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aziraphale and crowley on their own are both sinful, but together? they’re downright unholy.
aziraphale’s got you situated on his lap, your back pressed up against chest and his legs locked over yours to keep your thighs spread far apart for the demon sitting on his haunches between them. the angel has your hands locked tight in his, his plump lips pressing soft, gentle, worshipping kisses to the side of your face, your shoulder, your collarbone - everywhere he can reach.
he hushes your whimpers with little titters and reassurances. “quiet, darling, you’ll stir the neighbors. and you want to be good for crowley, now, don’t you?”
meanwhile your demon is licking stripe after stripe up and through your folds, sucking on your clit with an expert tongue that drives you toward the edge. your thighs are littered with his bite marks, and your arousal is smeared across his lips and chin.
those yellow slitted eyes never leave yours - even when yours roll back and your head tips onto aziraphale’s shoulder. but his mouth does leave your cunt, and you whine and babble for more.
“i need her eyes on me, angel,” crowley drawls, and nips your inner thigh when the angel gently holds your chin to direct your gaze back down to his. “there you are, gorgeous. keep it right here, and i’ll give you what you want.”