This is all my dear readers. My take on what is going to happen in season 3 has ended. Those who doesn't want to read a bit of smut, don't go on after the first partition.
Chapter 14 Good Old‐Fashioned Lover Boy
It began with a subtle ripple along the length of his immense serpentine body, a shiver that surged through scales that glinted like polished obsidian. Crowley's colossal coils, which had encircled the Metatron in an unbreakable grip, started to retract with sinuous grace. Like an unfurling tapestry, his massive form began to shift and reshape itself. The scales seemed to dissolve, melting away to reveal smooth, flawless skin beneath.
With each passing moment, Crowley's body continued to diminish in size, his once-gargantuan frame steadily dwindling. His sinuous form became more and more human-like, elongated limbs gracefully emerged from the serpentine mass, now clad in his signature black attire. The transformation bore an air of elegance, as if a sculptor were meticulously crafting a masterpiece from clay.
As his transformation neared completion, Crowley's human features became increasingly pronounced. His face, emerged with sharp, refined contours framed by his fiery red hair. And then, in a final, breathtakingly moment, Crowley opened his eyes.
"Do you know how much concentration it takes to go back to human form?" Crowley quipped as he laid in the arms of the angel as a man once more.
Aziraphale leaned down and kissed him with relief, tasting his own tears, as a ball of joy erupted in his soul. As he felt Crowley smiling into the kiss, he cradled his demon in a reassuring embrace. Crowley returned the kiss with equal fervor, his arms wrapping around Aziraphale as if to shield him from the destruction that surrounded them.
As they pulled away from the kiss, Crowley whispered against Aziraphale's lips, "We did it, angel. Together."
Aziraphale nodded, his eyes filled with love. "Yes, my dear. Together."
They kissed again until Aziraphale's injured shoulder protested, causing him to wince.
Crowley immediately shifted his focus to assess the injury, attempting a miracle to no avail. "It's from a holy blade," he sighed, his concern palpable.
With cautious steps, they rose from their intimate moment and strolled together, hand in hand, smiles of triumph lighting up their faces. Their love had defied all odds, their victory hard-fought and well-earned.
As Crowley and Aziraphale approached the somber assembly of angels, demons and Adam, their triumphant smiles gradually faded. The contrast between their joyous reunion and the desolation that enveloped their companions couldn't have been starker.
Adam lay on the ground, tears streaming down his face, his once fiery eyes now back to their usual brown. It was a poignant sight, the weight of the world on the young man's shoulders.
Saraqael was cradled in Phanuel's arms , her typically serene countenance marred by sorrow. Her eyes, usually filled with wisdom, now seemed lost and distant.
Michael and Uriel, the archangels who had fought valiantly by their side, sat on the floor with weary expressions. Their celestial armor was marred and battered, a testament to the brutal battle they had just endured.
A high-ranking demon, unfamiliar to Aziraphale, who was battling by their side, has having this his hand bandaged by the archangel Camael. Their faces mirrored the collective sadness that hung heavy in the air.
Aziraphale's azure eyes filled with empathy as he realized the toll the battle had taken on their companions. "We win." Aziraphale began, searching for a way to bring hope, even if despite their victory, it was clear that the cost had been high.
"No, we've lost." Saraqael interjected, her voice carrying the weight of a revelation. "The sun is going to explode."
"What?" Crowley exclaimed, conjuring a pair of sunglasses with a miracle to shield his eyes from the grim news.
Adam, his voice trembling with sorrow, confessed, "I can't fix it now." A small sob escaped the young boy's lips, "I knew something was wrong days ago… and did nothing."
Without hesitation, Aziraphale approached the distraught young man, his expression softened by concern. "Adam," he said gently, reaching out to touch the young man's cheek, "you did what you had to do."
Adam's tears continued to flow as he confessed, "I brought it all upon them. The destruction, the chaos. I thought I could fix it, but I only made it worse."
Aziraphale placed a comforting hand on Adam's shoulder, his voice filled with understanding. "My dear boy, you were thrust into an impossible situation. You did your best, and you saved us all."
Saraqael, still cradled in Phanuel's arms, added her voice, tinged with sorrow. "It was never your fault, Adam. The forces at play were beyond anyone's control.
Aziraphale, driven by newfound hope, stood up and proposed, "Why don't we go to Alpha Centauri?"
Crowley straightened in surprise, looking at Aziraphale with a fond smile. "Fine by me, angel."
"No, not just the two of us," Aziraphale clarified, his excitement palpable. "All of us. A new home for humanity in Alpha Centauri, where they can live unaware of the transition to a new planet."
Michael and Uriel exchanged glances, their expressions reflecting their astonishment at the idea. Uriel finally spoke, "We must find a way to set things right, to restore balance to the universe."
Saraqael sighed, her voice burdened with sadness. "Finding the perfect star, with the planet in just the right spot and an orbiting moon... It's a nearly impossible task."
Crowley and Aziraphale shared a meaningful look. "I can do it," Crowley declared with a wide, sincere smile. "I may even know exactly which star to choose."
The high-ranking demon approached them confidently. "I worked on the design of the moon; I can recreate it."
"I supervised the creation and kept all the plans," Saraqael chimed in, her smile returning.
Aziraphale extended a hand to Adam, who had finally regained his composure. "Can you take everything there, dear boy?"
Adam accepted the angel's hand and stood up. "I may be able to do more than that. I may be able to return everything to how it was two days ago."
Aziraphale blinked in the soft darkness, feeling the warmth of the bed and the comfort of the cotton pyjamas against his skin. The memories of the tumultuous day before flooded his mind, the chaos of battle, the heartache of loss, and the desperate attempts to save the world… the wound he didn't feel, he touched his shoulder, a silent acknowledgment of the scars they carried, visible and hidden.
As he recalled the events of the previous day, he couldn't help but think of Crowley. His demon, surrounded by the celestial beauty of the cosmos, had engineered a star to mimic the brilliance of the sun. It was a breathtaking display of power and love, a testament to their shared determination to preserve all that was worth saving.
Heaven, Hell, and Earth had worked together, constructing a new world that mirrored the beauty and diversity of Earth itself. Aziraphale had used his abilities to heal Adam's injuries, and the boy, with his immense power, willed all of humanity just as it was the day before, to exist on the new planet.
And then they fell asleep, their hearts at peace for the first time in ages.
Aziraphale felt around the bed until he found silky smooth skin and recognized the texture immediately; his heart skipped a beat. He feet relief, knowing that his beloved demon was safe and sound next to him.
"Crowley?" He asked to the darkness.
"Hmm, good morning, angel," came the groggy response from his demon. "I'm wearing pyjamas?" Crowley's voice held a note of bemusement, followed by a soft chuckle.
Their hands found each other in the darkness, and Aziraphale moved closer until he was cradled in Crowley's arms. It was a familiar embrace, a sanctuary within itself. "My dear, are we at the hotel?" he wondered aloud, his voice tinged with a mixture of hope and curiosity.
Crowley's response was a simple statement. "There will be light." With his words, the room was suddenly bathed in light, dispelling the darkness. "Ngk."
Aziraphale laughter at the sudden display of power died as he realized they weren't at the hotel. Both of them sat up in the bed, taking in their surroundings, their shared reality dawning on them.
The room was spacious, with soft, muted yellow walls providing a soothing backdrop. A modern platform bed, elegantly designed with dark wood, was the centerpiece of the room, adorned with embroidered and patterned dark blue duvet covers and high-quality white sheets.
The built-in bookshelves held leather-bound tomes and antique volumes. A cozy reading nook with a tufted armchair and soft reading lamp. In the opposite side there was a sliding mirror door wardrobe.
Aziraphale noticed the adjustable wall sconces above the nightstands, made of the same dark wood as the bed, perfect for late-night reading. He couldn't help but marvel at the room's beauty.
The luxurious velvet dark blue curtains framed the windows, giving the room a touch of elegance and effectively keeping all the exterior light out. It was a cocoon of intimacy and serenity, shielding them from the outside world.
Crowley, ever the explorer, jumped out of bed, padding barefoot around the room. His gaze was drawn to a line work drawing, cleanly framed above the bed. "'The Windmill' by Rembrandt..." Crowley murmured, puzzled. "I thought it was in Australia."
Aziraphale joined him, finding a pair of velvet slippers waiting for him over a plush white and cream Persian rug. "Where are we?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder and anticipation, a childlike excitement that hadn't graced his heart in centuries.
Crowley, unable to resist his curiosity, yanked open the curtains, revealing a wall-to-wall window that opened onto a small terrace filled with lush green plants. Beyond the terrace lay a breathtaking forest.
After taking in the initial beauty of their surroundings, Aziraphale inspected the rows of books. Those were his first editions. On the side table next to the tufted armchair he found a note, he read it aloud.
"Crowley and Aziraphale, thank you for saving the world. I hope you like the cottage I wished for something both would enjoy. It's yours, forever. Signed Adam."
Aziraphale felt Crowley's chest against his back as his chin rested on the angel's shoulder. "Hmm, I like the place." He whispered.
Then the demons swayed away, and opened the closet, half of it was full of dark black and red clothing, the other half was occupied by beige and blue ones. After closing the mirrored door, Crowley moved towards the door, his eyes full of curiosity and wonder.
"Crowley!" Aziraphale couldn't stop himself from winning, they had done it. They had found their forever, a forever free from worries and fears, where their hearts could beat as one, and where love would always be enough. "We are home my dear."
Crowley turned to face him, clad in the silk pyjamas that moulded to his form, a wide grin of happiness plastered along his face. "We are home!" Crowley shouted at the top of his lungs, strolling towards the angel and picking him up, playfully twirling him around in his arms.
"Wahooo!" Aziraphale shouted with glee, as the movements grow slower and Crowley lowered him, his forehead resting against his.
As they gazed into each other's eyes, the weight of their shared history hung between them, but it was a weight no longer burdened with fear or regret. The realization of this moment, of being together without constraints, was like standing on the precipice of a new world, a world of boundless possibilities and endless love. It was a sensation of profound freedom, of shedding the heavy armour they had worn for millennia, and finally, baring their true selves to one another.
"We are free." Crowley stated, his hand caressing the angel's smooth-as-a-peach cheek.
In that precious moment of realization, Aziraphale and Crowley stood in each other arms in their new sanctuary, a profound serenity washed over them. It was a sensation born of lifetimes spent apart, of yearning and longing, of countless moments stolen amid the chaos of their existence. But now, they stood together, no longer divided by the pressures of Heaven and Hell, no longer haunted by the fears of discovery or retribution.
Crowley kissed him, a chaste and tender kiss that had their lips caressing each other in a delicious way that sent shivers down Aziraphale's spine. As they pulled away from the kiss, Crowley leaned his forehead against Aziraphale's again, his eyes revealing a depth of emotion words couldn't capture.
"Forever," he whispered, his voice carrying a promise that transcended the bounds of time and space. It was a vow written in the very essence of their being, a commitment that needed no witnesses or ceremony.
Aziraphale smiled, his fingers gently tracing the contours of Crowley's face, each touch speaking of affection and devotion. "Shared mornings and whispered nights," he replied, his voice a soft murmur tinged with anticipation.
Crowley's lips curled into a mischievous grin, a hint of playful banter they both cherished. "You baking too much cake while this wily old me is tending the garden," he teased, his gaze locked with Aziraphale's, their love carrying the warmth of familiarity.
The angel chuckled, leaning in for another sweet kiss, their lips meeting in a tender dance of love and longing.
"I hope we have a pond with ducks," Crowley mused between kisses.
Crowley's laughter mingled with Aziraphale's, the joy of the moment filling the room as they continued to explore the possibilities of their shared future.
"You listening to music while I read," Aziraphale continued, his voice a soft murmur of affection, "stolen kisses and tender caresses."
Crowley raised an eyebrow, his eyes dancing with a wicked glint that made Aziraphale's heart race. "There will be much more than caresses, my angel," he purred, his fingers tracing a tantalizing path down Aziraphale's spine, a promise of pleasures yet to be discovered.
In that moment, they knew that they were home, not in a place, but in each other's arms. They were free to love without fear, to live without regrets, and to build a future together that stretched beyond the boundaries of Heaven, Hell, or Earth.
Aziraphale looked at Crowley's lips hungrily, as he had done so many times in the past. But that morning, he dived in for a kiss, because he could. "Mine." Crowley's lips parted with a soft and desperate moan that came straight from deep within him, the sound making goosebumps emerge on every inch of the angel's skin. It was perfect, great, and consuming… and they were free.
Crowley was begging with his mouth, fingertips grazing over his sides with absolute fondness. "Mine." Aziraphale moaned as Crowley placed soft, quick yet and insanely hot kisses on his neck, he feel those all the way down his spine, his body throbbing for just a little bit more.
He stepped away then, panting, his pupils dilated. "Bed." Taking his hand, he smiled naughtily as he guided them back to the comfort of the bed, a sanctuary for their desires.
Crowley let the angel drag him to the bed, his dilated golden pupils unable to hide the urge and longing of his heart, his mind, his body and soul. He pulled Aziraphale in for a chaste but loving peck, a prelude to the passion that simmered beneath the surface.
The angel smiled at him, tugging Crowley's chin to steal a hungry kiss. The electricity shot up his spine as they fell back on the bed, clutching to each other. "Crowley" he pleaded, he wanted more. His demon, his love, his Crowley; he craved more.
"I will not be able to stop, Aziraphale." His hands held the angel's hips with a firm pressure, a plea for consent amidst the rising desire. "Tell me to stop or I will claim you as mine, angel."
"Don't dare to stop, my dear." Aziraphale clutched at the back of his silk pyjama shirt, yanking it off the demon's body, revealing the canvas of desire beneath.
Crowley leaned down, and began to nipple his throat, sliding his tongue down and skilfully unbuttoning his shirt, some un-angelic words springing from Aziraphale lips as he did so. "I… don't know what I'm doing." Crowley confessed against the skin of his chest. Aziraphale could feel Crowley swallowing against him, a vulnerability that only fuelled his passion.
Aziraphale closed his eyes, his breath coming out in heavy pants. "I've read about it a million times." He said with need, passion and lust, a confession that laid bare his deepest desires. He held the demon's shoulder and shifted them, so he was on top, straddling Crowley's hips, a position of control and surrender.
The corners of the demon's mouth curled upward in his trademark smirk. And he reached up, holding onto Aziraphale's shoulders; his lips brushed the angel's in a tantalizing fashion, and then Crowley was claiming his mouth in a kiss that nearly left him breathless, a kiss that tasted of longing and need.
Aziraphale hands caressed Crowley's body lovingly, possessively, reverently, terrified he might stop him at any moment. Crowley rocked his hips up, hot lips and tongue caressing Aziraphale mouth. They parted, and the demon fell back into the mattress, surrendering to the intensity of their passion.
Aziraphale hovered over him trying to make sense of all the information centuries of reading had provided. Crowley looked up at him, he was completely flustered; his eyes were completely black except for a golden brim. "I love..." he panted, his words coming out as hisses, a confession of love amidst the throes of desire.
The angel caressed Crowley's face with his hand. "My dear Crowley, I love you, I love you so much, eternity will feel short by your side; I want you."
"Wanted you for so long." Crowley breathed as his hand slipped pass the waistband of the cotton pants Aziraphale was wearing, the long fingers skimming down his thigh, a touch that ignited their passions.
Aziraphale's whole being began to tremble, he could feel himself and Crowley throbbing thought the little fabric between them. The angel closed his eyes and swallowed, he had never felt that way before, and began rocking his hips. Crowley tugged him down, the sweetest smile he had ever seen displayed on the demon lips, as he mimicked his motions, their burning bodies moving in perfect harmony.
They might decide to explore the rest of the cottage later, but right in that blissful moment, Aziraphale knew that from that day on they belonged to each other until the end of time, their love an eternal flame that would burn bright in the darkness.
The small village nestled in the South Downs possessed a certain timeless charm that both Aziraphale and Crowley had fallen in love with it, accepting the location as their home. Its cobblestone streets, worn smooth by the passage of generations, meandered gracefully through a landscape that seemed straight out of a storybook. Here, the past mingled effortlessly with the present, creating a tapestry of history and tradition that enveloped the entire place.
Ancient cottages, their thatched roofs aged to perfection, stood as silent witnesses to the passage of time. Their walls, adorned with ivy and climbing roses, whispered tales of love, laughter, and whispered secrets that had echoed within their wooden beams for centuries. Each cottage told its own unique story, and the village itself was a living, breathing testament to the enduring spirit of its inhabitants.
Amidst this idyllic setting, life moved at a gentle pace. Smoke curling lazily from chimneys signaled the warmth and cosiness that dwelled within these time-worn dwellings. It was a place where the outside world felt far away, and the simple pleasures of life took precedence.
The heart of the village was a charming square, where a centuries-old oak tree stood as a sentinel of time. Its gnarled branches sheltered a wooden bench, a silent witness to countless conversations, shared dreams, and stolen moments. A meandering brook added its soothing melody to the tranquil ambiance, inviting villagers and visitors alike to linger awhile.
And then there was the village pub. With its thatched roof and low-ceilinged beams, it beckoned locals and weary travellers alike with the promise of a hearty meal and a pint of ale. Here, stories were traded, laughter echoed, and friendships were forged in the warm, flickering embrace of candlelight.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the village in a warm, golden glow, it seemed as though time itself had taken a pause. The sky above turned into a canvas painted with pastel hues, as now earth was in the centre of the universe, Crowley could finally see the stars.
Their cottage stood at the edge of the village, embraced by a sturdy stone wall that offered both protection and privacy, much like the wall at the Garden of Eden did. It was a sanctuary where Aziraphale and Crowley could be themselves without fear or restraint. Its proximity to London allowed them to indulge in sumptuous dinners, impromptu escapades, and the pleasures of city life whenever they desired.
On this particular evening, Crowley found himself immersed in the quiet rhythm of tending to the garden. His nimble fingers moved with practiced grace, methodically watering the plants and nurturing their delicate existence. With each drop that fell from the watering can, he coaxed life into the earth beneath his touch. Despite his outward concentration and the occasional chastisement he directed at the clematis for not displaying vibrant enough blooms, a contented smile graced his lips. Time seemed to lose its meaning as he worked, and the cares of the world melted away, and replaced by happiness.
And then, as if summoned by the gentle cadence of his actions, Aziraphale appeared from behind, his arms enveloping Crowley in a tender embrace. The angel's whispered words, soft and inviting, caressed Crowley's ears. "I've said supper is ready, my dear."
Crowley's smile remained in place as he kissed one of the angel's forearms, "Hmm" the demon murmured, his voice laced with contentment. "I zoned out, my angel."
Crowley turned to face his angel, his heart brimming with affection. He couldn't help but be grateful for this quaint village, and the peaceful life they had built together. They might not speak of it explicitly, but their love was woven into every corner of their home, in the laughter they shared, the meals they prepared, and the moments they treasured.
Aziraphale responded with a radiant smile, wide and perfect. And they kissed, gently, slowly, savouring every breath, every touch. Crowley couldn't stop himself from letting go of the water can and slid both hands down Aziraphale's back, it's warmth and strength a comforting presence as he effectively pushed Aziraphale against his body.
The angel response was to deepen the kiss, tongue coming into play. Oh, how he loved his angelical tongue, passion simmering just beneath the surface. Aziraphale tugged up his shirt and as the fabric came loose from under the belt, Aziraphale's hands slid beneath Crowley's shirt, the touch sending shivers down his spine. With the fabric freed from its confines, the angel's fingers traced a delicate path along Crowley's bare waist, igniting a fire within.
They broke the kiss, their eyes locked in an intimate gaze. Crowley's dry humour returned, albeit with a touch of breathlessness. "Food is going to get cold." The demon teased jokingly against the angel's lips.
Aziraphale's response was a sultry whisper, brushing against Crowley's lips. "I don't care." His hips shifted forward, a subtle yet tantalizing invitation that sent a shiver down Crowley's spine.
Gently pulling back, Crowley took a moment to catch his breath, his wide eyes filled with astonishment and adoration for Aziraphale. "Well, angel," he said, his voice his voice deep and hissing. "You certainly know how to make a demon's heart race." Crowley smiled mischievously and averted Aziraphale's wandering lips; brushing a trail of kisses along the angel's jawline, moving toward his ear. "Two can play this game." Crowley couldn't resist the soft, sweet skin around Aziraphale's perfectly round ears, and he lavished attention there with every intention of driving the angel to the brink of desire; sucking and tugging the angel earlobe gently with his teeth, licking the soft sweet skin of his ears.
Aziraphale wobbled, his breath ragged, as his hands lowered, trying to find space between Crowley's tight belt and his skin, soft gentle hands gently caressing warm skin, exploring with tenderness. The angel's fingers finally settled on Crowley's waist with a defeated whine, and he let his head fall back, exposing his neck to Crowley.
With a chuckle against Aziraphale's neck, Crowley placed soft, wet kisses under the angel's chin and along the narrow streak of skin not covered by his clothes. His nimble fingers deftly undid the angel's bowtie, tugging it free with his teeth, and then moved on to unbutton the top buttons of Aziraphale's shirt. The fabric came loose, revealing more of the angel's skin, and Crowley continued to shower him with affection.
Aziraphale's guttural growl filled the air, a mixture of longing and pleasure as he whispered Crowley's name. With manicured nails, he scraped the metal buckle of Crowley's belt, urging the demon to go further as it pop open. "Here," Aziraphale demanded, his voice laced with desire.
With a throaty grunt, Crowley guided them both to the soft grass of the garden, the coolness of the earth providing a sensual contrast to their heated passion. Aziraphale's desire was palpable, his breath coming out in short, hushed huffs as his hands sought the space between Crowley's tight belt and his skin. Soft fingers caressed warm flesh, and Crowley's heart raced.
Aziraphale's eyes held a mixture of tenderness and desire, mirroring Crowley's own emotions. Like with the food, his angel not just enjoyed the bodily pleasures this newfound intimacy offered, the angel was starved of them, desperate for their shared ecstasies. And Crowley was determined to indulge him.
As they nestled in the dimly lit garden, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them. The air was perfumed with the scent of blooming flowers, their colors illuminated by the soft moonlight.
In the quiet of the night, their bodies found solace in each other's embrace. The garden bore witness to their shared intimacy, a secret sanctuary for their love. Crowley couldn't help but reflect on the eons they had spent together, the laughter and tears they had shared, the moments of triumph and heartache. Aziraphale's presence had been a constant in his existence, a beacon of hope that fuelled his optimism in his tumultuous existence.
As they basked in the moonlight's gentle caress, Crowley couldn't help but marvel at the ineffable nature of their existence. If they had been attempt enough they could had heard the feminine voice of God that stated: "It ends, as it starts, with a garden"
The End
I hope you liked this extra chapter. As I was going to end it all at reconstructing earth.
I'm sorry if this chapter is not up to the hippe.I'm not good at writing smut.
But, I'm working on it.
I've planed a new story for my innefable husbands, one were I can pour all my imagination, filled to the brim with love, comfort, and domestic scenes that can led to many interesting situations.
Stay tunned if you like a lot of fluff and some action too.
And remember, it will end like it stars, in a garden.