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The corset had been Aziraphale’s idea.
Crowley had always enjoyed lingerie of all varieties; he’d gathered quite an extensive collection of it over the years, ranging from gossamer silky slips from the 1920’s, to 1950’s garter belts, fully fashioned stockings and merrywidows, babydoll camisoles from the 1960’s, to more modern pieces composed of harnesses, chains, and mesh. One thing he did not own, however, was a proper steel boned corset, one that would really hold you in, could mold a curvaceous hourglass out of the straightest of torsos. He’d avoided the whalebone monstrosities of earlier centuries for obvious reasons, but had always admired the exaggerated curves of a corseted form.
“Have you ever thought about a corset, darling? I’m not certain I’d survive you in that, but I’m more than willing to try,” Aziraphale had remarked almost offhandedly while he’d been carefully selecting an ensemble of lingerie for the demon to wear that evening, something the both of them enjoyed to a rather wild degree.
“Ngk,” Crowley’s already quite pink flush had crept down from his cheeks to his neck and deepened into a bouquet of crimson peonies that kissed his clavicle.
And that was how Crowley now found himself laced into an inky black, satin underbust corset that was cut in an exaggerated hourglass shape. It highlighted the demon’s already slender, delicate waist in a way that was positively sinful, and it created an even more dramatic parabola of his hips that was undeniably feminine. The corset sat over a retro style, six strap garter belt that connected to thigh high stockings, and they featured a black backseam that swirled into snakes at the base of his ankles. The demon felt like a present that was wrapped within the most erotic of embellishments as he rode Aziraphale’s cock with fervent abandon.
“That’s it, my sultry temptress,” Aziraphale growled as he pulled the laces of the corset even tighter and held them like a leash, black strings wrapped around his hands in a taut hold; Crowley yelped as he was pulled even more deeply onto the angel’s cock, and he felt his own throb, felt the black lace of the panties he was wearing become wetter from precome, “take all of me, just like you were made to–”
The angel grabbed Crowley’s hip, thumb hooking under lace in order to pull the slinky undergarment even more roughly to the side. He slammed up into the demon with such precise force against his prostate that the demon wailed, and his thighs started to tremble from the nearly burning ecstasy of Aziraphale using him like he was the angel’s personal fuck toy.
The demon was that, he supposed, and the thought pushed Crowley even closer to the edge as he started to falter while frantically bouncing up and down onto the angel; Aziraphale was sitting on the edge of a leather chair, and the demon was straddling the angel’s thick thighs, but facing away from him. The red bottomed, black stilettos he wore slipped in a screeching cacophony on the hardwood floor of their cottage as the demon struggled to keep up the breakneck rhythm.
He felt the angel’s warm breath tickle the back of his bare shoulders as Aziraphale’s lips ghosted over the contour of his trapezius, trailing barely there kisses along the muscle before sinking his teeth into a bite that made Crowley cry out; shimmering, reflective black scales erupted from his skin where the angel's canine had pressed into his shoulder. The angel hummed in delight as he watched the serpentine characteristics of his lover flourish under his ministrations. Beautiful, undulating swaths of the onyx scales now glistened along the edges of sharp shoulder blades, too; they rather matched the lustrous satin of the corset, Aziraphale thought.
“Having trouble, my darling serpent?” he murmured as he slid the hand holding a slim hip over the sleek front of the corset, continuing upward to drag neatly manicured nails over Crowley’s naked chest, tweaking pebbled nipples and scratching lightly over skin that had shivered itself into goosebumps, “do you need me to help? Need me to handle you and use you like the little doll you are for me?”
“F-fuck, angel, ffffffuckkk—”
“Use your words, blackbird; be a good little pet and ask me properly.”
Aziraphale slowed their movements in a flash of strength and speed; he yanked the laces in his hand as he wrapped his other arm around Crowley’s cinched waist and held him still. The only thing moving was Aziraphale's twitching, pulsing cock inside of the demon, still pressing along his prostate, making Crowley leak so much that now the lace confining his cock was shining. The steady, not-enough pressure against the bundle of nerves was excruciatingly gorgeous torture, and the demon tried to shift in Aziraphale’s grasp, tried to chase more sensation, but he didn’t budge.
“Oh fuck, f-fuck, pleasssse, pleassse, angel, f-fuck me, use me, pleassse m-move, Aziraphale, pleasssssse–”
“Good girl,” Aziraphale purred as he he lifted the demon by the waist just enough to spin him around to face him; he grabbed stocking clad thighs with greedy fingers, snapping the garter straps and relishing at the little whines that produced from the trembling, overwhelmed demon. The angel wrapped his hands around Crowley’s corseted middle, nearly fully spanning the circumference of it, and resumed sliding into him; he moved slowly for a moment before increasing his speed, and he began pounding into the demon forcefully and without mercy. He pulled Crowley on and off of his cock so easily, the weight of the demon nothing to but a pleasantly willowy thing in the palm of his hands that he could play with as he pleased.
“FUCK! A-angel, yessss, yess, pleasssse, jusssst like that, t-thank you, c-closssssse—”
“Look how wet you are for me, my little black swan, my sweet slutty cygnet—”
“Angellll—
“You’re so tight around me, fluttering and squeezing and aching. You need to come so badly, don’t you, my lovely seductress? Need to find your release?”
“P-pleasssse, angel, I need it, n-need you, pleasssse, I need—”
“You need it so badly; let me give you what you need, Crowley,” Aziraphale growled lowly, but there was an almost desperate promise in his words, too, “you have me, darling, and I have you,” he angled his hips just so, aimed his thrusts right where he knew the demon needed them most, “need you to come for me, pet, need to make you to feel so good, fuck—”
He tightened his grip around that impossibly tiny, steel clad waist as Aziraphale’s orgasm threatened him; the angel grit his teeth as he kept fucking into the simmering velvet heat of the demon. Crowley had devolved into hissing, gasping sobs, and the scales adorning his thighs and shoulders flashed in a faintly golden glimmer as he started to come; he threw his head back, scarlet waves flying in a blaze of flame as he keened.
“Yes, my glorious harlot, come for me, I’m right there too, going to fill you, just how you want—” the angel broke off into agonized groan as his climax was ripped out of him by Crowley’s own, and he had to lurch forward and wrap now shaking arms around the demon in order to stop him from falling backward. He encircled the demon in his arms, slid his palms flat over his quivering back as he came inside of him, head buried into the simmering heat of the juncture of Crowley’s neck and shoulder, tongue out to languidly drag against smoky skin. The angel fell into the chair with a thwump, bringing the demon with him to collapse against Aziraphale with a shuddering sigh.
“I’ve got you, love, I’ve got you,” Aziraphale whispered as he cradled the shivering, still whining demon close to his chest; he fumbled with the laces of the corset and untied them with shaking fingers, pulling them looser so Crowley could draw breath easier in his afterglow. The angel watched scales slowly recede with a twinge of regret as the demon slowly came down from his euphoric high, his own waves of pleasure gently ebbing to something pleasant and buzzing instead of piercing and intense.
“So what'd ya think, angelll,” Crowley slurred into Aziraphale’s shoulder after a while, his lips slack and words drawling together in a muffled, exhausted tease.
“I think I’ll be rectifying my grievous mistake of not gifting you a corset until now by buying you many more, my darling demon– and also by insisting we break each one in to make up for such hideously wasted time; in other words, temptation accomplished.”