demon struggled to keep up, between gags and tears, trying hard to give Aziraphale pleasure. Desperately seeking relief from the painful erection compressed by his jeans, he crawled at the angel's feet to rub himself against his impeccable leather shoes. He invariably heard the archangel's icy laughter in response to his muffled moans.

"What do I see?" he asked mockingly. "Do you really think I'm going to let you come, demon? Do you think you deserve it? Keep sucking with your sinful mouth, I'm almost there," he added, thrusting himself in as far as he could go, while spreading his leg.

Submissive to his will, Crowley let him use his mouth as he pleased, until he felt him pulsing on his tongue. But just as he began to swallow his salty seed, the archangel withdrew abruptly and came on his face with a groan. Crowley closed his eyes, savouring the sensation of Aziraphale's thick, sticky sap running down his skin to his neck, intoxicated by its slightly chlorinated smell. 

"You are mine, demon!"

Aziraphale's voice reached him with difficulty as the dream came to an end.

"Take him to his cell and bring him back to me in a few hours! You will place him under my desk so that he can relieve me during our meeting," added the archangel, somewhere in his troubled mind.  

Crowley then woke up and came in the palm of his hand, his face bathed in tears, not quite sure if they were real or not...       

Sorry for the Angst...

Chapter Text

IK D29: Sex to words

For this prompt, I wanted to write a poem by the hand of Aziraphale, in French – the language of love – which is why I gave our angel a little help... The English translation of the poem can be found just below! 

Candeur et décadence

En extase devant ta nudité,

Je te prête allégeance.

J’ai perdu toute volonté,

Je ne ferai vœu ni de chasteté, ni de pénitence.

Tu bois à mon calice

Mon épaisse semence,

Je me noie dans tes iris,

Apologie de l’indécence.

A genoux devant moi,

Ton corps en offrande,

Ma voix ne suffira pas

Pour conter tes légendes.

Créature éthérée

A la chevelure de feu,

Source du premier Péché,

Condamné par les Cieux. 

Tour à tour mâle, puis femelle,

Candeur et décadence,

Saint Graal du plaisir charnel,

Réceptacle de toutes mes déviances. 

Allongé face à moi,

A la merci de ma volonté,

Ton cul, préparé par mes doigts,

S’apprête à accueillir ma virilité. 

Encore parcouru de spasmes,

Je me repais de tes cris.

Echos de ton orgasme,

Ode à la sodomie. 

Nos ébats, mon empire,

Un horizon qui se dévoile.

Toute une vie à te faire jouir,

Mon bien-aimé faiseur d’étoiles. 

Here is a more or less literal translation of the poem, without the rhymes, I'm sorry 🥺

Candour and decadence

In ecstasy before your nakedness,

I pledge my allegiance to you.

I have lost all willpower,

I will make no vow of chastity or penance.

You drink from my chalice

My thick seed,

I drown in your irises,

Apology for indecency.

Kneeling before me,

Your body offered up,

My voice will not suffice

To recount your legends.

Ethereal creature

With hair of fire,

Source of the first Sin,

Condemned by the Heavens. 

Alternately male, then female,

Candour and decadence,

Holy Grail of carnal pleasure,

Receptacle of all my deviances. 

Lying before me,

At the mercy of my will,

Your ass, prepared by my fingers,

Is ready to welcome my manhood. 

Still racked with spasms,

I revel in your cries.

Echoes of your orgasm,

Ode to sodomy. 

Our lovemaking, my Empire,

A horizon that reveals itself.

A whole lifetime to make you cum,

My beloved Starmaker. 

Chapter Text

D31: Creator's choice

Happy Pornoween! 

It was the thirty-first of October. Halloween. Aziraphale was in a state! No sooner had he put up his autumn decorations than he had to add the Halloween ones... Crowley couldn't take it anymore. A whole month spent hanging garlands of all kinds: paper, fabric, LED... Nina and Maggie had added hanging ghosts, witches, bats and even fake spider webs to the café. So he had to do the same, because the bookseller didn't want to be left behind. Ever since Crowley and he had officially become the Guardians of Humanity, everything had to be done like humans, according to Aziraphale. As if they hadn't done enough already...

Perched on a stool, the demon was hanging yet another little ghost from the bookshop's chandelier. He could have used a demonic miracle, as he had suggested to Aziraphale, but the angel was adamant! In order to understand and help humanity as best they could, they now had to get as close as possible to their condition and therefore reserve miracles for exceptional circumstances. Or food...

"I'll give you bloody decorations, won't I! You can go ahead, it's not him who has to put them up! I'm going to end up falling flat on my face with his bloody stool,” grumbled Crowley. 

"Did you say something?" asked Aziraphale, coming down the stairs with a pile of books in his arms. 

"No, my love... I was just saying that we need a few more knick-knacks to hang up, don't you think?" added Crowley ironically. 

"Oh, I see you're finally getting into the spirit of things!" said the angel happily. "You're right, I'll buy some more on my way out..."

"No, but... That was a..." stammered the demon, nearly slipping off the stool. "Fuck! On your way out, you say? You're going out?"

"Yes, with all this, I still don't have a costume!" 

"With all this what, exactly? You've done nothing but give me orders and sip hot chocolate!" 

"I'm supervising, dear," corrected Aziraphale. "I won't be long, I already know what I'm going to dress up as," he added mischievously. 

"I'm coming with you!" 

"I don't think so. You still have half a box of decorations to put up, and you need to hurry! The children will be coming door to door soon. The poster from the Whickber Street shopkeepers said 'from 5 p.m.'. And Anathema, Newton and the Them are coming over for tea tomorrow, don't forget!” 

"What if I want to find a costume too?" asked Crowley, jumping gracefully off the stool and rubbing his hands together. 

"Don't be silly, you already have the most beautiful costume!" replied Aziraphale, taking the demon's left hand and kissing his wedding ring. "My husband!" 

"Ngk..." 

"I'll be back in an hour. Don't start handing them out without me!" added the angel, slamming the door behind him. 

Since when had Crowley, formerly demon of Temptation, formerly a Seraphim, become a stay-at-home husband? Since when had he allowed himself to be so easily led by the nose by a cherubim with blond curls who looked as innocent as a newborn baby? He wondered, emptying the last box of Halloween decorations. Since forever, replied the reasonable part of his mind, with the exasperating voice of God... Shaking his head to chase their Heavenly Mother from his brain, he resigned himself to putting batteries in a small lantern. 

"Which way do you put this crap in?" he grumbled, without managing to light the damn lantern. “Plus, minus... What? Light? Batteries? What the hell does that mean? Oh, screw it... Let there be light!” 

With a snap of his fingers, the lantern shone with a divine light that certainly did not come from the low-quality materials used to make it in some obscure Chinese workshop...

"It's much less annoying this way! Thank you, Mother..." he added in a sigh barely audible except to Her recipient.   

A few more frivolous miracles later, Crowley rubbed his hands together as he looked at the empty box.

"Well, that's it, it's done! What the angel doesn't know can't hurt him..."

Proud of himself, he continued his work by carving scary faces on the two large pumpkins brought back from their South Downs vegetable garden. He then placed LED candles inside them before placing them on the steps to frame the bookshop door.

"The kids will love this!"

With a sense of accomplishment, Crowley poured himself a generous glass of well-deserved Talisker, which he sipped while sprawled on the small leather sofa. As the alcohol began to take effect, he pulled the angel's tartan blanket over his long legs and kicked off his pair of python leather Louboutins. He had barely finished half the bottle when he heard the bookshop door open, setting off the little bell at the entrance. 

"Crowley? You... You had time to carve the pumpkins?" Aziraphale asked in surprise, approaching cautiously. 

"Don't you like them?"  

"I do... They're perfectly scary, but..." 

The angel glanced at the empty till, then at the decorations, impeccably hung here and there.

"You did all this in barely an hour? On top of finishing a bottle of whisky?" he asked doubtfully.

"Half a bottle," corrected the demon, trying to straighten up. 

"Would you take me for a cherub born yesterday, my dear?" 

"Did you find your costume?" Crowley skilfully sidestepped the question. 

"Oh, yes," replied the bookseller enthusiastically, lifting his shopping bag. 

"Show me!"

"I'll be right back," cried the angel, disappearing behind an overfilled bookshelf.

He soon returned, having swapped his beige cardigan for a long black cape with a large hood, lined with red. He smiled at him, revealing two prominent golden fangs: 

"I'm a vampire! I'm going to suck your blood," he added theatrically, twirling his cape.  

"I'd rather you sucked something else, angel!" 

"Crowley!" Aziraphale scolded him, his cheeks flushing. "This is a children's party!" 

"Let's get them out of here quickly, they'll get their sweets and I'll get my treat!" 

"I'm not sure you deserve it, my nightingale! I said no miracles, but you've used and abused them!" 

"Then use and abuse me, angel, I'm dying for it! I want you to ravage me Human Sexipede style (1)...” retorted Crowley, brutally pulling the blanket off his legs. 

“What on earth do you watch when I leave you alone?” worried Aziraphale, as there was a loud knock at the door.

Crowley looked at his watch:

"Seventeen minutes past five... These kids aren't late!"

"When it comes to sweets... In fact, I left them in the kitchen, damn it! You open the door, I'll go and get the sweets..."

"But..." the demon tried to object. 

But Aziraphale had already disappeared into the back room, so Crowley resolved to drag himself off the sofa. He grabbed his sunglasses, which had been left on the counter, and opened the door with a sharp jerk.

"TRICK OR TREAT!" shouted a small group of five children gathered in front of the bookshop.  

"Pumpkins are awesome! " exclaimed a boy of about ten, dressed as a devil. 

"Thank you!" replied Crowley with a sardonic smile. 

"What are you dressed as?" asked the devil, looking him up and down from his sunglasses to his socks, as Crowley hadn't put his shoes back on. 

"A demon! Well... a retired one," added Crowley, grimacing. 

"Pfff, you don't look like a demon at all..."

"And you don't look like a well-behaved child at all! How am I not like a demon, pray tell, Mr Expert?” 

"You don't have horns! Or a tail! And what have you done of your pitchfork?" 

"I left it in Hell! And yours is made of plastic, you wouldn't even hurt one of Lord Beelzebub's flies!" 

"Ahem," Aziraphale coughed behind the demon's back.  

Crowley stepped aside to let him approach the children with a huge bowl filled with all kinds of sweets. 

"Wow, a vampire!" 

Aziraphale gave the demon a triumphant smile, who rolled his eyes. 

"TRICK OR TREAT!" the little monsters bellowed again.

"And if we say tricks, what exactly will you do?" asked Crowley.

It was a valid question, but Aziraphale began handing out the sweets, not giving the children a chance to answer. 

"THANK YOU!" the children replied in unison, before walking away one by one to join their parents, who were waiting at a distance.

Only the little devil remained, and Aziraphale finished filling his little basket.

"You're better dressed up than he is!" he commented, pointing his chin at Crowley. 

"Oh, but Crowley is wearing his everyday disguise, the one that suits him best: he's disguised as my husband!"  

"Oh yeah! An old husband who walks around in his socks, like my grandad!" declared the boy, with a big mocking smile.

Crowley reached into the child's basket and pulled out a large handful of sweets, which he put back into the bowl:

"Here, for your trouble, grandad will keep these for himself! Now off you go, go and see Nina across the street, let's have some fun!”

Not without sticking his tongue out at him first, the little devil skipped back to his parents.

"Crowley!"

"What? Come on, the distribution is done, it's my turn to have two big sweets!"

"But... It's not over yet, Crowley, there are lots more children coming," explained the bookseller, pointing to several groups of children walking up and down Whickber Street.

"I thought you were supposed to suck me? Isn't that what the costume is for?"

"Shhh!"

The demon grabbed the bowl from his hands and put it on the floor: 

"There, they can help themselves! I want to take a big trick!"

"But... You're impossible..." stammered Aziraphale. "Fine! Go home right now so I can get you in the mood!"

"Really? Let's see how you're going to do it…" 

"Crowley!" repeated the angel, pushing him inside.

He double-locked the bookshop door behind him, while the demon fervently stripped off his shirt. With a snap of his fingers, he lit all the lights and lanterns, bathing the bookshop in a soft orange glow, and turned on the small television that had recently been installed opposite the sofa.

"Would you like to watch a horror film?" he asked Aziraphale as he undid his belt. 

"Hmm... I was thinking more about that film you mentioned earlier..."

"What? Human Sexipede? You want to watch porn? By the grace of Satan, it's a miracle!"

Crowley quickly started the film before the angel could change his mind and decide to go back to handing out sweets! Soon, obscene noises rang out from the television set as the two celestial beings settled down on the sofa with a bucket of sweets. After a moment (a fairly brief one), Aziraphale became agitated: 

"Well, I think I get the idea!" 

"Really? You haven't watched it all the way through!" 

"A mouth for a genital organ, is that right? It's not the kind of film with a very elaborate plot, you know, my love?" asked Aziraphale, raising a mocking eyebrow. 

"We've... We've never done that before, angel... You know? Humans call it a 69..." 

"What have I told you before, my dear? To better understand humans, we must live like them! And if they do, um... 69s, then so must we!" 

"Yeah! Yeah... That's exactly what I've been saying all along: you're absolutely right, angel, we have to do everything like humans!”

"All right, then... Um... How... How do we do it? You... You should lie down, I'll, um..."

"You're going to get on top of me?" asked Crowley, euphoric.

Without further ado, the demon lay down on his back and let the ends of his overly long legs hang over the armrest of the sofa. He then motioned for Aziraphale to join him:

"Come on, get on top of me! And keep your sock garters on, for Satan's sake!”

A little awkwardly, the bookseller removed his hands from his garters to rub his stomach, as he did mechanically whenever he was afraid of doing something wrong. 

"Don't worry, Aziraphale, you'll do wonders, as always," Crowley reassured him with a mischievous smile.

So Aziraphale climbed onto the sofa, carefully positioning himself on top of the demon, facing the opposite direction. 

"It's... It's a bit of a strange position," he commented, once his face was in front of Crowley's penis, which was already beginning to stiffen.

The demon, for his part, was revelling in the spectacle before his slit pupils. The angel's testicles dangled just a few inches from his face. 

"Angel... Before we begin, I'd like you to do something for me!" 

"What is it, my star?" asked the bookseller, tilting his head between his arms. 

"Face fuck me!" 

"Sorry?" choked Aziraphale. 

"Fuck my face with your balls!"

"B... But, um..."

"Go on, don't be afraid!"

"I'm rather... ashamed to do that, to be honest..."

"There's no shame between us, angel! We're a group! A group of two, better than that even: a married couple! So fuck my fucking face with your three-piece set, Aziraphale, that's an order," added Crowley, lifting his face to present it to the angelic crotch. 

"All right, all right... Um... Put your head on the cushion, I want you to be comfortable," explained Aziraphale, sitting up on his knees. 

"Hurry up!" growled the demon feverishly, bringing a hand to his own crotch to masturbate.

With uncertain movements, the angel crawled on his knees so that he was positioned just above Crowley's face.

"Are you... Are you sure?"

"FUCK ME!" shouted the demon.

Aziraphale then delicately placed his testicles somewhat randomly on Crowley's graceful face and began to rub them against it. 

"Oh, my... Fuck, Aziraphale, I love your big balls," stammered the demon.

Encouraged by Crowley, who was masturbating more and more frantically, the bookseller relaxed and rubbed himself more energetically on his husband's face. 

"You like that, don't you?" he marvelled. "Is that what you think about when you watch your human adult films? Me 'fucking' your face?" asked the angel, pressing his arm against the back of the sofa for stability. “I admit I find it very pleasant too…”

Moved by a sudden thought, he changed his position slightly:

"Lick me!"

"Oh fuck, angel, you turn me on so much!" replied Crowley immediately, sliding his forked tongue between Aziraphale's fleshy buttocks. 

"Oh..." sighed the bookseller, sitting up. "You're... You're really very good at that, my love!"

Excited by the demon's prowess, Aziraphale finally slid forward to take him into his hungry mouth!

"Aziraphale!" 

With the bookseller's nose buried in his testicles, it took Crowley a few moments to refocus, and when he did, he hastily wrapped his lips around the angel's erection. He swallowed it inch by inch into his throat, ignoring his gag reflexes, and clung to Aziraphale's thighs, digging his fingers into them. 

In a cacophony of muffled moans and wet mouth noises echoing those of the small television set, it didn't take long for the two celestials to climax, each in the other's mouth, in perfect harmony. 

Aziraphale finally sat up again on his knees, straddling the demon's hips, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"I... I admit I really like this process after all!" he confessed, a little ashamed. 

"Yeah, that's what I thought! You drowned me on that one," Crowley laughed, wiping the corner of his shiny lips. 

"Oh, sorry! It's just... It turned me on more than I thought it would!" 

"Tsss... No excuses! Especially not for that! After all, I got what I wanted: two big sweets and a treat! And for a vampire, I have to admit you know your stuff like no one else, you milked my…” 

"Shh!" interrupted Aziraphale, freezing. 

"Oh, come on, don't act offended! Not after what you just did to me," added the demon mischievously. 

"Someone's at the door!" 

"Yeah, so? More sugar-craving brats. Those little junkies must have polished off the whole bowl! Want me to miraculously refill it?" asked Crowley, waving his fingers. 

"No, no! They're knocking too hard for children!" replied the angel, getting up to hurriedly put on his trousers. 

"Blimey, you can't even watch a bit of porn in peace in this bookshop! How do humans manage to reproduce so much?" grumbled the demon, standing up. 

Once they were reasonably dressed, they approached the door to find Nina and Maggie behind the glass, knocking loudly on the front door. Maggie was apparently dressed as Tinker Bell, while Nina was a rather unconvincing Peter Pan... Aziraphale opened the door with a friendly smile:

"Nina, Maggie! What a lovely surprise!"

"What do you mean, a surprise? You're late, you cardboard archangels!" Nina retorted sharply.

"Late for..." 

"The fancy dress party!" Maggie added cheerfully. "At the café! We talked about it with Crowley last week," she explained, smiling.

Aziraphale turned to Crowley with a questioning look.

"Oops..."

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Nina, exasperated, listening intently. "What's that noise?"

It turned out that the porn film wasn't over yet, but judging by the exaggerated squeals coming from the small lounge, it wouldn't be long... 

"You... You're watching porn at six in the evening? With the neighbourhood children going door to door? Ha, celestial beings are beautiful, well done!" applauded Nina, rolling her eyes. 

"It's... It's just that..." stammered Aziraphale. 

"Right! Let's get going, everyone's already here! You're not dressed up yet, Anthony? Oh, of course not, silly me! You'd rather be naked, you dirty-minded creature!"

"I'm dressed up as his husband," Crowley explained, pointing to the bookseller.

"That's a rubbish costume! Find something better and hurry up! Mr Brown has a great costume, him!”

"Don't move," grumbled the demon, slipping away.

He returned naked, draped in the tartan blanket from the sofa.

"What... What is that?" asked Maggie timidly.

"But what are you dressed up as?" added Nina, with a look of incomprehension.

"As the amnesic Archangel Gabriel! Right, shall we go?" sighed Crowley, putting on his sunglasses and taking Aziraphale's outstretched hand. 

"They... They're completely crazy, those two!" lamented Nina, looking at Maggie with wide eyes. 

"I remind you that..." Maggie began, before lowering her voice. "Even God and... don't want them anymore," she added, pointing alternately at the sky and the ground. 

"Yeah... We understand them..." replied Nina with a sigh. "Hey, um... Would you like to finish watching their film? We could..."

"Nina! Our guests are waiting for us," Maggie blushed.

"Okay, okay... I'll ask Anthony to send me the link to the video," she added in a low voice, closing the door to the bookshop. 

(1) Human Sexipede is a pornographic parody of Human Centipede, and no, I haven't seen it 😜! That said, I hear it's very funny! (clip available on Dailymotion...)

Author's note : thank you so much for this new edition 💖, for each kuddo, each comment, ILY, fam 🫶 🫶 🫶