#crowley x angel!reader good omens

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Crowley X Reader: To love and be loved

This is purely self indulgente

Warnings: fluff, heartbreak, happy ending

Word count:1,8K

He’s not used to this feeling. He knows what it is, well at least he thinks he does, but he’s still not accustomed to it. 

Love is weird. 

Crowley had always thought that and this situation just seemed to prove it. He loved Aziraphale. It had taken him eons to admit it to himself but he knew it was true. But as much as he loved Aziraphale he also loved you. A demon in love with an angel and a human. It’s funny how life works. He still hadn’t told you how he felt. His heart was still recovering from Azi’s rejection. But despite the heartbreak he knew you’d be much more open to his  love than Aziraphale had been. You’d stuck around, after all. Which was more than he could say for the Angel. Crowley could still feel the warmth of your body as you stood beside him that day as you both watched Aziraphale leave. He missed the feeling of having you near. You’d tried to reach him but he was making it absurdly hard for you. Crowley wanted to be alone and at the same time he wanted someone to hold him. 

Was this how humans felt after a breakup? Odd little creatures. 

It took some time but Crowley finally caved. He drove over to your apartment, parking the Bentley somewhere safe before going to knock at your door. He turned to look at the street as he waited for you to open the door, his eyes catching on the bookshop on the other side. It wasn’t your fault you lived right in front of it. It was why you’d ended up meeting the two of them in the first place. It finally hit Crowley why he’d put this off for so long. As much as he wanted to see you he couldn’t deal with the thought of coming back here and finding the bookshop empty. 

Crowley didn’t hear you unlock the door. He didn’t hear it screech open either. You glanced at the Demons characteristic red locks, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest at the sight. You went to place your hand on Crowley's shoulders, stopping for a moment as you realized just what he was staring at. You moved closer to him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you leaned your head on his shoulder. Crowley moved his head to the side, his nose bumping against your cheek. He closed his eyes, taking in your familiar scent. He loved when you hugged him like this. 

“Long time no see.”

“Sorry about that dove.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now.”

Crowley hummed against your skin as you gave a kiss to his shoulder blade, despite his coat he felt the pressure of your lips against his skin. You were always so affectionate with him. It had taken him a while to get used to it but now he couldn’t see himself living without your caresses.

“Wanna come inside?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll make some coffee.”

Crowley sat on your armchair, his legs slung on top of your coffee table as he watched you move around in the kitchen. You hummed as you worked making the Demon smile. He rose from his seat moving over to your record collection. He skimmed through the vinyls searching for the right one. Once he’d found it he went over to your record player, placing the disc in before turning the machine on. Your head turned to face him as you heard “Good Old-fashioned lover boy” begin to play. You smiled at Crowley, watching as he moved over to you.

“Queen huh?”

“Heard you humming it.”

“Ah I see.”

You placed the rag you had been holding on the counter. Crowley watched you sway your body to the rhythm cautiously for a moment before starting to dance without hesitation. He grinned at you his head bopping to the beat. You stuck your hand out to him walking backwards into the living room.  He gave you a dubious glance, silently asking what you were doing.

“Well, aren’t you going to dance with me?”

“Oh I don't dance.”

“Bullshit.”

Crowley looked at you, his eyes moving over your features sadly. Before the memories could get him down he gave you his hand.

“Oh what the hell.”

You laughed as Crowley spun you around. The two of you moved around the living room, each one dancing in their own weird way. Everyonce in a while you'd bump into each other causing you to have a fit of laughter. Neither of you thought anything of it when your skin grazed the other, you were used to having close contact with each other. And then something changed. You bumped into Crowley for what felt like the hundredth time but this time instead of nudging him with your limps you managed to collide into his body, causing his arms to wrap around you.

“Careful dove.”

“Sorry.”

You raised your head, eyes falling on Crowley's yellow orbs. You hadn't noticed he’d taken off his glasses. Your hand found its way to his cheek, one finger tracinging over the mark near his ear. The Demon stared down at you observing the way your eyelids fluttered lightly as you caressed him, your lips parted in a way that allowed him to feel your breath against his skin. He could feel your heartbeat against his chest, the steady thrum soothing him. You didn’t break eye contact, allowing Crowley's eyes to lure you in. The Demon started to become self conscious causing him to lower his gaze. You called out his name placing a finger under his chin. He raised his head to look at you. He looked so scared. You’d rarely seen him look so uncertain of himself.

“You’re very pretty, you know that?”

You weren’t really sure why you’d said that. It had just come out. Crowley's brows creased as he looked at you. Here you were holding him in your arms in the middle of your living room and telling him he looked pretty. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. He didn’t really know how to react. You moved your head up slightly, eyes shifting back and forth as you inched your face closer to Crowleys. When the Demon didn’t move away from you in anger you decided to go for it. Your lips grazed Crowleys as you laid a gentle kiss to his mouth. You opened your eyes, pulling away. Your gaze fell on Crowley's shocked expression, your own eyes widening as you realized what you’d just done.

“Oh shit. Crowley, I'm so sorry.”

You backed away unlatching yourself from Crowley as you stumbled backwards. You put your hands over your face covering it in embarrassment.

“Fuck.”

Letting out an angry groan you forced yourself to look at Crowley. He still had the same expression plastered on his face. You bit your lip as you tried to formulate the right thing to say. 

“Crowley listen i’m really-”

He was sick of hearing you say sorry. He was sick of the way you avoided his gaze. He needed to feel you again. Needed to have you close to him. With two long strides the Demon had made his way over to you, one of his hands gripping onto your hip as the other wound itself in your hair. Crowley shoved his lips against yours, hungrily devouring the gasp that left your mouth. You clung onto Crowley's jacket in desperation. He kissed you in a bruising manner, hands trying to hold onto whatever of you he could reach. His hands were cold against your skin, something you’d become used to over the years. In your despair you and Crowley had managed to make your way to the other side of the living room. Your ass bumped into the record player causing the needle to scratch against the vinyl in a grating noise. The sound made you and Crowley cover your ears, hands detaching from each other. The Demon let out a frustrated groan moving to lift the needle.

“I’ll get you a new one.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Crowley set the needle back down on the disc in a random spot. A small sigh left the Demon's lips as “Somebody to love” started playing. You noticed the way Crowley's body sagged a bit causing you to frown.

“Crowley here let me change-”

“Listen.”

The Demon's hand held onto your wrist, stopping you from switching the track that was playing. You didn’t understand why he wanted to keep listening to this song. After everything that had happened in the past few weeks you would have thought that a love song was the last thing he would want to hear. Crowley's fingers trailed up your arm making you look at his face. You watched as he observed the way his fingers moved over your skin. He was thinking about something. Really thinking about it. You wondered what exactly could make the line between his brows appear so predominant.  You placed your hand over Crowley’s causing him to look at you. You smiled at the Demon beginning to nod your head to the beat of the song. 

“Find me somebody to love. Come on Crowley sing it with me.”

“Find me somebody to love.”

“There you go.”

You sang the words together. While you sang with your whole heart Crowley sang with a bit more hesitancy. You didn’t hold it against him though. He'd been through a lot. Even if the words were part of lyrics they still held a deeper meaning. You knew that. Maybe that was what made you sing with such passion. Maybe it’s what made you keep your eyes focused on Crowley's face as you sang. Because it meant something. And you wanted him to know that. 

“Can anybody find me somebody to…..love.”

“Already did.”

“Oh Crowley. Azi’s a fool he’s a big-”

“I’m not talking about the Angel.”

Your brows creased in confusion. Crowley loved Aziraphale. You’d known if from the moment you’d laid eyes on them. So if he wasn’t talking about him who could he be-oh oh. Crowley moved closer to you, placing his hand on your chin. You gazed up at him, eyes moving back and forth as your brain struggled to compute what this meant. The Demon leaned his head down slightly. He was going to take it slow this time. Give you time to push him away if that’s what you wanted. He wouldn’t fuck up again. He knew better now. Crowley called out your name. You realized you hadn’t said anything for a while.You cursed yourself for reacting so slowly.  You’d forgotten that Crowley had developed trust issues because of Aziraphale. He wasn’t going to be the one to make the final move. He couldn’t handle another heartbreak so he was leaving it up to you to decide what happened next.

“Crowley…”

The Demon prepared himself to pull away from you. He’d already begun to back away when you let out a breathy whisper.

“I love you too.”

He wasn’t sure he’d heard you correctly. His mind had a way of playing games with him recently. But then your lips were on his and your hands were winding around his neck and he just knew. He knew this was real. You were real. You loved him. And that was more than enough.

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 24!!!

Guess who finally had the time and spoons to write?? ME. I DID.

I promise I'll update as much as I can, but finding time to sit down and write for fun is hard in grad school, folks. It's also on my To Do List to put this whole thing on AO3. Most importantly, I wand you to know that I love this story too much to abandon it.

Okay, that being said, let's do this.

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********************************

Metatron had drawn a number of conclusions while studying the developments in the Book of Life. First of all, he gathered that the book was a ways behind on the transpiring events – given that it had some catching up to do, it seemed. Second, the longer the human remained, the more permanent the new story in the book became. The white tape in the first few pages now being impossible to scratch away, while the alterations were still possible in the pages currently being written. The third, and most important development was the one that had brought him, once again, to Earth. This time, however, he found himself staring at the tall shelves of an institution known as Waterstones.

Although it was much less of a mess than Aziraphale’s bookshop, it was just as crowded. He held back a sigh. Something about this planet seemed to have every being desperate to collect as many blasted things as possible. Movement in his periphery drew his attention, and he saw that a shop employee had appeared to his left, looking confused. Of course the young man was confused, it wasn’t British behaviour to approach customers to ask if they needed help. But when you happen to be The Metatron, things (and people) seemed to anticipate your needs. Indeed, he reflected, The Lord Provides.

“Can I help you find something?” The employee asked. He shifted as he stood, clearly uncomfortable with the interaction.

“Ah, yes,” Metatron replied, “I am, as a matter of fact, looking for a book, and it would seem that I need some assistance in finding it. Might you be able to tell me where I may find a book called...Good Omens?”

“Oh, yeah,” the young man said, “It’s in the Fantasy section, right this way.”

“Fantasy?” Metatron mused, following the employee through the shop to the shelf in question, “How quaint.”

The employee raised an eyebrow as he handed Metatron a copy of the novel. Metatron took it, and flipped through the pages, an amused smile spreading across his face.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” The employee asked uncertainly. He was clearly hoping for the interaction to be over with as soon as possible. Metatron raised an eyebrow, quietly surprised the young man was still there.

“No, thank you,” He said, “I believe I have all that I need.”

He left the shop without paying. No alarms went off, and no one noticed.

*****************************

You may be hyped up on adrenaline right now and a hair’s breadth from screaming just to release some of the pent-up energy running wild through your brain, but Jeremy – the entitled, rich, teenage son-of-God-re-incarnate – is cornered. Anathema and Sardis have cut off his retreat, you and Aziraphale have his front and side options covered, and Crowley stands towering above him.

“Well, well, well,” Crowley drawls with a devilish grin, “It’s been a while, now, hasn’t it?”

You see Jeremy stumble back, watch his eyes flick to the three of you in front of him, then to the side as he realizes there are more people behind him. Thank goodness you spent all that time starting at gifs of Micheal “Acting Choices” Sheen, because you’re able to see the calculating look that flickers behind his gaze. He’s assessing his options. It takes all of a second before he straightens up, folds his arms, and cocks his head to the side.

“How much?” he asks. Clearly, this is not the response that Crowley’s expecting, because you can see the demon’s face scrunch. He exhales loudly.

“Oh well, gotta be at least,” Crowley glances back to Aziraphale with a shrug “At least...what would you say...’bout...two thousand years, give or take...” Aziraphale shrugs back, and Crowley returns his attention to the teen. Anathema smacks her forehead with her hand.

“What??” Jeremy asks. He’s looking at Crowley and Aziraphale like they came from outer space. Well, he wouldn’t technically be wrong. “I meant money, dumbass.”

“Whoa,” You say, “Uncalled for, kid.”

Well, you all did just chase a child through alleyways and commit at least three traffic violations in the process so….okay, maybe the kid deserves one. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“You chased and cornered a child,” Jeremy replies, arms still crossed, “I could call the police and all of you would be arrested on the spot.”

Dammit, he’s smart.

“Look,” Crowley starts, “We just need you to come with us.”

“Yeah...” Jeremy drawls, “I don’t think so.”

“Listen here!” Crowley’s voice is getting louder. He’s not shouting just yet, but he’s on the verge of it. Jeremy sees an opening.

“What? Are you gonna make me?” The teen is almost laughing. He’s not trying too hard to hold back his giggles as Crowley’s face grows red with anger. Aziraphale takes a step forward, placing a hand on Crowley’s shoulder. It keeps him cool – barely.

“We need you to come with us because we need your help saving the world,” Aziraphale says calmly.

Oh no, he thinks he can be reasonable with a rich, entitled, teenager. Now the kid actually starts laughing.

“Wow,” You say, looking at Crowley and Aziraphale, “You two are really bad at this.”

“You are welcome to try if you like,” Aziraphale says through gritted teeth. Oh crap. Well, you walked right into that one. You clear your throat – may as well give it a shot.

“Listen, kid,” You say. Jeremy forces his laughing into submission and looks at you like he’s waiting for the punchline to a joke. “For real, these two here are magical beings okay?”

“Pffffff, right. So am I. It’s called Being Rich.”

“No, but they can do miracles. Like actual miracles!”

“Yeah, me too. It’s called Being Rich.”

Okay, so it turns out you're not any better at this than Crowley and Aziraphale are.

Not that you thought this was going to be easy, but you realize that this is still going to be a LOT harder than you thought. And you really don’t think time is on your side.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

I'm gonna set the poll duration to 3 days this time. Give people a chance to see that I've updated (and remember I exist ^_^" )

Beginning || Previous || Next

[justalittlehoneybee]

Me, as they drag me away to the loony bin: GOOD OMENS BUT IMAGINE IF THEY HAD A LITTLE HUMAN CHARACTER TO JOIN CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE!! Give me a character who represents humanity and earth to counter Crowley and Aziraphale’s divinity. You can not tell me that if they threw in a teenage girl who is so human and imperfect and odd that it would make THE PERFECT TRIO OF ALL THREE REALMS (heaven, hell, and earth)!!

Even things like color palette in the show could be used to show this-

Crowley: red and black

Aziraphale: blue and white

Human: Green (earthy) and grey (mix between good AND bad)

She could add so much DEPTH and COMPLEXITY to the ideas of the divinity and humanity in the show PLUS IT WOULD GIVE US CHAOTIC ANGEL DAD AND DEMON DAD WITH THEIR WEIRD LITTLE ADOPTED HUMAN KID

‘THE INEFFABLE TRIO’ okay goodbye

[raz-writes-the-thing]

how about one where the reader is a great singer, but feels shy and Crowley encourages her?

Love your work! <3

Hi my pretty,

Here's some HCs bc I have, like, 15 reqs for singing related things and I cannot possibly write them all and write them all different haha

Angel!Crowley x GN!Reader

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

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

Angel!Crowley is obsessed with your singing. It genuinely makes them sad to know that you're shy about singing.

The first time they heard you singing, she was absolutely enraptured. He'd almost knocked a bookshelf over to find where the music was coming from.

If they notice you're singing, they're always deathly quiet because it's such a treat when you're feeling confident enough to sing.

Sometimes she will pull just a little miracle to put one of his favourite songs on the queue in the hopes that she might get to hear you sing even just a few lines.

When you find out that they've been doing this, you're a bit embarrassed at first, but Crowley is so genuine in her adoration for you that you forgive her with a peck on the cheek (she blushes).

"I mean, I just cannot believe Heaven would let a voice like yours go unnoticed. You could sing for the bosses if you'd like to. Such a beautiful voice, my love."

Crowley always puts music on when you go anywhere so that you have music to vibe to.

"Oh, love, please do sing that one again. It's one of my favourites."

"The acoustics in the shower are quite something, not that you need them, of course."

"My love, I could listen to your voice for eons."

[jophiel-extras]

summary :: sfw alphabet with Angel Crowley. Reader is assumed Angel in these.

warning :: none, fluffy!

note :: don’t think I’ve seen Angel Crowley for an x reader yet, so here you are my beloveds

A = Affection

Crowley (before his sauntering) was one of the more affectionate angels. He didn’t particularly mind being in someone’s personal space and wasn’t quite aware of their possible dislike of it. He was very prone to hanging off any angels he fancied as friends. As hugs weren’t yet a thing back then, Crowley would show his affections in other ways, mainly standing very close to you and having one body part touching you. Spending quality time with you was another big factor. Crowley would love to sit and chat with you for some time. Once, you’d almost spent a whole week chatting, unknowing of the length because the concept of time simply wasn’t thought up yet.

B = Best friend

Crowley was such a bright Angel, it wasn’t hard to befriend him because of his outgoing personality and once he considered you a friend it was hard not to be his best friend. Mainly, because most angels wouldn’t be very fond of his “weird,” (as they’d put it) ways, so when he found someone that he got along with, he’d stick to them like glue.

C = Cuddles

If they’d been around during his time as an Angel, I’m sure Crowley would’ve quite enjoyed embracing his fellow ethereals, especially the ones he cared for as close friends. He certainly would’ve been a tight squeezer that would pick you up.

D = Domestic

In terms of “settling down,” for Angel Crowley, that meant sitting with the stars in peace. He wanted more than anything to be upon he stars and fly within nebulas for the rest of his eternal life. Of course, he wanted you to join him, too.

E = Ending

Nothing ever really ends, not when you’re immortal.

F = Fiance(e)

When Crowley got rumoured news of the forever binding law of marriage, he’d wondered first if you’d be up for it, then second if it was reserved for humans only. The answer to that sorely disappointed him.

G = Gentle

Crowley could occasionally get overexcited, but he was an Angel and from that, everything he touched was a generation from the grace of God. He was as gentle as they came.

H = Hugs

Yes! As already established Angel Crowley would’ve loved hugs!

I = I love you

Surprise, surprise, declarations of love weren’t all the rage in heaven way back in the day, though Crowley would save things like that for his special angel, you.

J = Jealousy

Haven? Jealousy? The concept hadn’t even been felt yet by Lucifer!

K = Kisses

Well, someone had to come up with the idea of a “kiss,” and whether it was you first, or Crowley did not compare to how much he loved doing it. Sure, Angels showed affection but none quite like you and Crowley, it was so different in fact that you both preferred to hide it away from the other Angels. The way Crowley kissed you was quite fun, and most times ticklish, inducing laughter and giggles.

L = Little ones

Children weren’t yet a reality, but I’m sure he would’ve loved them, as he did most things.

M = Morning

By the time mornings were established, Crowley was unfortunately sizzling in hell, though I’m sure he would’ve been keen on watching a sunrise with you.

N = Night

The same, but a sunset.

O = Open

Crowley was always quite open about the thoughts that ran through his head, almost too much. Unabashedly he was honest about his love for you, after all embarrassment wasn’t something that existed yet.

P = Patience

He wasn’t one for waiting, but for an immortal, patience is endless (despite how eager he was for the universe to start existing).

Q = Quizzes

Crowley has always had quite a good memory and often picks up little things about you. From the beginning he’s had a keen memory of your interests, attitudes and general way of expressing yourself. He might not verbalise that he know so much about you, but he does.

R = Remember

You had asked Crowley what his favourite planet was at the time of his star-y creating and he’d taken you to Mars. A large orange planet that oddly matched the colour of his hair. At a closer inspection, Crowley remarked at the dullness of it and jested that you should help him create some life forms to liven things up. Dumbfounded by the proposition you quickly said no, to which he pleaded “But you’re so creative! C’mon, let’s spice things up,” and you had caved, leading to a bit of an ecosystem on Mars with water and plants that quickly died out before the humans had found them. Honestly, you still wonder how you weren’t found out.

S = Security

Other than some passive aggressive Angels, there was nothing to protect you from in heaven. All Crowley ever wanted was just to have alone time with you, where you could chat to him about a lifetime of unimportant topics in peace.

T = Try

Crowley would often pull you from your heavenly duties to goof around. If it wasn’t for that, the two of you would’ve barely seen one another. He had always put in the effort to see you and it’s what kept the friendship strong.

U = Ugly

Crowley’s bad habits would usually consist of him either bending or completely breaking the rules. It had gotten you in trouble more than once.

V = Vanity

Vanity only became a problem for Crowley when he began hanging out with the wrong Angels. He was always beautiful of course, but the realisation and indulgence of it was one of his early sins. He’d fallen soon after.

W = Whole

Not if you weren’t there. Crowley feels the loneliness, being so different. Without you and the strong friendship you had, Crowley feels empty.

X = Xtra

Whatever duties you were given during the creation of the universe, Crowley would usually find a way to sneak in, add his own little touch and meddle. It was usually charming, when it didn’t end up with you in trouble.

Y = Yuck

Angel Crowley could never break through to some of the harder Angels like Gabriel or Micheal and had usually found their personalities… distasteful.

Z = Zzz

Practically invented sleeping! After doing so, he beckoned for you to try it but you could never doze off, not with him staring over you like an excited dog.

[angelspathway]

“Breathe..” Crowley x reader

Note: I don’t know, just felt like writing unplanned smut. Enjoy.

She felt like a whore, legs cocked open and tears running down her flushed face. Her stomach felt like it was being filled to the brim, about to be split opened. “Please..” God, her voice was breathless and her throat was raspy from screaming, whimpering. She puts her hands on his shoulders, begging the man to let up. The heavy thrusts were scrambling her brain. “I.. don’t think I can take it..”

“Breathe..” Is all he simply says, holding her hips down and massaging her pelvic bone with his thumbs. She threw her head back, moaning out and panting heavily, squirming. “You can do it…”

She was reeling, head spinning and eyes crossed as drool seeped down the side oof her lips. Her body was rocking, pussy wet and breasts bouncing with every slow, but harsh thrusts. He was ruining her, stealing her away and ruining any other guy she decided to fuck if she ever broke up with him. He would have her running back to him every time, thinking about how well he performed while buried inside of her. It was almost manipulative. He was going to keep her right here, love her and fuck her brains out in the nicest way possible.

Tears were fogging up her vision, grabbing at his hair and digging her manicured nails into the soft locks of her hair. She trying not to scream, not wanting to alert anyone in the neighborhood. She contracted around him, whimpering and struggling to keep eye contact with him. “There’s my pretty girl.. Keep those eyes on me…” his smile was wicked, showing off sharp pearly white teeth. She squirmed around, only to be trapped by his hands on her hips. She wished the other one was here, watching her struggle to take him.

He let off of her hips, pulling her flushed against his body by her thighs, pushing every inch inside of her. She cried out, burying her face into the pillow. He stopped thrusting, rubbing his warm hands on her stomach while holding her there. He shushes her whimpering cries, watching as her toes constrict and her body twitch. “You are doing so well..”, he continued to thrust, causing her to grab onto the sheets, moaning his name in a sinful praise.

Wave after wave crashed over her, making her brain go completely numb. He released the pressure off her stomach, pulling out and painting her thighs in thick spurts. His groans were music to her numbed mind. “You did so well.. I’m proud of you, star..”

His red hair was slightly deflated from his usual fluffy state as he pulled away, shuffling on the bed and pulling her to his body, wrapping her in his warmth. He smelt like fire and ash mixed with sweat, but she didn’t mind the smell. He rubbed her back, kissing her head. “I can’t feel my legs, Crowley..”

“Good.”

[bakerstreethound]

🎻Send me a song 🎻 I’ll analyze it and tell you what fictional it reminds me of and the scenario that comes to my mind.

I know how much you love Sleep Token, I will pick their song 'Alkaline' for you. Have fun. 💙 ~ Bluebellinbakerstreet

I hope you are buckled up for the ride on this one because I adore Sleep Token’s music and will probably not shut up about it for a long time, so I thank you for sending one of their songs for I am chomping at the bit. I hope you enjoy some angst here! There is some softness if you squint.

Heart of Molecules

Contains spoilers for Good Omens Season 2; you have been warned! This is perhaps a love story, but not one you were expecting. Graphic by @firefly-graphics

Every once in a while something changes, and she's changing me. It's too late for me now, I am altered. There is something beneath. 

In short, Alkaline reminds me of a love story between Angel Crowley and the stars and nebulas he created. The absolute joy he radiates at his creations and the wonder and joy on his face are unmatched. He’s so unbelievably poud and happy at his gorgeous conjurings he worked on for who knows how long, before the beginning of time itself!

I’ve said this is a love story (and will continue to say so) this nebula and stars he falls in love with the complexity of the universe, knowing the significance of it that it’s too important to be erradicated. I would go so far as to say Aziraphale and the nebula Crowley created are both loved equally in Crowley’s eyes. 

She's not acid nor alkaline, caught between black and white. Not quite either day or night. She's perfectly misaligned. I'm caught up in her design, and how it connects to mine. I see in a different light the objects of my desire.

Again, it is Angel Crowley’s love letter to the universe he created and this ends up all being in a dream. Then he gets the notion this is the universe beckoning him home (even though he’s now a demon and needing refuge), and when he wakes along some old country road, asleep in his Bentley, and it all crushes back into him everything he lost and he wonders about the possibility of escaping back to his first love, the wonder of the stars, because he finds confort in them, as if it was a fragment of a memory long gone but he can’t pinpoint them. He knows the dream he has is definitely a call back to where he could be welcomed back with open arms, without judgement. 

It was comforting to him, yes and he could nurse what was left of his shattered heart. Which is  a reason the nebula poked at his dream, there’s still a connection to the universe he holds dear and he can’t stop thinking about them, for a creator cannot forget their creation. 

Ooh, let's talk about chemistry, 'Cause I'm dying to melt through to the heart of her molecules, till the particles part like holy water. If anything, she's an undiscovered element. Either born in hell or heaven-sent. Either way I'm into it. 

When he does return to Alpha Centuri the nebula there welcomes him, burning bright, welcoming him into her embrace. His glorious nebula burns brighter than ever, shifting in its form (almost human but not quite), wrapping him in their own sort of embrace, though he doesn’t feel the burn of them or is singed. He offers them a small smile, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. 

 “Gosh,” he holds back a tear, “You’re gorgeous as ever.” 

The nebula swirls around him once again, in a show of excitement, bathing him in a cloakof stars and sunsets he recognizes. Almost akin to Joseph’s coat of many colors, it drapes along his shoulders shimmering and dancing amongst the stars, colors enhanced and forms to him as if it was always meant to be. In a way it was, for the creation had crafted it for their creator when they were no longer an angel, waiting for the day when they would return to return what rightfully belonged to them. 

Not acid nor alkaline, caught between black and white. Not quite either day or night. She's perfectly misaligned. I'm caught up in her design, and how it connects to mine. I see in a different light, the objects of my desire.

Crowley chokes back more tears for this was the more than he thought he deserved. Eons of having his heart broken the almost eternal pining for his angel up above. Perhaps one day they would meet again, but for now, he’s back where he belonged in a universe of his own creation, safe amongst the stars. Here they welcomed him home tenfold. Here he could perhaps find the peace to mend his broken heart. 

******

Ace's 5yr Celebration

[wittyandobsessed]

𝟏𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Crowley x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | none.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓: 1. Confessing in the middle of a stupid fight

𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧

The rain had started falling just as the fight reached its peak. At first, it was only a light drizzle, but within seconds, it turned into a heavy downpour. Fat, cold raindrops pelted the pavement, hitting the ground with sharp little splashes, forming puddles in the cracks of the road. Water streamed down the sides of the buildings, flowing into the gutters, filling the air with the steady sound of dripping and splattering. The streetlights reflected off the wet stone, their glow dim and flickering in the stormy night. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth, wet fabric, and something else—something electric, tense, like the air just before lightning struck.

But neither of you cared about the rain.

You and Crowley stood in the middle of the deserted street, completely soaked. Your clothes clung to your skin, heavy with water, making it impossible to feel warm. Your hair was plastered to your forehead and cheeks, rain dripping into your eyes, but you barely noticed. The only thing that mattered right now was the furious argument that had erupted between you, the words flying back and forth like weapons, sharp and cutting, filled with anger and something deeper—something neither of you wanted to name.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Crowley’s voice was louder than the rain, echoing off the stone walls around you. His sunglasses were askew, barely hanging onto his nose, his yellow eyes exposed, burning with rage. His usual smug expression was gone, replaced by something raw, something furious, something desperate.

“I was thinking I could actually help for once!” you shouted back, throwing your arms out, your voice shaking with frustration. Water dripped from your fingertips, running down your arms in thin, icy trails. “I am not useless, Crowley! I know I’m just a human to you, but I am not fragile! I don’t need you keeping me on the sidelines, treating me like some delicate little doll that will shatter if I so much as step out of line!”

Crowley let out a short, humorless laugh, running a hand through his already drenched hair, making it stand up in wild, chaotic strands. “Not fragile? You nearly got yourself killed!” he roared. “Do you have any idea what would have happened if you had been just a second slower? Just a second! You wouldn’t be standing here arguing with me—you’d be dead, and there’d be nothing I could do about it!”

“I saved Aziraphale!” you snapped back, your chest heaving. “And you! And your whole bloody plan! What was I supposed to do, Crowley? Stand back and do nothing? Watch you two risk everything while I just sit there twiddling my thumbs, pretending I’m fine with it?”

"Oh, here we go again." You rolled your eyes, but there was a sharp edge to your voice, something bitter that had been building for years. "Humans are weak. Humans are temporary. Humans are breakable. Just say it, Crowley. Say what you really mean."

His jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists, nails digging into his palms so hard you were sure he was close to drawing blood. The muscles in his throat worked as he swallowed hard, struggling against whatever storm was raging inside him.

For years, this had been your dance—this endless push and pull, this unbearable tension that neither of you had dared to name. It had always been this way, hadn't it? The arguments that ended too close, your faces inches apart, breathless from anger and something else neither of you dared acknowledge. The moments of silence stretched too long, full of words left unspoken. The fleeting touches, the glances that lingered, the way you had always found each other, no matter how much distance you tried to put between you.

And now, the dam finally broke.

"I can't lose you!" Crowley’s voice was raw, torn from somewhere deep inside him. His hands were shaking now, as if the weight of those words was too much for him to bear. "I can't—damn it, I can't lose you, alright? Because I love you, you bloody idiot!" His voice cracked, just for a second, and it made something inside you splinter. "And if you die—if you—" He stopped abruptly, as if he couldn't even bring himself to say it out loud. He shook his head, breath hitching.

The world around you seemed to freeze.

The rain still fell, soaking into your clothes, dripping from your hair, but it felt distant—like it belonged to some other world, some other moment in time. Right now, there was only you and Crowley, breathing hard, staring at each other like the ground had been ripped from beneath your feet.

"You..." Your voice came out softer than you'd expected, barely more than a whisper. "You love me?"

Crowley let out a shuddering breath and rubbed a hand over his face, as if he was already regretting letting the words slip. "Yeah," he muttered, voice rough, thick with something he couldn't swallow back down. "Yeah, I do."

Something inside you cracked wide open, like a dam finally giving way after years of pressure, after holding back a flood that had always been inevitable. All the anger, all the frustration, all the years of pushing and pulling, of skirting around the truth neither of you had been brave enough to face—it all shattered, crumbling into nothing.

Because the truth was, you loved him.

You had loved him for so long it had settled into your very bones, into the way you looked at him, the way you argued with him, the way you always found your way back to him no matter how hard you tried to stay away. It had lived in the stolen glances, in the way your hands lingered too long when they brushed, in the way your heart clenched whenever he was near, and ached whenever he was gone. It had been there in every fight, in every near-confession, in every moment where words had failed but feelings had screamed in their place.

And suddenly, there was no space left for hesitation, no time left for doubt.

Without thinking, without giving yourself even a second to second-guess, you surged forward, closing the last inches between you. Your hands found his face, fingers pressing against the sharp edges of his jaw, pulling him down with all the force of everything you had held back for too long. And then, you kissed him.

Fiercely. Desperately. Like you had been drowning all this time and he was the only thing that could bring you back to the surface.

For a heartbeat, he froze.

For a single, excruciating second, he stood there, completely still, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was real. As if his mind hadn’t yet caught up with what was happening.

And then, all at once, the tension snapped.

A low, broken sound escaped his lips, something between a groan and a sigh of relief, and suddenly he was kissing you back with just as much force, just as much hunger. His arms wrapped around you so tightly it was as if he was afraid you might slip away if he didn’t hold on. His fingers curled into your clothes, gripping you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

The rain poured down around you, soaking into your skin, seeping into your bones, but neither of you noticed. Neither of you cared.

Finally, when air became necessary, you pulled back just enough to breathe.

Crowley’s forehead pressed against yours, his breath uneven, his hands still gripping you like he was terrified to let go. His eyes, those yellow, burning eyes, flickered over your face like he was trying to memorize every detail, like he was still trying to convince himself this was real.

“You’re a menace,” he muttered, voice rough, exhausted, but lacking any real bite. Instead, there was something else in his tone—something so soft, so raw, that it made your chest ache.

A slow, tired smile tugged at your lips. “You love a menace,” you whispered, your voice quieter now, but no less certain.

He let out a dramatic sigh, tilting his head back slightly as if he was mourning his own fate. “Yeah,” he admitted, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, I do.”

And then, before you could say anything else, before you could even fully take in the weight of those words, he was kissing you again.

Slower this time. Softer. But just as deep, just as consuming. A promise, sealed between your lips.

▸ Everything

@alexxavicry

▸ Good Omens

@alechardyssslut

[imagination-phantom]

Not a drawing today! HOWEVER look at my sweet as pie angel of my eye sweetheart owns my heart tickety booboo ineffable lil MAN!!

My sister got him for me for my birthday on the 10th. We are #BlessedTodayMyFriends!!!!!

[neganwifey25-blog]

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 so good!!

If you still have a request opening, how about prompt number 3 “kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s” with Crowley in his Bentley ^_^ Crowley is magnificent and his Bentley is the sexiest car out there, they both seemed too perfect with this prompt. Thank you for your consideration!

You’re back (Crowley x Reader)

Author’s Notes: Magnificent Crowley and Sexy Bentley come right up! Also, can I just say how much I love this gif specifically? I mean look at this glorious bastard! and yes, I mean both cause I know this is Aziraphale!

Warning: A slight Gorey description, discombobulation and I may have made it angsty.

Prompt: #3 “Kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other person’s”

Crowley was walking through the London streets on his way to his flat. Armageddon had just been prevented by Adam and it was like nothing had happened - everything was back to normal. Well, it seemed that way. But Crowley was still unsettled, not everything was as it was, not after what he saw.

He lost Aziraphale, he lost his Bentley and most concerning, he lost you and he saw it happen. 

~Flashback~

“Angel! Angel, where the bloody hell are you!?”

Crowley screamed as ran through your apartment, literally checking every nook and cranny for you. The demon was frantic, uncharacteristically scared that he lost the angels in his life. Then he heard your desperate scream.

“Crowley!” 

His head shot up to the window only to see you locking blades with another angel. Your longsword being the only thing blocking the blade from slicing your body in two. Your (e/c) eyes, previously panic-filled, were taken over with relief at the sight of the demon through the window. 

Hearing the scream, Crowley’s teeth were clenched as he rushed out the door. “Back away from them, you bastard!” He roared, ready to lunge at the angel, only for the world to be silenced.

It was all in slow motion as the angel smirked, taking advantage of your being distracted. He lifted his blade, shifting the weapon to point downwards. With the removal of the blade, all of your strength that kept the blade at bay was now forcing you towards your assailant as the blade was thrust downwards.

Crowley was forced to take in everything about this moment - The panic on your face, the cracking your splitting skull, the thud of your body on the ground whilst the sword was buried in the dirt to pin the bleeding body to the Earth. That look was frozen upon your eyes as life left your body. 

The corpse on the ground then started to glow a brilliant white before fading. The faintest silhouette was seen leaving it and being hauled upstairs, no matter how the form seemed to struggle. All that was left was the bloody sword as it was ripped from the ground by the angel, who still wore a proud smirk upon his face at having killed one of the traitors.

Crowley’s shoulders shook as rage filled his system, ready to explode in fiery fury. First Aziraphale and now you. Before the angel had a chance to mock the distraught demon, Crowley already grasped your longsword and pierced it through the chest of the bastard. Serpentine yellow eyes bore into the angel’s as the demon then twisted the sword earning a scream.

A second body shared the fate as the first one when the sword was ripped from his chest cavity. 

An impossibly tight grip on the sword’s hilt and furious tears filling the demon’s eyes as left for the closet pub, broken without his best friend and loved one with him.

~Current time~

Crowley looked up to the sky - to the heavens - wondering where you were at this moment. Aziraphale had been lucky to find a body to inhabit when they encountered Adam leading to him getting his body back. But you couldn’t for whatever reason and now Crowley could only assume you were stuck up there… forever. 

Stopping on the block corner, his eyes landed upon his Bentley parked outside his home. Not a scratch on her. But not even his intact Bentley could the gaping hole be filled. Before he could approach the car, he felt that something was off, squinting at the car he noticed someone inside. Suddenly defensive of the car, he marched over to the vehicle only to freeze once he opened the door.

“Get out of my bloody c– (Y/n)?”

There you were in the driver’s seat with a nervous smile on your face.

“Hey, Crow–Mmph!” The seat’s back was pushed down, you along with it as Crowley tackled you onto your back and pressed his lips to yours, desperately as to make sure that it was you that he was holding. 

Your arms locked around his neck as you returned the kiss just as desperately. holding each other so close that you curved into one another like perfect puzzle pieces of the most difficult puzzle in history finally meeting. 

Pulling away from the passionate exchange, you didn’t have the chance to speak let alone smile at him before he attacks your neck, causing you to gasp and cover your mouth to hold in your surprised squeaks. “C..Crowley,” you said wanting him to listen but he was almost too enthralled with his current activity. “Crowley! wait, listen to me!” You resorted to barking to finally get his attention.

“I… I thought you were gone..” Crowley replied as he looked down at you. It broke your heart to see the tears appearing in his eyes, you cupped his face in your hands a touch that leaned into tenderly, holding your wrist to keep the touch. 

“I am back, but…” You broke eye contact, finding it hard to look into his sad eyes. Adam’s reversion had given your body back, but it didn’t restore one divine intervention. 

“What? What is it?” He questioned frantically, his turn to cup your cheek so that you look him in the eyes. His scared eyes stopped you from forming words “I…I-I…” trailing off, you gave up formulating a sentence. The sound of ruffling feathers caused the demon’s eyes to shot up to your wings as they peeked out from your back.

His eyes widened at the sight. Your wings were no longer the glowing white they were for thousands of years, they were pitch black. “Angel…” He whispered as he returned his gaze to your face as the tears filled your eyes. “They… they said… ‘If you’re going be a traitor, might as well join them’”

Crowley nearly hissed in fury at what he was hearing. Like Aziraphale and himself, you were just trying to stop Armageddon from happening, to stop a needless war from happening. Upstairs and Downstairs were so focused on this war that the actual innocent were being punished. 

Sitting up, Crowley pulled you up with him and into his arms, his nose buried in your neck. You sniffled as the tears fell and he just held you tighter with a tenderness no demon should have. 

“Fuck that they think. As long you’re here, that’s all that matters, Angel.”

“I love you, Crowley,” You said finally feeling the freedom to say it after many millennia of restricted love. His grip tightened on you as he whispered against your skin.

“I love too, angel…”

[ghoulie-67-baby]

Softly now - Good Omens

Summary: Your anxiety has been raging all day, one accident at home makes you snap.

Warnings: Anxiety, depression, panic attack, anxiety attack, angst, crying, blood/wound.

Pairing: Ineffable husbands x Human!reader.

Word count: 1,674.

To say today had been challenging was an understatement. Nothing particularly bad had happened. The mix of work and anxiety had me in a spiral, wanting to go home and curl up away from the world. After finishing my shift, I trudged home in the pouring rain, the sound of droplets on my hood keeping me grounded. I knew Crowley wouldn't have had any issue picking me up but it felt like a burden and my head was telling me he'd be annoyed if I asked. So I settled for the walk in the dingy weather.

Dodging puddles, I yanked my coat collar around my throat, shivering as raindrops trickled down my face, leaving tear-like streaks on my cheeks. Luckily the bag containing my laptop and books had been miracled by Aziraphale to stay waterproof and protected by any weather. Despite the calm look on my face, the bustle and noise of the streets had my eyes darting around. My heart thundered in my chest as the bookshop came into view, looking as beautiful as ever. I sped up, gasping as people barged into me in their rush.

With clenched, freezing hands, I shoved open the heavy wooden door and huffed out a sigh, slamming it behind me and locking out the world. My forehead reacted against the hardwood as I flipped the sign to 'closed'. I knew nobody would be in the shop, especially if Aziraphale had anything to do with it.

After a few minutes of unmoving silence, I wandered to the kitchen and flicked on the kettle. A good cup of tea made everything better. There was no sign of the angel or demon as I walked through our home so I settled for one cup. Moving around the familiar space, my mind zoned out and I was set on autopilot.

I jumped out of my head as the sound of shattering filled the room. Shards of delicate, precious china scattered over the floor the beautiful flower pattern ruined. Anger and irritation flooded through me as I glared at the mess. Tears gathered in my eyes as I rushed to clean it, guilt crawling up my spine.

With trembling hands, I gathered some of the shards together to throw them away whilst trying to ignore the feeling rising man my throat.

"Love, let me take that from you." I froze as the Angel's voice floated through the silence. I hadn't even noticed him arrive home. With a quick shake of my head, I walked to the bin to throw them away but flinched as a large shard sliced my palm.

"Oh Y/N, you've cut your hand now." He tutted, reprimanding my stubbornness but I couldn't look at him. Instead, I trudged to the sink, rinsing the gash with a hiss and wrapping it in a towel. A warm hand rested against my icy shoulder as I watched the blood run down the drain.

"Darling, you need to let us help you." Crowley followed not far behind the angel with a disapproving look on his slender face. I watched silently as he unwrapped the bloody towel and grabbed the first aid kit to clean it properly. By this point, Aziraphale had cleaned up the remainder of the cup and droplets of blood from the tiles.

"You should really be more careful Love," The angel stood making hot chocolate, concern painting his face. I nodded silently, biting back a sob as tears filled my eyes. My chest began to heave as the demon bandaged my palm.

Only when a tear splashed on his hand did he realise the streaks on my face and the heads of my breaths as my good hand clutched the countertop, knuckles turning white. I stared straight ahead at his jacket, frustrated with myself. I squeezed my eyes shut, begging the tears to stop but it only worsened as waves of anxiety and guilt crashed over me.

Crowley caught me by my elbows to steady me as the first sobs escaped, swaying as my senses erupted with overstimulation. With ringing ears, I tried to listen as he spoke but words seemed to bleed into each other.

The only clear sound was my wails and whimpers as I tried to breathe, the room closing on me. Embarrassment filled me as I clawed at Crowley's chest, pulling him as close as physically possible so I didn't feel like I was sinking. Slender fingers passed me to chubbier ones as the blur of beige of Aziraphale's jacket came into view.

"Softly now, Love," he whispered into my ear. My breath caught in my throat as I cried into his chest which I had all but fallen into. The hum of his voice vibrated through my body as his fingers traced patterns on my back, the other hand smoothing down my hair. I couldn't help but feel bad for cuddling him when he was warm and soft and I was cold and soaked but he didn't seem to mind.

Warmth flowed over me and I looked down to find myself in Crowley's black sweater and Aziraphale tartan pyjama pants. I hummed thanks to the angel as my sobs died down into silent tears and hiccups. I clenched my fingers into his waistcoat, knees trembling and head pounding with such ferocity that I felt nauseous.

"Now, Love, whatever managed to get you in this state?" His voice was gentle, ringing softly in my ear, the definition of angelic.

"Rough day is all." My voice was exhausted and small as I muttered against his chest.

"Did something happen, Darling?" I shook my head, taking note of the pissed-off tone in his voice. "You know I'll be the first to punish them if you need me to."

"Nothing happened, 'just been a bad day." I drew patterns on his chest. "All day I've had this niggling feeling in my chest and small things have built up and then when the cup smashed it was just the last straw." I trailed off, new tears dripping off my cheeks. "Didn't mean to break it Azira, just lost focus and-" His soft hushing cut me off as his fingers scratched gently at my scalp.

"You don't need to apologise, Love, as long as your okay." The relief that overtook my system was ridiculously strong and deep down I knew he wasn't really fussed about the cup but I needed to hear it. "It's just a cup. It is replaceable whereas you are not." I dismissed the flush on my cheeks as I pulled away from his chest, looking up at him. Sparkling blue eyes stared down at me with a soft smile as I rubbed my thumb over his cheek.

"Why don't we go and get comfortable whilst our angel finishes that drink, Darling?" I nodded, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale's cheek before taking Crowley's hand and following him to the bedroom.

Flinging his sunglasses on the bedside table, he sat on the edge of the bed. Serpent eyes looked up at me expectantly and though I tried to stop it, my bottom lip trembled. His arms stretched open for me and I fell into them with a cry of anguish.

His slender arms wrapped my legs around him so we were chest to chest, hands holding me tightly around him as I cried into his neck. My cry in the kitchen had been one Of pain, panic, anger and frustration at myself and the world. But this one was relief, pent-up emotion and overwhelming gratitude to my two celestials. I let myself into him, neither of us paying mind to my echoing wails or the tears that soaked his collar. Not even the way my cries shook both of our bodies.

Somehow, none of these things annoyed the demon who merely dismissed it for comforting me. Once I settled down, I lay boneless against him, head on his shoulder and body slouching whilst I caught my breath. I shifted my head to look up at him with puffy, tired eyes. My shaking hand rubbed his cheek, thumb grazing his cheekbone as he smiled down at me, letting his eyes flutter shut.

The shuffle of slippers at the door brought us back to reality but I didn't want to shift. Three steaming cups were placed on the nightstand before the bed dipped beside us.

"Feeling any better Darling?" The softness in the demon's voice caught me off guard for a second. I hummed out a yes, not having the energy for a better response, blinking tiredly as the world finally slowed down.

"Let's hop into bed whilst Crowley gets changed, Love." I nodded, crawling off his lap and flopping dramatically in the middle of the bed, beside a pyjama-clad angel. The fresh hot chocolate was placed in my hands once I sat up. I smiled as the heat seeped into my skin, sighing in delight as the sweet liquid ran down my throat. The two chuckled and Crowley climbed in beside me, gulping down his drink, mostly to appease Azira. The heat didn't bother him, it had no effect against hellfire.

A comfortable silence filled the room as we finished our drinks, basking in each other's company for a few moments. Rather quickly my eyes began to feel heavier. The cup was slipped from my grasp as I wiggled down under the covers, Crowley pressed reassuringly against my back.

"Hey Azira," I whispered, tapping his shoulder hesitantly. "Will you read to me?" The uncertainty dissipated immediately when he broke out in a smile and miracled a book with the flourish of his hand.

"It would be my pleasure, Love, do cuddle down and relax." The three of us got comfortable and I held Crowley's hand that draped over my waist as Aziraphale's voice floated to my ears, and the story began.

All three of us knew I wouldn't last long but he still happily read, knowing it would calm me and I might rest properly. And rightfully so, writhing minutes I had drifted off beside my two favourite beings.

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 23!!!

Okay, so yes this took me a while, but it's here :)

Let's do this.

Beginning || Previous || Next

*********************

With a click, the tripod locked into place. Jeremy went behind his recording phone to check the angle one more time. It looked perfect – he would be dead center of the screen as he started his latest masterpiece. He nodded in satisfaction and hit record. He needed to get as much footage as he could before Doug showed up to “bust” him. As much as his viewers loved watching him do this stuff and get away with it, the numbers always jumped whenever he “got caught” and had to get himself out of trouble. Lucky for him he had friends at the police station who were happy to play along for the right price. Doug, specifically, was his most reliable buddy cop. He had like, 3 kids, so he was always happy to have the extra cash. Jeremy was pretty sure he’d taken them to Disney World on it last year. Jeremy’s dad may not have been around all that much, but one thing he’d made sure Jeremy learned early was the power of holding others’ financial stability in the palm of your hand.

Jeremy stepped into the camera’s line of sight, made it look like he was adjusting the angle, then he winked and ran a hand through his hair. Gotta look cool for the camera. Then, he picked up a bottle of spray paint, shook it, and tossed into the air. He missed the catch, but that’s alright, his editor Luca would make it look good in post. Then he started painting. The comments had asked for him to paint something called Trollface. Honestly he’d had to Google it and he thought it was the weirdest thing he’d ever seen, but if it got him views and followers, then sure. He could see the faint chalk lines that his artist Matteo had drawn for him ahead of time. Luca would erase those in post. With another smile at the camera, Jeremy pressed the trigger, and began painting Trollface on the side of the federal office building.

*******************************

Okay, you decide, the time has come. You need to say something.

“Um, hey everyone?” You start as Crowley steers deeper and deeper into the busy streets of LA, “I think the car is a Swiftie.”

Aziraphale sighs and looks at Crowley. “Is this one I want to ask about? I still rather regret asking last time”

“Listen, every song for the last three hours has been Taylor Swift,” You insist, “And the second someone mentions it, the song changes to a different artist, but then it just goes right back!”

Anathema raises an eyebrow at you.

“Don’t give me that look,” You say to her, “You are not someone who should be looking at me like I’m crazy.”

“Maybe it’s just an AI feature,” Sardis suggests, “You know, it sees that there are Taylor Swift songs on our playlist, and Taylor Swift is a pretty big deal right now, so it just gives us more of her songs.”

“No,” You say, “It’s the car, I’m sure of it--” You’re prevented from saying anything else because Crowley slams on the break and leans on the horn. Someone had the audacity to try and cut him off. You have no idea who would try something like that, but you are very sure that they will find themselves regretting it later. To your right, you see Sardis shaking his head. Anathema is swearing under her breath in at least two languages, and Aziraphale is holding on to anything he can get a grip on as though his life depends on it. You, for your part, are trying a bunch of breathing techniques to try and shake off the shock of what just happened. While inhaling and counting on your fingers, you happen to look out the window, and you get the breath knocked out of you for a second time.

“WAIT I THINK I SEE HIM!” You scream, pointing out the window. Crowley slams on the brakes again and swerves in the direction you’re pointing. A corner of your brain is once again comforted to realize that he does actually use his mirrors. Aziraphale shrieks and grabs the overhead handle with both hands. Anathema swears really loudly, but Sardis actually looks where you pointed and becomes rather excitable himself.

“THAT’S HIM! THAT’S HIM!” Sardis yells, confirming your suspicion.

What are the chances, right? Yeah, okay we’ve done this bit before, I’m not gonna harp on it. You get how this goes by now. Suspend your disbelief – we have things to do.

The kid in question – Jeremy – is busily vandalizing the side of an office building. He’s within view of the street, which honestly you find really annoying. Couldn’t he at least have the decency to go around back? No, you figure, probably not. That tik tok seemed to suggest that he wanted to get caught. How on earth were you going to convince him to help save the world?

The car comes to a screeching halt right behind the boy who, weirdly enough, doesn’t seem alarmed by the sound. He doesn’t jump or anything. At least, not until he turns around, then he almost leaps three feet in the air. There’s suddenly surprise and confusion on his face as Crowley cuts the engine and hops out. Aziraphale also scrambles out the door, but you figure that’s probably less about the mission and more about Crowley’s driving.

Jeremy drops his spray paint and runs.

Aziraphale groans. “Must it be running?” He asks no one in particular. There isn’t any time to reply before Sardis goes rushing past the lot of you.

“You coming slowpokes?” He calls over his shoulder.

“No!” Aziraphale answers, “You’re doing quite well on your own! We’ll catch up with you!”

“Speak for yourself!” Anathema huffs at the angel. Then she picks up her skirt and starts running after Sardis, heels and all. You look over your shoulder and see that Crowley and Aziraphale have hopped back in the car. Wait, wait, you’re gonna get left behind. After only a second of indecision, you book it back to the car behind the husbands and you only just manage to get your other foot in the door before the door slams behind you and Crowley takes off at full speed. How does he know where he’s going? You have no idea, but you’re not asking questions. Besides, you’re busy being thrown around the backseat because he took off too fast for you to put on your seatbelt.

“OI! OUTTA THE WAY!!” He yells, full volume, laying on the horn. The traffic bends to his will, as do the lights. There are miraculous spaces for Crowley to weave between cars, every light is green, and he drives through construction zones without any trouble. Once you finally manage to sit back up and click in a seatbelt (it immediately locks tight, which is uncomfortable, but you decide it’s the better of your options), you glance at Aziraphale, whose eyes are shut tight. You vaguely register that the car has started playing Taylor Swift again.

“You okay, Azi?” You call. The seatbelt is constricting you too much to get his full name out. Fortunately he seems MUCH too distracted to notice.

“As long as Crowley doesn’t discorporate us, I’ll be fine,” The angel mutters. The look on his face says otherwise.

“Yeah, Crowley please don’t kill us,” You call to the driver’s seat. From the rearview mirror you can see the smile on his face, and just how yellow his eyes are getting.

“We’ll be FINE,” He says through his devilish smile, as a maniacal laugh rises in his throat. Well, nice to see someone is enjoying themselves.

“Good lord,” Aziraphale mutters. Honestly, you can’t tell if he’s trying to be sassy or if he’s actually praying. Could easily be either.

You close your eyes, and do your best not to throw up.

After what feels like too long, the car finally drifts to a screeching halt. You’re thrown sideways, and find yourself feeling grateful for the hug of the seatbelt – it’s the only thing keeping you from being thrown against the door like a ragdoll. The doors and seatbelt unlock with a click, and your door is thrown open for you. It takes you a second to get your bearings, and as soon as you step out of the car, you see three figures running toward you at full speed. Jeremy, and right behind him, Sardis and Anathema.

Jeremy’s attention is behind him. Clearly he doesn’t expect anyone to have gone around. By the time he looks back, he’s going to fast to stop – and he bumps into Crowley.

“Well well well,” The demon says, towering over the teen, “It’s been a while, now, hasn’t it?”

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

As per usual, feel free to tell me your thoughts and ideas in the comments :)

I'll to my best to keep the updates on some kind of normal-ish schedule.

Beginning || Previous || Next

[chocourse]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 (𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝓃𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝒹𝑜)

➶ poly! ineffable husbands x angel! fem!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ The Egyptians built one of the seven wonders of the world, the Greeks discovered philosophy, but make-up was invented by a desperate angel during the construction of the Tower of Babel, when people spoke the same language and wanted to settle in a city after the great flood. That angel was you. And you really needed the make-up when the first bite happened.

➴ genre: fluff, polyamory, falling in love

: ̗̀➛ warnings: references to christian religion & lore, fashion and make-up lore, love bites/hickeys, mentions of snake poison, corruption i think

⌨ :: 2.2K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ special thanks to @honeytwo for helping me translate this into english, correcting my grammar and other mistakes. thank you for everything! °♡̷•.

⁀➷ a/n: Hi, dears! I am happy that I took the time to publish this story here after Ao3. I wrote it in January when I watched Good Omens and was looking for comfort after bawling my eyes out. Alright, that's all I wanted to say. Go and enjoy your unique history with the ineffable husbands! <3

➳ good omens masterlist

A FAIRLY LONG TIME AGO

As much as possible, you wanted to blend in with the people. You were too attracted by their nature to spend the rest of your time until Armageddon up there, among snow-white washed columns, in empty halls where nothing really interesting happens. You can deliver the reports even if you’re living on Earth and watching the humans work, you reassured yourself.

You've enjoyed watching the mortals ant-like, feverishly at work, creating wonders like the Tower of Babel.

“Upon my word, what a masterly job,” said Aziraphale, when the tower was already very high.

Aziraphale agreed with you about your intentions on earth, and you used to talk about the exciting things people can do and how exciting it will be to learn about their work and future generations.

When you were particularly engrossed in reciting your predictions, and explaining them to each other with sparkling eyes, Crowley would just roll his eyes and do it with relish, as if it was his natural reaction to your enthusiasm. He decided he'd rather be with the two of you instead of in the company of damned souls and stake-ridden demons when there was no one to tempt and lead into sin. It wasn't boring at all, especially with the fairs they held back then, the intoxicating people, the musical instruments, the delicious food. 

His favorite events were the celebrations. When the men working on the tower would take a break from work and gather in town to drink and sing. They fanned his fire, his desire to do something underhanded. Not evil, just something genuinely bad. Like what he did to the apples and Eve at the tree.

He thought deeply about the ways in which he could make others sin. That's when he heard you laugh. You were amazed at what Aziraphale had said. You sipped flushedly into your alcohol jar. You weren't wearing your halo or spreading your wings, but you looked just like an angel. Beautiful, ethereal, uncorrupted, even when you were indulging in human pleasures and getting drunk at an easy pace.

Bingo.

Crowley smiled, his eyes gleaming under his black sunglasses. He headed towards you.

“Did you try everything?” he asked.

“The dates are heavenly ,” Aziraphale agreed, putting another piece in his mouth. “You must try one, Crowley.”

“I will,” the demon promised. “Later. But first, I'm going to taste something that's inviting to my imagination…”

His fingers brushed over your shoulder. His fingertips touched your sensitive skin, then...

“Ow !" you squeaked in surprise as he sank his canines into the exposed skin of your neck. 

When an angel wants to fit in with humans, she can't walk around with a snake-bitten neck like she's fine. So you tried to use a miracle to make it disappear, but as it turns out, miracles don't work on demonic bites, which is kind of unfair, but part of the Incomprehensible Plan, so you had to resort to some other method, without blaming the Almighty for creating the demon bite the way it is.

You used paint to cover it up. It was the first make-up experiment in history. Cleopatra will use your method in dark red, but it will be a long time before then, your injury will heal and heal many times over.

In any case, Crowley grinned as he watched you walk around for weeks, neck covered in paint. He was very pleased with himself, and you often caught him looking at you with his yellow snake eyes, grinning like he was planning to do it again.

When God confused the tongues of men, you were grateful to Him. 

Now, you could send the demon to Hell in countless languages.

IN THE 16TH CENTURY

Garbo.

Garbos everywhere.

Lace, frills, colours, fancy fabrics. You were very fond of the English Renaissance under Queen Elizabeth I. Mainly because of the full turtlenecks, which usually covered your neck magnificently. You could even forgive the low-cut dresses and corsets - although when silk scarves came along, looking back, the wide turtlenecks you once wore would have looked like clown costumes.

It was further satisfying to know that Crowley hated rules by default, let alone about fashion. He really despised the Sumptuary Laws, and cursed that he hadn't invented them, because they were truly demonic. In contrast, Aziraphale, who always put a lot of effort into his appearance, was fine with the expected attire, and always looked elegant with a pleasant smile. 

Sometimes, though, his smile faltered when his turtleneck grazed the bite marks on his neck. You stroked his upper arm sympathetically at such times, and yet: neither of you told Crowley to stop what he was doing on your necks.

You had no problem with early medieval times. The tight, plain dresses were simple and, importantly, the neck was not visible, only the back of the hands and the face, and after marriage, the hair - not that you married, it was just the fashion among married women. On the other hand, the pale ideal of the early Middle Ages, when women had blood drained to make them white as doves, was disappointing. Then came arsenical powders, the cause of many women's deaths. At the time, you were ashamed of inventing make-up, and so women wanted to tamper with their natural beauty with all sorts of talc fads. You have to suffer to be beautiful, they said, and they didn't realize that there was no need for any suffering because they were beautiful from creation.

Your determination was only further strengthened when it was discovered that Elizabeth I died of blood poisoning from using white lead on her face. And you thought the sixteenth century would bring radical changes…

Actually, there has been a radical change, but not in make-up.

Crowley invented the suction mark, which didn't swell up like a snake venom-infused wound and came in a variety of colours depending on how much time Crowley put into creating them. They made him feel like an artist, so he liked to tinker with them. He'd been paying devoted attention to your necks for a very long time, so you're actually used to it, it's become a tradition. 

In fact, you both kind of loved it.

IN THE 19TH CENTURY

The rice powder is made from natural ingredients. We're finally back here, you peacefully acknowledged at every social gathering. Usually you only powdered the back of your neck, but richly. The fashions of the 1800s called for ruffles, corsets, a relatively modest neckline, no turtlenecks or neck-covering. But a thorough, ornate make-up look was something every self-respecting woman had to create, and because you only covered your neck, you were often the victim of gossip.

When Aziraphale opened his bookshop and held a small gathering to celebrate with champagne, snacks and a ball, the ladies whispered a great deal about you, hiding behind their fans. They sized up your clothes, your make-up, yourself. They guessed how much of a goer you must be. It made them angry that even though you don't wear normal makeup, men still seek your company because you're witty and good, not jealous like them.

Crowley was annoyed by the women who belittled you, the men who complimented you, the fact that you had been hiding the fact that you were his for centuries. Just like Aziraphale, only he didn't seem as desperate as you to cover his marks. Although his top hat usually shaded them well, where it was appropriate to remove the headgear, nothing covered them.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley more and more often as if he knew perfectly well what the marks meant, just as he knew that Crowley was a cruel, unrelenting demon and would not say it.

When Crowley asked you to stop covering your neck, he was actually saying it. With his eyes shining mysteriously in the moonlight through the window, when Crowley took off his glasses and all the guests had gone, leaving only the three of you and the empty glasses and the crumbs. 

Tenderness and love. This is what his words would have tasted like if you had eaten them.

It was the same way Aziraphale looked at you when you caught him gazing at you, silent and dreamy, or when you simply spoke to him enthusiastically about something that interested and excited you as people once did when the Tower of Babel was raised, and he listened patiently, as if he had nothing better to do.

When you said all right to Crowley with a smile, that meant you loved him, too. 

Them, too.

NOWADAYS

“Um, are you–” Gabriel furrows his eyebrows and tries to decipher you with a polite smile. “What is this?”

You're wearing the purest white, as befits a visit to Heaven. Obviously Gabriel would not object to that. He wears mostly white, with a faint hint of blue. What he can't make out is the fluffy white scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, right up to your nose. You stand before him like a polar bear with a neck brace. Or an almost completely covered, ethereal mummy. 

Or maybe a spool of toilet paper. 

You pull the material slightly in front of your mouth to answer. 

“I'm cold,” you report with a blush.

“It must be exciting.” Gabriel admits that you've probably spent too much time on Earth, among humans, and its somewhat dulled your angelic senses. He clears his throat. “Well, we can get down to business then, let's not waste each other's precious time.”

You nod. He is absolutely right.

In the empty, snow-white-plastered heavenly hall, a table, a folder and a pen with wings - not a bijou, strictly used for official signatures - appear. Sighing, you take a comfortable seat, and as you take the pen, you give thanks that now women can wear comfortable and practical pants too. 

And, you add with even deeper satisfaction, great scarves.

...

Ignoring the closed sign, you rip open the door and burst into the bookshop.

“Sorry, but we’re closed– Oh, it's you.” Aziraphale smiles a greeting, then notices the upset on your face. “What happened, darling?”

“It was embarrassing to show myself like this in front of Gabriel,” you reply as you begin to unravel the fuzzy covering around your neck.

Aziraphale pats your upper arm piteously, presses a kiss to your temple and promises to bring you a mug of hot chocolate to help you relax.

Long time ago you promised Crowley you wouldn't cover his marks, but when you meet your angelic bosses, it's a different story. If they find out what's between you and him, they'll make hell in heaven. That doesn't impress Crowley, especially not today. Before you left, he had so covered your neck with his special love marks that a simple scarf wouldn't have been enough to cover it. Especially since he's recently returned to biting.

You'll find him on the sofa at the back of the shop. He's got a real proud smile that makes you want to throw a scarf at him. You throw the scarf at him. He catches it easily.

"You little..." you grit your teeth.

“Idiot? Shit? Asshole? The lowest of demons? Bitter of your eternal life?” He's playing with the scarf. He doesn't look up, doesn't admire the colorful patchwork he's created on your neck. Even better. If he would do it, throwing a scarf at him would not be enough.

"Lovely sweet creature," you say in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Bleh.” Crowley scowls. “That's a thousand times worse than you swearing.”

“I know. That's why I do it.” You sit down in the armchair furthest away from him and continue to stare at him harshly.

He sighs.

“My love, you're too beautiful with my marks on your neck. I cannot help it. And every man should know those are mine. Even the angels up there.”

Except Aziraphale. He already knows full well that if the blobs on your skin were to be exhibited as paintings, the artist's name would clearly be Crowley.

And you know what these marks are called these days, and that makes you happy. You ask, a little more lightly, if he knows. Crowley shakes his head.

“Love bites,” you tell him.

“It's only natural that they call it that. I invented it, and for thousands of years you and Aziraphale have been the only ones to get it. What else could it be?” Crowley gets up, comes over to you and squats down in front of you, taking your hand in his. He’s not wearing his sunglasses. His eyes are vivid, the sky glowing yellow behind the black sliver of the moon. "It's not something I give as punishment or temptation. It is exactly what it is called. Humans are smart enough to give it such a good name.”

“Well, well, you're praising the humans.” Aziraphale arrives balancing a tray on the low coffee table next to his open book and a stack of newspapers.

“Have you heard what my creations are called?”

“I don’t think so.”

The demon tells him. The angel blushes and starts passing out mugs. Crowley admires him, then turns to you.

“Will you sit with me?”

Luckily for him, you're not overly resentful. You nod, and you’d be lying if you said you weren't warmed by the sight of his smile and his hand reaching out for yours. You end up on the soft couch, his arm around your shoulders, your hot chocolate in your hand.

And love bites on your neck.

[rareomens]

IT IS TIME! Rare Omens 2025 prompt list is here!

Thank you for your patience!

AO3 Collection: Rare_Omens

Don’t like a prompt? Skip it!

YES, YOU CAN SHARE THIS PROMPT LIST ANYWHERE! Discord servers, subreddits, facebook groups—wherever Good Omens fans are hanging out having a fun time with all the characters we know and love.

Don't see your fave pairings? THAT'S WHAT FEB 28 IS GREAT FOR! Go wild! I long to see your crack ships. Reverse Omens, Good Omens multiverse meetups (like Book Omens + TV Omens), Character x Reader, and Crossovers are ALL welcome on that day as well.

And thank you for 5 years of this. I tend to see about 10 people participating each February, and YOU ALL make me so very happy. It's great to be in this fandom creating with you. YOU'RE the reason we're back again.

SOME BEHIND THE SCENES

This year, I'm trying something a little different than I have in the past. Typically I'd try to space out the prompts in a way that allows repeated characters (minus Crowley and Aziraphale) to have a some time between them. But this year I said LET'S DO THE OPPOSITE!

So you'll maybe see some stretches in the month where similar characters have a few of their days to shine. This is a feature not a bug.

Yes, I am looking forward to several days of +Gabriel/Jim/Jimbriel at the end of February, giving you all a nice long lead time on those. :3

And of course, I always look forward to the reason this whole prompt list started FIVE YEARS AGO!!!! My fave crackship—inspired by the Hard Times cold open when a young lance corporal practically eyefucked a demon in the streets of Soho: Crowley + Shadwell. Bring them to meeee!

All right, I hope you have some inspiration for next month. I'll list the full text and daily prompts under the cut. I'll post reminders HERE and possibly Bluesky and Instagram. But I'll reblog from everywhere if you tag @rareomens. That's on tumblr, bluesky, twitter, instagram. But here is the place I'm mostly likely to see and get your lovely creation out to others.

Rare Omens - Feb 2025 Prompt List

A month of fan work prompts starring less common pairings. For Good Omens TV series fans, these are creations NOT centered on the demon Crowley with the angel Aziraphale. Prompts are for all pairing types: friendship, coworkers, enemies, lovers, and more!

Thanks for joining year 5! Tags: #RareOmens #RareOmens2025

FEB 1 - Furfur + Mr. Brown

FEB 2 - Crowley + Mrs. Sandwich

FEB 3 - Beelzebub + Dagon

FEB 4 - Aziraphale + Metatron

FEB 5 - Shax + Furfur

FEB 6 - Crowley + Furfur

FEB 7 - Adam + Warlock

FEB 8 - Aziraphale + Shax

FEB 9 - Muriel + Eric

FEB 10 - Crowley + Beelzebub

FEB 11 - Nina + Maggie

FEB 12 - Aziraphale + Maggie

FEB 13 - Michael + Dagon

FEB 14 - Crowley + Shadwell

FEB 15 - Tracy + Shadwell

FEB 16 - Aziraphale + Tracy

FEB 17 - 3 or more characters

FEB 18 - Crowley + Muriel

FEB 19 - Anathema + Newt

FEB 20 - Aziraphale + Muriel

FEB 21 - Michael + Ligur

FEB 22 - Crowley + Lucifer

FEB 23 - Lucifer + Michael

FEB 24 - Hastur + Ligur

FEB 25 - Beelzebub + Gabriel

FEB 26 - Aziraphale + Gabriel

FEB 27 - Crowley + Gabriel

FEB 28 - Pairing not listed

[angelspathway]

The trainee.

(Not my gif)

Note: this is the first shift from content. I hope you guys like. I kinda threw this together, so it’s short.

Graduating from training was easy enough, but finding a higher power to work under was even harder. She had been searching ever since she graduated from her training, which was more or less 5 hours. Her feet ached and pulsed as the cold concrete ground touched her bare feet, shivers running up her spine. Only being alive for a few days in Heaven made unused to the coldness as she trailed down the endless hallway. She did ask aziraphale, a brief professor of hers in her flight training, if she could possibly be his little apprentice, but he was helping design humans for a new planet, thus being too busy to even train her right now. He did point her in the direction of Heaven's most prized possession, saying they would very much appreciate the help with the creation of Earth;

Raphael, the starmaker.

She just had to find where he worked. Let's see... "follow the light trail to the beam path and you will be able to fly right into the room." aziraphale had explained to the newer angel and then watched as she shuffled away awkwardly. The young angel followed the slater's words carefully and ended up in a light trail that she hoped led to the angel that would accept her assistance.

A wave of a cold and slightly suffocating air smacked her out the beam of light, into a realm of light. She lets out a small whimper, rubbing at her arms. "Raphael!" she called into the empty space, floating around a bit, slightly off balance. The air was thinner and less stable for her to be able to stand on. She took a shaky step, immediately falling. It felt like she was floating, before a hand grabbed her hand in their cold ones. "Gotta use your wings, newbie. There isn't gravity in here." he wore a warm smile as he pulls the angel upwards towards him. "You do know how to use them, right?"

He still wore that warm smile as his cold hands squeezed hers with the intention of reassurance incase the younger angel didn’t know how to produce her wings. Thank the almighty that she did or she might embarrass herself in front of the higher up. She produced her wings, skinnier and smaller then the angel in front of her. "Now, why have you come to visit me in the middle of a workload?" he questioned, his eyes shining brighter then the stars he created. The starmaker was an elder angel, but a kinder one, like aziraphale. He seemed naturally curious and innocent, making him popular among the younger angels. At least, this angel in front of him believed so. She unconsciously messed with the sleeves of the older angel's robe trying to remember why she was here.

"Oh... a job.. I was wondering if I could train under you for experience for my assignments?" her voice was soft and her eyes widen when he gave a quick nod.

"Of course!" he exclaimed, bringing the angel into his side and taking her along. " I do need to show you all the basics, but I would appreciate some help around here!"

So, the younger angel worked under the starmaker, quickly becoming rather close to Raphael. She talked about him all the time with some of her friends. Raphael took her everywhere with him and the trainee followed him like a little pet, obeying his space. She had earned all his respect by the time he disappeared and the galaxy was closed down from any other angel entering it. She remembered being interrogated intensely about her Faith in the Almighty’s great plan and her wings be inspected thoroughly for any impurities. She retained her innocence, worrying for her boss's safety. She was transferred to Aziraphale’s training program, not being promoted with the rest of her friends and having her put under restrictions. The higher ups claimed it was her’s and Heaven's safety, but she has been Aziraphale's trainee for 6,000 years.

She never knew why this happened or where her former boss was currently.

To be honest, it might break the poor angel's heart. Don't cha think?

[bi-bard]

The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted" - Aziraphale & Crowley Imagine [Good Omens]

Title: The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted"

Pairing: Aziraphale & Crowley X Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 2,071 words

Warning(s): headache, mention of break-up

Summary: In which a struggling college student stumbles upon a demon and an angel, who agree to help in any way they can.

Author's Note: to celebrate the announcement of the release date... and give a little comfort to those who are having a rough time in college right now.

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

I had gone to that small bookshop for something to work on a paper.

I had been looking for it online, but nothing was affordable. My best option was going to be to find a small bookshop that didn't charge as much. I simply had my fingers crossed that it would work out.

I must've been walking around with my eyebrows furrowed for a little while because a man walked up to me. He was wearing a beige suit with a-little-too-perfectly white hair. He seemed friendly enough though.

"Can I help you find something," he asked. I paused for a moment. "Sorry, I'm the owner. I can tell you where everything is."

"Oh, okay," I chuckled. I pointed at a part of my paper where my potential sources had been scribbled down. "Um, yes. I'm looking for this... it's for a school paper."

"I see..." he muttered. "Wait here."

I nodded.

I watched him walk behind a set of shelves. There was maybe a minute of waiting before the man walked out again with the book in his hands.

"Oh, you are a lifesaver," I said excitedly. "Thank you! How much?"

He hesitated, staring at the book. As if he grabbed it without thinking about it but now was realizing that he was going to have to part with it.

"How about a deal," he offered after a few moments. "Once you're done with your paper, bring it back here in largely the same condition. No charge and you have no additional clutter to take up space in your home."

I grinned. "Sounds like a deal."

"Well, then, I wish you luck on your paper," he handed me the book

"Thank you," I said. I only took a few steps toward the door before stopping. "I didn't get your name."

He hesitated for a moment before replying, "A.Z. Fell."

"Oh, I thought... Sorry, I assumed this place had been open for a while, so I thought the name on the front was your father or something."

"Afraid not."

"Well, thank you again. I'll see you in a few days."

Which I did.

A few days later, my paper was done, and I walked back into the little bookshop.

"Mr. Fell," I called.

He rounded the corner. "You're back."

"I'm here to return your book," I held up the book as evidence. "Perfect condition."

"Thank you so much," he said as he grabbed it from me. "I hope you get a good grade on that paper of yours."

"Me too," I chuckled. "In all honestly, I don't think I've read it without just a little more of my brain frying."

"Oh no," he mumbled. "I... I could read it over for you. If that would help, of course. I won't force you to give me your paper."

"I... I can't ask you to do that."

"Well, that's precisely why I'm offering," he grinned at me.

I grinned back. "Okay. When would you like me to bring it by?"

"Do you have time now?"

"Um, yeah, sure."

"Here," he led me into a corner of the shop with a small table. "You get your paper put together and I'll make us some tea."

"Okay," I nodded.

As he walked out, I sat down and unzipped my bag, grabbing the binder that held my paper. I also grabbed a red pen just so it was more convenient.

When he came back, he placed a mug in front of me. I grinned and thanked him.

"You can go find a book to enjoy if you'd rather that than watch me read..." he looked at the paper in front of him. "(Y/n)."

"Thank you."

I took his advice. I took the mug of tea and started pacing around the collection of books. I was scanning the spines of the books when the doors of the shop slammed open.

"Angel!"

I jumped at the sound, looking over at whoever had stormed in. Another man, dressed in all black, sunglasses sitting on his face.

"Who are you?"

"(Y/n)," I said. "Who are you?"

"I have told you to not run in here shouting like that," Mr. Fell walked out of the corner that he had been hiding in.

"Who is this," the other man pointed at me.

"I just told you my name," I replied.

"How am I meant to trust you?"

"Why would I lie about my name?"

"Don't know, you tell me-"

"Stop it," Mr. Fell cut him off. "This is (Y/n). I am reading over a paper that they wrote for school."

"Why?"

"Because it's kind," he turned back to me. "(Y/n), this is... Anthony."

"Nice to meet you," I nodded to Anthony.

"Yeah, you too," he muttered, barely paying me any mind as he spoke to Mr. Fell. "We need to talk."

"I am busy-"

"Do I look like I care?"

"I can come back later," I spoke up.

"No, no, please, I promised to read your paper," Mr. Fell stopped me. "Anthony will simply have to wait."

"Excuse me," Anthony snapped.

"You heard me perfectly well," Mr. Fell mumbled. "Please, stay. I'll finish this paper."

Anthony glared at me as Mr. Fell turned around and went back to the table he had been sitting at.

If you had told me that day that the little bookshop was going to become such a place of comfort for me, then I am not sure that I would have believed you.

But it did.

I continued going to that little shop whenever I had the time. I would study, read, or just help with whatever I could help with. Mr. Fell was not a fan of me doing "so much" work around the shop, but I insisted. He had given me a safe space. The least that I could do was help him maintain it.

I grew closer to him as time went on. I even grew closer to Anthony.

Or Crowley, as I soon learned.

I still chuckled from time to time over how they told me their real names. I had been sitting at the table, scribbling notes for one of my courses.

They both stood in front of me silently until I noticed them. I raised an eyebrow at them. That's when they confessed that their names were fake.

When they told me their real names, I felt bad for chuckling. They both looked a bit confused.

"I'm sorry, but... your fake name just used your real name as a last name," I pointed to Crowley and then to Aziraphale. "And yours was your real name with a couple of letters taken out."

"Alright, we get it," Crowley grumbled.

"Thank you for telling me," I added. "I mean it."

"You're welcome," Aziraphale replied. Crowley didn't say the same until Aziraphale looked over at him with a somewhat grumpy look.

The three of us were only closer after that.

It was nice. Having that small support group that I could turn to.

Aziraphale was always ready to help. As soon as I opened the door of the shop, he was ready for whatever assistance I asked for. A hug, an extra set of eyes on an assignment, a quiet place to read a new book.

Crowley acted cold, but I could tell that he cared.

I came in one day with one of the worst headaches I had ever experienced. Aziraphale was gone, but Crowley had been waiting for him. I walked into the building with the heels of my hands pressed into my eyes. After grumpily explaining what was happening, I walked off to put my bag down and hide in the corner.

He waited for a moment before following me.

"Come here," he said.

"What," I asked.

"Come here," he repeated, holding his arms open.

I kept my eyebrows furrowed as I stepped forward. Once I was close enough to him, he grabbed my arm and pulled me forward into a hug.

"Oh," I mumbled before slowly hugging him back. "This is nice."

"Don't call me that."

I chuckled. "I didn't call you nice."

"Oh...," he muttered. "Well... don't get any clever ideas."

"Yeah, sure, whatever you want, Crowley."

I closed my eyes for a minute, holding onto him a little tighter.

I don't know what happened, but I could feel my headache slowly fading away as we hugged. It felt like it was there one minute and gone the next. I let out a sharp breath when it was gone. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of my head.

"Thank you," I said after a while.

"Yeah, whatever."

That may have been the closest I ever got to a you're welcome with him and I was okay with that. For the time being.

I don't know if I truly realized how much Crowley and Aziraphale cared for me until I walked in crying.

I felt like a child. I was crying as I walked down the sidewalk.

When I made it to the shop, I almost sprinted inside.

Aziraphale jumped at the force I used to open the door. Any scolding died as soon as he saw me.

"Oh, dear," he muttered, walking over to me. "What happened to you?"

He pulled me into a hug as I cried. I hid my face in his shoulder, clinging to his suit a bit as I did. I saw Crowley walk out from around the corner.

"What's going on," he asked.

I stepped back. I went to speak but nothing came out.

"Come on," Aziraphale guided me to my normal corner, guiding me to sit down. I dropped my bag on the floor and wiped my eyes. "Take your time."

Crowley sat in the spot next to me while Aziraphale stayed standing.

"There's... There's this guy," I explained. "I... We were seeing each other for a little while. We went on a few dates. I thought... I thought it was going well. And then, he just... changed. And he sent me this."

I tossed my unlocked phone on the table. Aziraphale grabbed it first. I heard a disgusted sound escape him.

"That is just... despicable," he muttered, placing the phone down.

Crowley reached out and grabbed the phone. I saw his face twist in disgust as a reaction.

"I think he sounds like a waste of time," he said as he placed my phone down. "It's stupid to waste an ounce more of your time on him."

"Crowley!" Aziraphale was fast to scold him.

"What?"

"Now is not the time to insult (Y/n) about their relationship!"

"I'm not! I'm only insulting them if they decide to spend any more time on this person. What I did was just an example of bluntness."

Aziraphale gave Crowley a look before turning back to me with a soft grin. "I am going to make you some tea. You just relax. And Crowley..."

Crowley smirked at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Be nice."

"I am not nice."

"Well, maybe now is a good time to try."

Aziraphale turned around and walked away from the pair of us.

There was a pause between the pair of us before I could speak up.

"Do you actually think that I'm stupid for wasting time on this guy," I asked quietly.

Crowley let out a sigh as he sat up a little bit straighter, tilting his head so he was looking me in the eye. "Not as stupid as he was for leaving you."

I felt a grin form on my face. He leaned over and kissed my head before standing up.

"I'm going to get you something a little stronger than tea."

"I don't drink-"

"And I clearly meant chocolate."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Thank you, Crowley."

"You're welcome."

He walked out of the little nook in the corner.

As he did, I leaned my head on my folded arms on the table. I felt my eyes slowly shutting. I felt bad because of what the pair were off doing, but I couldn't help it. It had just been such a long day. I couldn't help it.

As my blinking got slower and slower, I found myself thinking about how lucky I was to be in that situation.

I had never felt as safe as I was when I spent time in that little bookshop.

I would never be able to thank Crowley and Aziraphale for that.

But I would never stop trying to do so.

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