Various x Ftm Reader

Bad Hair Day ||Azriaphale x Crowley x Reader||

Requested by randomaccount736 

Reader with long hair 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were laying across the sofa in the bookshop, your head resting on the arm, while your feet were stretched out as far as possible. There was a small table across from you with a pile of books, and a warm cup of cocoa cluttered on top of it, just barely in reach.

Normally it felt nice to be like this—you could hear the faint sounds of traffic outside the shop, and the faint sounds of chattering as people passed by. Of course, there was the creak of people wandering throughout the bookshop, and Aziraphale's comings and goings as he worked.

What also normally felt nice was the feeling of your long hair spilling over the edge of the sofa. But now, you tried to contain it as much as possible. You were used to a few people staring, sure—someone looking a little too long before quickly looking away, but you were comfortable with it. You were comfortable with your hair the way it was—you were proud of it, you took care of it. You didn't feel the need to change it.

But for some reason, it had just gotten to you today. Or something had, because you found yourself trying to burrow into the sofa and hide from the world.

You waited until there weren't many people left in the shop for you to close your eyes, still trying to conceal the length of your hair amongst the plushiness.

Several minutes passed before you heard the familiar chime of the bell above the door. You could tell who it was by the way the door swung open, and footsteps sauntering in before you heard his voice.

"Hello, Angel." His voice drew out the greeting before he followed it with your nickname.

"Hello dear, I'm afraid he's not in the best mood right now, so he may not reply to you." Aziraphale explained softly.

"Oh, really?" Crowley's tone stayed the same as he walked over to the sofa. You could feel the dip in the material as he leaned against it. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing." You mumbled.

"Really? So you're taking up the whole sofa for no reason?"

You sighed, and sat up. "It's nothing, really. I'll feel better about it in a bit."

"Come on, just tell us." Crowley pressed, knowing you would find it difficult to say no after a while. Over time, he had found a way to wear you down until he didn't need to beg as much anymore.

"It's really nothing, it's just my hair."

Aziraphale frowned, looking over at you. "But you like your hair."

"Usually I do, yeah. But...I don't know. Right now I just...I guess it makes me a bit uncomfortable."

"Why? Do you usually feel like this?" Aziraphale asked, his concern growing.

You shook your head. "I don't, I usually like my hair, I just—do you...do you think it makes me look less masculine?"

Crowley scoffed. "Of course not."

"I agree, it makes you look like you. You have nothing to worry about, dear." Aziraphale said, kissing your forehead. 

"Plus, it's fun to play with." Crowley said, reaching out, and twirling a strand around his finger. He grinned at you playfully before muttering "you shouldn't change it just 'cause someone else thinks you should." 

You nod at his words, knowing better than to thank him or acknowledge the gesture any more. 

"He's right, dear. I love your hair." Aziraphale added, sitting on the other side of you, rubbing your back reassuringly. "But...I suppose it's understandable that you would feel like this sometimes. I forget how difficult it can be for you. I can't imagine." 

"That's alright. Thank you." You responded, kissing Aziraphale on the cheek, and leaning on him. 

Crowley frowned, and slipped into the space between you and the arm of the sofa, leaning against you, too.