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Demonic Whispers

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“It’s all right; you don’t have to do anything. You can just let me take care of you,” Aziraphale whispered, brushing his lips against Crowley's in another series of delicate kisses, his fingertips skimming down the length of Crowley’s spine, taking advantage of his shirt having been discarded onto the floor. As he touched him, Aziraphale could now picture the striking black wings tattooed across Crowley’s back, which had intrigued him since he’d first caught a glimpse peeking out from beneath Crowley’s vest during his last appointment at the spa. Aziraphale wanted to trace every line and every detail of that tattoo with his fingertips, to explore every inch of Crowley’s body, mapping his freckles with his touch.

“Nhhhh... not fair... s’my line. My video,” Crowley growled. “You’ve taken care of me plenty. My turn.” Crowley pushed Aziraphale back down onto the sofa, and Aziraphale gasped as Crowley’s hands once again found their way into his hair. He’d immensely enjoyed the privilege of touching Crowley at the spa, but now Crowley was touching him , and Aziraphale was certainly experiencing tingles of all descriptions. “You know loads of my triggers now… only fair that I should get to explore some of yours.”

Aziraphale sighed contentedly as Crowley gently threaded his fingers through his curls, nodding to indicate his assent. He had spent countless nights watching the videos on Crowley’s YouTube channel, but that couldn’t even begin to compare to this . Now, Crowley was here , and Aziraphale could feel his warm hands actually on his body, rather than simply conjured by his imagination. Aziraphale relaxed into Crowley’s touch, the tension draining from his muscles, although a different sort of tension was starting to build deep inside Aziraphale’s abdomen.

“You want to tell me what they are, or should I try to figure it out for myself?” Crowley whispered in his ear, still rhythmically carding his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair. Aziraphale clenched his teeth and sucked in a breath, the sensation of Crowley’s hot breath in his ear making him shiver. “Would you like that? You want me to try out different things and watch how you respond?” Crowley’s hand trailed a little lower, fingertips grazing over Aziraphale’s neck, applying excruciatingly light pressure.

“Yes,” Aziraphale panted, his breathing already ragged although Crowley had barely touched him.

“Get yourself comfortable,” Crowley urged, scooting out of the way, giving Aziraphale room to lie down properly on the sofa. Aziraphale shuffled down and settled his head on the armrest. “Anything you don’t want me to do?”

“You can try anything.”

Anything ?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you if I don’t like it.”

“Do you want me to stick to ASMR stuff or can I do… other stuff?”

“You can do anything you want with me.”

“Hhhhhnnnn… you can’t say things like that!” Crowley hissed.

“Do whatever you want with me, Crowley,” Aziraphale insisted, lowering his voice and fixing Crowley with a heated stare. Crowley growled and straddled him, holding himself up with his palms pressed to the armrest on either side of Aziraphale’s head. Keeping his hips raised, Crowley lowered his chest to Aziraphale’s and began kissing his neck. Aziraphale rested his hands on Crowley’s hips, resisting the urge to tug him closer, but when Crowley’s kisses transformed into gentle nibbles, Aziraphale moaned and his hands slipped down, squeezing Crowley’s arse and pulling him down against him. Crowley yelped and then growled in Aziraphale’s ear, but the moment was soon broken by the sound of determined footsteps approaching.

“You guys literally make a living out of being quiet and you couldn’t even manage ten minutes! I’m leaving now!” Anathema called through the curtain, and Aziraphale could hear her rolling her eyes. They both froze, Crowley wincing and Aziraphale guiltily averting his gaze, but when the bell above the shop door jangled and the door slammed shut straight after, they both started giggling.

“I’m sorry!” they both choked out between their laughter.

“Well…” Crowley drawled, lifting himself back up, “at least we’re alone now.”

Crowley swung his leg back over and stood up, eyes drifting up and down Aziraphale’s body. Aziraphale immediately missed the warmth of having Crowley pressed up against him.

“Are you all right?”

“Mmm… fine. Just working out what I want to do with you.”

Aziraphale squirmed and shifted his hips on the sofa, looking up at Crowley towering over him. He was absolutely stunning. Crowley fell to his knees beside Aziraphale’s head, lowering his lips to his ear and lacing his fingers once again through his hair.

“Well, I know you like this,” he whispered, scratching gently at Aziraphale’s scalp. Aziraphale experienced a prickling sensation, starting at his nape and skittering down his spine, prompting him to melt further into the sofa. “And you like watching my videos, don’t you?”


“I wonder what I can tempt you into, sssssweet angel.” 

Aziraphale was already very aware that the sound of Crowley hissing softly in his ear could trigger an ASMR response. His body complied as expected and Aziraphale sank deeper into the sofa cushions as all of his muscles turned to liquid.

“I do believe the temptation has already been accomplished, Crowley,” he teased, sounding a little breathless.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Aziraphale’s breath hitched as Crowley’s hands drifted down his throat and found his bowtie, gently tugging it free. Crowley locked eyes with him as he slowly and methodically worked his way down the buttons of Aziraphale’s waistcoat and shirt, pushing the fabric gently to the sides with a feather-light touch.

“Wow… you’re gorgeous,” Crowley whispered into his ear, trailing his fingertips lightly down the length of Aziraphale’s sternum and across his stomach. Aziraphale squirmed and wriggled against the sofa. “Ticklissssh, hmm?”

“A bit.”

“Well, as much as I love watching you squirm, that’s not quite the reaction I was going for. Can I borrow your box of tricks?”

“Anything you want.”

“You need to ssstop ssssaying that,” Crowley hissed.

“But I like it when you hiss at me.”

“Noted.” Crowley grinned and rose up from his position on the floor beside the sofa, turning his back to fetch the box of magic tricks, giving Aziraphale another look at his stunning tattoo. While Crowley was occupied searching through the box, Aziraphale took the opportunity to discreetly divest himself of his undone waistcoat, shirt and bowtie. The shuffling sounds of Aziraphale’s movement were masked by Crowley rummaging around in the box, and when he turned around, the impish grin on his face melted away, his mouth falling open as he stared hungrily at Aziraphale, once again making him squirm.


“All right?”

“Yeah… wow , look at you...” Crowley rushed back over, dropping the objects he had selected from the box onto the floor (although Aziraphale had had the opportunity to note his choices - a pack of playing cards, the rope, and a silk scarf - while Crowley had been frozen staring at him). Crowley’s hands were on him immediately, the soft, teasing touches replaced with firm pressure to his shoulders, pinning him against the sofa as he lowered his lips to Aziraphale’s chest and began to explore every inch of exposed skin with his mouth. “You’re very distracting,” Crowley growled against his stomach, his breath tickling him again, making Aziraphale’s muscles tense. “Luckily, I’m a professssional .”

Crowley pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Aziraphale’s stomach and Aziraphale’s body jolted when he withdrew.

“Close your eyes, relax for me.”

Aziraphale rolled his shoulders and adjusted the position of his neck on the armrest to get more comfortable before doing as instructed and closing his eyes. He smiled when he heard the flick of the box of cards being opened and the rhythmic tapping of Crowley’s fingernails against the box, followed by the flutter of Crowley rifling through the cards beside his ear.

“Are you going to do a magic trick for me?”

“Shhhh,” Crowley whispered, playfully nipping his earlobe. Aziraphale sucked in a breath. He was experiencing a strange combination of sensations, feeling as calm and peaceful as he did when he listened to Crowley’s videos, but with an underlying thrum of arousal building in gradual increments with every touch and every whisper.

Aziraphale listened intently as Crowley began to shuffle the cards beside his ear with the careful diligence of an experienced ASMRtist, the sound pleasant and relaxing but not sufficient to induce further tingles. Aziraphale recognised the distinctive sound of a few riffle shuffles, picturing Crowley’s dexterous hands working meticulously with the cards. The effect such thoughts had on him differed quite markedly from the peaceful excitation of ASMR. This was an altogether different kind of arousal, one that was undoubtedly becoming more and more evident to Crowley, Aziraphale’s trousers starting to feel tighter as Crowley leaned in close to whisper in his ear again.

"Is this doing anything for you?"

"I’m not experiencing any tingles but it's certainly doing something ."

Crowley chuckled softly. "All right, let's try something else."

Aziraphale listened to the pleasant sound of the cards sliding against one another, tapping against the bottom of the box as Crowley put them away.

"It's a shame you don't have any feathers, but let's see whether you enjoy this."

A sharp intake of breath followed the whisper of a touch as Crowley lightly trailed the silk scarf up along the length of Aziraphale’s arm before sweeping it across his chest, grazing his nipples. Aziraphale wriggled a bit against the sofa.

"You like that, don't you?"


Another soft brush of lips and the teasing hint of Crowley’s tongue flicking out to probe briefly at the seam of his mouth had Aziraphale sinking even further into the sofa. Aziraphale hummed with contentment as Crowley continued to sweep the smooth, silky material of the scarf over his skin as he softly kissed him. He trailed it down the length of his other arm, stopping at his wrist, briefly wrapping the material around it, leaving Aziraphale wondering whether Crowley might use the scarf to bind his hands. A surge of arousal jolted through his body, coalescing into a hot, coiling pressure in his abdomen. Crowley wound the scarf around his wrist like a snake curling around its prey.

"Any tingles?"

Aziraphale smiled and shook his head.

"Hmm… you are a challenge." The silkiness of the fabric slipped away, replaced by Crowley’s fingernails lightly scratching over the delicate skin on the inside of Aziraphale’s wrist. "But I do have an idea of something that might work for you."

Aziraphale heard the rush of air as Crowley inhaled deeply and the shuffle of fabric as he rose from the floor, his soft footsteps becoming quieter as he moved away.

"No peeking."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

Aziraphale listened intently as Crowley shuffled around, able to discern the slight creak of hinges as cupboard doors were opened followed by quiet thuds as they were closed, the whoosh of a drawer gliding along its runners, the glug of pouring water, the clinking of metal against ceramic.

Aziraphale bit down on his bottom lip as a prickling sensation manifested at the base of his skull, sharp tingles building in intensity and spreading across his scalp before gradually dissipating, leaving behind a warm sense of peace that suffused throughout his chest. There was a greater depth to the response this time, the auditory stimulation coupled with visions of domesticity, of Aziraphale relaxing completely whilst Crowley pottered around in the kitchen making tea. It was evident that he was only pretending to do so at the moment, but Aziraphale hoped that their future might contain many moments of 'unintentional ASMR' as a result of the personal connection they would come to share, reminiscent of the very reason for this response evolving in the first place.

Aziraphale refreshed the air right at the bottom of his lungs, allowing his lips to curl into a contented smile. The sound of Crowley’s footsteps grew louder as he returned to the backroom, soon accompanied by a soft chuckle.

"That worked, didn't it?"


"Had a feeling the sound of making tea would do it for you."

"Cocoa would be splendid as well."

"I'll keep that in mind,” Crowley murmured softly. There was a shuffling sound followed by the gentle thud of Crowley’s knees hitting the floor as he once again knelt beside Aziraphale.

All was quiet for a moment, and then Aziraphale gasped in response to a sudden, unexpected sensation on his chest, something soft and yielding, unsubstantial, like being lightly touched with a cluster of fine points, perhaps frayed string. Aziraphale deduced that he was feeling the end of the rope from his box of magic tricks, Crowley sweeping it up and down over his chest and stomach, agonisingly slowly. Once again, Crowley trailed it down the length of one of his arms and looped it around his wrist, but this time he paused to tie a knot, securing it in place. Aziraphale released a shuddering breath, that hot tightness intensifying at the base of his spine.

"Do you like that?" Crowley whispered in his ear.


Crowley's fingers wrapped gently around his wrist and then Aziraphale’s arm was being lifted and placed gently behind his head, followed by the other. Aziraphale's heart quickened as Crowley wrapped the rope around his other wrist, tugging on it until his wrists were pressed against each other before tying another knot, binding his hands together. Crowley cradled his hands and tenderly swept his thumb across Aziraphale’s knuckles.

"Still good?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"I love this, having you lie still for me, letting me try to make you feel good.”

“You’re making me feel very good.”

“I told you, you haven’t seen anything yet. Mind if I remove the temptation for you to open your eyes?” Crowley whispered, the delicate touch of the silk scarf settling over Aziraphale’s eyelids.

“No, I don’t mind. I’d like that.”

Crowley was heartbreakingly gentle as he slid his hands beneath Aziraphale’s head, lifting and carefully manipulating until the scarf was fixed in place. When he spoke again his lips were close enough to Aziraphale’s ear to allow him to feel the warm caress of his breath. “Is that alright, angel?” he breathed, just a whisper. “Not too tight?”

Aziraphale allowed his eyes to flutter open from beneath the makeshift blindfold. Crowley had wrapped it around twice, so that only a hint of light glowed through. With a small, excited smile, he closed his eyes again, just to add to the comfort. “It’s lovely,” he assured Crowley, nibbling at his lip in an attempt to fight away his grin. “Perfect, in fact.”

A soft hum implied that Crowley was pleased with his response. “Let me know if anything doesn’t work for you,” he hissed, his mouth so close now that Aziraphale could feel his lips brushing his earlobe. It made pleasant shivers of desire crawl all throughout his body, right down to the tips of his toes. Feeling a little breathless and lightheaded at the direction things were headed, Aziraphale swallowed and nodded before managing a tiny, “I will…”

Although he was obviously expecting some kind of physical touch, it was still an exceptionally pleasant surprise when the warm, soft feeling of Crowley’s lips pressed to Aziraphale’s chest, featherlight. A little gasp of, “Oh!” escaped him and then he was melting into the sofa with a shuddering sigh as the touch moved slowly across his body. His collarbone, one shoulder, then the other, a line of kisses all down the lines of his ribs, the particularly intimate area just above the band of his trousers. Each press of Crowley’s lips made bursts of warmth and pleasure spread across Aziraphale’s skin, until he felt deliciously alight in a way he’d never before experienced. 

Without really realizing he’d opened his mouth, Aziraphale moaned low in his chest. “God, that feels so good, dearest…”

Despite being unable to actually see him, Aziraphale could almost feel the way Crowley smiled and preened. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself, angel,” he said, softly speaking the words against Aziraphale’s skin. “May I-” He paused, and Aziraphale could hear the way he swallowed, the delicate tremble of anticipation in his voice. “May I finish undressing you?”

Aziraphale’s breath left him all in a rush at the thought. Above his head his bound hands twitched and flexed, subconsciously seeking some purchase to focus on. “ Yes ,” he gasped. “Yes please …”

There was a sharp intake of air, and then Crowley set to work, moving with deliberate slowness so that Aziraphale would experience every sound and sensation possible. He felt the slight pressure of Crowley’s fingers freeing the button on his trousers, then leisurely drawing down the zipper, one agonizing millimeter at a time. Aziraphale’s breaths were beginning to quicken by the time the tantalizing touch of Crowley’s fingertips dipped below the waistband. Inch by merciful inch, those lovely hands pulled at the barrier that kept them from Aziraphale’s flesh, until finally there was the distinct sound of fabric pooling upon the floor. 

A deep breath, a thick swallow, and the tender tracing of the sensitive skin just beneath the elastic band of his pants. “These too?” asked Crowley’s voice, shaking slightly. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale whispered, without even thinking about it. There was certainly no way Crowley could mistake the desire in his voice. 

The pants went faster than the trousers did, though Aziraphale could tell that Crowley was fighting to keep going slowly, to draw out the responses from Aziraphale’s senses as long as possible. Then that last barrier was gone, and he could perceive Crowley standing and looking down at him. It was an altogether strange and thrilling new feeling that, all at once, made Aziraphale’s spine tingle with little electric pulses of pleasure.

“You’re there,” Crowley’s voice came, low and sweet, a smile in the sound. And Aziraphale nodded, just once, before letting out a juddering little sigh. 

With a tenderness that Aziraphale could scarcely fathom, Crowley’s hands found him, cradled him, and shifted his body until he was sitting, his head leaned back against the sofa, his bound hands in his lap. Mere inches away, his cock lay hard and heavy against his stomach, but it’s needy throb was somehow much less interesting than the tiny sounds of fingers flicking at buttons, pulling at zippers, and shifting fabric. 

When Crowley’s gentle fingers touched his hands again, Aziraphale allowed them to be lifted easily, willingly. He felt the soft brush of Crowley’s hair as they were encouraged up over the other man’s head, coming to rest around his shoulders. Then he felt the delicious wonder of bare skin - warm and smooth and electrifying - as Crowley climbed up onto the couch until he was straddling Aziraphale, knees around hips. Hands touching waist. Feet pressing against knees. 

Crowley leaned in closer and, with a little gasp, Aziraphale felt the unmistakable hardness of him press against his own. 

“Is this okay, angel?” came the whisper, painstakingly kind and soothing. 

“Yes-” came from Aziraphale’s lips before he could even think about his answer. In the following moment he amended with a hesitant, “Although…”

Crowley shifted, only slightly, but the movement made it clear to Aziraphale that he would pull back further - all the way if necessary - the moment Aziraphale asked him to. It only made Aziraphale’s heart pulse even harder with his absolute adoration for this amazing man in his arms. 

“I would like to see you now,” Aziraphale sighed, and let his fingers play into the hair at the nape of Crowley’s neck. “If that’s okay…”

The sound that Crowley made at the touch to his hair was as close to a purr as Aziraphale had ever heard come from a human throat. “Of courssse, angel,” came the playful hiss, before long fingers reached up to manipulate the scarf once more. 

For a moment after the scarf fluttered away from his face, Aziraphale continued to keep his eyes closed, enjoying the quiet majesty, the calm, unhurried way that Crowley trailed the silk down his chest before tossing it aside. Then he opened them, and felt every hint of breath he may have held in his lungs leave him all at once. 

By God , but Crowley was beautiful…

His long, bare body was so smooth, like porcelain, speckled in several places by delicate little clusters of freckles. His small waist was the perfect size for wrapping arms around, his hips the kind of sharpness that practically screamed for worship. His cock was long and lean like the rest of him, and was flushed hard and red, a beat of moisture gathering at the tip. And his eyes-

Oh, his eyes…

They were dark with desire, heavy with want, and shining with something that was much greater than either of those two things. 

“Oh Crowley, ” Aziraphale moaned, and without thinking about it, dove forward for a kiss. 

It began sweet and languid, each of them tasting the other, sighing against one another. Then, soon enough, tiny, playful nibbling of lips became slow, deliberate pressing of tongues, before morphing indelibly into messy, desperate gasps of hunger. Aziraphale’s bound wrists twisted against the rope around them in order to dig into Crowley’s hair, fingertips pressing against his skull in a way that made the beautiful creature moan. One of Crowley’s hands scratched along Aziraphale’s shoulder and down his chest with just the right intensity to make him shiver with pleasure and kiss Crowley even more deeply. The other hand traveled down, pausing just before it reached its target, the question evident in the sudden halting of movement. 

Aziraphale drew away from their kiss only so that he could look down at where Crowley’s hand hovered, and then back up into those gorgeous eyes that he’d fallen irreversibly, undeniably in love with. “ Please ,” he whispered, his voice thick and longing to his own ears. 

Without further hesitation, Crowley’s long fingers wrapped around both of them, pressing their flushed cocks together and holding firm. Aziraphale made a choked noise of something like relief and something like anticipation. The sound that came from Crowley was more like a whimper, a desperate little noise that indicated a struggle to contain himself. 

Aziraphale didn’t want him to contain himself. 

Undulating his hips in a leisurely, deliberate way against Crowley’s lovely, firm buttocks, Aziraphale dove forward to lick along the trembling length of Crowley’s neck and hissed, “Do it, me how you look when you absolutely fall apart…”

Crowley groaned at that, unable to stop the way his own hips twitched in reaction to the words, and then his hand was moving, his pace a little erratic, his thumb gathering and spreading the precome that glistened on each of them. “Don’t...don’t want it to be over so soon,” he admitted, gasping a little as Aziraphale nipped at his throat. “S’embarrassing. S’pathetic. I wanted to-” He let out a strangled sound as the daring press of Aziraphale’s teeth mingled with a particularly nice twist of his own wrist. When he tried to speak again his voice was shaky, betraying the advanced state of his arousal. “Wanted to last for you- Wanted to make it good for you-”

The vulnerable honesty and the steadily increasing velocity of Crowley’s wrist had Aziraphale shaking and moaning, his every sense set alight and flaring white-hot. “Oh darling,” he sighed against the hot flesh of Crowley’s throat, licking a thick, white stripe up beneath his lover’s chin. “You’ve made it so good You’ve been so good… And when this is over, my dear will be my turn to be good for you …” 

There was a sharp intake of breath, a pair of frantic, desperate pulls, and then Crowley was coming in wild, spasmodic bursts, a low moan of ecstasy ripped from his throat as his hot spend splashed between their bodies. Aziraphale immediately reached his own hand down between them, wrapping it over Crowley’s and helping him to keep moving, keep stroking, until his own pleasure crested and crashed over him in glorious, merciless waves. 

Foreheads pressed together, bodies wet with sweat and their own release, they gasped heavy breaths until their hearts began to slow and settle. Crowley’s lips twitched into a slow, wondrous smile, and Aziraphale mimicked the magnificent sight. It was an absolutely perfect moment; undoubtedly the most perfect moment of all of Aziraphale’s life. 

When Crowley began to chuckle beneath his breath, Aziraphale huffed playfully. When Crowley’s laughter became a little louder, Aziraphale lifted an eyebrow with a confused smirk. And when Crowley’s body was fairly shaking with mirth, Aziraphale leaned back and stared, bemused and curious and wondering what on Earth was-

“You broke the rope,” Crowley gasped out his explanation, a hand at his stomach as he struggled to fight back the hysterical giggles bubbling up from within. “Holy fuck, angel, you broke the rope!

Aziraphale blinked, jaw dropped, and looked down between their bodies with his hands held out in front of him. The torn remains of what was previously a single object now hung in separate pieces from each of his entirely unbound wrists. 

He couldn’t have stopped the bark of laughter even if he’d cared enough to try. 

“Never realized you’re so strong,” Crowley admitted once they’d laughed themselves to exhaustion. He nibbled at his lower lip and slid his fingers around Aziraphale’s neck to scratch gently up into his disheveled curls. “Caught me off guard, obviously-” He let out another low chuckle. “-but it’s also pretty fucking hot… Definitely turns me on something fierce.” He blushed at the admission, the look incredibly fetching on him.

“Oh?” Aziraphale asked, grinning and looking up from beneath fluttering eyelashes. “Perhaps you’d like to consider the discussion of what turns you on upstairs in bed?” He wrapped his unintentionally-free hands around Crowley’s waist, squeezing just a bit and watching the way Crowley’s eyes widened with surprise and want

“Already?” he asked, swallowing thickly, definitely not seeming opposed to the suggestion. 

Aziraphale was certain that his adoration was pouring off of him in waves, but just in case, he drew Crowley closer, close enough to capture his lips in another one of what he hoped would be many, many kisses. 

“Of course, my dear. After all, it is my turn…

Let me tempt you…