Happy Holidays, Lady_Oneiros!
Happy Holidays, lady_oneiros!
Title: And He Could Do Really Weird Things with His Tongue
Gift recipient: lady_oneiros
Author: lovessacrifice
Summary: Lucifer and Beelzebub plot to take Crowley back to hell for punishment. Crowley/Aziraphale, Michael/Raphael, Lucifer/Beelzebub, Hastur
Rating: R
“The trap hast been set.”
“You shall be rewarded for this, Hastur.” Beelzebub outlurked even his companion. “Soon Crowley will come and-”
“My master!” Hastur whispered and they both fell silent as a Bentley pulled up in the driveway with two beings of celestial origin inside. Hastur and Beelzebub became even more silent, if possible, when they saw what the two beings were doing now that the car was parked.
Beelzebub’s flaming eyes widened. “…Did you know he could do that with hizz tongue?”
Hastur stared, then mentally shook himself. “I can do more interesting things with my tentacles,” he sneered.
“Perhapzzz,” Beelzebub ignored Hastur to leer at the scene in front of them. “He is a more powerful demon than we thought.”
“Master, he prevented the Apocalypse. He disobeyed our Lord’s orders.”
“Yezz, but if he can zzeduce an angel he may be of use.”
“But,” Hastur protested, “I refuse to disarm the trap.”
“Of courzze not.” Beelzebub stared at the way Crowley was fondling the angel. “He’ll be dizcorporated and then we will deal with him.”
“I still want to torture him.”
“All right, but not for too long. It would be a shame if he forgot thozzze… talents.”
“They are going inside.”
****
“Mm,” Crowley pressed Aziraphale against the wall, busy making what would surely be a hickey on his divine lover’s neck.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale’s legs wrapped around the demon’s waist, his body supported by the demon.* “This really should wait until we’re inside your flat.”
“No time for that, angel.” Crowley’s tongue played with Aizraphale’s earlobe.
“My dear, we’re right next to the door.”
“Stop being sensible.” Crowley snarled but he shifted to the side so that Aziraphale was propped on the door instead of the wall. He then went back to ravishing the angel.
“Crowley…”
“It’s a compromise. You said for this to work we’d need to compromise.”**
“With all the times you’ve propositioned me in public I do think you want our superiors to find out about this.”
Crowley grumbled and eased the door open.
A clear liquid fell all over Aziraphale’s face. Crowley gasped and threw the angel to the floor, and walked back into the wall behind him, putting as much distance between them as possible. He glanced about the room before setting his eyes on Aziraphale again.
“Crowley, what the hell are you doing?” Aziraphale stood and started walking to Crowley.
“Stop!” Crowley threw his hands up in front of him, signaling Aziraphale to stop. “It’s holy water.”
“Holy water?” Aziraphale blinked and wiped his face with his hand, examining the drops trickling down his fingers. “It is.” He said, mildly surprised.
“Did your people do this?” Crowley demanded.
“No.” Aziraphale miracled the water away. “Not that I know of.”
“Check the rest of my flat, I don’t want to be incinerated when I lie down or- shit! My Bentley!” Crowley dashed down the stairs.
“Oh dear.” Aziraphale followed the demon.
*Fortunately, angels can be feather light when need be.
**Granted, Aziraphale had said this when the demon cornered him in the bedroom with chains and other items the angel didn’t want to see used on anyone at any time, let alone on him during an intimate moment.
****
“What?” Hastur gasped when Crowley ran out of the building and to his automobile.
“Hastur.” Beelzebub’s trench coat started to tear at the seams. “You have failed.”
“The bastard,” Hastur blessed. “The angel must have sensed something.”
“It doezz not matter.” Beelzebub’s sleeves ripped off. “I will deal with him now.”
Hastur abandoned lurking and went straight to hiding when he realized Beelzebub’s clothes weren’t poorly formed but in fact Beelzebub’s form was swelling.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale halted behind the demon. “Don’t touch it! It might be-”
“It’s fine. They didn’t-” Crowley realized the light in from of him wasn’t from a street lamp.
A figure of flame grew with each deliberate step toward the demon. “Crowley,” It boomed. “I have come for you.”
Crowley gaped. He was vaguely aware of Aziraphale swearing. There was no way out of this one. Lucifer himself had sent Beelzebub. Even if he ran, it would only be delaying the inevitable.
Still, it’s not like demons sat around waiting to be dragged down to hell and tortured.
Crowley leapt over the car door and into the driver seat. “Get in, angel!” he yelled, starting the engine. But after Aziraphale dove into the car, for once Crowley’s demonic powers were not cooperating. The car tinkered and sputtered and shook as violently as Crowley was.
“It izzz no use, Crowley.”
“Drive you fucking useless bitch!” Crowley screamed and hit the wheel with his hand. The Bentley sped into the distance. Crowley gasped. “Sorry,” he patted the car’s interior fondly. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“Oh dear.” Aziraphale stared behind them.
“Oh dear?” Crowley looked over his shoulder, narrowly avoiding crushing several people on the sidewalk. “The Virgin Mary,” Crowley blessed.
Rather than being a tiny flash of light in the distance, Beelzebub was several yards behind them and showed no signs of tiring. He was yelling obscenities and detailing all the hideous things he would do to Crowley once he had him back in hell.
“He seems to be rather fixated on doing things with your tongue…” Aziraphale pondered.
“You and me both, angel.” Crowley said idly as he urged the Bentley faster.
Aziraphale crawled into the backseat.
“What are you doing?” Crowley snapped.
“Try not to crash the car, my dear. I’m going to try and stop him.”
“Stop Beelzebub? You’re just a Principality!”
“The Lord’s Prayer should slow him.”
“The Lord’s Prayer! Are you fucking mad?!” the demon screamed. “I’d rather take hell!”*
“It won’t be directed to you, dear. You’ll only get a headache,” the angel paused. “All over your body.”
“CROWLEY!”
“Do it, angel!”
“Our father,” Aziraphale spoke in Hebrew.
Crowley winced. Beelzebub screeched damnation at Aziraphale.
“This better be working, angel!”
On the third round, Beelzebub stumbled and his threats faded in the distance.
*And by that he meant he would rather be surrounded by all the angels in heaven chanting the Lord’s Prayer than go to hell.
****
Raphael flipped through the pages of 101 Things a Boy Can Do.
“I thought he had Bibles.” Michael frowned at the room.
“I suppose he changed his mind.” Raphael said loftily before putting the book away.
Michael opened his mouth, and judging by the scrunched, unpleasant look on his face he was preparing to make a snide comment.
The door clattered open.
“Listen angel, if there’s nothing we can do aside from run I’d rather just enjoy one last night of carnal pleasures and then run.”
The two archangels and Crowley and Aziraphale stopped and stared at each other. Then Michael lunged for Crowley and grabbed the demon’s neck.
“Infidel!” He screamed. “Blasphemer! Traitor to the light!”
Crowley gasped, clasped his hands over Michael’s, and tried to pry out of the Archangel’s grasp. Aziraphale rushed to part them but Michael freed one hand and knocked the Principality back several feet into the wall.
Crowley made a dry, raspy noise, unable to hiss due to a lack of air. He clawed Michael’s face. Startled, the Archangel let go of the demon and staggered backwards.* Crowley hardly had time to stand before Michael started for him again.
“Michael!” Aziraphale ran between the two, waving his hands about frantically. “Stop!”
“I will tear your wings off as well!” Michael screamed.
Raphael emitted a pulse of light from his body. “Calm yourselves.”
Michael slouched then blinked. “What- what was I doing again?”
Aziraphale turned back to look at his demonic companion, who lay peacefully on the floor. “Crowley!” He turned to Raphael. “What did you do?”
“He is asleep, though he can hear and comprehend all that we say. I also rendered Michael incapable of violence until we sort this out.”
“I- I am not incapable of violence,” Michael said blankly. He quirked his eyebrows in confusion. “Am I?”
Aziraphale appraised the Angel of Israel. “Yes I see, very good work.”
“Thank you. Now, why are you protecting the enemy?”
“I wouldn’t call Crowley the enemy. Sa’tan is trying to kill him.”
“For what?”
“For uhm, doing good?” Aziraphale tried.
Raphael stared. Aziraphale blushed. “That is, well, I’ve rather been working on turning to our side so-”
“Very well, Michael will not harm the demon. Do you understand that, Michael?”
“I… do.” Michael wrinkled his nose. “Why am I feeling warm and fluffy?”
“I rather like him better this way,” Aziraphale commented.
Raphael emitted another pulse of light and Michael’s dazed look vanished. He turned to his coworker. “Never do that again!” he screeched. “Do and I will rip you limb from limb!”
“Of course, Michael.”
Michael grunted and rubbed his cheek.
“Let me heal that?” Raphael asked. Michael nodded.
Raphael approached the Archangel and cupped his head with his hands. He leaned forward and kissed his cheek languidly, running his tongue over the abrasion.**
Michael moved his face so that Raphael’s lips grazed his, and his arms wrapped around Raphael and felt the base of his back.
Crowley and Aziraphale stared.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale began. “Do you think… we should leave them alone?”
“Do you want them to have sex in your book store?”
“That’s a very good point.”
*It should be noted that while under normal circumstances, demons are not affected by strangulation and angels are not injured by scratched faces, it should also be noted that under normal circumstances (contrary to popular religious belief), angels and demons are not engaged in battles of monumental, or in fact trivial proportions. At least, not physically.
**It is well known that angels possess healing powers. It is not as well known that said healing powers come from kisses. Jesus didn’t just spit on the blind man’s eyes for entertainment value (though that was a plus).
****
Beelzebub clasped his hands over his body’s breasts, pulling the neckline of his tight, red dress down. One popped out and Beelzebub blessed and tried to shove it back into place.
“There will be plenty of time for that later,” Lucifer smirked, a golden crown glimmering in his grin. “I should visit above more often if this is what they wear up there.”
“In the red dizztricts anyway,” Beelzebub grunted and the breast fit back into place. “I don’t understand how women handle thezze.”
Lucifer gave a riotous laugh, came up from behind the demon, and grabbed his chest. “Oh, but I do.”
Beelzebub gave an uncharacteristic frown at this and he observed Lucifer’s outfit with a sulking face. “I should be a pimp, too.”
Lucifer squeezed Beelzebub’s nipples and the demon yelped in pain. “I’m the only pimp here, whore. I came up here for torture, not sex.”
Beelzebub wasn’t sure if Lucifer simply had a mood swing or was reminding himself. The demon’s high heels skittered as he ran to keep up with the Adversary.
They trailed the demon’s aura for hours, exacting disdainful (and in some cases envious) stares from old ladies, and some lustful gazes from passing men. Suddenly Lucifer stopped Beelzebub, who had been bitching nonstop from the bleeding blisters on his cramped feet.
“It fucking hurt- what?” Beelzebub looked at the bookstore. He laughed. “No, no, he can’t be in there.”
“You said he was with an angel.”
“Oh fine, and if you’re wrong we can have some fun anyway.”
“I am not wrong,” Lucifer growled and pounded the door down with his fist. They followed the aura upstairs.
“Oh fuck, Crowley, please!”
The two demons froze, then grinned. Lucifer opened the door in front of him and they were two steps into the room before they realized what they were seeing.
Aziraphale lay on a bed, the white sheets twisted from movement and his hands fisted the material, and his naked body stretched and convulsed with each pulse of his aching, prominent...
“Ohhhh…” Beelzebub moaned.
Crowley’s breath hitched, his eyes slid from the object of his attention to the figures in the doorway. He didn’t move. It was virtually impossible for him to, as his tongue coiled around Aziraphale’s cock several times.
“Crowley,” Lucifer said. “Due to your… accomplishments, I’ve decided to give you immunity for your previous actions.”
Beelzebub made to say something but only gave out another moan.
“Carry on.” Lucifer grabbed Beelzebub by the arm and forcibly removed him from the room. “Beelzebub, there are some things I’d like to try with my tongue.”
Title: And He Could Do Really Weird Things with His Tongue
Gift recipient: lady_oneiros
Author: lovessacrifice
Summary: Lucifer and Beelzebub plot to take Crowley back to hell for punishment. Crowley/Aziraphale, Michael/Raphael, Lucifer/Beelzebub, Hastur
Rating: R
“The trap hast been set.”
“You shall be rewarded for this, Hastur.” Beelzebub outlurked even his companion. “Soon Crowley will come and-”
“My master!” Hastur whispered and they both fell silent as a Bentley pulled up in the driveway with two beings of celestial origin inside. Hastur and Beelzebub became even more silent, if possible, when they saw what the two beings were doing now that the car was parked.
Beelzebub’s flaming eyes widened. “…Did you know he could do that with hizz tongue?”
Hastur stared, then mentally shook himself. “I can do more interesting things with my tentacles,” he sneered.
“Perhapzzz,” Beelzebub ignored Hastur to leer at the scene in front of them. “He is a more powerful demon than we thought.”
“Master, he prevented the Apocalypse. He disobeyed our Lord’s orders.”
“Yezz, but if he can zzeduce an angel he may be of use.”
“But,” Hastur protested, “I refuse to disarm the trap.”
“Of courzze not.” Beelzebub stared at the way Crowley was fondling the angel. “He’ll be dizcorporated and then we will deal with him.”
“I still want to torture him.”
“All right, but not for too long. It would be a shame if he forgot thozzze… talents.”
“They are going inside.”
****
“Mm,” Crowley pressed Aziraphale against the wall, busy making what would surely be a hickey on his divine lover’s neck.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale’s legs wrapped around the demon’s waist, his body supported by the demon.* “This really should wait until we’re inside your flat.”
“No time for that, angel.” Crowley’s tongue played with Aizraphale’s earlobe.
“My dear, we’re right next to the door.”
“Stop being sensible.” Crowley snarled but he shifted to the side so that Aziraphale was propped on the door instead of the wall. He then went back to ravishing the angel.
“Crowley…”
“It’s a compromise. You said for this to work we’d need to compromise.”**
“With all the times you’ve propositioned me in public I do think you want our superiors to find out about this.”
Crowley grumbled and eased the door open.
A clear liquid fell all over Aziraphale’s face. Crowley gasped and threw the angel to the floor, and walked back into the wall behind him, putting as much distance between them as possible. He glanced about the room before setting his eyes on Aziraphale again.
“Crowley, what the hell are you doing?” Aziraphale stood and started walking to Crowley.
“Stop!” Crowley threw his hands up in front of him, signaling Aziraphale to stop. “It’s holy water.”
“Holy water?” Aziraphale blinked and wiped his face with his hand, examining the drops trickling down his fingers. “It is.” He said, mildly surprised.
“Did your people do this?” Crowley demanded.
“No.” Aziraphale miracled the water away. “Not that I know of.”
“Check the rest of my flat, I don’t want to be incinerated when I lie down or- shit! My Bentley!” Crowley dashed down the stairs.
“Oh dear.” Aziraphale followed the demon.
*Fortunately, angels can be feather light when need be.
**Granted, Aziraphale had said this when the demon cornered him in the bedroom with chains and other items the angel didn’t want to see used on anyone at any time, let alone on him during an intimate moment.
****
“What?” Hastur gasped when Crowley ran out of the building and to his automobile.
“Hastur.” Beelzebub’s trench coat started to tear at the seams. “You have failed.”
“The bastard,” Hastur blessed. “The angel must have sensed something.”
“It doezz not matter.” Beelzebub’s sleeves ripped off. “I will deal with him now.”
Hastur abandoned lurking and went straight to hiding when he realized Beelzebub’s clothes weren’t poorly formed but in fact Beelzebub’s form was swelling.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale halted behind the demon. “Don’t touch it! It might be-”
“It’s fine. They didn’t-” Crowley realized the light in from of him wasn’t from a street lamp.
A figure of flame grew with each deliberate step toward the demon. “Crowley,” It boomed. “I have come for you.”
Crowley gaped. He was vaguely aware of Aziraphale swearing. There was no way out of this one. Lucifer himself had sent Beelzebub. Even if he ran, it would only be delaying the inevitable.
Still, it’s not like demons sat around waiting to be dragged down to hell and tortured.
Crowley leapt over the car door and into the driver seat. “Get in, angel!” he yelled, starting the engine. But after Aziraphale dove into the car, for once Crowley’s demonic powers were not cooperating. The car tinkered and sputtered and shook as violently as Crowley was.
“It izzz no use, Crowley.”
“Drive you fucking useless bitch!” Crowley screamed and hit the wheel with his hand. The Bentley sped into the distance. Crowley gasped. “Sorry,” he patted the car’s interior fondly. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“Oh dear.” Aziraphale stared behind them.
“Oh dear?” Crowley looked over his shoulder, narrowly avoiding crushing several people on the sidewalk. “The Virgin Mary,” Crowley blessed.
Rather than being a tiny flash of light in the distance, Beelzebub was several yards behind them and showed no signs of tiring. He was yelling obscenities and detailing all the hideous things he would do to Crowley once he had him back in hell.
“He seems to be rather fixated on doing things with your tongue…” Aziraphale pondered.
“You and me both, angel.” Crowley said idly as he urged the Bentley faster.
Aziraphale crawled into the backseat.
“What are you doing?” Crowley snapped.
“Try not to crash the car, my dear. I’m going to try and stop him.”
“Stop Beelzebub? You’re just a Principality!”
“The Lord’s Prayer should slow him.”
“The Lord’s Prayer! Are you fucking mad?!” the demon screamed. “I’d rather take hell!”*
“It won’t be directed to you, dear. You’ll only get a headache,” the angel paused. “All over your body.”
“CROWLEY!”
“Do it, angel!”
“Our father,” Aziraphale spoke in Hebrew.
Crowley winced. Beelzebub screeched damnation at Aziraphale.
“This better be working, angel!”
On the third round, Beelzebub stumbled and his threats faded in the distance.
*And by that he meant he would rather be surrounded by all the angels in heaven chanting the Lord’s Prayer than go to hell.
****
Raphael flipped through the pages of 101 Things a Boy Can Do.
“I thought he had Bibles.” Michael frowned at the room.
“I suppose he changed his mind.” Raphael said loftily before putting the book away.
Michael opened his mouth, and judging by the scrunched, unpleasant look on his face he was preparing to make a snide comment.
The door clattered open.
“Listen angel, if there’s nothing we can do aside from run I’d rather just enjoy one last night of carnal pleasures and then run.”
The two archangels and Crowley and Aziraphale stopped and stared at each other. Then Michael lunged for Crowley and grabbed the demon’s neck.
“Infidel!” He screamed. “Blasphemer! Traitor to the light!”
Crowley gasped, clasped his hands over Michael’s, and tried to pry out of the Archangel’s grasp. Aziraphale rushed to part them but Michael freed one hand and knocked the Principality back several feet into the wall.
Crowley made a dry, raspy noise, unable to hiss due to a lack of air. He clawed Michael’s face. Startled, the Archangel let go of the demon and staggered backwards.* Crowley hardly had time to stand before Michael started for him again.
“Michael!” Aziraphale ran between the two, waving his hands about frantically. “Stop!”
“I will tear your wings off as well!” Michael screamed.
Raphael emitted a pulse of light from his body. “Calm yourselves.”
Michael slouched then blinked. “What- what was I doing again?”
Aziraphale turned back to look at his demonic companion, who lay peacefully on the floor. “Crowley!” He turned to Raphael. “What did you do?”
“He is asleep, though he can hear and comprehend all that we say. I also rendered Michael incapable of violence until we sort this out.”
“I- I am not incapable of violence,” Michael said blankly. He quirked his eyebrows in confusion. “Am I?”
Aziraphale appraised the Angel of Israel. “Yes I see, very good work.”
“Thank you. Now, why are you protecting the enemy?”
“I wouldn’t call Crowley the enemy. Sa’tan is trying to kill him.”
“For what?”
“For uhm, doing good?” Aziraphale tried.
Raphael stared. Aziraphale blushed. “That is, well, I’ve rather been working on turning to our side so-”
“Very well, Michael will not harm the demon. Do you understand that, Michael?”
“I… do.” Michael wrinkled his nose. “Why am I feeling warm and fluffy?”
“I rather like him better this way,” Aziraphale commented.
Raphael emitted another pulse of light and Michael’s dazed look vanished. He turned to his coworker. “Never do that again!” he screeched. “Do and I will rip you limb from limb!”
“Of course, Michael.”
Michael grunted and rubbed his cheek.
“Let me heal that?” Raphael asked. Michael nodded.
Raphael approached the Archangel and cupped his head with his hands. He leaned forward and kissed his cheek languidly, running his tongue over the abrasion.**
Michael moved his face so that Raphael’s lips grazed his, and his arms wrapped around Raphael and felt the base of his back.
Crowley and Aziraphale stared.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale began. “Do you think… we should leave them alone?”
“Do you want them to have sex in your book store?”
“That’s a very good point.”
*It should be noted that while under normal circumstances, demons are not affected by strangulation and angels are not injured by scratched faces, it should also be noted that under normal circumstances (contrary to popular religious belief), angels and demons are not engaged in battles of monumental, or in fact trivial proportions. At least, not physically.
**It is well known that angels possess healing powers. It is not as well known that said healing powers come from kisses. Jesus didn’t just spit on the blind man’s eyes for entertainment value (though that was a plus).
****
Beelzebub clasped his hands over his body’s breasts, pulling the neckline of his tight, red dress down. One popped out and Beelzebub blessed and tried to shove it back into place.
“There will be plenty of time for that later,” Lucifer smirked, a golden crown glimmering in his grin. “I should visit above more often if this is what they wear up there.”
“In the red dizztricts anyway,” Beelzebub grunted and the breast fit back into place. “I don’t understand how women handle thezze.”
Lucifer gave a riotous laugh, came up from behind the demon, and grabbed his chest. “Oh, but I do.”
Beelzebub gave an uncharacteristic frown at this and he observed Lucifer’s outfit with a sulking face. “I should be a pimp, too.”
Lucifer squeezed Beelzebub’s nipples and the demon yelped in pain. “I’m the only pimp here, whore. I came up here for torture, not sex.”
Beelzebub wasn’t sure if Lucifer simply had a mood swing or was reminding himself. The demon’s high heels skittered as he ran to keep up with the Adversary.
They trailed the demon’s aura for hours, exacting disdainful (and in some cases envious) stares from old ladies, and some lustful gazes from passing men. Suddenly Lucifer stopped Beelzebub, who had been bitching nonstop from the bleeding blisters on his cramped feet.
“It fucking hurt- what?” Beelzebub looked at the bookstore. He laughed. “No, no, he can’t be in there.”
“You said he was with an angel.”
“Oh fine, and if you’re wrong we can have some fun anyway.”
“I am not wrong,” Lucifer growled and pounded the door down with his fist. They followed the aura upstairs.
“Oh fuck, Crowley, please!”
The two demons froze, then grinned. Lucifer opened the door in front of him and they were two steps into the room before they realized what they were seeing.
Aziraphale lay on a bed, the white sheets twisted from movement and his hands fisted the material, and his naked body stretched and convulsed with each pulse of his aching, prominent...
“Ohhhh…” Beelzebub moaned.
Crowley’s breath hitched, his eyes slid from the object of his attention to the figures in the doorway. He didn’t move. It was virtually impossible for him to, as his tongue coiled around Aziraphale’s cock several times.
“Crowley,” Lucifer said. “Due to your… accomplishments, I’ve decided to give you immunity for your previous actions.”
Beelzebub made to say something but only gave out another moan.
“Carry on.” Lucifer grabbed Beelzebub by the arm and forcibly removed him from the room. “Beelzebub, there are some things I’d like to try with my tongue.”