Fall Into Me

Sometimes the only recourse to being kicked out of eternal paradise is finding the demon who’s been in love with you for thousands of years and letting them remake you in their image.

Content Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (feat. wing kink and wax play), Body Horror (breaking of bones), Religious Imagery

It’s an odd thing to wake up tangled in the power lines. The electric buzzing of the wires should be frying his body, but he supposes God planned for this when He gave Angels hollow bones.

They do have their advantages, though. He is lighter than he looks, something that helped when he fell. His wings were just barely strong enough to slow his descent, though he couldn’t control what direction they sent him in. It’s how he ended up tangled in the wires with no way out.

His wings are pinned to his back at an awkward angle. He can’t get them free, the more he tries the more ensnared he becomes. The ridges of the wire catch on his feathers, painfully pulling them out. Blood smears across his back and he begins to panic.

He needs to get out of there. His wings, his beautiful wings, they’re going to be damaged. The clothes he is wearing tear apart as he thrashes, the rip of fabric mixes with his screams as the sickening crack of feathers breaking fills the air.

The sun has set by the time he stops fighting. The stars above mock him in his struggle. They taunt him, tell him that he is no longer a part of them. That he is no longer in His graces and that is why he is stuck.

I can’t get out on my own, I need someone to help me. His eyes adjust to the lack of light, pupils dilating to take in as much light as they can. The street below him is mostly empty, there are two kids down the way. Humans, or else they would have heard him scream. But there’s another figure, someone much closer looking directly up at him.

They’re the reason he fell, the demon that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about — stop craving — for millennia. He groans, of course they had to be here. He shouldn’t be surprised, they always seem to pop up wherever he goes.

It’s a good thing, he supposes. Because that means there is someone that can help him down. He can’t see what they are doing, the lit candle they are holding burns his eyes.

The only thing he can see is their red eyes, they nearly glow with the reflection of the dancing flame.

Those damned eyes, the ones that he can feel as they rake over his body every time he steps foot out of heaven. The eyes that follow his every movement, take up his every thought. They have even invaded his dreams, where they tempt him into sin.

They are far away, a blurred speck on the ground below him. But their voice carries itself on the wind as if it were a part of the heavens itself.

“You look a bit stuck, do you need help?”

Before he can answer, they set the candle in their hands down and spread their wings. It takes just a moment before they are set on the wires next to him. He lets them work on disentangling his limbs while he takes in every detail of their scraggly wings.

His arms are freed first and the first thing he does with them is reach out for them. He wants to touch them, wants to know how they feel. Do their wings feel like his? That’s not possible, they can’t be as soft. His wings were a gift from God himself.

His fingertips just barely graze the edge of the softest feather he has ever felt when he plummets to the ground. He lands hard, the air leaves his lungs. His wings crack and break below him, the pain floods his every nerve.

Tears flood his vision as he heaves. He tries to roll over, but the attempted movement makes the pain worse. It’s not long before he feels himself being picked up, the demon’s strong arms hook underneath his knees and back.

He cries out as he is cradled to their chest. The now useless wings drag like a dead weight below his body and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it HURTS.

The world fades to black around him, and when he comes to again he is being laid down on a soft mattress. He buries his face in a pillow and his wings splay out across the bed. The pain has dulled, this new position takes the weight and pressure off the broken appendages.

That doesn’t mean they’re any less sensitive, though. Something he finds out as clawed fingers trail down the skin between the broken wings. They bring pain, yes, but this pain is different. This pain is one that feels so good in a way that he never knew was possible. He moans as he wonders what else he has missed out on in his millennia of holiness.

“You’re so pretty like this, covered in blood and lying in my bed,” the demon whispers, their warm body pressed against his back. A shiver runs down his spine at the words, an unfamiliar warmth collects in the pits of his stomach.

Their hand is hot, it burns his skin as it traces a path down his side and over the swell of his ass. They don’t stop even as they reach the warmth between his legs — the one area of his body that not even God dared to touch.

“Look how wet you are for me. I thought you couldn’t sin but here you are, dripping for me.”

He presses his hips back into their hand. This is what God wanted the Angels to abstain from? This bliss, this is something he could have had at any point in the past millennia? Oh how misguided he was.

He whines as they pull their hand away from him, sitting back onto his legs so that they are no longer pressed up to him.

“Are you sure this is something you want?” The tone of their voice is serious as they speak. “This is something that you will not be able to recover from. By crossing this line, you will fall.”

“If I shall fall, then I shall fall into you,” he grits out. They don’t know he’s already been cast out. There is no returning for him, he might as well indulge.

He looks up at the demon over his shoulder, his eyes burning in a way they never have before. “Take everything of me and make it yours.”

There is a gleam of hunger in their eyes and it excites him. Nearly as much as the hard press of their excitement against his legs. But it’s his next words that set everything in motion.

“Make me worthy of you.”

The demon’s breath hitches, their eyes shine with something unreadable before lust swallows them. Any hesitation they had evaporates as they begin moving against him. Their hardness haunts him, teases him.

“How did I get so lucky,” they lean down to growl in his ear. They nip at his earlobe and oh God does it feel good.

Every tease of their sharp teeth against his neck makes him more excited, he wishes they would bite. He follows his instinct and stretches his neck as much as he can, giving them easier access to the area.

He lets out a shaky breath as their arm wraps around him, as their hand enters his warmth. They rub lazy circles there and he’s gone. He rocks his hips back into them, begging for more. His muscles spasm as he pleads, “Please, oh God. Please!”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, his pleasure is ripped away as they pull their hand back. He whimpers at the loss.

“Don’t say His name,” the demon growls. “Tonight, I am your God.”

He peaks over his shoulder as he hears them adjusting their clothes. They remove their belt and use it to bind his arms behind his back. The leather holds his biceps secure, providing a slight lift to his limp wings.

The movement causes him to moan, but that moan quickly morphs into a scream as they dig their clawed fingers into the skin at the base of his wing. His back arches as he desperately tries to get away, but he can barely move with his arms bound and their weight on his back.

Tears stream down his face, why are they hurting him?

“Now let me hear you say it. Who is your God?” His mind is foggy and his vision is blurred. He can’t feel anything but their fingers in his skin and their hardness against his ass.

“You,” he gasps. “You are my God.”

The demon above him gives him no reprieve as they twist their hand into his broken feathers. It’s less pain this way and a coil of pleasure joins the pain as they card their fingers through the soft plumage.

He feels a rumble deep in his chest at the motion, the release of pain is almost dizzying. He’s breathless, he’s never felt like this. Never felt like he was flying even when he was firmly planted on the ground, never felt so Holy.

The last of his breath is squeezed out of his lungs as the demon presses him further into the mattress, leaning their full weight on his back as they grab a lit candle off the nightstand.

“Now, we’re going to have a little fun. If, at any point, you want me to stop you need to tell me. Understood?”

He nods, though he doesn’t think he would ever want them to stop. They could ruin him, tear him limb from limb, and he would thank them for it.

“Good boy,” they purr. “Now let’s warm you up.”

The words are punctuated by drips of hot wax hitting his skin. It burns for just a moment before his skin pulls taut and it dries. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, but oddly pleasant. That is, until the wax drips on his broken wings.

The pain is delicious. It’s as if his purity is being burned away by the wax and replaced by their sin. He gladly accepts that. They are taking him apart and remaking him with every drop of wax that splashes on his wings.

He’s never wanted before, but now he wants to scream. Wants to let the universe know who he is and who he belongs to. He wants to worship the demon, revere them for recreating him. He wants, he wants, he wants.

Just when he thought it couldn’t get any better, he feels them rut against his heat. Their jeans are gone, leaving them bare as they move against him. There are ridges along their shaft that pique his curiosity.

When he looks over his shoulder once more he is met with metal decorating their member. He salivates at the sight, what are those? Why would they alter the form that was given to them by Him?

But then he knows. He knows what they are for as the demon enters him. Each piece of metal hooks against him as they thrust in. It causes him to see stars. He wants to cry out, wants to tell them that it hurts.

They don’t slow, their thrusts brutally push him further into the mattress. Tears stream down his face and mix with the spit already polling on the pillow.

There’s so much happening, so many stimuli he has never experienced before. The metal he can feel as it moves within him, the punishing force of their hips into his, the burning of the wax on his wings, their fingers digging into his hip and pulling him back into them.

He doesn’t know how much more he can take, uncomfortable warmth is pooling deep within him. This isn’t enough for them, though, as they blow out the candle and toss it to the side. They use their now free hand to reach below him, wrapping their large claws around his throat and pulling his body off the mattress.

His wings are pinned between their bodies, his hands flatten against their lower stomach. There is just enough room for him to spear his hands, grabbing their hips and pulling them in.

The hand around his throat tightens, constricting his airways. He throws his head back against their shoulder, an invitation which they do not hesitate to accept as they press their mouth to the soft expanse of skin.

He gasps, struggling to take in air. His vision is spotty and oh God I’m close.

As if they can hear his thoughts, they bite down hard. Their teeth draw blood as his world explodes into light. He screams, his legs trembling as he comes.

They don’t stop their ministrations. They keep pounding into him and they chase their own pleasure. It’s too much, the stars in his vision turn to pin pricks of pain.

Just as he opens his mouth to demand they stop they release their grip on his throat, shoving two fingers into his mouth. Then, they utter a command that he has no choice but to obey.

“Bite.”

If my God wills it, then I shall give it to Them.

He clamps down around their fingers and his mouth fills with the tang of blood. Their hips stutter as they moan, a warmth filling his insides.

They let go of him and he falls back onto the mattress. The movement rips them from within him. He whimpers at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

Something warm drips out of him, but he’s too tired to try and figure out what it is.

The last thing he remembers before falling asleep is the demon removing the belt from around his arms and leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“You have always been worthy of me, I was just waiting for you to see that you deserved more than what He could give you.”