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denaliwrites · 5 months

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Pickin' Up the Pieces of the Mess You Made

Aziraphale x GN!Reader

Catch and Release Prompt: "Abandon"

Summary: Aziraphale takes you in because he's kind and soft, but the work that follows is not what he anticipated.

Soundtrack: All You Had To Do Was Stay by Taylor Swift

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Abandonment and associated trauma.

He'd found you behind the bookshop on a rainy afternoon.

He'd apparently heard crying and come out to investigate, only to find you leaned against the wall, sobbing your heart out. His hands had been gentle as he carefully peeled you from the wall and guided you inside.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you worried about the chair he'd sat you down in, but almost as if he'd read your mind, he told you not to concern yourself over it.

But you continued to worry, even as he bustled about, bringing you tea and snacks that seemed suspiciously fresh, a blanket, books that he'd somehow guessed were just the kind you liked. Anything to stop the tears.

Yet they continued to pour, though after a point it was because you were drowning in his kindness. Whatever you'd been crying about before was blessedly forgotten for the time being.

When the man asked you why you were crying (before he'd found you, he made sure to specify), you'd had difficulty explaining. It wasn't that you necessarily thought he wouldn't understand? It was just that...

Well, you kind of thought he wouldn't understand.

You weren't really sure why. He was (supposedly) human, after all, and many human experiences were universal. It was just, when you looked into his eyes, well... he seemed a little too... pure? Innocent? Untainted by the horrors of the world?

"It's nothing," you'd told him with a sniffle. "Relationship problems."

"Oh, dear," he'd responded, scooting his own chair closer to yours.

His knees were touching yours. Instinctively you'd withdrawn, pulling your legs up so that they were curled up to your chest. You'd pretended not to see the hurt in his eyes.

The rest of the day had gone by much like that.

He'd gone back to work, but had checked in on you regularly, and you'd sat in silence alternating between staring out the window and trying to read, with occasional sips of tea and nibbles of treats.

And when he'd closed the shop, you'd retreated off into the night without a word.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

You could see the surprise in his eyes when you ducked into the shop a few weeks later.

He quickly hid it behind a warm smile, though, and walked over to greet you. "My dear," he started, beckoning you deeper inside the shop, "what a pleasant surprise. Please, stay for a spell?"

You wanted to say no -- you weren't even sure why you were here -- but you found it weirdly hard to say no to him. Something in his eyes just... glued you to the spot, in a way.

"I... yeah. All right."

He led you over to the chair you'd sat in that first day, and pulled up the same chair he'd sat in, too. When you sat, you made sure that your legs were curled up underneath you.

He saw it -- you know he did. But he said nothing, and his eyes were quick to trail away.

"What brings you back, my dear?" he asked casually.

Oh.

"I don't really know," you answered honestly.

"That's all right. You don't always need a reason to do things!"

He was way too chipper. Definitely had not experienced even a single terrible thing in his life.

You found yourself thinking good for him rather unironically.

The rest of the day was passed mostly in silence, though he did, somehow, manage to coax you into speaking a few times (other than the occasional "thank you" when he brought you things).

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Aziraphale knew from the very beginning that he had to handle you with “kid gloves,” as he’d heard people say.

You weren't very forthcoming with information about yourself, nor did you make any kind of effort to learn any information about others (you'd visited several times over the course of a few months and still hadn't asked for his name or offered your own, for example). You refused to be touched. You'd leave if he asked a question he could only guess was too personal for you.

Overall, getting close to you was a struggle.

But you kept coming back, so clearly you were getting something from him that you needed -- or, perhaps, you wanted to let him in and just weren't sure how. He wanted to help, whatever the case turned out to be, but he was having a hard time figuring out what exactly it was you wanted or needed from him.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

You finally told him your name.

Six months of you visiting the shop, and you finally told him your name.

He was quite surprised by it, honestly. It had rather come from nowhere. One moment you were curled up on the chair -- your chair, now -- and the next you were beside him, handing him a piece of paper.

He read your name aloud and looked up to see your eyes light up -- before you dashed away and out of the shop like a frightened animal.

Well, it's progress, at least, he thought.

And you made more progress the next time you visited, by (again, to Aziraphale's surprise) asking for his name.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

The next few months were an exercise in patience and moderation, as he had to learn how much information was too much to ask for. The good news, at least, was that you no longer fled the moment a question that was too personal was posed. You shut down and didn't answer, but that was still better than you leaving altogether.

Bit by bit, he started to learn more about you. And he really didn't like the image that was starting to form.

It had nothing to do with you, really. Moreso what had been done to you. Friends and family and partners leaving. Always leaving. No wonder you'd refused to get close for so long. Why you were still taking your time.

He realized now how many tests he had to have been given -- and how many he had to have passed -- to have gotten to this point. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a little proud.

But you were the important part of all this -- the most important part.

Now that he understood, he knew -- generally speaking -- what kind of help you needed, but not necessarily how to help you.

Luckily, you found the answer all on your own.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

You'd been hanging around the bookshop for about a year. By then, Aziraphale (you still couldn't get over what an odd name that was) knew most of the pieces that you were made up of. And you knew he wished he could help more, but neither of you were really sure how.

And then you found Ralph.

Ralph was a tiny, sickly kitten that you found one day, curled up in the same spot Aziraphale had found you in that first time you'd met.

It was like fate, or maybe a miracle.

Especially as he warmed up to you rather quickly. Desperately, even. How could you even think of saying no to a tiny kitten in need? A sick one, at that. And he was all white, just like Aziraphale's hair.

Speaking of...

You wondered how he'd take to the kitten.

"Oh, dear," he said the moment you walked into the shop with the little thing held in your arms. "What did you find out there?"

"His name is Ralph," you told him, eyes glued to the kitten.

You didn't realize that Aziraphale's friend Crowley was there until you heard his voice saying, "That looks to me like a cat, angel."

"Yes, Crowley, I can see it's a cat," Aziraphale answered with a sigh.

"His name is Ralph," you repeated, finally looking up. Your eyes met with Aziraphale's, and he instantly melted.

"... Does Ralph need a place to stay?" he asked, and you beamed.

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

With your care and Aziraphale's help (some of it unbeknownst to you), Ralph grew quickly. He got over whatever illness he had within a week of living in the bookshop, and from there everything was smooth sailing.

You visited more often, now that you had something to care for living in the shop. You talked more, having something nearby that relaxed you -- that wouldn't leave you. You loved that little kitten.

And Aziraphale was grateful for how the kitten helped you. He'd even go so far as to say he loved it, too.

And, well, it didn't take him long to find that he loved you, too, once you allowed him to get close enough to do so. He worried a bit, at first, that you didn't love him back, or maybe that you did but wouldn't allow yourself to admit you'd gotten close enough to someone for those kinds of feelings to develop.

But then one day, Ralph padded up to him with a friendly chirrup and when he looked down, Aziraphale saw a note sticking out of the cat's collar.

This wasn't unusual -- you'd bought a little parcel holder for Ralph specifically for just that purpose.

What was unusual, however, was that the note was asking him out to dinner -- and when he looked up to find you in the shop, you were, with great effort, making a point to look everywhere but at him.

So he wrote a note and stuck it into Ralph's little carrier, and off the cat went to deliver his message.

A few moments later, you called out from somewhere in the shop, "Seven sounds great!"

#aziraphale x reader #aziraphale x you #good omens x reader #good omens fic #good omens fan fiction #michael sheen #catch and release prompt #im not wholly satisfied with this one but it is what it is

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mimisempai · 4 months

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You make everything better

Summary

It's one of those bad days, which is bad enough in itself, but when on top of that Crowley sees Aziraphale laughing with Mr. Brown, he wonders if his angel wouldn't be better off with someone bright like him.

Notes

Just a little self-doubt and an opportunity for the angel to reaffirm his feelings for his demon.

On Ao3

Rating G - 1246 words

It was one of those days.

As soon as he opened his eyes, Crowley knew it.

It was going to be one of those days when he didn't feel like doing anything, saying anything.

When all he wanted to do was sleep and get to tomorrow.

But he got up anyway.

Not because he felt he had to, but simply because the only person who could bring him comfort on such a day was probably one floor below, leafing through his precious books.

Crowley knew with certainty that he wouldn't have to say anything.

Nor would he have to explain his state of mind, his lack of energy, his mood.

He would just lie on the sofa and Aziraphale would not question him.

For Aziraphale was the only one who knew.

The one who knew him better than anyone else in the universe.

So as he walked down the stairs, just imagining that familiar scene made Crowley feel a little better.

At least until he reached the bookshop.

It wasn't until he was near the sofa that he realized the angel wasn't there.

There was a small note on the coffee table.

He took it and read it.

I’m running an errand and going to Maggie's

I'll be back soon.

The demon sighed, grabbed the blanket on the back of the sofa, and was about to sit down when his gaze was drawn to the familiar figure of his angel chatting with Mr. Brown in the middle of the street.

They were engaged in what appeared to be an animated conversation and Aziraphale suddenly laughed.

As Crowley watched in fascination as the angel laughed with someone other than himself, all he could think was that maybe this was the kind of person Aziraphale should be with. Someone bubbly and kind, someone bright.

In short, not someone like him.

Of course, Crowley tried to tell himself rationally that he was wrong.

That Aziraphale had shown him more than once how he felt about him.

Even told him more than once how much he loved him.

But no matter how hard the demon fought the dark thoughts he knew were connected to his current state, he couldn't shake the idea.

His throat tightened, he curled up on the sofa, hoping to fall asleep as soon as possible and wake up tomorrow.

"Crowley?"

He must have managed to fall asleep because he was awakened by the sound of Aziraphale's voice and a light touch on his cheek.

He opened his eyes as he felt the angel sitting next to him on the sofa.

He saw the look of concern on his face as he was gently asked, "Are you all right, my love?"

Crowley shook his head slowly and murmured, "It's one of those days."

Aziraphale hummed and said quietly, "I see."

The demon expected him to get up and leave him alone, respecting what Crowley wanted on such a day. But as if sensing that this time was different, the angel remained seated and, stroking his cheek gently with the back of his fingers, asked thoughtfully, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Just as the demon was about to shake his head, his mouth ran faster than his mind and he replied, "Stay with me and hold me. "

What possessed him to say that?

As if this kind of day wasn't already a burden for the Angel, now Crowley was getting clingy on top of it.

He opened his mouth to take back his words, but Aziraphale put a finger to his lips and said softly, "Before you start telling me that you don't want this because you think you're a burden, let me tell you that I'll be happy to do it if that's what you really want. So I ask you, is this what you want? Is this what you need?"

Crowley wanted to argue that he didn't need to be coddled, but he didn't have the strength to do so in the face of the angel's open, loving gaze.

He didn't feel like denying what he craved most right now.

So he nodded slowly, but Aziraphale shook his head and said softly, "No, I want to hear you say it."

Crowley sighed and whispered, "Yes, that's what I want, Angel."

Once the words were out of his mouth, he realized he'd needed to say them as much as Aziraphale needed to hear them.

The angel leaned over him and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead before standing.

"I'm going to close the bookshop, I've decided that today will be a day off. "

Even though the bookshop's hours were more than erratic, it still touched Crowley to the core that Aziraphale would do this just for him.

Then, as he straightened up on the sofa, the angel returned and sat down beside him before opening his arms for Crowley to snuggle into.

He did so immediately as Aziraphale covered them with the blanket, tightening his arms around him as Crowley rested his head on his shoulder, burying his face in the hollow of the angel's neck.

Aziraphale gave a long kiss to his hair and asked softly, "Is that all right?"

Crowley hummed as he nodded his head against the angel's chest, and they remained so entwined in silence for a long moment until the angel asked gently, "Did something special happen to make you like this?"

"You mean me being clingy."

Aziraphale gave him a little tap on the shoulder and retorted, "Idiot, that's not what I mean. It's just that I can't help but notice that this isn't your usual way of handling a day like this."

Nestled safely in the angel's arms, Crowley didn't feel like hiding his feelings and told him what had made him react the way he did today.

When he finished, Aziraphale tightened his arms around him and replied softly, "I'm not going to tell you that you're a fool for believing for a moment that someone like him would be better for me than you. I know the irrationality of what one can feel at times like this."

He grabbed Crowley's chin and raised his face to his, looking into his eyes and saying softly, "But let me correct you, my love, okay? You're saying I'd be better suited to someone more bubbly, nice, and what again? Brighter. First of all, you're the one I love, and yes, even if you're not particularly bubbly today. Secondly, your kindness has nothing to envy Mr. Brown's, by far. And finally, who said you weren't bright? What's brighter than those beautiful golden pupils or that bright red hair?"

Crowley muttered, "You know I didn't mean that."

Aziraphale, still holding the demon's chin in his hand, nodded and replied, "I know. But you're bright. You're my light, my love. When I'm in doubt, when I don't know which way to go, you're the one I look up to. I always have. You made me open my eyes to the reality of our sides. You push me forward when I don't feel good about myself. You made me believe in myself. That's what being bright means to me."

He didn't let the demon protest and leaned his face into his, sealing his words with a tender, lingering kiss.

When they parted a few moments later, Crowley rested his head on the angel's shoulder, and they remained entwined in silence.

Maybe this wasn't one of those bad days after all.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : (After season 2)

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #GOS2Spoilers

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novthewolf · 8 months

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Two’s company, three’s a family - Part five

Summary : As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn’t get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them up, oblivious to the reason…

Pairing : Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

Warnings : foul language, mild nudity (chest), mention of s3x, drug mention, gun use, mild violence slow burn, english isn’t my first language.

Words : 4,4k

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Mmh... are... you sleeping ?" A very confused voice asked

"Nnh ?!" You shot up on your bed, feeling the blanket shuffle down on your legs. You tried to open your eyes in a panic before hissing when sunlight punched your irises. The curtains. You forgot the damn curtains.

"You guys gotta stop doing that... I have a door, you know." You rubbed your eyes.

It was Mihael. How nice of her to wait over night to scold you for your behaviour. You weren't naive; you knew Adriel would go complain to his friend. But you were smart enough to know she wouldn't say anything about it. It's been centuries since she learned you could actually feel. Yet she never said a word about it to Chamuel or Jophiel. You did not fully trust her, but she was okay.

"What is it like to sleep ?" Mihael was always curious, but she lacked the bravery to try. Whether it was food, walking, sex, or, in that case, sleep, to satisfy her hunger for knowledge and experimentation, she came to you.

"Mmh, peaceful.. I guess-" You looked down at your chest and decided you had enough that people kept catching you half naked. So you snatched up your tank top and got up.

"Just peaceful ? That's it ?" She jumped on through the window on your bed, shoes on. Ugh.

"Yeah, yeah, and... energised too. Listen, Mihael, why don't you tell me what you want ?"

Yes, you were a bit rude, but you just didn't have time; you needed to get to Aziraphale to discuss where the boy might be. And if you wonder, you never went to Crowley's flat. Risking being caught by unexpected visitors was enough of a reason to not visit.

"Right, right ! So..." She looked down, gloomy. "It's time, Y/N; we're going to unfold the Bound soon." She confessed with a sad smile.

You shuddered. Fuck. You forgot about that.

"You know, the four horsmen are being summoned, and we need to lay off the Love so War can fully step in."

"Yeah, I can't come into my full power..."

"Really ? Me too !" She chirped, delighted that you shared her point of view. You scoffed but smiled anyway. It's really a shame she'll never get to experience human life.

"So, now we must turn off the flow of love and go back to heaven to prepare for war."

You ruffled your hair and grabbed a drink of water. Mihael's piercing eyes were etched on the glass, and you handed it to her with a sigh. She looked so happy, you almost wanted to laugh. How selfless of you...

She didn't quite know how to drink, however, but you decided to let her test the water, so to speak. Mihael coughed a bit.

"Does that mean hate demons will rise too ?" You interrogated, your tone genuinely dull.

"Oh, they better not ! They'll have to wait for the battle to start, those worthless rascals..."

The cupid suddenly gasped and looked at you with guilt. You know she didn't mean to insult him. Your lip twitched, but you sent her a reassuring smile. Still, she couldn't shake the regret out of her scent.

"You know, maybe he didn't turn into a hate demon..." Her sweet voice faltered as she went on.

"It's fine, Mihael. You should go; I'm sure Adriel is waiting for you." You cajoled her while leading her to the door. Yes, you have a door.

"About that..." She stopped and turned around. Her dark pink eyes just scanned yours to convey what she meant. Not that she had to; you could smell the snowy nights from miles away. "Just be careful, Y/N."

Her advice kind of fell on deaf ears. You were always cautious, but you didn't live in fear of what they'd do to you if they found out you were out of line. Yet, they dread the simple thought of what you could be. You sloped against your wooden door. What a good way to start the day...

Calling off all Love so War can enter the picture. It just felt so contradictory. You were a being of love and peace; how could you be excited to see humans kill each other and fight in a war, possibly going against Crowley or... well, you knew who. You will not let this world be torn to smithereens. It's your safe place, your heaven. Your home.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You strolled through the busy London streets, eager to get to Aziraphale as quickly as possible. A few people bumped your shoulders, stomped on your toes, and cursed at you. The withdrawal of love was already happening. Unsettled in an unwelcoming environment made you skittish, and you picked up the speed.

As you reached the bookshop, you stopped to analyse its not-so-familiar presence. The energy was angelic, yes, but it was so powerful...

Shit.

Archangels. And they were just leaving.

"Whoop- !" You activated your spell hastily. The chime rang, and the two entities simply walked off.

"No war, without war. Ah ! That's quite the line !" Grabriel almost yodeled. Right. You stayed there with heavy breathing.

Subconsciously, you called off the spell. Or maybe you didn't cast it in the first place. In any case, you didn't expect to feel the pressure of someone's hand on your shoulder.

"AH !"

Adding to the fact that your heart was about to explode just a second ago' the speed of your twirl did nothing to help you stay steady on your feet. Luckily for you, Aziraphale was alert enough to come to your rescue. He pressed his hand against your scapula and held you against his torso. You felt the side of your mouth twitch.

"I'm sorry, dear. I didn't realise how nervous you were." He jived, his cheekbones showing. But the smell of grapefruit told you you were not the only one nervous here.

"What did they want ?" You asked, feeling the ground with your own two feet again.

"Oh, they were just checking the status of the Antichrist." He opened the door for you and followed your lead.

"Why ? Did they suspect anything ?"

"Surprisingly, no. Not a thing." He shrugged in disbelief. You liked the scent of disbelief m: custard. Yes, just custard. Kinda hard to believe, heh ?

"Mh, Crowley's right... Heaven's not very bright, heh ?" You snickered. You sat on the couch and happily watched him chuckle.

"It seems so. It kind of makes me wonder if we are too." He took his place next to you.

"Oh no, we're bright." You started, glancing at him while pretending to reflect. "But we're also walking disasters.." You snorted.

"We can say the same about Crowley, then." He laughed and slid his right leg underneath his left thigh. You giggled and took a big breath of the new smell. Ah, freesia and blueberry pie; there's nothing better.

"Absolutely." You leaned back on the seat, literally comforted by the scent. "I just don't understand... What happened during the baby swap ?"

A few minutes pass. Minutes later, you just stared at each other. Before finally realising what might be the source of the problem.

"I think... I'm going to call Crowley reel quick-"

The ringtone of the bookshop's phone rang, interrupting you. Aziraphale quickly got up, with the help of his hand on your knee.

"Maybe it's him." He muttered while picking it up. "Hello, Fell's Bookshop, what can I do for you ?"

You waited for him. For a few seconds. Then you got bored. You left Eden at home, so you didn't have any company. So you decided to roam around the library.

"The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter ?"

The sculpture of a prancing horse proudly sat on a small table. You always had a lot of fun drawing the details with your fingers since the day he created his bookshop, which was also the first day you ate chocolate, if you remember correctly. You blew away the little dust that settled on his back, and flew right at you, making you cough.

"But there are..." He stopped to see what you were doing. You smiled, charming him up. His nose simply twitched before resuming. "There are no copies of her book available."

You stepped away from the horse and instead looked through Aziraphale's prophecy books. It has always amused me how humans try so helplessly to predict what the future holds. You were no stranger to the thought; you had your fair share of doubts about your own future. However, you learned what happens when you ask too many questions.

"I don't have it. Nobody has-" The sudden silence pushed you to study the angel's face. Apparently, the correspondent wasn't the most polite boy. His mouth was set in a hard line, and he stuck his nose in the air. He was so outraged that he reeked of watermelon and curry. You would agree that it's not a nice combination. Also, you hadn't noticed, but his glasses were quite fancy on him. You shook the thought away.

"Well, there really is no need for that kind of language." He hung up and put down his glasses. You couldn't help but stare for a moment. His bright, white hair caught the sun in its lock, giving him a glow to his already stunning face. Oh, stop already, will you ?

When you finally gawked back at the shelves, a huge brown spider welcomed you.

"Fuck- !" You yelled and fell back down with a loud thud, knocking a few books on your way. Azirphale gasped and sprinted by your side.

"Are you okay ?" He was very anxious. You were just embarrassed out of your mind.

"I'm fine... Let's just call Crowley already."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Hey, this is Anthony Crowley. You know what to do. Do it with style."

No, it wasn't the demon answering machine. It was just you mocking him. Which he didn't seem to enjoy.

"Haha, keep laughing, and I'll bring back the spider to your face." He growled. "Why are you afraid of spiders anyway? Aren't you supposed to love all animals?"

Aziraphale was such a snitch ! Right after he got Crowley on the phone, he told him about your fall. You very distinctly heard his laugh after that.

"Stop your bickering, you two! And watch the road." He sighed, not comfortable at all. He didn't like speed that much. Nonetheless, for his best, Crowley should be the one to drive. You might give him a heart attack if you were the one behind the wheel.

"You've lost the boy."

"We've lost him." He corrected.

"A child has been lost. But you still know his age." He started to point.

"We know." He once again corrected

"We get it: you don't want to be the only one responsible." You rolled your eyes. Congratulations! You earned yourself a growl.

"We know his birthday. He's 11." Aziraphale was trying his best to keep your attention.

"You make it sound easy."

"Well, it can't be that hard..."

"At least it reduces the search area." You flapped your hand. You were still frustrated, and you felt his discouragement slowly becoming yours. Your heart filter wasn't doing very well. We only have to find his birth record."

"And then what ?"

"Well, then we find the child." Azirphale smiled. At least you could feel his hope too.

"And then what ?"

Aziraphale didn't know what to say. He simply stared at Crowley. Until a car honk cut short his attempt to find a solution.

"Watch out for that pedestrian !" The angel bawled with alacrity.

"Woah- !" You shouted. The movement had you flying on the left side of the back seat. You've never so close to the goddamn door.

"She's on the street; she knows the risk she's taking." He dissmissed. "And I'm sure it would help you two stop breathing down my neck."

You scoffed.

Oh, I'll give you 'breathing down your neck.

You scooted over to the right seat and leaned behind Crowley. Your mouth grazed his ear, and you felt the tiniest tilt of his head, like he forced himself not to move. So prideful, you joked to yourself.

"Just watch the road." You breathed down his neck. You grinned as you watched gooey bumps form on his skin. He really hated it. You laughed and pulled back. You patted his shoulders and repeated yourself. "Watch the road."

Your laughter died out as you saw Aziraphale gulp. You took back your place in the middle, almost guilty.

"Sorry, I forgot about personal space again."

Crowley's sunglasses blocked your view of his eyes; you couldn't tell if you had overstepped. We can all thank Aziraphale for his help in easing the tension.

Where is this hospital, anyway? He asked. He rubbed his sweaty palm on his trousers in an attempt to calm his nerves. Crowley coughed.

"Mh, a village near Oxford: Tadfield. His neck was still tensed. You really strung a string, huh?

"Crowley, you can't do 90 miles per hour in central London !"

"Why not ?"

"You'll get us killed! Well, inconveniently disincorporated. He granted.

"Oh God, no, not the paperwork..." You got disincorporated once, and it took you two years to finally get a new one. Still, you're sure it had been improperly delayed.

"Music ! Why don't I put on a little music...?" He hummed quizzically and looked over at you. "Do you know the Velvet Underground?"

"You wouldn't like it." Crowley interjected.

"Well, it kind of feels like you've been high the whole time."

"Oh, bepop!" He recognised you. You eyed him in disbelief before nodding.

"... Right-"

"Yah !" Aziraphale yelped. Crowley did a swerve to the right, flying you away in that direction.

"Brute !"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The air was stuffy. Like on a deeply hot day. It was overwhelming, too. As you left the car, you scanned around you, discretely sniffing the wind. It was not held in a constant flow of emotion; it permeated the air. But it felt good. It wasn't threatening in its presence; it just existed and belonged.

"Y/N ?" Crowley called out, standing in front of the manor gates next to Aziraphale. You studied the ark, made of bricks and white stone. The whole building was surrounded by metal fences, where you could at least see the central courtyard. Which seemed cluttered with a bunch of stuff.

"You're sure this is the right place? You wondered, doubtful.

You went to them, attempting to filter that particular emotion.

"It doesn't really look like a hospital." Aziraphale agreed with you when you got to their level.

But then it hit you. You gasped, like you'd been punched in the stomach. You grabbed the angel's arm to not collapse. That was so strong. You haven't felt such things in a long, long time.

"What is it ?" Crowley asked. You chuckled.

"It feels so loved." You gazed up. Aziraphale straightened your arm while he searched for it too. You pressed your hand to your chest. Your heart filter was giving you trouble, yes, but you sure as hell wouldn't complain about it.

"No, it's definitely the place. Crowley spoke, his tone faint.

"They're right..." He smiled at you, thrilled by the fulfilling sensation of love.

"Uh-hu... Sure, can we go see the nuns now ?" He led the way.

You scoffed. "Grumpy pants..." You followed in second.

Despite that, you looked at Aziraphale and giggled. You were glad to finally be able to share your joy without risking destruction for it. Immediately after, you three got shot by something.

"Argh !" For once, the three of you simultaneously exclaimed.

Crowley got hit inside his vest, right above the heart. In your case, the sharp pain was localised to your right hip. As for Aziraphale, the "bullet" struck his calf, making him hop on one foot for a second.

"What..."

You touched where the impact occurred and saw it was just... paint ?

"Blue ?" Aziraphale asked, ever-so-confused.

"Heh, yellow." You snorted. Oh, you've got red. You noticed Crowley's chest was covered with red paint. "One more, and we're Power Rangers.."

"Hey !" A nasal voice hollered. Crowley took one step forward in front of you and Aziraphale. The man in army clothing scoffed. What... are they doing out there? You saw the angel shuffle to see the state of his pants. "You've all been hit! I don't know what you think you're playing at-"

Crowley abruptly roared as his demon self and the whiny player fainted. "Well, that was fun." He smirked.

"Well, yes, fun for you. Look at the state of those trousers !" Aziraphale pivoted his leg for you to see. "I've kept them in tip-top condition for over 180 years now." Crowley started to circle around the both of you. "Oh, I'll never get this stain out."

"You could just miracle it away." You shuddered, saddened by his concern.

"Mmh, yes, but... Well, I would always know the stain was there." He explained, his tone brittle. You pouted with a smile. Ah, such pleading eyes ! How could you say no ? You twirled your wrist around, waving the paint away.

"Oh, thank you." You smiled and enjoyed the whiff of old books. The smell of thankfulness, if you wondered. You spotted the strange gun on the ground and picked it up.

"What a weird piece of hardware..." You enjoyed the design of it, actually. Might copy it, too. Replace the paintball stocking compartment with a crossbow flight groove and riser...

"Expert in the field ?" Crowley snorted before taking the gun away. "Don't your lot disapprove of guns ?" He asked and pretended to aim your way.

"Unless they're in the right hands," Aziraphale said, confiscating the weapon. "Then they give weight to a moral argument." His explanation seemed to amuse the demon, who had a big grin plastered on his face.

"A moral argument ? Really ?" He bugged the two of you. You were just thankful. Aziraphale took the subject into his own hands and just shrugged. He laughed a bit before walking towards the building.

"Come on."

Inside, a few posters and a board were displayed that showed the rules of "the paintball game". The reception seemed to also stock a few guns and helmets. Soon, they won't have to just play war... You heard the commotion through the window, plus a kindhearted "Fuck off" too.

"Charming..." Aziraphale mumbled to your right.

"Wonder where the nuns went ?" Crowley took a brochure from the little table on your left and inspected it.

"Any information about the former satanic maternity in that little paper of yours?" You teased. The demon forced a laugh before throwing the brochure away.

On your way, you encountered a young woman running your way.

"Oh, Millie from Accounts caught me on the elbow." She groaned. You ended up stopping diagonally. The angel bent slightly in front of her to check for a possible wound at her elbow. "Who's winning?"

"You're all going to lose." Crowley announced, since he was closer to her. He snapped his fingers, obviously operating a miracle. In an instant, the splashy sound of the bullets started to sound more like a machine gun than a fairly hurtful but still non-lethal weapon. The woman ran off.

"Huh..."

What the hell did you just do? Aziraphale snapped with frantic movements.

"Well, they wanted real guns, so I gave them what they wanted, he mused, visibly proud of himself. You followed right behind him. You couldn't help your incredulity and stared at him, mouth agape.

Once you got to a window, you and Aziraphale pressed against the window and saw barrels exploding, sparks, and dust everywhere.

"Crowley !" You stressed, running up to him.

"There are people out there shooting at each other. "The guardian lamented by your side.

"Well, it lends weight to their moral argument." He kicked a door, shattering glass in the process. Aziraphale joined his hands and fidgeted with his fingers.

"Everyone has free will, including the right to murder. Just think of it as a microcosm of the universe."

"Oh, don't try to lecture us, buddy !

"They're murdering each other." Aziraphale stood before Crowley, stopping him in his tracks. You joined him.

You saw Crowley roll his eyes, despite his glasses. "No, they aren't. No one's killing anyone; they're all having miraculous escapes. It wouldn't be any fun otherwise. He explained it before our pleading eyes.

You scoffed. You shared a knowing smile with Aziraphale. Sometimes, you forget that Crowley is actually a good person and are worried that he might harm humans. But he never did. Deep down, he really loved humankind. In a teasing mood, the two of you started to walk away in front of Crowley, discussing his case.

"Aah, what a softie." It was a real claim. One thing that the demon didn't particularly appreciate was that you felt him boil in your back. Aziraphale nodded.

"Of course. I've always said that, deep down, he really is a nice guy. He began, but gasped instead.

Well, both of you did.

Crowley had suddenly roared and seized you by your collars. He roughly pulled back, colliding both of your bodies against his. You stumbled back; your head clued his upper chest. You grabbed on to his waist to not fall. Aziraphale had landed a bit higher, at neck level, and was able to meet his gaze. He also stood approximately straight, while you were quite curled up against Crowley.

"Shut it ! I'm a demon; I'm not nice! You felt his voice rumble in his chest. You gulped. You weren't scared by any means, just... mh, troubled? "I'm never 'nice'. Nice is a four-letter word. I will not have-"

"Excuse me, gentlemen ?"

The pair both turned their heads towards the professional voice. All you could do was try to nuzzle your way up Crowley's arm to peek over the black vest.

"Sorry to break up an intimate moment. Can I help you? She slowed down, and Crowley had time to recognise her. You gazed up at him but couldn't quite make out his expression. Nor his smell.

"You." His grip loosened. You helped yourself back up with the help of your stretched-out arm. You saw Aziraphale analyse Crowley's expression.

"Saints and demons preserve us; it's Master Crowley-" The woman with short hair stepped back. She didn't have time to flee, however, as the demon snapped her in place.

"You didn't have to do that; you could have just asked her. Aziraphale scolded him while fixing his suit. Crowley opened his mouth wide and made an offended sound. Alright, let's not discuss what just happened, then... You felt the angel's hand dust your shoulder swiftly.

"Of course, of course ! No. Yeah. 'Excuse me, ma'am, we're three supernatural entities just looking for the notorious Son of Satan. I wonder if you might help us with our inquiries." He spat and flashed his teeth in a scornful manner.

"Of course, of course ! No. Yeah. 'Excuse me, ma'am, we're three supernatural entities just looking for the notorious Son of Satan. Wonder if you might help us with our inquiries ?'" He spat and flashed his teeth in a scornful manner. You shot him a disapproving look but didn't say anything.

You walked up to her and let Aziraphale do the questioning.

"Mh..." He coughed, unsure. "Look... hello." His smile was always so sweet. You breathed a laugh and shook your head at your proximity. "You weren't, by any chance, a nun here at this convent 11 years ago, were you ?"

"I was." She acquiesced, completely transfixed.

"Mmh, luck of the devil." Eyebrow raised, you looked at Aziraphale, who had quite the cocky little smile on his face. You glanced at Crowley and held yourself back from snorting at the sight of your shared experience.

"What happened to the baby that was given to you ?" You asked.

"I swapped him with the son of the American ambassador. Such a nice man." You caught the smell of sun-soaked sand. You couldn't help but smile when you felt how fond she was of the memory. "He used to be the ambassador of Swindon." She added.

Honestly, you were relieved you found as much confusion on their faces as you felt. Crowley shrugged and shook his head, showing that he had no clue what the fuck she was talking about.

"Then Sister Theresa Garrulous came and took the other baby away."

"This American ambassador—what was his name ? Where did he come from ? And what did he do with the baby ?" The demon snarled, his red hair flying everywhere.

"I don't know."

"Records." Aziraphale insisted. "There must have been records." He gestured for her to continue.

"Yes. There were lots of records. We were very good at keeping records."

"Good; so where can we find them?" You questioned.

"They were unfortunately burned in the fire."

Crowley groaned and threw it back in pure annoyance. "Hastur !"

Aziraphale queried again.

"Is there anything you remember about the baby?"

"He had lovely little toesies-woesies." Her response brought a smile to your face, matching Aziraphale's. Crowley obviously had enough and took off.

"Let's go."

"You will wake, having had a lovely dream about whatever you like best. He miracled. You added a good memory orb discreetly for good measure.

"Oi." Crowley called.

As you approached outside, the sirens overtook all sound, and you saw dozens of policemen evacuating the players and taking their rigged weapons.

"You'd think he'd show up, wouldn't you ? You'd think we could detect him in some way." Aziraphale notified. He waved away a bit of smoke.

"He won't show up. Not to us. Protective camouflage." Crowley reached behind your back and pulled on Aziraphale's arm firmly, dragging you along. A bullet zoomed to your right.

"He won't even know it, but his powers will keep him hidden from prying occult forces."

You were nearing the exit, and the air felt heavy in your lungs. The stress you felt was really increasing as the trail of the investigation plummeted. Plus, the fact that love was slowly disappearing was freaking you out of your mind. You felt a constant pull trying to get you back to heaven, where all the love was stored away. Everything was just too nerve-wrecking for your dysfunctional little heart.

"Occult forces ?" You heard Aziraphale's question.

"Well, you know, us."

You watched the angel's features contort into perplexity.

"We're not occult." Crowley sighed at his objection. "Angels aren't occultists; we're ethereal."

You didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the pressure of it all, or just the fact that Aziraphale still at to make such shallow precision, but you giggled quietly at first. The more it grew, the more it alerted the two entities. It was apparently communicative since they also started laughing softly. You continued to joke on your way to the car. You took you regular seat back, and smiled foundly as the two in the front.

Yeah, Armaggedon was bad. But at least you didn't have to face it on your own.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Hard day for Y/N, I hope you won't get any bruises ! ;)

If you have any question about your character (yourself in a sense), I'll do my best to answer without spoilers ^^

Hope you enjoyed it ! Bye !

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Tag list : @legendary-maddie @kpop-athena @drugs-for-memes @emo-queer-boi @cunning-girl @mochikofi @brain-has-left @cup-of-tee007 @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @somekale08 @liyacreate @msyolocat-blog @scoliobean @notahappystan @nebulagoddess @ray-rook @brain-has-left @mxxny-lupin @bluebear19 @yvonneeeee @kniselle @dmitrytherat @lookingforlifeoutthere @neenieweenie @lunalixya

#crowley x reader x aziraphale #good omens #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #david tennant #micheal sheen #neil gaiman #ineffable husbands #good omens s2 #twoscompanythreesafamily #lgbtq

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thorin-is-a-cuddler · 9 months

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Don't leave your demon uncuddled

A/N: Crowley wants cuddles, but Aziraphale never stops reading. This calls for drastic measures.

When Crowley had introduced Aziraphale to the marvels of staying in bed all day – all week, all month, not yet all year – long, he’d had a very specific picture in mind: the two of them wrapped around each other, respective noses buried in shades of cream-colored and auburn-tinted hair, eyes merely opening to exchange glances of fond admiration, warmth encompassing them both in a timeless embrace, a fest of never seizing cuddles.

In Crowley’s opinion, this plan should have worked out fine. Not a single obstacle had presented itself to him when he’d set out to tempt the angel into the gentle embrace of warm blankets and soft pillows. What the demon had underestimated at the time, was the power of Aziraphale’s books.

If the angel were asked to list his favourite things since… well always, he’d most certainly list Crowley first and foremost. The mention of his books were, nevertheless, only one breath away.

So, quite unexpectedly, since Aziraphale’s introduction to spending quality time in bed, Crowley had not been succumbed to countless hours of cuddling, but to a quite unsatisfyingly absent angel whose face tended to disappear behind the pages of a leather bound classic. Moving between the covers and pillows ended up being rather unpleasant, since numerous pointy hardbacks stuck out on either side of the mattress. And if he got really unlucky, Aziraphale even left their pillow fort for a while, putting many cold miles between their vessels, only to return with more books.

To be fair, the giddy face of the angel who seemed to experience a whole new level of dedication to his favourite hobby was rather endearing and Crowley could not seriously bring himself to complain to Aziraphale about the lack of physical attention to himself. Besides, the angel was a rather entertaining reader, exclaiming and gasping and giggling all the while which did give Crowley some fun hours, as he simply watched him, curled up by his side, shaking his demonic head with a soft smile.

Sometimes Aziraphale had found good compromises: petting Crowley’s back while reading out loud to him or drawing the lines on the pages out with a single finger between Crowley’s shoulder blades. He was also really unbothered about Crowley’s choosing of which way to position himself around or on top of the angel, across his belly, next to his side, underneath his arm – nothing disturbed Aziraphale when he was reading.

Crowley had therefore enjoyed some of the time they’d passed in bed together.

But after two weeks of frequent reading and of books piling up around them like a flooding tide, Crowley did start to feel like he was drowning in old ink and crinkly pages. And it had to come to an end.

“Angel,” he moaned, when hours had passed with only the sound of pages turning, the repetition transforming it into a form of torture to his ears. He was curled up by Aziraphale’s side, the blanket allowing for nothing but his hair and his yellow eyes to stick out – his expression was all but pleased. “Aziraphale!!” He repeated, slipping his head out from underneath the blanket entirely, intensifying the glare he directed up at the angel’s face.

“Hmmm?” He asked, not even looking at the demon, his blue eyes glued on the pages that shielded him from the warm and welcome temptation of snuggling in peace.

Crowley groaned and had to summon all his lazy powers to slip out one arm from underneath the comfort of the blanket. He moved it up to put his hand between the stupid book and the angelic face. “Haven’t you done enough reading for now?”

Aziraphale swatted Crowley’s hand away like a pestering fly and didn’t pay much attention to his responding hiss. “Crowley, why don’t you just go back to sleep, that’s a dear.”

Surprisingly, the displeased look in Crowley’s eyes grew even less pleased than prior and the demon struggled to pull out arm number two from within the sweet – and currently only – embrace of his blanket to cross both of them over his chest meaningfully. “Can’t you just put your book down for a few months and… just…” cuddle meee?, he continued in his head, but a sudden twang of insecurity avoided the words from leaving his tongue.

His lips turned into a thin line, when Aziraphale’s sole reaction consisted of a quickly uttered: “What? Yes, jolly good, indeed.”

Fiddling with his hands, he sighed and glared at the ceiling for a while.

“You’re not going to pay attention to me then?” He asked eventually, moving his head to look at the angel’s face. And just then did a small smile and a very smugly raised eyebrow grace that oh so innocent face.

“I guess not.”

Ohh, thought Crowley. Ohhhh. That was how he wanted to play? Foolish, foolish angel. No one could beat Crowley at a game of ‘You can’t get a reaction out of me anyway’. That was a challenge, the demon was more than apt to live up to.

A smile took over his brooding features as he nodded to himself, feigning peacefulness, his eyebrows rising just as smugly as the angels’ had. “Huh.”

Another page was turned – extremely slowly and extremely loudly. Crowley narrowed his eyes. The angel was still smirking ever so slightly, thinking himself clever. The smile on Crowley’s features grew.

“I see. Don’t let me disturb you then, I’ll just get a little more comfortable.” Lifting his upper-body, Crowley crawled on top of his angel, placing a hand on either side of his body, before lowering himself down. His head came to a rest on Aziraphale’s belly, the soft cotton of his pyjama smelling of fresh waterlilies. With a loud sigh, Crowley cuddled himself as close to the angel’s body as possible, his arms finding the space between the small of his back and the mattress to cross underneath and wrap him up in his embrace.

Aziraphale didn’t allow any of that to disturb him in the least. Behind his book, hidden from view, he bit his bottom-lip, concealing a little smirk. Mischief was in the air and he was quite prepared to see whatever Crowley would come up with to gain his attention. The letters on the pages turned into senseless repetitions of the same line, his attention not really remaining with his lecture.

Crowley was feeling particularly mischievous in that very moment and he was in a rather perfect position to act out his mean little plan. Moving his chin over Aziraphale’s tummy, he tightened his grip around him ever so slightly. Suddenly he buried his nose in the soft, angelic belly and inhaled deeply. “Ahh, you smell so good, angel.”

Aziraphale’s grip on his book grew a little stronger. Oh dear, maybe he was in more trouble than he’d expected. “Crowley,” he warned meaningfully, conveying unmistakeably with his tone of voice that the demon better not do what he appeared very much about to do.

“Yes?” The demon answered innocently, a playful grin settling on his face, as he started circling Aziraphale’s belly with the tip of his nose.

“I’m warning you.” The angel stated, shifting a little on the covers and lifting one hand from his book to hold up a reprimanding finger. His face stayed hidden behind the hardback copy which merely propelled Crowley’s grin to new dimensions of evil.

“I’m not doing anything.” He lied, placing a kiss in the middle of Aziraphale’s belly, before more kisses followed - to his sides, to his ribs, to his hips, all soft spaces that got Aziraphale to hold his breath and press his lips together tightly.

He tried not to react too strongly to the sensations spreading on his midriff, but truly, Crowley started to tickle him more and more and soon enough, Aziraphale was sure of it, it would become unbearable. He cleared his throat and shifted around some more, trying to distract himself with the sentences under his nose, but it was to no avail. He was about to lose their little game, but he tried to stay afloat for as long as he possibly could. Little titters of laughter tinted his voice when next he spoke. “You- you will regret this.”

“I sure hope I will.” Crowley answered, his smirk audible in every syllable and all hell broke loose when next he dipped his head to Aziraphale’s tummy and started growling into it. A loud screech left the angel’s lungs as he slipped out of his comfortable sitting position, starting to hit Crowley’s head with the next best weapon – which turned out to be the very enemy, the book itself.

“NOO!!” The sweetest squeals emerged from the bibliophile angel as Crowley continued to snarl, growl, gnaw and nibble all over the cotton covered ticklish belly at his mercy, paying no heed to the painful attempts at self-defence directed at his poor head. “DON’T DO THAT!!! OH CROWLEY YOU’LL-“ A peal of high-pitched laughter cut off Aziraphale’s line of thought as wily fingers started prodding his sides, adding to the unbearable sensations that overpowered his vessel.

“I’ll what? Tickle you until you pop? Maybe sooo.” Crowley snickered when Aziraphale finally tossed the dangerous book aside and started pushing and hitting at him with his hands instead, his scrunched up face decorated with the sweetest smile and his cheeks painted a very rosy colour.

“I BEG OF YOU!! STOP THIS!!”

Crowley merely smirked lazily, rubbing his face against Aziraphale’s ticklish sides and wiggling his fingers into easily accessible ribs on either side of his favourite body, never wishing for one second to stop.

“Can’t ignore me now, can you?”

Aziraphale arched his back as best he could and pushed his head into a bunch of pillows violently. They went flying, coming in handy and appearing a new wonderful weapon against Crowley’s ticklish attack. The demon started laughing when one of them came down next on his tousled hair, softer than the previous weapons, but nevertheless dangerous in the hands of the angel.

“Hey, stop hitting me!” He chuckled, removing one arm from underneath Aziraphale’s back to protect himself, trying to pull the pillow from the other’s grasp.

“NEVER YOU FOUL DEMONIC-“ Aziraphale choked on a new wave of laughter when Crowley’s hand disappeared underneath his arm, fingers hitting the centre of his armpit and making it impossible for him to keep from squeaking with laughter. The pillow was left harmless on the mattress next to the pair, as Aziraphale tried to curl up into a little ball.

Crowley followed his every move, expertly attacking whichever weak spot revealed itself next, until Aziraphale’s position on the bed had changed from upright to sideways.

“TRUTH, TRUTH!!” The angel squeaked when Crowley’s fingers were gently scribbling up his sides, kisses tickling him underneath his chin. “YOU GOT ME! I GIVE UP! I DO! CROWELY!!”

Chuckling softly, Crowley stilled his skilful fingers and removed his mouth from Aziraphale’s sensitive neck. The angel was panting, a big smile on his face and small titters still spilling from his lips.

Crowley had missed their tickle fights especially during these last two weeks of the angel’s insatiable hunger for books. Nothing was as sweet as his angel’s reaction to having Crowley kiss and tickle all over his middle. Though Aziraphale would probably not agree with him on this – he kept teasing that nothing could be sweeter than his demon flailing like a bug in the water whenever Aziraphale’s fingers came near his hips or the backside of his ribs.

“You,” Aziraphale exclaimed when his breathing allowed it, “are in for quite the ordeal!”

“Oh, am I?” Crowley chuckled, pushing their noses together and planting a quick kiss on the angel’s lips. “Do you really think you’d have the singlest tidbit of a chance against me right now?”

Aziraphale threw his head back with another peal of laughter when Crowley’s fingers continued their ticklish way up his sides. “NO NO!! NOT A ONE!! CROWLEY PLEASE!!”

“Not a one.” Crowley repeated meaningfully and grabbed Aziraphale’s shoulder to roll them over, grinning happily up at his angel’s bright face. “I won. Now I demand-“ He stopped himself, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

“Cuddles?” Aziraphale offered, smirking knowingly.

Crowley growled and hissed in response, but his blushed cheeks made it lack any vigour. “Yes, that!!” He spat out, before burying his face in Aziraphale’s neck and turning them over again.

Aziraphale smirked at the demon’s antics, wrapping his arms around him to pull him as close to his body as possible and allowing him to keep his face hidden at his neck. “You shall have your cuddles then, you wily snake.”

Crowley grabbed the blanket and pulled it around them, before letting out the loudest sigh of relief, happily enveloped in the hug he had wished for. Occasionally he allowed his snake tongue to slip out between his lips to tickle Aziraphale’s neck. But apart from that, their cuddle session was not interrupted for an impressive amount of time. And Crowley couldn’t have been happier.

#good omens #tickle fic #good omens fluff #ticklish!aziraphale #tickling #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #cuddles #snuggles #pillow fights #don't ignore the lil snake aziraphale

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vidavalor · 8 months

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So if Aziraphale didn't know that Crowley had lost his flat... but then the show also establishes in 2.01 pretty early on that Aziraphale knows that Crowley is in frequent contact with Shax, even if Aziraphale doesn't personally meet her until "The Hitchhiker" then...

...does Aziraphale think that Crowley is living with Shax? lol

Does he see Crowley keeping the plants in The Bentley to protect them and getting plenty of use out of the bookshop by staying over more often as Crowley forced by Hell to have a terrible roommate?

Did he one time express sympathy to Crowley about how difficult it must be to lose his space and Crowley realized what he thought and that this was a good excuse? Did he start spinning yarns about Shax and how terrible it was, in case he ever got caught out napping in The Bentley around the corner from the bookshop?

Is Aziraphale secretly jealous that Crowley's shacked up with an apparently not hideous demon that Crowley might be bitching about just a *little too much* that makes Aziraphale wonder if he secretly likes her? Especially since Crowley's a traitor and he's staying there so she won't mind being seen with him and he's indicated he doesn't really hate her company and he's taken her to the park and is teaching her demon on Earth stuff and honestly...

...if I had been going through that since the lockdowns with the hot demon I loved and I was as adorably petty as Aziraphale is, I, too, would take the completely unnecessary step of leaving a gorgeous, amnesiac archangel wrapped in nothing but my blanket in my bookshop and having Crowley meet me in the coffee shop after the whole neighborhood had seen said archangel-- whom Crowley once called "beautiful" *on a date lol* in 1827-- show up on my doorstep in the nude and hug me hello, knowing that there was basically no human on earth who could resist mentioning that... only to *not tell Crowley why we were meeting in the coffee shop while we were actually *in* the coffee shop and, instead, bringing him back to get jump-scared by Gabriel wearing my tartan bedsheet around the bookshop*...all proving I just could have had asked Crowley to *come to the bookshop* and skipped the entire step of the coffee shop scene... meaning that it only exists to make Crowley a little jealous and let him think that someone stayed the night in the bookshop that wasn't him.

You got Miranda Richardson in a new costume, Crowley? Well, I got me himbo Don Draper. He's got his naked ass on my chair that you *live* to lounge around in and the sun's barely come up, my dearest.

Move your damn plants in, Crowley.

#ineffable husbands #good omens #it's a rom com really #crowley #aziraphale #good omens 2 #shax #the archangel fucking gabriel

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kotias · 4 months

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We Are In Our Eden - Gentle Winter

Part of the series We Are In Our Eden, co-written with @daneecastle and all set in That South Down Cottage.

Gentle Winter

Word count: 671 words

Winter had settled much quicker than usual in the region.

One week, Crowley was basking in the sun in their garden, the next week he was shivering in a blanket and clutching the hot pocket that Aziraphale had prepared for him against his stomach. Shuffling around the cottage like a clumsy ghost, he was seeking any source of heat he could find, desperate to keep himself from falling into his usual winter slumber. But eventually, his body complained loudly enough that he caved, and stayed in bed for the entire day, gorging himself into the angel's lingering warmth and smell.

This. This had to be his best winter yet.

He had tried to convince Aziraphale to stay one hour -two hours -come on angel, you have all day, stay!- But sadly, it didn't work. He did not fully despair however- like the brat that he could be, he would call out to him regularly, asking for undivided attention and for the return of his warmth and smell into the bed, even for just five, ten minutes. And of course, the angel indulged. He was holding him tight, nuzzling into his neck, purring into his ear, peppering kisses wherever skin appeared.

“Crowley! Your kisses are distracting me. Either you do something about it or you let me get up so I can make a hot bath for us. What is it?"

Crowley huffed into his neck, refusing to budge. Oh, a bath sounded tempting! “No moving. Miracle the damn bathwater in and I'll get us in it." He was getting drunk on his smell, desperate to keep him close.

More than once in the past, he had mumbled about only catching up on six millennia of waiting, at times when Aziraphale was gently complaining about having things to do, requiring them to let go. He was so full of it all, of the love he had not been allowed to feel.

“Crowley!" He tried to wiggle free but the snake was not letting loose his coils. “Crowley, dear, I can't miracle everything. Sometimes the good things involve actually going through the process of doing it." He waited for a moment, but Crowley was far too busy growling with content against his body.

“That's a big fat lie, angel, there's nothing worse than waiting for the bath to fill. Look-" He snapped his fingers, and the bath was filled with hot water.

“Crowley, you are being such a brat!" He tried to get free again, but the demon was quite adamant about his need to stay tightly coiled around him.

Of course, he was eventually rewarded with fingers going through his hair, making him purr into his neck. “Your turn now, bring us into the bathtub."

“Ah- hmph. Fine. Then let loose your coils, you wily snake!"

He huffed again, but obliged, letting him go for the time being. "Off we pop then, angel."

Aziraphale sat up and got out of bed. He turned around and pulled the warm blankets off the demon and off the bed entirely, like the petty bastard that he was. “Now get up and get undressed!" He turned away, starting to undo his nightgown. “Or no Hanky Panky!"

Crowley's jaw dropped. “I am in shock!" He slapped the back of his hand on his forehead. “Betrayal! By my own lover! Help me, universe, get me out of this terrible situation!" He cried out, just loud enough that he was confident Aziraphale heard each of his lamentations. But he was fucking cold, and there was no way he'd stay in this situation, now with the covers all gone and having lost their warmth. Concentrating, he let the presence of the angel fill his mind, let himself figure out where exactly he was, before snapping his fingers and leaving his clothes behind as he popped out of the room. “Seriously angel, was it really that difficult?" He mused, now inside the bathtub with barely a splash, an arm resting on its edge, looking at his lover with keen romantic interest.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #aziracrow #good omens 2 #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #good omens season 3 #GO3 #good omens 3

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forsssnaken · 5 months

Text

Aziraphale's Literary Discovery

Important note: I am no longer writing stuff like this. It was a nice way for me to be happy while in a rather precarious mental state, but I no longer enjoy it all the same way I once did. I'm keeping it up as it was a gift, and there are still people who may enjoy it, but I am unhappy with my writing how it was in this fic, and I don't enjoy writing this stuff anymore. I still write good omens fanfics now, if you want to give me a chance there.

THIS. IS. A. TICKLING. FIC. COMPLETELY. SFW.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS @practickles!!! I am your squealing santa this year :)) I hope this is everything you hoped for and more!! (and now i can follow you without being worried that i'll blow my cover lol)

@squealing-santa

screw canon(/j), they are happy together and have tickles.

switch!aziraphale, switch!crowley.

cw: light mentions of alcohol/sobering up magically, cursing (because it's Crowley), using a miracle to pin someone that could be read as invisible bondage.

Aziraphale turned a page in his book, but wasn't really reading anymore. This had been happening more and more often: he would stop reading just to think about the demon who was currently asleep on his couch.

Aziraphale and Crowley had finished off some good wine last night, and instead of sobering up, Crowley had decided to sleep it off on the bookshop's couch. The angel had sobered up, reading all through the night with the occasional glance to the demon's sleeping form.

Honestly, Aziraphale prefers Crowley awake. He loves the demon's antics and being able to spend time together (although the serenity and calmness radiating off the demon's lanky form was delightful). He didn't technically need to breathe, but he did -- soft deep breaths that were almost soft snores.

Aziraphale quickly snapped himself out of the trance he had been in, staring at his friend(?), and glancing back at the book. It was a sweet romcom, one that left Aziraphale feeling giddy and with butterflies in his stomach. The couple in his book were playful, and in the current scene, were poking each other and giggling. This was a fascinating idea that humans called "tickling", which led to supposedly uncontrollable laughter and seemed like a sweet bonding exercise.

Something clicked in his mind and he looked back at Crowley asleep on the couch, limbs splayed out haphazardly. His tight-fitting shirt had risen a little, leaving a sliver of the pale skin of his lower stomach on display. Aziraphale gasped excitedly, looking back at his book where the tickle fight was happening. Supposedly, even small touches could lead to ticklish sensations!

He stood up, beginning to creep over to the sleeping figure, before realizing that Crowley could sleep through almost anything and walking over normally. The angel stared at him with wide eyes, glancing back and forth between his calm face and the sliver of exposed stomach. He tentatively reached out a finger, poking Crowley's abdomen.

There was a faint reaction, a small breath hitching in between small snores and Crowley squirmed a bit. Was Crowley ticklish?! How silly! How human! What a delightful discovery! He giddily clapped, then began tracing the sliver of exposed skin. Crowley huffed, squirmed, and scrunched up his nose a bit, before rolling over and crossing his arms over his stomach.

Aziraphale was ecstatic at his findings, and couldn't wait to enact something rather devious (by his standards)!

A few days later, he woke a grumpy Crowley up from his nap (and if Crowley became less grumpy when he noticed that he was covered in a cozy blanket, the angel didn't need to know). Aziraphale had a mission: go on a date -- a Friend Date (he told himself, at least) -- and bring up tickling to him! The angel had an innate need to tickle Crowley now, see his presumably adorable reactions, and have the physical contact that the angel began to crave.

"Come on, Crowley!" Aziraphale grinned, pulling the demon into a seated position by his hand.

Crowley grumbled, "For what?"

Crowley seemed entirely uninterested, but in truth, he loved spending time with Aziraphale and would do anything if Aziraphale truly wanted to spend time with him.

"A picnic!" Aziraphale gestured to a wicker basket stocked full of goodies.

Crowley rolled his eyes (but was truly content with this plan), put his shoes on, and drove them to a gorgeous woodsy park. When they had found their own spot, Aziraphale spread out a blanket on the grass, sat down, and began unpacking some small sandwiches and poured them both a glass of wine.

"Not so much now, my dear boy," He handed Crowley the wine, "I'd like you awake for a little while. It's dreadfully boring being all alone and reading by myself!"

He got nothing but a grunt in return, but everything was perfect, so Aziraphale continued on with his ramblings.

In between bites of his sandwiches, he told Crowley all about the books he had been reading, but especially about the lovely rom-com he had just read.

"They had such a lovely relationship! Human love just excites me so much! They do so many sweet things together, not unlike us!"

"Ngk-" Crowley choked slightly on his wine and turned a bit pink, but Aziraphale didn't seem to notice.

"They certainly touched a lot more than we do, though, Crowley!" The angel pouted.

Crowley shrugged, "We're not having sex."

"Crowley!" Aziraphale's mouth gaped as he gasped, smacking the demon softly on his leg, "Don't say that! They touched plenty without sexual implications!"

Crowley sipped his wine, not needing to respond.

"They cuddled, and kissed, and even- well," Aziraphale cut himself off, suddenly a bit embarrassed.

This now intrigued Crowley, who sat up a bit, and looked at Aziraphale, scooting closer so they were side by side.

He teased Aziraphale, "Oh? Was it sexual then? You realized I was right and you were wrong?"

Aziraphale huffed indignantly, "No! I'm just not sure if you even know what it is!"

Oh, Crowley was so up for a challenge. "I'm sure I would! I know much more about humans than you do."

Aziraphale leaned closer, grinning and placing a hand on the blanket behind Crowley, so they were almost touching. "Oh really?"

Crowley smirked and nodded, taking his sunglasses off and stowing them safely in the picnic basket, so he could look at Aziraphale in the eyes to show him how serious he was.

"Yes, they were tickling each other!" Aziraphale grinned, hoping that Crowley wouldn't know about tickling, so he could teach him.

"Oh, that? How would I not know about that?" Crowley didn't let anything slip, so Aziraphale thought it might be possible that he just didn't know.

"Yes, I think that's quite intimate," Aziraphale reached out and placed a hand on Crowley's knee, "it seems sweet to me!"

Crowley grumbled, avoiding eye contact awkwardly. "What, is this your way of asking me to tickle you?"

Aziraphale stammered, protesting quickly, "Why would I want that?!"

Now it was Crowley's turn to look offended, "There's nothing wrong with wanting that!"

Aziraphale was now slightly grumpy; this wasn't how it was supposed to go!

Crowley had that devilish (albeit attractive) grin across his face, placing a hand on Aziraphale's side.

"This wasn't how this was supposed to goHO-" Aziraphale smacked a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

Crowley, that evil, evil demon, had squeezed Aziraphale's side! What a terrible thing for his corperal form to feel! Aziraphale, in all his planning, could not have anticipated this!

A small smirk crept across Crowley's face as he put the other hand on Aziraphale's clothed side and squeezed a few times in a row.

Aziraphale's hands flew down from his mouth to his sides, weakly pushing at Crowley's hands as he laughed heartily. His smile was beautiful. It was, well, angelic.

Crowley was right. Aziraphale thought this was quite nice. He hadn't laughed this hard in a while, and seeing Crowley's enjoyment of his reactions was amazing!

Crowley smiled widely, skittering his nimble fingers along Aziraphale's gorgeous plush stomach, before refocusing his attention on Aziraphale's thighs. Aziraphale's magnificently scrumptious thighs, currently busy with Aziraphale's frantically kicking feet. Crowley stopped, giving Aziraphale a small break, before placing his hands on those delightful thighs.

Aziraphale was not worried in the slightest; he had never heard of someone's thighs being ticklish, just the usual suspects like the upper body, feet, neck, and hips. But thighs? That seemed silly... until Crowley started squeezing them.

Aziraphale barked out a laugh, falling gently on his back as he was unable to hold himself sitting up. He made noises that were so embarrassing: he even squealed! Crowley was unwavering in his ticklish squeezing, grinning broadly. Aziraphale was laughing harder than he ever had, his head shaking back and forth as he laughed frantically, beginning to push at Crowley's hands again. This was Crowley's cue to slow down, and he moved his hands back up to the angel's stomach to gently trace shapes as Aziraphale recovered.

"Y- you're evil!" Aziraphale gasped, still giggling.

"I'm a demon, that's kind of the whole point," Crowley deadpanned, although unable to wipe the smile off his face.

Aziraphale caught his breath, then grabbed Crowley's hands. Crowley's eyes widened slightly, but he tried to play it off, scoffing.

Aziraphale sat up quickly, pushing Crowley onto his back and pinning him there with shocking strength. Crowley looked at him confused and began squirming awkwardly. Aziraphale had fully sat on his hips, pinning his arms above his head as he leaned over the demon, their faces quite close together.

"What? How did you-" Crowley stammered, baffled by Aziraphale's strength, "What are you doing?"

Aziraphale grinned, excited to give Crowley all the exposition of his plan. "When I was reading that book, I tried tickling you, when you were asleep. I poked you, and you reacted! I have to try it again!"

Crowley blushed a bit, before retorting, "Angel, anyone would react to being poked. I'm not ticklish, I'm a demon. Being ticklish is all- cute and innocent. I'm neither of those things."

"I beg to differ," Aziraphale grinned, slipping his warm hand under Crowley's tight shirt, beginning to trace circles on Crowley's stomach.

Crowley's brain short circuted. Not only was the angel on top of him, but he was touching Crowley more intimately than they'd ever touched. And Crowley did feel something -- was that being ticklish?

Crowley squirmed, averting his eyes from Aziraphale's as he clamped his mouth shut.

Aziraphale, ever so oblivious, was slightly upset that it didn't really effect Crowley like it did when he was asleep. Maybe he was controlling his reactions? Maybe he truly was right and wasn't ticklish!

Aziraphale huffed, "You really reacted the other day, I promise!"

Crowley was trying his best to not react, his serpentine eyes flicking towards Aziraphale's well-manicured hand, still tracing under his shirt.

"Ngk- just give it a rest, angel!" Crowley sputtered, feeling giggles (Yes, giggles! Demons aren't supposed to giggle!) bubbling up in his chest.

Aziraphale was starting to feel a bit hopeless; he thought it would have been incredibly endearing if Crowley was ticklish. The demon barely smiled (not counting his mischievous smirks), and Aziraphale would love to hear him laugh, truly laugh, for the first time in years. Aziraphale pouted and decided to give it one last go.

He poked Crowley in the side.

Crowley gasped, jumped, and made awkward eye contact with the angel on top of him.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, was ecstatic! A giddy smile broke across his face.

"No, angel, no. I was just startled-" Crowley said quickly, squirming.

"Oh my dear Crowley, my dear silly demon..." Aziraphale grinned.

"No angel I-" Crowley couldn't focus on being called Aziraphale's, due to the imminent danger of him being tickled.

Much to his dismay, Aziraphale began ruthlessly skittering his fingers over Crowley's stomach and sides. Damn his fashionable outfits! The shirt he was wearing was incredibly thin and did nothing to protect him from the angel's attack.

Crowley tried to keep his mouth shut and hide his reactions, but his attempts were futile. He burst out into loud laughter and squirmed as much as he could (which wasn't much). It made sense why tickling was used as a torture method in the past; he would have given up any secret that Aziraphale could ask for in this moment! Although, there was something nice about it: the intimacy, the giddy feeling, and Aziraphale's touch gave him a rush of happiness.

"Why are you laughing, my dear boy? Thought of something devious? Scheming?" Aziraphale laughed along with Crowley -- for such a supposedly evil being, he sure had a contagious laugh -- and scribbled his fingers even faster. "Or are you just... ticklish?"

And if Crowley's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink, he hoped Aziraphale didn't notice.

"You're- teasing- me!" He sputtered indignantly, through bright, happy laughter.

Aziraphale paused, pretending to look offended, "No I'm not! I'm simply asking questions to figure out why you're laughing so much!"

In the midst of talking, he wasn't paying attention to what his hands were doing. His hands moved down to the hem of Crowley's shirt, causing the demon to jump, eyes wide.

Aziraphale's eyebrow raised quickly, "Oh?"

Crowley shook his head, stammering "No," and tugging on his hands.

As both of them knew, although the angel's corporeal form was strong, Crowley could easily have gotten his arms free by non-human means. Maybe he just didn't want to.

The most devilish grin to ever cross an angels face suddenly appeared on Aziraphale's. He let go of Crowley's arms, but not before preforming a miracle that kept his arms trapped in place, taut above his head.

Crowley's snake-like eyes grew wider as he tugged frantically on his arms, beginning to giggle nervously. His whole 'bad boy' persona was completely gone now, and he was quite enjoying this (though he'd never admit such a silly thing).

"Oh Crowley," Aziraphale teased, wiggling his fingers at the squirming demon, "are you prepared for your demise?"

That shut Crowley up.

Until Aziraphale did something truly evil. Something so evil that even the higher-ups in Hell couldn't dream of. He repeatedly squeezed Crowley's hips.

Crowley made the most embarrassing noise possible -- he squealed.

"AAAAZiraphale!!!" He laughed, wiggling as much as possible, "YOU BASSSSTARD!!"

Curse that stupid hissing. Usually he was able to disguise it, whenever Aziraphale caught him off guard with accidental(?) flirting or made a silly joke that a big bad demon like himself shouldn't laugh at. Speaking of laughing, Crowley was laughing more than he ever had in his life.

And it felt amazing. Having his angel so close to him in such an intimate way, literally on top of him. He was able to let his guard down.

The angel gasped, "What did you just call me, my dear boy?!"

Aziraphale skittered his fingers around Crowley's stomach and sides, relishing in the rare and genuine laughter.

Luckily, although neither of them could be sure if it was intentional or not, Aziraphale's miracle that pinned Crowley's hand was slowly faltering. Crowley didn't realize (he was laughing too hard to think about much) until his arms subconsciously snapped down to grab at Aziraphale's hands.

Aziraphale paused his attack, concerned about his friend(?). Crowley looked at him, as his leftover giggles became slightly more devious.

Crowley latched his clawed hands onto Aziraphale's clothed sides and rapidly squeezed, disrupting the power that Aziraphale had held over him, and toppling them both over onto their sides, facing each other.

Aziraphale tickled Crowley back, angelic giggles pouring out of his mouth.

"You- you're such a demon!" He exclaimed through loud laughter.

Crowley nodded, squirming closer to Aziraphale as they tickled each other.

They were practically cuddling as their fingers slowed to tracing each other's abdomens, softly giggling.

Aziraphale stared into Crowley's gorgeous auburn eyes and was struck with a sense of overwhelming love.

Crowley's smile was wider than it should have been from leftover giggles as he watched the angel and his smile and gorgeous face. As if God Herself had heard his thoughts, sunlight struck the angel's face in a certain way where he looked like he was glowing (although he may have been radiating an otherworldly glow from overwhelming happiness).

They stayed there for a while, in each others arms, staring lovingly into each other's eyes.

If you made it this far, thank you. Reblogs help writers and artists on tumblr a lot, so consider reblogging if you enjoyed <3. If you'd like, send me an ask if you want to talk about anything (related or unrelated to this fic), as it motivates me to write more.

#god is an ineffable husbands shipper fr #ss2k23 #squealing santa #squealing santa 2k23 #ticklish!aziraphale #switch!aziraphale #lee!aziraphale #ler!aziraphale #ticklish!crowley #switch!crowley #lee!crowley #ler!crowley #good omens tickling #good omens tickle fic

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thisisawonderfulusername · 8 months

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a hike with your angel

aziraphale x reader

requested by: anonymous

summary: aziraphale takes you on a hike to tell you something special

warnings: just fluff

a/n: i've had this done for a while and just... didn't post it for some reason. hopefully it's good :)

when aziraphale invited you to go out, you were excited. while it was normal for the two of you to go out, it just never ceased to bring happiness to you. whether it was sitting silently in his shop listening to music, or going out for a meal, you loved it.

it was a passing suggestion in the quiet of the shop as you read a book.

"do you enjoy hikes, y/n?"

you looked up to him, "if there's something to look forward to at the end, yes."

he nodded to himself, and that was the end of that conversation.

maggie had suggested to him the idea of a nice picnic when he approached her with the question of how to confess his feelings, and he decided that she knew what she was talking about.

after a few days of planning, he showed up at the door of your quaint home. you were confused to see him, as you usually met him at his shop midday. "angel, what are you doing here?"

you had adopted the nickname for him when you heard crowley speak it, not knowing the meaning behind it until they told you later of their identities.

"well, i thought that we could go on a hike," he tells you, "i found a nice trail just outside of town, and crowley was kind enough to lend me his car."

you glanced out onto the street and saw that the car was indeed there. "well, that sounds like a lovely idea."

about a half hour later, you're going down a trail in the park, weaving through trees and listening to the sounds of the birds chirping and a creek flowing to the side.

"it's beautiful out here" you hum, admiring the greenery and wildlife.

"it truly is," aziraphale smiles, thinking of what lies ahead.

when you get to a clearing, you notice a blanket laying on the ground amongst the grass and flowers, a basket resting on top.

"ah, here we are," you're surprised when aziraphale walks toward it.

"did you set this up?" you question, a small grin spreading across your face.

he looks back at you as he opens the basket, "why of course" he smiles," you said you enjoy hikes if there's something to look forward to."

you admire the set up. it's like something you'd see in a movie. a red gingham blanket, a wicker basket- and he pulls out a bouquet of flowers.

"these are for you." he holds it out to you and you swear your heart is beating out of your chest as you take them.

"they're beautiful," you whisper softly as you admire it. all of your favorite flowers are presented in a magnificent arrangement.

nervously, he folds his hands together. "i actually have to tell you something-" he clears his throat, "something important."

you gently place the flowers down, "what is it?"

"well, you see…" he tries to remember the speech he prepared, the one he recited in his head the whole hike here like a mantra. apparently, he didn't recite it quite enough, because it just wasn't there anymore. "i… well, we've been friends for quite some time and…"

as he struggles for words, you hope that what he's trying to say is what you've been wanting to say for a long time.

instead of allowing him to continue the struggle. of formulating words, you gently cradle his face in your hands and kiss him.

every single feeling you've had for this angel is poured out through one action, and your heart is racing. what if you read into this wrong?

when you pull away, you look into his eyes, looking for any indication of what his reaction to what you just did was.

they were wide and for a moment you worried you had sent him into shock. until he finally spoke.

"i suppose that's a good way to say it."

you chuckle, "oh thank god that's what you were getting at. i was worried for a moment."

he smiles, "yes. i like you, y/n."

is your heart soaring? it certainly feels like it right now. "good. that would have been embarrassing if you didn't."

laughing lightly, he gently cradles your face in his hands to place another gentle kiss to your lips.

taglists

good omens: @chewbrry @cool-iguana aziraphale: none yet

#good omens x reader #aziraphale x reader #good omens aziraphale x reader #aziraphale good omens x reader

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thebookshoparoundthecorner · 5 months

Text

Sickfic Recs

I'm down for the count with Covid after avoiding it for three years, and thus have been reading/rereading some sickfics that have brought me comfort. I figured while I was at it, I may as well make a list of a few of my favorites, in case anyone else was in need of the same!

In no particular order:

1. A Tree of Life by aknightofthe7kingdoms

Summary:

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12 Crowley was certain that he wasn’t ill. He just wasn’t feeling...quite well.

2. La Grippe by LadyWallace

Summary: Aziraphale had watched it take too many lives already, he wasn't going to let it take his friend too. It was lucky then that he just happened to stumble across that deserted barn somewhere in the green fields of France. Sick!Crowley Historical backstory

3. Helped By Angels Unawares by Sodium_Azide

Summary: In the late middle ages, Aziraphale stumbles across a human tragedy that has somehow also affected his demonic adversary, and abruptly understands much more about what he is willing to do for the sake of the Serpent of Eden.

4. Fever Dreams by Lady of Prompts (Aethelflaed)

Summary:

Angels don’t get sick. They can, however, burn through enough of their grace that their corporations begin to malfunction. This happens to Aziraphale far more often than to other angels. Aziraphale gets a fever and Crowley takes care of him!

5. A Matter of Opportunity by PinkPenguinParade

Summary:

The pain danced sharp and angry, lit up ragged nerves. Pulled him on, toward that fuzzy promise of rest. Fifteen feet, maybe? He could do fifteen feet. Could do fifteen feet standing on his head, right?Seven feet.

Four.

He reached out for the door and slapped it once, twice, the wood pulsing against his skinned hands.

6. Such Selfish Prayers by spargelseason

Summary:

Crowley, while still apparently comatose, had somehow managed to wrap himself so thoroughly around Aziraphale on their way up, that any attempt at dropping him onto the mattress without being pulled down as well proved futile.

And hence, quite defeated, Aziraphale found himself lying in a warm tangle of Crowley and blankets. He felt a little stunned.

7. The Words We Say by QixxiQ

Summary: Aziraphale calls Crowley a plague rat one time and it kinda messes him up for roughly 300 years.

8. In Sickness And In Hell by entanglednow

Summary: Crowley picks up something unpleasant while mingling in Hell, and is determined that Aziraphale not see him while he's sick.

9. Temper by TeaCub90

Summary:

‘Angel, I told you not to fuss,’ Crowley croaks, somewhere underneath the blankets – and then he emerges, all tousled hair and black vest, looking both three shades paler than usual and more than a little annoyed at the absolute audacity of the angel for bringing him a hot drink.

‘It’s no bother,’ Aziraphale bats away his irritation, ‘this should be better for you, especially after you threw the Lemsip at the wall. And the hot Ribena.’

10. And In Health by Kalimyre

Summary:

One of the many ways Hell is awful is the demon flu that is always going around the office. Crowley comes down with it, and this time he allows Aziraphale to help.

Indulgent, soft fluffy fic, because Crowley deserves to be taken care of sometimes.

+1 Bonus self rec (cause I'm learning how to get better at doing that)

Our Side by theshoparoundthecorner

Summary:

Aziraphale gets sick. He doesn't know how, and it really shouldn't be possible, but he does and unfortunately there's nothing he can do about it. When he decides he has to cancel his plans to see Crowley, Crowley insists he come over to the bookshop with soup. When he arrives, he looks worse than Aziraphale.

Cue a mysteriously sick Angel and a mysteriously sick Demon, taking care of each other in a London Soho bookshop, drinking tea, eating soup, and having an oddly easy time of it.

Well, at least for the first forty-five minutes.

In which Crowley and Aziraphale see each other at their worst, love each other for it all the more, and learn that being on your own side isn't so bad after all.

Those ten are just a few of my favorites, and I have more that I've been reading and bookmarking, so I might do a second rec soon! Meanwhile, if anyone else has any good omens sickfic recs they want to make (or self recs!!), feel free to do so in the reblogs or comments!

#good omens #good omens fic #good omens fic rec #good omens fic recs #sickfic #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #fic rec #fic recs #i should have been asleep two hours ago but the cough is lingering tonight

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siobhans-world · 5 months

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A little fanfic I wrote. A romantic picnic:

“Ah! See Crowley, I told you we’d go for a picnic someday” Aziraphale said as he wafted the tartan picnic blanket down to the ground “Are you sure you want to pick this spot? It's very secluded here, although the view is beautiful, there are more people over there…”.

“Maybe I just want to be alone with you, angel, it's been so long since we've been alone” Crowley retorted quickly. He sat down on the blanket, shaded by trees and looked out at the beautiful lake in front of him.

“Quite right” Aziraphale nervously agreed “Let me pour you some wine”

Aziraphale opened up his luxurious hamper and anxiously poured Crowley a little glass of red wine. His eyes flitting between the glass and Crowley. He marvelled at Crowley's form as the ex-demon stretched out his long legs on the blanket, his jeans tightening and leaning back onto his elbows, a little portion of his torso peeking out above the rim of his jeans. He clearly wasn't dressed for a picnic, but it didn't matter.

Aziraphale, catching himself, his eyes lingering in that area, quickly glanced away and handed Crowley the glass. Their fingers touched in passing and Aziraphale flinched away much too dramatically. He wanted so much to touch and hold Crowley, but he was also aware that Crowley was still hurt by their first kiss. There was much to talk about and wounds to heal, and a confident Aziraphale felt finally ready to share his feelings. He was hoping it wasn't too late.

Crowley smelled his wine and sipped, looking out at the view. He watched Aziraphale as he reached in the hamper for cheese and grapes. “It's been a while since I've eaten human food” Aziraphale smiled excitedly and he went to take a bite of the cheese.

“No you don't do it like that, here, let me show you” and Crowley reached for the food “You pair the cheese with the grapes, see” Crowley leans towards Aziraphale “open your mouth” and a flushed Aziraphale let Crowley feed him. It was mind-blowing. Suddenly he was ravenous, and all he wanted was to eat and drink and be with Crowley. He was so happy to be back on Earth with the man he loved. The one person that made everything better.

Aware that Crowley's fingers touched Aziraphale's mouth to feed him and then Crowley had sucked his own fingers clean, felt very erotic. Aziraphale had to contain himself.

“We need to talk” Crowley said, bringing Aziraphale back down to earth. He still hadn't looked at Aziraphale since they got there and he was very guarded in his posture. He looked out to the lake and continued “I'm sorry… about what happened in your bookshop that day… I scared you and it's not really how I pictured it going… but you don't have to worry, it won't happen again, I just want you to be happy”.

Aziraphale stared out at the water, slightly irritated, wanting to grab Crowley and make out with him right there, “Please, Crowley… Can I tell you something?” he inched closer to Crowley.

“I've thought about that moment over and over, replaying in my mind how badly I… we both handled it, and if you’d turned around after you left… well…” he stifled “I might have… I’m sorry I'm not good at this” he choked back the lump in his throat and poured himself a wine “Well, we’ve never been very good at communicating have we?” they both laughed and briefly locked eyes then looked out to the water again, taking in the breeze.

“I mean you never said… you never told me you loved me” Aziraphale paused, thinking he'd scared Crowley. Crowley downed his glass of wine “I have, angel. Every time I’ve told you I won't leave you on your own, it means I love you. Whenever I've rescued you and there have plenty of those occasions, it means I love you, that was my way…”

“Because I do Aziraphale, I love you” Crowley looked down a catch in his throat “I still love you”

Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat. He put a finger under Crowley's chin and turned his head so that they could face eachother. He gently removed Crowley's glasses, set them down to take in Crowley's beautiful yellow eyes. Crowley's skin tingled where Aziraphale touched him, just wanting to kiss him again, but also guarding himself nursing a still broken heart. He had nothing left to lose.

“I need you to look at me when I say this, because I want you to know…” Aziraphale said softly, building up courage “I don't want you to be sorry about kissing me. If we ever get the chance to do that again I would wrap my arms around you and I'd never let you go…” Aziraphale continued reasoning with himself ”I've been in love with you for a long time… I've wanted to kiss you for 6 thousand years… and I didn't realise how much I buried my feelings until… maybe the 1940’s?” he thoughtfully questioned himself and smiled, and Crowley smiled back. “Since then it's just been… well” Aziraphale breathed heavy “I wake up and I think about you, I go to sleep and I think about you. It's hard” Crowley spat his wine in surprise and giggled. “Oh you know what I mean, Crowley” Aziraphale sighed and playfully pushed him. He continued “And when Beelzebub and Gabriel held hands I had this awful feeling”

“OH I KNOW!” Crowley clapped back “Jealousy, rage inducing jealousy” he threw his head back and lay on the blanket getting comfy “They've had it so easy compared to us”.

“But here we are” Crowley looked up at Aziraphale and held out his hand, gesturing to Aziraphale to hold it. Aziraphale reached out and put his hand in Crowley's, intertwining his fingers with Crowleys, tracing the shape of each of Crowley's fingers and savouring the moment, both of their hands a little warm and sweaty with nerves through the very frank conversation they'd been having.

Crowley tugged at Aziraphale's hand, pulling him down next to him so they could both lie together and look up at the drifting clouds.

They gripped each other's hand tightly, not wanting to let go. It felt right, it felt like the two of them against the world. They lay there for a few minutes just taking in the moment.

Aziraphale eventually turned to his side wanting to take in the sight of Crowley's skin and dazzling eyes in the sunlight “I love you” he whispered, pained and furrowed his brow feeling guilty for how he'd treated Crowley in the past. Crowley turned to his side to face Aziraphale. He put one hand under his head to prop himself up and the other hand on Aziraphale's cheek, caressing his soft skin. Aziraphale's piercing blue eyes made Crowley's feel breathless.

Crowley leaned in and parted his lips, he pulled Aziraphale close and tenderly kissed him, lingering there for a while.

Aziraphale’s whole world stopped, feeling Crowley's soft lips on his. Then they softly parted and Aziraphale inhaled, taking in this magnificent beautiful being, butterflies in his stomach. He twisted his head slightly to kiss Crowley's palm that hadn't moved away from Aziraphale's cheek. The two of them looked deep into each other's eyes, their foreheads now touching. They both smiled widely and sighed. Aziraphale's eyes filled with tears and Crowley wiped them away, pressing his lips to Aziraphale's forehead.

He lay back, pulling Aziraphale onto his chest and wrapping his arms around him. Aziraphale put his head on Crowley's chest, his heartbeat was racing like Aziraphale's. He put his hand on Crowley's stomach and drank in Crowley's warmth and smell. Crowley's hand met Aziraphale's, and their fingers intertwined again. The two lovers held onto each other tightly and felt at ease like they always had when they were together before, but this time they had opened their hearts to each other without any fear. It was a truly perfect day.

#aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #goodomens2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #crowley #aziraphale #good omens #gomens #fanfic #romance #go fanfic

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straightupsickfics · 5 months

Text

secret ingredient

can you believe it's december? i can't.

but i did manage to finish this little good omens soup fic that i'm going to use as day 2: bowls of soup for the 12 days of sickmas prompt list <3

****

For a being that never needs to sleep, Aziraphale is sick enough that he looks like he’s on the verge of falling asleep on his feet, and Crowley cannot say he enjoys seeing his angel this way. Always so full of excited energy and quick, unexpectedly funny quips, Aziraphale can do little more than blink dazedly at him at the moment.

“Did you hear me, angel?” Crowley asks gently. He’d asked if Aziraphale wanted to go upstairs for some lunch and a nap, but the angel hadn’t replied. Instead, he’d snuffled helplessly into his tartan handkerchief, seemingly on the cusp of a sneeze that kept backing off at the last second.

Now, Aziraphale brings a hand to his face and rubs at his eyes, thinks for a second, then shakes his head. “Ah, not quite, sorry, dear,” he murmurs.

He just looks sick and contagious at this point, what with how red his nose has gotten in the last few hours alone, the way the dim light in the bookshop draws attention to the dark shadows beneath his eyes…

“hh’hDTISshhh’oo!”

…And the near-constant sneezing.

Aziraphale hardly looks relieved at finally having sneezed, though. No, he looks like his sinuses are giving him hell, like he knows there are plenty more where that came from. He gives his eyes another rub, this time to wipe away an irritated tear, and Crowley can’t help but move in and envelope him in his arms. The angel settles into the hug almost immediately, sighing with relief as he tucks his head into Crowley’s shoulder, the soft sound of sniffling muffled against the warm fabric of his turtleneck sweater.

“Sorry, I’mb snf! Quite a sight today, I’m sure,” Aziraphale mumbles.

“Mm, sight for sore eyes,” Crowley says, tucking a kiss against the top of his ear. “Alright, let’s get you settled then, shall we? A nap might do just the trick. Take it from me angel, there’s nothing that sleeping for a few decades won’t fix.”

“Surely not decades,” Aziraphale says with what can only be called a pout.

“Well, no, ideally not. Think I’d miss you too much for that,” Crowley confesses, and smiles a little when he feels Aziraphale hug him just that much tighter.

“And while you sleep, I’ll make us some soup.”

This is enough to make Aziraphale release him from their embrace and fix him with as withering a look as he can manage, given the circumstances. “Soup? Do you actually know how to cook… well, anything?” He asks, frowning.

Crowley gives an offended little sniff. “Not as such,” he says. “But how hard can it be? Humans do it every day, multiple times a day. And there are plenty of cookbooks for me to reference,” he teases.

Aziraphale’s eyebrows lift in alarm. “Cookbooks?”

“Sure, our cookbooks. In our cooking section,” Crowley explains.

“Our cookbooks,” Aziraphale repeats under his breath.

Crowley grins at him. “Right, bed. And soup. Don’t worry about a thing, angel, everything will turn out just tickety-boo.”

The angel is apparently too exhausted to argue any further, because he lets Crowley lead him upstairs to the small, cozy apartment they’ve been sharing these last few months. It’s strange, seeing Aziraphale curling up under the blankets. Normally it’s just Crowley who makes use of the bed for sleeping, with Aziraphale tucked in snugly beside him with a book and a hot cup of tea.

It’s almost too tempting to slip in beside him now, draw the curtains, and lay down for a nap of his own while Aziraphale sleeps away his cold, but… there’s something drawing him to the idea of making the angel soup. Something quietly romantic and domestic about making something with his own hands that will make his partner feel better.

So, Crowley makes sure Aziraphale has no less than three blankets, ensures that his feet are properly covered, and presses a kiss to his forehead before he promises to be back soon.

“Don’t spill anything on my books, please,” Aziraphale frets through a yawn.

He’ll be asleep in a matter of minutes, Crowley knows, whatever winter virus he has is taking a toll on him enough to knock him out for a good few hours.

“You can trust me, angel,” Crowley says from the doorway.

And he can.

In the kitchen, things fall apart pretty immediately.

Crowley has no idea where Aziraphale keeps anything, or, for that matter, which kind of soup the angel would prefer. And exactly how small is “diced?”

He decides on chicken soup because that’s a classically human “sick day” soup according to everything he’s observed over the years, and it seems simple enough. He’s not sure they have “wild” rice, but surely regular rice will do the trick?

Of course he could conjure up the soup with much less effort, but that defeats the purpose. So, he chops and boils and hopes for the best, and the kitchen soon smells quite delicious, if he says so himself.

(He does).

Crowley ladles the soup into a bowl, conjures up some bread (he’s not that good in the kitchen after this singular attempt), sets everything on one of Aziraphale’s ancient serving trays, and makes his way back to the bedroom.

“Hh’iiishh! Iishh’oo! Oh, good l-lord…hUH’ieesshhh’oo!” Aziraphale is in the throes of a sneezing fit when he opens the door, though, his body pitching forward as he sneezes helplessly into the pile of blankets, too tired to do much else.

“Sounds like I’m just in time,” Crowley says by way of greeting. He sets the tray down on the bedside table and leans over to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead. He definitely sounds worse than he had before his nap, so it wouldn’t be out of the question for him to have a fever now, too.

“You always are,” Aziraphale says, still sniffling. “Don’t do that, you’ll get sick too,” he says, a worried edge seeping into his voice.

“Bit late for that, isn’t it?” Crowley muses. “Here, look, I didn’t even burn anything down. I’m sure you’ll tell me if it’s shit,” he says, offering the bowl out for Aziraphale to take.

“I hope I can even taste it,” Aziraphale says sadly. “Thank you, though, for going to the trouble, my dear. You’ll have some, too, yes?”

“‘Course,” Crowley says, “when have I ever made you eat alone? No, don’t tell me, I’m sure there’s a running list in that brain of yours.” He takes the second bowl and sits next to Aziraphale on the bed.

Crowley largely ignores his own soup, though, too busy watching Aziraphale take a careful first bite. Something flickers over his face, there and gone too quickly even for Crowley and his 6,000 years of Angel experience to parse, and he can’t help but frown. Maybe it hadn’t gone to plan the way he’d thought.

When Crowley looks up again, Aziraphale’s face is flushed a delicate shade of pink and his eyes are shining bright with just barely held back tears.

“What’s happening, angel?” He asks, worried now that something really is wrong. He scoots himself over towards Aziraphale and runs a hand through the familiar, soft blond strands, though this only makes him shake his head and the tears fall in earnest.

“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale sighs, swiping them away.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or should I start guessing?” Crowley says, deflecting as his face grows warm from the affection in Aziraphale’s voice.

His angel gives him a smile so soft and fond that Crowley’s at risk of melting right there on the spot. “I can just...taste...how much love went into this,” Aziraphale finally explains, eyes still shining bright and not breaking eye contact.

“Ngk. I. Well, you know. I do…love you,” Crowley manages to croak, peering over the rims of his sunglasses so Aziraphale can see his eyes, too.

Aziraphale beams at him. “I’ll be feeling as good as new after this, I think; thank you my love.”

“S’nothing,” Crowley says, though he knows they both know it isn’t and has never been nothing when it comes to them. Aziraphale lets it go, though, just continues to smile at him as he sniffles through every few bites.

When they’re done, Aziraphale curls himself up around Crowley, full and warm and ready for another nap, it would seem.

“I really do appreciate you looking after me, you know,” he confesses as his eyes slip shut.

Crowley smiles, feels his own face flush as he turns and drops a kiss to Azirphale’s forehead. “I know. Sleep now, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

#my fic #good//omens #they are just extremely in love your honor #6000 years and crowley is going to DIE if the angel he's been in love with the entire time voices said love aloud #and i love that for him #sickmas 2023

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im-just-a-little-freak · 27 days

Note

(previous ask anon) OHH MYY GODDDD i found another person that has headcanons?!?!? my few predcrushs are both of them

yess I found another one!!! Yeessssssssssssssssss

(Predcannons under the cut)

(Aziraphale🍣)

-he’s very polite about it, makes sure your comfortable (even if you’re not willing)

-definitely offers prey food and tea before and maybe after he swallows them up, even if you’re an angel/demon.

-normally only swallows people to comfort them or give them a place to sleep, he’s nice and warm inside.

-it’s harder to tell if he’s actually holding prey inside, he wears thick fabrics and is already a bit big, so no one can tell (unless the prey is over a third of his size, then he’s a little chubby)

-he won’t tell anyone but Crowley if he’s holding anyone, mostly because what he’s doing is impossible to humans in-universe but also because you’d probably like to stay hidden inside, and he understands.

-100% reads to prey inside, like, imagine your midway to falling asleep already and all of a sudden you hear the very polite angel who swallowed you whole reading a series of unfortunate events.

-I feel like he’d drink tea or hot chocolate while someone is inside his belly, unless they ask him not to, he understands if you don’t want to be covered in a warm sweet liquid.

-I have a whole mental image of him sitting in a chair, blanket over his lap, holding a cup of tea and quietly reading, and then just feels a prey inside his belly moving, smiles warmly and gently rubs at his stomach

-his insides are dark blue and look like they have stars on the lining, it is very warm and soft inside.

(Crowley🐍)

-he’s a bit mean okay I’m gonna warn you.

-will desperately try and convince you he’s evil (he’s not digesting you and your warm, safe and comfortable in his belly)

-he’s built like a twig, so if he dose consume prey, unless they’re tiny, it’s noticeable.

-licks! He won’t tell you if he wants to eat you, at all, but will try and signal to you by licking you (his tongue is forked) or he just swallows you whole.

-he will definitely tell you you’ll be alright, but might let you freak out for a second.

-he has done this many times throughout the years, and first tempted Aziraphale to do it at one point.

-during his time as a dark knight he’d pretended to be a dragon (just a huge snake) and kidnapped multiple people and swallowed them, before caughing them up a while later.

-doesn’t act it but is a very protective pred, someone other then aziraphale tries to touch his slightly larger stomach with a person inside and he’s hissed and foaming at the mouth to scare them off.

-in a more feral au he would bring aziraphale prey to flirt with him, then cuddle up to him (he’s a snake he needs warmth)

-speaking of warmth he becomes really cozy if the prey is warm, just laying on a couch dramatically, gently rubbing the tiny warmth radiating inside the slight bump in his abdomen.

-stomach is black, might look like an oil leak inside, a bit tighter then Aziraphal but still very comfortable.

(A bit more)

If they both have prey inside they cuddle up to each other, Crowley is honestly very happy neither prey are outside of this this because he’ll just melt into putty after a while.

(also Crowley doesn’t mind being prey for aziraphale much)

also Muriel didn’t know what vore was and was totally okay when aziraphale/Crowley swallowed them up, they didn’t know how mortal bodies worked and just kept talking to them

#safe vore #soft vore #extreme cuddling #tw vore #non fatal vore #g/t vore #This is longer then I expected #ineffable noms

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bright-omens · 9 months

Text

ADHD Crowley Headcanons because I love them very much

ADHD Crowley lives rent-free in my heart. Also, I will be switching pronouns for him throughout this because genderfluid Crowley

He stims by moving his head from side to side (like a snake)

They vocal stim by doing a Scottish accent randomly

They'll just be chilling with Aziraphale in the bookshop and they'll both be silently doing their own thing

And then out of nowhere...

He'll just start saying random things in a Scottish accent, and he'll stay like that for hours until he gets a good amount of dopamine from it

His hyperfixation is stars and space, obviously

He sticks his tongue out as he does important things so he can focus more

She loves sorting things. If she ever needs dopamine or if she's just bored, Aziraphale has a bunch of boxes of little trinkets and things for her to sort and fidget with

Speaking of fidgeting, Crowley hoards fidget toys like there's no tomorrow

She just pulls them out of nowhere

She's in a meeting with Hell and getting bored?

*Fidget toy has been summoned*

All the demons in Hell find it so annoying because they'll take them away

Only for her to have even more than before

They've given up on confiscating his fidget toys

Listening to songs on repeat is a form of stimming, so I feel like they'd hear a specific Queen song and they're like "Oh, here's the song that I'm focusing all my energy on for either a week or the next 5 years"

They hoard blankets

If they get too stressed out they turn into a snake and slither around the bookshop

They will make random little noises in the silence, just to fill it

"Blop. Blop. Blop. Beep. Beeeeep. Beeeeeeeee-"

"Crowley, dear, will you stop beeping?"

Aziraphale doesn't care what sound she makes, as long as it isn't beeping

When Crowley is low on dopamine, she gets so incredibly depressed

She just sits and does nothing for weeks

Aziraphale usually tries to bring her out of it by taking her to space museums or giving her space books to read

It doesn't always work, but Crowley appreciates the effort

When he's on about a hyperfixation though...

Let's just say that he puts the "hyper" in hyperfixation

Aziraphale loves seeing him like that

All smiley and happy and bouncing around

Crowley could go on for hours about any little topic that interests him when he gets like that

#good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #ADHD crowley #why is there an autistic aziraphale tag #but not an adhd crowley one?#that's dumb #anyways #crowley headcanons #crowley hcs #good omens crowley

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that-reading-geek · 2 months

Text

Broken guitar strings

Crowley x Aziraphale, sugar daddy AU, Human AU

Chapter two

Contains nsfw scenes

Posted on A03

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale spend some quality time together before and after work, Aziraphale learning some more about Crowleys backstory, as well as his body.

Crowley and Bee meet with Muriel at Crowleys gig of the night, and spend the evening together. Crowley gets paid his first paycheck from Aziraphale.

When Crowley woke up to an unfamiliar room and blankets that actually kept him from freezing over night, the initial shock and confusion had him bolting upright and glancing around the room frantically. He stared at the bookshelves and cluttered desk, misremembering where he had accidentally fallen asleep last night. It wasn’t until there was a knock at the door and the smell of waffles wafting through that all memories of yesterday evening came flooding back to him, hitting him like a truck.

“Good morning dear, I made breakfast, I didn’t know what you like so I thought you can’t go wrong with waffles and berries!” Aziraphale said cheerily as he stepped into the room. He placed the tray of food at the end of the bed, before looking at Crowley puzzled. “Are you alright my boy? You’re looking rather frazzled.”

“’m fine Aziraphale... jus’... woke up confused...” Crowley mumbled, trying to smooth his hair down. “Sorry for falling asleep, didn’t mean to stay the night.” When Crowley looked to his right, he noticed the un-slept-in half of the bed, and suddenly guilt gnawed at his chest.

“Oh nonsense, it was quite nice to have your company,” Aziraphale giggled.

Crowley shrugged and flopped back against the pillows, he would go back to sleep if he was in his own bed, but alas he wasn’t, so instead he peered up at the other man.

Aziraphale tutted, “Come and eat your breakfast dear,” he said, although he did silently agree that more sleep would be divine.

Crowley realised that even after his 2 meals yesterday, which was far more food than he was used to on the daily, his stomach was practically clawing at him for food, and the smell of the waffles did seem delicious. He didn’t want to waste them after Aziraphale had clearly put in so much effort for him.

He sat up and scooted to the end of the bed, where Aziraphale had perched. The waffles were a beautiful golden brown, with syrup pooling off of them and a litter of berries scattered on top. He took the cutlery Aziraphale had so graciously offered him and cut a piece, before biting it with a satisfied moan.

With his mouth still full, he stabbed another piece and held it up to Aziraphale, “Have some.”

The other man only scorned him lightly for not finishing his mouthful before speaking, before taking the piece Crowley had offered him into his own mouth and chewing. The two spent their morning eating the waffles together and occasionally feeding each other mouthfuls or some berries, before Aziraphale was gently dabbing at his own mouth with his handkerchief and then doing the same to Crowley, despite his protests.

“Do you have work today my dear?” Aziraphale asked as they finished off the waffles.

Crowley nodded “Mmph, yeah, not till 12 though.”

Aziraphale hummed in thought, “Perhaps we could talk some more, or I could show you around, since we didn't get the chance to yesterday.”

Crowley blushed at the memory, but nodded all the same. The two stayed in bed for a couple more moments, allowing Crowley’s food to settle before Aziraphale was encouraging him out of the warmth and comfort to go on a little tour of the bookshop.

Crowley had his arms wrapped around himself, his button down and jeans were doing little to keep him warm now that he had emerged from Aziraphale’s blankets. He hadn’t changed out of yesterday’s clothes before falling asleep, and he somewhat regretted not bringing at least a jumper.

“Pull this on,” Aziraphale chuckled, handing Crowley a cream, cable-knit jumper from his wardrobe, “It may be a bit big, but no matter, we wouldn’t want you freezing, would we dear?”

Crowley took it gratefully as his lips pulled into an awkward line that was supposed to be a smile, “Well aren’t you an angel,” he teased, before pulling the jumper over his head. It was, as Aziraphale had warned, big on Crowley. But Aziraphale secretly came to the conclusion that Crowley looked rather adorable in his jumper, with the sleeves covering his hands the way they did. The smaller man didn’t pay much attention to it, just rather grateful for the extra layer, and he did have to admit it was rather comfortable.

Aziraphale showed him the whole bookshop, lower and upper floor. The ground level contained the main bookshop, as well as Aziraphale’s office and the small living space that Crowley blushed at the sight of. The blankets laying over the back of the sofa that hadn’t been there the previous evening solved Crowley’s question as to where Aziraphale had slept last night, and the sting of guilt made itself known once more. Upstairs contained the bedroom that Crowley found himself missing as they passed the door. Aziraphale showed him the bathroom, the little kitchenette and dining area, as well as a mini reading nook that was tucked away out of sight, with a window and pillows and of course a reading light. Crowley found himself running his fingers over the spines of perfectly looked after books, reading the titles and not recognising a single one.

“Do you too, have an affinity for reading dear boy?” Aziraphale said softly, coming up behind him to peer at the books he was looking at.

“Ngk, not really, ‘less its sheet music, like plants though,” He glanced up at Aziraphale, who had propped his chin on the smaller mans shoulder.

Aziraphale simply smiled and nodded, “I may have some music books or plant guides you could borrow downstairs, help yourself should the need arise.”

Crowley nodded and thanked him, finding himself leaning into the other man and welcoming the arms that wrapped around his waist. Aziraphale pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder that had Crowley’s face heating up and the tips of his ears burning red. He wasn’t used to this type of gentle touch, but he could sure get used to it if this was what came with their deal. He gasped softly as Aziraphale’s kisses, feather-light and innocent, climbed up his neck and found their ways to his cheek and lips. Aziraphale giggled and he squeezed Crowley’s waist gently, placing one more kiss on the tip of Crowley’s nose before pulling away.

The taller man checked his watch, before humming softly, “May I walk you to work dearest? We have about half an hour.”

“Need to go home first,” Crowley shrugged, shivering at the lack of contact, “Change my clothes and shit, don’t want to make you wait.”

“Oh nonsense, I don’t mind, honestly.”

Crowley shook his head, “I’ll meet you at the shop.”

Aziraphale nodded and gently took his hands, kissing the younger mans knuckles, before the two were making their ways to the front door and Crowley was walking down the street to his apartment.

Crowley managed to make it to his shift with about five minutes to spare. He’d changed his clothes and put his guitar on its stand, promising to practise as soon as he was home. He greeted Nina with a wave and pulled his apron on, hanging his sunglasses over the top hem. He began by cleaning up a few mugs from empty tables and taking orders. Aziraphale was sitting at a table in the corner, waiting for him as promised, but with how busy the coffee shop was currently, Crowley had no time to stop and chat.

About half an hour passed before the foot traffic was low enough that Aziraphale took his chance to join the relatively short queue and order his usual. Crowley had the drink ready just as he approached the counter, holding the cup out without meeting his eye.

“Thank you dear,” Aziraphale said softly, their fingers brushing as he took the cup.

Crowley only met his eyes when he saw Aziraphale put a £20 note in the tip jar.

“Aziraphale!” He hissed, “that’s too much.”

“Nonsense dear, its only £20,” Aziraphale giggled, taking Crowley’s hand that had been previously on the counter.

“Mmph,” Crowley said, eyes now trained on their joined hands.

“I’m going to go find a table, will you come to the bookshop after your shift?”

“Yeah... dinner?”

“What do you fancy?”

“Don’t mind.”

“Think on it, we’ll get whatever you like.”

Crowley nodded and took his hand back as Aziraphale made his way back to his table. Crowley started taking the next person’s order, and soon he was back in the swing of his shift.

“What was that about?” Nina asked Crowley once there was a break in customers.

“What was what about?”

“You and Mr Fell.”

Crowley glared at her, though the blush on his cheeks made it a lot less threatening than he intended. “It was nothing, just chatting.”

“You don’t chat Crowley.”

He huffed and turned away from her, ignoring Nina’s knowing look in favour of pretending to organise the fridge.

The end of his shift couldn’t come any slower, and once he was putting his sunglasses back on and hanging his apron up, Crowley was beyond exhausted. It was 6pm and he’d told Nina she could head home. Locking up gave him the opportunity to catch his thoughts; Aziraphale had left a few hours ago, and he couldn’t help thinking of the other man for the rest of his shift. Crowley found himself glancing towards the bookshop, catching Aziraphale’s eye once or twice, earning a big grin.

The musician wiped the tables and turned off all the lights, double checking everything before heading out and locking the door behind him. He made his way across the road to the bookshop, knocking on the door almost guiltily.

Aziraphale welcomed him in moments later, ushering Crowley into the shop and towards the back.

“Have you decided what we should get for dinner?” the bookseller asked softly, leading Crowley to a sofa, who simply shook his head.

He hadn’t thought about it since Aziraphale had said to earlier, and was regretting the pressure he’d put on himself now that he was sat down in Aziraphale’s home.

Aziraphale sat down beside him, keeping a couple feet distance between them. “Would you rather go out or eat in?”

“In... something quick, please.”

“How about I give you my phone and you can choose whatever you like? No pressure.” Aziraphale said softly, getting his phone from his waistcoat and holding it out.

Crowley took it slowly and curled into the corner of the sofa, scrolling through the food delivery app and seeing what there was to offer.

Aziraphale picked up a book that was on the coffee table, busying himself whilst Crowley found something for dinner. It wasn’t clear how much time had passed; Aziraphale only looked up once he felt Crowley tap him on the arm, the musician holding his phone out with a shy smile on his face.

Crowley allowed Aziraphale to pull him closer, the older man keeping an arm around his waist as he leant on his shoulder. Aziraphale hummed and pressed a kiss to the top of Crowley’s head, going through to add his own meal to the order before placing it for delivery. Crowley couldn’t help but curl into the others side, absorbing the warmth that Aziraphale’s embrace seemed to practically radiate with.

As they waited for food to arrive, Aziraphale asked about Crowley’s day, the musician telling him about the few memorable things that happened over the course of his shift. Crowley asked Aziraphale his own questions, learning about how the older man spent his afternoon when he wasn’t staring through the window of the coffee shop. He learnt about the book Aziraphale had been reading, the shelves he had organised, the conversations with customers that all ended in them leaving empty handed. He learnt about what Aziraphale was thinking, about where his mind had wandered as the evening drew closer.

“I thought about you a lot too,” Crowley said after Aziraphale told him about how he wished Crowley’s shift would end faster to give him an excuse to hold him again.

“Oh?” Crowley couldn’t ignore how Aziraphale’s hand had migrated from his waist to his thigh, gently petting his denim-clad skin. “Tell me more.”

The musician looked up at him, “just... general stuff,” he said quietly.

“Like? C’mon dear, I don’t judge.”

Crowley blushed and buried his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder, looking away from the bookseller. “Like... mmph... meeting people you work with, or what your parents would think, or uhm... like what people will see when we’re.. out...” Crowley swallowed, “and the thing we did yesterday.” He looked up, expecting to see some sort of hurt emotion on Aziraphale’s face, or something more disgusted, but Crowley was pleasantly surprised when all he was met with was a happy smile and red cheeks.

“What do you want people to see when we’re out?”

Oh, so that’s what they were talking about now.

“I dunno... something normal.”

“Normal is rather far-fetched with an agreement like ours dear,” Aziraphale said softly.

“Mmph... I know, just-“

Aziraphale pressed a kiss to his cheek, and then another to his forehead, and a final one to his lips. “We can try and do normal.”

Crowley nodded and tucked his head underneath Aziraphale’s chin, an action that was short lived as Aziraphale said: “Now about what happened yesterday...” the older man’s hand was still rubbing his thigh, his voice quiet as Crowley peered up at him.

The two gazed at each other, eyes locked as the musician tried to ignore Aziraphale’s hand on his thigh. Moments passed of simple staring and gentle one-sided touching, Crowley hesitating to rest his hands anywhere other than his lap.

A knock at the door caused Crowley to practically jump out of his skin, leaping away from Aziraphale before attempting to play it cool. He sat back against the sofa, watching as Aziraphale calmly stood from the sofa and answered the door, taking the food delivery and tipping the driver graciously.

As Aziraphale returned, Crowley pretended to be busy on his phone, only glancing up to meet Aziraphale’s eyes before darting back to his phone. Aziraphale only chuckled and pulled the food containers put of the bag and onto the coffee table, before leaning over and pecking Crowley’s cheek, mumbling “come eat,” against his skin.

Crowley nodded softly and slowly put his phone down, noting how Aziraphale remained close as he did so. The musician simply smiled up at him and leant forwards to pick up his food, watching as Aziraphale did the same. Curled into the corner of the sofa, Crowley opened his food and the cutlery that came with it and ate, noticing how Aziraphale left him alone for the time being. The two talked them participated in a one sided conversation, Aziraphale asking questions for Crowley to nod or shake his head to, the musician slowly unfurling and sitting closer to the other.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?”

Crowley looked away from his food to look at Aziraphale, “What?”

“Earlier, when the food arrived,” Aziraphale explained, “I was touching you and now you’re not coming very close, I just hope I haven’t over stepped your boundaries.”

“Oh,” Crowley almost whispered, “no, not uncomfortable, sorry, just uhm... different.” He haphazardly explained. “Not really used to it, but didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief, placing his now empty food container down and turning to face Crowley properly. “How come it’s different?” He asked softly.

“ngk, haven’t had a... relationship for a long time, just hook-ups, nothing serious enough that there’s enough time for casual touching.”

Aziraphale nodded, “Do you prefer that? Hookups?”

“Not really, not most of the time anyway,” Crowley said softly, “I like the personal stuff, having someone look after me for once, I like it... uhm, when you hold me and touch me, all I thought about after you left...”

Aziraphale smiled softly and shuffled to sit closer to Crowley, holding an arm out to the younger man, an invitation which he less than hesitantly accepted. “May I continue?”

Crowley nodded and curled in close, finishing off the last of his food as Aziraphale wrapped his arm around his waist, continuing his gentle touches and kisses. He put his now empty food container on the table and allowed Aziraphale to pull him into his lap, smiling as he leant against the older man. Crowley couldn’t help but let his mind wander and Aziraphale continued his innocent touches, thinking about the other man’s hands all over him, under his clothes, weaved into his hair. Glancing up at Aziraphale, Crowley thought back to their agreement, and then to the burning sensation Aziraphale’s fingers now left on his body.

It wasn’t until Crowley felt the tingling sensation of Aziraphale’s hands on his inner thigh that he recognised his own arousal. He could feel himself leaning into the other man’s hold, wishing Aziraphale’s hand would touch him where he needed it most.

“Is this alright?” Aziraphale mumbled softly, smiling at Crowley’s near desperate nod. He allowed his hands to wander further in, cautiously noting Crowley’s reaction as he rested his hand on the younger mans groin. Earning verbal consent, Aziraphale carefully unzipped the fly of Crowley’s jeans, gently sliding his hand into the waistband of his boxers and palming the man carefully.

Crowley gasped softly at the feeling of Aziraphale’s soft hands on him, he keened, tucking his face into Aziraphale’s chest as the other continued palming him gently. The musician couldn’t help but allow his own hands to wander towards the fly of Aziraphale’s slacks, attempting to return the favour, however his hands were stopped short by Aziraphale’s free one, Crowley blushing as the other whispered: “Let me look after you.”

When Aziraphale’s fingers finally wrapped around his dick properly, Crowley let out a moan, hand reaching out to grip onto the older man’s arm. Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile as he watched Crowley’s eyes shut in pleasure, back arching in a gentle curve as he began pumping his hand, allowing him to bask in the long overdue pleasure he could supply.

Aziraphale pressed gentle kisses to Crowley’s cheeks, trailing his lips along the younger man’s jaw and to his neck, before pressing a final one to his shoulder and beginning the process once again. Crowley keened against him, hands fisting the sleeve of Aziraphale’s shirt as the movement on his cock sped up. The musician practically melted into Aziraphale’s hold, moans slipping past his lips in a tenor he didn’t know he was capable of.

“Angel!” He gasped when Aziraphale squeezed his shaft, the pet name slipping out before he could even stop himself. The older man simply grinned and pumped his hand faster causing a string of curses and more repeats of the accidental nickname to pour from Crowley’s lips, before he was babbling that he was close, cumming over his thighs and Aziraphale’s fingers with a deep shudder.

Crowley nestled into Aziraphale’s side as the older man ran his fingers through his hair, the two sitting in a comfortable silence as Crowley caught his breath. With cum drying quickly on his thighs, Crowley shifted in mild discomfort, before beginning to stand from his place on Aziraphale’s lap. The older man stopped him in his tracks, grabbing a tissue from the box on the coffee table and cleaning Crowley up before scooping him into his arms and standing from the sofa.

“Mmph-“ Crowley huffed, glancing up at him questioningly.

“Shall we get a bath dear boy?” Aziraphale smiled softly, pressing a kiss to Crowley’s forehead.

Earning a nod, Aziraphale carried Crowley upstairs and into the bathroom, carefully setting him on the sink counter to run a bath. He added bubble bath and lent a tray across the top, fetching various soaps and scrubs. He set the items on the tray before walking over and standing between Crowley’s legs.

Crowley undressed himself , kicking his jeans off and tugging them of when they got stuck on his ankles. He slowly pulled his shirt off too, sitting in his boxers as he peered up at Aziraphale. The other man in question grinned at the sight of Crowley now bare chest, before allowing Crowley to kick his boxers off before lifting him up and carrying him to the bath. Aziraphale set Crowley in the warm water, kneeling beside the tub allowing the musician to get comfortable. He took a bottle of body wash and pouring some onto a wash cloth, before beginning to wipe him down once gaining consent.

“I don’t need all this Angel...”

“Nonsense, aftercare after sex is necessary.”

“That was hardly sex...” Crowley mumbled, “and I don’t want to be wasting your water.”

“Oh hush, you never have to worry about that.”

Crowley could only blush and allow Aziraphale to clean his body, he turned to allow him to reach his back, relaxing under the other man’s gentle touches.

“This is beautiful,” Aziraphale said softly, running his fingers gently down Crowley’s back, where a tattoo of a red and black snake marked his skin.

“Thanks,” Crowley whispered, “got it for my 18th birthday... I’d like more... maybe on my arms.”

Aziraphale smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to the tattoo, “that would be lovely...”

After the bath, Crowley was wrapped in one of Aziraphale’s robes, sitting in front of the mirror and carefully towel drying his hair. Aziraphale sat on the bed behind him, watching the way Crowley’s hands expertly moved his hair into the position he liked. Crowley glanced at him through the mirror, eyes only catching for a moment before he was looking away again.

When he was satisfied with his hair, Crowley stood and crawled onto the bed with Aziraphale, leaning into his side once the position was offered. Aziraphale carefully placed a kiss to the top of his hair, holding Crowley close and keeping the musician warm. He leant back, laying against the pillows with Crowley’s head on his chest, the two simply cuddling atop the bedsheets. Aziraphale wrapped both arms around Crowley, pulling him closer in order to properly provide after-care cuddles.

“Mmph, can’t stay long,” Crowley mumbled, pressing his nose into Aziraphale’s shirt.

“No?”

“No... got stuff tonight, with Bee.”

Aziraphale hummed and nodded, “then we better make the most of it hm?”

Crowley smiled drowsily and curled in closer, peering up at Aziraphale through his eyelashes. The older man smiled and kissed his forehead, whispering sweet nothings until Crowley began to nod off. The musician fought to stay awake, but soon gave into the sleep that grappled him, finding comfort in the warm that Aziraphale provided.

Aziraphale let Crowley sleep for a little while, he wasn’t sure what time his plans with Bee were, but he assumed that with how fast he had fallen asleep, Crowley deserved that extra nap. He watched Crowley’s chest rise and fall with each breath, watched his lips part and eyelashes flutter gently, watched as a lock of hair fell from its place and into his eyes. Aziraphale gently brushed the hair from his eyes and pressed a kiss to his forehead, before laying back and enjoying the quiet closeness.

Crowley slept for 3 quarters of an hour, eyes fluttering open, before he sat upright in a panic, accidentally slapping Aziraphale’s chest.

“Ngk, sorry, wha’s time?”

“About 9:30, you didn’t sleep too long.”

Crowley nodded and huffed, looking down at where Aziraphale was stilling laying.

“What time are you meeting Bee?” Aziraphale queried.

“Uhm.... bout 10... better get going,” Crowley mumbled. He watched as Aziraphale finally sat up, the older man pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Better get dressed then my dear, i'll walk you out.”

As promised, Crowley did pick up his guitar and practise once he was home, he made sure it was properly tuned and practised a couple of chords, before Bee was texting him that they were outside and he had to pack up to go and meet them. He practically floated down the stairs that lead to the pavement, guitar slung over his shoulder as he greeted Bee.

“Ready?” they asked, eyeing Crowley’s restless hands. The musician was flexing his fingers quickly and shaking his hands at his sides.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Crowley said, continuing to stim.

Bee only hummed and started walking, hands buried in their pockets as Crowley trailed behind. They waited awhile before finally saying:

“You good? You haven’t stopped-“ they mimicked his hand movements, -“you’re not nervous are you? You’ve performed here loads.”

“Ngk, s’nothing, not nervous.”

Bee nodded slowly, not convinced, but dropped the subject and continued the walk in silence. The two approached the bar that both had seen many times, it was one of Crowley’s more regular gigs, most people that worked there knew him, and at least he could score a free drink every now and then. Bee held the door open as Crowley stepped inside, throwing a 2 finger salute to the girl working the bar, she smiled back at him with a nod, and Crowley left Bee to go and set up.

Setting up was always his favourite bit, the regulars would come and sit nearer the front to chat and keep him company, sometimes receiving certain requests or that he come and join them for drinks once he was done (which he usually declined). His favourite regular by far was a young person who went by the name Muriel, the first time he’d met them they had been dragged to the bar by some co-workers and promptly left at the table whilst they all went to the bar to get Shitfaced. They had watched silently, but always smiled and waved whenever Crowley caught their eye or in-between songs. It took a couple more nights until the two spoke, Muriel had approached Crowley as he was packing up and introduced themself. Now, whenever Crowley worked here, Muriel was always the first face he looked for in the crowd of tables.

“Hiya Mr Crowley,” they said, sidling up next to him.

Crowley grinned as he out his guitar down, “Hello Muriel, alone again tonight?”

They nodded somewhat enthusiastically, before hopping up to set on the edge of the stage. They kicked their feet lightly and the two made idle chatter as Crowley finished setting up. Muriel told Crowley all about work and what they’d been up to, whilst Crowley nodded long and occasionally let slip a few details of his own. The two continued talking until it was time for Crowley’s set to start, and a small crowd had formed to listen to their regularly scheduled musician.

Crowley felt in his element in the bar, he had people who actually enjoyed listening to him, he felt comfortable to be more open and himself. Having friends only made the experience so much better, he would never trade the memories he’d made here with anything else. He played a couple of songs from his normal set before taking a handful of suggestions, ranging from the classics to some he had to Google sheet music for; no one cared how well he played, they just enjoyed how personal it was, and everyone had fun.

It was almost midnight when he finally finished, wiping the sweat from his forehead and hopping from the stage to join Bee at the bar. A cold glass of beer had been passed his way, which he accepted gratefully as he leant against the counter. Muriel approached the two slowly, before taking a seat on the other side of Crowley.

“Heya Muriel!” Bee cheered loudly, tipsy, “drink darlin’?”

“Just a j20 Bee,” they half-shouted over the music now playing over the speakers.

Bee nodded, “you got it.”

A j20 spritz was soon slid to the sober of the three, and Muriel accepted it eagerly, clinking the bottle with Crowley’s glass before sipping at the drink. The three participated in half-drunk chatter as Crowley worked off the adrenaline from his set.

No one kept track of how much time passed, only leaving when Muriel’s yawns became frequent, Crowley offering his apartment for the night. With Bee leaning on his shoulder, Crowley led the way home, keeping up the soft chatter between himself and Muriel, more to keep them awake and aware than anything.

He gave Muriel his keys once they’d reached the steps leading to the front door of the building, allowing himself a free hand to help Bee up the stairs and then to the next set that led to his apartment. Once inside, Crowley dumped his friend onto the bed, sighing when they groaned and swaddled themself with his blankets.

“Let me get you some clothes and set up the sofa Muriel...” he said quietly, “Could you get Bee some water? Cups are in the top right cupboard.”

Muriel nodded and did as they were requested as Crowley found some clean pyjamas for them to borrow and sorted out the sofa. The two got settled for bed, Muriel offering to take the sofa and Crowley scooting in next to Bee, who had already taken up three quarters of the bed.

“Bee move your ass,” Crowley hissed, earning a simple groan as they shuffled to give him more space.

He laid back and ignored Bee as they rolled over to face him, pulling up his phone to check if the bar had sent him the money from todays gig. When he opened the app, his total was more than he’d expected, confused, Crowley went to check the tab which told him any transfers had been made to and from his account.

“Shit...” he mumbled, causing Bee to perk up and nosily peer at his phone.

They snorted and grinned, “You musta done good today for him to pay you that much, gabe didn’t even pay me £350 our first day together.” Crowley didn’t meet their eye, still staring at Aziraphale’s name on his screen. “what’dya get up to anyway?”

“We didn’t.. fuck or anything,” Crowley whispered, “but we didn’t... keep out hands to ourselves. And he gave me a bath after... and let me nap on him... it was nice...”

Bee laughed loudly, earning a long ‘shhh’ from Crowley, and then rolled to lay their arm over his chest, “Well done Crowley,” they slurred, before dozing off without a moments pause. Crowley sighed and put his phone down, before pulling a blanket around Bee properly, pressing a soft kiss to his best friends forehead, and closing his eyes to sleep. He didn’t miss how they curled in closer, and sighed contently as the two drifted off.

#mlm #book tumblr #ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands fic #fanfic #crowley #aziraphale #GO smut #good omens #smut #sugar daddy au #human au

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