PAIRING. Aziraphale x Crowley x Reader
GENRE. Fluff.
REQUESTED? No.
WORD COUNT. 1.5k
SYNOPSIS. Mornings with your local angel and demon would seem chaotic to most, but to you, nothing could be more soothing.
WARNINGS. Can be read as platonic or romantic.
NOTE. This is my very first Good Omens work. Please bear with me as I am also particularly new to the fandom. Suggestions and corrections are welcomed! You can also send requests through my ask box! <3
The streets of SoHo bustled with busy crowds as you made your way down to the coffee shop. It was still early, only a few minutes past 8 am. You woke in a cheerful mood, excited to spend another day with your two most favorite people.
They weren’t exactly people, but who’s asking?
You push the door to Nina’s coffee shop open, and you’re immediately greeted with the smell of coffee in the air, along with the figure of Nina standing behind the counter.
“Good morning, Nina!” You greet her with a smile, walking towards the counter.
“Morning,” she greets back. She offers a kind smile, but she is busy, drying off some glass mugs by the counter. Nina takes a quick glance at you. “You’re awfully cheerful this morning.”
You give her a shrug. “Woke up feeling like this, I guess.”
“Good for you,” she muses. She places the last dry mug to the side, before turning herself towards you. “What can I get you, then?”
“One black coffee, one flat white, and a serving of Eccles cakes, please,” you quip.
“To go, I’m guessing?” Nina responds with a smirk, inputting your order on her register. The machine dings with the total of your order, and you grab your wallet from your bag to pay.
“You already know it,” you reply with a laugh and hand her a wad of cash.
Nina takes the money. “You’ve been over Mr. Fell’s a lot recently,” she points out. “Almost as much as that Crowley fellow.”
MORE UNDER THE CUT.
“I like it there,” you simply state. “I have nothing much to do at home, anyway.”
“I see,” Nina hands you your change. Her tone of voice shows no judgment, but her face says otherwise. You know she means no harm behind it, so you let it go.
She leaves the counter for a minute and returns with a paper bag and a disposable tray filled with your drinks. You bid her thanks and a goodbye, before grabbing your order and stepping out of the shop.
You cross the street into Aziraphale’s bookshop. The sign at the door says “closed” but you pay it no mind, pushing the door open with your hip and entering the familiar establishment.
“I’m afraid we are still closed,” the man announces into the room, back towards you, as he seems to be busy arranging books by the counter, but once he turns, his face lightens up, immediately delighted to see you. “Ah, it’s you! Come, my dear.”
You give Aziraphale a grin, stepping further into the shop. Aziraphale runs around the counter to help take the items off of your hands, placing the bag on one of his tables, and the drinks by the counter.
“I bought us breakfast,” you timidly say, still a little embarrassed to be barging in so early that Aziraphale hadn’t even opened up shop.
“Oh you didn’t have to, deary,” the angel crooned and offered a smile. “But thank you.”
You grinned, happy to have made the angel smile, but your curiosity continued to pique as moments passed, and no sign of your third companion came.
“Where’s Crowley?” You couldn’t help but frown. As much as you loved Aziraphale’s company, not having the demon around felt almost wrong. Incomplete.
“He’ll be here a moment. He’s a bit… preoccupied,” you’re not quite sure what the angel means, but you don’t pry further. It was probably about angel and demon business, anyway. “Shall we start on breakfast?”
Albeit you feel sad at the absence of your other favorite being, you try not to let it spoil your and Aziraphale’s mood as he settles on the couch, patting the space beside himself for you to sit.
You take a seat just as he begins to set the drinks on the table, grabbing the cakes from the paper bag and placing them on the table as well.
“I didn’t buy tea because I knew you liked to make your own,” you explained before Aziraphale could even speak, worried that he might have gotten upset at the lack of drinks.
But this was Aziraphale you were talking about. The angel never got upset, especially never at you.
“You know me so well, dear,” he smiles, before standing from the couch. “I’ve already got the kettle boiling!” He cheers, almost as if he’s proud of himself for thinking ahead. You can’t help but grin from ear to ear as you watch him shuffle into the kitchen.
You spend a moment by yourself in silence, humming away as you watch strangers pass by through the window. You are tapping away on the coffee table when the bell by the front entrance chimes, and the doors swing open, and a figure walks in.
“Having breakfast without me, are you?”
“Crowley!” You chirped, delighted to see your favorite demon walk into the shop.
“Missed me, love?” He gives you a cheeky wink and you hide your blushing face with a laugh, rolling your eyes at Crowley’s playfulness.
“Crowley, what took you so long!” Aziraphale emerges from the kitchen, with a cup of tea in his hands.
“Long line at requisitions, had to cut in line, in front of an old lady just to get things done,” Crowley sighs exasperatedly.
“Cutting in line, how very ill-mannered!” Aziraphale complains, now having sat back next to you on the couch. His tea sits next to your coffee, which you hadn’t yet touched. “In front of an old lady, no less!”
“Why was the old lady down there in the first place, hn,” the demon begins to take quick strides towards the two of you, grabbing his cup of coffee by the table. “Must’ve murdered her husband’r something.”
You sat in silence and grabbed your coffee from the table , listening to the two bicker back and forth amongst themselves. Your days usually start this way anyway, drinking coffee and listening to the angel and demon argue on about some nonsense you knew almost nothing about. It was therapeutic, in a way.
You had yet to tell anyone this, but you loved mornings like these. It’s been a little while since you’ve moved to SoHo, but the one-bedroom apartment you rented just a few blocks away seems so foreign to you now, since you spend nearly all of your time in Aziraphale’s bookshop.
Of course, sometimes you’re elsewhere, like Nina’s coffee shop, mostly, buying treats and drinks that you knew Aziraphale would like. (Crowley likes them too, but wishes Nina would branch into an alcoholic line of drinks).
On rare occasions, you’d visit Maggie’s record shop with Aziraphale. Even though in the beginning, you viewed records as “impractical” (to which Crowley had given a hearty chuckle to), you’d grown to love it, asking Maggie for the latest copies of Hozier or, if she was lucky to land a copy, Laufey.
Your fondest memory, however, was during a time when the three of you decided to dine in the French restaurant across the road, Marguerite’s. Usually, the two preferred to visit the Ritz, but you managed to get them to try out the local shop. The three of you dined under the sun, sharing stories and laughing as Aziraphale yet again attempts to avoid Mr. Brown, the chairman of their Street Shopkeepers’ Association.
In truth, you’d only been staying with Aziraphale and Crowley for a few months, but you’ve honestly felt more at home here on Aziraphale's couch than your own.
You suddenly realized you had been daydreaming, as you’re rudely awakened from your thoughts by the sound of someone snapping their fingers.
“—hello? Earth to, [name]? You with us, sugar?” It was Crowley, still standing in front of where you’ve set yourself down on the couch, wearing a worried expression, despite the sunglasses on his face.
“Are you alright, dear?” It’s Aziraphale who asks this time, and you turn to the side to meet his worried face as well. “You’ve been really quiet this morning.”
“I’m alright, really,” you reassure them both, and Crowley takes this time to seat himself next to you, opposite of where Aziraphale is. “It’s just a little too early, I think.”
“Would you like to take a nap here?” Aziraphale offers. “There is another couch in the back room, if you’d like to settle down there.”
You shake your head. “I’ll be fine, thank you. Can we eat breakfast now?”
Aziraphale nods, but you can hear Crowley tsk quietly from where he’s sat beside you. “Bit too sugary for breakfast, don’t ‘ya think?”
He’s looking right at the Eccles cakes, and you frown, wishing you had chosen another treat from the coffee shop.
Aziraphale immediately notices your saddened expression. “It’s fine, Crowley! A little sugar won’t hurt.”
“Won’t hurt you! What ‘bout [name] over here?” Crowley complains.
“You’re the one calling her sugar all the time—!” Aziraphale retaliates.
You merely sip your coffee and grab a pastry, tuning out the tones of the two idiots arguing beside you.
Mornings were always the same.
NOTE. This wasn’t the best but I’m not too ashamed of it! Please do send in requests! <3
