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#good omens x reader
strangesthirdeye · 3 months
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We could have been a bus
I 'honk honk' you
Don't 'honk honk'
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Crowley: It just doesn’t make sense!
Child!Y/N: *clearly having spent too much time around him and starting to develop his sarcasm* It would if you were smarter
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Imagine. . .
You're falling asleep in Aziraphale's bookshop, feeling warm and safe and spread out over a sofa. There's rain gently tapping against the windows, and it's dark outside. The warm glow of the shop's lighting and the smell of old books surround you as you doze off. Aziraphale has a record softly playing in the background as he's lightly stirring his cup of tea while humming to himself. You know he's sitting at his desk even with your eyes closed because you have the layout of the shop already mapped out in your head. You're nearly in dreamland when you feel a blanket being placed gingerly over you, up to your chin, a slender finger accidentally brushes your cheek while tucking you in. Definitely Crowley.
"Have a dream," he mumbles, mostly to himself, because he can't afford to say 'nice' or 'pleasant'.
You're not sure if you imagine it, but you could've sworn you felt a hand gently brushing a hair out of your face before you completely fall asleep, Aziraphale's humming one of the last things you remember before your consciousness slips.
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buryustogether · 7 months
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thinking about the difference between crowley and aziraphale eating you out.
az practically worships you like his god he is so obedient for, murmuring praises against your trembling thighs as he presses gentle kisses to your clit. he caresses your hips like they were made for him, like art he’s spent a century trying to find, and gently coaxes your orgasm out of you like a lullaby through the dark.
crowley, on the other hand, eats you out like hell is coming to drag him back down when he’s done. he devours you. leaves nothing behind. he’ll suck on your clit until he’s got you crying his name. he’ll grip your hips so hard there will be bruised in the shape of his hands. he’ll plunge his forked tongue into you and hum against your cunt, lapping up everything your orgasm gives him — and more, until you’re quite literally pushing his head away from the overstimulation.
and don’t even get me started on the pair of them together.
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Imagine Aziraphale finding you and Crowley fuming at one another…
The doorbell of the bookstore sang into the air with a delightful sound as the owner had returned from his trip alone. There a sigh of content and homeliness as Aziraphale stepped deeper into the room. He took in the sight, noticing a few stray papers and misplaced books but they were all minor corrections.
Turning to his desk, he saw the trusted pair who he had left in charge - one on the chair and the other leaning against a shelf.
“So, how was your time bonding while I was away?” Aziraphale wondered ever so curiously with an excitable lilt to his voice. His adventure had been a silent plot to enhance corporation between his two friends who had gotten off on the wrong foot and continued down the road.
Without wasting a second, you cast a finger of accusation to the demon lounging on the chair.
“He poisoned me!”
Aziraphale turned to Crowley immediately to hear the explanation but the demon merely waved his glass of alcohol in the air.
“I did not poison you. Not intentionally anyway. It was more of an accidental poisoning.” He more-or-less confessed.
“Oh, Crowley.” The disappointment in the angels voice wasn’t hidden. He had genuinely hoped that the two would have found some common ground to build a steady foundation for trust in his absence.
The angel’s tone struck a chord with the red-haired being who cast an equally accusing finger at his opposition.
“Y/n wouldn’t have been poisoned if they knew not to touch my things.”
You scoffed and crossed your arms. “Oh, please. You’ve been secretly plotting to write me out of this story ever since I foiled your plans of uncontrollable flooding and created the Niagra Falls all those years ago.”
“I’ve been plotting to write you out from the day we met. Believe me.” Crowley sneered back.
“And for what? To have Aziraphale’s undivided attention?”
The book-loving angel felt his face flush at the mention of a battle for his affection. The giddiness swept over his halo allowing him to revel in the feeling until he remembered the heat in the air almost starting to be reminiscent of ‘downstairs’.
“Now, now. I enjoy the company of you both but now I fear leaving you alone for a few seconds. Is it really so difficult to find common interests?”
You and Crowley turned away and looked around the room, pondering an answer. Surely there must have been one thing that you both could agree on?
“We didn’t kill each other while you were out?” Crowley offered.
You snapped your fingers and nodded.
Aziraphale hummed sceptically. “It’s not quite what I was going for but I’ll allow it.”
~ More imagines here ~
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ghoulie-67-baby · 9 months
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Softly now - Good Omens
Summary: Your anxiety has been raging all day, one accident at home makes you snap.
Warnings: Anxiety, depression, panic attack, anxiety attack, angst, crying, blood/wound.
Pairing: Ineffable husbands x Human!reader.
Word count: 1,674.
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To say today had been challenging was an understatement. Nothing particularly bad had happened. The mix of work and anxiety had me in a spiral, wanting to go home and curl up away from the world. After finishing my shift, I trudged home in the pouring rain, the sound of droplets on my hood keeping me grounded. I knew Crowley wouldn't have had any issue picking me up but it felt like a burden and my head was telling me he'd be annoyed if I asked. So I settled for the walk in the dingy weather.
Dodging puddles, I yanked my coat collar around my throat, shivering as raindrops trickled down my face, leaving tear-like streaks on my cheeks. Luckily the bag containing my laptop and books had been miracled by Aziraphale to stay waterproof and protected by any weather. Despite the calm look on my face, the bustle and noise of the streets had my eyes darting around. My heart thundered in my chest as the bookshop came into view, looking as beautiful as ever. I sped up, gasping as people barged into me in their rush.
With clenched, freezing hands, I shoved open the heavy wooden door and huffed out a sigh, slamming it behind me and locking out the world. My forehead reacted against the hardwood as I flipped the sign to 'closed'. I knew nobody would be in the shop, especially if Aziraphale had anything to do with it.
After a few minutes of unmoving silence, I wandered to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. A good cup of tea made everything better. There was no sign of the angel or demon as I walked through our home so I settled for one cup. Moving around the familiar space, my mind zoned out and I was set on autopilot.
I jumped out of my head as the sound of shattering filled the room. Shards of delicate, precious china scattered over the floor the beautiful flower pattern ruined. Anger and irritation flooded through me as I glared at the mess. Tears gathered in my eyes as I rushed to clean it, guilt crawling up my spine.
With trembling hands, I gathered some of the shards together to throw them away whilst trying to ignore the feeling rising man my throat.
"Love, let me take that from you." I froze as the Angel's voice floated through the silence. I hadn't even noticed him arrive home. With a quick shake of my head, I walked to the bin to throw them away but flinched as a large shard sliced my palm.
"Oh Y/N, you've cut your hand now." He tutted, reprimanding my stubbornness but I couldn't look at him. Instead, I trudged to the sink, rinsing the gash with a hiss and wrapping it in a towel. A warm hand rested against my icy shoulder as I watched the blood run down the drain.
"Darling, you need to let us help you." Crowley followed not far behind the angel with a disapproving look on his slender face. I watched silently as he unwrapped the bloody towel and grabbed the first aid kit to clean it properly. By this point, Aziraphale had cleaned up the remainder of the cup and droplets of blood from the tiles.
"You should really be more careful Love," The angel stood making hot chocolate, concern painting his face. I nodded silently, biting back a sob as tears filled my eyes. My chest began to heave as the demon bandaged my palm.
Only when a tear splashed on his hand did he realise the streaks on my face and the heads of my breaths as my good hand clutched the countertop, knuckles turning white. I stared straight ahead at his jacket, frustrated with myself. I squeezed my eyes shut, begging the tears to stop but it only worsened as waves of anxiety and guilt crashed over me.
Crowley caught me by my elbows to steady me as the first sobs escaped, swaying as my senses erupted with overstimulation. With ringing ears, I tried to listen as he spoke but words seemed to bleed into each other.
The only clear sound was my wails and whimpers as I tried to breathe, the room closing on me. Embarrassment filled me as I clawed at Crowley's chest, pulling him as close as physically possible so I didn't feel like I was sinking. Slender fingers passed me to chubbier ones as the blur of beige of Aziraphale's jacket came into view.
"Softly now, Love," he whispered into my ear. My breath caught in my throat as I cried into his chest which I had all but fallen into. The hum of his voice vibrated through my body as his fingers traced patterns on my back, the other hand smoothing down my hair. I couldn't help but feel bad for cuddling him when he was warm and soft and I was cold and soaked but he didn't seem to mind.
Warmth flowed over me and I looked down to find myself in Crowley's black sweater and Aziraphale tartan pyjama pants. I hummed thanks to the angel as my sobs died down into silent tears and hiccups. I clenched my fingers into his waistcoat, knees trembling and head pounding with such ferocity that I felt nauseous.
"Now, Love, whatever managed to get you in this state?" His voice was gentle, ringing softly in my ear, the definition of angelic.
"Rough day is all." My voice was exhausted and small as I muttered against his chest.
"Did something happen, Darling?" I shook my head, taking note of the pissed-off tone in his voice. "You know I'll be the first to punish them if you need me to."
"Nothing happened, 'just been a bad day." I drew patterns on his chest. "All day I've had this niggling feeling in my chest and small things have built up and then when the cup smashed it was just the last straw." I trailed off, new tears dripping off my cheeks. "Didn't mean to break it Azira, just lost focus and-" His soft hushing cut me off as his fingers scratched gently at my scalp.
"You don't need to apologise, Love, as long as your okay." The relief that overtook my system was ridiculously strong and deep down I knew he wasn't really fussed about the cup but I needed to hear it. "It's just a cup. It is replaceable whereas you are not." I dismissed the flush on my cheeks as I pulled away from his chest, looking up at him. Sparkling blue eyes stared down at me with a soft smile as I rubbed my thumb over his cheek.
"Why don't we go and get comfortable whilst our angel finishes that drink, Darling?" I nodded, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale's cheek before taking Crowley's hand and following him to the bedroom.
Flinging his sunglasses on the bedside table, he sat on the edge of the bed. Serpent eyes looked up at me expectantly and though I tried to stop it, my bottom lip trembled. His arms stretched open for me and I fell into them with a cry of anguish.
His slender arms wrapped my legs around him so we were chest to chest, hands holding me tightly around him as I cried into his neck. My cry in the kitchen had been one Of pain, panic, anger and frustration at myself and the world. But this one was relief, pent-up emotion and overwhelming gratitude to my two celestials. I let myself into him, neither of us paying mind to my echoing wails or the tears that soaked his collar. Not even the way my cries shook both of our bodies.
Somehow, none of these things annoyed the demon who merely dismissed it for comforting me. Once I settled down, I lay boneless against him, head on his shoulder and body slouching whilst I caught my breath. I shifted my head to look up at him with puffy, tired eyes. My shaking hand rubbed his cheek, thumb grazing his cheekbone as he smiled down at me, letting his eyes flutter shut.
The shuffle of slippers at the door brought us back to reality but I didn't want to shift. Three steaming cups were placed on the nightstand before the bed dipped beside us.
"Feeling any better Darling?" The softness in the demon's voice caught me off guard for a second. I hummed out a yes, not having the energy for a better response, blinking tiredly as the world finally slowed down.
"Let's hop into bed whilst Crowley gets changed, Love." I nodded, crawling off his lap and flopping dramatically in the middle of the bed, beside a pyjama-clad angel. The fresh hot chocolate was placed in my hands once I sat up. I smiled as the heat seeped into my skin, sighing in delight as the sweet liquid ran down my throat. The two chuckled and Crowley climbed in beside me, gulping down his drink, mostly to appease Azira. The heat didn't bother him, it had no effect against hellfire.
A comfortable silence filled the room as we finished our drinks, basking in each other's company for a few moments. Rather quickly my eyes began to feel heavier. The cup was slipped from my grasp as I wiggled down under the covers, Crowley pressed reassuringly against my back.
"Hey Azira," I whispered, tapping his shoulder hesitantly. "Will you read to me?" The uncertainty dissipated immediately when he broke out in a smile and miracled a book with the flourish of his hand.
"It would be my pleasure, Love, do cuddle down and relax." The three of us got comfortable and I held Crowley's hand that draped over my waist as Aziraphale's voice floated to my ears, and the story began.
All three of us knew I wouldn't last long but he still happily read, knowing it would calm me and I might rest properly. And rightfully so, writhing minutes I had drifted off beside my two favourite beings.
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an-angel2u · 5 months
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just realized anon asks weren’t allowed, it’s fixed!! send in your request!! >_O
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bi-bard · 11 months
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The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted" - Aziraphale & Crowley Imagine [Good Omens]
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Title: The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted"
Pairing: Aziraphale & Crowley X Platonic!Reader
Word Count: 2,071 words
Warning(s): headache, mention of break-up
Summary: In which a struggling college student stumbles upon a demon and an angel, who agree to help in any way they can.
Author's Note: to celebrate the announcement of the release date... and give a little comfort to those who are having a rough time in college right now.
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I had gone to that small bookshop for something to work on a paper.
I had been looking for it online, but nothing was affordable. My best option was going to be to find a small bookshop that didn't charge as much. I simply had my fingers crossed that it would work out.
I must've been walking around with my eyebrows furrowed for a little while because a man walked up to me. He was wearing a beige suit with a-little-too-perfectly white hair. He seemed friendly enough though.
"Can I help you find something," he asked. I paused for a moment. "Sorry, I'm the owner. I can tell you where everything is."
"Oh, okay," I chuckled. I pointed at a part of my paper where my potential sources had been scribbled down. "Um, yes. I'm looking for this... it's for a school paper."
"I see..." he muttered. "Wait here."
I nodded.
I watched him walk behind a set of shelves. There was maybe a minute of waiting before the man walked out again with the book in his hands.
"Oh, you are a lifesaver," I said excitedly. "Thank you! How much?"
He hesitated, staring at the book. As if he grabbed it without thinking about it but now was realizing that he was going to have to part with it.
"How about a deal," he offered after a few moments. "Once you're done with your paper, bring it back here in largely the same condition. No charge and you have no additional clutter to take up space in your home."
I grinned. "Sounds like a deal."
"Well, then, I wish you luck on your paper," he handed me the book
"Thank you," I said. I only took a few steps toward the door before stopping. "I didn't get your name."
He hesitated for a moment before replying, "A.Z. Fell."
"Oh, I thought... Sorry, I assumed this place had been open for a while, so I thought the name on the front was your father or something."
"Afraid not."
"Well, thank you again. I'll see you in a few days."
Which I did.
A few days later, my paper was done, and I walked back into the little bookshop.
"Mr. Fell," I called.
He rounded the corner. "You're back."
"I'm here to return your book," I held up the book as evidence. "Perfect condition."
"Thank you so much," he said as he grabbed it from me. "I hope you get a good grade on that paper of yours."
"Me too," I chuckled. "In all honestly, I don't think I've read it without just a little more of my brain frying."
"Oh no," he mumbled. "I... I could read it over for you. If that would help, of course. I won't force you to give me your paper."
"I... I can't ask you to do that."
"Well, that's precisely why I'm offering," he grinned at me.
I grinned back. "Okay. When would you like me to bring it by?"
"Do you have time now?"
"Um, yeah, sure."
"Here," he led me into a corner of the shop with a small table. "You get your paper put together and I'll make us some tea."
"Okay," I nodded.
As he walked out, I sat down and unzipped my bag, grabbing the binder that held my paper. I also grabbed a red pen just so it was more convenient.
When he came back, he placed a mug in front of me. I grinned and thanked him.
"You can go find a book to enjoy if you'd rather that than watch me read..." he looked at the paper in front of him. "(Y/n)."
"Thank you."
I took his advice. I took the mug of tea and started pacing around the collection of books. I was scanning the spines of the books when the doors of the shop slammed open.
"Angel!"
I jumped at the sound, looking over at whoever had stormed in. Another man, dressed in all black, sunglasses sitting on his face.
"Who are you?"
"(Y/n)," I said. "Who are you?"
"I have told you to not run in here shouting like that," Mr. Fell walked out of the corner that he had been hiding in.
"Who is this," the other man pointed at me.
"I just told you my name," I replied.
"How am I meant to trust you?"
"Why would I lie about my name?"
"Don't know, you tell me-"
"Stop it," Mr. Fell cut him off. "This is (Y/n). I am reading over a paper that they wrote for school."
"Why?"
"Because it's kind," he turned back to me. "(Y/n), this is... Anthony."
"Nice to meet you," I nodded to Anthony.
"Yeah, you too," he muttered, barely paying me any mind as he spoke to Mr. Fell. "We need to talk."
"I am busy-"
"Do I look like I care?"
"I can come back later," I spoke up.
"No, no, please, I promised to read your paper," Mr. Fell stopped me. "Anthony will simply have to wait."
"Excuse me," Anthony snapped.
"You heard me perfectly well," Mr. Fell mumbled. "Please, stay. I'll finish this paper."
Anthony glared at me as Mr. Fell turned around and went back to the table he had been sitting at.
If you had told me that day that the little bookshop was going to become such a place of comfort for me, then I am not sure that I would have believed you.
But it did.
I continued going to that little shop whenever I had the time. I would study, read, or just help with whatever I could help with. Mr. Fell was not a fan of me doing "so much" work around the shop, but I insisted. He had given me a safe space. The least that I could do was help him maintain it.
I grew closer to him as time went on. I even grew closer to Anthony.
Or Crowley, as I soon learned.
I still chuckled from time to time over how they told me their real names. I had been sitting at the table, scribbling notes for one of my courses.
They both stood in front of me silently until I noticed them. I raised an eyebrow at them. That's when they confessed that their names were fake.
When they told me their real names, I felt bad for chuckling. They both looked a bit confused.
"I'm sorry, but... your fake name just used your real name as a last name," I pointed to Crowley and then to Aziraphale. "And yours was your real name with a couple of letters taken out."
"Alright, we get it," Crowley grumbled.
"Thank you for telling me," I added. "I mean it."
"You're welcome," Aziraphale replied. Crowley didn't say the same until Aziraphale looked over at him with a somewhat grumpy look.
The three of us were only closer after that.
It was nice. Having that small support group that I could turn to.
Aziraphale was always ready to help. As soon as I opened the door of the shop, he was ready for whatever assistance I asked for. A hug, an extra set of eyes on an assignment, a quiet place to read a new book.
Crowley acted cold, but I could tell that he cared.
I came in one day with one of the worst headaches I had ever experienced. Aziraphale was gone, but Crowley had been waiting for him. I walked into the building with the heels of my hands pressed into my eyes. After grumpily explaining what was happening, I walked off to put my bag down and hide in the corner.
He waited for a moment before following me.
"Come here," he said.
"What," I asked.
"Come here," he repeated, holding his arms open.
I kept my eyebrows furrowed as I stepped forward. Once I was close enough to him, he grabbed my arm and pulled me forward into a hug.
"Oh," I mumbled before slowly hugging him back. "This is nice."
"Don't call me that."
I chuckled. "I didn't call you nice."
"Oh...," he muttered. "Well... don't get any clever ideas."
"Yeah, sure, whatever you want, Crowley."
I closed my eyes for a minute, holding onto him a little tighter.
I don't know what happened, but I could feel my headache slowly fading away as we hugged. It felt like it was there one minute and gone the next. I let out a sharp breath when it was gone. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of my head.
"Thank you," I said after a while.
"Yeah, whatever."
That may have been the closest I ever got to a you're welcome with him and I was okay with that. For the time being.
I don't know if I truly realized how much Crowley and Aziraphale cared for me until I walked in crying.
I felt like a child. I was crying as I walked down the sidewalk.
When I made it to the shop, I almost sprinted inside.
Aziraphale jumped at the force I used to open the door. Any scolding died as soon as he saw me.
"Oh, dear," he muttered, walking over to me. "What happened to you?"
He pulled me into a hug as I cried. I hid my face in his shoulder, clinging to his suit a bit as I did. I saw Crowley walk out from around the corner.
"What's going on," he asked.
I stepped back. I went to speak but nothing came out.
"Come on," Aziraphale guided me to my normal corner, guiding me to sit down. I dropped my bag on the floor and wiped my eyes. "Take your time."
Crowley sat in the spot next to me while Aziraphale stayed standing.
"There's... There's this guy," I explained. "I... We were seeing each other for a little while. We went on a few dates. I thought... I thought it was going well. And then, he just... changed. And he sent me this."
I tossed my unlocked phone on the table. Aziraphale grabbed it first. I heard a disgusted sound escape him.
"That is just... despicable," he muttered, placing the phone down.
Crowley reached out and grabbed the phone. I saw his face twist in disgust as a reaction.
"I think he sounds like a waste of time," he said as he placed my phone down. "It's stupid to waste an ounce more of your time on him."
"Crowley!" Aziraphale was fast to scold him.
"What?"
"Now is not the time to insult (Y/n) about their relationship!"
"I'm not! I'm only insulting them if they decide to spend any more time on this person. What I did was just an example of bluntness."
Aziraphale gave Crowley a look before turning back to me with a soft grin. "I am going to make you some tea. You just relax. And Crowley..."
Crowley smirked at him, an eyebrow raised.
"Be nice."
"I am not nice."
"Well, maybe now is a good time to try."
Aziraphale turned around and walked away from the pair of us.
There was a pause between the pair of us before I could speak up.
"Do you actually think that I'm stupid for wasting time on this guy," I asked quietly.
Crowley let out a sigh as he sat up a little bit straighter, tilting his head so he was looking me in the eye. "Not as stupid as he was for leaving you."
I felt a grin form on my face. He leaned over and kissed my head before standing up.
"I'm going to get you something a little stronger than tea."
"I don't drink-"
"And I clearly meant chocolate."
I chuckled and shook my head. "Thank you, Crowley."
"You're welcome."
He walked out of the little nook in the corner.
As he did, I leaned my head on my folded arms on the table. I felt my eyes slowly shutting. I felt bad because of what the pair were off doing, but I couldn't help it. It had just been such a long day. I couldn't help it.
As my blinking got slower and slower, I found myself thinking about how lucky I was to be in that situation.
I had never felt as safe as I was when I spent time in that little bookshop.
I would never be able to thank Crowley and Aziraphale for that.
But I would never stop trying to do so.
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lokischickadee · 29 days
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So I just watched Good Omens season 2 and I am not ok 😭😭
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(gif was on Google)
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avocado-writing · 8 months
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Hey! Saw you had good omens requests open and decided to ask for one. If it's too weird, im sorry and just ignore this. Can you do an ineffable husband's x reader smut where the reader can't c*m (like due to medical reasons or messed up hormones), but Aziriphale and Crowley miracle them and allow them to have a pleasurable experience and have the experience of c*mming for the first time?
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my dear anon, you don’t need to censor the word cum here. aziraphale x gn!reader x Crowley smut (minors dni)
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It should have been good. 
Months of flirting with both of them - really, months - reciprocated in kind: long looks across dinner tables; touching hands when cups of tea were passed; a lingering gaze on lips. They were interested in you and you’d be a fool not to see it. 
So you’d let them take you out late one night. To a little bar where the three of you shared a deep conversation and a bottle of expensive merlot tucked away in a low-lit corner. Aziraphale traced his fingers up your inner thigh, Crowley reached in to gently take your earlobe between his teeth. 
There was an invitation you’d been waiting for, and you pounced at it. 
It should have been good. 
But even now, as you lie back and let them worship you with their bodies, self-consciousness creeps in. No matter how much you enjoy it - and you are enjoying it - there’s that nagging feeling in the back of your mind. The feeling that it’s pointless, that you aren’t going to get anywhere. That you’re going to ruin the whole thing. 
Without even realising it, a hot tear slips down your face and sinks into the feather pillow. Aziraphale notices and pauses immediately, inciting Crowley to do the same. 
“Darling, what’s the matter? Do you want us to stop?”
Aziraphale takes your hand in his and grips it, encouraging you to look at him. You swallow thickly. 
“Sorry. I’m just… oh god, it’s so silly…”
“It’s not silly if you’re upset. Tell us,” he says, softly, caringly. Crowley drops a reassuring kiss to your hip but goes no further. 
“I can’t… ah, you know,” you nod downwards. “It’s my medication. It makes it really hard for me to get there. I don’t want you to waste your time.”
Crowley and Aziraphale exchange a look that you can’t quite decipher before both of them look back to you. 
“Don’t be daft. It’s not a waste of time if we’re with you,” Crowley muses, swiping his thumb in the soft pit of your elbow. The sensation on your skin makes you shudder. 
“But—”
“Do you want to?” Aziraphale asks, pinning you with those beautiful brown eyes of his. “Do you want to come?”
He’s so earnest that you don’t find yourself embarrassed by the question. You just nod. 
Yes. More than anything. 
And then they’re on you again, soft and sweet. Aziraphale kisses you and you welcome his tongue into your mouth; Crowley nips a line down your sternum and settles on a nipple, teasing and biting. 
Their hands go between your legs. Your devil strokes you there, and your angel spreads you open and presses his fingers inside. 
“Oh,” you whisper, a wave of pleasure you’ve not felt before washing over you. 
“Just lie back,” Aziraphale hums, “let us do a little miracle. A tiny miracle won’t be noticed…”
Crowley chuckles with devilish delight at the idea, and you feel his magic surge into you. 
The orgasm Crowley gives you is white hot, burning like fire. Every part of your body is deliciously inflamed. Every sense working overtime, every nerve firing directly into your brain and flooding you with pleasure. You gasp, but it’s not over yet - as you ride the wave of it Aziraphale takes you there again. When he makes you come it rides over your body like a soft tide, caressing the inside of you, eking out your pleasure as he works you with his magic fingers. 
You come over their hands and collapse, not even aware you’d been tensing your body so much. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper, astounded. Crowley scoffs. 
“She didn’t have anything to do with it.”
You bring him up for a kiss as Aziraphale kisses down to between your legs, preparing for his second miracle of the night. 
Taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @idontmeanto@smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world
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it's just us now
crowley x demon!reader x aziraphale
requested by: @cool-iguana
summary: after aziraphale leaves, you and crowley must move on.
warnings: sad :( but also comfort
a/n: i had to jump between writing this and a different fic because this was making me sad and the other was basically me kicking my feet while i giggled. that will be out soon:) for now, enjoy
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you stood beside crowley's bentley, staring in silence across the street. crowley stood on the other side of the car, also unable to utter a word.
aziraphale entered the elevator that would bring him back to heaven, and you couldn't do anything but stare. your eyes had been glossed over, as if a painter had brushed on their protective coating on a finished painting. 
the car felt as if it was your grounding object. it was the only physical thing letting you know that you're here- that crowley is here. he's not leaving you too. you'll still have crowley.
part of you was hoping that your angel would change his mind. that as he took a short glance at the two of you that he would come back to you, back to his bookshop.
that you could all be together on earth, on your own side.
but his words repeat in your head, like a broken record.
"nothing lasts forever."
after the doors close, you clear your throat, forcing yourself to keep from crying. 
"well, i suppose it's just us now." you say softly, opening the passenger door and falling into your seat. 
as crowley gets into his own seat, he remains quiet for a moment. when he starts the engine, the radio began to play a nightingale sang in berkeley square.
as he swiftly turns it off, you sniffle. "we should've known being with an angel wouldn't work."
your voice is quiet, but in the silence of the car it seems so loud. 
crowley nods somberly, placing his hand over yours.
"we should've known."
the ride home was spent in silence, the only noise was the humming of the engine.
-
after a while without the angel that completed your relationship, you and crowley were able to move on.
to leave old memories behind, you managed to find a new apartment. you filled it with plants that thrived- whether it be through their fear of crowley or your green thumb. you even opened a plant nursery for something to do.
some nights, the pain would return.
you would wake from a dream of your angel, sharing a dinner or all of you cuddling on the couch with a cup of tea.
tears would be falling from your eyes when they opened, and at the smallest sound of a sniffle, crowley was awake. 
he was there to pull you into his arms and offer to make you a cup of tea in a whisper.
"i just need you," you'd tell him.
that was all he needed to hold you tight and wrap the blanket snugly around the two of you, his thumb carefully rubbing shapes into your skin to lull you to sleep.
on the rarer occasion, you would wake up to find him missing from the bed, a sliver of light filtering in through the bottom of your door.
you would carefully get out of bed, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and leaving the room to find him sitting on the couch, staring off into nothing in silence.
you would make a cup of tea before sitting down with him, sharing the blanket and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.
"are you okay?"
"i will be."
you'd nod, wrapping your arms around his waist and dozing off until you wake up in the morning, back in bed with crowley cuddled close. 
eventually, you'll be okay.
the remaining pain will fade away and your life will continue without aziraphale. 
taglists
good omens: none yet
crowley: none yet
aziraphale: none yet
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strangesthirdeye · 8 months
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Aziraphale: *runs towards Crowley while holding baby Y/n in his arms* Crowley! Y/n started saying her first word
Crowley: *looks at baby Y/n interestingly* really? let me hear it
Baby Y/n: *squealing happily in Aziraphale's arms* Gro... gro
Aziraphale: aww she wants to say your name Crowley!
Crowley: *big smile* come on say my name.
Baby Y/N: *babbling* Gro-.. grow.. GROW BETTAH!
Crowley:.....
Aziraphale: *blink* well at least we know whose behavior she follows.
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Some random guy: I’m asking for permission to take out your daughter
Crowley: What is this, the dark ages?
Crowley: You know what, since you asked, no, you may not. Beat me in a duel first
Y/N: *facepalms*
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Crowley: *gets a text* Oh! It's Y/n.
Aziraphale, excitedly: Did they get me the stuff?
Crowley: Yeah, they say they got you the clown costume, the power drill, and 12 gallons of blood.
Aziraphale: Wow! Where'd they find 12 gallons of fake blood?
Crowley: You wanted fake blood?
Aziraphale :
Crowley: I'll go call Y/n.
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buryustogether · 7 months
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in the lap of the gods
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aziraphale x f!reader x crowley
summary: it’s 1941, and aziraphale is about to perform on the west end stage. he needs an assistant, of course, but you can’t stand the outfit you’re required to wear. your angel and your demon show you just how much they love it.
word count: 3k
warnings/tags: smut and fluff, reader wears a slutty outfit, threesome, thigh riding, semi-public sex, body worship, crowley’s a horny bitch, war violence, bombs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of guns
“I really don’t see why this get-up has got to be so… revealing,” you said. “I look like a harlot.”
“Well,” came a voice from behind the thin paper of the changing screen, “I suppose it’s to entice the strapping young soldiers out there. They do seem to enjoy a bit of… should I say… adultery?”
There came a second voice from further in the room, coiled and slick like a serpent. “Or,” he drawled, “it’s for easy access.”
“Crowley,” chided the first voice, disdain dripping from his tongue.
You gave a silent huff as you adjusted the skimpy little outfit the manager of the West End theater had given you, tugging at the thin material that barely covered your breasts and the thin strap that snaked between your legs. It was a glittery, near-elastic piece of pazazz that was sure to earn you more than a few glances and whistles this evening… something you promised you wouldn’t let get to you. If not for your reputation, for the pair of men on the other side of the changing screen that encased you like a butterfly trapped in a jar.
If you inhaled deep enough, you were still able to smell the smoke that clung to Aziraphale and Crowley’s suits, permeating the air and poisoning their natural musks that you so loved to inhale. You had spent the better part of the evening, as you followed them through London streets and around a magic shop, picking pieces of rubble and dusting traces of the explosion from their backs and shoulders. The bomb had shaken you to your core despite being miles away when it had happened, tucked away safely in the passenger seat of the Bentley.
“Crowley,” you had said as your demon had parked his car between the shadows of two tall, sturdy buildings that still stood against the smoke and destruction of the bombs. “What are we doing here? There’s still planes overhead.”
“Just sit tight for a minute, love,” he’d replied before climbing from the Bentley. “It seems our angel’s got himself in a heap of mess.”
The explosion had rocked the ancient church in the distance like a match igniting a stick of dynamite; fast, and hot, and loud. You waited so long you considered getting out and running to search the site for your lovers before they had come strolling around the corner through the dark, dusting themselves off and murmuring quietly beneath their breaths.
“Aziraphale,” you had said when you climbed from the car to greet them. “What on earth have you done?”
“Good evening to you, as well, my darling,” he had said, then lifted your hand and placed a loving kiss upon your knuckles. “Just got myself a bit caught up. Nothing to worry your head over.”
Crowley had harrumphed slightly as he dropped himself into the driver’s seat once more. “Get in, you two. I’ve got an appointment to keep.”
An appointment had led to forty broken bottles of whiskey. Forty broken bottles of whiskey had led to Aziraphale becoming a magician, and that had led to buying a very real rifle with very real bullets. And the rifle, and the bullets, and the broken bottles of whiskey, and everything else had led to you finding yourself here behind this changing screen, examining the costume of a magician’s assistant who, really, was only there to look pretty and smile when the light panned over her.
Crowley had told you it would be a bit of fun, was all. Aziraphale had assured you no real harm would be done.
Had you not loved them both more than you needed air to breathe, you might have considered saying no, begging your angel to not get up on that stage, dropping to your knees and begging your demon to miracle up a few more bottles of liquor to make up for the whole thing.
But, oh… you loved them far too much.
“Are you about settled, my darling?” came Aziraphale’s voice from deeper in the cramped little dressing room. “It’s ten ‘til, and I would rather not further anger the madame of the theater any more than necessary.”
“She’s a loony old bat,” came Crowley’s quip. “A few minutes won’t hurt her.”
You took one last look down at yourself - at the feathered headband in your grip; the exposed tops of your legs and the plump ‘V’ of your upper thighs that led to their apex just covered by the elastic; the heels that glittered in the dim light; the curves of your breasts, just barely held in place by the haltered neckline of the costume. You looked ridiculous.
With a long, deep breath you felt in your sternum, you placed a hand on the edge of the changing screen. “Don’t you boys poke your fun at me,” you warned them. “I know how I look, I don’t need you both reminding me.”
You pulled back the screen and stepped out, avoiding their eyes as you fiddled with the headband. You expected Crowley to bark out bouts of laughter, for Aziraphale to politely cover his mouth and look away to hide the rosiness of his cheeks as he held back a few giggles. But there came none of that. Instead, you were only met with silence. Hesitantly, you glanced up to meet their gazes.
Crowley and Aziraphale, for once in their eternal lives, looked rather lost for words. You didn’t take too many moments to soak in the way the demon tilted down his shades so he could peer those yellow eyes over the rims, nor how the angel’s back had gone stiff and he clutched his magician’s hat to his chest so tightly his knuckles paled. Instead of entertaining their amusement, you scoffed and clicked over to the vanity illuminated with golden bulbs; funny. Almost all the Watson bulbs had been grinded down for the war efforts. You supposed the West End had a bit of advantage in their supply when it came to things like glass and elastic.
“Yes, yes, gape all you want,” you snipped as you leaned forward to examine your reflection in the mirror; Christ almighty, you looked like a common slut. “Neither of you know how humiliating this is.”
At once, your angel jumped into action. “No, dearest,” he said as he came to stand beside you at the vanity, gently discarding his hat on the countertop. “We’re not poking fun at you, not in the slightest. We’re… well, you simply look…”
You eyed him from the corner of your vision.
“Incredibly doable,” came Crowley’s pitch from where he’d spread himself across the old couch tucked against the wall.
Aziraphale sent him a rather stern glance as you felt your chest drop slightly into your belly. You fixed your reflection with another stare. You looked like a prostitute, all your private planes and surfaces on display for everyone who even glanced in your direction. There was hardly a chance they enjoyed seeing their girl pimped up like this; was there?
“What he’s attempting to say,” said your angel as he reached out a soft, well-manicured hand and rested it respectfully on the middle of your back, “is, well… you do look rather ravishing, is all.”
“Oh, stop it, the both of you. You’re being mean.” Shouldering off his touch, you reached for a bit of the lipstick resting against the vanity and tried to stop your hands from trembling as you pulled off the cap and screwed it up. In all honesty, it still flustered you a bit when they showered you in affection; which they did often. How was it possible that an angel and a demon, in love themselves, who had seen the beginning of the earth and all the beautiful men and women in it, had fallen for you, a mortal, a little bit of soul within this planet full of it?
It didn’t quite make sense to you, but in the moments like these, when you felt yourself growing weak against their words, you cast the thought aside and let sense run rampant.
“After all this time, and you still don’t believe us when we say something nice?” clicked Crowley, reaching up to take the brim of his hat and rest it on the arm of the couch. He tilted his head at you in the reflection of the mirror, his gaze just out of sight behind his shades. “Come here.”
You looked to Aziraphale before blinking a few times, smearing your third layer of lipstick across your mouth. “The show will start soon,” you heard yourself say hesitantly. “I have to go out and announce him to the audience before…”
“Come here.”
Your demon’s sudden drop in tone sent a pang of both anxiety and arousal racing through you like fire dancing along your veins. You set down the tube of lipstick, hearing it clatter slightly from the shaking of your hand, and twisted around on your ridiculous heels to face him. He sat there on the couch, legs spread like he owned the world and arms stretched across the back of the seats like he was waiting for his two favorite people to arrive at his sides. He waited chin held high, finger tapping impatiently on the back. Aziraphale said nothing as you trailed from his side and approached the demon; when he spoke like this, it affected the both of you in the same way.
Crowley adjusted his legs when you came to him, allowing you to tentatively straddle his thighs until your hips were flush against his. A look back in the mirror told you your ass was hanging out of your skimpy little get-up, the leotard-like shape doing nothing to protect your modesty. Aziraphale seemed to be enjoying it quite nicely. You felt long, slender fingers touch your chin and guide your vision back to your demon. With his other hand, he reached up and pulled off his shades so that he could meet your gaze, yellow, slitted eyes boring into yours.
“You really ought to start taking our word for things, love,” Crowley said, and you shivered when his voice retained its deep baritone that only saw the light when there were two things at hand; imminent danger, and the promise of depravity. “‘Cause when we say you look good…” He leaned forward until his thin lips were level with the shell of your ear, his breath fanning across your skin. “We bloody well mean it.”
His hips shallowly bucked up into yours then and the rough material of his trousers rubbed at your clit perfectly through the thin elastic of your costume. You were unable to keep a soft, breathy murmur from escaping your lips at the sudden jolt of feeling, your hands flying up to balance yourself on his broad shoulders.
Behind you, you heard Aziraphale take in a small breath at the sight. He nervously shuffled his weight on his feet, glancing to the door that led to the stage. “Crowley,” he said in what should have been a warning, but it was far too soft to be taken seriously. “Now is… now is certainly not a good time for this.”
Crowley pulled another sound from you, this time a moan, when he held your hips in place and bucked again. “Well, it’s like I said,” he replied, tilting his head so he could look up at you as your hair fell into your face and your eyes began to roll back. “A few minutes won’t hurt them.” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “Besides, our girl’s nervous. Come and lend a hand, calm her a bit. You know how she likes it.”
You felt your face flush with heat from embarrassment, but you were slowly losing your will to care as Crowley leaned down to attach his lips to the base of your throat. His forked tongue laved across your skin like he was trying to memorize your taste, teeth nipping and fingers tightening around your waist. You were hardly able to notice when a second weight dipped the couch beside him, and your demon patted your thigh to get you to move. You knew just what to do; you always did. Feeling yourself beginning to grow slick between your legs, most assuredly ruining the gusset of this ridiculous outfit, you swung your legs over to kneel across both Crowley and Aziraphale’s thighs, which were pressed together where they sat so close not an inch of light could have separated them.
Aziraphale’s warm hand reached out to gently cup your chin, his thumb brushing lovingly across your jaw. “Forgive our earlier stutter, my darling,” he said, then leaned forward to press his plump lips to the point where your clavicle dipped. “I assume by now you know the effect you have on us.” He kissed you again, this time upon your bare shoulder. “Especially when you present yourself in such an outfit.”
Just a sigh escaped your lips, Crowley’s finger ran along your side, pulling a short yip from your throat that he quickly swallowed by fitting his mouth over yours. From there, they moved like they shared one mind, like they knew you inside and out because, really, they did.
The couch creaked quietly as Crowley dragged your barely-clothed cunt over their thighs, earning them a drawn-out moan like a symphony to their ears, and Aziraphale’s grip came up to hold the back of your neck steady as he pressed kiss after kiss to anywhere he could reach; your throat; your chest; your shoulder; your arm. They moved you about like their own little doll, so familiar and fine tuned with your reactions they knew they would happen before they did. Sparks erupted like flint on stone within the pit of your belly when, eventually, Crowley pulled you forward at a slightly new angle and your clit caught wonderfully upon a hitch in Aziraphale’s trousers. You tilted your head back and released a long moan, barely able to keep yourself up when you were suddenly worked to hit that spot over and over again.
“Ah…!” you mewled as Aziraphale nipped ever so softly at the exposed skin of your shoulder. Your arms trembled as you struggled to keep your hold on their shoulders. “Oh, right there, boys, right there. Keep going, please don’t stop…!”
Crowley’s lips tilted up into a crooked smirk, slitted eyes drinking you in like a forbidden liquor he’d been dying for since he first heard of it. “I hardly think you need to go out there at all, angel,” he said to Aziraphale beside him. “We’ve got our own show right here.”
You worked your hips along with Crowley’s push and pull, offering more and more of your skin to your angel for him to mark and lavish, feeling yourself approach that cliff they so loved to drag you off again and again. You never feared the fall; you knew they would always be waiting to catch you before you hit the bottom.
Small, whimpered noises escaped your throat as you chased your released upon their thighs, your clit rubbing and catching perfectly against their trousers like this was exactly what they were made for. Lips were showering your skin with love and affection. Hands were anchored securely to your waist. You were held so intensely, so beautifully, that it only took a few words from the tip of Crowley’s tongue to send you reeling toward your end.
“Come on and sin for us, love.”
Your orgasm came hard and fast, racking your body with trembles and twitches you couldn’t control, with bursts of color in your vision like fireworks, like guns firing off beside your ears with smoke that would blind you for days. You felt your release stain the fabric of their pants, and it was the last thing you really minded before all but collapsing against the pair. Hands, arms, mouths caught you securely, rubbing along your back, holding you tight, gently kissing along your face. You felt them pull away for just a moment to meet each other for a deep, passionate kiss before returning to smothering you with adoration.
It was an idyllic few seconds, the quiet that came after an explosion of a moment such as that, before there came a sharp, rattling knock against the dressing room door. “Pick up the pace, Mister Fell,” came the voice of the madame of the theater. “We’ve got an audience waiting, and the war’s not getting any better these days!”
You groaned softly, nestling your face into Aziraphale’s neck as he stroked your hair and called in return, “Ah, yes, of course. We’ll be right out!”
You wanted nothing more than to not go up on the damned West End stage, to smile and twist in your glittery costume and tease the soldiers in the audience like you hadn’t just gotten your world rocked within an inch of your life. And yet… everything came to an end. You whimpered again when your angel gently shifted you off of him, placing you temporarily in Crowley’s hold, before getting to his feet and gently snapping his fingers. You felt the dampness across your demon’s thigh fade into nothingness, along with the slick between your legs. Your hair righted itself to its former do, and the smudged lipstick across your mouth was once more perfected. When you lifted your head, however, you noticed Crowley had elected to keep the messy imprint of your lips across the corner of his mouth.
He noticed you looking and gave you a sly, crooked grin. “I like to wear my trophies,” he said before pulling your head close and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Come along now, gorgeous. Don’t want to keep the fans waiting.”
Shakily, you got to your feet, struggling momentarily to stand on your heels. While your heart slowed its racing pulse and the heat gently ebbed from your cheeks, Aziraphale lifted your feathered headband from before and tucked it securely over your hair.
“There’s our darling,” he murmured, smiled softly down at you, then tilted up your chin to press a light, though nonetheless loving kiss upon your swollen lips. “Are you ready?”
You took a breath, straightened yourself out, and nodded your head. “I am now, I think,” you replied.
“Perfect,” said your angel. “Because I’ve got a bullet to catch.”
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ineffablesuffering · 7 months
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Pub Quiz (Crowley X Reader)
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*not my gif!*
Warnings: use of alcohol, i think that's it? oh and crowley in a turtleneck - thats a major warning.
Pairing: Crowley x gn!reader.
Word Count: 2,355 (i got a bit carried away writing this whoops)
Note: to the lovely anon that sent me a request; i'm working on it! i see you!
Masterlist
_____________________________________
“Oh, c’mon it will be fun, you never want to do anything fun,” you whine.
“I’m plenty fun,” Crowley said, sipping his whisky. You roll your eyes at him. The Drunken Donkey was hosting a music quiz and you were desperate to go.  You had grown up around all sorts of music and back when you were a young teenager discovering the world of ‘decent music’ as your dad had put it, he would test you on your knowledge and it was something you had become quite fond of.
“Please,” you beg, “I’ll buy you a new plant, wash the Bentley, and buy you a drink.”
Crowley let out a sigh and looked down as he swirled the whisky in his glass. It’s not as if he had anything better to do with his time and he was rather fond of spending time with you, not that he’d ever admit that. An uncomfortable, but not unwelcome, feeling pulled on his heart when he looked up at you to see you giving your best puppy dog eyes. “Fine! Fine,” he said exasperatedly, “but don’t complain when I beat you.”
“We’ll see about that,” you say with a cheeky grin.
A few hours later, you were waiting for Crowley to make an appearance outside The Drunken Donkey. You had returned home to get changed into something a bit more appropriate for an evening in the pub, and so it seems had Crowley. He rounded the corner and you had to try to stop your jaw from hanging open. He wore all black, which was nothing new but the turtleneck jumper? Yeah, that was new, and he looked downright sinful.
“Well don’t you scrub up nicely,” you say when he approaches you, butterflies erupting in your stomach.
“Not so bad yourself,” he comments with a smirk. Your cheeks flame. “Ready to lose?”
“Oh, you’re so on.”
You both head inside and Crowley heads to find a seat in the busy pub as you approach the bar.
“What can I get for you my lovely,” the woman behind the bar said. You order yourself your favourite drink and a large Talisker for Crowley, before tapping your card and heading off to find him.  
“For you,” you say placing down the whisky in front of him. He shoots you a small smile that’s enough to make you clutch your drink a little bit tighter before sitting down opposite him. “So basically, you need to have this app to take part in the quiz, you just put your name in it and then tap the right answer. Simple! Do you need help or are you old enough to do it by yourself?”
“Oh, very funny,” he huffs pulling his phone out and situating himself. “Now remember; no crying when you lose,” he smirks at you. You just look at him as you take a sip from your drink.
“We’ll see about that,” you put your own information into your phone. “Shall we make a bet?”
“A bet with a demon Y/N? That’s a bit risky, even for you.” He gives you a wicked grin and he leans in closer. You can smell his cologne at this proximity, and it makes your palms sweat a little bit. You really do need to sort yourself out.
“Well,” you lean in, not letting the proximity to him make you nervous. “I’m feeling rather confident tonight.”
“Okay then. If I win, you have to buy me a coffee every day for the next two weeks.”
“And if I win, you have to drive me around in the Bentley for two weeks, chauffeur hat and all.” You smile sweetly holding out your hand. He grins and shakes your hand.
“Deal.”
Soon the quiz master is telling you the rules, and you feel a sense of nervousness in your stomach. Maybe this was a bad idea, he did have nearly 6,000 years of experience on you, which is an awful lot of time to listen to music. The quiz master explained that there was to be four rounds; the 1980s, the Naughties, Guess the Next Line and a round specifically dedicated to Queen. Crowley perked up when he heard the last round, he smiled smugly at his phone, thinking he had this in the bag. It would be nice to not have to pay for coffee for two weeks, he thought to himself. He takes a quick glance at you over the top of his sunglasses, seeing you slightly wiggle in your seat. Your nerves, weirdly, gave him a sense of confidence.
“Okay ladies and gents, Round One: The 1980s,” the quiz master starts. The first song plays and within the first second, you’re tapping the answer.
“What?” you say as you look up and see Crowley staring at you slightly open-mouthed.
“How did you know that so quickly? The song barely started!” he points out.
You feel your nerves start to disperse and that sense of confidence washes over you again as you shrug with a smug smile on your face getting ready for the next song. The opening notes to The Look by Roxette play as you tap again within the first few notes of the song. You start to sway along in your seat. You hear Crowley growl as you continue to get the questions right and get them right quickly.
Soon the round comes to an end and the quiz master puts the leaderboard up and you smile smugly at Crowley as you see your name at the top of the board and him close behind in second place.
“What was that about you beating me?” you grin cheekily.
“Shut up,” he grumbles “It’s only round one. Don’t get too cocky.”
You giggle at him; the host announces that they are starting round two. You shoot him a wink before looking back down at your phone getting ready to start. You miss the redness that dusts his cheeks.
After the end of the round, you find yourself at the top of the leaderboard again, but this time Crowley is only a few points behind you and getting closer.
“I’m catching up to you, Y/N,” he says smugly, “You seemed to miss a few songs there, are you slipping?”
“No,” you say confidently. “I just know the 80s better.”
“I see,” he finishes his drink. “Another?” He gestures to your now empty glass. You nod at him before he heads off to the bar. A small smile graces your lips. You rather enjoy spending time with the demon. You love spending time with Aziraphale too, but this was different. Crowley just seemed to get you and your sense of humour. He was kind, although he would never admit it. He once acquired a first edition copy of your favourite book for your birthday one year, but he brushed it off as something that anyone would do. That’s when your feelings towards him started. Something about the gesture was so heartfelt and thoughtful that you couldn’t help but fall just a little bit in love with him. You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed the drink being placed in front of you and Crowley retaking his seat.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, startling you.
“Oh sorry,” your cheeks heat again, a common occurrence around Crowley, “I was just thinking about how I can’t wait to be driven around by you for the next two weeks,” you reply cooly, not letting your thoughts get the best of you. He takes a sip of his drink and leans back in his chair, not quite believing you.
“Hmm, I wouldn’t get too comfortable Y/N,” he smirked at you.
Before you could respond, the quiz master introduced the third round. The round went by smoothly, and you were now tied with Crowley in first place, who had been slowly creeping up behind you as the round went on. You felt yourself becoming more nervous as you went into the Queen round, knowing this is something that Crowley would do well in. It really was anybody's game. The round goes by quickly and before you know it the quiz was over. You look at Crowley and he looks back at you. He seems nervous. The quiz master is soon displaying the final results and you see your name at the top of the leaderboard, one point ahead of Crowley.
“Would you look at that,” you cheer smugly, sticking your tongue out at him.
“Don’t be so juvenile,” he groans at you.
“Don’t be so sour,” you grin at him “Oh I can’t wait to have a personal driver for the next two weeks.”
“You just got lucky.”
You lean over the table, “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said giving your face a once over, ever so slightly lingering on your lips.
You lean back in your seat, feeling quite proud of yourself. “You know, I think I should demand one of those special apology dances you make Aziraphale do for you.”
“Absolutely not.” He said, finishing his drink, “I don’t do the dance.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard,” you bring the last of your drink to your lips with a smirk.
“Shut up,” he huffs, glancing around the still-busy pub, the quiz long forgotten by everyone else in the room. The night was still young and despite him losing to you, he was rather enjoying his evening and didn’t want it to end. His gaze lands back on you as you type out something on your phone. “Do you maybe want to come back to the bookshop for one more?” he asks. He sounded nervous, as if you might reject his offer. “Aziraphale’s in Edinburgh visiting a friend, and I know he’s got some lovely vintage wine hiding somewhere.”
“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” you smile at him, and he smiles back. He stands up and offers you a hand which you take, and you walk down the street to the bookshop.
A few moments later, you were in Aziraphale’s bookshop lounging on his sofa with Crowley. You sat cross-legged facing him, and he had an arm stretched behind the back of the sofa, sunglasses placed on the table by the door. You suggest to Crowley that you should put some music on, he snaps his fingers, and the sounds of Duran Duran filled the air. You smile at him, of course, he knows how much you loved them. It’s just the kind of demon he was, thoughtful, kind, and caring. One glass turns into two as the music continues to play in the background and you talk about this that and everything in between. He tells you tales of Rome and Athens way back when and you watch him talk. He describes everything in such a way that draws you closer to him. His hands waving around as he talks, little drops of wine occasionally falling from the glass that he never thinks to put down. He truly was a sight to behold.
“You’re staring,” he said finally placing his glass down.
“Am I?” you say blinking, you turn your head to the side.
“Hey, I never said I minded,” he said, your attention suddenly back on him. Was he flirting with you? The butterflies returned to your stomach, and you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the way he spoke to you. He stood suddenly; a hand stretched out towards you. “Care to dance?”
You look at his outstretched hand for a beat before a shy smile appears on your face as you gently place your hand onto his. He helps you stand and is quick to pull you close to him. You look at him and he looks at you with a small smile on his face as he snakes a hand around your waist. The music suddenly changes into the soft melody of Spandau Ballet’s True. You giggle and hide your head in his chest. Was this his doing? You look up and find him gazing at you.
“So…” you begin.
“So…”
“This is different,” you smile.
“A good different or a bad different?” he asks twirling you.
“A good different.” You say before falling into a comfortable silence. You lean your head on his shoulder and he leans his on top of yours. The two of you swayed to the music as if you were the only two people on Earth.
“I’m glad you dragged me along tonight,” he says softly, the vibration of his words running over your body.
“I’m glad I convinced you to come, even if it means I need to buy you a plant and wash the Bentley.” You laugh. He chuckles.
“Don’t bother,” he says chuckling as he lifts his head. You move your own to look at him. He really did have the most beautiful eyes.
“I guess you’re right, I did win after all.” You grin at him, removing the hand that was once in his and placing it on his chest giving him a tap, “I’m just that good.” His now free hand now found its way to the side of your face. You tilt your head, confused at the movement. His face had an unreadable expression on it. “Crowley are yo-“
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up,” he said almost breathlessly, as he pulled you close and kissed you. A beat passes before your eyes flutter closed and you kiss him back, the hand that was once on his chest now cupping his face bringing him even closer to you. He pulls away just enough for him to rest his forehead against yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear him.
“Me too,” you whisper back, “Me too.”
He grins at you before kissing you again, his lips warm and soft against yours. He pulls back, a hand still cupping the side of your face, his thumb rubbing up and down against your jaw. “Would you maybe like to go out on a date sometime?” he asks softly. You nod, a smile wide on your face.
“Yeah, I would.”
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