Good Omens Oneshots

Pain Killers [Aziraphale X Reader]

"[Y/N], dear, why are you crying?" Aziraphale rushed over to you. Your head was smushed against the cushion of your couch with tears streaming down your face. Aziraphale miracle a tissue and began dabbing away the tears. "What's wrong?"

"I love him, I love him so much, and he doesn't even know," you whimpered.

Aziraphale felt his blood turn to ice. His heart stilled in the empty cavity of his chest. He felt as though he could have just discorporated right then and there. Perhaps he was, but it was just slow and painful, so utterly painful.

"And..."He took a moment to try to collect himself. He took a deep breath and willed down the knot building up in his throat. You were a greater priority with your crying. "And this is making you cry?"

"Yeah," you said pathetically. Your arm lazily rose and you pointed to the coffee table where a pill bottle rested. "I took some pain medication, doctor's orders. They, they always make me loopy. I always cry. But I just...I love him so much. He can't know."

"Why is that?" Aziraphale pulled his hand away seeing that your face was dry and you were no longer crying so long as you were talking to him.

"'Cause he'll never like me back. W-we're friends. Just friends. But he's so sweet. Like...Like sugar! Sweet like sugar. I'm hungry. He likes to eat food...Oh, I wish I could eat with him."

"Well, we could eat together, if you think that will make you feel better," Aziraphale suggested. Though, he had lost his appetite a short while ago.

"That's nice of you, Crow-Crow, but it just wouldn't be the same," you mumbled as you turned your face into the pillow.

"Crow-Crow?" Aziraphale's nose scrunched up in confusion.

"Yeah! It's a nickety name. Like it? But yer a snek, Harry...So like, it doesn't really work?'

"My dear, I'm not Crowley."

"Sure you are. You're Crow-Crow, I'm [nickname], and Aziraphale is...What should Aziraphale be?" You paused your drugged rambling for a second. "Boyfriend is what he should be."

"I beg your pardon," Aziraphale was barely able to stutter out. He felt his face grow immensely hot in just a short amount of time.

"He...He should be my boyfriend," you said. Though your words were becoming even more slurred. They were also slowing down, almost as though someone adjusted the play speed on a video recording. In a few seconds, you were out like a light bulb.

"Boyfriend?" Aziraphale questioned to himself.

A smile was slowly growing on his ever-glowing face. He had to keep himself from yelling out of joy. Instead, he moved some hair out of your face and miracle a soft blanket to put over your sleeping body. He made a mental check-list of things to do when he saw you in a sober state: buy some flowers, take you out to a nice dinner with amazing food, be the gentleman – as usual, and confess his feelings for you.