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weirdmorefics · 11 months ago

Note

Hiya, could you do a Aziraphale x Demon!Reader x Crowley (if that's alright with you) where it's the end of season 2 and the reader is arguing with Aziraphale because he's leaving and Crowley is just standing behind them still trying to comprehend what's happening, but because the reader is a demon they have never cried not once in their life so they start breaking down (ugly crying) and it pisses of Crowley seeing reader cry like that, hope this request is alright can change it it you want to x

A/n- Oh my goodness love this request I am a sucker for angst

AO3, Etsy Shop, Youtube,

TW- Major sadness

Reader's Pronouns- They/Them

Word Count- 978

Nothing Lasts Forever

Crowley x Reader x Aziraphale

Y/n anxiously plays with their hands waiting for Aziraphale to return, "Do you think he's safe with Metatron?"

"I am sure he will be fine. As much as we love to save our dear angel and mock him mercilessly, he's been protecting himself for eons," Crowley replies confidently.

Despite Crowley's confident words his face does not appear to match. He places Y/n's hands in his own and does not speak a word about it.

After sitting in silence for a long time, just the two of them ruminating on their own thoughts, a bell rings. Y/n stands up speedily and Crowley is quick to follow. Y/n moves closer to Aziraphale to check if any harm has been done but he has the widest grin on his face so the pair doubt he is injured.

"What did he want," Y/n asks fearing the answer.

"With Micheal being gone... there is a space. He wants me to be an archangel," Aziraphale beams with shock and joy.

Y/n is frozen in shock and Crowley steps closer, "He said what?"

"He said I could appoint you both to be angels! Come back to heaven and-and everything!" He uncharacteristically stutters due to the pure amount of joy. "Like old times probably even nicer!"

Y/n clenches their fist and gulps loudly even though they don't technically need to as a celestial being it just seemed like the situation desperately called for it.

Crowley went straight to anger, "And you told him where he can stick it? Oh, we're better than that! You're better than that, Angel! You don't need them! Y/n and I certainly don't need them! They ask Y/n and I back to Hell! We said no! I am certainly not going back to their team! Neither should you!"

"You two obviously said not to Hell, they're the bad guys," Aziraphale states surely. "Heaven is the side of truth, light, of good," he lists confused as to what Crowley is not getting.

If I could throw up I think I would. If Hell loves punishment so much you think they would make vomiting a must because it looks really painful when humans do it. Again maybe they wouldn't do that because vomiting is a way of cleansing your stomach and they are very against that.

"When Heaven ends all life on earth all humanity will be just as dead as if Hell did it," Crowley states. "Tell me you said no," Crowley says each word as if it were the end of a sentence.

Aziraphale does not respond and I am finally able to push words out of my mouth, "You did say no Azirapahle... right?"

"If I am in charge I can make a difference," he looks into Y/n's eyes with pity.

Y/n eyes have an unfamiliar feeling, they feel wet and sting.

Crowley starts to pace, "Oh god, oh, I didn't get a chance to say what I was going to say. I better say it now. Right okay. We are a team a group of us, we have known each other a long time, we all rely on each other. I would like us to- I mean if Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it. Go off with each other, then we three can! Just the three of us! We don't need Heaven we don't need Hell. They are toxic! We need be away from them and just be us," he looks between the two of us.

The unfamiliar feeling in y/n's eyes spreads leaving a trail of wetness down their cheek. The wetness keeps spreading they can feel several different lines of water down my face.

Aziraphale runs up to Crowley, "Come with me to Heaven I'll run it the best and you will be my second in command! We can make a difference!"

Y/n bites her lip harshly, " What about the bookshop? What about humanity? The new food inventions you will miss out on? What about our life here!"

The two look at Y/n oddly and the new feeling in them makes them clench their eyes tight and gasp. Y/n wipes their hand across their face and looks down at the wetness in their hands. The wetness won't stop streaming down my face. This isn't right. I shouldn't be able to cry. I shouldn't feel this deeply. Nevertheless, I can't stop the water in my eyes and can't stop gasping for air that I don't even need.

Aziraphale looks at me in a way he never has before. It's the gaze humans give their offspring when they first realize the world is unfair and unjust.

"Oh Y/n, nothing lasts forever," Aziraphale says regretfully.

Y/n puts their palm to their chest and gasps, "Oh."

Crowley looks at Aziraphale with disgust, "That's how it is... good luck then."

Y/n looks up at Crowley vision blurry with newfound tears and Crowley looks back mournfully. Crowley throws his arm around Y/n's shoulder and starts to escort them out the door.

"Good luck?' Aziraphale gasps. "I don't think you know what I am offering the two of you!"

"I think the two of us know better than you do," Crowley snaps back.

Aziarphale tries to negotiate with Y/n, "Y/n, please you are supposed to be the reasonable one out of the two of you! You are no demon you are crying!"

Crowley's jaw tightens and Y/n clenches their fists harder than they have in their entire long life.

Y/n can barely gasp out, "You hear that?"

Aziraphale shakes his head rapidly, "I hear nothing!"

"Exactly, no nightingales," Y/n gasps again.

"You idiot! We could have been something! Just the three us," Crowley shouts as he leads Y/n out the door leaving a stunned and a little bit broken Aziraphale.

#good omens fanfiction #good omens x reader #crowley x reader #crowley x aziraphale #crowley x arizaphale #crowley x y/n #crowley x you #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale x y/n #aziraphale x you #aziraphale x reader #good omens drabble #good omens oneshot

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thedemonknownasbilly · 11 months ago

Note

Awesome!

If you're willing, could I request headcanons for Aziraphale x Crowley x gender neutral reader where reader is chubby and insecure about their appearance?

Oh, Darling - HC for Ineffable Husbands with Chubby!Reader

Absolutely! Sorry for the delay, it was around midnight for me when I replied to the first anon, and I was just knocked out right after!

Ineffable Husbands x GN!Reader

Any and all pet names/compliments are meant as GN!

Mentions ED/Skipping meals (that’s more of a personal touch on my end as someone who is a bit curvier than average)

So let’s cover how they treat you separately, since as much as they try to be, they aren’t always attached at the hip.

Crowley

To be honest it took him a minute to even notice, ethereal (occult) beings don’t typically fuss or pay attention to “human flaws”

You guys would have met at the park bench, he was waiting for Aziraphale, and his was the only bench with a spot open.

“Could I sit here?”

“Hm?” He’d look up from his newspaper and will any blush on his cheeks to discorporate “yeah, yeah, he’s running late so I’m sure I’ll be leaving soon.”

You’d start talking to the ducks, and he was a goner, slowly joining in your conversation and just having a grand time with you.

When Aziraphale finally showed up, Crowley left you his number and told you to text him the next time you wanted to talk about anything.

He gushed about you and your knowledge of ducks to Aziraphale, who teased his husband over this crush.

After a good thousand texts, a few hang outs, and Aziraphale’s okay after a lengthy conversation, Crowley asked you out, and ofc you said yes.

He absolutely adores your curves, never seeing them as a flaw.

Won’t stand for any blasphemy you might have to say against it.

He will happily curl himself around you, slender fingers on your hips as he adorns you in kisses.

He notices some days you’ll shy away from his touch, and he never wants you uncomfortable.

But one day you had shied away all day, (he always kept track) he’d even say you were almost flinching from his touch.

This worried him, every situation he conjured in his head was that he had upset you or maybe that you didn’t even love him anymore.

So it certainly made you have to repress a sad giggle when you saw those sad yellow eyes look up at you as he asked, “is there another?”

“Never in a million years, my darling.” And with that he relaxed and sat beside you, noticing how you pressed yourself to the side of the couch.

“Then what’s with this, why won’t you let me touch you..?” He was always big on boundaries and respect, but usually he was given a sort of heads up, not just thrusted into a new rule.

“It’s silly…”

“If it’s important to you, it’s important to me.”

You’d go on to explain everything, how you’d always been the bigger kid, how the curves and rolls of your body often were topics of things your exes hated about you. The bullying, the lack of food, the unaffordable research on surgery even. “But even then, I’m scared you’ll realize I’m not worth the pain that a human comes with if I’m not attractive enough.”

Crowley listened intently, he always would, but he couldn’t deny that he hated what he was hearing. “Let me touch you, please.”

And when you shyly nodded, his hands were on your thighs as he surged forward and pressed his lips to yours.

“I don’t give two fucks about human beauty. You’re perfect for me.” He’d growl out as he moved to kiss down your jaw and neck, pressing his lips to every stretch of skin he could reach. “Think I give a fuck? Really? Ask Aziraphale how much we go to the Ritz, think to every time I’ve asked you. At first I figured it wasn’t your cup of tea. Not that you were treating yourself so downright wrong.”

You couldn’t help to giggle at that, and he looked up at you. “I would really like to go to lunch with you, and if it helps, we can invite the angel.”

Having Aziraphale there did help, he was enjoying his food without a care in the world for any leering eyes, and you did the same, blushing as your boyfriend adored you and his husband.

He was always there, especially now that he knew, always behind you when you stood too long in the mirror, hands on your hips as he’d whisper praises and compliments into your ear, making you repeat a few on the worst days.

Aziraphale

Once again, Aziraphale would hardly count it as the first thing he noticed. He certainly wasn’t the most slender figure himself even by human standards.

You two would meet at Maggie’s Record Shop. He was there to pick up something new and you were browsing for your favorite CDs to be on record.

He was thrilled to see Maggie have a customer and swore than if he had put a heart into his form that it would be pounding out of his chest.

He’d hurry to the Record Shop every time he saw you in the windows, finally after four run-ins, you introduced yourself to him.

You would be the only person regularly allowed into the bookshop.

Crowley had met you numerous times since, and he even encouraged his angel to ask you out. So Aziraphale finally did.

He soon found his favorite spot was to have his head on your lap, your fingers scratching against his scalp as you two would listen to whatever he’d put on the record.

He noticed one day though when you seemed to be fidgeting before he laid down, and it took him a moment to realize you were trying to make yourself look smaller.

“My darling, what are you doing?” He asked carefully, sitting beside you and placing a hand on your thigh.

Something about such a simple question and gesture made you break down, explaining how you wanted to be perfect, that you wished you looked more like Crowley did so that these treacherous thoughts would leave your mind.

Aziraphale was concerned, feeling a twist in his stomach as he carefully pulled you onto his lap, a position you tried to protest, but when he whispered out a “for me, please,” you couldn’t say no.

“My darling, having one of Crowley is more than enough. I’m quite happy to have you as you are, wouldn’t dream of asking you to change in any way.”

He’d listen to every thought you had, giving you all of his attention as his thumbs trace circles on your thighs and hips, and when you were done, he’d counter every argument with his own, explaining gently that he had truly never paid much attention to your own weight, that it was your soul and personality he adored.

“But you are quite gorgeous, I found myself aching to see you everyday before I got to know you. I’d sit right here at my desk, and wait, hoping you’d come back.” He would cup your face as he said that, “I’m not perfect by human standards either, I chose this form, why on earth would I make you change when certainly I could be in a better body for you as well.”

He always watched out for signs of those thoughts creeping back in, but everyday, he’d end it by kissing you everywhere before bed, murmuring praises and compliments against your skin like a prayer.

Ineffable Husbands

You had ventured into the bookshop on a rainy day, noticing a red and black snake perched on a sweater in the warmest spot he could be in.

“Aren’t you adorable?” You’d coo, looking around for anyone to ask before whispering to the snake, “can I pet you?”

At that the snake opened one yellow eye, looked you up and down and nodded, very human like you thought, but you carefully rested a finger against his head, between his eyes, and stroked down his body, watching as the snake seemed perfectly happy with such actions and melted back into the sweater.

Soon the owner emerged from the back, “oh I do apologize, I was fetching some lanterns incase we lost power.” He said, Aziraphale you’d learn his name was, he certainly had a small look of shock on his face when he saw Crowley allowing you to stroke him.

“So,” Aziraphale talked to the snake when you had left hours later, “I take it someone likes them?”

“Me?” Crowley slithered onto the floor and changed forms, “what about you excitedly prattling on and showing them every book of every topic they mentioned. You even let them take one home.”

“They’re bringing it back!” Aziraphale chuckled in an effort of protest.

“Oh, sweet love of mine, I think we both fancy them.” // “Indeed it seems we both do, I hope they spend more time with us soon.”

Months later, you had learned that Crowley was the snake from that day, not being horrified but instead it made you reach up without thinking and gently stroke his hair, if demons could actually melt he was certain he’d be a puddle on the floor of the bookshop, Aziraphale had gone to fetch you a new book, and Crowley trapped you onto the couch, seemingly having no joints as he curled himself around you as best he could; his head on your shoulder.

“Crowley, dear, can’t hog them to yourself now.” And Aziraphale sat beside you, hand on your waist (under Crowley) and a head on your shoulder. “I think it’s fair that we say, well, we like you. The both of us.”

You giggled at the obvious statement and turned to kiss him as his answer, hearing Crowley whine and giving him a kiss right after.

Within the next two months, you had also moved into the flat above the bookshop, which made it easier for your two loves to see just how much you seemed uncomfortable with yourself.

“When’s the last time they ate?” Crowley murmured one day, swearing that he hadn’t seen you eat all day, or the day before.

“A while, I’m worried.” With that, they both searched for you, not expecting to find you curled up under the blankets with tear stains on your cheeks.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” The with sit on the edge of the bed, Aziraphale’s hand stroking your hair and Crowley’s rubbing your back.

“Got in my head…” you’d murmur, striking concern within them as they soon encouraged you to lay in the middle of the bed, Aziraphale to your front and Crowley to your back.

Crowley’s hand never leaving your hips as he pressed kisses to you, “don’t hide from me,” he’d say when he felt you trying to will your body further into the bed. And when Aziraphale finally asked what was wrong, you told them everything from childhood, to today, “I just want to be attractive enough for an angel and a demon, like those other ones are.”

“My dear,” Aziraphale said rather seriously, “you are more than attractive enough, haven’t we shown that?” Crowley still pressing kisses made your mind seem fuzzy with bliss as Aziraphale kissed your lips, seemingly trying to pour every ounce of his adoration into it.

They would spent hours telling you about every part of you they loved, leaving no room for any insecurities, mentally or physically.

“I quite like you at this size, more for me to hold, just like with ‘Ziraphale.”

“And besides, while you may be human, we aren’t, I assure you, Crowley could pick us both up and not break a sweat.”

They’d take turns whenever an insecurity seemed to pop back up on bad days, whichever notice would help you for hours, making sure you never felt less than with them.

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denaliwrites · 11 months ago

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Out There Making DuckTales

Aziraphale x GN!Reader x Crowley

Catch and Release Prompt: "Vessel"

Summary: You and Aziraphale help Crowley adjust to a new experience.

Soundtrack: DuckTales Theme by Felicia Barton

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Hijinks and such.

"Crowley, I swear to God, if you do not stop squirming --"

"Hgk."

"Crowley!"

Aziraphale watched in some unholy mix of amusement and distress while you and Crowley adjusted to your new -- and hopefully temporary -- situation.

Your guts roiled unnaturally as Crowley shifted. "All these -- new bits -- how do you humans cope?!" his voice came from inside your head, but simultaneously sounded outside of yourself -- no doubt for Aziraphale's benefit. "There's so many pieces. And they're all so --"

"Crowley, please," you begged in a whine.

Immediately, the twitching and shifting inside you stilled. "Sorry, love," his voice whispered in your mind. You were glad this one was just for you -- no echo outside of your head, no admonishing look from Aziraphale meant for the demon harbored in your body.

"How did you get discorporated, anyway?" the angel asked, wringing his hands nervously. "And why are you holed up in our dear friend?"

"I volunteered," you answered easily, as Crowley twitched. You imaged it as his hand, fingers flexing nervously at the other question. "And he, uh. Well."

You mentally nudged the demon.

"Hgk."

"Tell him, Crowley."

"I don't want to," the demon hissed to only you.

You smiled. "I'll tell him if you don't."

There were a few moments of grumbling that, even with it being directly in your mind, you could not even hope to decipher, before the mutterings became a fully formed word, "Ducks."

"I'm sorry?" Aziraphale asked, blinking rapidly. "What did you say?"

"Ducks!" Crowley shouted, and as he metaphorically(?) threw his arms up in defeat, your arms were forced to follow the gesture. You whimpered, but Crowley didn't seem too bothered by it. "I... pissed off the ducks."

"You... you what?"

"I pissed off the ducks!"

"And how did that... how did you get discorporated by ducks?"

"Have you ever met a gaggle of angry waterfowl?!"

Aziraphale was too stunned to speak for several moments. Crowley didn't seem to want to elaborate, so you filled in the silence with:

"He, uh. He tripped. Into a fence. And got Final Destination'd."

"He -- I'm sorry -- what?"

"Impaled. He got impaled."

"Oh, heavens, Crowley."

"It was the bloody ducks, Angel!"

#aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale x you #crowley x you #good omens x reader #good omens fic #good omens fan fiction #michael sheen #david tennant #catch and release prompt

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sardonic-the-writer · 2 years ago

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𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐞𝐬

↳ summary: in which crowley has a cold

↳ warnings: none!

↳ song: like real people do—hozier

masterlist!

Spring was a wonderful time of year all over the world. It was when the sun peaked its head out from behind fluffy clouds and let the flowers bloom, washing away any gloom winter might have left behind.

Walkways suddenly became full of pedestrians meandering about in city's and small towns alike. Large puffy parkas were shed in favor of light jackets and shorts.

Shops were suddenly bustling with all sorts of people out and about, taking advantage of the beautiful weather to buy a coffee or new pair of pants.

But in Soho, London, one shop seemed to be an outlier.

If any of the passing foot traffic had taken a moment to peak into the glassy windows of said shop, an elegant sign reading Fell & Co hanging over their heads, they would have had the pleasure of seeing three very different people all talking to each other idly.

Even if the conversation was anything but.

"Really Aziraphale, you think he'd be a bit less chatty when sick. Peace and quite for once an all that."

A light gasp sounded from your left, prompting you to look at the angel next to you.

"That is not nice!" Aziraphale said your name full of disappointment, prompting an apologetic smile to spread across your lips.

"Sorry, mate. But I'm not wrong, am I?" You said while continuing to help him shelf books.

"Bite me." A lump of blankets behind you growled in response, a head of red hair poking out of one end.

"No, thank you, Crowley. I'll catch your cold."

It was supposed to have been a normal day. You had called and asked Aziraphale if this afternoon was a good day to pop in for a visit, only to be met with the sort of panic that could only be described as fretting.

Apparently, Crowley has never taken too well to the springtime. Who knew a demon could have allergies?

Each time he or Aziraphale attempted to miracle away the cold, it would just pop back up a few seconds later. It was as if someone had cursed him with a mild inconvenience. You wouldn't be too surprised if that was the case, actually. I mean, this is Crowley you're talking about. He's not exactly the best at making friends—even if he did manage to snag you somehow.

By the time you had arrived at the bookstore, swinging open the door as the closed signed clattered against it loudly, they had given up on any thought of magical remedies.

So here you were. Hovering over the sick demon with a concerned look. Er, well, Aziraphale was. You had opted for more of a quirked eyebrow, not willing to show how worried you were just yet. Lord, er Satan, or whoever the fuck knows Crowley wouldn't let you live that down.

"If anything Crowley—" You paused for a moment to flip the book you had been holding upside down into its rightful place before handing it off to Aziraphale, "—I'd say this is karma from all those times you yell at your plants."

"To hell with my damn plants!" He sniffled, sun glasses no longer on his face as he glared at your back.

Before you could get a word in edgewise, a sneeze sounded out from the couch. Without even looking, your knee-jerk reaction kicked in.

"God bless you."

You got two very different reactions out of that.

Aziraphale practically beamed at your words, and Crowley hissed as if physically hit, curling in on himself. It wasn't until you stopped to consider what you had just said that you realized your blunder.

"Sorry." You cringed. "Forgot about the demon stuff."

"Forgot? Remind me, angel, why do we even keep them around." Crowley spat, pulling yet another blanket onto his ever growing pile. You risked a glance back at him only to be met with slitted eyes. You simply let out a nervous laugh before scooting to a different bookshelf farther away from him. Better safe than sorry when it came to your demon friend.

"Because we like them, remember? They complimented my vest and your Bently, and then you asked if we could keep them." The angel responded. If he noticed how you choked on air at that last bit, he didn't choose to say anything.

"He said what now?" You coughed harshly at the same time Crowley groaned.

"Yeah yeah. A mistake in the heat of the moment." Was all he said before retreating further into the blanket burrito he had concocted. Somewhere in there was a quilt you were sure Aziraphale had knitted for him centuries ago, but you chose not to point out the tiny detail, instead filing that information away for later as a hidden smile played at your lips.

"As much fun socializing with you two is, I must admit you need to get some rest, Crowley. If we are to fix this problem without a miracle, the human way will have to do." Aziraphale turned to face his companion after you helped file the last pile of books away. You were quick to follow his actions.

Crowley opened his mouth as if to retort, but his eyes flickered from your face and Aziraphales for just a moment. With that he muttered something under his breath and turned over grumpily.

"Just—bugger off." His words were muffled by a dense pillow currently being smooshed to his face. You couldn't tell if it was that or something else, but his voice didn't sound as venomous as it normally did when talking to you.

"Alrighty then!" Aziraphale clapped his hands with a smile, none the wiser. "Ring if you need us, won't you?"

With that, he began to politely exit in the direction of the back of the store. Probably to go read a new series he just got in or re-read another.

You shuffled off behind the angel—only pausing at the entrance to the backroom after taking one more look back at Crowley.

Without saying a word, you took your phone out and set the volume just high enough to be heard. Setting it down on a nearby surface, you pressed play before quickly tip toeing out the room. As if that would stop the fallen angel from figuring out who left it there.

You slipped away just in time to miss Freddy Mercury's voice start-up. As well as the way Crowley smiled in spite of himself, starting to feel a little better already.

#good omens #good omens x reader #good omens x you #good omens x y/n #aziraphale #aziraphale x reader #aziraphale x you #aziraphale x y/n #crowley #crowley x reader #crowley x you #crowley x y/n #crowley x arizaphale #x reader #drabble #fluff

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owen-writes · 10 months ago

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Dysphoria Blues

Ineffable Husbands x Gender Neutral Reader

No pronouns but the reader is implied as transgender

You were feeling a bit off today, the weight of dysphoria settling on your shoulders like a heavy cloak. Sensing your mood, Aziraphale and Crowley decided to take matters into their own celestial hands.

Aziraphale, ever the caring one, ushered you to the living room, adorned with soft cushions and warm lighting. "My dear, I can't bear to see you like this," he said with genuine concern. "Crowley and I have devised a plan to lift your spirits."

Crowley, leaning against the doorframe with a sly grin, added, "Yeah, angel and demon dream team at your service."

They gently guided you to the couch, Crowley's touch reassuringly warm against your skin. Once settled, Aziraphale fetched a weighted blanket, draping it over you like a comforting embrace. Crowley, with his characteristic swagger, took his place beside you.

Aziraphale's soothing voice filled the room as he began reading aloud from your favorite book. "Darling, we thought this might distract you a bit," he said, his eyes sparkling with kindness.

Crowley, with his characteristic wit, chimed in, "And if it doesn't, blame the angel. I'm just here for moral support."

You couldn't help but crack a small smile at their banter. Aziraphale continued reading, his voice like a balm to your troubled soul. Meanwhile, Crowley, draped in an air of nonchalant confidence, had his arm around you, fingers tracing absent patterns on your shoulder.

"Angel," you murmured, your head nestled comfortably in Aziraphale's lap, "thank you for this. It really helps."

He looked down at you, his expression softening. "Anything for you, my dear. We only want to see you happy."

Crowley, playing his part, smirked and whispered, "Yeah, don't go thinking we're turning soft or anything."

As Aziraphale continued reading, Crowley's fingers found yours, intertwining in a subtle display of solidarity. "You know," Crowley said, his voice lower now, "you're not alone in this. We're here for you."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through you—a warmth that had nothing to do with the weighted blanket. Despite Crowley's tough exterior, there was a genuine concern in his eyes, and you couldn't help but appreciate the effort they both put into making you feel better.

Hours passed in the cozy embrace of the weighted blanket, Aziraphale's voice becoming a lullaby, and Crowley's presence a steady anchor. As the story unfolded, so did a sense of calm within you.

In that shared space between an angel and a demon, you found solace—a reminder that love and care transcend celestial boundaries. And as the words of your favorite book wove a tapestry of comfort around you, you couldn't help but be grateful for the extraordinary beings who had chosen to share their ordinary, heartwarming moments with you.

#crowley x you #crowley good omens #crowley x reader #crowley #good omems fic #good omens x reader #good omens imagine #good omens #crowley x aziraphale #crowley x Aziraphale x reader #aziraphale x reader #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale x you #Aziraphale x Crowley x reader #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #ineffable spouses #ineffable husbands x reader #ineffable spouses x reader

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hearts4court · 10 months ago

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Court's thoughts!

a/n: here are some random thoughts(blurbs) i have of characters from other fandoms that i’m to lazy to make a masterlist for !!

this will be uploaded 1-3 times a week!

Main Masterlist

protective bf!sam (Sfw) > blurb > fluff, Sam Golbach X afab!reader

husband!soap. (Nsfw) > blurb > smut, Johnny “Soap” Mactavish X fem!wife!reader…… pt 2, pt 3, pt 4

Dating Alejandro Vargas aesthetic (sfw)(nsfw) > mood board> fluff, slight smut, Alejandro Vargas X fem!reader

taking care of denki (sfw) > blurb > fluff, Denki Kaminari X afab!reader

Dating Colby Brock aesthetic (sfw) > mood board > fluff, Colby Brock X fem!reader

In secret (Nsfw) > blurb > smut, Phillip Graves X fem!141!reader

Investigating with Sam and Colby (Sfw) > mood board > fluff, bsf!Colby Brock X bsf!Sam Golbach X afab!reader

desperate!sapnap (nsfw) > blurb > smut, Sapnap X afab!reader

husband!toji (nsfw) > blurb hcs > smut, Toji Fushiguro X fem!reader

bf!peter parker (sfw) > blurb hcs > fluff, Peter Parker x afab!reader

Don’t copy, translate or repost any of my work w/o my permission.

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jophiel-extras · 1 year ago

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Hi, can you do an aziraphale x reader one, where reader is oblivious that aziraphale has developed feelings for them and he tries signaling it to them but after a while he just gives up and blurts it out? 🩵

summary :: Aziraphale has being trying to catch your eye for some time and eventually becomes fed up with your head being in the heavens

warning :: none, fluff

note :: I never expected to get three Aziraphale requests in a row, I thought it would’ve been Crowley city in my inbox

Aziraphale has been on earth long enough to know how to ‘court’ another person.

Despite being socially… off to human standards, he can be quite smooth.

He has been quite smooth, a few times. To you specifically although you never seem to take the hint. Aziraphale finds it “dreadfully cute,” but it’s quite comedic at this point.

The first time Aziraphale attempted to be romantic towards you, was buying you a bouquet of lovely flowers. They were the prettiest Cala Lillies you’d ever seen.

“Oh Aziraphale, they’re lovely,” You glossed a finger over the rounded petal of a singe Lilly, then returned your eyes to Aziraphale, “what are they for?”

“Well erm, they’re for you, dear.” Aziraphale stuttered.

“Yes but what for?”

You couldn’t quite grasp the idea that Aziraphale had gotten you flowers for no reason other than he simply liked you.

Aziraphale would ask you out for dates (which you considered friendly hang-outs) and always paid the bill. Which you usually protested.

Never left a door unopened for you.

He would lend you his coat if ever the weather called for it. No other had gotten that kind of special treatment. He prized his coat, after all.

Always threading compliments into your conversations.

“You look marvellous.” Or “What a lovely outfit.” Even “You’re glowing this evening.” And “I enjoy your company so much.”

All met with a chipper; “Awh, thanks Aziraphale!”

He’s a big gift giver too, he loves to drown you in presents.

Even if you merely mention liking something in a shop window, it’ll end up in your home one way or another.

Often, for gift giving holidays like Christmas or your birthday, Aziraphale will have a minimum of five presents waiting for you.

No matter the amount Aziraphale spoils you, it never seems to click.

At this point, Crowley had caught on and began teasing him.

Crowley’s teasing ruffled his feathers, quite a lot, causing the Angel to become ever so slightly frustrated with your ignorance.

“You know it’s never going to work, not with a human so dumb.” Crowley muttered.

“Don’t be rude.” Aziraphale defended.

“In fact, I think it’s such a lost cause that I might even pray for you.”

Crowley, praying for him?

That’s when the frustration got to the better of him and with a huff, Aziraphale made his way to your whereabouts for a serious confession.

It took Aziraphale a year or two of pining before an outright confession.

If patience were a person, it would’ve been Aziraphale! But something had bugged him so sorely about your airiness towards his feelings that he had lost sleep about it.

And when Crowley had a go at the sleepless, pining Aziraphale things had suddenly changed.

“I fancy you! No, I love you,” he had quickly changed his words, ‘fancy’ giving you too much room for a miscommunication, “very dearly, and I have for some time.” At this point, Aziraphale had begun fidgeting, he’d never been so forthright before.

“Love me?” You parroted.

“Yes! Romantically, very romantically.” He hurriedly specified.

“Oh Aziraphale, I never knew you felt that way.”

God bless you. How could you be so oblivious?

#aziraphale good omens #aziraphale x reader #aziraphel #aziraphale x you #aziraphale x y/n #good omens #good omens x reader

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moonlightshaiku · 1 year ago

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Kissing Aziraphale

At first, there's barely any kissing. He's nervous, shy, easily flustered. Nothing too long or handsy. He's a perfect gentleman, thank you!

Once he gets in a routine, and gets more confident, he'll get quite touchy (though he won't admit it). He likes to peck his partner's lips or cheeks even when simply leaving the room, and he gives them big, watery doe eyes when they leave the bookshop. They're always full of love, though, those looks. So much adoration.

When his partner is gone for a long time is really when he likes to kiss. He'd said, only once, that his partner truly made him realize the passage of time.

He pouts, ever so slightly. It doesnt look childish, it just looks like Aziraphale. Big eyes and furrowed brows as he takes you in. He steps forward, and it starts some kind of wave of emotion in him.

He hurries forward, face scrunching and eyes watering. He takes you in his arms, warm and soft, thick fabric folding under the pressure of the hug. He smells like warmth and ink, cracked book spines and tea.

He pulls back to grasp your face in his hands. They're large, plush, and smooth. He presses his lips to yours, and moves one hand to rub your back. His lips are smooth and dry, never chapped. You can feel the wet, cooling tears on his cheeks, and it brings a lump to your throat.

"I missed you, dear." He finally says, pulling you to him again.

#good omens spoilers #some aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale x reader #aziraphale x you #ineffable husbands x reader #good omens season 1 #good omens season 2

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doctorcrowleywho · 2 years ago

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Hello! If you're currently taking requests, would you mind doing an Aziraphale x female angel reader fic with them half jokingly singing the song Sixteen Going On Seventeen from the Sound of Music to each other?

THIS MAY OR MAY NOT BE BAD OR GOOD! MY HOPE IS GOOD!

The Apprentice

Word count - 1642

Warnings - tons of fluff and the sound of music

Pairing(s) - Aziraphale x gn! reader

Summary - You and Azirapjale torture Crowley with a Sound of Music duet

In the grand scheme of things, you were a relatively new angel, even though you hated that stereotype. In your eyes, you were just as responsible and ready for a real mission as any other angel. Gabriel always viewed you as the weakest link, even though you did try your very best at things. It never seemed to be good enough, but that was Gabriel for you- the angel with the most unrealistic expectations.

For centuries you begged for a mission on earth, wanting desperately to help on the front lines. There was only one angel on earth that has stayed on earth since the beginning, so that job was spoken for. However, once Aziraphale heard there was an angel that wanted to be on Earth as much as he did he was the first to hatch a plan to get you down there.

Which was about the nicest thing any angel has ever done for you, and he didn’t even know you. Wasn’t that what an angel was supposed to be like? Not whatever you dealt with every day in the sanitary office space that was heaven. Love was messy, unpredictable, and found in all of the most unexpected places.

“Well,” Gabriel clapped making you jump slightly at your desk. You were currently deep in paperwork, which you never understood why heaven had paperwork. “,it looks like Aziraphale is looking for an apprentice, and for whatever reason, he’s chosen you.”

At this, your eyes lit up as you jumped up from your seat which made Gabriel jump back slightly. “Really!” you practically squealed doing a quick little happy dance. He hated it when angels showed too much emotion, that's why he was personally happy you were going down to help Aziraphale. Perhaps he’d keep you in line somehow.

“Unfortunately, yes.” he sighed fidgeting with his hands as he walked away from you “, he expects you immediately by the way,” he called back making your heart beat fast in your chest.

Squeezing your eyes tight you couldn’t help but let out a short happy squeal. This could very well be the start of your forever, and you were ecstatic.

—-

Aziraphale was ecstatic to have another angel like him around. Yes, Crowley was a wonderful partner- or uh enemy, who he regularly enjoyed to the company of. But, perhaps this new angel would like the same things he did. Maybe he could take them to all his favorite bookshops, record stores, and even restaurants. Oh, he couldn’t wait to show them the wonders of food.

He was tidying up the shop to make your coming to earth extra special. Nothing partially fancy, just putting books in the right places. Which, to his surprise none of them were even close.

“I don’t understand why we need another angel around, one is plenty,” Crowley mumbled under his breath taking a swig of whatever Aziraphale had that was drinkable around. Thankfully, it was just whisky this time.

With a huff Aziraphale turned to Crowley and placed his hands on his hips “You know maybe you’d benefit from another angel in your life. Could turn that from upside do-” he was starting to tease but was interrupted by four knocks.

“This should be fun,” Crowley muttered one last time making his angel roll his eyes as Aziraphale went to answer the door. For whatever reason, he felt like his heart skipped a few beats.

As he answered the door he couldn’t help the smile that tugged on his lips as his eyes fell upon you and your radiant essence. Of course, he knew you were an angel, but the light that seemed to shine from you was unlike no other that he was used to. It took him a moment to come to as he shook his head to clear his mind.

“H-hello,” you began practically sounding like one of those door-to-door sellers “,I am a regular old human wondering if I could come in to look at your paper stacks with words on them-”

“Books.” he reminded you beaming at you like a proud teacher.

“Books! Yes, I’d love to come in and look at your books please!” you smiled nodding your head suddenly feeling very proud of yourself as well.

A soft chuckle fell out of his lips as he shook his head in utter disbelief, he won the lottery with you he was sure of it. “Please come in dear! I’d love to show you my newest collection.” he mused opening the door for you.

A soft gasp fell from your lips this time as you stepped into his bookshop. It was just as amazing as you’d imagined, and you had lots of time to imagine how different things on earth would look like at your boring office job. The air smelled like fresh pine with a mixture of dust that could spur flashbacks from any great point in history. The soft lights almost created a feeling of soft warmth. It felt like you were finally coming home for the first time.

You couldn’t help but venture further into the bookshop until you stumbled into his backroom. Which was where you saw him, the wily serpent Crowley. Upon seeing you he tried to put on the typical demon act that he always did. But, that was hard when he was already three bottles of whiskey down. He did his usual sly demon smirk and realized he didn’t have his glasses on. His golden eyes went wide as he lazily searched for them.

“Well hello there angel.” he chuckled darkly (or he tried to) as he watched you shiver just a bit at his presence.

However, you relaxed almost immediately feeling Aziraphales's well-manicured hand on your shoulder. He glared over at Crowley like the cutest attack dog ever. “Really my dear is that necessary?” he huffed making Crowley hiss ever so softly.

“Ssssorry twas forgetting myself.” Crowley sighed flinging his glasses off as he pursed his lips together.

“Dear this is just Crowley, don’t worry about him he’s about as scary as a garden snake,” Aziraphale teased making Crowley scrunch his face up in return “, anyways how about you sit down as I find some music to put on.” he hummed gesturing to a chair right next to the love seat Crowley was spread out on.

But, that’s when you saw it and you couldn’t help but squeal excitedly when you did. It was about the only other thing you knew about the earth, and you were frankly very proud of it. Quickly, you picked it up and handed it to the other angel. “Can we listen to this!” you asked eyes wide.

“The Sound of Music?” Aziraphale read the title out loud which earned the loudest groan Crowley could muster.

“THE SOUND OF MUSIC? I am not drunk enough for this!” He picked up another bottle and began to work on the cap as you nodded hurriedly.

“Please,” you begged sticking out your bottom lip and Aziraphale felt his knees go weak “,I love the sound of music, it’s all they let us listen to in heaven!” you giggled making Aziraphle chuckle to himself.

“Oh trust me darling I know,” he winked over at you having no choice but to put it on. Snapping his fingers he set it to play a song he felt was very fitting for the moment.

“You wait, little one, on an empty stage

For fate to turn the light on

Your life, little one, is an empty page

That men will want to write on.” he sang along offering you his hand which you took immediately.

“Tooooooooo write on” you sang through a series of broken giggles. This was better then you could of ever expected. If this was how being on earth was going to be then you never wanted to leave. As long as Aziraphle was there you felt right at home.

“Oh no they’re singing…. discorporate me now.” Crowley hissed from the couch covering his face with his hands.

“You need someone older and wiser

Telling you what to do

I am seventeen going on eighteen

I´ll take care of you” Aziraphale continued paying no mind to the grumpy demon on the couch. He only had eyes for you anyway, and he was going to protect his little spark of light with everything he could.

Your eyes seemed to sparkle as he twirled you around his backroom. To you, he held the entire world in his hands, and you were the luckiest angel alive to have him show it to you. If you had your halo on you swore it’d be brighter than any kind of sun in the galaxy.

“I am sixteen going on seventeen

I know that I´m naive

Fellows I meet may tell me I´m sweet

And willingly I believe” with that lyric you kissed him on the cheek making him turn the brightest shade of red you have ever seen. But, you couldn’t help it you were so full of love that it had to be shown somehow.

“I need someone older and wiser

Telling me what to do

You are seventeen going on eighteen

I´ll depend on you” as you sang the last line he took a deep breath before kissing you on the nose, which even made Crowley perk up. That was fast, especially for the angel's standards. He had no idea how heaven managed to send a perfect fit this easily.

Now it was your turn to go bright red. You had no idea that he was going to reciprocate. However, he gave you no time to react as he scurried out of the back room going to check on the kettle. Leaving you to touch your nose like a crazy person with Crowley sitting there wide eyed.

“He never put on tea.” the demon muttered raising an eyebrow.

#aziraphale x reader #aziraphale #aziraphale good omens #aziraphale x you #aziraphale x y/n #good omens fluff #good omens fic #crowley good omens #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens season 2 #david tennant #david tennant fanfiction #micheal sheen #micheal sheen fanfiction #fanfiction #x reader #good omens x reader #sound of music

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buryustogether · 1 year ago

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in the lap of the gods

aziraphale x f!reader x crowley

summary: it’s 1941, and aziraphale is about to perform on the west end stage. he needs an assistant, of course, but you can’t stand the outfit you’re required to wear. your angel and your demon show you just how much they love it.

word count: 3k

warnings/tags: smut and fluff, reader wears a slutty outfit, threesome, thigh riding, semi-public sex, body worship, crowley’s a horny bitch, war violence, bombs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of guns

“I really don’t see why this get-up has got to be so… revealing,” you said. “I look like a harlot.”

“Well,” came a voice from behind the thin paper of the changing screen, “I suppose it’s to entice the strapping young soldiers out there. They do seem to enjoy a bit of… should I say… adultery?”

There came a second voice from further in the room, coiled and slick like a serpent. “Or,” he drawled, “it’s for easy access.”

“Crowley,” chided the first voice, disdain dripping from his tongue.

You gave a silent huff as you adjusted the skimpy little outfit the manager of the West End theater had given you, tugging at the thin material that barely covered your breasts and the thin strap that snaked between your legs. It was a glittery, near-elastic piece of pazazz that was sure to earn you more than a few glances and whistles this evening… something you promised you wouldn’t let get to you. If not for your reputation, for the pair of men on the other side of the changing screen that encased you like a butterfly trapped in a jar.

If you inhaled deep enough, you were still able to smell the smoke that clung to Aziraphale and Crowley’s suits, permeating the air and poisoning their natural musks that you so loved to inhale. You had spent the better part of the evening, as you followed them through London streets and around a magic shop, picking pieces of rubble and dusting traces of the explosion from their backs and shoulders. The bomb had shaken you to your core despite being miles away when it had happened, tucked away safely in the passenger seat of the Bentley.

“Crowley,” you had said as your demon had parked his car between the shadows of two tall, sturdy buildings that still stood against the smoke and destruction of the bombs. “What are we doing here? There’s still planes overhead.”

“Just sit tight for a minute, love,” he’d replied before climbing from the Bentley. “It seems our angel’s got himself in a heap of mess.”

The explosion had rocked the ancient church in the distance like a match igniting a stick of dynamite; fast, and hot, and loud. You waited so long you considered getting out and running to search the site for your lovers before they had come strolling around the corner through the dark, dusting themselves off and murmuring quietly beneath their breaths.

“Aziraphale,” you had said when you climbed from the car to greet them. “What on earth have you done?”

“Good evening to you, as well, my darling,” he had said, then lifted your hand and placed a loving kiss upon your knuckles. “Just got myself a bit caught up. Nothing to worry your head over.”

Crowley had harrumphed slightly as he dropped himself into the driver’s seat once more. “Get in, you two. I’ve got an appointment to keep.”

An appointment had led to forty broken bottles of whiskey. Forty broken bottles of whiskey had led to Aziraphale becoming a magician, and that had led to buying a very real rifle with very real bullets. And the rifle, and the bullets, and the broken bottles of whiskey, and everything else had led to you finding yourself here behind this changing screen, examining the costume of a magician’s assistant who, really, was only there to look pretty and smile when the light panned over her.

Crowley had told you it would be a bit of fun, was all. Aziraphale had assured you no real harm would be done.

Had you not loved them both more than you needed air to breathe, you might have considered saying no, begging your angel to not get up on that stage, dropping to your knees and begging your demon to miracle up a few more bottles of liquor to make up for the whole thing.

But, oh… you loved them far too much.

��Are you about settled, my darling?” came Aziraphale’s voice from deeper in the cramped little dressing room. “It’s ten ‘til, and I would rather not further anger the madame of the theater any more than necessary.”

“She’s a loony old bat,” came Crowley’s quip. “A few minutes won’t hurt her.”

You took one last look down at yourself - at the feathered headband in your grip; the exposed tops of your legs and the plump ‘V’ of your upper thighs that led to their apex just covered by the elastic; the heels that glittered in the dim light; the curves of your breasts, just barely held in place by the haltered neckline of the costume. You looked ridiculous.

With a long, deep breath you felt in your sternum, you placed a hand on the edge of the changing screen. “Don’t you boys poke your fun at me,” you warned them. “I know how I look, I don’t need you both reminding me.”

You pulled back the screen and stepped out, avoiding their eyes as you fiddled with the headband. You expected Crowley to bark out bouts of laughter, for Aziraphale to politely cover his mouth and look away to hide the rosiness of his cheeks as he held back a few giggles. But there came none of that. Instead, you were only met with silence. Hesitantly, you glanced up to meet their gazes.

Crowley and Aziraphale, for once in their eternal lives, looked rather lost for words. You didn’t take too many moments to soak in the way the demon tilted down his shades so he could peer those yellow eyes over the rims, nor how the angel’s back had gone stiff and he clutched his magician’s hat to his chest so tightly his knuckles paled. Instead of entertaining their amusement, you scoffed and clicked over to the vanity illuminated with golden bulbs; funny. Almost all the Watson bulbs had been grinded down for the war efforts. You supposed the West End had a bit of advantage in their supply when it came to things like glass and elastic.

“Yes, yes, gape all you want,” you snipped as you leaned forward to examine your reflection in the mirror; Christ almighty, you looked like a common slut. “Neither of you know how humiliating this is.”

At once, your angel jumped into action. “No, dearest,” he said as he came to stand beside you at the vanity, gently discarding his hat on the countertop. “We’re not poking fun at you, not in the slightest. We’re… well, you simply look…”

You eyed him from the corner of your vision.

“Incredibly doable,” came Crowley’s pitch from where he’d spread himself across the old couch tucked against the wall.

Aziraphale sent him a rather stern glance as you felt your chest drop slightly into your belly. You fixed your reflection with another stare. You looked like a prostitute, all your private planes and surfaces on display for everyone who even glanced in your direction. There was hardly a chance they enjoyed seeing their girl pimped up like this; was there?

“What he’s attempting to say,” said your angel as he reached out a soft, well-manicured hand and rested it respectfully on the middle of your back, “is, well… you do look rather ravishing, is all.”

“Oh, stop it, the both of you. You’re being mean.” Shouldering off his touch, you reached for a bit of the lipstick resting against the vanity and tried to stop your hands from trembling as you pulled off the cap and screwed it up. In all honesty, it still flustered you a bit when they showered you in affection; which they did often. How was it possible that an angel and a demon, in love themselves, who had seen the beginning of the earth and all the beautiful men and women in it, had fallen for you, a mortal, a little bit of soul within this planet full of it?

It didn’t quite make sense to you, but in the moments like these, when you felt yourself growing weak against their words, you cast the thought aside and let sense run rampant.

“After all this time, and you still don’t believe us when we say something nice?” clicked Crowley, reaching up to take the brim of his hat and rest it on the arm of the couch. He tilted his head at you in the reflection of the mirror, his gaze just out of sight behind his shades. “Come here.”

You looked to Aziraphale before blinking a few times, smearing your third layer of lipstick across your mouth. “The show will start soon,” you heard yourself say hesitantly. “I have to go out and announce him to the audience before…”

“Come here.”

Your demon’s sudden drop in tone sent a pang of both anxiety and arousal racing through you like fire dancing along your veins. You set down the tube of lipstick, hearing it clatter slightly from the shaking of your hand, and twisted around on your ridiculous heels to face him. He sat there on the couch, legs spread like he owned the world and arms stretched across the back of the seats like he was waiting for his two favorite people to arrive at his sides. He waited chin held high, finger tapping impatiently on the back. Aziraphale said nothing as you trailed from his side and approached the demon; when he spoke like this, it affected the both of you in the same way.

Crowley adjusted his legs when you came to him, allowing you to tentatively straddle his thighs until your hips were flush against his. A look back in the mirror told you your ass was hanging out of your skimpy little get-up, the leotard-like shape doing nothing to protect your modesty. Aziraphale seemed to be enjoying it quite nicely. You felt long, slender fingers touch your chin and guide your vision back to your demon. With his other hand, he reached up and pulled off his shades so that he could meet your gaze, yellow, slitted eyes boring into yours.

“You really ought to start taking our word for things, love,” Crowley said, and you shivered when his voice retained its deep baritone that only saw the light when there were two things at hand; imminent danger, and the promise of depravity. “‘Cause when we say you look good…” He leaned forward until his thin lips were level with the shell of your ear, his breath fanning across your skin. “We bloody well mean it.”

His hips shallowly bucked up into yours then and the rough material of his trousers rubbed at your clit perfectly through the thin elastic of your costume. You were unable to keep a soft, breathy murmur from escaping your lips at the sudden jolt of feeling, your hands flying up to balance yourself on his broad shoulders.

Behind you, you heard Aziraphale take in a small breath at the sight. He nervously shuffled his weight on his feet, glancing to the door that led to the stage. “Crowley,” he said in what should have been a warning, but it was far too soft to be taken seriously. “Now is… now is certainly not a good time for this.”

Crowley pulled another sound from you, this time a moan, when he held your hips in place and bucked again. “Well, it’s like I said,” he replied, tilting his head so he could look up at you as your hair fell into your face and your eyes began to roll back. “A few minutes won’t hurt them.” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. “Besides, our girl’s nervous. Come and lend a hand, calm her a bit. You know how she likes it.”

You felt your face flush with heat from embarrassment, but you were slowly losing your will to care as Crowley leaned down to attach his lips to the base of your throat. His forked tongue laved across your skin like he was trying to memorize your taste, teeth nipping and fingers tightening around your waist. You were hardly able to notice when a second weight dipped the couch beside him, and your demon patted your thigh to get you to move. You knew just what to do; you always did. Feeling yourself beginning to grow slick between your legs, most assuredly ruining the gusset of this ridiculous outfit, you swung your legs over to kneel across both Crowley and Aziraphale’s thighs, which were pressed together where they sat so close not an inch of light could have separated them.

Aziraphale’s warm hand reached out to gently cup your chin, his thumb brushing lovingly across your jaw. “Forgive our earlier stutter, my darling,” he said, then leaned forward to press his plump lips to the point where your clavicle dipped. “I assume by now you know the effect you have on us.” He kissed you again, this time upon your bare shoulder. “Especially when you present yourself in such an outfit.”

Just a sigh escaped your lips, Crowley’s finger ran along your side, pulling a short yip from your throat that he quickly swallowed by fitting his mouth over yours. From there, they moved like they shared one mind, like they knew you inside and out because, really, they did.

The couch creaked quietly as Crowley dragged your barely-clothed cunt over their thighs, earning them a drawn-out moan like a symphony to their ears, and Aziraphale’s grip came up to hold the back of your neck steady as he pressed kiss after kiss to anywhere he could reach; your throat; your chest; your shoulder; your arm. They moved you about like their own little doll, so familiar and fine tuned with your reactions they knew they would happen before they did. Sparks erupted like flint on stone within the pit of your belly when, eventually, Crowley pulled you forward at a slightly new angle and your clit caught wonderfully upon a hitch in Aziraphale’s trousers. You tilted your head back and released a long moan, barely able to keep yourself up when you were suddenly worked to hit that spot over and over again.

“Ah…!” you mewled as Aziraphale nipped ever so softly at the exposed skin of your shoulder. Your arms trembled as you struggled to keep your hold on their shoulders. “Oh, right there, boys, right there. Keep going, please don’t stop…!”

Crowley’s lips tilted up into a crooked smirk, slitted eyes drinking you in like a forbidden liquor he’d been dying for since he first heard of it. “I hardly think you need to go out there at all, angel,” he said to Aziraphale beside him. “We’ve got our own show right here.”

You worked your hips along with Crowley’s push and pull, offering more and more of your skin to your angel for him to mark and lavish, feeling yourself approach that cliff they so loved to drag you off again and again. You never feared the fall; you knew they would always be waiting to catch you before you hit the bottom.

Small, whimpered noises escaped your throat as you chased your released upon their thighs, your clit rubbing and catching perfectly against their trousers like this was exactly what they were made for. Lips were showering your skin with love and affection. Hands were anchored securely to your waist. You were held so intensely, so beautifully, that it only took a few words from the tip of Crowley’s tongue to send you reeling toward your end.

“Come on and sin for us, love.”

Your orgasm came hard and fast, racking your body with trembles and twitches you couldn’t control, with bursts of color in your vision like fireworks, like guns firing off beside your ears with smoke that would blind you for days. You felt your release stain the fabric of their pants, and it was the last thing you really minded before all but collapsing against the pair. Hands, arms, mouths caught you securely, rubbing along your back, holding you tight, gently kissing along your face. You felt them pull away for just a moment to meet each other for a deep, passionate kiss before returning to smothering you with adoration.

It was an idyllic few seconds, the quiet that came after an explosion of a moment such as that, before there came a sharp, rattling knock against the dressing room door. “Pick up the pace, Mister Fell,” came the voice of the madame of the theater. “We’ve got an audience waiting, and the war’s not getting any better these days!”

You groaned softly, nestling your face into Aziraphale’s neck as he stroked your hair and called in return, “Ah, yes, of course. We’ll be right out!”

You wanted nothing more than to not go up on the damned West End stage, to smile and twist in your glittery costume and tease the soldiers in the audience like you hadn’t just gotten your world rocked within an inch of your life. And yet… everything came to an end. You whimpered again when your angel gently shifted you off of him, placing you temporarily in Crowley’s hold, before getting to his feet and gently snapping his fingers. You felt the dampness across your demon’s thigh fade into nothingness, along with the slick between your legs. Your hair righted itself to its former do, and the smudged lipstick across your mouth was once more perfected. When you lifted your head, however, you noticed Crowley had elected to keep the messy imprint of your lips across the corner of his mouth.

He noticed you looking and gave you a sly, crooked grin. “I like to wear my trophies,” he said before pulling your head close and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Come along now, gorgeous. Don’t want to keep the fans waiting.”

Shakily, you got to your feet, struggling momentarily to stand on your heels. While your heart slowed its racing pulse and the heat gently ebbed from your cheeks, Aziraphale lifted your feathered headband from before and tucked it securely over your hair.

“There’s our darling,” he murmured, smiled softly down at you, then tilted up your chin to press a light, though nonetheless loving kiss upon your swollen lips. “Are you ready?”

You took a breath, straightened yourself out, and nodded your head. “I am now, I think,” you replied.

“Perfect,” said your angel. “Because I’ve got a bullet to catch.”

#good omens #good omens smut #good omens aziraphale #good omens x reader #good omens crowley #good omens fanfiction #good omens x you #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale x you #crowley x you #aziraphale #crowley #crowley smut #Aziraphale smut

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raz-writes-the-thing · 1 year ago

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Sinning With Lust (Good Omens One-Shot)

Aziraphale x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open

Summary: Aziraphale catches you reading a spicy novel.

CW: Aziraphale has bde here

Good Omens Tag List: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“What have we here, then?”

Those five words startled you so badly that it sent your Kindle flying out of your hands and onto the floor.

“Jesus Christ!” You shouted, hand flying to your chest in fright. Your heart beat hard and fast for a few moments before you returned to yourself, hammering dying down.

You’d been reading a rather spicy scene in your novel, and you hadn’t expected to be interrupted quite like that. Particularly so startlingly.

“Oh, come now, that’s not very nice- blaspheming in an Angel’s abode.” Aziraphale tutted at you teasingly, those eyes glinting with mischief. He was good at that. “My house is God’s house, you know.”

“Listen,” you breathed, heartbeat finally returning to normal. “You scared me. I didn’t hear you sneaking up on me.”

“Sneaking?! Well, I resent the accusation, my dear. I assure you I was approaching at my usual pace, gait and noisiness.”

You grunted and made to stand to grab your Kindle, though Aziraphale shushed you and encouraged you back into your spot, insisting that he should get it for you as he was the reason it had been dropped so unceremoniously.

“What were we reading today, dear?” Aziraphale asks, leaning to pick up the tablet and pass it to you.

You’d always thought those scenes in movies where the protagonist had something to hide and the main antagonist, side character or whoever went for it in slow motion was stupid. Turns out it’s pretty accurate.

Your heart beat faster in your chest and you reached for the Kindle to snatch it out of his hands before he could read the page sitting there incriminatingly. You watched as his eyes skimmed a couple of lines and widened comically before settling again after the initial shock. You noted the telltale subtle darkening of his irises and blushed profusely.

“Oh, I see,” he said, voice taking on a slightly lower pitch. You shied away, looking out the window and covering half your face with your palm. This was truly mortifying.

“Been a bit naughty, have we?” Aziraphale asked, putting the Kindle on the side table and standing before you. He brought one hand down to move your own and softly cupped your chin, leading it so that you were now looking up at his heated gaze. You swallowed thickly. “Lust is a sin, you know, my dear.”

You nodded, unable to form words. Your mouth was suddenly dry and you would have given anything for a big glass of water.

“What’s wrong?” Aziraphale’s head cocked to the side. “You’re looking positively scared, little rabbit.”

You breathed out a panicked laugh. Oh, this was- Aziraphale was ticking so many boxes for you right now.

“Reading such filth in my home, dear- In God’s home. Do you think you need to be punished?” Aziraphale’s bottom lip poked out in a mild pout, mocking you. Your eyes flitted between his, and you shook your head no.

“No? Hmm, I’m not sure I agree.”

You lean your cheek into the palm of his hand and Aziraphale practically swoons. You know you’re putting on the charm. It usually has about a fifty per cent success rate, and you’re wondering which way Zira will go with it when he’s suddenly leaning down and pressing a feather-light kiss to your forehead.

“Sweet thing,” he said softly, giving you one of the most loving smiles you’ve ever seen. “My office, ten minutes, hmm? Don’t be late.”

Then he wandered off into the kitchen, leaving you breathless and blinking at the space that your Angel had just been occupying.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you replied to the wall.

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weirdmorefics · 11 months ago

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Hello! May I request a Az x reader (she/her) x Crowley where the reader loves the wind and has long hair (she grew her hair out specifically for this reason) and so to mess with her, Crowley and Az decide to play a prank where Crowley generates strong winds to play with the reader’s hair? Thank you so much and have an ineffable day!

Wind and Ducks

Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley

A/N- Have ineffable day as well!!!

Readers Pronouns- She/Her

Warnings- None

Word Count- 767

Summary- The three of you are spending the day in the park on the same bench you always do and feeding ducks but the wind seems to be following the reader wherever she goes.

"Who has the frozen peas?" Y/n shouts.

"Darling, I think we are out. There is bread where I keep the tea." Aziraphale responds.

Y/n gasps "Have you no decency for life!"

"Pardon," Aziraphale's head whips back to face her.

"Angel, you know bread causes obstructions in ducks," Crowley reminds.

"Sorry darling, I was distracted new shipment of books came in. Couldn't wait to open it," he smiled sheepishly.

"But we neeeed peeeaas," she whines.

"Then peas we shall get," Aziraphale kisses the top of her head.

"Let's get a move on then," Crowley ushers the two of you out of the store.

The door swings open with ease the wind blowing it back. Y/n's hair whips back into her face a small gigle escaping her lips.

"I hope the wind doesn't disturb the ducks, I do love the breeze though," she smiles.

"I am sure the ducks will not care about the wind once they see your smile," Aziraphale grins.

"Oh you big softie," Y/N pushes his shoulder.

The three of them spent way more time in the shop than was needed. Aziraphale looks at sweets, Crowley judges the plants' quality, and Y/n looks for the best peas to please the ducks. As the group exits the wind seems to have picked and Aziraphale and Crowley exchange knowing smiles unbeknownst to Y/n.

Y/n giggles a strand of hair gets tucked between her nose and lip. She turns to Crowley with a big grin, "You like my mustache?" She twirls the end of her hair as if it were a curly mustache on her face.

Crowley rolls his eyes but his smile tells another story. The wind comes in and goes and each time it picks up Aziraphale and Crowley would exchange silent glances. Y/n starts to pick up on these glances as they become more frequent but does not make the correlation.

She turns to face them pointing an excusing finger at them as they make their way to the park, "What are you two up to?"

Crowley raises his hands up in defense, "I have no idea what you are on about darling."

Y/n ignores Crowley and sends her glance to Aziraphale expecting him to be the more likely one to break but he says nothing and shrugs with an innocent smile.

She puts to her eyes and back to the duo, "I've got my eye on you two." She turns back around and continues to make her way to the duck pond.

Crowley and Aziraphale sit on the same bench as always and Y/n sits closer to the water to accommodate the ducks. She hands out the peas delicately and more and more ducks seem to surround her. Crowley looks at the ducks with envy to be treated so kindly by Y/n was a gift what did these birds do to deserve it. As his jealousy gets the best of him the wind picks up the heaviest it has today making the ducks scurry off. Y/n frowns but the wind causes flowers from a nearby bush to land gently in her hair. She stands smiling letting her hair flow more wildly and dancing around. She followed the direction which the flowers came from and picked some more for the boys.

She sat on the bench once she returned and tucked the flowers in the men's hair, "Crowley if you were jealous of the ducks all you had to do was say not make a windstorm."

"I haven't the faintest clue on what you're talking about," Crowley plays coy.

"Aziraphle," She states.

"We just love seeing you so happy when the wind plays with your hair," he smiled sheepishly.

"See love it wasn't out of jealousy it was for joy," Crowley argued.

"Whatever you say," Y/n giggles.

"I am serious Y/n," he says defensively.

"You are fooling no one, Crowley. Even the angel doesn't believe you," She smiled as the angel looked away hiding a smile.

"Come on, let's leave. I am getting quite tired of you two ganging up on me." Crowley ends the conversation leaving Aziraphale and Y/n smiling and chuckling.

"I must say I did enjoy seeing you so happy with the wind today. I am glad it was accompanied by a signature Crowley tantrum," He whispers into her ear.

Y/n smile widens even bigger and she whispers, "Me too."

"Oi, what are you to whispering about over there? It better not be about me! Let's get a move on," Crowley shouts and the giggling pair follow.

#crowly x aziraphale #crowley x aziraphale #aziracrow #aziracrow fic #crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader #good omens x reader #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x you #aziraphale x y/n #crowley x y/n #aziraphale x crowley

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thedemonknownasbilly · 11 months ago

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Howdy! I've got another poly AziraCrow x reader request for you, if you're interested

Ineffable husbands with a non-binary s/o who constantly gets misgendered and deadnamed during the holiday season since they're around family n stuff?

Ik its not malicious and it's out of habit but man, it's not great for dysphoria. Trying to disconnect myself from that so I don't hold it against anyone but. Idk. Sorry for rambling lol.

Sending love 💚

Their Name - Ineffable Husbands x GN!Reader

Boy, oh, boy this hit close to home. So basing a lot of the house descriptions/holiday traditions on my family.

Ineffable Husbands snapping at Reader’s family

He/Him for Aziraphale || She/He/They for Crowley

Great Room - the spare room usually adjacent to the living room, typically where the foyer enters into.

There was a lot you couldn’t tell your family. How your husbands were actually ethereal beings well over six thousand years old, how Aziraphale found a miracle that would help you to live forever alongside them, or how Crowley was the serpent they so often cursed in Sunday Service. But there was one thing you made crystal-fucking-clear, your name and gender identity. You came out as non-binary almost four years ago, telling your family how you wanted them to refer to you in only neutral terms.

You had met Aziraphale and Crowley a year after that, marrying them in secret two years later, just the past spring. Crowley had told you how they used all pronouns, so your favorite pastime was to call him your wife when using he/him pronouns. Aziraphale told you that he preferred he/him but wasn’t opposed to they/them if it was to put a bigot in place. That if he chose to present as a woman again for the first time in thousands of years then he would update such choices. Just a small family the three of you were.

Meeting them had been perfect for your mental health, you weren’t ready to date anyone, and a rainy day led to you stepping into the red and gold bookshop, with plants scattered about, books older than time itself, an angel and a demon running it. And they took you in without a second thought.

“Darling, you seem lost in thought,” Aziraphale broke you from your thoughts, your bottom lip sore from chewing it in stress. “What is it that troubles you?” You looked at him in the rear view mirror, smiling softly as you felt Crowley’s hand on your thigh.

“Just nervous, and feeling bad. I want to tell them about us, all three of us, and yet I’m too scared…” your family wasn’t the most open to anything outside of heteronormative, including polyamory unfortunately, leaving Aziraphale to be the “best friend/co-worker”, he had actually volunteered the title, saying it would look better for Crowley to be your husband since he appeared closer to your age than the white haired Angel did.

“Don’t fret, I know it’s not ideal, but we can pretend for one night.” Aziraphale reassured, his blue eyes seeming brighter despite the dim light in the Bentley.

“We’re here, love.” Crowley said, parking behind your uncle’s familar white SUV. “You two ready?” You looked over to Crowley and nodded, unbuckling and turning back in your seat to give Aziraphale his final kiss of the night.

Immediately you wanted to slink back into the Bentley when you heard a chorus of your deadname being yelled through the house, directing Aziraphale to the dessert table to place the Eccles cake while you set down the ancient wine bottle with the other drinks.

“This is Anthony,” you introduced your husband to your family, he was dressed in their gray button up with his red tie, black blazer and slacks. “And this is our dearest friend Azira.” Aziraphale was done up in his usual outfit except he traded out the faded waistcoat for a newer one.

“What a pity we couldn’t attend the wedding, but I suppose (s)he’s always done things his/her own way.” Your mom said, feigning innocence as your hand tightened on Crowley’s.

“Ah, yes, I suppose that’s what drew me to them. Their fierce determination.” Crowley glared slightly, a faux grin on her lips as they enunciated your pronouns. That was how the night would continue, both Crowley and Aziraphale determinedly trying to correct your family through their own speech.

“That’s it!” Aziraphale was the first to snap, seeing tears in your eyes as he sat across from you at the dining table, luckily the children were eating in the great room, the tv playing football flickered at his outburst. “I have absolutely had it with you lot misgendering them! They told you four years ago that they preferred gender neutral terms and informed you of their very legal name change, what is so hard to accept?”

When your mom went to speak, Crowley interrupted. “Nope, wrong answer there, see it’s not that hard, maybe in the beginning, to adjust, to try. But you lot never tried, did you? Instead our partner here is almost in tears, they were stressed about even coming, but unlike you all, they value you. And yes, I said our partner. Azira is not just a friend, in fact he’s as much their husband as I am.” Crowley rose from her chair and offered you their hand, which you gratefully took, letting him guide you out of the house with Aziraphale following behind you.

“I’m sorry, that was improper and I know that-” Aziraphale stammered out, feeling like he messed up but being cut off when you suddenly hugged him, laughing softly against his shoulder.

“Don’t you dare apologize, did you see their faces? That was so worth it, I have you two, and we’re a big enough family for me.” Aziraphale hugged you back tightly and kissed the side of your head, you felt Crowley press against your back, joining your hug and kissing Aziraphale.

“Happy Christmas, loves.”

“Happy Christmas, dear.”

“Happy Christmas, little devil.”

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denaliwrites · 1 year ago

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Lockdown Blues

Aziraphale x GN!Reader x Crowley

Summary: Remember that time everyone went crazy and made sourdough?

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Enough baked goods to make exactly 8 human stomachs explode.

"Right," a voice said from behind you.

You shrieked, whirling around and brandishing your hairbrush in defense... only to see Crowley standing there, giving you a look caught between amusement and confusion.

"Hgk."

"Fucking hell, Crowley, you can't just randomly appear in people's bedrooms," you said with a sigh. You put your brush down so that you could rub your temples. "I know you're a demon and all, but I didn't think I'd need to explain this."

"You -- oh, shut up," he growled, waving at you dismissively. "It's an emergency. Pack your cat." He paused, thoughtfully. "... And a bag, I s'pose."

"And where do you think I'll be going? The whole continent's closed."

"I'm taking you to the bookshop, where you will be staying until this damned lockdown blows over."

"I -- Crowley, you can't just come here and drag me away to be held hostage in the bookshop."

Crowley sighed, rolling his eyes. "I -- look -- I told you it was an emergency, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but then you just left it there? If you could elaborate, that'd be great.

He sighed again. "It's -- listen -- the angel -- Aziraphale is getting... weird."

You blinked rapidly a few times. "He's... he's what?"

"No time," Crowley said, coming to herd you up. "C'mon. Grab the cat. Grab some essentials. Let's go."

You reluctantly did as you were told, doing your best to pack some clothes, toiletries, a laptop, a fussy cat, and a few other things, all while an antsy demon followed you around urging you to move faster. You had half a mind to be annoyed, but you could tell Crowley was strangely serious about this, and that stopped you.

For the most part, at least.

Finally, you'd gathered everything you needed into three bags plus Ralph's carrier. Crowley, without any prompting, took the two biggest bags into his hands, then held out his elbow for you to take.

With nothing but a rucksack over one shoulder and Ralph's carrier in the opposite hand, you wound your free hand around Crowley's twiggy little arm, and the two of you vanished with a whoosh.

Only to appear, near instantaneously, within the confines of the bookshop.

You took a moment to remind yourself how to breathe before you crouched down and set the cat carrier on the floor. Ralph growled, no doubt a little wigged out from the disorienting mode of travel, but the moment you opened the carrier, he trotted out like nothing had happened.

"Crybaby," you sighed affectionately before pushing yourself back up to a stand. "Okay, where's the angel?"

You were hit rather suddenly with two realizations -- number one, Crowley was gone, and number two, you could smell... well, the best way to describe it was a fully stocked bakery. The scent was overwhelmingly of the general concept of bread, but you could smell sweeter treats as well -- vanilla, cinnamon, cooked fruits, chocolate, and so on.

Well, that didn't really bode particularly well, did it?

You hesitantly made your way up the stairs in the back and into the flat, wandering until you found the kitchen. Crowley was there, standing against the wall with Ralph held gently in his arms. How either of them had managed to get up here without you noticing, you didn't know.

At the stove, simmering what smelled like what would eventually be blackcurrant jam, stood Aziraphale. He whipped around at the sound of Ralph's hungry meow and jumped when he saw you all standing there, staring at him.

"You weren't kidding," you said, throwing a look over to Crowley. "He really has gone weird."

"I know," Crowley responded. He made a sound at the back of his throat as he nodded his head towards the angel. "That's why we're having this intervention."

"I'm sorry, this what?" Aziraphale yelped. "Please! You're so dramatic, Crowley. Here, dear," he said, turning towards you with a pastry in hand. "Try this?"

You shot another look to Crowley, silently asking permission. He only sighed and rolled his eyes in response, so you shrugged and took a bite. It was...

Well, he'd clearly made it by hand.

He was watching you, and you knew he wanted your opinion, and you knew he wanted it honest, but you'd never had the heart to give him bad news, so you smiled and put a thumb up.

"Oh, good!" he said cheerfully.

When he turned around to return to his jam, you quickly motioned for Crowley to get you some water. He miracled you a glass and handed it over, and you drank it in three long drags.

"Bit heavy on the salt?" he asked quietly, to which you replied with a vigorous nod.

"What was that, dear?" Aziraphale asked.

"Nothing!" you and Crowley both said.

This was ridiculous, you thought. You could tell Aziraphale he was using too much salt. That was easy. Right? Right. You sucked in a deep breath to prepare yourself, and then released it in one big huff.

"Maybe -- erm, maybe, I think, it could use..."

"Yes, dear?" Aziraphale asked, turning to look at you with such loving eyes, so trusting and beautiful.

Fuck.

"Nothing. I was wrong. Sorry. Continue."

He smiled so joyfully as he turned back to his jam.

You chanced a glance at Crowley, who was glaring at you.

"Coward," he hissed.

"I know," you whimpered, burying your face in your hands.

#aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale x you #crowley x you #good omens x reader #good omens fic #good omens fan fiction #michael sheen #david tennant

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