Hoi could I possibly request a Crowley x Male reader were Crowley really Insecure about showing his eyes to the reader with some angst and fluff
Lovely
Pairing: Crowley x Male!Reader
Warnings: None really, unless you count some suggestive stuff. Also damn makes an appearance quite a bit.
A/N: So I’m absolutely in love with Crowley’s eyes, but I’ve always been appreciative of cats and snakes eyes and my attraction to Crowley probs says something about me. THIS GOT AWAY FROM ME IM SORRY I LOVED THIS… Enjoy.
You had a thing for eyes.
I mean a thing.
So it was understandable why Crowley never showing his eyes irked you. You firmly believed you could tell who a person was by the look in their eyes. You once met a man, and had fortunately never seen him again, with the most beautiful blue eyes, but what was in them had scared you. Terrified you. The beautiful blue eyes had held utter contempt and disgust, a belief of superiority and complete greed. You didn’t know how to explain why the look you saw in them had you spooked so much except comparing it to that of the look every man or woman who had ever wanted death by their hands.
It was considered a gift by your friends over the years. The ability to tell exactly who a person is by just a glimpse into their eyes.
It had honestly saved you quite a few times throughout your life.
You had once stopped a bully just by pointing out to her that everyone had problems, and if she was having issues, talking to someone would help.
As it stood, when you met Aziraphale you were completely and utterly overwhelmed. When you had looked into his eyes you felt everything. All the nerve endings in your body, from your toes to your scalp lit up with the utmost feeling of love cherish adoration. You could see galaxies, supernovas, oceans all tumbling within the bright blue locked with your own. You made friends with the creature in front of you. Right in the middle of the bookstore you had happened upon.
You didn’t regret it.
(Later, you would find out you met Aziraphale five years before the apocalypse. This wouldn’t come to matter at all, however timelines are so important to certain humans.)
You didn’t meet Crowley until two years, down to the day, later.
Eyes hidden behind wrap around sunglasses, in the damn near dead of night who does that, swaggering in on long lean legs, hot damn, narrow hips, uh oh, slim chest, this is not good, broad shoulders, will not end well you know it, strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, you could cut yourself, fiery red hair, you’re doomed.
The man had strolled in and, completely ignoring you and your stuck gaze, pulled Aziraphale into the back room. You were curious that this man, one you hadn’t seen in the two years coming and partly working at the bookstore (library more like), knew Aziraphale and where the damn back room was.
You didn’t formally meet him, or more accurately learn his name, until a week later.
He stormed in, doors banging behind him.
“Excuse me. Can I help you?” You almost regretted standing in the hell path this man was paving.
The man glared at you from behind the dark glasses, again with the glasses.
“Tell Aziraphale he needs to answer his damn phone.”
You sputtered, “I’m sorry? He’s out at the moment, I can take a message for you though?”
“It’s Crowley. Just tell him,” he, Crowley, looked away, “tell him I need a miracle.”
You stared at him with lidded eyes, “A miracle? That’s what you want me to tell Azi? Alright. Whatever.”
He glanced back at you, or you assumed he did since you couldn’t tell much about his eyes, bared his teeth, “Azi? You call him Azi? Never mind, doesn’t matter, you just tell him to call me, yeah?”
He turned and stormed back out, leaving you to watch his long legs in the painted on jeans and you needed to stop thinking about that there are people around.
You did indeed tell Azi to call Crowley. Didn’t hear anything about that miracle though.
The next few years came and went, the apocalypse was kick started, subsequently stopped, and everything went on.
Including the damn sunglasses.
You were proud to say that both Aziraphale and Crowley had become close enough to you to share their true heritage, although you had always suspected Azi of being other. You knew you were able to choose friends well, admittedly due to your supposed gift. However, when Crowley had told you of his being a demon he still hadn’t shown you his eyes.
And it drove you nuts.
You had told Azi of your feelings for the demon, the angel giggling hysterically.
All you could do was give him an incredulous look.
This all led to the here and now, with Crowley looking at you from his spot on the blanket covered grass. He’d asked you to come with him out on a sort of picnic, not out in the open, more secluded with a soft covering of thick trees shading you from a for once glaring sun.
He looked nervous, constantly shifting his sprawl of long limbs you just want wrapped around and that is not a thought to continue you hate tight jeans damnit. You ate and talked, this one of the few times you both had peace and quiet together.
It felt like a date, and you found you quite liked that idea. Maybe a bit too much, especially with the seclusion.
“I, uh, have something to show you.” You startled at the serious tone in his voice.
Cocking your head to the side you gazed at him, “You know, there’s only so many ways I can take that.”
He smirked, “Yes well, that, as long as you don’t go running, can happen later. If you’re amenable.”
You turned on your side, arm bracing, to look at him fully, “I highly doubt anything you show me will change anything.”
Crowley sat up, running his hand through his hair, messing it further.
“Alright well, remember the part about me being a demon?”
“Hard to forget,” your mouth turned up at a corner.
His fingers clenched around each other and, slightly trembling, reached up grasping his glasses and seemingly wrenched them off.
Nothing happened.
“Crow, you have to open your eyes if you want me to see them.”
And when he did, oh when he did, it felt like the ground dropped out from under you.
You thought meeting Aziraphale’s eyes was overwhelming.
His eyes had nothing on Crowley’s.
The golden irises filled you, you felt your heart stutter, your breath catch, and your whole body melted inside.
What you saw in the other man’s, demon get it right but he can’t be a demon no, was what you had been waiting to see for your whole life. Beauty, pain, imagination, love love love so much love for everything and everyone. Hidden behind a wall keeping him from expressing it or believing himself capable of it.
“Oh.”
He had left you quite breathless, with an inability to form words in the face of such a beautiful soul. You felt it in the marrow of your bones, the utter goodness in this supposed demon, a fall not meant for the likes of him, which did not deter him from being so good but instead let him grow and take in everything the world had to offer, from the bitter pain to the absolute pleasure available.
It let him be right.
He turned away, breaking the eye contact, and you collapsed on your back breath whooshing out of your lungs.
You didn’t realize you had closed your eyes until he’s grasping your face, his own in front of you, glasses back on.
You reach up with limp hands, pawing off the glasses.
“What are you, stop. You don’t want to see them I get-”
You cut him off, “No. I-I want to see don’t you get it, I’ve wanted to see for years now you dimwit.”
He looks at you, shock apparent on his face.
“Yeah, you’re a big idiot,” you huff, “I can see people, through their eyes. I’ve wanted a look since we met.”
He fidgets, making you very aware that he is now on top of you, unmentionables extremely close together stop that thought be serious.
If anything, you saying that makes him more nervous, the fidgeting is going to cause an extremely uncomfortable situation if he does not sit still.
You grasp his face, peering into his lovely eyes, golden yellow, just a hint of green, pupils thin slits.
You feel everything slow again and blink, dispelling the feeling.
Whatever he sees in your face, your eyes must calm him as he finally stops moving in your lap.
He blinks.
You blink.
He giggles, “You like them?”
You feel your face soften, “Yes darling, I like them. Very much so.”
Crowley seems to come aware to how exactly he is positioned. His hands on your chest, bracing himself, thighs spread around your stomach.
He blinks very slowly.
Cheeks turning red he ducks his head down, looking at you through his lashes, “You really like them?”
“Sweetheart, in a second you’ll be able to feel how much I like them unless you pop off me.”
Mouth forming an ‘o’ he squirms. You chuckle, stilling him with your hands on his face, “Later.”
He softens, eyes gazing at you unfiltered as he slowly comes to rest his head on your chest under your chin.
You both lay there for a time, feeling the warm breeze caress your hair, each others heartbeats bumping against the others. You lay there, content that you finally found a man who will show you the world, one he gladly loves for all its faults and favors.
(The damn sunglasses though, you were pretty sure you developed a Pavlovian response to them coming off.)
