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Chapter Text

"And you're really sure about this?"

Aziraphale couldn't help but give Crowley an indulgent smile, cupping his cheek in an attempt to smooth away the anxious lines creasing his face. "I was the one who suggested it, dearest," he reminded him, for what had to be at least the dozenth time. They'd had a rather lengthy discussion on it, in fact, and Aziraphale knew that Crowley's reticence stemmed entirely from the potential of scaring Aziraphale off with some of his more demonic aspects, rather than a lack of desire himself. The way that Crowley's pupils had immediately blown wide in arousal had very quickly disabused Aziraphale of that doubt when he'd first tentatively broached the topic. "I'm quite sure. I love all of you, my darling, you needn't hide anything of yourself away for fear of me not accepting you."

Crowley closed his eyes and leant into the touch, hand rising to curl around Aziraphale's wrist, like he was worried about Aziraphale pulling away too soon. "All right," he murmured, opening his eyes again, irises golden from side to side. "You remember what to say if it's getting too much for you?" he asked, as if they hadn't already been having the sort of sex that necessitated the use of safe-words long before Aziraphale had floated the option of indulging in this particular series of kinks.

"Of course," Aziraphale assured. "That goes for you, as well, I might add. I won't enjoy this if you aren't there with me."

Something in the demon's expression softened. "Thanks, angel," he murmured, turning his cheek and pressing a kiss to Aziraphale's palm. "I'll go get ready, just give me a few minutes, yeah?"

Aziraphale gave him a dazzling smile and a happy little wriggle. "I shall count them with bated breath."

Crowley snorted fondly, brushing his lips against Aziraphale's palm once more before slipping off, out of his grasp.

True to his word, Aziraphale held his breath until he felt a subtle pulse of demonic energy in the next room, signifying that Crowley was waiting for him to enter. He straightened, conjuring up a facsimile of his flaming sword and holding it at the ready as he advanced into Crowley's plant room.

He had to hold in a gasp when he saw what Crowley had done with the place.

The plants within had multiplied exponentially, creeping vines racing up the walls and across the ceiling so that barely anything of the bare grey concrete of Crowley's flat showed amidst the greenery. He could almost be forgiven for believing he was in the midst of a jungle somewhere, humidity coiling its way into every crevice of his body and making his clothes begin to stick to him. He bravely advanced, glancing behind him as he heard the rustle of more vines unfurling to cover the door he'd just stepped through, sealing him inside.

The telling rasp of scale against leaf litter sounded from the other end of the room, and Aziraphale whirled back around, sword held aloft as he peered into the undergrowth. Soft laughter echoed around him, and Aziraphale felt the skin under his collar heat further. Ignoring his own reactions, he lifted his chin defiantly. "Show yourself," he demanded, stepping forward again, even as the roots covering the floor seemed determined to tangle with his feet.

The laughter stopped, as did the scrape of scales, a hush settling over the room.

Even the plants themselves seemed to near quiver in awe and anticipation.

Then, with a great, slithering rush, Crowley's massive, newly serpentine form shot out from amongst the leaves, moving almost too fast for Aziraphale's eyes to follow. From the waist up he was still humanoid, albeit with a fanged smile, clawed hands, and scales randomly scattered like stars over his skin, but everything below the belt – metaphorically speaking, given that the demon was currently naked – was pure serpent, several dozen feet of solid, scaled muscle. He moved around Aziraphale in dizzying, wide loops, black-and-red coils stacking up in a wide arc like a living fence, corralling him in the centre of the room. Aziraphale couldn't help but spin helplessly on the spot, trying and failing to keep up with the demon's movements.

It was inevitable, then, that Crowley's tail snapping against his wrist came as a complete surprise, his fingers involuntarily springing open and the sword falling from his grip. The flames lighting up the blade snuffed out the moment it left his fingers, and Crowley deftly caught it, flicking the sword from hand to hand before catching the tip of it under Aziraphale's chin, forcing the angel to stumble backwards on the uneven floor until he fetched up against the warm, solid bulk of his serpentine coils.

Crowley's eyes practically glowed like molten metal, amusement tugging at his lips as he regarded the angel held pinned under the business end of the sword.

"What'sss a foolish little Principality doing in my domain, carrying a nasssty thing like thisss?" he asked, fully surrendering himself to his tongue's penchant for sibilants. His grin inched a little wider, needle-sharp canines fully on display. "Did no one warn you how dangerousss it is to threaten the likes of me?"

A wetness began to gather in between Aziraphale's thighs that had nothing to do with the humidity. "You don't frighten me," he retorted even as he gulped at the pressure of the sword against his neck.

Crowley let out a throaty chuckle. "Oh? Maybe it isssn't really a fight that you're after, hm?"

He pulled the sword away and carelessly tossed it over his shoulder, where it quickly vanished into the undergrowth. He moved in closer, replacing the sword-tip with a claw, tilting the angel's chin up. His serpentine half cinched in suddenly, trapping Aziraphale from the hips down. Aziraphale instinctively shoved his hands against the topmost loop, but Crowley didn't budge in the slightest, even squeezing a little tighter as if to demonstrate how futile struggling was going to be.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Aziraphale said stubbornly, even though there was no mistaking Crowley's intent, not when his eyes were staring, half-lidded, at the angel's lips. Aziraphale couldn't help but dart his eyes briefly to just below where Crowley's skin blended completely into scales, where said scales curved softly inwards to the demon's vent.

"No need to play coy with me, I can sssee exactly what you're after. But I think you're a little overdressssed for the occasion, don't you?" Crowley taunted, sending the tip of his tail slithering under the hem of Aziraphale's button-down. The tip flicked at the angel's nipples, teasing, as clawed fingers made short work of the tartan bowtie around his neck, dropping the scrap of fabric to the side to be lost amidst the twisting roots below. Aziraphale let out a soft whimper at the sensation of smooth scales against sensitive skin, and Crowley's tail continued questing upwards, hooking itself around the top button before yanking outwards, all the buttons on both his shirt and waistcoat flying off simultaneously. Despite the clothing being a conjured replica of his usual attire, knowing that this was going to be how his clothing was about to be treated, Aziraphale couldn't help but cry out at the destruction. Crowley grinned, fangs flashing, as his tail dove up one of the angel's sleeves and down out the other, ripping through them at the seams so that his entire torso was bared, the shredded fabric fluttering to the ground.

"You mustn't!" Aziraphale protested, pushing ineffectively at the coils of Crowley's body as he tried to free his legs.

"What a delectable little morsssel I've caught myself," Crowley mused, ignoring him. He trailed the back of a claw over one of Aziraphale's nipples, smirking as it almost instantly hardened at the touch. Aziraphale pushed at him, and Crowley's tail rose almost absently to curl around his wrists, tugging them behind the angel's back so that his chest was forced forward, on display. Crowley immediately took advantage, a distinctly forked tongue flashing out to lap at the angel's other nipple. 

"No, you can't!" Aziraphale insisted, even as he arched up into the touch.

"Who, exactly, do you think is going to ssstop me?" Crowley pointed out. "Ssstill, if you'd like a little more convincing, I'm happy to oblige," he said, then promptly slithered up Aziraphale's chest and sank his fangs into the angel's neck.

Aziraphale let out a soft groan, too startled by the suddenness of the act to properly protest before he could feel a wonderful heat pulsing through him from the point of impact, all tension fleeing him. The heat began to coalesce in a decidedly southerly direction, but, given how thoroughly immobilised his lower half was, there wasn't much he could do about it, so he simply basked in the sensation as it slowly gathered within him. The tiny voice in his hindbrain screaming that he was leaving himself at the mercy of a predator quickly dwindled away into nothing. 

He let himself drift for a few minutes as the paralytic worked its way through him, leaving him feeling complacent and dreamy.

"There, that'sss much better," Crowley crooned mockingly, tongue flicking over the puncture wounds as if to seal them before pulling back, watching Aziraphale loll in his grasp with an amused expression on his face.

It quickly became evident that Crowley wasn't going to proceed further than this until Aziraphale demonstrated the ability to verbally protest if he needed to. "Foul fiend," he slurred, and the response was near-instant. Crowley's mouth descended on him once more, licking and sucking at his belly, his nipples, forked tongue flickering and sharp fangs gently scraping until Aziraphale's entire chest was flushed with arousal. Crowley's coils shifted around him, one conveniently nestling itself between the angel's thighs. Aziraphale took no time at all to begin rocking messily against it, quickly soaking through the soft cotton of his underwear as Crowley wound around his torso, squeezing the angel rhythmically. Aziraphale let out a cracked gasp as the breath was squeezed from him; even though he didn't technically need it, the absence of air whilst being constricted like this made his head swim, warmth flushing through him. Crowley's scales glimmered slightly in the soft light, almost as if he'd oiled himself up for Aziraphale, to increase the smoothness of the glide of scale on skin.

Aziraphale moaned again at the thought, his already sloppy writhing growing frantic as he used what little control he had left over his movements to grind down against the thick coil pressed between his legs. Crowley continued to wind around him, scales sliding over the angel's sensitised nipples, body tightening so that Aziraphale was left gasping for breath, the feeling only intensified by the venom being pumped around his circulatory system. Light-headed, he let out a thin whine, and Crowley dove down, hands cradling Aziraphale's face as he drew him into a kiss. Aziraphale surrendered helplessly to it, newly-freed hands clutching limply at the demon's back, hips spasming as an orgasm cascaded through him, every lick of pleasure intensified by the warm pressure of the demon surrounding him.

"Knew you'd come around to my way of thingsss," Crowley told him, grinning unabashedly at the double-entendre, then tutted at the soiled state of Aziraphale's trousers. "But you have made a messss of yourself, haven't you? Better get that cleaned up right away."

He dispensed with Aziraphale's trousers much as he'd done with the rest of the angel's clothes, socks and shoes similarly vanishing somewhere in the flurry of movement so that Aziraphale was left stripped entirely bare. Aziraphale looked down and couldn't help but blush at the sight of himself – the delicate folds of his labia flushed pink, clit practically jutting with arousal, inner thighs slick and glistening, still twitching as the aftershocks trembled through him.

"Messy angel," Crowley admonished, the coils of his body shifting again so that Aziraphale was laid out on his back against them, wrists captured once more. Crowley eyed his cunt hungrily, making Aziraphale snap his thighs shut automatically, only for another endless serpentine loop to force them back open. Aziraphale whimpered as Crowley's hands settled on his obscenely spread thighs, his intent clear.

"Oh, you can't, I've already–" he bit his lip around the end of the sentence, swallowing the admission of how debauched he'd already been.

"Firssst of many," Crowley promised him, and dipped down to begin lapping at the angel's pussy.

He'd been subjected to the talents of Crowley's tongue many times before, and it didn't take long for the aftershocks quivering through him to build right back up, Aziraphale wailing as Crowley sent wave after wave of ecstasy crashing through him in rapid succession. He tried to buck up into the pressure, to writhe away, but Crowley's grip on him was like iron, perfectly pinning him in place, leaving Aziraphale entirely at his mercy. The demon didn't pull away until his chin was practically dripping with Aziraphale's juices, tongue tracing around his own lips in a slow drag as he savoured the taste.

"Oh, you… wicked serpent," Aziraphale moaned, unconsciously spreading his thighs a little wider in anticipation for what was to come next.

Sure enough, when Crowley lifted himself a little higher in the air, the vent situated where the crux of his hips would be on his human-shaped corporation had parted, a pair of hemipenes curving stiffly upwards.

"Please, you've taken so much already," he pleaded, the venom still rounding off the ends of his consonants.

"And I've yet to get mine," Crowley pointed out. "Hardly seems fair, doesss it? I'm only evening the ssscore."

He rubbed the tip of one hemipene tauntingly over the swollen lips of Aziraphale's cunt, the long expanse of his tail curling around the angel's body in an undulating ripple. Aziraphale tried not to be too obvious in leaning into the feeling of Crowley's scales grazing over his nipples, but the demon's soft laughter told him it was a failed attempt. He flushed a little at how obvious he must have seemed, then promptly forgot his embarrassment as Crowley breached him, the tapering of his hemipene becoming increasingly obvious as he pressed into Aziraphale's yielding body. The other slid lazily into the crease of Aziraphale's hip, an occasional drop of precum falling onto the angel's stomach.

"You can't…" Aziraphale mumbled, then his mouth dropped open in a soft moan as the upwards curve of Crowley's cock rubbed perfectly against his G-spot. Despite how quiet it had been, Crowley clearly caught the noise, and repeated the motion. Aziraphale couldn't fight back another moan, slightly louder this time, and Crowley began to build a steady rhythm. The limited mobility left to Aziraphale like this was quickly counteracted by the shift of scale and muscle against him. There was nothing for him to do but surrender to it, to the way that Crowley's cock was so much thicker at the base, making the fullness of every thrust feel like it was stretching him anew.

For all that Crowley had already wrung more than half a dozen orgasms out of him, the next overcame him almost lazily, Crowley burying himself deep with a groan as Aziraphale clenched around him. Panting against his collarbone, Crowley slipped a hand between them and rolled his thumb expertly over Aziraphale's clit, jolting him from one orgasm to another. He howled, flinging his head back, so tightly bound by Crowley's coils that he couldn't move much else.

"Greedy angel," Crowley chided, which was rather rich, Aziraphale thought – if Crowley thought that Aziraphale cumming so many times was objectionable, he really didn't have anyone but himself to blame. "Good thing I've got more than a few talents to sssatisfy you with."

He pulled back, cock slipping free of Aziraphale's hole with an obscene sound. The hemipene that had just been inside him was noticeably spent and drooping, but the other was more than ready to go, and Aziraphale let out a vague cry as it was eased into him.

"Shh," Crowley soothed, rocking into him, curling his chest towards the angel and surrounding him on all sides with his warm bulk. Aziraphale lost himself to the sensation of Crowley being everywhere around him, within him, fitting against him so perfectly he couldn't bear to imagine replacing him with anything or anyone else, couldn't bear to imagine his absence.

By the time that Crowley came again, his other hemipene had returned to full hardness, and he gave Aziraphale a wicked grin before sliding it home with a wet, filthy sound, its spent twin trailing a slick line over Aziraphale's hip. Aziraphale groaned helplessly at the unspoken implication that Crowley could well keep doing this forever if he felt so inclined.

He certainly made a good go of it; the foliage in Crowley's plant room was currently too thick to tell if the lighting in there was natural or artificial, but Aziraphale was inclined to believe it was the second, because it didn't change in the slightest with what felt like days of merciless pleasure.

When Crowley finally pulled away, Aziraphale could feel how utterly drenched his thighs were, through both his own efforts as well as Crowley's. Apparently, Crowley found the image as intoxicating as Aziraphale did, as he immediately dove between the angel's thighs, lapping hungrily at the mess they'd made. Aziraphale shrieked at the glide of Crowley's clever tongue over his swollen, sensitised clit, hips jumping up against the demon's mouth before immediately trying to jerk away. The paralytic had faded enough to grant Aziraphale use of his limbs again, and even with the coils of Crowley's body still wound tightly around him, Aziraphale still writhed and heaved and shouted with all his might.

It really didn't get him far – not that he truly wanted it to – and he found himself just as helpless as he had been before, Crowley's tongue an implacable, driving force against him. He squirmed and begged and sobbed, but he was still so far from making a genuine attempt from stopping the proceedings, pleasure spiking for the umpteenth time as Crowley eased him into another slow orgasm.

Crowley pulled away with an altogether self-satisfied expression, licking his lips clean as he took in Aziraphale's flushed, tearstained face. Both hemipenes hung thick and heavy below the demon's stomach, framed beautifully by the sleek scales of his underbelly. Despite having already been intimately acquainted with them both, Aziraphale couldn't help but stare, his self-control so shot that he didn't even catch himself licking his lips in anticipation until it was too late. "I fear that I shall die before you've finished exorcising your depraved lusts on me," he said breathlessly, in a masterfully bad attempt at deflecting just how much of a horny bastard this entire scenario made him. "I suppose you'll do something truly villainous to me next, like putting both of them inside me at once."

It took everything he had not to let the end of his sentence tilt upwards in a hopeful request.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at his theatrics. "…You do know they're not both meant to be used at once, right? It's so that I can use one and have the other ready to go immediately after." He leered at the angel a little. "Thought I'd been demonstrating that particular feature quite well."

Aziraphale batted his eyelashes coquettishly up at him. He knew that Crowley was just being facetious to get under his skin; they were already well outside the bounds of anatomical accuracy, there was no reason to let that stop them now. "Oh, but you're such a clever, dastardly demon, I thought for sure you would be able to use both at once." 

Crowley's tongue flickered out to taste the air, chucking Aziraphale's chin with a talon. "You should be careful sssaying things like that, little Principality," he chided with a wicked grin, then added, pointedly, "I might begin to believe that you truly do desssire more of this. There are all sssorts of devilish ideas I might get, otherwise."

Oh, right. Aziraphale was meant to be the damsel in distress.

He squirmed against Crowley's grip, shuddering as the motion drove the demon deeper into him. "N-no, that's not what I–" he began to protest, but the demon was already pulling out of him, leaving him with a hollow ache that begged to be filled. Crowley gathered both hemipenes in one hand, letting out a soft grunt as they pressed against one another, giving himself a few indulgent strokes as his eyes raked over the angel's quivering body. He tilted his head to the side, considering, then the coils around Aziraphale's chest tightened, lifting him into the air so that he was positioned over the demon's vent, legs splayed either side of his scaly bulk as he settled back against the coils of his own body.

"If this isssn't what you wanted, perhaps you ssshouldn't make such sssinful sssuggestions," Crowley told him, clearly enjoying having free rein to hiss his words as much as he liked, and guided the tapered ends of both hemipenes into the angel's waiting cunt.

Aziraphale groaned at the fresh intrusion, the inevitability with which Crowley lowered him onto his cocks. The tapering effect was even more obvious like this, especially when the hemipenes pushed far enough into him that they began to veer away from one another as they were naturally inclined to do, spreading him even wider. Aziraphale whined, and Crowley hushed him tenderly, kissing up along his neck until he reached the spot where he'd bitten the angel before. Aziraphale groaned as Crowley's fangs sank into the aching flesh, more of that wonderful venom spilling into him like a waterfall. It seemed more potent this time, robbing him of any semblance of fine motor skills and impossibly heightening every sensation. He almost could have sworn that he could feel each of Crowley's scales gliding over him, pressing into the gentle give of his flesh. The eager slide of Crowley's cocks into him was a consistent pressure, his body relaxing around them perfectly in sync with the increasing thickness the closer he got to their base.

It seemed endless, the steadiness with which Crowley pressed up into him, and it almost came as a shock when he felt himself settle against the equivalent of the demon's hips. The slow drag of the tips of Crowley's hemipenes against his inner walls when the demon began to lift him nearly made his eyes roll into the back of his head. It was a good job that Crowley was more than capable of moving Aziraphale about any way he pleased, because Aziraphale's thought processes were far too flooded with a heady cocktail of arousal and venom for him to be of much use himself. He was practically drooling with it as Crowley's tail tensed, lifting him back up, getting a few experimental movements in as the demon tried to figure out the best way to manoeuvre him. Crowley proved a delightfully quick study in finding things to bring Aziraphale pleasure, and soon had the angel bouncing on his cocks.

The steady thrusts mellowed to a more sedate pace after a few minutes. Not because Crowley was tiring in any way, Aziraphale soon realised, but because the tip of his tail was winding its way between the angel's arse cheeks, and such exploration was far easier to achieve with a slower moving target. He felt the tingle of a miracle in his posterior as Crowley graciously slicked up his arsehole for him, and then Crowley's questing tail found its treasure, slipping into him with such ease that Aziraphale couldn't help but gasp.  

He'd thought he'd felt full before, but this brought things to untold heights, leaving him breathless as he was pounded into both front and back. It really was fortunate that he didn't need to breathe to stay conscious, because the sensation alone was almost enough to send him roaring head-first into oblivion. There was nothing he could do but close his eyes and allow the pleasure to consume him, what little breath he could draw condensing against the scales dotting Crowley's chest.

With a drawn-out groan, Crowley held him close, shudders rippling through the long length of his body, tail twisting and tightening, the end of it shoving itself deep into Aziraphale's arse. He felt so ridiculously, deliciously full, could feel himself hovering right on the precipice of another orgasm, but Crowley was holding him so tightly that he didn't have the wiggle room to send himself over the edge. Crowley's hands settled on Aziraphale's hips, gently easing the angel off of him, positioning him on the flat expanse of scales just below his vent, tail still pressed deliciously deep. Aziraphale lolled back against the coils behind him, his cunt still feeling indecently stretched out. When he mustered the energy to look down, he realised why – the pale, glistening end of a mating plug was protruding slightly from between the folds of his pussy, keeping him wide and open.

"Oh, my…" he breathed, shuddering as the sight made his cunt flutter around the intrusion.

Crowley assessed the angel – cunt stretched obscenely around the mating plug, legs trapped under the bulk of the demon's body and bloodstream still swimming with paralytic besides – and clearly came to the conclusion that Aziraphale wasn't about to go anywhere, even if he wanted to.

"You'll keep," he decided, and, heaping a few more loops of his tail against Aziraphale's back for good measure, sending the angel toppling against him, promptly closed his eyes and began to softly snore.

Aziraphale simply lay there for a few minutes, biting his lip as he shuddered through the last of the aftershocks, revelling in the weight pressing down on him. Once his breathing more or less evened out, he tried to move, a delicious shiver going through him as the weight on top of him and the venom flowing through him keep him immobile. He persevered, spurred on by the tantalising thought of what Crowley might do to him if he woke up to find the angel trying to escape his grasp.

Through a herculean effort, Aziraphale finally managed to move his shaking, sweaty body a mere inch, and he immediately gasped.

Crowley seemed to have arranged himself purposefully so that his tail remained buried deep in Aziraphale's arse, and shifting even that small amount had only served to drive it deeper into him. Not only that, but his body responded by clenching involuntarily, making him clamp down on the thick plug stuffed into his pussy. 

He was a bit of a lost cause after that, his fantasies of being caught trying to escape forgotten as he desperately writhed within the confines of his serpentine prison. He whined, determinedly chasing completion even as overstimulation hummed its way up through his chest, catching in his throat.

Then he was gone, pleasure and pain colliding headily within him, overwhelming him, and ultimately dragging him into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Aziraphale woke slowly, eyes still closed, to the feeling of his nose resting against something warm and slick. He forced his eyes open and blinked, trying to determine the source of the sensation.

Evidently, he'd slipped a little down Crowley's front as he'd slept, if the twinned cocks looming large in his field of vision were any indication. The look on Crowley's face indicated that the demon had been watching him sleep for a good while, and Aziraphale felt his cheeks flood with colour at the thought. Not that he hadn't already been acutely vulnerable, like this, but falling unconscious whilst at the demon's mercy was an even greater depth of defencelessness.

"Still he blussshes," Crowley teased, rather pointedly thrusting his tail a little deeper into Aziraphale's arse, making his lips bump up against Crowley's cocks. The movement also served to jostle the plug still stretching his cunt open, and Aziraphale whimpered even as a low pulse of arousal thrummed through him. "I've left your mouth quite empty in all this, haven't I?" Crowley asked, fingers twining in Aziraphale's curls, keeping him in place as his eyes widened.

"Oh, you can't," Aziraphale breathed, not missing how the wash of hot air over his hemipenes made Crowley shiver.

"Think you'll find I can," Crowley drawled, giving himself a few languid strokes before rubbing the head of one of his cocks over Aziraphale's lips. Aziraphale shook his head, only for Crowley's grip to tighten. He gasped a little at the sudden flare of sensation as his hair was pulled taut, and Crowley capitalised on it immediately, cock passing over the angel's lips before he could stop it. Aziraphale's hands shot up, bracing firmly against the scales beneath him, knowing that he could trust Crowley to stop immediately if he let go.

Crowley's hand was an implacable force against the back of his skull, slowly pushing him down, and down, until he reached the base, the other hemipene sliding hot and slick against his cheek. Aziraphale choked and gagged and let out a few grunted protests, purely for the pageantry of it. His fingers still gripped tight at Crowley's sides.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. "If you're already complaining now, you really aren't going to like the second one," he said with a wicked smile. Aziraphale let out a sound that was ostensibly one of fear, but just made Crowley groan as the vibration of it went up the length of him. "That'sss it," he said, voice gravelly. "This is happening whether you're ready or not."

Aziraphale, of course, was more than ready, and tried not to salivate too obviously as Crowley pulled his first hemipene out most of the way to make room for the second. His jaw began to ache almost immediately as both cocks filled his mouth, pressing their way towards a passage that wasn't big enough for both of them. Out of curiosity, he let his tongue swipe over the spot where the two cocks joined – or at least as close as he could get, given the way Crowley's cocks were flush against one another – and Crowley groaned, hunching forward slightly. A shiver ran through the demon, a long undulation that rippled through the coils still wound around Aziraphale's legs and ended at the tail still pressed up into the angel.

"Oh, yesss," Crowley hissed with pleasure, rolling up into Aziraphale's mouth. He forced his throat to relax as the tips of Crowley's cocks nudged in a little deeper. Crowley's motions were vigorous enough to make Aziraphale's lower half rock against him, providing him with just enough friction that he was able to build his slow way to another orgasm.

Not before Crowley got his end off – or ends, as it were – spilling so far down the back of Aziraphale's throat that he couldn't even taste it. Saliva pooled uselessly in his crowded mouth, spilling over his lips, and making for the lewdest sound Aziraphale had ever heard as Crowley rode through the crest of his own orgasm against Aziraphale's tongue.

"There you are," Crowley murmured softly once he'd recovered his sensibilities, rearranging his coils in such a way that both plug and tail were pressed all the more firmly into Aziraphale. "Nice and full now, are we?"

Aziraphale finally came, and he saw stars.

He must have passed out again at some point, because the plug was gone, leaving him gaping wide and empty, and Crowley had swapped out his hemipenes for a long, cannular protrusion. Aziraphale didn't cant his hips hopefully towards it, but it was a near thing – at least near enough that Crowley smirked and ran his fingers along its underside.

Aziraphale bit down on the snarky jab he wanted to make about anatomical accuracy, not wanting to risk Crowley deciding that he'd forego the next part of the proceedings if the angel was going to be rude about it.

His gaping cunt begged to be filled once more, and he nearly began sobbing with relief as Crowley lined himself up and began to sink in, the sheer length of what was about to be inside him nearly making Aziraphale cum again on the spot.

Aziraphale had decided going into this that having a cervix would just unnecessarily complicate things, and found himself rather glad of the decision as Crowley pressed up, and up, so much deeper into him than he ever had before, finding little resistance as he pressed in all the way to the hilt.

"Oh… oh…" Aziraphale stuttered, unable to keep himself from clutching at Crowley for support. Crowley's tail pressed a little deeper into his arse just as the base of the ovipositor began to swell, and Aziraphale keened at the sensation, nails glancing off Crowley's smooth scales. Clearly, Crowley had taken even more creative liberties than he'd first thought.

Crowley kissed away the involuntary tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "It's a lot to take, isn't it?" he simpered, clawed hands sliding up the angel's sides, thumbs dragging over his nipples as he went. It had been so long since Crowley had touched them last, but they were no less sensitive for it, and Aziraphale gasped, arching up into the touch. Crowley grinned. "I'm sure I can think of sssomething to keep you distracted," he murmured, then leant down to curl his tongue around the hard pink pebble.

"Oh– please–" Aziraphale whimpered, mouth falling open as he felt the first egg begin to inch its way inside of him. His arms found themselves wrapped around Crowley's shoulders, fingers clutching hard at the demon's long, auburn tresses. Crowley moaned against his chest, still gently licking and sucking with an occasional grazing of teeth.

The egg finally reached its widest point, then suddenly was inside him, steadily moving deeper once it was past the initial resistance of his entrance. Another began nudging its way into him before the first had even fully settled, and Aziraphale pulled harder on Crowley's hair, torn between wanting the demon to rub his clit and fearing that clenching down on the eggs too hard wouldn't end well.

After the first, the eggs made their way into him more readily, and before long his already round stomach began to visibly expand as he was filled. Crowley carefully manoeuvred both of their bodies so that Aziraphale was laid out on his back, supported on all sides by the shimmering black of Crowley's scales. Crowley pressed a little deeper into him, forcing the next egg past the tension of his entrance and making his eyes roll into the back of his head.

Another began pressing into him immediately after, just on the right side of too much, and Aziraphale gasped, thighs quaking as it slipped into him. It didn't seem that Crowley could possibly fit any more into him – and yet, the demon proved him wrong another half-dozen times over, stomach distending so rapidly that it certainly would have caused some damage if Aziraphale had been human. As it stood, however, physical limitations were an optional extra for the both of them, and whilst Aziraphale could have given himself an infinite capacity to be filled had he so desired, he much preferred it like this. The closeness, the intimacy of it, the way he was pushed to his absolute limits – artificial as those limits might be – and the absolute trust he had that Crowley would make this experience the best it could possibly be.

Crowley seemed satisfied that Aziraphale was as stuffed as he was going to get, body shifting around him so that he was eased into a seated position. Aziraphale groaned as even the gentle motion jostled the eggs inside him, pressing them harder against the inside of his swollen skin.

"Jussst look at you," Crowley murmured approvingly, eyes sweeping hungrily over Aziraphale's rounded stomach, the slight sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, the haze of desire darkening his eyes. "You've taken everything I've given you so well, couldn't have done a better job if you'd been made for it." His head cocked to the side, a smile playing around the corners of his lips. "I'm sssure I could find a little more space in there, though."

Aziraphale groaned, eyes slipping shut as his head tipped back. As it stood, he knew there was no more room left in the artificial womb he'd given himself, not unless he miracled it bigger, which felt like conceding defeat.

His eyes popped back open when, instead of feeling another egg push its way into his overstuffed cunt, he felt a clawed forefinger and thumb slide into his mouth. Experimentally, he curled his tongue around them, and they retreated, leaving behind a small cube of beef, flavour bleeding out over his tongue. Aziraphale let it sit there for a moment, thoughtfully savouring the slight tang of vinegar, the richness of the meat, the crisp seared edge of it the only thing lending it any structural integrity. He finally shifted the morsel between his teeth, crushing it between his molars and allowing the burst of juices within to flood his mouth. With a single swallow, it was gone, the aftertaste lingering like a delightful spectre.

Crowley fed him several more tiny cubes of different meats, smoked and spiced and so tender that they practically melted on his tongue. Next came an assortment of cheeses, invariably soft and creamy enough that they almost seemed to slide down his throat of their own free will. The cheeses were followed by all manner of sweet desserts, so delicate that they seemed to start dissolving as soon as they passed his lips. Aziraphale could appreciate that Crowley had clearly gone for a menu that required him to put as little effort into chewing as possible. It made him feel incredibly decadent, and full in so many ways. He also couldn't help but feel a shiver of secret delight with the knowledge that some very unpleasant people, with entirely too much money, were finding themselves inexplicably deprived of their lavishly expensive meals.

"Have to get keep your ssstrength up, if you're going to survive the next part," Crowley told him, words both a taunt and a warning. Any threat his tone carried, though, was largely allayed by the care with which he placed the next treat on Aziraphale's tongue, and the adoration lurking in his serpentine eyes as he watched Aziraphale eat with rapt attention. Aziraphale let out a soft moan at the flavours playing over his tastebuds, enjoying the taste almost as much as the way Crowley's pupils dilated a fraction wider. "Ssspeaking of which, I think you're as ready as you're going to be."

He gently eased himself out of Aziraphale, tail retreating from his arse as well, and the angel let out a soft, confused whimper, wondering how it was possible to feel so empty and so full at the same time. Crowley tutted and lifted Aziraphale into a bridal carry, rearranging his body beneath them both so that his coils piled up like a scaled facsimile of a nest. Aziraphale could feel the flex of Crowley's abdomen against him, moving muscles that shouldn't technically exist as he lowered Aziraphale back down on his knees. Without the coils of Crowley's body to press himself against, Aziraphale wasn't sure he'd have been able keep himself upright. As it was, he still found himself clutching at Crowley's forearms as his spine curved with the weight of his belly, lest he fall forward completely.

He hadn't intended it as an invitation, but the positioning had very much put his arse on display, and the tip of Crowley's tail sliding into him once more was a more than welcome sensation. He tried not to let his responding groan sound too relieved, but wasn't sure how effective that particular endeavour was. He bumped his head up against Crowley's palm, trying to wordlessly encourage the demon to otherwise occupy his mouth so that any further embarrassing noises would be muffled. Crowley took the hint, fingers tightening in the angel's curls once more and forcing his ovipositor past Aziraphale's lips. Aziraphale choked gratefully around its length, letting his mouth be abused as Crowley's tail pushed its way back into him, firmly pinning him in place.

"Let'sss see if we can't get those eggs back out of you, hm?" Crowley hummed, smoothing a hand over Aziraphale's sweat-dampened hair, brushing it out of his face. Almost as if by Crowley's command, Aziraphale felt the eggs jostle with something resembling eagerness within him.

He pulled off of Crowley, the feeling of him nudging against the back of his throat just that little bit too much as he felt the first egg begin to prod against the entrance to his modified womb. He whined, panting, pressing his forehead hard against the demon's abdomen in an effort to centre himself. Crowley made a soothing noise at him, stroking his hair as the egg began to squeeze its way back out the narrow passage. Aziraphale trembled, twitching spasmodically as the egg passed with agonising slowness over his g-spot. He was so close to the edge again, but he couldn't, not with the eggs still inside him, he couldn't, he couldn't–

His mouth opened in a gasp, but no sound left him, orgasm slamming almost brutally through him as the egg dropped into the waiting nest of Crowley's coils. His earlier fear that he might break the eggs by cumming was apparently baseless; Crowley had clearly made them of sterner stuff than that.

"Oh– oh, God–" Aziraphale finally spluttered once he had some semblance of control over his mouth. Crowley laughed above him, one hand reaching down to tease at his clit. Aziraphale jumped at the touch – and it was a testament to the care Crowley was taking that the demon's claws didn't so much as graze him – and the next egg fairly shot out of him, as shocking as the immediate orgasm that followed. He mouthed mindlessly against the space where Crowley's hipbone would normally be, arms clamped like a vice around the demon lest he get any funny ideas, like moving away.

"There you go," Crowley soothed, still rubbing gently at Aziraphale's overstimulated clit. Aziraphale cried out as another egg began to ease its way out of him. "There you are, just let go, that's it…"

Aziraphale rapidly lost track of how many of the eggs he'd laid already (not that he'd had a particularly accurate gauge on how many had been stuffed into him to begin with). Everything faded into an orgasmic haze, a new one starting before he'd entirely finishing coming down from the one preceding it, Crowley's reassuring praise a connecting thread throughout it all. He might have actually started sobbing with it all at some point, but he didn't care, obeying Crowley's directive to just let everything go. He shuddered and shook himself apart until he had nothing left to give, quietly gasping in Crowley's arms as he fought to regain control of himself.

He blinked dazedly up at his beloved demon, his body achingly empty but his heart exquisitely full.

"You back with me, angel?" Crowley asked gently, thumbs each stroking one of Aziraphale's cheeks.

"Mm," Aziraphale hummed in agreement, tired but more than sated. "Love you."

The fondness on Crowley's face made Aziraphale all but melt. "You too," he muttered, a blush highlighting the freckles on his face. "What would you like now?"

"Hold me?" Aziraphale requested, pressing his fingers to the back of one of Crowley's hands, despite knowing the demon wasn't about to pull away.

"'Course."

Crowley snapped with his other hand, and the eggs, along with any residual stickiness lingering from their activities, vanished. Aziraphale felt oddly put out by them just being dismissed off into the ether like that, although he supposed there wasn't much else that could reasonably be done with them. "Oh, but they were so darling," he pouted.

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him. "They were eggs, Aziraphale. They weren't even fertilised."

"Well, yes," Aziraphale admitted, knowing full well that he was being a little ridiculous. "But you made them, just for me. Of course I was going to think they were lovely."

The demon ducked his head and mumbled something indecipherable, colour mounting higher on his cheeks.

Aziraphale gingerly lowered himself into the divot left behind in the eggs' absence, curling up on his side. Crowley shifted to accommodate him, coils settling over the angel's lower half like a weighted blanket, hands drawing Aziraphale closer to his chest. Aziraphale tucked in against him with a contented sigh, Crowley's arms curling protectively around him.

"I take it you enjoyed yourself, then?" Crowley asked, just the barest hint of hesitation to his query.

Aziraphale smiled against the demon's collarbone. "Immensely," he assured, heavy lids sliding shut at the feeling of Crowley's still-clawed fingers trailing carefully through his hair. "Would it bother you terribly if I slept a little while, with you still in this form…?"

He could practically feel the tender smile Crowley was giving him. "You go right ahead, angel," Crowley assured. "I'll be here when you wake up."

"Might feel like popping out for some breakfast when I do," Aziraphale murmured sleepily in response. "Rather worked up an appetite with all this vigorous activity." He paused, nuzzling in closer to Crowley's chest. "Is it awful that I think I might want an omelette?"

Crowley snorted with laughter, doing his best not to jostle the angel. "You're incorrigible," he said fondly, but regardless added, "I'll get you whatever type of eggs you like once you're awake."

Aziraphale smiled again and finally allowed himself to drift off, surrounded by the warm loops of Crowley's serpentine body and feeling so very, very loved.

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