#aziraphale fluff

[shinybearnerd]

"Celestial Ties" - bonus

Part 1.

Part 2.

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

Here's the story bonus. Maybe later I'll update it to be longer and with some angst. Idk. For the moment, tho, enjoy. >:)

Pair: Aziraphale x Gn!reader Words: Genre: Smut +18, some fluff? Story: Some spicy time in the bookshop. ;)

-Engish is not my first language. So I'm sorry if there are any mistakes-

Aziraphale's heart swelled with love as he leaned in, their lips meeting. It was a kiss filled with years of longing, of pent-up emotions finally being released. Their lips moved together in perfect harmony, a dance of love and desire reigniting the flame that had never truly died. As they pulled away, breathless and shaken, Aziraphale cupped Y/n's face tenderly, his thumb wiping away their tears. They looked at each other, connecting their lips immediately after. Deepening it by the second.

Their lips collided in a fervent, desperate kiss. As if trying to make up for all the lost time and missed opportunities. The years of longing and heartache melted away in that moment, replaced by the intensity of their love and desire for each other.

Aziraphale's heart raced, and he felt himself floating on a cloud of euphoria. Y/n's hands found their way to Aziraphale's hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further.

Their bodies pressed against each other, feeling the warmth and familiarity of each other's presence. In that passionate embrace, Aziraphale and Y/n rediscovered each other, exploring each other's lips and savouring the taste that was uniquely their own.

The years apart seemed to vanish as they became lost in each other, their souls rekindling the connection that had never truly faded.

<< We should stop.>> said the angel. They were both catching their breaths while looking at each other. <<Yes… Arden could see us. >>

The angel was right. The human knew that. But after all these years without him…

Y/n leaned in again, softly kissing the angels while untying his bow tie while sitting on his lap. << Exactly. W-We should stop, shouldn't we?>> <<I mean, we are only kissing… at the moment >> They undid the first button of his shirt, starting to kiss and nib his neck. << G-Good heavens, darling…>> the angel moaned softly. Trying so hard to be heard. <<We should- >>

Y/n stopped kissing him to look at his eyes again. They only lasted a few seconds before Aziraphale took their head to resume the kiss. << I mean, sooner or later, he'll know how babies are made…>> Y/n smiled, throwing away their jam on the nearest chair. <<It's not like we didn't do something like this before… >> replied, biting his neck. Aziraphale blushed and chuckled at the memory. << They were my customers, my darling. Here we're talking about scarring our kid for life. <<Y/n, we really should stop. I can't bear the thought of our son witnessing something like this… >>

Y/n's lips brushed against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. << I understand.>> they whispered, their warm breath against his skin sending waves of pleasure through him. <<I'm worried too. I am! …But just this once, let's forget about everything else and be together. <<He's with Crowley, remember? >>

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment. His heart torn between his desires and his responsibilities. But as Y/n's lips found his once more, all rational thoughts were pushed aside, and he surrendered to the magnetic pull of their love.

Their kisses grew more fervent, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. Aziraphale's hands roamed Y/n's body, tracing the curves and contours that had haunted his dreams for years. His touch was both gentle and possessive, conveying his love and longing. Y/n's body responded eagerly, arching into his touch, craving more.

The atmosphere in the room was charged with both desire and nervous laughter. Their connection was undeniable, and the pull between them was magnetic.

As Y/n straddled his lap, their lips found each other again in a searing kiss, their bodies pressed together. Their hands exploring each other with a mix of familiarity and newfound longing.

The room started to be filled with the sound of their shared breaths, the soft murmur of affectionate whispers, and the undeniable passion that had drawn them back together.

Y/n's fingers gently tugged at Aziraphale's bow tie, untying it with practised ease, and then moved to the buttons of his shirt. Their touch was electrifying, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. Aziraphale's breath hitched, and he found himself losing control. Intoxicating desire pulsed through his veins.

Their kisses deepened, becoming more hungry as if trying to make up for all.

The heat between them intensified. Their bodies pressed together in a tangle of limbs and passion. Their breathing grew heavy and erratic, a symphony of desire mingling in the air. Aziraphale's fingers trailed along Y/n's spine, eliciting shivers of pleasure, while their hands roamed over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Aziraphale guided Y/n to his desk. Gently laid them down while their lips never parted.

Slowly they unzipped each other pants and partially freed their torso, leaving kissing and bite sign along the way.

<<You ready?>> said Aziraphale. His voice sounding like a rumble.

Y/n looked at the angel. The way his (now) messy hair was shining against the bookshop light or stuck against his forehead. The way his lips were puffy and red for the kiss. Or how his eyes were looking at them with such love and desire. Not to mention his husky and caring voice… To them, all about this situation was so hot and romantic. So yes. They were definitely ready.

Their bodies melded together, fitting perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. The human could hear Aziraphale murmur something like <<My stars, you're so tight… You feel so good, my love. >>

Their senses were magnified. Every touch sent shockwaves of pleasure through their bodies. The angel's hands explored Y/n's skin while their nails gently grazed his back, leaving a mark of their desire.

The room was filled with the symphony of their muffled moans and whispers, mingling with the sounds of their passionate embrace. Their bodies moved in perfect synchrony, their desires intertwining with the other.

<< I-I can't believe... you persuaded me to do something like this. Oh my...>> he panted, continuing with a gentle yet hard and steady pace. Y/n squeezed one of Aziraphale's shoulders as their other hand tried to cover up the pornographic sound escaping.

The angel knew that he should have said something about decreasing their volume. Or at least slow down. But their moans and huffs made him turn on even more. He picked one of their legs up and put it on his shoulder, slightly increasing his pace as he kissed them. Trying to cover up their moans.

<<You'll be the death of me...! >> panted between kisses. << You're the one... f-fucking me on a desk with our son in the next room. Fuck Zira... like that!>> They covered their mouth again as the angel pushes started to get harder and quickly. He always loved when they called him like that. Especially in times that this. <<And whose fault it is?… Fuck. >>

And that was the final straw for Y/n. Hearing Aziraphale cursing was the hottest thing that could happen during sex.

They immediately took his head and smashed their lips together. The angel moaned against the kiss, making Y/n do the same.

Soon after, they came both as close to each other as possible. Their breaths mixed together while their forehead touched.

Aziraphale parted a bit. Just to be able to look at their eyes. And, as he was fixing their hair away from their eyesight, he whispered: << I missed you so much… You have no idea…>>

[charzard-lord]

Touch Starved: Chapter One (Aziraphale/Reader/Crowley)

Chapter Two

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, crying, comfort, brief and vague mentions of abusive past, language

Pairings: Aziraphale/Crowley, Aziraphale/Reader, Crowley/Reader

Key: ☁️🧸💣☂️

Summary: You were never big on physical affection. You learned at a very young age that it wasn’t safe. But after a particularly rough week, you find yourself craving someone's touch. You go to your good friends, Aziraphale and Crowley, but you don’t know how to breach the subject. Luckily, your angel and demon know you well enough to know that something is wrong, and eventually, they coax it out of you. Fluffy cuddles ensue. 

Moodboard

A/N: I wrote this really quickly, in like under two hours, and didn’t do any proofreading, so if there are mistakes, please let me know!

Of course it has to be raining today. Normally, you’d be thrilled, but after the week you’ve had, it just seems like the sour icing on a moldy cake. And on top of all that, you forgot your umbrella this morning. 

A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you make your way through the crowded London streets. You know you could just call Crowley to come pick you up, but you hated the thought of being a bother (although he and Aziraphale would always insist that you were ‘no such thing’ and they were ‘always happy to help out a friend’). As much as you loved the sentiment, you still couldn’t bring yourself to ask for help. You had a hard time speaking up for yourself and expressing your needs. 

You round a corner and the bookshop comes into view. You let out a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding, excited to finally be able to relax with your two closest friends. As soon as you enter the shop, you feel some of the tension leave your shoulders, the smell of herbal tea and old books immensely comforting and familiar. 

You hear your name being called in curiosity before a head of white hair emerges from the back room. Aziraphale smiles brightly upon seeing your face before his expression turns to one of worry as he takes in the rest of your appearance. 

“My dear, what on earth happened to you?” He rushes over and takes your coat for you, miracling up a towel to help dry you off. 

“Forgot my umbrella,” you reply halfheartedly, taking the towel and swiping it gently over yourself before wringing it in your hair to get some of the moisture out. 

“Well, that I can see. What I meant was what happened?” He enunciates the last word with a look that lets you know he means your emotional state. 

You sigh as you take off your shoes and socks, placing them by the front door. 

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” you walk into the shop and look around, noting some new additions to Aziraphale’s collection. “I could use a shower though. Do you mind?” 

“Of course, dear. You know where the bathroom is, yes?” You nod your head in confirmation and he adds on “there should be fresh towels and a clean pair of clothes on the counter for you,” Uttering a small ‘thank you’, you’re about to make your way upstairs, when a familiar demon enters the shop. 

“Bloody rain. Always comes at the worst times,” Crowley grumbles and you turn to look at him. He is equally as drenched as you and looks just about as miserable. He shakes himself off and then snaps his fingers, suddenly bone dry. You silently envy him for his demonic powers. 

He notices you then, saying your name before gesturing loosely. 

“You too, huh?” He says and you smile wryly, nodding. 

“About to take a shower,” you finish towel drying yourself and sigh deeply. Crowley looks like he wants to say something, but he bites his tongue. You shrug it off and make your way upstairs while Aziraphale promises to have some of your favorite tea ready when you finish. 

The hot water feels amazing, washing away all the tension in your body. You could stay in there for hours, but the prospect of a steaming cup of tea is motivation enough to get you out. 

You dress yourself and brush your teeth before combing through your hair to remove any tangles. You make yourself halfway decent, and once you are satisfied, you make your way back down to the bookshop, cleaner and a lot more relaxed. 

As soon as you enter the room, Aziraphale has a hot cup of tea, as promised. You take it with a small thanks and sip at it. It’s the perfect temperature, as always. Perks of being friends with supernatural entities, you suppose. 

Much to your delighted surprise, it seems your friends have also set up a cozy space for you to warm up. There is a huge pile of blankets and pillows, organized just how you like it. You smile and thank them both, setting your tea on a side table, before jumping into the pile. A pleased giggle escapes your throat and the pair smile affectionately down at you. 

They sit in their respective seats, Aziraphale on his office chair, and Crowley on a couch in the corner. You wrap yourself in the blankets and sip at your tea as Crowley turns the TV on and Aziraphale opens a book. 

“Any preference?” Crowley asks and you shake your head, content to watch whatever he picks. He settles on some light hearted sit-com and you lean back, enjoying the warmth and company. 

A few episodes have played and you start to feel anxious. You were never big on physical affection, Crowley and Aziraphale knew that well. They were always respectful and hardly ever touched you. You liked it that way, for the most part. But there was still a piece of you that craved touch, it was just hard to accept and express because of your past. 

You shift in your seat, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. You want to… cuddle. But you don’t know how to ask. You’ve never initiated physical contact with either of them, and you’re pretty sure you’ve only hugged each of them a total of two times, that being the closest you’d gotten with them physically. 

Would it be weird to ask now? You certainly feel that way. 

Aziraphale seems to sense that something is bothering you and gently calls your name. 

“Is everything alright? You seem… restless,” He sets his book down and takes off his reading glasses, putting his full attention on you. Squirming slightly, you feel heat rise to your cheeks, feeling put on the spot. 

When you don’t answer right away, this also draws Crowley’s attention and you shrink even further into your seat. Part of you wishes to be swallowed by the blankets so you can avoid this whole situation. 

“You can talk to us, you know,” Crowley says softly, turning the volume way down on the TV. An invitation to talk if you want, but no pressure to actually do so if you feel uncomfortable. 

“Uhm…” you start, but find that the words die in your throat. You swallow hard and pull the blankets closer to your face. It feels like you’re on fire, all from the stupid thought of wanting to be held. 

“Oh goodness, you’re flushed! Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” Aziraphale quickly gets up and makes his way over to you. 

“I’m fine,” you mutter, barely audible, but you know that they hear you. 

“Now I think we both know that’s a lie,” Aziraphale’s voice is gentle and you can feel him looking at you with an intense concern. 

“Iwannabeheld,” you say as quickly and quietly as possible, pulling the blankets even further up, trying to hide your embarrassment. 

“I didn’t quite catch that, dear” Aziraphale is so sincere and you feel tears well up in your eyes, shame starting to take over. Touch has always been a scary thing for you, seeing as you learned very quickly that it wasn’t safe. But you were away from those people now. You were safe with Aziraphale and Crowley. You wanted to be safe with them. But you were terrified. 

“Nevermind, it’s nothing,” you say, louder this time, trying to wipe your eyes as subtly as possible. 

“Well clearly it’s something,” Crowley chimes in, moving from his spot on the couch to kneel next to you. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be crying,”

Shit. They noticed.

“Seriously, it’s fine. I just got something in my eye,” you lie, part of you hoping they drop it and the other part wanting them to press it, or just realize what you need. 

“Bullshit,” Crowley says and Aziraphale lightly scolds him for swearing, which he brushes off. You glance over at them and notice that Crowley has taken off his sunglasses. He is regarding you with such an intensity that you have to look away. 

“It’s stupid,” you say finally, trying to keep your voice steady. 

“Nothing you say can be as stupid as when Aziraphale says he’s a magician,” Aziraphale gasps and puts a hand to his chest, clearly offended. 

“I am, though! See?” He reaches behind your ear and pulls a chocolate coin out, which causes a small smile to grace your features. 

“Ah, there’s that smile we love so much,” Crowley says, and you feel yourself flush more at the attention. 

Heaving a deep sigh, you decide to just say it, hoping that getting it off your chest will at least make the weight lift a little. 

“I know this might be weird because I’m not big on this kind of stuff, but it’s been a really rough week, and I trust you guys. You’re my best friends. And I really just need-” you stop yourself, unsure how they’ll react. 

“What do you need, love?” Crowley’s gentle voice is enough to coax you out of your shell and you finally let the words spill. 

“I need to be held,” you curl yourself further into your blanket, afraid that they’ll laugh at you or reject you. 

“Well why didn’t you say so sooner?” Aziraphale says and scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your quivering frame. “Is this alright?” He whispers and you nod, feeling tears start to flow, both out of shame and relief. 

“Oh, love,” Crowley comes to your other side and rubs your back soothingly as you cry. For the first time in your life, you feel so completely and unconditionally loved. 

After a long while, the position you’re in starts to hurt your back so you shift out of their grasp. 

“Too much?” Aziraphale’s voice is laced with concern and you shake your head. 

“No, my back was just starting to hurt. Can we move to the couch?” You admit and they both agree. 

You end up laying your head in Aziraphale’s lap, with your legs over Crowley’s. One pair of soothing hands runs up and down your calves while another gently strokes your hair. The repetitive motions slowly lull you into a deep sleep, and for the first time in months, you feel truly at peace. 

Next >

[hrefna-the-raven]

Good Omens: a drunken kiss

Masterlist

Words: 838 Summary: Aziraphale confesses his love to you :) Warnings: drunkeness, alcohol, but also fluff, this is cute I promise ;)

In the dimly lit corners of the cozy bookshop, a gentle hum of silence settled over the shelves stacked high with ancient tomes. The angel Aziraphale sought solace in the familiar embrace of his beloved books. It was where he could drown out the chaos of the celestial affairs with the whispers of wisdom on his shelves. But tonight was different. The usually composed and innocently cheerful Aziraphale had found himself surrendering to the intoxicating allure of a few fine bottles of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. He sat perched on a weathered chair at the desk, his usually hidden wings now visibly folded neatly behind him and his nifty glasses slightly askew. The soft glow of ceiling lights danced across his face, casting ethereal shadows that mirrored the conflict within his heart, the inner discord of being torn apart by the love he felt for you and his duty as angel to not meddle in the affairs of a mortal without Heaven's approval. It was then, in the midst of his inebriated musings, that the door to his bookshop swung open with a gentle chime of the tiny bell. The sound startled him, causing him to spill a drop of wine onto his desk, missing the ancient book in his hands within an inch, which he quickly miracled away, almost cursing under his breath. In his haze of drunken confusion, he blinked repeatedly until he could make out the silhouette of your delicate figure standing in the doorway. In that moment, time seemed to cease as Aziraphale's heart skipped a beat and he swallowed heavily. The air around him grew thick with anticipation and he felt the goosebumps forming on his pale skin as he drowned in chaotic waves of euphoria. Here, in his own little shop, stood the embodiment of everything he held dear, the object of his secret affections, malicious tongues might claim it was rather secret lust, but he felt ashamed at the thought. He was an angel, he should be virtuous, a protector, a calm bystander, lust was reserved for the likes of Crowley, the demon who grew on him over the last millennia. You entered cautiously, as if sensing the gravity of the moment, approaching the angel slumped in the chair painfully slow. Your eyes met Aziraphale's and a hint of recognition flickered in your gaze. The bookshop, once a paradise of solitude, seemed to shrink in size, morphing into a sanctuary where two souls inexorably converged. Aziraphale's voice, usually so eloquent, suddenly failed him in your presence. He stuttered, trying to find the right words to say but all he could do was to get lost in the drumming of his racing heart. Your eyes crinkled with a gentle understanding, as if you were trying to decipher the tumultuous intoxicated emotions that swirled beneath his crumbling facade. And then, with a gentle smile, you broke the silence.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but", you whispered shyly, "Aziraphale, are you alright?"your voice carrying a hint of concern as you spotted the many empty wine bottles scattered around his desk.

He struggled to form a coherent sentence, his mind tangled amongst the intoxicating blend of love and the sacred wine. In that moment, he made a decision, probably against all divine rules concerning the interaction between angels and humans, fueled by liquid courage and a desire to finally reveal his, cursed but, true feelings.

"Forgive me, my dear," Aziraphale began, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "but I find myself utterly smitten by your presence. Every moment spent in your company feels like, pardon my blunt pun, hellish torture and I cannot bear to keep these emotions hidden any longer. I-I-I love you!"

Your eyes widened at his sudden confession, searching his face for sincerity amidst those drunken words. A hushed silence filled the air, anticipation hanging like a delicate thread between the two of you. Time seemed to stand still as you teetered on the precipice of possibility. And then, unexpectedly, a mischievous smile curved your lips as you walked up to the angel, placing your hands on the armrest, caging him as your face moved up to his, the tip of your nose almost brushing his.

"Oh, my silly lovable angel," you whispered, your voice brimming with affection, "I feel the same but never dared to say anything because, well you know, virtuous angels and such."

A smile played on both your lips as you struggled to contain a giggle. It was an absurd notion, the idea of a pure angel like Aziraphale entangled in the complexities of love. But love always has a way of defying expectations, and in the midst of uncertainty, the spark finally dare to fully ignite between you both. Leaning in closer, you closed the small distance between you. Your lips met in a soft, tender kiss, unlocking a world of emotions you never knew existed. Time seemed to stand still as you experienced the blissful sensation of your first touch, a moment that felt both otherworldly and utterly perfect.

[bowieandqueen11]

Worked Out For The Best / Aziraphale Imagine

Request: YOU WRITE FOR GOOD OMENS !!! If request are open could you write one where the reader is also an angel and after the other angels gang up on aziraphale the reader is there to help him and comfort him. Maybe she lets it slip that she has feelings for him ? Thank you!! I’m sorry if request aren’t open i just got so excited 😭 

I’m sorry this took so long @haleysucks00! <3

Comments are much appreciated!

His smooth skin was oddly juxtaposed to the crispness of his suit.

Tailored to perfection, it was an old suit he had bought at a long gone high end London shop, way back a few centuries ago. He was feeling less than pleased today, but Aziraphale wouldn’t let that get him down. The other angels may be, quite frankly, dreadfully rude and downright nasty, but you, his oldest friend would always brighten his day. His eyes had a look of long yearned for mischief beneath the heavily crinkled corners, ancient traces of laughter. He could never forget, the day the two of you had lounged near the Roman Baths, he never thought he would laugh so hard again. He walked in with an uncharacteristic stoop, yet moved swiftly into the marbled lobby of the restaurant.

He didn’t want to keep you waiting, especially since you had been so kind as to book ahead.

He greeted the maitre d’ that approached him with a vigorous hand shake and the best smile he could muster in his current state, golden locks bouncing, faltering somewhat when the greeter didn’t match his joviality. His smile waned, then came a raucous cheer of delight when he spotted a delectable looking parfait on the table to his right. He nearly scares the daylights out of the young couple digging their spoons into the glass bowl.

‘No, Aziraphale, we’re sitting over here!’

‘But...the parfait, Y/n, it looks delicious!’, he says with a face almost fully aghast.

You only laugh as you grab his hand, pulling him away towards the stone pillars of the balcony.

‘I, uh, I hope you don’t mind. I ordered us wine, thought it might be nice to do go for something a bit fancier for a change. Plus, after the day you’ve had, and with Armageddon coming and all, I think you deserve it.’

~

Viewed in isolation, the balcony could be anywhere with its grey stone floor and velvet clothed tables. But instead it lies less than two feet from one of the busiest roads in the city, adorned with little green bushes around the edges, and two very full angels. Aziraphale sits there motionless for a moment, feeling better for himself with a full stomach and rich conversation, just allowing himself to soak in the ambient classical music that swirled jovially in the background for a few moments, wondering what the words were and drinking in the fragranced air.

He looked down to observe the fork in his hand, the ceramic handle brining a welcome coolness after the heat of the afternoon. It was fashioned by a poetic artisan for sure, the simple cream stem had become a welcome canvas for their floral dreams. He doesn’t see you watching him, wine glass in hand and a frown on your face,The rim of the wine glass was a perfect band of black and white, as if a fragment of starlit sky raced around it.

‘Azi, are you going to tell me what exactly happened now?’

‘Why would I ruin such a splendid afternoon, my dear.’

‘Because someone else has ruined your morning, and I want to figure out what exactly Gabriel is up to so we can stop it. So me, you...and Crowley can stop it.’

He places his spoon down next to his empty plate with a reserved glance at you, his eyes dipped in his characteristic sign that he was afraid of what might happen next. He licks the last bit of cream off the side of the porcelain, before sighing like a slight spring breeze, soft and gentle, almost lost against the drone of the traffic.

‘Well, if you insist, we must have tea first.’

It takes him another full twenty minutes before the tea has been ordered, and he’s satisfied with the two steaming cups he has sipped in your company.

‘Azi, I’m sorry they were so horrible to you. But I’m here for you. You know, I’ve always been here for you and always will be, as long as we stop the end of the world of course, but I have faith in us.’

His eyes shifted to the bottom of his glass as he swallowed thickly, and became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As he blinked, they dripped from his eyelids and slid down his cheeks, and he swipes them away with a rather unconvincing laugh.

‘I know my dear, but you shouldn’t have to be burdened with my problems too. It’s very kind of you, but I can handle them myself.’

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t fallen in love with Aziraphale nearly a thousand years ago. It was hard watching him, knowing him, sometimes. He was too kind, his eyes holding too much love for his own good, his words too gentle, his ability to treat everyone as if they were the most precious thing in the universe. The way he poured over old books with his little reading glasses he refuses to replace, the low rumble in his throat before he begins laughing so hard his belly aches, the little droplets of hot chocolate that lay on his chin during winter nights.

‘But I want to Azi, I want to be there for you.’

He reaches his hand out shyly onto the table, his long coarse fingers lying flat against the top, his telltale sign that he wants to hold your hand when he’s too anxious and too nervous to ask. As you oblige happily, giggling lightly as he lets out a breathless laugh, he feels his heart flutter, his eyes locking onto yours and seeing the galaxies in your swirling pupils. Having you in his life makes him feel like everything’s possible in this world, like he can conquer anything.

‘I don’t know why you’re so good to me, dear.’

‘That’s because I love you, doofus.’

Realising what you had just done, you slap your hand over your mouth, You try to back away quickly, but his grip remains steadfast on your hand, his expression softening.

‘I love you too, Y/n,’ he breathes out, ‘and I must say, this is the best outcome I could have wished for such a subpar day.’

The same giddy smile that was on his face grew on yours. The pair of you leant forward and rest your foreheads together, sharing the tender moment the two of you had deserved for hundreds of years.

Please support me on Kofi!

[coffycoffy]

Today I wrote ‘Aziraphale’ on a balloon because I said "it will reach the sky more easily like this"

but after flying high, it started to go down quickly

So I thought, "Oh it can't leave Earth, it can't leave Crowley."

[rhagfyre]

something so magic about you

Author: queer-omenss

Words: 2.1k

Rating: G (just fluff, really)

Summary: It was a week after the armageddon-that-wasn’t and while Crowley felt more comfortable now, knowing that their respective head offices were leaving them alone (at least for now), he was still terrified of admitting his feelings for Aziraphale, whether that be to the angel or to himself.

basically just some first kiss fluff between everyone’s favorite ineffable idiots husbands !!

Read it on AO3 here

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6:56. Aziraphale was running late. He should have left the bookshop ten minutes ago if he was going to make it to dinner on time. As he locked the door of the shop, he briefly considered using angelic means to get himself there, but he did quite enjoy more human methods of transportation. Stepping up to the curb, the angel hailed a cab and arrived at the Ritz only ten minutes late. He paid and thanked the driver, straightening his jacket and vest before entering the restaurant. As he entered, he spotted Crowley at a circular table not far from where Aziraphale was standing. The demon turned and gave a small wave, and Aziraphale hurried over, feeling a flush creep onto his cheeks. He hoped Crowley wouldn’t notice. 

The angel slid into the seat opposite the demon, straightening his bow tie as he did so. 

“Agh I am so sorry I’m late!” he said, and he seemed rather distressed over it, Crowley noticed.

The demon debated reaching out for Aziraphale’s hand, which was sitting on the table, to comfort him, but changed his mind.

“Don’t worry about it, angel.” he reassured him, giving a small but genuine smile. Aziraphale didn’t look any less concerned. 

“But I’m late, Crowley! I’ve made you wait!” Aziraphale continued, wringing his hands. This time Crowley moved before he could stop himself, reaching out to grasp each of the angel’s hands in his own. To stop him fretting, Crowley told himself. This was definitely the only reason why he did that, and his heart was certainly not beating 1000 beats per minute at the feeling of the warmth from Aziraphale’s hands. 

“Really, angel, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Crowley assured him, giving Aziraphale’s hands a reassuring squeeze before pulling his own away, as if he finally realized what he was doing. He felt heat flush his neck, and hoped the angel wouldn’t see. Crowley forced his heart to stop beating out of his chest, and gave Aziraphale a soft smile.

Aziraphale was somewhat relieved by Crowley’s reassurances, though he was certainly slightly thrown off when the demon had grasped his hands, and, moments later, surprisingly disappointed when he had pulled them away again. There was a moment of silence before either spoke again. 

“Wine?” Crowley asked, picking up the bottle in front of them, old and undoubtedly quite expensive. Aziraphale nodded, holding his glass up so Crowley could pour the deep red liquid into it. Aziraphale swirled it around and took a sip, sighing slightly as he did so. It was a very good wine. He caught Crowley gazing at him. Aziraphale narrowed his eyes.

“What?” he asked. 

Crowley blinked rapidly when he realized he had been staring at the angel and made an effort to appear more nonchalant in the chair. 

“Oh nothing, angel, nothing.” he replied. Oh but it certainly was something, though the angel needn’t know that. It was a week after the armageddon-that-wasn’t and while Crowley felt more comfortable now, knowing that their respective head offices were leaving them alone (at least for now), he was still terrified of admitting his feelings for Aziraphale, whether that be to the angel or to himself. Aziraphale was still looking at him curiously when the waiter came over to take their order. Crowley never ate very much, so Aziraphale ordered some sort of fancy seafood platter for them to share. 

They passed the time waiting for their food to come by discussing Aziraphale’s bookshop. How many customers he had to turn away today, if he considered making it an online shop. When their meal arrived, along with a second bottle of wine, seeing as they’d already finished the first one, the talking ceased as they began to eat. Well, Aziraphale ate. Crowley had approximately one (1) prawn before sliding the rest of the tray over to Aziraphale. The angel frowned but did not protest. He would never turn down extra food. Crowley swirled his wine around in his glass as he leaned back in the chair watching Aziraphale eat. The warm lighting in the restaurant caused the angel’s hair to glow a sort of gold. Crowley could feel the warmth radiating off him. Something inside him made Crowley want to press himself up against the angel to soak up the warmth, and he wasn’t sure if it was just the cold-blooded snake part. The demon sat there, gazing at the angel while he finished the seafood and patted his lips clean with a napkin, looking satisfyingly full. 

“Mmph, absolutely scrumptious.” Aziraphale sighed, patting his stomach. He looked so pleased, so… content. Crowley was glad he was wearing his sunglasses so Aziraphale couldn’t see his expression. It was moments like this, the seemingly normal, domestic things, that made Crowley fall even more in love with Aziraphale. When the angel was carefree, unburdened by the worries of who might be watching, what might happen. It really hit Crowley then, that that was what he had been feeling for thousands of years. Love. Of course he knew it before this moment, at the Ritz. But maybe, just now, when it was just them and no sides, no head offices. No consequences. Maybe now he had let himself feel it in the full, unsuppressed way he had wanted to for so long. And as that realization hit him in the chest like a ton of bricks, he felt himself shakily setting his now empty wine glass onto the table. Aziraphale noticed the slight tremors in Crowley’s usually smooth, fluid motions and frowned, worried. 

“Are you alright, dear?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Crowley nodded. “Yeah just… too much wine, I think.” They hadn’t even finished the second bottle. Aziraphale frowned even deeper, but decided not to pester him further. Not here, not now, not in this public place. He flagged the waiter down and asked for the cheque. When Crowley reached for his wallet, Aziraphale stopped him.

“No, my dear, my treat.” Aziraphale assured him, causing Crowley to slowly replace his wallet into his pocket. 

“Thanks, angel.” he replied, his voice weaker than he meant it to be. Once the bill was paid, the two immortals rose, tucking their chairs back in. As they stepped out into the warm London breeze, Crowley turned left. “Bentley’s this way.” he said by way of explanation, but he was stopped by Aziraphale’s hand on his arm before he could make it more than a few steps.

“You are absolutely not driving in this state,” he admonished gently, still unsure as to what ‘state’ the demon was actually in. “We’ll take a cab.” Aziraphale hesitated, unsure of where they were to take the cab to. Crowley sensed the angel’s uncertainty and provided an answer. 

“The bookshop is good.”

Aziraphale nodded, flagging down a cab and opening the door, waiting for Crowley to slide inside before he followed. The car started moving before Aziraphale could get his seatbelt on, and when the driver took a sharp turn it sent him sliding into Crowley, the demon catching him with gentle arms. 

“Seatbelts, angel. They’re important.” he tisked, his voice tainted with laughter, but made no move to remove his arms from where they were wrapped around the angel, one between Aziraphale’s shoulder and the seat back, and one propping up his other shoulder. Though it was a matter of moments before Aziraphale moved and buckled himself in, it felt like eons. The warmth of the angel had seeped in to Crowley, so warm and so Aziraphale, that when the angel moved away, it was like a blast of cold air hitting Crowley’s skin. He crossed one leg over the other making himself into a tighter tangle of limbs than he was normally seen in. Aziraphale noticed this and frowned. Again. Something was off with his demon. And then he froze. He hadn’t meant to think it. Hadn’t meant to add the possessive article before ‘demon’. Hadn’t meant to… But then maybe he had, subconsciously. In the week following the not-so-end of the world, Aziraphale had let himself think more about his feelings for Crowley. He knew he had some, though for the longest time, hundreds of years at least, he wouldn’t let himself give them much thought. Foolish. What would Upstairs think? But now, with no interference from Upstairs for what he hoped would be a while, he had started giving those feelings some attention. He knew he thought of Crowley as more than a friend. Anyone would, he reasoned, if one were to spend 6000 years with someone. His train of thought was interrupted as the cab came to a halt in front of the bookshop. They hopped out, paid the driver, and slipped into the building, Aziraphale ensuring the ‘CLOSED’ sign was hanging in the window before drawing the blinds. He entered the back room to find Crowey already sprawled out on the couch, his glasses sliding down his nose slightly. 

Determined to figure out what had Crowley so bothered, Aziraphale pulled up a large pouf in front of the couch and sat on it, causing Crowley to sit up and lean against the back of the sofa, facing Aziraphale. Slowly, Aziraphale reached out a hand and tapped softly on the demon’s glasses, his eyebrows raised in question. Crowley nodded slightly, and Aziraphale gently removed the dark glasses from his face. Crowley blinked once, and Aziraphale sat, mesmerized by his eyes for a moment before coughing lightly and placing the glasses on the desk behind him. 

“What is it, angel?” Crowley asked, tilting his head slightly, looking sort of like a confused puppy. Aziraphale hesitated.

“Are- are you alright, Crowley?” he asked, and Crowley could see the genuine concern on the angel’s face.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t be?”

“It’s, well, at dinner, you seemed… seemed sort of.. off?” Aziraphale said nervously, before giving a soft, half-hearted chuckle. “You said you’d had too much wine, but I’ve never seen you get that… shaky after only a bottle and a half.”

Crowley fidgeted slightly, long fingers drawing idle shapes into the couch. 

“Maybe I’m just tired.” he said rather unconvincingly. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, not buying it. “Its… its…” he started, unable to find the right words. “Argh!” he huffed, frustrated, flinging himself up off the couch, pacing off to the side. Aziraphale turned to watch him.

“Take your time, dear, it’s alright.” he said softly.

Crowley laced his fingers together behind his head as he paced, then flung his arms back down.

“It’s… it’s you, angel!” he said, finally, stopping his pacing and coming to stop in front of the angel. He looked away, out the window, into the street that had gone dark. Aziraphale was puzzled.

“Me?” he asked, brow creasing in confusion. Crowley let out an exasperated sound, a mix between a sigh and a shout.

“Yes! You! You, you, you-” Crowley clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides. “You are just, argh, just-” he stopped again, struggling to express his thoughts.

Aziraphale reached out and gently tugged Crowley’s arm, guiding him to sit back down on the sofa in front of him. Aziraphale scooched the pouf closer, till their knees were just brushing. Crowley sank onto the couch, his head in his hands, braced on his knees. Aziraphale leaned forward and laid a hand on the demon’s knees, causing him to raise his head. Their faces were mere inches apart. Crowley took a deep breath, steadying himself. 

“You’re just so… so god- so satan- so someone-damned perfect.” There, he had said it. Well, part of it. Aziraphale blinked, pulling back every so slightly. Crowley grabbed his wrist. 

“I-wha-” he started, dazed by the emotions running through him at that very moment. Had Crowley really just said what he thought he said? Doubt crossed Aziraphale’s mind, and it must have shown on his face, because Crowley slid his hand from Aziraphale’s wrist to his hand, picking up the other one with his other hand as well. 

“Perfect, angel. I-I know that I’m a demon and you’re an angel and that there is no way we could ever-” the rest of his words were cut off by Aziraphale’s mouth covering his. Crowley froze, shocked, thinking Aziraphale would regret what he had done and pull away. But when he didn’t, Crowley relaxed into the kiss, dropping Aziraphale’s hands to gently hold the sides of the angel’s face, caressing his jaw. Aziraphale’s hands found their way to Crowley’s waist and he pulled the demon closer, deepening their kiss. Finally, they broke apart, breathless (though they technically don’t need to breathe).

Then, blue eyes met yellow, a demon told an angel he loved him, and that angel answered with a kiss holding the fire and passion of 6000 years of memories. 

[good-omens-is-life]

“He looks so amazing.” -Crowley

[lokissceptres]

Unusual meeting

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Summary: Loki meets Crowley and they get on better than expected after Aziraphale gets in a pickle (Set where the marvel and good omens universe coexist)

Note: Crowley is soft for Aziraphale don’t @ me, this is inspired by @laizy-boy ‘s art

-

“Oh for heavens sake” Crowley exclaimed before repulsing, “eugh I cant believe I said that”

Aziraphale had gone missing, again. He was probably in need of rescuing. Crowley felt as if the angel couldn’t survive without him. Crowley huffed and ran his hand through his bright red hair and put on his favourite pair of glasses. Using his demonic power he sought out Aziraphales presence.

New york? What in satan’s name was Aziraphale doing in New York.

Grabbing the flask of Holy Water, just incase he needed it, he placed his hand on his globe and within an instant he was in New York. Crowley expected that he’d arrive in a restaurant or book shop but since that was all Aziraphale seemed to like, not that he could blame the angel for being happy. But to Crowley’s suprise he had ended up in the back room of what looked like some odd hideout.

His demonic eyes immediately settled on Aziraphale who was sat on a chair, and then to a very bright glowing blue cube. The Tesseract he believed it was called, one of the infinity stones. Why was Aziraphale here? Then he noticed Aziraphale was infact bound to his chair by some sort of magic.

Aziraphale turned his head around on queue and his face lit up. “Crowley!” he exclaimed smiling softly. “What are you doing here?” he questioned. Crowley walked towards his best friend.

“More like what are you doing here! When I came to get you I expected to be in some fancy tea shop not some creeps basement!”

“Creep you say?” said a deep voice. A tall figure emerged from the shadows with long black hair that was slicked back. Green, black and gold armour shone in the glow of the tesseract. The mans eyes seemed to match the tesseract though there was a hint of insanity. To Crowley his demeanour radiated “big-shot” energy.

“And who the hell are you” Crowley declared rather sassily.

“Don’t be so rude Crowley” Aziraphale scolded, “he’s Loki, God of mischief”

Crowley scowled, “Hold on, I thought the only god was the almighty”

“You mortals are so gullible” Loki said smiling. Crowley immediately took off his glasses revealing his sharp yellow eyes.

“I’m far from mortal” he hissed before saying softly to Aziraphale , “wait hold on, angel, is he the reason why you’re here”

“Well...” Aziraphale began but was quickly cut off by Loki.

“Yes I brought him here, he seemed like a good test subject” Loki said rather boredly.

“Test subject... test subject!? Loki, God of clowns or whatever you are, Aziraphale is an angel. Nothing you do will work on him”

“You’re right, my mind control didn’t work on him but he’s rather good entertainment”

Within an instant Crowley had Loki against the wall, holding him firmly by the collar, clearly enraged. Loki smiled dauntingly back at him. Aziraphale chuckled at this. Crowley glared at Aziraphale, letting go of Loki who seemed unfazed.

“Are you his pet or something why aren’t you trying to get out!?”

“Oh come on Crowley, you know I could if I wanted to, I’m just having fun” The angel replied optimistically.

“Right” Crowley said in annoyance, releasing Aziraphales bounds. “Come on angel, I’ll take you for lunch”

“Can we take Loki?” Aziraphale said rather excitedly.

“No!” Both Crowley and Loki hissed. Loki glared at Crowley.

“I don’t like you God of clowns” Crowley snarled at Loki

“God of Mischief. Take your angel, filth, and leave.” Loki declared.

“Right whatever, come here angel” Crowley said grabbing Aziraphale by the arm. “Good day to you good sir” Crowley said sarcastically before vanishing with Aziraphale.