SlimePuppies
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Summary
“Just get in the bed, Aziraphale, it’s bloody freezing.”
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They share a bed and Aziraphale takes liberties he never thought he was capable of.
prompt fill for somnophilia
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Summary
Crowley makes a joke, while out at dinner, and the angel reacts very poorly.
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and in the ripe evening i wanted to be a nightingale by wizardlover
Fandoms: Good Omens (TV)
14 Aug 2023
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Summary
“Crowley.”
“Angel.”
“What's wrong?”
Crowley fidgets. “You can be really annoying sometimes, you know that." Aziraphale holds his silence. “I’m not… hurt.”
“But you,” Aziraphale starts, then bites his lip. “You keep… flinching. Is it—has it always…?”
“What?” Crowley’s face is really so lovingly expressive. “No! No, you—you’re fine. It’s me.”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale says, exasperated, “explain.”
“I, er, drank some poison. On accident.”
“Oh! You should have told me earlier! What is it—do you need—“
“Aziraphale. I’m not dying. But I,” and he swallows, and falls silent again.
“Would you like me to guess?”
“No! How would that be helpful? No.”
“Well what is it then?”
Crowley grumbles something. Aziraphale is quickly coming to the end of his very, very long, almost endless patience—he steps forward and grabs Crowley’s wrist and Crowley makes a noise.
It all goes very still. Aziraphale stays frozen in place, staring at Crowley with wide eyes.
“Are you,” he starts.
“You’re not hurting me,” Crowley mumbles, his face in his hands. Aziraphale makes an inquisitive noise. “I said, you’re not hurting me.”
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Summary
The world didn’t end and they didn’t die so he and Aziraphale got lunch. A celebration between two old friends. The oldest of friends really. And then lunch—like most things—did end and even if Aziraphale could have seen Crowley’s pleading expression behind his glasses, it probably wouldn’t have mattered because they parted ways at the door and Crowley said, “I’ll, er, see you around then?”
It was as innocuous a phrase as a phrase could be. No ‘come back to mine’ or ‘sorry I asked you to run away with me but I also sort of meant it.’ But Aziraphale only waved briefly as he walked away, leaving Crowley on the sidewalk feeling as if the rug had been pulled out from under him.
Why would they see each other?
They didn’t have assignments to discuss, favors to trade. What was left if they weren’t really an angel or really a demon?
aka Aziraphale is repressed, Crowley is not, and they do their best fumbling through it.
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Summary
Aziraphale’s spent the last three months at the bottom of a bottle, heartbroken. Tracy says his heart will mend itself eventually, but every morning when he wakes up it's like the edges of the piece he ripped out and took with him have gone more ragged.
Where he keeps waking up probably isn't helping matters.