Chapter 1: Cherish [cher·ish]: protect and care for (someone) lovingly
“Angel.” Crowley says, leaning over from his place above their bed and grabbing onto the blanket from where Zira had thrown it off to the side. “Please just say under the covers. You’re freezing–”
Aziraphale shakes his head, blinking up at his mate as the demon frowns. “No, no, my dear, I am perfectly fi–”
The angel cuts himself off with a hacking cough, his whole body jolting with the force and he nearly whimpers as his throat throbs from the constant abuse.
Angels, or any supernatural being to be honest, don’t normally get sick but Aziraphale seems to have been on Earth long enough that his immune system isn’t quite what it once was up in Heaven.
Crowley coos, leaning down and gently rubbing the blonde’s back as he finally regains his breath. Aziraphale sucks in a lung-full of air, choking a bit as he collapses back against the pillows.
“It’s okay, dove.” Crowley says, smoothing back Zira’s curls from his forehead. “Just breathe, alright.”
Aziraphale nods, pulling the covers further up his chin and swallows as his eyes fill with frustrated tears.
“I-I am very sorry that you have to deal with me in s-such a state, dearest.” The angel says, wincing as his throat scratches.
His husband just leans down and kisses his cheek with a sigh, gently cupping the trembling angel’s face in his warm hands.
“You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart.” Crowley says, rubbing his nose across the blonde’s jaw and pressing featherlight kisses against his skin. “Relax.”
The angel doesn’t respond, just closes his eyes and tries in vain to keep from coughing again as his chest constricts. Finally, however, he can’t keep it contained and his whole body shoots up as another round of coughing causes his lungs to ache.
“Shh. Shh, baby.” Crowley says, helping his mate sit up as he gags a little. “Just let it all out, shh.”
“It-It hurts.” Aziraphale gasps, whining a little.
“I know, my love, I know.” Crowley coos, voice strained. He gently begins rubbing his angel’s back in soothing circles, hating how Zira’s breathe wheezes. “I would take it all away if I could, I swear to you I would.”
Carefully climbing from their bed as Aziraphale finally calms down once more, the demon making soothing sounds under his breath when his mate reaches out toward him.
“I’m just going to get you a drink, sweetness. I’ll be back in just a minute.”
Snapping his fingers, the demon is gone in a pop and back again before Zira could even blink, holding a steaming cup of tea in one hand and an old, black t-shirt in the other.
“Sit up for me, honey.”
Compiling, Aziraphale gasps as his bottom-up shirt is snapped away, shivering in the chilly air. Before he could complain, however, Crowley is gently pulling the black shirt over his head and the angel nearly groans at how soft the fabric is against his achy, overheated skin.
Brining the shirt up to his nose, the blonde melts when he realizes that its his husband’s and he can’t keep himself from sniffling a bit, reaching over and pulling the frowning demon closer to him.
“Hold on, dove.” Crowley says, grabbing the still steaming cup and bringing it up to the angel’s mouth. “Take small sips, it’s hot.”
Taking a bit of tea into his mouth, the blonde closes his eyes as the hot liquid soothes his throat, a sigh of pleasure leaving him. Above him, Crowley smiles, his yellow eyes soft.
Finally, the angel finishes his drink, leaning into the soft touch that his laid against his cheek as his husband sets the cup down.
“Thank you s-so much–” Cutting himself off to cough, Aziraphale clears his throat as he leans back against the pillows once more. “–my dear.”
Crowley settles down beside his mate, gathering the angel against his chest and smiling gently when Zira nuzzles closer.
“It’s no problem, angel.” The demon says, pressing a sweet kiss against his husband’s forehead. “Just try and get some sleep right now alright? That should make you feel a shit tons better tomorrow.”
Aziraphale just yawns, shifting so that Crowley is curled around him, the demon’s legs trapping his own in a cocoon of warmth. He can feel Crowley sigh against his neck before his arms tighten around Aziraphale’s waist and the angel closes his eyes.
Chapter 2: Desire [de·sire]: strongly wish for or want
I just wanted to write some hubbies making out cause I was sad and needed something to cheer me up lol I hope yall enjoy the sin <3 <3
“My dear–” Aziraphale gasps as he stands up from his desk, eyes widening when Crowley practically sprints into the back room of the bookshop. “What’s wrong–oof!”
The demon crashes into him, grabbing onto the angel’s waist and smashes his mouth against his husband’s. Zira doesn’t resist, just takes the kiss with a muffled sound of confusion, leaning into Crowley.
The red-head growls against Aziraphale’s lips, his forked tongue exploring the wet expanse of the angel’s mouth as Zira gasps. Crowley pulls his husband closer, pulling the angel’s hips and grinding against him until Aziraphale has no choice but to submit.
Not that Aziraphale minds, though.
Pulling back with a pop, Crowley leans his head down and trails hot, open mouth kisses against the soft expanse of Zira’s jaw, pushing his nose against the angel’s skin. Aziraphale trembles, his legs nearly threatening to give out as heat pools in his stomach, turning his insides into mush.
“What–ah–What brought this on, my d-dear?” Zira asks, biting his kiss swollen lip as the demon nibbles at his skin, tilting his head to give his husband better access.
“I need a reason to kisssss my husband?” The red-head hisses, yellow eyes, pupils blown in desire, glance up at Aziraphale’s face before another, sharper bite against his pulse point causes the angel to moan.
“Well, uh, n-no but–”
Strong arms are suddenly lifting him up and the blonde lets out a small squeak of alarm as Crowley sets him on his desk, the extra height of the wood enabling the angel to stare directly into his mate’s yellow eyes.
The sight of them, not hidden behind the normal dark sunglasses, is enough to nearly undo the angel then and there.
“Then just enjoy it, darling.” Crowley drawls, reaching up to brush a curl from Aziraphale’s forehead, smiling gently. “Relax.”
Zira blows out a stream of air, letting his body droop just a bit as Crowley leans back in, pressing sweet kisses against his cheeks before moving down lower and biting at the angel’s neck again. Aziraphale groans at the sensation, goosebumps causing him to shiver as the demon’s sharp fangs graze his skin.
Taking a step in-between his husband’s legs, Cowley wraps his arms further around the blonde, licking a hot stripe up the angel’s neck as Aziraphale pulls him closer.
“So beautiful.” Crowley mutters into Zira’s ear, taking the soft skin into his teeth and tugging. “So lovely. My husband, my love. Mine.”
“Y-Yours.” Aziraphale breathes, gripping his husband’s arms tighter, feeling the lean muscle twitch under his fingers as the red-head finally gravitates back to his lips.
Their lips connect again, sending sparks flaring through the angel’s skin as Crowley leans him back, the cold desk a relief from the heat making his head spin.
The demon climbs so that he is straddling Azirapahle, his legs on either side of the blonde’s legs and his hands suddenly pinning the angel’s hands above his head.
Aziraphale moans even louder at that, eyes rolling and he groans out a mixture of Crowley’s name and a few, whimpered, swear words.
Soft hands gently pull at the shirt still tucked into the waist of his dress pants and Zira lifts his hips in response, allowing his mate to carefully pull the fabric out so that he has access to his hips. Finally, the fabric is torn away and Aziraphale gasps as the cool air slides over his now exposed sides.
Crowley lets out a pleased rumble against his angel’s lips at the feeling of Aziraphale’s smooth skin and Zira whimpers in response, pushing himself closer to his husband as much as the position will allow.
“Should we–ah, Crowley–Should be take t-this upstairs, darling?” Azirapahle asks, panting and nearly choking on a moan when his husband suddenly grinds against him.
Crowley nods, voice vibrating with a growl as he pulls his angel up, smiling when Zira wraps his legs around his waist. “I think that would be a great idea, dove.”
Their lips don’t part all the way up the stairs, both of them breathing each other in and not caring as the door to their bedroom slams shut with enough force that it rattles the whole floor.
Chapter 3: Assault [as·sault]: make a physical attack on
Takes place right after the "boyfriend in dark glasses" comment in 1x06.
So I thought of an alternate way this scene could have gone if Crowley and Aziraphale were already married when the show aired and I really wanted to write a little thingy about it lol I hope you enjoy! :D
Aziraphale frowns as Michael says this, watching as her dark eyes narrow further in distrust. The blonde angel shifts a bit, holding up a hand to stop the higher ranking angel from speaking further.
“H-Husband.” Aziraphale mutters, ducking his head as Michael takes a small step closer.
“What?” Sandalphon says from Aziraphale’s left and he glances over to see that the smaller man is frowning, his eyes blazing in anger.
“Uh, yeah well you see.” Aziraphale stumbles over his words, holding up his left hand and wiggling his fingers, his golden wedding band glistening in the afternoon sun. “Crowley and I are uh, are married, so your statement, Angel Michael, is um, f-false so–”
Aziraphale cuts himself off as Michael grabs at the front of his jacket, pushing him up against the brick behind him in a sudden show of strength and hostility. Lips curling in a snarl, the female angel gives him a firm shake, Aziraphale having to bite his lip to keep from gasping in pain as the wall digs into his back.
“Shut the fuck up.” She hisses. “Just shut up.”
Zira nods, not trusting himself to speak.
This is nothing like when Crowley would push him against the wall. Although rough, the demon does it in a form of love, of something thats uniquely there’s and Aziraphale would be lying if he said that he didn’t love it. The way his husband would hold him up, would tuck his arms around his waist and support the blonde’s weight as they kiss or just hold each other.
With Crowley it’s a sign of love and trust. With Michael, however, it’s anything but.
“You betrayed us, Aziraphale.” Michael says, breaking the blonde out of his thoughts. Her voice is filled with anger and judgement, like nails on a chalkboard. “You’re pathetic.”
Aziraphale frowns, squirming a little in her harsh grip as the other angel’s start to move closer. “I am no such thing–”
The fist Sandalphon shoves against his stomach is as unexpected as it is painful and Zira groans at the attack, doubling over. He gags, listening as the higher ranking angels laugh above him.
“If you think that hurt,” Uriel says somewhere to his right. “You are really not going to like what Gabriel has in store for you.”
Well, Aziraphale thinks as his coworkers finally leave, the pain in his gut increasing as he stands upright once more. He grimaces, reaching up to fix his bow-tie with shaking hands. Crowley is not going to be happy when he hears about this.
And his husband really really wasn’t.
Chapter 4: Vacillation [vas-uh-ley-shuh n]: to fear or self-doubt
Prompt by: @anon: Bit of an angsty headcanon here. It takes Crowley a while to get Aziraphale to admit when he's uncomfortable or hurt during sex because of the angel's self-esteem issues/he's more worried about Crowley's pleasure. One time, Crowley accidentally makes him bleed after being a bit too rough and they have to have a long cuddle and talk after. "Angel, sweetheart, I *need* you to tell me if I'm hurting you." And Aziraphale just alternates between apologizing and brushing off his own discomfort.
I hope you guys enjoy! :D
Disclaimer: I do not own Good Omens or any related material.
Aziraphale glances away, lowering his eyes when he feels Crowley’s grip tighten against his waist. His mate is scrawled across the bed, spooning the angel from behind, his yellow eyes deadly serious when Zira risks glancing up for a split second.
I-I don’t–” The blonde says, swallowing and barely holding back a wince when Crowley’s chest jolts in a soft growl. “I mean, darling, that, I uh, I’m sorry for-for–”
“For nothing!” Crowley interrupts, one hand reaching over to gently cup Aziraphale’s cheek, his other pulling his husband closer. “You’re sorry for nothing because you did nothing wrong, baby. I was the one who-who made you bleed for someone’s sake!”
Head snapping up at the pain echoing through his mate’s voice, Aziraphale shakes his head, his eyes widening.
“No, no Crowley, it’s fine! I asked you to be rougher.”
“Doesn’t matter.” The demon says, gritting his teeth. “I fucking hurt you, angel. That’s never fine. But I need you to tell me, Aziraphale, if I hurt you, alright? I never want something like this to happen again.”
Zira nods, frowning as he looks away again, the pure heat of his husband’s stare threatening to burn him to a crisp.
“What?” Crowley asks, his voice soft and oh so gentle that it nearly sends Aziraphale into subspace for the second time that night. “Dove, what’s going on in that beautiful mind, hmm?”
The angel shivers, hands shaking as he twists his fingers together, the sharp jabs of pain helping to keep him from sobbing. He jolts a bit, however, when familiar warm hands suddenly grab his own, pulling the twitching digits until the blonde has no choice but to surrender.
“I am not–” Cursing internally when his voice cracks, Aziraphale swallows, feeling Crowley shift impossibly closer in response. “–not use to-to my feelings being taken into consideration, is all, my dear.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Crowley coos, his face suddenly lighting up with understanding and he leans over, peppering sweet kisses all over his sub’s face. “You never have to worry about that with me, okay?”
Aziraphale leans into each gentle touch, melting like butter. “I know, Crowley, I know, trust me. It’s j-just so hard sometimes.”
Tugging on his mate until the blonde is nestled against his chest, the demon smoothes his lips over Aziraphale’s, feeling Zira sigh against his mouth.
“I know, love.” Crowley mumbles when they pull apart, cupping the sides of Aziraphale’s face, his palms warm. “But I’m gonna help you, alright? We can add another safeword and take it easy for a while, anything you need. I love you, more than anything in this entire universe, darling.”
Aziraphale blinks away tears, leaning in for another kiss just as Crowley shifts closer. “I love you too, my dear. More than you know.”
Chapter 5: Unwanted [un·want·ed]: not or no longer desired
Prompt by @anon: how do you think crowley would react if him and zira were out at like, a restaurant or bar and someone tried to grope inappropriately at zira? like maybe crowley goes off to the toilet and when he comes back someone's crowding zira and trying to flirt with and touch him despite zira's clear uncomfort with the situation and attempts to get away?
**TRIGGER WARNING FOR MINOR NON-CON**
I hope yall like this one and please let me know what you think! :D
Crowley can feel the anger ignite his skin, sending his bones aflame.
Crowley stalks over to the table, where he has left Aziraphale for a few seconds to grab an extra napkin, a snarl on his face and rips away the man from his husband, move so that he is in front of Aziraphale and towers over the fucker who was making his love so uncomfortable.
He growls low in his throat, baring his fangs and flashes his furious yellow eyes above his shades, watching as the human visibility trembles in terror. The demon licks his lips, savoring the bitter taste of fear radiating from the man. Grabbing the bastard’s shirt collar, Crowley leans down and hisses into his ear, his voice as cold as a winter’s day.
“You are going to back away from my husband,” Crowley says, tightening his grip on the fucker and feeling Aziraphale step closer to him with a whine. “You are going to turn the fuck around the walk out of here and not look back once. Otherwise, I will rip apart your throat and send you to a place where not even the devil himself can find you.”
The man nods, dark eyes glazed in primal fear before turning around and running out of the room, not looking back at all. Crowley smirks, taking a second to feel a quick rush of pride warm his chest, before he turns around and grabs Aziraphale, dragging his trembling husband into a tight embrace.
“It’s okay, dove.” The demon coos, snapping his fingers and suddenly they are in Zira’s bookshop, the smell of leather and melted wax stinging his nose. “It’s alright, I’m right here.”
“I said no.” Aziraphale says, his wet voice muffled from where he has his nose buried against Crowley’s neck. “I told him no an-and he kept trying to touch me.”
Crowley growls again, the sound rumbling his whole chest as he runs a possessive arm down his angel’s back. “Shh, love. He’s gone and he’ll never bother you again.”
Reaching down, the demon gently tilts his husband’s chin up, leaning down to capture Aziraphale’s sweet lips in a kiss. The angel sighs against his mouth, leaning further against him until Crowley has no choice but to bare all of his love’s weight.
The demon doesn’t mind in the slightest.
Pulling back, Crowley trails gentle kisses down Aziraphale’s neck and around his jaw, feeling the angel’s hold him tighter in response as he whines and moans, squirming a little.
Mine. Crowley thinks, gently nipping at the soft skin under Zira’s chin. My mate. My husband. My angel.
Chapter 6: Full [f-ull]: containing or holding as much or as many as possible; having no empty space
Prompt by @pan anon: Aziraphale has never imagined being railed against the coffee table in his book shop. Nuh uh, no he hasn't. Nor has he ever imagined recreating Crowley's infamous 'wrestling' statue. No siree, not him.
and yet, here he was. The feeling of Crowley against his back, the demon’s fingers digging into the soft, thick flesh of Aziraphale’s thighs causing the blonde to let out a groan. His husband, taking a second to lick a hot stripe up Zira’s neck, catches his lips in a searing kiss, his hands moving from the angel’s legs to gently grasp his waist.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard–” Crowley is whispering against Aziraphale’s lips, his breath hot against the blonde’s mouth as he grinds against him. “–that you won’t even be able to come into this room without thinking of me buried deep inside of you.”
Aziraphale lets out a low moan at that, rocking his ass back against his mate’s hips as the red-head growls.
“Would you like that, dove?” Crowley asks, maneuvering the angel so that Zira is nearly laying on top of his coffee table, the wood cool against his heated skin.
“Ah–y-yes, very much so–oh–darling.”
Crowley grin is wicked above him, his fangs gleaming as he leans down once more, taking the soft skin under the side of Aziraphale’s jaw in-between his teeth. The angel shivers at the sensation.
Chapter 7: Savior [sav·ior]: a person who saves someone or something (especially a country or cause) from danger, and who is regarded with the veneration of a religious figure.
Prompt by @anon: “i wont let them near you again” / “get your hands off my ___”
I hope you guys enjoy some possessive Crowley :D
When Crowley had walked into his husband’s bookshop one late afternoon, he was not expecting to be greeted by customers.
Especially not one who though they could touch his mate.
A man, a tall man with dark brown hair and long legs, is practically standing over Zira, the angel having to lean slightly to the side. His husband’s demeanor is a mix between situated politeness and borderline panic and Crowley feels a hot, possessive rage suddenly engulf him.
Get your hands off my mate.
Stalking over to where Aziraphale and the unknown human male were standing, Crowley lifts his lips in a snarl as he comes up behind Zira, wrapping his arms around his love’s waist and tugging the angel into his arms.
The hand that was sitting on his arm gets ripped away and the stunned human attached to it takes a step back in shock and slight fear.
“Oh!” Aziraphale says, mouth curling into a relived smile as he glances back to Crowley, his blue eyes twinkling. “Crowley, my dear, you startled me.”
“Sorry ‘bout that, angel.” The demon mutters, leaning down to gently trail a series of small, open mouth kisses against his husband’s neck. “Guess I’ll just have to make it up to you, huh?”
Shivering, Aziraphale shakes his head, a blush creeping down his face and causing the soft skin underneath Crowley mouth to warm.
“Crowley.” The angel gasps, sinking further against his mate’s body even as he attempts to step away. “Not right now. I-I’m with a customer.”
Eyeing the frozen human from above his shades, Crowley flashes the man a dark and twisted grin, his fangs glistening. The human lets out a squeak, stumbling back when Crowley lets out a low, warning growl.
“Uh, n-no, Mr. Fell. I am-am just leaving actually.” Clearing his throat, the unknown man begins to turn around, his face pale white and his dark eyes glazed over in terror.
“Now wait just a ssssecond.” Crowley hisses, snapping his fingers and causes the human to halt mid-stride. “I want to have a ssssmall chat before you leave.”
Reluctanly releasing his hold on his mate, Crowley pauses for just a second to tug Aziraphale’s chin up, smashing their mouths together and feeling the angel sigh into the kiss. His lips are sweet, a hint of lemon tea and jam and something purely Aziraphale, and Crowley nearly groans at the taste.
Finally, Crowley forces himself to pull back, smiling gently down at his mate as the blonde catches his breath. Pressing another, lighter kiss against Zira’s forehead after a second, the demon turns back toward the human.
Leaning down, Crowley hisses into the man’s ear, his voice sharp and growling in his rage.
“If you ever come near my husband again, if you touch him, look at him, or so much as even think about him, I will find you and I will bestow a faith upon you worse than death.”
Staring into the human’s eyes, Crowley allows his own demonic nature to push to the surface, feeling his serpentine pupils narrow into this slits and his fangs press against his bottom lip. The man lets out a gasp of pure feral terror and Crowley decides that he’s had enough of looking at him.
With a quick snap of Crowley’s fingers, the man is pushed from the shop with enough force that he stumbles into the street.
The heavy oak doors slam shut behind him and he is left on his ass in the middle of the deserted road, staring up at the darkened sky as he whole body shakes with fear.
Chapter 8: Nightmare [night·mare]: a frightening or unpleasant dream.
Prompt by @peribloke: ooooo maybe crowley saying “I won’t let anything happen to you, you’re safe with me” with zira being all panicky or having a bad flashback :”0? if you want !!
I hope ya'll enjoy! <3
Sitting up in bed, Aziraphale chokes on air.
He coughs, his entire body trembling and the blonde squeezes his eyes shut, feeling his husband jolt awake next to him. Suddenly, the bedside lamp is turned on and Aziraphale flinches as the light sends a burst of golden static behind his eyes.
“Angel?” Crowley whispers, carefully reaching over to rest a hesitant hand against his mate’s shivering back. “Aziraphale, dove, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Zira shakes his head, finally lifting his head and blinking up at Crowley, tears slipping free and sliding down his cheeks in waves. The demon’s frown, already pulling a deep crevasse into his forehead, becomes even deeper.
His yellow eyes, flickering between looking down at Aziraphale and around them for some unseen threat, are bright in worry and concern.
“S-S-Sorry, my dear.” The angel whispers, wincing as his voice drags against his throat. “Had a, uh, a little bit of a bad dream–”
Cutting himself off with a harsh sob, Aziraphale curls into himself, feeling the bed dip a little more as Crowley leans closer, carefully gathering his crying mate into his arms. The blonde sniffs, resting his cheek against his husband’s chest and breathes in.
The smell of Crowley, of something smokey and harsh, of warmth and safety and home, causes another round of tears to bubble up from Azirphale’s chest.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Crowley coos above him, the sound vibrating against Zira’s cheek “Oh, my love, my darling, shh. I won’t let anything happen to you, you’re safe with me. Shh, dove.”
Aziraphale just nods, snuggling closer to the demon and feels Crowley hold him tighter in response, laying multiple, soft kisses against his forehead and temples.
Chapter 9: Rage [r-age]: violent, uncontrollable anger.
Prompt by @anon: "You'll touch them again and I'll kill you"
Crowley crouches above his mate, baring his fangs as Gabriel takes a stumbling step back. The archangel’s pristine suit is splattered with golden blood, the gray tinged darker in wet spheres.
Crowley snarls, his rage igniting the air and sending literal sparks zapping through the hot atmosphere. Below his protective stance, the demon feels his husband latch a trembling and weak hand against his leg, the blonde’s blunt nails digging into his skin.
“C-Crowley?” Zira whimpers, his voice ragged and nearly gone from screaming.
Crowley silently reaches down, not tearing his gaze away from the other angels still standing a few feet away. Blindly, he gropes until his fingers come into contact with his love’s face, twisting his wrist so that he can gently cup Aziraphale’s cheek.
Zira leans into the touch, his whole body sagging.
The tear tracks and dried blood Crowley feels etched into his mate’s skin nearly causes the demon to loose control completely right then and there.
Sucking in a breath, Crowley summons every single last ounce of strength in his celestial body, and forces himself to keep still. To not jump across the remaining few feet and rip Gabe apart, to feel the bastard’s skin tear and for his blood to sink into the cracks in the ground.
Instead, Crowley stands up straighter, gently mrauvering Zira so that his mate is nestled in his arms, feeling the blonde angel let out a whine of pain. Gently shushing him, Crowley takes a second to stretch his wings out, watching as his midnight feathers brush against the low ceiling.
Gabriel, his jade eyes cold, hasn’t said a single word and Crowley can feel his self control begin to fall once more at the smug smirk still in place on the bastard’s face.
“You touch him again.” Crowley hisses, “And I will kill you.”
Then he’s lifting both him and his husband into the air, soaring through the air with the grace and speed of an owl. Aziraphale snuggles closer, his body shivering against his mate’s chest and Crowley coos, adjusting his grip on the blonde so that he can lean down.
He presses his lips against Zira’s forehead just as they burst back into the mortal world, London a tiny speck below them.
Chapter 10: Exquisite [ex·quis·ite]: extremely beautiful and, typically, delicate
Prompt by @anon: aziraphale starts having body image issues so crowley lays him down in bed and fucks him slow and sweet while kissing every bit of him and telling him how good he feels
I hope ya'll enjoy! :D
“Sssssso good, baby.” Crowley hisses, pulling almost completely out of his mate before thrusting back into the angel’s warm and perfect heat, feeling Aziraphale’s walls tighten around him. “Sssso perfect and beautiful. All mine.”
“O-Oh, Crowley.” The blonde moans under him, his blue eyes squinted in pleasure as he rolls his hips backwards into each of Crowley’s thrusts. “Please, please.”
“You’re so wonderful, dove.” Crowley responds, tightening his hold on his husband’s waist as he drags his tongue down the angel’s quivering throat, tasting the creamy skin. “My love. My whole world, my universe, mine o-oh–”
“Please. My dear, please.” Aziraphale whimpers. “Oh, please do-don’t stop.”
Increasing his speed a little, the demon can feel his own release fast approaching, a sizzling bust of static filling his head as Aziraphale continues to whine into each hot kiss the red-head presses against his mouth and neck.
“Beautiful. Gorgeous. Lovely. ”
Crowley punctuates each word with a harder thrust, pressing his husband against the mattress and feels Aziraphale shudder, his cries increasing in pitch and volume.
Shifting a bit, Crowley angles the snap of his hips, finally hitting that one sweet spot that has Zira screaming into the pillow, the sound of his mate’s unwarranted pleasure sending the demon over the edge.
He growls as he comes, filling up a panting Aziraphale as the angel weakly pushes his ass back into Crowley’s dick, overworking the sensitive muscle with small, pulsing clenches.
Finally, Crowley forces himself to pull out, the small whine of loss Zira lets out causing his heart to stutter in his chest. Making soothing sounds under his breathe, the red-head carefully gathers the still limp angel into his arms.
He turns them around so that they are spooning, Aziraphale’s head resting against his chest. Running a tired hand through his mate’s soft curls, Crowley smiles gently down at the blonde, cooing when Aziraphale blinks up at him through his lashes, his blue eyes glazed over in exhaustion and love.
“Thank you.” The angel says, accepting the tired kiss his husband lays against his bruised and red lips.
“I love you.” Crowley whispers in response, pulling Aziraphale closer and wrapping a gentle arm around his waist. “More than every single star combined.”
Zira sighs happily. “I love you too, darling.”
Chapter 11: Bite [bīt]: (of a person or animal) use the teeth to cut into something
P O R N
that's all this is, enjoy!
“Oh no angel.” Crowley hisses from where he’s leaned over Aziraphale, the feeling of his hot skin against the blonde’s sending sparks down Aziraphale’s spine. “Looks like you got bit by a sssssnake.”
“Wha—“ The angel starts to ask, turning his head to glance behind him but a sudden hand against the back of his neck stops him and he whimpers.
“Oh no no no, my dove.” Crowley says, the words soft as he grips his husband’s hips tighter, feeling Aziraphale’s soft skin give way beneath his firm hands. “Let me.”
“O-Oh Crowley, please."
Crowley shushes him, pressing a gentle kiss against his spine before his lips move lower and the angel jerks, a low whine straining from the back of his throat. Crowley smiles against his skin, grazing his fangs over Aziraphale’s wet hole.
“Yes, my beautiful mate, it would seem that a big bad sssssnake has bitten you right here—“ Crowley licks a hot stripe down Aziraphale’s ass, feeling his husband shiver, his hole flexing as he wiggles. Crowley lets out a low growl at the sight, drawling his mate impossibly closer.
“I think we might need to ssssuck the venom out.” Crowley says, not giving his husband a chance to respond before he leaning forward and sucking, his lips curving around Aziraphale’s hole.
The angel shrieks in pleasure and Crowley grins.
Chapter 12: Radiant [ra·di·ant]: sending out light; shining or glowing brightly.
soft hubby Crowley is soft
The way that the early morning light hits Aziraphale’s curls is one of the most beautiful sights Crowley has ever seen in his long life.
The angel’s hair glows in a flame, a halo of gold that stretches from temple to temple.
His husband is stretched across the bed beside him, his head buried into the demon’s chest and his legs tangled in the sheets. Crowley sighs a bit as he shifts them, reaching down to gently brush Aziraphale’s hair from his forehead, marveling at the softness of the strands as they glide through his fingers.
His heart aches.
Do you even know? Crowley thinks, leaning forward and pressing his lips against his mate’s temple. Can you even comprehend the amount of love I feel for you, my darling?
As though sensing Crowley’s unspoken question, the angel mutters in his sleep, nuzzling closer and tightening his hold on his husband’s arm. His lips part, his nose whistling as he sniffs and Crowley smiles.
The demon tugs his husband closer, wrapping Aziraphale up in his arms as tightly as possible. Tears prick at the corner of his eyes but Crowley blinks them away, not wanting anything to get in the way of the pure heavenly view settling below his chin.
You are loved and cherished more than you even know, dove.
Chapter 13: Perception [per·cep·tion]: a way of regarding, understanding, or interpreting something; a mental impression.
I dont even know what this is lajksdfjk enjoy XD
“Did you know--” Crowley turns toward his husband as the angel follows him toward the duck pond, tilting his chin down so that Aziraphale knows he’s listening. “--that your eyes get darker when you get angry?”
Crowley raises his eyebrows, not expecting the question. “Oh, really?”
Aziraphale nods. “Yes, I thought maybe you knew--”
The demon hissed, the air pushing from between his teeth. “Don’t like to think about my eyes much, dove. Lotta bad memories there.”
“Oh,” Aziraphale nods, swallowing and Crowley tightens his grip on his hand, squeezing to show that he’s not angry. “Right, I’m sorry, dear.”
“Naw, you don’t have anything to be sorry for, love. Why do you ask?”
Crowley stops them near the bench, sitting down and tugging a still frowning Aziraphale closer. The angel sinks against him, and Crowley’s chest tightens at the feeling of his warmth nestled against his side.
“Well,” Aziraphale begins, hesitating slightly and Crowley hums under his breath, pressing a quick kiss against his husband’s cheek to help soothe his nerves. “When w-we were eating dinner the other night, your eyes--”
“I had my sunglasses on the whole time, angel.” Crowley cuts his husband off, waving one hand in the air in-front of them. “How the bloody hell did you see my eyes from across the table?”
“Oh, my dear, I always know what your eyes look like.” Aziraphale says, smiling up at the demon and Crowley nearly melts on the spot. “Anyways, while we were eating, you seemed agitated. More so than normal, I mean, and-and whenever the waiter would come near, you just got s-so--”
“--Jealous.” Aziraphale finishes with a sigh, letting out a small chuckle when Crowley just gawks down at him. “You really don’t hide your emotions from me very well, darling.”
“I don’t try too.” Crowley says immediately, pulling his still giggling mate closer and gently booping him on the nose, elighting another laugh from the blonde and a grin from Crowley. “Now what does this have to do with my eyes, you silly angel.”
“Yes, yes I’m getting there!” Aziraphale huffs, rolling his own eyes and Crowley just pokes him again. “When the waiter would approach us or, lord forbid, talked to me--”
“He was flirting with you, dove.”
Crowley nearly growls, feeling the past anger returning as he thinks of the way that sleazy human was drooling over his husband as though Crowley hadn’t been sitting right there. “I mean, the way he looked at you--”
“He was just a nice young man.” Zira says, his blue eyes earnest and Crowley just tugs him closer, growling possessive under his breath. “But your eyes, my dear, they got so much darker under your glasses.”
Crowley doesn’t have a response to that, instead he just makes a sort of humming sound, ears metaphorically perking up at the desire he can hear in the undertones of his mate’s voice.
The breathlessness to Aziraphale’s words, the way he shifted against the hard wood underneath them and blinked up at Crowley with wide eyes makes the demon nearly fall over with lust.
“Oh really now?” Crowley hisses, discreetly snapping his fingers and sending the world around them to a quick halt. He doesn’t miss the way Aziraphale shivers at his words. “And tell me, my dove, jussssst what did they look like?”
Aziraphale’s brows draw together as he thinks. Crowley spends the next few seconds of silence drawing his husband closer, beginning to press hot, open mouthed kisses against the expanse of the angel’s neck and jaw. Aziraphale whimpers, tilting his head to allow Crowley better access and the red-head growls in approval.
“Like f-fire.” Aziraphale finally manages to gasp out, reaching up to grip Crowley as the demon pulls him into his lap. “Your eyes looked like fire, my d-dear --oh--”
Crowley hisses, gripping his wiggling husband’s hips tighter as the blonde begins to grind down against him.
“--And I w-want your stare branded into my very skin.”
Crowley snarls at the words, pressing his hips more firmly against his mate’s and dragging the angel into a deep kiss, his tongue exploring the hot expanse of Aziraphale’s mouth as the latter quivers below him.
Chapter 14: Hold [h-old]: grasp, carry, or support with one's arms or hands.
Prompt from @Anon: Crowley trailing kisses from the heel of Aziraphale's hand down the inside of his wrist, until he can't get any further with Aziraphale's sleeve in the way. Aziraphale's breath hitching, his knees going weak.
I am sOFT
“What are you—ah—doing, dearest?” Azirapahle asks once his husband has moved on to his other wrist, the skin tingling.
Crowley smiles up at him, his yellow eyes wide in adoration and mirth. “Kisssssing you, angel.”
“Yes, I can see that,” Aziraphale says, giving a full-body shiver when the demon gently nips at the sensitive skin below his thumb. “But w-why?”
“These hands have held my heart in them for so long,” The red-head flips Aziraphale’s wrist over, pressing a long kiss against the angel’s palm. “I figured it was about time I showed my gratitude.”
Chapter 15: Evade [e·vade]: escape or avoid, especially by cleverness or trickery.
Just a little headcanon/blurb I thought of while eating a sandwich XD I hope yall enjoy!
**TRIGGER WARNING: TALK OF DEATH/DYING**
Crowley and Aziraphale know this. They have seen–had mourned– some of the best of them, after all, and had celebrated the deaths of the worst with long nights of drinking and dancing.
Their own celestial bodies don’t die. Don’t age and grow old and wrinkle before they finally exhale a last, wheezing breath and are placed underneath tight packed Earth.
But, because they are among a human world and such practices are normal, as natural as breathing, they have to take necessary action to not arouse suspition from the morals around them.
It was Aziraphale who first suggested the idea, surprisingly, during a blistering summer in 1504. Had rattled on about some dairy maid down the lane, how she was whispering about them to her husband, about the “strange men with eyes who appear to see all the way up to God.”
Crowley had laughed a bit harder than he probably should have, at that line.
Nevertheless, the demon had agreed, reaching over to gently brush his fingertips across the tight, jacket covered muscles of his angel’s shoulders, pretending not to notice the way Aziraphale leaned into the touch, just a little bit.
In a few years. They had agreed. It must be done, but carefully.
They had placed their own tombstones along a riverbed not far from town.
The rocks–for that was all they were really, just oversized and glorified rocks–sank into the loose soil. The sound of the water a few yards away washes over the two of them, their unnecessary breathes fogging the early morning air.
Well, Aziraphale had said after a few seconds, brushing invisible dirt from his cream trench coat. His eyes, as blue as the brightening sky above them, dart up to look into the darkness of Crowley’s glasses. That’s that.
Crowley echoed his angel’s statement, both staring at the stones, at the jagged edges of both their names sunken into the rock, before he gently takes Aziraphale by the elbow and both of them walk carefully and silently back up the hill.
They leave that town a few days later.
Chapter 16: Homerun [home-run]: a fair hit that allows the batter to make a complete circuit of the bases without stopping and score a run.
Prompt by @just-katsumi: Dude it's been raining so hard where I am and I just cannot stop thinking about the ineffable hubbies curled up on the couch during a rainstorm in Soho, a fluffly blanket draped around them, with Zira reading to Crowley and they're near a cozy fire and Crowley's stroking Zira's floofy hair and uuuuuuugh it's so domestic and fluffy and won't leave my head until this rain stops 😫😫😍😍
THIS WAS TOO SOFT FOR ME NOT TO WRITE ABOUT OKAY LASJDFLKA SO SOFT AND CUTE AND YES :D based on the idea that thunder is the sound of angels playing baseball
A boom of thunder shakes the walls of their cabin, but both angel and demon pay it no mind. They shift closer, Crowley reaching over to gently press his lips against his husband’s forehead, feeling Aziraphale sigh and sink further against him.
Another crash of thunder echos throughout the fields around their home and Aziraphale takes a quick glance outside, his reading glasses reflecting the brief flashes of lightning zipping across the blackened sky.
“Michael must have scored another Homerun.” He hums, turning the page in his book as Crowley snorts. “Gabriel will never hear the end of it, I’m sure.”
“You ever play, dove?” The red-head asks, grinning when Aziraphale laughs.
“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale shifts on the couch, the leather squeaking. “I could out-play Michael even on a bad day.”
Crackling, Crowley reaches over to gently poke at the simmering fire, the warmth soaking into his bones. Aziraphale lays back against him once the demon get the coals going again, resting his head sweetly against his mate’s chest as the rain continues to pound outside.
“Now, let me finish the chapter, darling, before we start dinner.”
Crowley kisses his cheek, his golden eyes soft. “Of course, love.”
Chapter 17: Hesitation [hes·i·ta·tion]: the action of pausing or hesitating before saying or doing something.
Prompt by @anon: HI I LOVE YOU, YOUR WRITING AND THAT YOU HAVE THE SAME SOFTNESS FOR D/S FLUFF AS ME!!! ❤ no preassure to get this done quickly or anything, but i am craving a short and sweet lil fic where things start to get steamy between the husbands but then Azi gets uneasy and so they end up cuddling and Crowley is reassuring and comforting towards his sub. It doesn't have to be long, just something short and sweet would make my day so much 💖 again i love you ❤
This gets kinda steamy but then fluffy XD I hope you enjoy! :D
“Gonna make you feel so good, darling. You’re so beautiful.” Crowley coos from where he is straddling his submissive, the feeling of Aziraphale’s thighs pressing against his legs nearly undoing him then and there. “Gonna mark y-you up so everyone knows you’re mine.”
Aziraphale moans, tilting his head to the side and reaching up to grip at the hard muscles along his mate’s arms. Crowley hisses in pleasure at the feeling, nipping along the blonde’s neck.
“You always m-make me feel good, sir.” Aziraphale breathes, shifting and feeling Crowley thrust down against him.
“I’m the only one–” Crowley pants, annotating his words with a sharp bite against his mate’s collarbone, Aziraphale gasping in a mixture of pain and pleasure. “–the only one allowed to do this to you, to sssee you like this, dove.”
Aziraphale sobs. “Yes, only-only you, Crowley. Always.”
The sudden tears that spring to Aziraphale’s eyes surprises the angel almost as much as Crowley.
The Dom immediately slides from off of his mate, cupping Aziraphale’s soft cheeks in his warm palms. His golden eyes search Aziraphale’s, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that are now sliding down the blonde’s face.
“Aziraphale?” Crowley whispers. “Baby, are you alright? Did I hurt you at all?”
Aziraphale shakes his head, leaning further against his husband’s gentle touch. “No, no, not at all, my dear. Just got emotional is all. We don’t have to stop, sir.”
Crowley gives a small, confused laugh. “I’m not going to ravish you if you’re crying, love. That’s not fun for me or for you.”
Aziraphale blushes, reaching out to pull his mate back in. “We really don’t have to stop though, Crowley–”
The command, deep and vibrating, sinks into Aziraphale’s skin and the submissive lays back against the pillows with a small whine. Above him, Crowley’s face is sat in a firm line, but his eyes are soft and he leans down to press a sweet kiss against Aziraphale’s temple.
“No,” He says again once he pulls back, laying down so that he is spooned up behind his husband. “I don’t want to continue right now, angel, not if you’re upset. I love you too much to see you cry.”
Aziraphale sinks against him with a nearly silent sigh, feeling Crowley’s arm tighten around his waist. “I love you too, dear.”
They spend the next few hours cuddling, just breathing each other in, Crowley safe in the fact that Aziraphale is in his arms and Aziraphale safe in that fact that he’s wrapped up in Crowley’s arms.
Chapter 18: Temptation [temp·ta·tion]: the desire to do something, especially something wrong or unwise.
Prompt by @walkingtrashwithanxiety: Simple idea, Crowley can barely keep is hands off Aziraphale, for multiple reasons, and Azriaphale pretends to get annoyed by it. In reality he can't get enough either.
soft and sexy hell yeah ;D
“Crowley, my dear,” Aziraphale gasps, leaning back more fully in his chair as his husband’s arms slink around the back of it, rubbing a line down the angel’s chest that the blonde can’t help but arch into. “I’m trying t-to read.”
Crowley’s voice, smooth and deep and dripping with promises, vibrates against Aziraphale’s neck as the demon brings his mouth down, to nose along the sensitive skin.
“I’m thinking of something elssse you could be doing, dove.” Crowley hisses, nipping at the soft skin under Aziraphale’s jawline and the blonde moans. “Ssssomething more fun for the both of us, hmm?”
Aziraphale whines, gripping his book so tightly that the paper crinkles.
“But–oh–but I wanted to finish the chapter–”
Crowley’s tongue, wet and warm and oh so good, curls around the shell of the angel’s ear, twisting around so that Crowley can kiss along his temples and around his eyes, his own yellow gaze hot with adoration and lust.
“Let me tempt you then, my angel.” Crowley whispers, breathing the words against Aziraphale’s red-tinged cheeks.
Turning around so fast that his book flies off his lap, Aziraphale suddenly grabs the labels of his husband’s black jacket, pulling the demon so that Crowley has no choice but to basically fall into him.
“Temptation–” Aziraphale moans, tilting his head and feeling Crowley growl in response against his throat. “–accomplished.”
Chapter 19: Sacrifice [sac·ri·fice]: an act of slaughtering an animal or person or surrendering a possession as an offering to God or to a divine or supernatural figure.
Prompt by @anon: Crowley turning into his demonic form to protect Aziraphale from Cultists who want to sacrifice him! and by @luna-the-soul-slayer who told me to expand on the prompt XD
Okay so the first bit of this is gonna sound weird because I wasn't expecting to actually expand on the ask so enjoy my ramblings lol <3
the first part before the second time line is the first part of the ask where I ramble btw
bro Crowley would FUCKING FUCK SOME SHIT UP YOOO he would literally take NO SHIT
like his eyes would glow and his fangs would be 3 inches long and he would hiss, standing above his mate, snarling, completely feral, spitting venom and everything.
the air around him becoming so cold and dry that ice begins to build up around his feet, the now dead grass snapping beneath his feet as his tail whips around his legs in rage, his whole frame trembling with his fury, his midnight wings crawling up the sky, making him seem even bigger and powerful and he growls.
“You will not–,” Crowley’s voice is almost unrecognizable, all bass and growl, his fangs gleaming in the light of the bonfire around them. “–touch my mate again.”
“Begon, demon.” One man foolishly shouts, arm trembling as he raises a rusty pitchfork in Crowley’s direction, taking a small step closer as the others around him shiver in terror. “Leave us.”
Crowley snarls, curling his body further around his mate, turning the chains and ropes holding Aziraphale to the pole into nothing more than ashes and cinder.
He gathers his angel to his chest, a soft coo rumbling his throat when the blonde leans into his touch with a weak groan.
The crowd of humans all collectively stumble back when Crowley stands, rising to his full height and pushing his wings upwards, the midnight black stretching into the heat filled air.
His red hair is flames, his body smoke.
“If you insist.”
Then he’s off, pushing into the sky with one mighty flap of his wings, taking a second to glance down at the screaming mortals below before pressing a searing kiss against his husband’s forehead and flying them off to the safety of the bookshop.