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avocado-writing · 9 months

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Hey 👋🏻 i just finished rewatching both seasons of good omens 🥲 can i request an ineffable husbands x r with an established relationship? after a night out they go back to the bookshop and r is pissed drunk so aziraphale and crowley tries to help them get comfortable and get settled but r keeps saying “back off i have partners.” and things like that because they’re too drunk to recognize the two which amuses them both. i read something similar online and thought it would be funny with the husbands. thank you so much ❤️

notes: put this once again in tltdatsib, hope that's ok! also yall: anyway nightingale is drunk / me: YES lmfao

pairing: crowley x reader x aziraphale

rating: T

notes: excessive alcohol consumption; gn reader but one reference to them being a primadonna; tltdatsib-verse

You’re all quite drunk.

The three of you are all impartial to a glass of wine or six after a nice day. Usually you can hold your liquor quite well, but you underestimated the vintage, and now you’re absolutely off your face. Crowley and Aziraphale are happy to sober up the miraculous way, the alcohol returning to its bottle, but you absolutely despise it happening to you and they’d never do it without your permission. So there you are, head-lollingly, body-flailingly drunk on the sofa in the back of the bookshop.

“Come on love, let’s get you to bed,” Crowley says, attempting to heave you into his arms. You push him away and make a low noise in the back of his throat.

“Did… did you just growl at me?” he asks, both delighted and bemused; torn between actually trying to help you or recording this on his phone so that he can tease you mercilessly tomorrow.

"My love - " begins Aziraphale, but you glare at him the best you can while barely being able to hold your head up.

“Oi! Back ‘ff sunshine,” you say, holding your hand up and wiggling your fingers, “‘m married! My husbands—spousesssss—won’t be too happy ‘f you chat me up!”

Aziraphale and Crowley exchange a look. You’ve not been this drunk since the three of you were invited to the Diamond Dogs release party in the seventies. Your hangover had lasted a week.

“Darling,” says Aziraphale with a patient sigh, “we’re your husbands… spouses… oh, look, it’s us!”

"No-oo-oo! Lies! Won't be taken in by handsome strangerssss!" you cry, a primadonna of a show only you can see. You try to launch yourself across the couch for safety but get your foot stuck between two seat cushions.

"'Handsome', eh?" Crowely asks, grinning very wide indeed.

"Yessss, handsome! Very! But 'm TAKEN."

Aziraphale sighs, both wanting this charade to be over and charmed that even when you're too blotto to recognise them, you still find your husbands attractive.

"Look, let me show you proof, darling."

You squint, suspiciously.

“Eh?”

Aziraphale reaches into his coat pocket to bring out his wallet. It has no cards or cash, nothing that one would actually need a wallet for - but he keeps it for one very particular reason.

He flips open the leather and holds it out for you to inspect. It has a photo in it: a polaroid, taken for you by a kind passerby on the day of your wedding. It’s of the three of you, arms around each other, all smiling the widest in any photo where you are the subjects. You take it from his hands, scrutinise it, then cringe.

“Oh god, ‘m ‘n idiot…”

You collapse back into the sofa, letting your arm remain in its place so Aziraphale can take the precious wallet back safely.

"It's alright nightingale. You're just a bit tipsy is all, my love."

"You're so kind to me even when 'm bein' silly..."

"For better for worse. For drunker, for sober...er," Crowley reasons.

“Should go t’ sleep…” you mutter, and before they can help you up, you turn over to face the pile of pillows and immediately make good on that threat. They cover you with a blanket, and Crowley does tease you the next morning.

@angiestopit @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster @lxsm2 @clarina04 @wtfhasmy-lifecometo @mrgatotortuga @wereallbrokenangels @night-affiliate @silcosmoke @kimqueenofhell @chewbrry @bajablast23 @h3k3t @am-i-obsessed---maybe @bakerstreethound

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #ineffable husbands x reader #good omens x reader #request #fic: the light the dark and the spaces inbetween

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ourlittlesecretokay · 6 years

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Would love to see 'dance with me' or 'are you drunk'

SurpRIsE I combined them!

'Dance with me'

'Are you drunk'

“Come here. Here,” letting the needle drop, he waved her over sloppily, grabbing at her as the side b of the record began to play.

“Yes? You need something?”

Lollingly, he took her hand, kissing her fingers as he circled an arm behind her back, “I need you to come here.”

“I’m already here.”

“Come dance with me.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Does it matter?” More smoothly than he ought to be, he began to two-step her around the room.

“What did you get into?”

“Shhhhh,” he shushed her, gently shaking his head, “it doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you won’t share.”

“Shh shh shh. Nice moment. Enjoy it.” More tender than his sober self would ever dare to be, he pulled her closer, kissing her temple, rocking her slowly side to side. Sighing, she smiled, letting her head rest against his shoulder.

“If you’re hiding the liquor, I’ll find it.”

Amused, he snorted, “Good luck. You’re not tall enough.”

“We’ll see.”

“Short wife. So small. Little Violet.”

“You’re in an unusually good mood tonight.”

“We’re celebrating, Darling. Everything went perfectly to plan.” Leaning down, he kissed her lips, “You are married to a very talented and powerful man, you know.”

“I’m married to a very drunk man.”

“It’s a celebration!” Switching direction, he gripped her waist, lifting her up into the air. She laughed, holding onto his shoulders as he spun her in a tight circle.

“Well forgive me for not realizing it was a party.”

“You are forgiven.” Missing her sarcasm entirely, he kissed her, bending her backwards into a shallow dip.

“So gracious. Now,” sliding her hands from his neck to his shoulders, she pat his bicep lightly, “where’s the liquor?”

“Top cabinet where you cannot reach it.”

“Alright. Hey, completely unrelated question, do you by chance want to go to the kitchen?”

“Not until you dance with me.” Taking her hand again, he began to lead her in a slow waltz.

“Fine. Until the end of the song.”

“Until the end of the record.”

“End of the song, then a kitchen break, then we finish the record.”

“Deal,” feeling quite satisfied, he smirked, kissing her once again, determined to get everything he could out of of the song. It was a good night.

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