Good omens x reader imagines

Meeting him - Crowley

An autumn breeze was blowing faintly through the streets of London. It gently flipped damp leaves and hushed so quietly that it didn't disturb the tepidness of the dewy air. It was Saturday. You had set off from your house to pick up some milk -amongst other things- from the shop you frequented, a few streets away. You had lived in London for six years now and you could navigate your little Saturday route with your eyes closed. You were, therefore, extremely intrigued when you turned the penultimate corner, to see a car you had never seen on the street before...

A Bentley.

An antique Bentley to be more precise. Black, polished, and brand new it appeared... but, that was impossible. The way the sun danced upon its back was dazzling and its undulating curves hinted that it was probably a man's toy rather than a woman's. You smiled softly to yourself, imagining that it must be owned by some fat old man with a moustache and a cane; a member of the bourgeoisie or some pompous club. The longer you stared at it, the more it drew you in. It was like invisible demonic hands were squirming round you, pulling temptingly at your autumn jacket and willing your damp shoes to approach it over the glistening cobbles.

"Hey!" An interestingly sharp voice piped up from behind you, making your body freeze and tense up with embarrassment. "What are you doing with my Bentley?" The voice continued, closer now. The man was nearly behind you, you could feel the vibrations of footsteps in your throat.

"S-sorry.." you whispered meekly, turning around to greet the owner of the car with a look in your eyes of pure fear and apology.

What you saw stunned you... it was not a fat old man at all... the owner of the car (and the mysterious voice) was a seemingly young, very lean man with gorgeous fiery orange hair. His eyes were shrouded by dark, circular glasses which complimented the car fabulously. He wore a short waistcoat and fitted trousers, a snake belt adorned his hips and the look was topped off with a jacket; all in various shades of black. His face was so angular that a brief glance could have mistaken it as harsh, but a longer look made you linger on his features and realise that his sharp jawline, cheekbones and arched nose were actually quite cute... attractive, even...

"I-i'm so sorry-" you stuttered, distracted and intimidated by the man's dark beauty "I wasn't thinking, I'll be going-"

"Crowley."  He cut you off as you floundered. The corners of his rosy lips perked up as he spoke. Was he, smiling?... "My name is Crowley."

A few moments of silnce passed before he raised his eyebrows and offered you his hand "i believe this is the part where you tell me your name? Or do pleasantries bore you as well?"

"Oh, um- sorry, I'm (y/n)..." you stuttered again, not breaking eye contact with the shimmering black disks where his eyes should be. You began to feel a little woozy, almost as if the man had some kind of power over you...

"(Y/n)." Crowley repeated, kicking a pebble with his shoe and taking a step closer to your now quivering body. "That's a good name."

Suddenly, a startled pidgeon tore up from the street behind, narrowly missing Crowley's head. As he ducked, his black glasses slid (as if in slow motion) down the ridge of his nose and shattered on the floor between you. Instantly, he clapped his thin hands across his eyes, but not before you had seen too much...

"You're a demon." You stated, cooly as you shifted the position of the bag on your shoulder.

Crowley removed his hands, in a state if nervous perplexity. His black and yellow orbs flickered with an uncertain inquisity. He furrowed his brow and lent against his car, taken aback for a moment "Honestly I thought you'd be more concerned" his head was cocked sideways and clearly confused.

"Not really," you smiled "you're a nice one, I can tell... I was friends with a 'good' demon at university. Sure, he was a demon so not entirely good, but he had some good in him... like you"

There was another silence. It silenced the whole world for just a few moments... then it broke.

"I don't normally do this but, well... since you love my Bentley so much, do you need a ride home? I could drive you to your boyfriend place if you need-"

"Oh, i don't have a boyfriend..."
You interrupted, looking down at the floor. A hot flush of shame and arousal permeated your cheeks, causing you to lose touch with your balance. You toppled forward lightly, falling into the arms of Crowley who was there ready to catch you.

"Woah there, are you ok? Its strange, a pretty thing like you... i thought you'd have a boyf- nevermind..."

You looked up into Crowley's eyes, the black slits quivering like the entrance to a whole universe. "Yeah... I'm single"

For one, brief, moment you leant against each other, limbs relaxing and faces closing together an exhilarating tension bubbled up between you until you parted just before an explosive interlocking of lips...

"Sorry, i don't know what the devil came over me" crowley stated, running his fingers through his fiery hair. He seemed tense. You smiled at him and scribbled your number down on a piece of paper you had ripped hastily from your address book.

"Here..." you pressed the paper into his open palm. "If you... wanted to try that again..."

You smiled at him and just as you turned to leave, you could have sworn you saw his eyes sparkle.

"A demon", you chuckled to yourself... "do I really fancy a demon?"...