Being In a Poly Relationship w/ Aziraphale & Crowley Headcanons:
You probably met Aziraphale first
There would be a period of a few years between befriending them, figuring out what they are, and dating them. Probably a good 5-7 years because they do their best to hide their supernatural side and would not date someone who didn’t know.
They had been dating for quite a while when you were added to the relationship. They welcomed you with open, loving arms.
Even though they both say that you don’t have to work because they can ‘pay’ for things, if you decide to continue on working where you do they’ll always support you.
In fact, they will always support you in anyway they can. You an actor? They come to all your shows. Writer? They’ll read anything you ask them to and give feedback (Crowley will grumble because ‘i don’t read’ but he enjoys your stories regardless). Draw/paint? Aziraphale will put some of your art in the shop, if you’ll allow him.
Bake for Aziraphale and he will love you forever (and make some extra cookies for Crowley, he likes those)
You sometimes convince Aziraphale to slow dance with you to his classical music (“you don’t even need to move your feet, love. Just hold me and we can sway a bit.”)
Crowley will dance with you but it’s always so outrageous and it always makes you laugh.
Also oh my goodness, lunch dates are the BEST because Aziraphale will drag you two to his favourite places and the cooks/workers almost always know who he is and treat you amazingly.
If Crowley decides to grow his hair out again, he’ll let you brush it, and he’ll brush your hair if you ask. Also: WASHING EACH OTHERS HAIR.
Aziraphale enjoys when you wash his hair too, not that big a fan of brushing though (unless you’re using your fingers, then he doesn’t mind).
After so many years on Earth, Crowley’s learned to do a lot of things to keep him busy when he has nothing else to do. One of these things is make-up. He’ll always ask your opinion when he does up his face, and if you’ll let him he’ll doll you up as well.
Crowley wears a variety of clothes, both typically feminine and typically masculine, and he loves to play dress up with you sometimes - even Aziraphale has been know to join in (Az once put on this hecking cute sundress and you took so many pictures).
Don’t like that haircut you got? Not a problem, Aziraphale can fix it.
Stomachache? Feeling sick? Your partners know a good remedy that works for that.
Out of sugar or some other ingredient? Crowley will drive a million miles an hour into the grocery store to get it for you (and while he’s gone Aziraphale will probably miracle some up for you)
If you’re comfortable with it, Crowley will sometimes morph back into snake form and coil around you in a hug. (Usually under clothes so others can’t see him, like under your jacket and sometimes under your shirt. Whatever your comfortable with). Sometimes he’ll just laze around your neck.
Aziraphale and Crowley are both very touch starved, though neither of them will admit it. Heaven, though the ‘good guys’ were never an affectionate lot. And hell was no different. They will always lean into your touch and will pout when you pull away (they do the same with each other).
If you have pets Aziraphale will absolutely adore them. Crowley would as well, though your animals would probably be a bit wary of him at first because they can almost definitely sense ‘danger’ (unless, of course, this pet is a snake).
When the decide they are going to move into a small cottage together, they invite you to join them (but they understand if you’d prefer to (or need to, rather) stay in your flat).
If you work late, you’ll come home sometimes to find the two already cuddled up in bed waiting for you.
Aziraphale will read to you as you fall asleep if you want him to.
You sometimes steal Crowley’s sunglasses when he’s set them aside and he won’t admit it but he finds it adorable.
One time you and Crowley swapped clothes and ‘personalities’ as a prank and Aziraphale was so confused when you snapped and a glass of wine (or some drink, if you don’t drink wine) appeared in your hands (Crowley had sneakily snapped his own fingers at the same time). When the day was over you swapped back and acted like it never happened. To this day Aziraphale is certain it was a fever dream (if he could even have one, that is).
Sleep with stuffed animals? Crowley might tease you a little bit, but you can sure as hell continue to sleep with it because they both find it adorable (especially if you’ve named it and talk to it like it’s an actual person).
When Crowley is out/busy you and Aziraphale will read together (or he will read to you).
When Aziraphale is out/busy, you and Crowley will go for a drive. He’ll take you out to the middle of a field and the two of you will lay in the sun and he’ll tell you about everything he created before his fall.
Oh, and then there’s their wings. You’ll have been dating probably a year and some change when they show you their wings (whether it be because you ask about them or one of them needs preening). After that, they’ll sometimes wrap their wings around you when you cuddle to block out light so you can nap.
You have so many pictures of these dorks on your phone. You’ll secretly record them sometimes when they begin to bicker like an old married couple.
Crowley 100% has you and Aziraphale as his phone lock screen.
Selfies with him are endless. Oh, and if you put snapchat filters on Aziraphale he’ll always have the cutest surprised look.
Summary: When you realize Aziraphale will eventually outlive you, you start avoiding him. He’s finally had enough of it.
Warnings: Angst. Existential questions. Mentions of death. Some fluff.
Words: 815
A/N: Hope you enjoy! It’s short and to the point.
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You had been avoiding Aziraphale for a week now, and were desperately missing him. You missed his smile, and his laugh, and the excitement in his eyes when he got a new book. You missed him.
But fear kept you away. Fear of the future - the fear of dying.
Before meeting Aziraphale, you’d never thought much about the future. Especially not something so distant, like your death. You’d never feared the idea of growing old and passing on. Never even thought about it, if you were being honest.
But now, you had him. A literal Angel. An ethereal being whom had chosen you, among all others, to love so fully. A being who had lived for so long, and had probably lost so many people. And you had realized that, eventually, you would be one of them.
You didn’t doubt that he loved you. There was no denying the looks he gave you, or the way he kissed you when the two of you were alone. There was no denying the way he held you hand, or the way he held you when you were tired. There was no denying that you had made home in his heart.
But thinking about the future, about growing up, and getting old, it made you realize just how much it will hurt him when you’re gone. Your life will end, while his has probably only just really begun.
Six thousand years. Six thousand years of living, of meeting people. Six thousand years of potential partners and he had chosen you. A human. Fragile. Mortal. He would outlive you, no doubt about it.
You took it upon yourself to avoid him. To make things sour. To avoid his phone calls, and avoid his shop. If he thought you weren’t interested, he would surely stop. After all, he was an angel. He must have better things to do than chase around some mortal girl.
You learned fairly quickly that you were wrong. By the end of the second week of you avoiding him, Aziraphale had had enough. You had come home from the shop to find your angelic partner sitting on your couch, waiting. You had assumed he was there to break things off - it would have been much easier that way. But Aziraphale had a way of making things difficult.
“Did I do something wrong?” He asked, and it broke your heart. He looked so broken, sitting there. He looked like he was on the brink of tears, and after a moment, so were you.
“No.”
“Then… why are you doing this?” Aziraphale stood, and walked towards you, and you found yourself backing away. You couldn’t even look at him now.
“Aziraphale… I think it would be better if we stopped seeing each other.” Your surprised at how steady your voice sounds.
“Why?” Because I’m going to die, and you’re going to live.
“Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be Az…” You try to move past him, but he steps in your way. “Aziraphale please.”
“At least explain it to me?” He begs. “I just. I don’t understand. I thought we were…”
“Things change. Now, please, leave.” You try again to move past him, but he is stubborn.
“Not until you tell me what is going on.” Your eyes shoot up to his, and a sudden wave of anger rushes over you. Why couldn’t he just take a hint? The words come tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.
“Just get out! Get out!” You shove past him now, storming into the kitchen. It doesn’t take long for the anger to wear off, and you find yourself leaning heavy on the counter top, sobbing into your hand, and shaking.
You hear Aziraphale approaching you, and you don’t have the energy to stop him from turning you around. He’s pulling you into his arms, and you let him. Your sobs are muffled into his coat, and he’s running a hand over your hair, trying to calm you down. It takes a minute, but once your breathing calms down, Aziraphale is asking you again:
“What’s wrong, my dear?”
And you break down. You tell him everything - your fears, not wanting him to miss you for the rest of his immortal life. And he listens to everything. Once you’re done, Aziraphale pulls away so that he can look at your face.
“My dear,” He speaks softly, using one hand to wipe away your tears. “I have lived long enough to know that every moment spent with someone you love is important. And I love you with all my heart. I want to spend every moment that I can with you. To the very end.”
“But-” You start to speak, but he hushes you.
“No buts, my dear.” Aziraphale placed a gentle, loving kiss to your lips. “I love you. And nothing is going to change that.”
A/N: For this, the reader is going to be American. And Ugh I feel like Crowley is OOC in this *cries in celestial* Also, this likely takes place after the events of Good Omens. Also did my best to keep in gender neutral, so let me know if I fucked up.
---
Golden. That was the color your right eye was. The eye that was meant to match your soulmates. It was a beautiful color you thought. Your family, not so much.
You’d been forced to wear sunglasses since the age of three. You didn’t understand why, no one would explain it to you. They simply expected you to do as you were told. For the most part, you did. But when you were alone in the restroom, or even in your own bedroom, you would take them off and admire your eyes in the mirror. One a lovely (color), and the other brilliant gold, slit down the middle like a snake’s.
When you started elementary school, your parents were hesitant. They made sure to explain to all the adults - the principal, the lunch lady, the teachers - that you were NOT allowed to remove the glasses. Ever. The other kids thought you were weird.
Some of them had already found their soulmate. Others had two different shades, some brown and green, others blue and hazel, some different shades of the same color. No one ever had a yellow snake eye.
It was the second grade that another kid finally convinced you to take off your glasses. You’d smiled brightly as you removed them, only to let it fall in utter confusion as he and his group of friends screamed.
The truth spread fast. They all called you freak, and you were a target of non-stop bullying. Even the little girl you’d managed to befriend stopped hanging out with you. The other kids would continuously try to steal your glasses, and when they did, they snapped them in half, leaving your eyes open to the world.
Within a month your parents pulled you from school and decided homeschooling was the next best idea. You were isolated. Alone. The human contact you had was short and dull. The only friends you had consisted of people you talked to online, which were few and far between. Slowly, you began to hate your eyes. Even when alone you tended to wear your glasses.
Both of your siblings found their soulmates by the age of 18. Their eyes were, as one would call then, ‘complete’. You prayed to whoever might be listening for you to finally meet your soulmate, so your eyes would be complete, so you wouldn’t be alone anymore. You would finally be able to safely see the world without a darkened filter. After a while you started to think, maybe your parents were right for making you wear the glasses, but damn, they were expensive.
By the age of 28, you still had not found your soulmate, and you’d spent more money than you could count on sunglasses. Your parents used to get upset at you when you lost your glasses or when they broke. And it wasn’t like you’d been trying to! You came to the conclusion that you had just been born unlucky.
Somehow, though, you caught a break. You’d just finished your second to last year of college when you managed to plan your first ever out-of-the-country trip to London over summer break. Your best friend, Sophie, lived there. Sophie was the only person you felt you could trust completely. You’d met her on a confession blog that she and her soulmate, Anna, ran. You knew them both well, but Sophie had been the first to see your eyes and not treat you like a freak of nature. Anna had only seen them once. Regardless, she was nice to you.
Sophie and Anna had met when they were children, and they had both recalled the moment they realized they the person across from them was the one person in their life they knew could do them no wrong. The one person they could trust completely. You wanted that. Despite everything that damn eye had done for you, you wanted that. You were just afraid of who the snake-eyed person might end up being. Lord, you hoped they were a good person.
Sophie was there to greet you when you arrived at the airport. She was in a light yellow sundress with black tights and black boots, and she held a half-assed sign with your name written on it.
When her eyes landed on you, her face split into a huge grin. She dropped her bag, and the sign and welcomed you with open arms. Despite wanting to keep your composure, you felt a few tears fall down your cheeks in happiness. You’d wanted to meet Sophie for years.
“Welcome to London,” She said as she pulled away. Without hesitation, she gently wiped away your tears. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
“Me neither.” You smiled widely for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’m just so relieved to get away, even if it’s only for the week.”
“Well I’m going to make sure this is the best week of your life, bitch, so you’ll have to come back.” She said with a wink.
“If I can afford it.” You laughed awkwardly.
“I’ll make sure you can afford it.” Sophie held up a hand and tapped your nose gently with a small ‘boop’ before pulling you out of the airport.
The first stop was the home she and Anna shared. It wasn’t anything huge - it had two rooms, a bathroom, a small living room, and a kitchenette. Anna wasn’t home - according to Sophie, Anna worked weekdays at her father’s furniture business, and did some custom clothing work on the side (in the corner of the living room you saw her sewing supplied all piled up in the corner). She wouldn’t be home till later.
“I took the week off,” Sophie admitted. “I want to spend as much time as I’ve got with you.”
“Oh Sophie,” You gushed quietly. “Oh, you didn’t have to.”
“Nonsense! Other than Anna, you are my best friend. I wasn’t gonna let you go around my hometown all alone, I’m not that cruel.” Sophie suddenly gets very serious. “You said you’re not allergic to cats, right?” You nodded slowly and she grinned. “Fantastic!” She skipped over to the door of her and Anna’s shared room and pushed it open.
Moments later, a large, fluffy, white cat bound out, covered from head to toe in dirt. Sophie let out a squeal of surprise.
“Shit!” She said. “Shit, shit, shit!” The cat bounced up at you, attempting to climb up your leg. You jumped back in surprise, but the cat was very determined. “I forgot to put Anna’s plants in the kitchen!” Sophie sighed. “Nina’s knocked them down!” Nina let out a loud pur as you scooped her up in your arms, and she immediately rubbed her head into the skin of your neck. You ran your fingers over her gently, dislodging some of the dirt.
Sophie stormed over, pouting as she looked at Nina.
“You little brat, you fuck up some perfectly good flowers and think you deserve a cuddle?” Nina peered up at her with bored blue eyes. You snorted as Sophie took Nina. “This is why we took away your TV privileges young lady.”
“She has TV privileges?” You asked, laughing.
“Anna and I figured out pretty quickly that Nina likes to watch Benedict Cumberbatch so we usually put on Sherlock or Doctor Strange on to keep her occupied. But recently she was being a little shit so we took away her privileges for two weeks.”
“I mean, I can’t blame her.” You giggled as Sophie avoided Nina’s playful swipes at her face with her paw.
“Ugh, you’re a bastard.” Sophie groaned, setting Nina back down. The cat bolted back towards the bedroom. “No- Gah!” Sophie sighed. “I haven’t… cleaned up yet.” She wiped her face with her hands, effectively smearing dirt on her cheeks.
“Want me to occupy her while you clean?” You offered, to which Sophie was grateful. She tore Nina away from the broken pots and over to you, and you held and played with her for a good twenty minutes while Nina cleaned up the mess. It was when Nina began bapping your face repeatedly that you quickly removed your sunglasses, knowing that if you got any kind of scratches on them you’d have to buy new ones.
“Alright!” Sophie announced, walking out of her room with a trash bag. “My beautiful fiancé’s plants are trashed,” she paused, noticing that you had taken off your shades. You guys met eyes for a long moment and then she smiled. “I was thinking you and I could go to the shop to get some more.”
You smiled, or at least tried to. You set Nina down, who scampered back into the bedroom, trailing dirt behind her.
“Yeah,” you put your glasses back on and stood. “I’m game.” Sophie grabbed her purse, fishing for a moment before pulling out her own pair of shades and putting them on.
“Let’s go then.”
The drive to the gardening shop took no more than ten minutes. The browsing on the other hand, that did seem like it was stopping anytime soon.
“What about these ones?” She picked up a pot of pink tulips, bringing them closer for inspection. It was the ninth plant she’d contemplated, of which she’d only decided on two.
“I thought Anna wasn’t fond of the color pink.” You frowned. Sophie purses her lips.
“Well, that’s mostly true. More pink clothing and accessories. Flowers are okay, I believe.” She held the pot close. “I’m going to hand this to the bloke up front, then we can keep looking.” You nodded, and she went off. You continued to wander, gazing at the different arrangement of flowers, and succulents, and some of the larger plants near the back. You held up a rather small spider plant, and decided that when you got home you were going to spruce up your place with some nice house plants. You’d been thinking about it for a while, but being in that shop just solidified the idea.
You begin making your way back towards the flower when a man rounds the corner and you crash into each other. You stumble back a bit, and take him in. He’s tall, with short, red hair, dressed in what you could consider semi-casual clothes. His eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses, not much unlike your own - including the side shields you sometimes had to put in yourself. He looks a bit annoyed by being ran into, but neither of you say a word because they catch in your throat.
There’s a sensation of almost burning behind your eye - nothing uncomfortable, to your surprise. But it’s enough that you have to gape, removing your glasses so you could press your hand into it. The man quickly does the same, turning away from you with a short curse.
It’s the moment you’re able to open your eyes again that it hits you. As you stare at this man, you can’t stop yourself from gently grabbing his wrist, something it seems he’s going to jerk away from until his head snaps in your direction, and a pair of brilliant snake eyes stare back at you. The same color as the eye that caused you so much trouble growing up.
You could have cried, and you probably were. The man swallowed thickly, glancing back and forth to make sure no one was around before his eyes settled on you again.
“You’re…” he paused, unsure what to say.
“I thought I was never going to find you.” You blurted out, flushing quickly. “I-I wasn’t sure there was really someone with… well, your eyes.” Hesitantly, you reach up to cup his cheeks, and he watches you closely.
“I didn’t think there was really someone out there for me.” He replied. His eyes searched your own for something, though you weren’t sure what.
“What’s your name?” You asked, pulling away slowly. You were a bit surprised when he caught your hands.
“Crowley.” He gave your hands a light squeeze.
“(Name).” You replied. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Crowley.” You saw the faintest smile on his lips as he let go of your hands, placing his sunglasses back on.
“Likewise, (name).” He looked around again, opening his mouth to speak again when suddenly he was interrupted.
“There you are!” Sophie said from behind you. “Should I keep a leash on you?” She joked. You turned around to face her, and she caught sight of your face for the first time. Her eyes widened. “Oh-” She looked at Crowley, realization truly hitting her. “Oh! Oh, shit.” She laughed, but slapped a hand over her mouth. “Holy shit.”
“Sophie,” You sighed.
“No, no! I’ll leave you be.” She came up to you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug before pulling away, her eyes going between yourself and a slightly amused Crowley. “You know how to get back to the house, right?”
“Yes?” You said, a bit puzzled by the question. Sophie smiled, turning on her heel before sauntering off. “Sophie? Sophie, what the hell.” You hissed, half tempted to follow her before remembering exactly who was standing behind you. You turned back to Crowley, an awkward smile on your face. “I’m… So sorry about her.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” Crowley shook his head gently. “I have a friend who may have reacted in the same way, except, well, without all the cursing.”
“Sophie’s been my friend forever now,” You laughed. “She’s the only thing keeping me sane sometimes.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Aziraphale.” He chuckled. There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. Seeing him smile made your heart feel warm and fuzzy. Was this what it felt like to be in love? To feel loved?
Lord, you’d only just met the man, but you knew there was nothing you wouldn’t do so see him smile like that forever.
“So, uh, (name),” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I know we just met and all, but, uh… Well, I was wondering if you’d like to go get some lunch? There’s a bakery a couple blocks away, and I’m… I’m sure you have many questions about…” He ran a hand through his hair, still stumbling over his words, but you knew exactly what he meant.
His eyes.
“I’d love that.” You agreed with a smile. “Seeing as my tour guide’s basically abandoned me.” You sighed. “Though, you know, my parents taught me never to accept invitations from strangers.”
“Strange? Me? No.” He shook his head, chuckling. “I think you’ll find I’m absolutely normal.” You laughed in response. Then, he held out his arm. “C’mon. I think it’s time we got to know each other. Smiling, you looped your arm with his.
“I look forward to it.”
Let’s just say, you were going to be staying in London for longer than you’d planned.
A/N: After a fucking stressful week I finally managed to pump this out - enjoy!
——
You were excited to bring your favorite otherworldly beings a fresh batch of cookies. It had been quite a while since you’d had the chance to take the time to bake for Crowley and Aziraphale, and now that the apocalypse was over you had all the time in the world.
You packed them away in a large red tin with a silver top, and held them closely as your directed the cab driver towards Aziraphale’s bookshop.
It was a pleasant ride - the cabbie wasn’t overly chatty, but also didn’t ignore you the whole time. He told you about the few times he’d driven people away from Aziraphale’s bookshops, and how all those people were annoyed or angry over the fact the owner demanded “ridiculous prices” for all his books, or how he would blow them off altogether.
You’d laughed at these stories. Sounds like my angel, you’d thought to yourself.
“Jus’ don’t be disappointed if ‘e turns you away.” The cabbie had said, and you gave him a kind smile.
“Oh, I’m not worried about that, sir. Mr. Fell and I happen to be very close.” You saw the bookshop ahead, and collected the money you’d need to pay him. “Thank you very much for you worry, though. And for the drive.” As he pulled up to the curb, you gather your things up into your arms and exited the car, passing him the bills through his open window. “Please, keep the change.” He gave you a small nod, and a smile before pulling back into traffic. Above you, you could see rain clouds gathering and let out a happy sigh. You made it just in time.
You could see Crowley’s Bentley parked a little bit away, and your grin widened.
Perfect timing. You gave yourself an invisible gold star.
The bookshop was empty, with the exception of your partners. Crowley greeted you with a chaste kiss and a half-hug. Aziraphale exited the back room, and gave you a gentle kiss to the cheek and a nuzzle of his nose against your own, and you pulled him a little closer with your ars around his shoulders.
“Hello, my dear.” He said.
“Hullo, Azi.” You smiled as you pulled away, reaching into the red bag you’d used to carry the cookies. “Guess what I’ve got.” You said in a sing-song voice as you presented the container. “They’re your favorite - white chocolate macadamia!” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. You felt a wave of worry wash over you.
“Oh, that’s lovely my dear. Thank you very much.” He took the container gingerly, and you knew something was wrong. The Aziraphale you knew would have all but ripped off the top to try one - he’d then offer one to you and Crowley. The angel in front of you looked hesitant to even touch the container.
“Azi, is something wrong?” You asked.
“Wrong? Why would anything be wrong my dear?” Aziraphale’s smile faltered for a moment as he set aside the container.
“Well, I don’t mean to sound rude, but that reaction was a bit… underwhelming.” You said, and Aziraphale pursed his lips.
“What reaction?”
“Well, usually when I bring you treats you get so excited. Right now you don’t seem to want anything to do with them.” You folded your arms gently over your chest.
“They’re right Angel.” Crowley piped up, coming to place an arm around your waist as he looked at Aziraphale. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m just… not hungry.” He said.
“That’s not fair, Angels don’t get hungry.” You pouted. “Azi, if something’s wrong, tell us. Please?”
“Nothing is wrong,” he sighed. “Please, just drop it.”
“Angel I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying.” Crowley warned, and you wanted to roll your eyes. If that were true, the almost-geddon would have gone very differently. “Look, we’re just trying to look out for you - we’re asking because we care and we love you. (Name) and I just want to make sure you’re alright.” There was a moment where (name) assumed Aziraphale would shoot them down again, but after a moment the Angel’s smile fell and he let out a sigh.
“It’s…” he stopped, refusing to meet your eyes. “It’s just something Gabriel said. When we were still working on ending the apocalypse.”
“What did that arsehole say?” You hissed out, arms crossing. You’d only met Gabriel once, at the air base, and it hadn’t been a pleasant meeting.
“Well he, uh, told me that I should, as he put it ‘lose the gut’.” You felt your blood begin to boil at the idea of Gabriel indirectly calling your sweetheart fat. If he couldn’t smite you where you stood, you’d go give him a piece of your mind. “I thought it would just be better to start, um, watching what I eat.”
You jumped a bit as Crowley hissed something out - it wasn’t in any language you could understand and each syllable buzzed in your head like a bee looking for an exit.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale chastised. “Watch your language.” A part of you wondered if he meant that in terms of what he said or how he said it, but you also knew it could have been both. Aziraphale sighed, muttering a lone “I’m soft.”
“But that’s not a bad thing.” You said, stepping towards Aziraphale and wrapping your arms around him. “I quite enjoy having a little more you you to love.”
“I agree-” Crowley began, but you cut him off.
“It makes up for Crowley being the size of a stick.” You winked. Crowley snickered as he came over to hold the both of you.
“I would be offended if it wasn’t true.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then one to Aziraphale’s. “There is nothing wrong with you, my love. Like (name) said, there’s more of you to love.”
How To Keep A Secret for Less Than 24 Hours (Crowley x Pregnant!Fem!Witch!Reader)
Characters: Crowley, Aziraphale, fem!witch!reader
Requested: Yes
Requested by: @fortune-fool02
Point of View:
Summary: When (name) discovers she is pregnant with her partner, Crowley’s, child, she goes to Aziraphale for help.
Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, slight angst. Some cussing. Minimal editing.
Words: 1408
A/N: I keep doing witch readers lol. I almost didn’t finish this in time because I was trying to get my printer working to get more D&D sheets- Anyway, enjoy this, I promise it’s not an angsty ending.
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(Name) had met Crowley in the mid 1600’s. It had been a more than awkward meeting, as she was being dragged by an angry mob towards her pyre while they all chanted “witch, witch!”. And Crowley had saved her, though he had yet to, after almost 350 years, tell her why. Even after 140 years of dating he had yet to tell her. It was one of the few secrets he kept from her.
Now, there weren’t many things that (name) didn’t tell her partner. She wasn’t a big fan of keeping secrets from him.
But this.
Oh, god, this.
How was she supposed to tell him this?
(Name) had been using the same ritual to keep herself alive and rejuvenated for years, and she’d realized rather quickly that it kept everything as equally alive and rejuvenated. Which is why, when Mother Nature was not one, but two weeks late to kick her ass, she was worried.
To her luck, Crowley hadn’t noticed. He also wasn’t aware that she had set up a doctors appointment, of which she went to alone, and very early in the morning.
Positive. The test came back positive.
She and Crowley had been so careful, hadn’t they?
(Name) was beginning to panic.
Pregnant. She was pregnant. With Crowley’s child - oh god, how am I supposed to tell him, she thought to herself, sitting huddled on the bus bench waiting to be taken back home where she would ultimately have to tell her lover of the unplanned pregnancy.
Did he even want children? She had asked him about it almost a century ago, and back then the answer has been no. Was it still a no now? What would he do if it was?
An idea popped into her head, and she stood. (Name) walked to the light, and crossed the street.
There was only one person on the whole planet who knew her partner even better than she did. Hell, Aziraphale probably knew Crowley better than the demon knew himself. (Name) had known Aziraphale for a number of years, and would consider him one of her closest (and only) friends. She just hoped, she prayed, that he would be able to help her at least calm her nerves.
So (name) hopped on a bus that took her in the opposite direction of her and Crowley’s flat, and towards the bookshop.
Her mind was swamped with worry, and with doubt. As soon as she arrived at the bookshop and barreled through the doors and into the back room, past the customers who turned their heads when they heard the aggressive-Aw ring of the bell.
“I’m sorry but you cannot be-“ Aziraphale stopped when he realized who had entered his back room. “(Name)? What’s wrong, my dear, you look upset - come on, sit down, I will be right back.” (Name) wordlessly did as she was told, slumping into Aziraphale’s couch as he went to the main part of the shop to usher people out. She could hear him telling them some family business had popped up, and felt her throat tighten.
When Aziraphale reemerged (name) was almost in tears.
“Oh, my dear, what seems to be the matter? Did Crowley do something?” (Name) shook her head furiously at that.
“No!” She said. “No, no, he’s done nothing.” Realizing that she was beginning to cry, (name) quickly began to wipe the tears away. “Aziraphale… I need help.”
“Whatever might be the matter? My dear, this is most irregular - not that I’m refusing assistance, but is it so bad you cannot seek your own partners help?”
“Aziraphale,” she took in a deep, shaky breath. “I went to the hospital this morning.”
“That’s never a good start.” Aziraphale lowered himself onto the couch beside her. “Why did you go?”
“I needed to be certain of something.” She told him, cursing herself internally. She needed to just come out and say it.
“Of what?” Here goes nothing.
“I’m pregnant.” Her words hung in the air, silence had overtaken the bookshop.
“Oh,” Aziraphale finally said. “Should I congratulate you?”
“No,” she shook her head. “No, I,” she stopped, wiping again at her eyes. “I came here because I… I’m scared.”
“Whatever for?”
“Because this wasn’t planned.” She all but snapped, turning her head to him. “Crowley and I haven’t talked about... kids in a century, and last we spoke he didn’t want any.”
“A lot can change in a century, (name).” Aziraphale said softly, taking your hand.
“I’m scared, Aziraphale.” She said again. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, do you want the child?”
“What?”
“Do you, (name), want the child?” She thought about it, but only for a moment, because she already knew the answer. It was her answer that had made her so scared of how Crowley might react.
“Yes,” she said. “Of course I want them.”
“Then tell him that.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“(Name),” Aziraphale sighed. “It is your body. And if Crowley decides he doesn’t want to be a father, he cannot force you to… rid your body of the child.”
“Aziraphale…”
“I know this must be hard on you, my dear.” He gently brushed your cheek with his fingers. “But if you want to know my opinion, I don’t think Crowley would ever leave you. Not even for something like this. Crowley is truly, deeply in love with you and even if he’s scared, even if he’s not too keen on having children, I do not believe he would ever, even for a moment, contemplate abandoning either of you.” She nodded slowly, and then began shaking her head, laughing sadly.
“As much as I want this child,” She began. “I’m still so scared. I was raised in the 15th century, Aziraphale. How the hell do you raise a child in this day and age?”
“Well, I guess you just… figure it out as you go. Read a parenting book. Or something.” He clasped his hands together. “Besides. I don’t believe the child will be like all the other children - not that that is a bad thing.”
“Half-demon half-witch…” (name) murmured, wiping away what she hoped would be the last of her tears. “This should be interesting.” Aziraphale gave her a soft smile. “Thank you, Azi… I… I don’t think I’m so scared anymore.” You stood from the couch and Aziraphale followed. The two of you were so distracted you didn’t hear someone enter the shop.
“Are you going to tell him?” He asked.
“I don’t think this is something I should keep from him.” She murmured. Aziraphale gave a short nod, and opened his arms. (Name) stepped into the hug, letting out a sigh.
“Hey, Aziraphale, have you seen-” Crowley stopped talking as he entered the back room, having just taken off his sunglasses. His eyes met (name)’s and he seemed to relax. “Ah, I should have known!” He smiled widely. Then, jokingly, he continues, “Should I be worried about you stealing my girl, Aziraphale?” He said, and the Angel rolled his eyes. He then looked (name) in the eyes and there was a perfect understanding between the two. She nodded gently. “Something the two of you want to tell me?”
“Actually,” (Name) said, taking in a deep breath. “Just me.” (Name) walked to Crowley, and took his hands in her own. “Crowley, I have something very important to tell you.”
“Is everything alright, love?” He asked.
“Yeah, everything is… Everything’s okay.” She swallowed hard, her nerves coming back. “Now, Crowley, I understand if you become upset,”
“I’m really not liking where this is going.” He murmured, looking over your shoulder. Then he looked back to you, unblinking, and completely focused on you. Just like a band-aid, she reminded herself.
“Crowley,” She brought his hands up to her cheeks, a wave of calm passing over her from the contact, and she gently rubbed her backs of his hands. She closed her eyes. “I’m pregnant.” She felt dread in the silence, then heard Crowley sigh in relief.
“For someone’s sake, I thought you were leaving me.” (Name)’s eyes opened in surprise to find that Crowley had closed his own, tears rolling down his cheeks. She quickly brought him into a hug.
“You’re not mad?” She whispered.
“No,” He replied. “No, I’m not mad. God, I could never be mad.” Then, after a moment. “Holy shit, I’m going to be a father.”
That was the moment (name) knew that everything would be okay.
A/N: Okay tbh I’m not very confident in this one? I feel like it may stray a bit too far from the prompt but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
---
The towering wall of flames that surrounded the while of London were preventing your previous plan of escape. Something fishy had been going on for a while, you knew that, and your gut told you that leaving today would be the best idea.
You guessed you just weren’t fast enough.
You had just been starting to get onto the M25 when you saw the flames in the distance starting. It was a miracle you were able to get out of your car before the flames overtook, devouring it and other cars (and people) whole. The only thing you had was your phone, which had miraculously made home in your back pocket before you’d got into your car.
Other people near you had begun to abandon their cars, the fear that maybe the flames would expand. But you stood there, alone in the rain, watching it with… wonder.
It was only a few minutes later, or so it seemed, that a vaguely familiar vintage black car pulled up beside you, and a very familiar red-headed man stepped out. Your eyes widened upon recognition, but before you could say anything be started.
“Who the hell are you?” He says. “Why is it, at every turn, you’re there, huh? Why do I keep running into you!” He throws his hands up, in anger and frustration. Under normal circumstances you would have run away. But there were two things keeping you there. One, even if you were to try to you, you were certain this man would be able to catch you, what with his damn long legs. Second, there was something odd itching in the back of your mind. Something that told you, that despite the way things seemed, you were perfectly safe with this man.
You’d run into him on many occasions now - typically, he was accompanied by a blond man in a tan coat and tartan bow tie. And on each occasion, they had saved your life - more accurately, this angry ginger man had saved your life.
The first time had been rather tame, in your opinion. You’d been bird watching, from your usual tree at the park, out of view of the cops, since they’d warned you against your tree-climbing many times. Usually you would have listened. It wasn’t in your nature to go against a higher authority, but bird watching was one of the few pleasures in life you had, as it required little to no human interaction and could be done from a lot of places.
Your favorite spot, though, was the park. Specifically, the one with the dinosaurs. You couldn’t remember the name for the life of you - you didn’t need to know it. All you needed to know was that someone didn’t cut down your usual tree, and that there were no cops around. Otherwise an afternoon of bird watching would be ruined before it even started.
You were scribbling something down in your journal when the pencil fumbled from your hand, and in the heat of the moment you had fumbled backwards to try and catch it, only to fall from the tree yourself.
It hadn’t been the first time, and you were certain it wouldn’t be the last, but it was the first time you were actually caught. You’d been rather surprised. It seemed as if the person had been expecting your fall. You thought, for a moment, that it might have been Officer Harrison, whom had warned you against tree-climbing on many occasions. But you didn’t recognize the man at all. It was the red-headed man. He’d set you down rather roughly, handed you your pencil before stomping off with a blond gentlemen, who gave you a nervous smile before following his companion.
It only got more extreme from there.
The next time you saw the man, you were making a visit to your Aunt Mary Hodges.
You weren’t related to your Aunt Mary by blood. Your mum had known her as a child, and they’d been rather close, practically sisters. They’d fallen out of contact when you were younger, and in that time Mary had become a nun, then after the order was dissolved, had become a successful business woman. It was around that time she got back in contact with your mom, and by default, back in contact with you.
You loved your Aunt Mary. She was a bit odd, you would admit. Sometimes she would forget she was no longer a part of the chattering order, and would tell you everything on her mind. Some things were questionable, others were just plain silly. You’d learned not to take everything she said to heart.
Was she a bit scatterbrained? Yes
Did you still love her? Absolutely.
Which is why you decided to visit her at her place of work. You’d forgotten to call ahead, which you quickly realized was a mistake. There were a good dozen cars parked out front, including a quite beautiful vintage Bentley.
That meant that another paintball session was happening. Usually when you came to visit during one of those, Mary would leave the back door unlocked for you. Now you were staring to wish you’d called her. You knew she didn’t answer her cell during work hours, especially not when there was a session happening. You would have to risk getting pelted with paint balls if you really wanted to get inside.
So, you tossed off your jacket, sighing in contempt before you began to walk. It was silent. Deadly silent. You were certain some must have spotted you already, and were bracing yourself for impact.
You heard the pop of the trigger being pulled, and your eyes widened as a real, metal bullet whizzed past your head.
Not safe. Definitely not safe. You lurched forward with a short scream, dashing towards the entryway of the building.
More gunfire rang through the air, and to your luck none of them came close to you. You didn’t bother to slow down, your feet carrying you in the direction of Mary’s office.
“Aunt Mary!” You shouted. “Aunt Mary!”
As you were about to turn the corner, you came face to face with a man - the same man, from the park. You froze, eyes wide. You opened your mouth to say something but he lurched forward, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him as a few stray bullets flew through the window, shattering the glass and impacting the wall beside where you once stood.
You opened your mouth to say something, but it all became blank. The man stood before you a few moments longer before retreating, leaving you confused and alone. You didn’t know why you didn’t follow him, or why you didn’t say anything. A part of you wanted to, but something else was telling you to just… forget about it. And you did. Even when the police arrived to investigate, you could hardly say much about the interaction. It somehow just felt unimportant.
And you kept bumping into him. And he kept saving you, sometimes from himself and his own antics.
You couldn’t find the words to express your confusion, or your upset. You just stood there, in the rain as this man shouted at you. A part of you wanted to break down and cry, but all you did was stand there. He calmed down slowly, and turned to you. You blood ran cold as he removed his glasses, revealing a pair of golden snake eyes. But you weren’t afraid.
“Who are you.” He demanded again. You quickly stuttered out your name. “Why the hell do I keep meeting you, (name)?”
“I don’t know!” You cried out, arms wrapped around yourself to try and save your warmth. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“I find that hard to believe.” He glanced over your shoulder and his eyes widened in surprise. You braced yourself. Anything could happen.
“Get in the car.” He said suddenly.
“E-excuse me?”
“Get in the car. Now.” He didn’t look away from whatever might be behind you. He lifted his hand, and with a snap of his fingers the passenger side door flew open.
“I, uh, I don’t think that’s a very good, uh, idea-” You went to turn around, but the man stopped you.
“You have to trust me.” He said suddenly. “Please.” You did. You against your better judgement, you trusted him. Despite this you stood there, staring him down.
“I don’t even know you.” You repeated.
“What? You want a name? Will that make you feel better?” You said nothing. “Crowley. The name is Crowley, now please get in the car.”
Feeling as if you didn’t have a choice, you entered the vintage car. Crowley followed quickly after, getting in the driver's seat. He hands you a singed book. “Open that, see if there’s anything.” He instructed.
You did as you were told. There were many, small, numbered paragraphs littered on the pages. You read the first one that caught your eye.
“3334. Drive. Hold her close, demon. For the fire will burn but yee can protect her.” You looked up at the towering flames. “What the fuck does this even mean?”
“It means we’re going for a drive, (name).”
“Are you crazy!”
“He must be.” You wanted to scream, the sudden appearance of a man in the back seat sending you into a panic. He was deathly pale, with warts covering his cheeks, and a slimy frog fused to the top of his head. He was horrifying, but he paid you no mind. His dark, murky eyes were turned to Crowley.
“Ah, Hastur, how was your time in voicemail?” Crowley grinned to himself. You yelped as he pulled you into his side, arm thrown over your shoulder.
“Funny ha-ha, joke all you like, Crowley.” The man, Hastur, grumbled. “There’s nowhere to run.”
“Aren’t you to be lining up, ready for battle around now?” All you could do was stare forward into the fire. Was he really going to drive you into that?
You didn’t doubt it.
“Hell will not forget.” Hastur sneered from behind you. “Hell will not forgive. You know where the real Antichrist is, don’t you.” Antichrist? Hell? What the fuck was going on with these men, you wondered. They couldn’t really be… demons. Right? “You’ll never reach him. You’re done Crowley. You think you’re going to get the both of you across that?” The flames before the car seemed to grow at the demons words. It took you a moment to realize Crowley was busy selecting a CD to play. “There’s nowhere to go.”
“Let’s find out.” Crowley slipped the CD into the player. The car began to roll forward, and your heart started to race.
“What- wh- why are you driving.” Hastur demanded.
“What the hell are you doing,” You said. “You’re mad!”
“Trust me on this,” He muttered, pulling you closer. Everything told you to pull away, but instead you squished closer, clutching his coat tightly as the fire came closer, and closer.
“That’s- what- Stop this thing!” Hastur demanded, and you wanted to agree. There was no way you’d make it across, you were certain of it.
“You know the thing I like best about time?” Crowley drawled. “It’s that every day it takes us further away from the 14th century.” Crowley kept an arm around you, and one hand firmly on the wheel. You began to shake. “I really didn’t like the 14th century. You’d have loved it then, Hastur. They didn’t have any cars back in the 14th century.” As Crowley spoke, you sped closer and closer to the flames. You let out a small scream as the car plunged into the fire, and Crowley gave you a tight squeeze.
You’re surprised to find that, you’re barely even warm. It was like a soft blanket was wrapped around you, protecting you from the flames that licked at the outside of the vehicle. Behind you, Hastur howled in pain. These howls dies out with one last ‘I hate you’ before all you could hear was the music on the radio and Crowley’s shouts at his car telling it that it ‘will not burn’.
Despite everything, despite the fear coursing through your veins, despite the voices in your head telling you that this is it, you found yourself snuggling just a bit closer to Crowley.
The Eye of the Storm (Crowley x Fem!College Student!Reader)
Characters: Crowley, fem!reader, reader’s asshole ex boyfriend, a friend named Raul.
Requested: Yes
Requested by: Anon
Point of View: Second Person
Summary: When your ex won’t stop bothering you, your boyfriend Crowley takes it upon himself to help you.
Warnings: Stalking from an ex, harassment from ex, unwanted touching from ex, minimal editing. I might have cursed???
Words: 1436
A/N: I sprinkled in a thing from the book where when Crowley is under stress his eyes go red.
---
You’d never exactly thought of school as a safe haven - especially not now.
You’d been going to the same university for a number of years now, and in that time had met and dated a young man named Steven. The relationship had only lasted a little under a year, and ended when you’d realized just how controlling he was.
He’d never let you go out with friends, especially not other male or masculine-presenting friends. He had to know where you were at all times, and if you couldn’t talk for a certain period of time (like during tests or going to the cinema) he threw a fit. The last straw was when he began to track your phone.
After the initial break up he continued to show up after your classes, and he’d follow you around like a lost puppy begging for forgiveness. He even found your new place of work, much to your dismay. But now it seemed like he was finally leaving you alone. It had been months since your last encounter with him, and you had happily began to date the demon Crowley. You’d known him for a while, having met him your freshman year when taking a trip to A. Z. Fell and Co. Bookshop in Soho with your sister. You couldn’t remember just how you’d become friends, let alone how you’d figured out what he was, but you could remember every moment of falling in love with him.
In fact, he’d been the one to finally convince you to dump Steven. You’d neglected to tell him about the harassment that had followed, not wanting to get him all mixed up in your affairs but when your relationship developed you became nervous - you knew you’d have to tell him at one point or another. When it came to an end, it was a relief.
At least, you thought it was.
As another class came to an end, you exited the classroom with your friend, Raul, who was excitedly blabbing on about his plans for the next essay. You were only half listening, and your eyes wandered down the hall. You felt your blood run cold when you spotted Steven waiting by the exit route you usually took. You grabbed Raul’s arm and he came to a halt.
“Let’s take the other exit.” You said. Raul gave you a funny look.
“Is something wrong, (name)?” He asked. “You look white as a sheet.” You took in a deep breath.
“There’s just someone I’ve been trying to avoid over there.” You tugged him back in the direction of the other exit. It would mean more walking to get to your class, but you’d take that over Steven any way.
“Okay, okay,” He laughed nervously but allowed you to guide him. You weren’t sure if Steven saw you, but at that point you didn’t much care. Maybe if he saw you with Raul, he’d have the brains to keep away. Sure, despite his height and his muscles, Raul wouldn’t hurt a fly. But Steven didn’t know that.
“Oscar’s waiting for me in the cafeteria,” He told you. Oscar was his boyfriend. “Do you want to join us?”
“Can’t.” You sighed. “My next class starts in ten minutes.”
“Oh, then you better run.” Raul laughed. “Don’t want to miss Mr. Gibson’s lecture.” Raul had taken Mr. Gibson’s class last semester and would often listen to you rant on about it. And to be honest, a part of you couldn’t wait to get to the class. You weaved in and out of foot-traffic, head down as you texted Crowley, asking him to come pick you up. Typically you’d take the bus and then grab a taxi to Aziraphale’s shop, but you didn’t want to risk being stuck on public transport with Steven. Crowley texted you back almost immediately, saying to meet him out front when your class let out.
Your mind couldn’t help but wander during Mr. Gibson’s lecture. Typically you’d be able to at least scribble down a word here and there but all you could think of was the fear that Steven was waiting for you.
And he was. You didn’t notice him at first because he was unusually blended in with the crowd. It didn’t take you long to spot him, though, and your feet instinctively began to carry you a bit faster away. If there hadn’t been such a crowd flooding out of the classroom with you, you had no doubt he would have tried to make a scene - then make it look like you had started it. He was good at that kind of stuff, and it was another one of the many reasons you’d broken things off.
You were halfway to the meeting point with Crowley when he’d finally caught up with you. You tried to ignore him, each gentle call of your name. And you tried not to flinch at the more aggressive ones.
“Love,” He grabbed for your wrist, which you quickly yanked away, turning finally to face him.
“Don’t touch me.” You snapped at him. A few people nearby turned their heads, and you had to bite your tongue to keep from snapping at them as well. “Don’t call me that. I don’t want to talk to you, leave me alone.” You began walking again, and Steven followed.
“Love, c’mon I haven’t seen you in ages.” He didn’t make an attempt to grab you this time, to your relief. But he wasn’t slowing down. The cars were coming into view. A part of you hoped Crowley had decided to stand outside his car - the other part worried momentarily what might happen if he was.
“That’s why I broke up with you.” You were almost there. You began to walk a bit faster, but Steven sped up to keep pace.
“C’mon, I’ve learned my lesson, this really isn’t funny anymore.” To anyone, his tone would have sounded playful. But you knew better. He was seconds away from snapping, and that terrified you.
“You’re right, it’s not funny, so stop following me.” You all but spat. Just when you thought you were in the clear Steven seized your wrists and pulled you to him, face to face. “What the hell, let me go!” You cried out.
“Look at me,” He demanded. “Look at me.” You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. “Come on, love, let me see those pretty eyes-”
“Pardon me,” A wave of relief crashed over you when Crowley’s words hit your ears. “But I’m gonna have to ask you to get your hands off of my partner.” He said, and you could hear the low hiss in his voice.
“(Name), who the bloody hell is this?”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Crowley put an arm around your waist and pulled you away from Steven, who had fought to keep his hold on your wrists, but you jerked both arms back quickly. Steven was flabbergasted. “And who might you be?”
“My ex,” You mumbled, remembering that they had never met during your period of dating. “Steven.”
“How… How could you do this to me?” Steven put a hand over his heart. “We had something, and you’re gonna throw it away for this…” Steven stopped mid sentence as his gaze came back to Crowley.
“This what?” Crowley hissed. Steven said nothing. You could see a faint glow of red beneath Crowley’s sunglasses. “What am I, Steven?” Said man opened his mouth to speak, but found his throat dry. “That’s what I thought. Now, how about you go back to your normal, boring classes? And how about you start leaving (name) alone? Because if I ever hear you’ve bothered her again you’ll have much more to worry about than failing the semester.”
There was a split second between the end of Crowley’s words and Steven making a mad dash back towards campus. The red from behind Crowley’s glasses had yet to fade, and you took it upon yourself to calm him down. You took his hand gently, and his head snapped in your direction. You brought his hand up to your face, placing a gentle kiss to his palm before pressing your face into it. You nuzzled his hand for a moment before reaching up your other hand to caress his face. The red began to dull, and if the two of you hadn't been standing out there in the open you might have dared to try to remove his glasses. You would have to settle for gentle touches though, which you didn’t mind.
