TITLE: break my cage and spread my wings
SUMMARY: Everyone called the Titanic the 'Ship of Dreams', but for Aziraphale, it was the ship of nightmares, carrying her away from her home in England, and her dreams of freedom, and towards the bleak future of her arranged marriage in America. The only spark of light in the darkness is her new and tentative friendship with the boldly intimate Crowley.
AO3 TAGS: Alternate Universe - Titanic Fusion, Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Rose Dewitt Bukater Aziraphale (Good Omens), Human Crowley (Good Omens), Female Crowley (Good Omens), Male-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Jack Dawson Crowley (Good Omens), Caledon Hockley Gabriel (Good Omens), Ruth Dewitt Bukater Michael (Good Omens), Arranged Marriage, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Flirting, Teasing, Smooth Crowley (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Hand Holding, Dancing, Touching, Neck Kissing, Light Angst, Temporary Break Up, First Kiss, Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Naked Female Clothed Female, Naked Aziraphale (Good Omens), Insecure Aziraphale (Good Omens), Virgin Aziraphale (Good Omens), First Time, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Tribadism, more tags to come (probably), tags only look scary because of all the '(Good Omens)' additives (set by AO3 not me)
Chapter Thirteen: You Make My Clothes Feel Invisible
Chapter Summary: "I'm glad to see you've finally fallen for me."
Chapter AN: Mery Crisis.
1912 April 14, Sunday - Day 5 (Part Seven)
Aziraphale stopped breathing when Crowley finally pulled her charcoal from her drawing and tilted her head first one way and then the other. She put her charcoal down once more, something swift in the corner, and then finally set it all down.
"All done," Crowley said, looking up at Aziraphale.
Aziraphale shot to her feet, jittery with nervous energy. Crowley blinked up at her in surprise, and Aziraphale could only met her eyes for a tense moment before she bent to pick up her dressing gown, so quickly that it was almost a collapse. She couldn't help but hold it to her chest to cover her breasts and the space between her legs, even though she'd spent the last… well, she didn't know how long, but it had felt like hours, exposed to Crowley's gaze.
"I'm… I need to get dressed," she stammered and fled. She'd done the same before they'd started, but she felt even more embarrassed than she had then, hot not just in her face but down her breasts and her belly and even her thighs felt nearly itchy with shame. She shouldn't be ashamed, she knew she shouldn't, not after Crowley had made it so clear to her that she was appreciated, but she couldn't help it, couldn't help how Crowley's gaze, her focus, made her feel.
It was a relief to hide behind her closed door, to put clothes back on. Only, she found herself pausing when she reached for the familiar tweed of her skirts and waistcoats and overcoats. The stiff fabric had always helped her hold herself up, hold herself together, against the looks and gossip of her society, of her mother, of her fiancé. But Crowley didn't make her feel that way. Even in the face of her embarrassment, even though her intensity made Aziraphale want to cover up from head to toe, she didn't feel the need to pack herself away behind her woolen armour. Instead, her fingers lingered over pale blue and beige chiffon - the only dress she'd ever purchased for herself.
Her mother had informed her on her way out the door one day that she'd finally managed to arrange a marriage for Aziraphale, with a man from the States. For a brief few shining hours, Aziraphale had hoped: that her mother had made a good match, that she'd found Aziraphale a good husband, that Aziraphale would finally know what freedom felt like. She'd felt… buoyant, walking through the streets, and then a cloud of pale blue fabric in a window caught her eye, the dress behind the glass the very embodiment of her cheer. She didn't even fuss about the fitting, didn't care about the days it would take to get delivered, but when she'd gotten home, Gabriel had been waiting to meet her, and every last bit of hope Aziraphale had ever had crumpled into dust and blew away.
When the shopkeeper's assistant had arrived with the box several days later, Aziraphale hadn't even bothered to open it. There hadn't been a point, not when her new fiancé was just a harsher version of her mother. She'd tucked the box in her armoire, under the hems of her skirts, back in a corner where she'd never have to see it or think about it again. But one of the maids must have found it when packing up her things because it was here, in her armoire, on the way to America with her. And as Aziraphale stared at it, she realized she was feeling that same hope again, that same buoyancy, and it was all because of Crowley, because of Crowley's honest and unconditional affection. She stared at it and realized she wanted to look as good as she felt in that moment, not just for Crowley, but for herself.
Heart racing in anticipation, or possibly trepidation, Aziraphale pulled the gown from her armoire. For a moment, she considered finding a corset, but the thought of being laced up into more armour was unbearable. Instead, she brazenly pulled the chiffon over her bare breasts, shivering at the feel of silk over her sensitive skin and loving how absolutely… exquisite it made her feel. The sensation of it shifting over her legs as she stepped into her shoes was so soft that it reminded her of the way Crowley touched her, and left her skin electrified all over.
Aziraphale got halfway to her vanity before remembering what Crowley had said about liking her hair down. It had been so long since she'd worn it down in public that the weight of it on her shoulders was unfamiliar as she turned back towards her bedroom door and stepped out again.
Crowley was sprawled in the chair she'd been drawing in, holding her open portfolio over her head. She turned at the sound of Aziraphale's steps and sat there for a moment, staring at Aziraphale. Then her arm lowered and she sort of… uncoiled from the chair and took a step towards Aziraphale before she sat down on the chair's arm. Her gaze traveled over Aziraphale's face to her hair, down to her dress and back up, and then her lips curled in a soft smile.
"You really know how to pretty up, angel," she said, her voice as warm as her expression.
The compliment caught Aziraphale off guard, especially because, for the first time in her life, she had dressed for herself, for her comfort, rather than for the public, as she'd always done, since she was old enough to be made to do it herself. She hadn't even done anything with her hair, and had generally… not tried to look presentable. But Crowley was looking at her as if she was wearing her most expensive gown and makeup, had spent hours with a hairdresser.
"Really?" she asked, unable to keep from fidgeting.
Crowley held out her free hand, her portfolio balanced on her leg, and Aziraphale tentatively took it. The smile on Crowley's face widened as she tugged Aziraphale forward and between her legs, which only made Aziraphale's face heat up, to be placed in such a provocative position. Crowley tilted her chin up and looked at Aziraphale expectantly, and after a moment, Aziraphale realized what she was silently asking for. Aziraphale took a deep breath, and leaned down, and pressed her mouth to Crowley's.
There was no actual difference, between the way Crowley's lips had felt the last time Aziraphale kissed her and now, but the fact that she'd initiated it, even if it was per Crowley's request, made her feel different. It was somewhat of a relief to feel a hand at her waist, pulling her closer to Crowley's body, to settle her arms around Crowley's shoulders in a returned embrace. It brought back a comforting almost-normality, a return to the almost-familiar.
"Mmm," Crowley hummed. "You look ravishing, and I would love to ravish you."
"Oh," Aziraphale said, and it was all she could find the words to say. Unfortunately, her mouth continued to open and close as if waiting for more words to cross her tongue, but there were none forthcoming. Her face felt like the sun on a summer day, and she was at a complete loss on how to address Crowley's impropriety.
Crowley grinned. "Would you like to see your drawing?" she asked, thankfully giving Aziraphale an out, which she gratefully took.
"Please," she said.
The portfolio was handed to her and the hand at Aziraphale's waist slid away, down the curve of her hip, fingers dangerously close to her rear. Ignoring both the hand and the heat in her face, Aziraphale flipped open the leather, grimacing in anticipation. She needn't have, though. The drawing just inside was unlike any portrait her mother had ever made her sit through, to the point that the woman she was looking at was almost unrecognizable from her reflection, save her hair and eyes, and the heavy pendant nestled in the dip above and between her breasts.
The wanton creature staring up at her from the page was laid out like a gift, but her lidded eyes were striking as they stared down the viewer. 'I'm laid out for the taking,' those eyes said. 'But not for you.'
"Is this… really what I look like?" she asked, tracing over the lines of her body on the paper, careful not to smudge the charcoal. She lingered, flushing, over the dark space between her thighs, where she'd thought her sex had been exposed. And perhaps it had been, but Crowley had shadowed it in nonetheless, hiding Aziraphale's most secret place from the viewer.
"It is to me." Crowley's voice was soft, and when Aziraphale glanced up, she found Crowley's eyes dark and hooded, her gaze warm upon Aziraphale's face.
Feeling warm all over, Aziraphale dropped her gaze, but it got no further than Crowley's mouth. "Thank you," Aziraphale murmured. "For… for everything."
Crowley's smile softened and widened, and then her hands were back at Aziraphale's waist, pulling her closer again. Aziraphale closed the portfolio and held it out of the way, and Crowley pulled her flush against her own body. With Crowley sitting on the chair's arm, it left them at level height, and Aziraphale couldn't help the rising heat in her face at feeling Crowley's breasts pressed to her own.
"When I say it has been my pleasure, angel," Crowley said, "then know I have never said anything truer."
She reached up and combed her fingers through Aziraphale's curls, scraping her nails over Aziraphale's scalp. The sensations sent shivers down Aziraphale's spine and her eyes fluttered, and in the moment her eyes closed, Crowley pressed a chaste kiss to Aziraphale's mouth. She was already pulling back when Aziraphale opened her eyes again, and Aziraphale couldn't have said who smiled first.
It was a strange moment, for Aziraphale at least. But only in that she'd never had another like it. There was no expectation to Crowley's expression, and Aziraphale felt none herself. There was only calm being, only them.
Crowley lifted a curl of Aziraphale hair to her lips and kissed it. "Why don't you go put that eyesore away and then see what other trouble we can get up to," she said, that familiar wicked twinkle back in her eye.
Aziraphale could only guess at what Crowley had in mind, but she couldn't help but remember Crowley's hands on her naked skin, the way Crowley kissed her, the way she bore her down to the couch, the way she placed herself between Aziraphale's thighs. Even before Crowley grinned, Aziraphale could feel the way her thoughts were sending heat to her cheeks and she whirled away from Crowley, only to stop before stepping away when she was struck with a thought.
Crowley had adorned her affectionately with the mark of another man's possession, and Aziraphale could feel in her heart a cycle that needed to be completed. With a hand that trembled, she lifted her hair away from the back of her neck to reveal the necklace's clasp. She only had to wait a moment before she felt Crowley's fingers releasing the connection. Aziraphale caught the pendant with her free hand before it could slide into her dress, but before she could step away, Crowley's hands cupped her shoulders, holding her in place. Warm breath tickled the back of her neck and made her shudder, but it was the barely-there brush of lips against her skin that made her whimper, that made her legs tremble.
There was another kiss to the back of her neck, just a little over, and then another a little over from that. Again and again Crowley kissed Aziraphale's skin, until Aziraphale's legs were so weak that she thought she would fall to the ground. Until she was throbbing between her thighs, aching for Crowley's touch. It was the gentle scrape of teeth over her pulse that finally made her knees buckle, and she half-collapsed into Crowley's lap, her legs unable to keep her weight.
"Mmm," Crowley hummed, the vibrations sending every nerve in Airaphale's body to attention, "I'm glad to see you've finally fallen for me."
Aziraphale blinked hazily, feeling out of sorts, and then Crowley's words finally registered. "Crowley…"
Crowley kissed Aziraphale's neck again with a little inquisitive hum, her hands sliding down Aziraphale's arms.
"My dear, that was just terrible."
The fingers creeping down towards Aziraphale's wrists stopped, and then Crowley huffed out a rare-sounding laugh against Aziraphale's neck. "Perhaps. Terrible but true?" she asked, wrapping her arms around Aziraphale's waist and kissing her cheek.
The mere question had the whole of Aziraphale's body feeling hot. It was not something she could deny, but nor did she have the courage to admit the truth. Not yet. "Perhaps," she replied, stealing Crowley's words and feeling a bit cheeky for doing so.
"Cheeky," Crowley said, sounding amused.
She gently pushed Aziraphale from her lap and swatted her behind, and Aziraphale yelped at the unexpected touch and the sting of it. She whirled around, her free hand hovering protectively over the lingering sensation on her rear as she stared at Crowley wide-eyed. Crowley just grinned at her.
"Go put that away, angel," she said, nodding at the necklace Aziraphale was still pressing to her chest. "And then we can play."
Feeling flushed, Aziraphale nodded and skittered around her, giving Crowley's hands a wide berth as she walked back to the safe. Crowley's laugh followed Aziraphale into the other room, and then Crowley herself, draping herself over Aziraphale's shoulders as Aziraphale carefully set the gem back on its velvet bed. Before Aziraphale could close the case, Crowley reached in and stroked the diamond with the tip of her finger.
"As ugly as that thing is, it'd be worth a pretty penny even on the resell," she said. "If you ever decide to leave that disgrace of a fiancé, take this with you and I'll help you sell it before he knows it's gone. A particularly unscrupulous buyer might even pay more if they knew it was stolen. Even if you only got a fraction of its worth though, it'd be more than enough for you to start a new life. A life you actually want."
It warmed Aziraphale's heart to hear that Crowley thought, in no uncertain terms, that they would still know each other in the distant future. It warmed her even further to know that, no matter what choice she made, Crowley would be there for her, to help her. That Crowley wanted her to live her own life. It was more than anyone else had ever wanted for her, and Aziraphale found herself craving that affection.
"I bet he doesn't even know you know the combination of his safe, does he?" Crowley asked, voice almost smug.
"I'm not sure. Either he doesn't know or he doesn't care," Aziraphale shrugged, even though the admission made the familiar bang in her heart thrum. Even after all these years, she still wasn't truly used to all the ways she was ignored, not thought about, unnoticed.
"Well, that's his mistake then, isn't it?"
"Hm?" Aziraphale hummed, caught by surprise by the unexpected viciousness in Crowley's voice.
"Being underestimated will always hurt, angel," Crowley said, "but you can always use it to your advantage. How do you think I got away from my mother and still have so much money?"
"You… you stole it?" Aziraphale asked, feeling unexpectedly flabbergasted. Not that she should be. This wasn't the first time Crowley had admitted to something less than proper.
"'Stole' is a strong word, angel," Crowley said casually. "I prefer to think of it as reclaiming what was already mine. Not unlike that necklace. He gave it to you, didn't he?"
Aziraphale blinked down at the necklace. She hadn't really considered it a gift as much as a mark of his ownership, but it had been a gift, hadn't it? "But perhaps tonight you would accept this gift as a reminder of my feelings for you." he'd said.
"He did…" Aziraphale said, her voice almost a whisper of comprehension.
"See?" Crowley said, and this time her voice was undeniably smug. "If it eases your conscious, that necklace is yours, whether he meant it or not. He gave it to you. As far as I, and the universal laws of gift giving, are concerned, that necklace is yours to do with what you wish. Keep it, sell it, toss it into the ocean. Doesn't matter. That necklace is yours, angel."
Aziraphale's perspective shifted and it felt like the world moved. Crowley was right. She'd never thought of it that way, but Crowley was absolutely right. Whether Aziraphale ran away in a month, a year, a decade, that necklace was a gift to her, and it was hers to do with as she wished. An unexpected sensation of freedom came with the realization, as if a hidden door had opened in her cage, one neither her mother nor her fiancé could see.
Overcome with affection and gratitude, Aziraphale turned her head and kissed Crowley's cheek. "Thank you, my dear," she said warmly, and then quickly turned her face forward again, embarrassed by her boldness.
Out of the corner of her eye, Crowley turned to face her in turn, and then she kissed Aziraphale's cheek back. "You're welcome, my angel," she said, her voice more heated than warm, and it seemed to transfer that same heat right into Aziraphale's cheeks.
Crowley's laughed softly against her cheek, and then slowly pulled away, her hands dragging up Aziraphale's arms and almost against her breasts before pulling off her shoulders. Aziraphale snapped the box closed, slid it back into its slot in the case, and closed the door, spinning the spoked wheel. When she turned around, Crowley was pulling her topcoat back on, her portfolio balanced on the back of the chair.
"So, what would you like to do now?" Crowley asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
Aziraphale couldn't help but smile. "What-"
knock knock knock
"Miss Aziraphale?"
Aziraphale went cold with shock and fright at the sound of Sandalphon's nasally voice through the door, and then the door handle moved and Aziraphale's heart leapt into her throat.
"C'mon!" Crowley whispered, grabbing Aziraphale's hand and pulling her urgently back towards her room.
"Your art!" Aziraphale tried to grab the portfolio as she was tagged past the chair but she only managed to knock it into the seat. "Crowley-!"
"There's no time!" Crowley hissed back.
"Miss Aziraphale?" Sandalphon called again, but this time his voice wasn't being filtered by the door and Aziraphale heart skipped a beat.
Together, her and Crowley darted into her room and Crowley closed the door as quietly as she could.
"We'll come back for it," she whispered. "We just have to get out first, okay?"
Crowley pulled her towards the door to the hallway without waiting for an answer, and Aziraphale had no choice but to follow her, hoping that they would be able to circle around for the portfolio before Sandalphon, or worse, Michael or Gabriel discovered it. It and the naked drawing of her inside, a private moment meant only for Crowley's eyes and her own.
The hallway was sparsely populated, most of the nearby suites's occupants still at tea and brandy. It left little-to-no cover for the two of them, and Aziraphale nervously squeezed Crowley's hand, her heart pounding as they tried to walk nonchalantly towards the main staircase. The sound of a door opening behind them made her turn, and the sight of Sandalphon stepping out of her door made her heart stumble.
There was a small pause as she stared at him and he stared at her, and then adrenaline flashed through her and she blurted out "Run!"
Crowley's laugh was bright and alive as she took off alongside Aziraphale, their hands still tightly clasped, and Aziraphale was surprised to find a laugh of her own bubbling out of her throat. Aziraphale nearly slipped when they rounded a corner on the marble floor too fast, but Crowley tugged her upright and Aziraphale took the opportunity to glance behind her. She was immediately reassured at the distance between them and a huffing Sandalphon, whose decades of hedonistic life had done his athleticism (or lack thereof) no favours, but that was no reason to slow down.
The lift just in front of them was emptying of people, and Aziraphale and Crowley darted into it together, hurriedly closing the grates before the attendant could. "Down, hurry!" Aziraphale gasped, the breath in her chest a little tight, and the operator obediently began to lower the lift.
And not a moment to soon as Sandalphon slammed into the grate and slapped )l]at it angrily with his hands. His glare as they sunk was so ferocious that it should have filled Aziraphale with the familiar terror of impending retribution, but Crowley made her fearless. Fearless and cheeky, enough to finally do what she'd always wanted to do: gave Gabriel's lackey the two-fingered salute.
Crowley snorted against Aziraphale's shoulder, and Aziraphale waved an equally cheeky "Bye!"
The look on Sandalphon's face as the lift finally put them below floor level sent Aziraphale and Crowley into a fit of laughter. Every time Aziraphale thought she'd caught her breath, she broke down again, and it seemed to be infections. They nearly tripped over each other when they finally stumbled out of the lift, and Aziraphale caught the operator sneering at them, lifting his nose at them in the way only the elite could do. It normally would have set Aziraphale's heart aflutter in the worst way, sure that her antics would get back to her mother, but she just… couldn't find it in herself to care. Not with Crowley breathless and smiling and warm at her side.
"I haven't had that much fun… ever," Aziraphale gasped out, unable to catch her breath in the best way. She couldn't stop smiling, couldn't stop laughing, and she'd never felt so free and happy in her life.
"You know, me either," Crowley said, pulling Aziraphale through a door into the hallway beyond. "You certainly know how to show a lady a good time, angel," she said with a grin, leaning up against the wall and pulling Aziraphale close.
"I would say the same of you," Aziraphale said, enjoying the way she fit against Crowley's body, the way Crowley wrapped her arms around Aziraphale's waist and laced her fingers together at the base of Aziraphale's spine.
"Good to know," Crowley murmured, leaning down to kiss her when she suddenly stopped. "What the fuck."
Aziraphale turned around and time froze for a brief moment when she made eye contact with Sandalphon beyond the glass.
"Oh," Aziraphale said. And then, for the first time in her life: "Fuck."
Crowley burst out in delighted laughter and took off, pulling Aziraphale with her. A door slammed open behind them and Aziraphale didn't dare turn around to look, and a strange sensation rolled up her spine - the awareness of something coming after her, like a monster in the dark.
"Crowley!" she squeaked.
"Hurry, angel! This way!" she said, turning a corner, only it immediately turned into a dead end.
Aziraphale turned to look at her, a rising panic making it hard to speak, but Crowley was already reaching for a door Aziraphale hadn't noticed, and to her relief, it opened.
"C'mon!" Crowley shouted, pulling Aziraphale into the room, oh gods, the loud room, in front of her.
She darted in after Aziraphale and slammed the door closed, locking it just before the handle jiggled. But if Sandalphon said anything from the other side, Aziraphale couldn't hear it over the screaming in the room. She pressed her hands over her ears and shouted at Crowley "Where now?"
Crowley was covering her ears too, but when she shouted back at Aziraphale, Aziraphale couldn't even hear her, and she laughed. There was a ladder leading down and Crowley looked down the shaft and jerked her head at it before she started down, and Aziraphale followed after. She knew she was just in a ship, but with the adrenaline of the chase, and the unknown at the bottom of the ladder, Aziraphale felt like a heroine in one of her books, a princess bravely crawling into a dragon's lair.
The room they finally dropped into was certainly as hot as a dragon's lair, and the man that confronted them was certainly as grimy as one might expect from working with coal and engines. "What are you two doing down here? It's danger- Hey!"
Aziraphale turned and ran and she could hear Crowley following her, shouting praise to the workers as they flew past. With Aziraphale's skirts fluttering around her legs and the lightness in her heart, and with Crowley close behind, she finally felt like she was really flying.
TBC
y'all rip to my productivity this year
Update next Sometime and don't forget to toss reblog to your Writer (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, post / 190591686323)~