Good Omens Oneshots

Revenge [Crowley X Reader]

Crowley's flat was usually a place of safety and comfort for you. It was the place you'd go to relax. This time, it was a trap.

The vile smell of shit met your nose. It took everything you had to not gag when the man put his arm around your neck to secure you close to him. You looked for anything to use as a weapon against him, but it was fruitless. So you were stuck there waiting for Crowley to return.

The moment he walked through the door of his flat, you tried not to cry. Crowley froze when he saw you held up against the body of another demon. Crowley cautiously walked a bit closer but kept a safe distance as to not provoke the other demon.

"Crowley," Hastur rasped. His grip tightened on you. "So good of you to join us."

"What do you want?" Crowley hissed.

Hastur smirked. His rotting teeth showed and released an even worse stench than before. "Revenge."

You whimpered and closed your eyes. You hated that you were being used as a weapon against Crowley. You mouthed I'm sorry to the kind-hearted demon.

"We might not be able to kill you," Hastur began. "But we sure as Hell can kill those that are important to you."

In a moment, Hastur placed both hands on your head. His arms tensed and twisted your head. A sickening crack emanated from your neck and you fell limp.

"No!" Crowley roared. Sobs immediately quaked his body. "[Y/N], [Y/N], no. Please wake up."

"Oh, they're not going to wake up," Hastor dropped your body and stepped away from it. "This is what you get for betraying Hell, Crowley."

Crowley rushed towards your body, ignoring the damned demon. He cradled you against him and rocked you back and forth. Tears fell from his face and on to yours. Hastor watched in joyous murth before leaving the flat of the broken demon.

"[Y/N], I'm so sorry," Crowley bawled into the crook of your neck. "Just please, please wake up. Please, I need you."

Slowly, you cracked one eye open to check the flat. Hastor was indeed gone. You moved one hand up to run through Crowley's messy hair.

His jumped and looked down at you. You gave him a crooked smile. He blabbered, trying to make sense of what was happening.

"Double-jointed neck," you whispered. "Just got lucky he actually popped it. Hurt a bit, though."

"Thank Go-Sata—whoever," Crowley wept and pulled you to him as tightly as possible without hurting you. "I thought I lost you."

"I know," you hushed and returned his embrace. "I know. I'm okay, everything's okay."

Crowley pulled away and pressed kisses to your face. He started with your forehead, moved to your temple, your cheeks, nose, and lips. You kept soothing him and running your hand through his hair, gripping onto his clothes, and kept reminding him that you were there.

You two had eventually moved to his couch. You were laying on your back with Crowley's head resting against your stomach and his arms were tightly wound against your waist. He was hiccupping while tears still ran down his face.

"I love you. I love you so much," he sniffled.

"I love you, too," you cooed.

Crowley lifted his head to look up at you. His glasses were long since discarded allowing you to look at his bloodshot, golden eyes. He stared as if he was trying to memorize everything about you. You smiled softly at him and moved your hand to wipe away the tears that were still spilling from his eyes. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.

"Do you want me to get you anything?" you asked softly. Crowley responded by holding onto you tighter. You chuckled lightly, understanding that he just needed you there with him.