Work Text:
Aziraphale had to have planned this hare-brained idea herself, Crowley grumbled to himself as he attempted to ride his horse out to the appointed place.
Because, of course, Aziraphale had miracled herself into a damsel in distress because she’d had a craving. Because, of course, Aziraphale couldn’t just crave something mundane, it had to be a whole thing. Because, of course, the crepe incident had set off Aziraphale’s imagination in wild and new directions.
And, of course, Crowley would never let harm come to his angel, or worse, disappoint said angel.
He’d rolled into his room above the local saloon a little before high-noon, just to take a quick nap when he found the note, along with a lock of his Angel’s hair. They’d taken Aziraphale, of course, and it was obviously a trap for him as well, but he wouldn’t- no- couldn’t leave his angel to fend for herself, even if she had some hand in her own kidnapping.
The horse he was riding bucked again. “Hey, hey, easy!” Crowley yelled at the horse as he tried desperately to stay in the saddle. The horse snorted derisively. “I am trying not to take over your mind, show a little respect.”
The horse, named Bentley, continued to walk forward, but not as fast as Crowley would have preferred.
“I can’t wait until transportation gets to a point where it doesn’t have a mind of its own,” Crowley grumbled. The horse then sped up.
Crowley and Bentley approached a cliff, overlooking the scene before them. And it really was an over-dramatic scene. Straight out of some trashy novel… Which Crowley was forced to admit was likely the inspiration for the scene.
There was a posse of bandits, (if five men could be considered a full posse) one of whom had Aziraphale’s hands tied in front of her and was grabbing her by her upper arm. Aziraphale’s ample petticoats and layers blew wildly in the breeze, as did her now tousled curls. Crowley couldn’t quite make out what they were discussing, but after the bandit smacked Aziraphale in the face, Crowley at least knew who was going to die first.
Crowley found a part of the cliff that wasn’t quite as steep and half slid, half walked down it, hiding behind a large boulder.
“ As I was saying ,” the leader of this ‘posse’ said, as another lackey gagged Aziraphale with a bandana. “When this yellow-bellied ‘Crowley’ shows up, he’ll be outnumbered five to one.” The overconfident asshole even had a twirly mustache. Where had Aziraphale found these people? Crowley would feel slightly bad if he killed a bunch of actors Aziraphale had hired. “Now tie her down.”
Crowley frowned in concern. Aziraphale was already tied up. What more could they possibly…
They shoved Aziraphale down onto the conveniently nearby train tracks.
Crowley really should have seen that coming. He smacked his forehead with his palm.
In the distance, he heard a train whistle. Judging by the sound, it was about 3 miles away, but that was as the crow flies, so it could be further away, but this was the only set of tracks in town. Right. Crowley had to act. And act fast.
Reaching for the gun holstered on his hip, Crowley finally emerged from behind the boulder. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Crowley said easily. He kept his hand on the gun’s handle and flicked open the holster in plain view of the men, but made no move to use it, yet.
The men all turned to face him. Crowley did have to admit, he also loved the dramatics of it all. He smirked.
“You’re Crowley?” The leader said, sizing him up.
“Sure am,” Crowley said with his usual swagger. “And you have my Angel.”
Said Angel looked quite cross but incredibly tempting, bound and gagged and on her back if Crowley did say so himself. Maybe there was something to this little game of hers after all.
“Do you have the gold?”
Crowley frowned. “Gold? What gold?”
“The note distinctly said bring her weight in gold,” the taller gent to the leader’s right said. “We wrote it specifically.”
“Her weight in gold?” Crowley sputtered. “You’ve got to be joking!”
“Boss, I told you we should have asked for some sort of good faith down payment,” A younger lad who had primarily hung to the edge of the group mumbled. “Since rustling something up to transport that gold-”
“QUIET!” the boss roared. “Do you have the gold or not?” He asked, turning back to Crowley and reaching for his own hip. Nearer than the first time, the train whistle sounded again.
“I don’t,” Crowley admitted. He whistled long and low. “Though frankly, that’s a good bargain.”
The outlaws looked at each other curiously. “A good bargain?” The leader repeated.
“Aziraphale’s weight in gold?” Crowley asked, slowly stepping forward, closer and closer to the bandits. “Bargain.”
Crowley was now chest to chest with their leader. “How you figure that?”
Crowley smirked. “Easily. Aziraphale is an angel. A literal, honest to g-whoever angel. She is the best thing on this forsaken planet and any paltry sum of your human valuables is a pittance compared to her true value. Nothing else can compare. If you had any idea what you had, you’d be in awe.”
“Then pay us what she’s worth,” said the idiot who had slapped Aziraphale.
Crowley laughed; a hollow, humorless thing. “Oh no,” Crowley said with a tut. “The only payment here,” Crowley said, his hand moving back to the gun at his hip. “Will be with your lives unless you leave right now.”
Good-faith-down-payment boy took off back for town before Crowley could blink if he blinked. The rest drew their guns. Crowley rolled his eyes, even if the posse of bandits couldn’t see his eyes through his shades.
“We’re really doing this, huh?” Crowley asked with a heavy sigh.
The remaining four men cocked their pistols.
Crowley let out a low hiss. Suddenly, from behind every rock, every crack in the dry ground and from behind all the cacti came Crowley’s posse. It wasn’t what an ordinary man would exactly call a posse. But it was Crowley’s posse.
Every single rattlesnake, escaped pit viper, and garden snake from Gumption to Dawson slithered to circle the bandits in a snakey circle.
“One false move,” Crowley said, removing his sunglasses. The idiot who slapped Aziraphale wet himself. “And it will be a slow, painful death for all of you.”
The second in command shot at one of the snakes. He missed, but that didn't matter. The snakes attacked the remaining members of the posse regardless. As the snakes took care of the dirty work, Crowley turned his attention back to Aziraphale.
Aziraphale batted her eyelashes as if she hadn’t concocted this whole scheme.
“You’re proud of yourself aren’t you?” Crowley asked with a scoff. “Arranging this?”
Aziraphale grumbled around the bandana tied around her face and in her mouth.
“Oh don’t give me that Angel, of course, it got out of hand,” Crowley crossed his arms. “That's how these things go.”
Aziraphale rolled her eyes and then grumbled some more.
“No, really , the outlaws didn’t follow the instructions?” Crowley feigned amazement. “I’m shocked. Shocked. I'll tell you. Shocked.”
The average person could not pout with a gag in while tied to train tracks. Aziraphale was not your average person.
“I should let you sit here for a good long while, in this heat,” Crowley said, leaning against a conveniently placed boulder. “Let you stew and think about what danger you’ve put yourself in this time.”
On cue, the train whistled again. And this time both Crowley and Aziraphale could see it heading straight for them.
Aziraphale’s grumbles turned to plaintive whining.
“Oh, now you want out of the life-threatening peril?” Crowley scoffed. “Isn’t that convenient?”
Aziraphale hit him with the full puppy dog eyes. Crowley let her panic for half a second before he snapped his fingers and pulled his power upwards. Suddenly, the train diverted on a brand new parallel track to the one Aziraphale was tied to. They both felt the wind as the train raced by them both. The train kicked up some dirt, spraying them both with a cloud of fine red dust.
Aziraphale’s pout was back, but it was back to her bratty pout.
Crowley tutted again. “Oh no, Angel, that won’t do at all,” Crowley crouched low. “This is reckless, even for you.” Crowley sighed again and looked up. “You can’t scare me to discorporation like that.”
Aziraphale sighed and looked away.
“You know what’s coming don’t you?” Crowley asked. “You know I have to punish you.”
Aziraphale reluctantly nodded.
“Come on then, Angel,” Crowley grabbed one of her arms and freed her from the train tracks. Aziraphale shot him a curious look, as her hands were still bound and she was still gagged. “Oh, no I actually like that, I’m leaving that.” He pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “You’re not the only one who learned a thing or two from the reign of terror.” He licked a wicked stripe up her neck before sucking a purple bruise.
Aziraphale’s eyes twinkled with small, mischievous victory. Crowley let her have that one.
Still, Crowley found a conveniently sized boulder and bent Aziraphale over it. He then placed a smaller rock in one of her hands. “Drop this if it gets to be too much,” Crowley ordered. It wasn’t the first time they had done something like this before and this system had suited them well.
Aziraphale nodded and then seemed to relax against the rock beneath her. Crowley gave her cheek another kiss for listening well. The game was only fun if they both enjoyed it after all.
“Right,” Crowley said, mostly to himself but also to assure Aziraphale he was still there. He began to peel back the layers, and layers, and layers of Aziraphale’s skirt, petticoats, and whatever the fuck else was under here. “Angel, you better not be miracling more layers!”
Aziraphale shook her head vigorously and whined.
“Fashionable, my arse,” Crowley grumbled. He finally flipped up the last layer only to discover a glorious surprise. “Or your fashionable arse as the case may be.” Aziraphale had no knickers, no pantaloons, nothing underneath her skirts. Her beautiful, round ass on full display for him. Crowley glanced up at her face and smiled. “And a lovely effort as well, angel. Quite an exceptional cunt. Wet and waiting.”
Aziraphale’s face lit up, pleased with the compliments.
“That doesn’t mean you’re getting out of your punishment though,” Crowley clarified quickly.
Aziraphale nodded, perhaps a little too vigorously, but Crowley let it pass.
“Ten smacks,” Crowley declared. Normally he’d have her count them aloud, but the gag was really doing it for him. “One for each miserable mile on that horse.”
Crowley ran his hands over Aziraphale’s soft skin and gave each cheek a good squeeze. Crowley was going to enjoy himself.
The only warning he gave Aziraphale for the first slap was removing his left hand from its position. The slap echoed around the small valley they were in. Crowley felt his dick throb at the sweet sound mixed with Aziraphale’s delightful gasp. Each successive swat on Aziraphale’s bum had her squirming more and more. Aziraphale’s moaning though, showed she was enjoying this just as much as he was.
After the tenth swat, Crowley stood back and admired his work. Aziraphale’s cheeks were a beautiful shade of pinkish-red. Both the ones he struck and the ones on her face.
Crowley kept a hand on Aziraphale as he walked around back in front of her. “Ready to head back to my rooms now?”
Aziraphale nodded. Her eyes were watery, as was wont to happen with some of their play. Crowley picked her up and held her close.
When Crowley opened his eyes, he was sitting on his bed, holding Aziraphale close to himself. First, he removed the gag from her mouth.
“Better?”
Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
“So.” Crowley began untying the rope at Aziraphale’s wrists. “Why did you feel the need to endanger yourself this time? Hmm? Another craving?”
Aziraphale’s pout was in full effect now that her mouth was free. “Do I have to say it?” she mumbled.
“Considering I’m genuinely at a loss, yes, you do.” Crowley stroked her cheeks and rubbed away her tear tracks. “Please, Aziraphale. You scared me.”
“I missed you,” Aziraphale whispered. Her tears started anew. “You’ve been stationed over here so long, and I know you’re not the most verbose person, darling, but I hadn’t even received a letter in nearly a decade. And I know that there are so many unsavory types over here. And-”
Crowley shushed her with a gentle kiss to her lips. “Angel,” Crowley said, gently holding her close. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been in contact. I got busy and distracted by work and that’s no excuse. But that also doesn’t mean I’ve ever forgotten about you.”
“But you could have been-”
“Aziraphale,” Crowley said, kissing her again. “I will always come back to you. Always.”
There were no words for a while, just soft, warm kisses and sweet whispered nothings.
“I think, you’re overdue a reminder of my feelings for you,” Crowley said, as they parted for breath that neither of them needed. “What say you?”
“Oh, Crowley darling, please.”
Crowley pulled her in for another intense kiss, tongues and teeth and heat. He pushed her back against the bed. He nipped his way from her lips down her neck and to the neckline of her dress. He bit at her nipple through her dress, drawing the sweetest mewl from his angel’s mouth.
Crowley mouthed and nosed at Aziraphale’s bosom, trying to free those lovely breasts from their confines.
That was taking far too much effort.
Crowley sat back slightly, looking over the mess he’d already made of Aziraphale. Her lips were red and puffy. She had a lovely line of bruises forming from her jaw down to her breasts.
“Is your dress designed to be infuriating?” Crowley asked as he found it blessed near impossible to get to any of the fun bits.
“It’s the fashion,” Aziraphale whined. She seemed to be just as frustrated as she began to pull her skirt and its multitudinous layers up and out of the way. “I didn’t design anything beyond the color.”
Crowley’s gaze was still on her breasts though. “I have an idea.” Crowley grabbed the bodice of the dress and ripped it open. Aziraphale’s breasts spilled forth in the most delightful way.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale’s eyes darted between where Crowley’s hands were and his face. Crowley noted she was not nearly as angry as she sounded.
“I’ll buy you new dresses.” Any and all protest died when Crowley flicked his tongue over her nipple. His lips sealed around the opposite nipple and he used his fingers to massage the one he'd previously given attention. Aziraphale squirmed delightfully under the attention.
Crowley eventually stopped worshipping Aziraphale’s breasts and began to slither down over the layers of skirt, then under the layers of skirt and to the junction of those creamy white thighs.
Crowley usually ate Aziraphale out like a demon starving anyway. But there was something to be said for diving his head under all the fabric. The trapped heat added to the delicious scandal of it all. He briefly imagined taking on his snake form and just living under Aziraphale’s skirts, licking her whenever it struck his fancy.
Crowley started gently, a sweet gentle caress with the forked top of his tongue. He held Aziraphale’s hips still with his hands. Slowly he increased the pressure.
Aziraphale moaned and tried to wiggle closer, but Crowley’s firm grip kept her still.
There were times when Crowley would dive into one of their more intimate encounters with the goal of bringing them both to their peaks as fast as possible. However, they had time on their side for once, and so Crowley took full advantage.
He brought Aziraphale close to climaxing several times. Crowley would back off, kissing and nipping those wonderful, plush thighs.
“I-I” Aziraphale said through heavy gasps. “I’m afraid you're suffocating down there, my dear.”
“What a way to go though,” Crowley said with a laugh before devoting his attention back to her clit.
This time, as Aziraphale’s moans and gasps grew louder and louder, Crowley increased the insistent flicking of his tongue and the suction.
“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned as she reached her peak. Crowley coaxed her gently back down and then sat back, tasting Aziraphale on himself.
“Come here,” Aziraphale begged, reaching her arms toward him.
“Rest now, Angel,” Crowley said gently as he curled up behind Aziraphale on the bed.
She was already nodding off. “But what about-”
“Me?” Crowley scoffed. “Plenty of time for that later. You were right, I had been a neglectful demon, and I fully intend to make that up to you while you’re here.”
Aziraphale fell asleep with a pleased smile crossing her every feature.
Crowley hung up his hat and settled down for a nap beside her. Many years later, if there was a tale about a man in black taking care of the worst band of outlaws ever to come across the small town he was staying in? Well, that was just one of those stories Aziraphale was so terribly fond of, after all.