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Summary
“I need you,” Aziraphale pleaded, eyes welling and face twisted with pain. Crowley growled lowly and tossed his head. God and Heaven could shove their pristine feathers up their arse and leave him the fuck alone, but Aziraphale. He couldn’t do that to Aziraphale. The last thing he wanted was to go back to being their puppet but damn it.
No one has written a "what if Crowley agreed" fic yet, and I decided to correct that.
