Protect what's Mine

for Starlight Dreamer

NSFW: attempted noncon, spanking, (demonic) bondage, orgasm denial, Sugar Daddy (sugar demon) dynamic, D/s dynamic

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Dusk falls. The wide sky above the cottage turns from blue to orange and shadows bleed over the hills in the distance. It’s the perfect atmosphere to sit down with a cuppa and a good book, waiting for night to fall.

However, Aziraphale is peckish. Desperately, he craves his favourite sushi which is only available in London. As an angel, he could just miracle it into existence, but it wouldn’t be the same. To his fortune, being an angel also means he can easily travel to London.

Aziraphale steps into the garden. He wants to ask Crowley to join him, visiting their old home for dinner. But he finds the demon napping. With a warm smile on his face, Aziraphale watches Crowley who lies curled up in the grass, apparently having fallen asleep while catching the last bits of the sun.

For a moment, Aziraphale hesitates. He promised Crowley to always tell him when he leaves and where he goes. But seeing his beloved nap so peacefully in that little piece of Eden he has made for himself, Aziraphale can’t bring himself to wake him. After all, he won’t be long. Getting to London, buying sushi for himself and Crowley and returning will take no longer than half an hour. Probably less. 

So Aziraphale leaves a featherlight kiss on Crowley’s cheek and goes back into the house. He grabs his coat and Crowley’s purse. Then he snaps his fingers and creates a portal to the little alley behind his favourite sushi place in London.


Aziraphale feels warm and happy. Seeing the chef’s face light up as he greets his favourite customer is lovely. Afterwards, he waits for the man to fix his menu to go and chats with the waitress about his new life in the South Downs.

“Was about time that you and your redheaded friend figured it out,” she says with a mischievous smile.

Blushing, Aziraphale nods. “For quite a while, the circumstances were less than ideal,” he says. “But now that we can be together, we make the most of it.”

“That’s good.” She puts a hand on his arm and smiles. “We miss you here, but we’re all very happy for you. You deserve this.”

“Thank you, dear.”

In the end, it takes a tad longer than half an hour due to the nice conversations. But in the end, he leaves with a big smile on his face and his sushi.

But when he steps into the alley to create a portal home, he freezes. A group of three men block his path. Two of them crowd the third, a young man of maybe 20 years, against the wall, smirking at him while fear dominates his face. One of the attackers has a hand on the captive’s throat while the other plays with the hem of his shirt.

“Please,” the young man says. “I… I don’t want this.”

“Then you shouldn’t have teased us, boy,” says one of the other two, an ashblond man with a lightly tanned face. 

“Yeah, Billy!” The other, a brunette with wild curls, smirks. “Never advertise what you aren’t willing to sell.”

“I never meant to... I was just dancing and flirting.”

“Hmm, don’t play innocent, boy.”

As one harasser starts unbuttoning the young man’s shirt, Aziraphale throws his sushi bag at the attacker’s head. 

“Unhand the boy at once!” he shouts and rushes to the group.

He pulls the men away from their victim. They are too surprised to react and Billy escapes. In panic, he runs out of the alley and disappears. Aziraphale’s relief is short. Because soon he now finds himself pressed against the cold stone with a very angry man snarling in his face.

“What to do with you, little do-gooder, hm?” asks the blond, suddenly producing a knife.

“Ruined our fun,” hisses the brunette.

“Let go of me,” Aziraphale says. “I’m warning you.”

The men laugh.

“He’s warning us!”

“How cute.”

“You know what. He is cute…”

“Yeah, different type, but… I like the chubby ones.”

“Hmm.” The blond pushes Aziraphale’s coat open. “There is something to be said about those curves.”

Angry, Aziraphale shoves the man. The next moment, he feels a biting pain in his chest. He yells and looks down, seeing the knife coated in his own blood.

The brunette opens his mouth to say something. But a whooshing sound behind them distracts the attackers and they turn. Both choke out a scream and jump backwards when they see the blood red whirl that has appeared in the alley. As a furious looking redhead in dark clothing steps out of the vortex, they want to flee. But an invisible force grabs them and slams them against the wall.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says relieved. “I’m so glad that…”

“Not sure you have reasons to be glad, angel,” Crowley growls, snatches Aziraphale’s wrist and pulls him through the portal.

When Billy returns with two people from the restaurant he got to help, they are confused. They only find an abandoned bag with spilled sushi and two unconscious wanna-be rapists.


At home, Crowley all but throws Aziraphale on the bed. With a furious expression, he lets his powers flow into the angel’s wounds, closing it, not leaving the tiniest mark. 

“Thank you, dear,” Aziraphale says.

“Shut the fuck up, angel!”

“Crowley! Language!”

Harshly, Crowley grabs Aziraphale’s hair.

“What were you thinking?” Crowley hisses.

“Look, I see that you’re mad…”

“How dare you do that to me?” Crowley whispers, half threatening, half vulnerable. “I woke up, not feeling you around and when I spread my sense it took forever to find you and when I finally did feel you, there was fear!”

“I’m sorry, dearest, I just wanted sushi and waking you for that seemed…”

“How does sushi lead to you in the clutches of those men?”

“Ah, yes, they attacked a young man and I threw the sushi at them before I…”

“And why didn’t you smite those bastards on the spot?” Crowley interrupts him. “You’re an angel and they attacked you, They could’ve been dust within a heartbeat!”

“Oh well, I wanted to give them a chance to think better of it and…”

Crowley growls. It’s a low sound of frustration and anger. Aziraphale yelps when Crowley uses his grip on the blond curls to pull, hard.. Only seconds later, Crowley is straddling him, snarling in his face. 

“How dare you?” he repeats. 

“How dare I what?” Aziraphale gives back sarcastically. “Being an angel, protecting people and thinking twice before killing them?”

“There was no need to take that risk and get hurt,” Crowley insists. “So how dare you endanger what’s mine?”

Crowley pins Aziraphale’s wrists on eye level. At the same time, he presses their lips together roughly. With his eyes fluttering shut, Aziraphale goes pliant in Crowley’s hold. He parts his lips, allowing the clever, forked tongue to slither in.

With a deep and filthy kiss, Crowley claims Aziraphale’s mouth. Groaning, they rub their crotches against each other while Crowley’s tongue finds the angel’s. Aziraphale feels wetness blossom between his legs as Crowley’s grip tightens and his sounds become greedier. He sucks at Aziraphale’s bottom lip, lets his teeth scrape along the cupid bow and digs his nails into Aziraphale’s shoulders.

After a while, Crowley breaks the kiss. Whining at the loss of contact, Aziraphale tries to follow. But Crowley harshly pushes him back down. He snaps his fingers and the shadows in the room come to life and take a sturdy form. Like black tentacles they slither across the walls and the floor to wrap around Aziraphale’s wrists and ankles. 

“You didn’t think you’d get away so easily, did you?” Crowley says in a dark tone, but softly he asks, “Colour, angel?”

“Green, sir,” Aziraphale whispers.

The demonically powered shadows pull Aziraphale upwards. His arms in the air, his knees barely touching the mattress, he dangles in front of Crowley. Crowley smiles wickedly and with another snap of his fingers, Aziraphale’s clothes disappear.

Aziraphale draws in a sharp breath. The sudden contact of cool air with his bare skin came unexpectedly. But when Crowley rounds the bed and strokes over Aziraphale’s arsecheeks with an appreciative hum,  all discomfort is forgotten.

The first slap is light. Aziraphale enjoys the tingling sensation. The next one is harder, but still not even close to painful. What follows is a series of slaps across the other cheeks and the repetition smarts a bit. A little moan escapes him.



Crowley makes a satisfied noise. Now he randomly alternates between the cheeks. Never does Aziraphale know where the next hit will land and the force increases. Biting his lips, Aziraphale imagines the white skin on his butt turning pink at first, fiery red later.

He loses himself in the sensation between pain and pleasure. Crowley’s voice is far away.


“Disobedient brat.” 

“What were you thinking?”

The words wash over Aziraphale. But they don’t really register as he is too lost in Crowley’s harsh touches. Slaps are raining down, involving his thighs by now. Aziraphale throws his head back and moans loudly. 

Crowley freezes. Roughly, he grabs Aziraphale’s hair and pulls to make Aziraphale face him. Snarling, he studies his angel’s features. With a dopey smile on his lips, Aziraphale looks back.

“I’m getting the feeling, this isn’t a punishment at all,” Crowley says.

Quickly, Aziraphale schools his expression into a frown and pouts. “Oh, but it is, sir! I’m terribly discomforted.” 

With a fond smirk, Crowley shakes his head. He presses a kiss on Aziraphale’s lips and snaps his fingers. Aziraphale shrieks when his shadowy bounds pull him back into the mattress, holding up his arms and spreading his legs.

Crowley puts a warm and firm hand on Aziraphale’s thigh. “I think I’m switching the nature of the punishment.”

Aziraphale shivers. Even though Crowley has touched him countless times, the demon’s fingertips still send jolts of pleasure through Aziraphale’s body. The clever hands slide over the curve of Aziraphale’s stomach until they reach the broad chest. None too gently, Crowley pinches the angel’s left nipple and chuckles when Aziraphale bucks and gasps.

Tenderly, Crowley wipes his thumb across Aziraphale’s bottom lip. Aziraphale understands, obediently opening up for Crowley’s finger to slide inside. Sighing pleasantly, Aziraphale takes the long digit into his mouth, sucking eagerly. With a smug smile, he acknowledges Crowley’s groan, amused to have broken the demon’s cool demeanour for a moment.

Crowley raises a brow. Locking eyes with Aziraphale, he withdraws from his mouth and puts his hand on Aziraphale’s chest. Crowley teases the two pink nipples with his wet finger, grinning at the effect it has. Soon Aziraphale’s breath quickens and Crowley keeps going, alternating between caressing and pinching. 

With a soft expression, Crowley watches the rise and fall of Aziraphale’s chest for a while. Then he puts both his hands on Aziraphale’s side, letting them slide down and meet each other at Aziraphale’s pubic mound.

He just keeps them there. Self-complacent, a small smile tugging at his lips, he looks at Aziraphale. Aziraphale does his best not to be provoked, but it becomes harder with every second. In the end, he whimpers, rolling his hips to seek friction.

Smirking, Crowley tsks. Deliberate and torturously slow, his hands slide along Aziraphale’s upper legs, spreading them with tender force, then wander back along the inner thighs. Expectantly, Aziraphale tenses. But Crowley stops abruptly when he’s almost reached Aziraphale’s folds.

Crowley’s fingers gently brush over the outer labia. The touch sends a shiver through Aziraphale’s body and draws a small whine from his lips. Carefully, Crowley spreads the sensitive folds to seek out Aziraphale’s entrance and the warm wetness around it.

As far as his restraints allow, Aziraphale parts his legs wider, hoping that easier access would get Crowley to hurry up. But the knowing smile on the demon’s face suggests otherwise. Crowley is not in a hurry. 

“Crowley, please,” Aziraphale begs.

But Crowley has no mercy. “Sorry, angel,” he says. “I had a very exhausting evening with all the rescuing and healing. I get to have my fun now.”

Taking his sweet time, he teases, lets his fingertips dance between the opening and the clit. Satisfied, he watches his angel writhe under his ministrations and laughs softly at every whine and moan.

Aziraphale presses his eyes shut. In frustration, he bites his lips while Crowley tortures him. Over time, Crowley has perfected to give Aziraphale just enough pleasure to keep him on edge without granting release. 

Succumbing to his fate, Aziraphale tries to relax. The soft touches are enjoyable, even if not satisfying and bit by bit he sinks into the sensations, getting his pleasure out of them.

Suddenly, one long finger glides into him. In surprise, Aziraphale cries out, overwhelmed by the touch that is so real, so direct, so different from the teasing before. These movements are in earnest. Crowley fucks Aziraphale with his fingers, expertly stimulating the bundle of nerves inside, yet knowing full well how to keep Aziraphale from climaxing.

Aziraphale arches his back. Desperately, he tries to change the angle, to get Crowley to touch him where he needs it. But he is too restricted by the demonic bonds. So while Crowley’s fingers, featherlight, flutter around Aziraphale’s clit without ever touching, all Aziraphale can do is moan, pant and beg. And beg he does.



“I’m sorry!”

“Let me cum, please!”

His voice is hoarse. Still, he cries out in surprise and bliss when Crowley brushes across the little nub with a knuckle. 

“Yes, yes, please,” he whines when Crowley repeats the movement several times.

Too soon, Crowley withdraws. But when Aziraphale opens his eyes, Crowley’s clothes are gone and the demon climbs onto the mattress. Roughly, he spreads Aziraphale’s legs and positions himself. The tip of his large cock lies promising against Aziraphale’s hole, making the angel shiver and pant. Crowley, however, remains still.

His voice is softer now. But still there is a strict undertone to it when he speaks, “You can’t go around, risking your safety, angel. We’re cut loose. Getting new bodies is way harder now. And I need you. You’re mine. I won’t allow you to leave me. Understood?”

“Yes, understood,” Aziraphale answers breathlessly, hips still twitching, seeking friction. “It… It won’t happen again, but please, Crowley, I need… ahhh…”

Aziraphale sobs in relief when Crowley finally enters him. Even though he is sopping wet already, Crowley’s impressive girth stretches him, deliciously tethering on the brink of painful. For a moment, Crowley waits to let Aziraphale adjust. But soon, he starts moving, setting a punishing pace from the beginning.

“Who’s in charge?” Crowley asks.

“You, sir.”

“Whose are you?”


“What exactly?”

Aziraphale blushes and hesitates. It earns him a specifically harsh thrust that has him cry out.

“Your… your little plaything.”

“Exactly!” Crowley growls. “So who is allowed to touch you?”

“Only you!”

“Good angel.” Crowley rolls his hips and bends down to kiss Aziraphale. Again, his talented tongue sneaks into Aziraphale’s mouth while his arms hold on tighter. At the same time, he increases speed and force of his thrusts. The amalgam of sensations washes over Aziraphale, finally granting him release.

He cries out, clenching around Crowley’s cock. Only a moment later, he feels hot cum flow into him as Crowley follows him over the edge.

“Mine,” Crowley rumbles and digs his teeth into Aziraphale’s shoulder.

Wildly, he rides out his pleasure, fucking Aziraphale hard through their shared climax. When they both finally come down from their high, the shadows lose their mass and slither back where they belong. Crowley grabs Aziraphale and pulls him close. Sweetly, he kisses the sweat damp curls of his angel and holds him tight. Soon, sleep claims them both.


Aziraphale slowly awakes. Something is brushing over his cheeks. It’s such a soft touch that at first he believes it’s the wind or he is imagining it completely. But when he finally shakes sleep enough to open his eyes, he looks into the amber irises of Crowley. An expression of concern and guilt lies on Crowley’s handsome features while he tenderly strokes Aziraphale’s cheek.

“Hey,” Aziraphale whispers. 

“Hey,” Crowley gives back. “Are you okay, angel?”

Brows furrowed, Aziraphale says, “Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well,” Crowley clears his throat. “I was a bit mean, wasn’t I? Got carried away a bit.”

“I didn’t red out,” Aziraphale reminds him. “I liked it. I always do. You know this.”

“I know. I just was…,” Crowley gently takes hold of Aziraphale’s hair, “so angry.”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Aziraphale says, tipping his head back for Crowley. “I should be more caref…”

“No, I wasn’t just angry at you. I was angry at those arseholes for attacking you, at myself for letting that happen,” Crowley explains and mouths along Aziraphale’s jaw.

“But you didn’t let it happen.” Aziraphale sighs as Crowley reaches his throat. “You saved me.”

Crowley kisses his neck and hums. “I guess I did,” he sighs. “Still, today is ‘spoil the angel day.”

“Isn’t that every day?” Aziraphale giggles.

“It should be,” Crowley says firmly, and smirks. “Still working on getting everyone’s calendar notified accordingly. Anyway, you stay here. I make breakfast.”

“But then you’ll join me in bed?”

Smiling, Crowley pulls Aziraphale into a kiss. 

“No place I’d rather be.”


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