Request: @alikat7 Requesting - Crowley x reader. Crowley introduces his new woman to Rowena.
Summary: Crowley introduces you to his Mother. It goes exactly as he thought it would. [wc 712] [ao3]
Warnings: none?
The first thing you notice about the place is that it doesn’t feel like a home. It feels like a test. Dim lighting. Expensive furniture that looks like no one actually sits on it. A faint scent of something sharp—spells, probably. Or something worse.
And at the center of it all sits Rowena. She’s lounging like she owns not just the room, but reality itself. Fingers tapping lazily against the armrest, red hair catching the low light like fire.
Her eyes land on you. And sharpen. “Well,” she hums, voice silk-wrapped venom, “that’s new.”
You feel Crowley before you hear him—his presence sliding in beside you, casual but deliberate. His hand brushes your lower back, not quite possessive, but not accidental either.
“Mother,” he says dryly, “do try to contain your excitement.”
Rowena’s gaze flicks between you both, slow and assessing. “…You brought a human into my home,” she says, like she’s tasting the words and finding them lacking.
“Not just any human,” Crowley replies, a smirk curling at his lips. “Do keep up.”
Your stomach flips slightly. That tone—half amusement, half warning.
Rowena notices. Of course she does. “Oh?” She leans forward now, interest piqued. “And what exactly makes this one so… special?”
Crowley doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his thumb brushes once—once—against your side. Grounding. Claiming. “…She’s mine.”
The temperature in the room drops. Not dramatically. Just enough to notice.
Rowena goes very still. But then she laughs. “Oh, Fergus,” she sighs, shaking her head, “you always did have a flair for dramatics.” Her gaze slides back to you, slower this time. Sharper. “You expect me to believe you’ve grown attached?”
Crowley’s smile doesn’t falter. But something underneath it does. “Believe whatever you like,” he says lightly. “Doesn’t make it any less true.”
That lands. You feel it. So does she. Rowena rises in one smooth, predatory motion, circling you like she’s inspecting a piece of art she’s not sure she likes yet. You hold your ground—but barely.
There’s power rolling off her in waves. Old. Dangerous. Curious in the worst way.
“Tell me, darling,” she murmurs, coming to a stop just a little too close, “did he tell you what he is?”
You don’t answer immediately. Instead, you glance at Crowley. He’s watching you. Not controlling. Not interrupting. Just… waiting.
Your choice. “I know enough,” you say finally.
Rowena arches a brow. “And yet you stayed.” There’s something almost impressed in her tone now. Almost.
Behind you, Crowley shifts—subtle, but there. Closer. Like a shadow tightening.
Rowena notices that too. Her lips curl. “Oh, this is rich,” she laughs softly. “The King of Hell, hovering like a lovesick schoolboy.”
“I’d watch that mouth, if I were you,” Crowley mutters. But there’s no real bite in it. Not yet.
Rowena’s gaze flicks between you again.Then something changes. Not softer. But… curious. “…does she know?” Rowena asks suddenly.
Crowley’s expression hardens just slightly. “Know what?”
Rowena smiles—sharp and knowing. “That you don’t bring anyone here unless you’re planning on keeping them.”
Your breath catches.
Crowley doesn’t respond. Which—somehow—is worse than if he had.
Rowena turns back to you, tilting her head. “Be careful, dear,” she says, almost gently now. “My son doesn’t do anything halfway.” A pause. Her eyes flick to Crowley. “He consumes.”
The silence that follows is thick. Charged. Crowley exhales sharply, stepping fully to your side now. Close enough that his presence blocks some of Rowena’s intensity. “That’s quite enough, Mother.” His tone has shifted. Less playful. More final.
Rowena studies him for a long moment. She smiles. Slow. Satisfied. “…oh, I see,” she murmurs.
And just like that, You’re no longer the most interesting thing in the room. He is.
“Well then,” she says, turning away, utterly unbothered, “this should be entertaining.” She glances back over her shoulder, eyes gleaming. “For both of us.”
Crowley scoffs under his breath. But his hand finds yours this time. Fully. Fingers threading through like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he’s done it a hundred times. Like he plans to do it a hundred more. And the entire time— Rowena is watching. Smiling like she’s already ten steps ahead of whatever the hell she was thinking.
A friend recently introduced me to x reader fics, and honestly, my life has been so much better ever since. I’ve spent so many wonderful nights reading them…..tysm…….btw, i read aziraphale and crowley x reader fic do u like that?
[SPN Crowley x hunter!Reader] Let Me Be Here For You | One Shot
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Crowley/Reader
Characters: Crowley, Reader
Rating: General Audiences
Words: 1,002
Synopsis: Y/N and Crowley were supposed to have a date night. Except things do not go as planned: the hunter goes through a chronic pain flare up.
Tags: Gender-Neutral Reader-Insert, Hunter Reader-Insert, Hunter!Reader, Fluff, Sickfic, Chronic Pain, Soft Crowley (Supernatural), Slight Destiel mention, Slight Juliet the Hellhound mention, Romantic Fluff, Short One Shot, Chronically Ill Reader-Insert, Established Relationship, Massage, Crowley x reader
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
As I'm freed from uni and finally having a bit of life back into my body, I've been digging through my old x reader drafts (circa 2023/2024) to finish some of them and post them!!!! So here's one I started to write when I had chronic pain flare ups to try to lift my spirit up a bit! It's short, but I hope you'll enjoy nonetheless!
explicit ✨ edinburgh!crowley x ftm!reader ✨ good omens ✨ 12m
🔖 accents, chair sex, creampie, drugged sex, drunk sex, established relationship, marking, recreational drug use, trans character, trans male character, vaginal sex.
✧ read below or on ao3 ✧
🍒 author’s note: this was low-key rushed but i needed to get it out of my head.
Rain lashes against the windowpanes of the Edinburgh flat; a heavy, relentless Scottish deluge that turns the cobblestones below into slick, black mirrors. Inside, however, the world is reduced to the amber glow of a roaring hearth and a profound, unbothered warmth. Crowley is blissfully melting into his favourite armchair.
For the better part of twenty years, Scotland has been a sanctuary. Two decades of wandering through the Highlands, tracing the sharp lines of towering gothic architecture and drinking liquor that burns like fire in his throat. He loves all of it; the sweeping wools and dramatic tailoring of the current fashion, the moody landmarks, the wonderfully relaxed local drug laws, and, above all else, you.
Living here with you in this quiet, domestic slice of the 19th century has been some of the happiest decades of his agonisingly long existence. He loves this place so deeply that the sharp, lilting cadence of a Scottish accent has long since settled into his chest, becoming his default tongue whenever he speaks to the shopkeepers, the locals and to you. It's a habit of his — a tell, really — reserved only for the rare corners of the earth that manage to get into his good graces.
Right now, though, he isn't doing much speaking. He's simply waiting for you to get home.
The afternoon had brought a bit of a chill so he'd treated himself to his favourite remedy for a damp day; a heavy crystal glass of rich, ruby port, spiked with a generous splash of laudanum. By now, the concoction has done its beautiful, lazy work. Crowley is delightfully sluggish; a heavy warmth pooling in his limbs, leaving him loose and just a little bit giddy.
He's stripped down to his comforts; his heavy frock coat and waistcoat are tossed carelessly over a nearby settee. He sits, sprawling, in the armchair, wearing only his loose, dark poet shirt — which is unbuttoned nearly to his stomach, exposing the pale expanse of his chest and the sprinkling of dark hair across it — his tight breeches and his boots. His serpentine eyes are half-lidded, tracking the flames, a soft, dopey smile playing on his lips.
The rain outside can do what it likes. The world can spin how it pleases. In here, the fire is hot, the laudanum is humming sweetly in his veins and, any moment now, the lock on the front door will turn and you will walk through it.
The storm cracks outside as he traces the rim of his glass with a fingertip. The opium haze has his thoughts swimming in a fuzzy haze as his gaze flickers to the door, willing you to walk through it. You; his person, his love, his everything that has made this era worth living in.
Finally, the door-latch clicks open and you hurry in from the rain.
"Christ, it's chucking it down out there!" You call into the flat as you quickly close and lock the door behind you. Crowley's grin widens as you stumble in from the rain, soaked and shivering. He raises his glass in a lazy toast.
"Thir's mah handsome lad." He drawls, his voice thick with drink. "Come warm yersel' up afore ye catch pneumonia." With a tired but infinitely fond smile, you hang up your coat and turn to walk into the modest sitting room.
"Evening." You murmur as he reaches a hand out, beckoning. His gaze is soft, the firelight highlighting the sharp angles of his high cheekbones.
"Come 'ere." The adopted accent curls lazily around the words. You reach out to take his hand, noting his state of undress.
"You look comfortable." You observe as his long, slender fingers weave their way into yours. He tugs you closer, encouraging you to step closer, between his endlessly-long, sprawled limbs.
"Never better." He gives you that wide smile and you see a flash of his teeth, white in the firelight. Your eyes flick down to the half-empty glass in his other hand and you lift a brow, teasingly reprimanding.
"How much have you had to drink?" You ask and he holds up the glass, peering at it for a long moment before downing the contents and setting it down on the side-table with a thud.
"Enough tea tak' th' edge off." He replies and you laugh.
"And what 'edge' would that be?"
"Th' edge o' bein' apairt from ye all day, ye daft bastard." It takes you aback somewhat; Crowley isn't exactly known for being open and honest with his feelings. Unless, of course, he's terribly drunk. He pulls you down until you're perched on his knee.
"So about four bottles?" You assume and he presses his lips into a thoughtful pout, brows knitting.
"Aye. Maybe five. Or six. 'Tis a bit blurry. The laudanum helps wi' th'—"
"I thought you'd gotten rid of your stash." You sigh heavily, interrupting him.
"Well…" His expression turns almost sheepish. "Ah may hae kept a wee bit. For medicinal purposes." Your eyes soften in resignation as you lean over, lightly scratching your fingers through his chest hair.
"So long as you don't do yourself an injury." You want him and he arches contentedly into your touch, like a panther or tiger getting a belly rub.
"Ah'm fiiiine. Tis nae lik' Ah'm takin' it ev'ryday. Jist…whin Ah'm wantin' tae relax." His words are slightly slurred but, due to his nature, you know he'll be just fine. You lean down to press a kiss to his temple.
"Just don't overdo it." Large hands settle on your hips as he presses his cheek against your shoulder, breathing you in.
"Aye, aye…"
Reaching down, you unbutton your waistcoat and toss it over onto the settee opposite, joining his discarded clothes. You unbutton your shirt until the suffocating nature of the stiff collar is no longer strangling you.
He tracks your movements with hazy, slitted eyes, a sound rumbling in his chest; something between a groan and a purr. A hand slides under your shirt, his palm pressing against the small of your back. "Mmm… Bonnie lad…" He mumbles, his voice smooth and velvety. He leans in closer, nose brushing your neck as he drinks in the scent of you. You take him in as well; smelling the sweetness of the port and the earthiness of the opiate on his breath.
"Crowley…" At your sigh, he presses a kiss to the pulse throbbing in your neck, his hand sliding further up your shirt until his fingertips brush the curve of your shoulder blade. Wet, open-mouthed kisses are planted along your jawline and you shiver.
"Aye?"
"You really shouldn't… Not when you're like this." You say and he pouts again.
"Why no'?" A hand cups your cheek, his thumb moving to lightly press at your bottom lip. "Ah'm feelin' grand…"
"I don't…want to take advantage of you." You assert and he pulls back immediately, the earnest look in his eyes slicing through the daze of his stupor.
"Dinnae be daft. Ye couldnae tak' advantage o' me." He insists.
"But you're— You're drunk, you're vulnerable! I could do anything to you." It isn't a threat; you would never. It's a worry.
Crowley catches your face between his hands, amber eyes unblinking in the firelight.
"Ah'm drunk, no' helpless." He states firmly. "Ah trust ye."
With a sigh, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your face into his neck. He instantly melts against you, long arms looping around your waist to hold you steady. He smells like port, expensive opium, rain and something inherently ancient.
He pulls back slightly but doesn't release his hold on you. You go to speak but the words die in your throat as you feel the wet muscle of his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest, his words coming out in a slurred, honeyed drawl. "Dinnae fash yersel', darlin'… Ye dinnae need tae worry aboot a thing…" He purrs.
That long, wet, serpentine tongue snakes into your ear and you can feel his hot breath fanning against the side of your face. Your breath stutters in your chest, your fingers curling into the loose fabric of his shirt.
"C-Crowley…" It comes out as more of a moan than a scolding. His hand slides along the length of your spine to hold you steady.
"Aye, tha's it…" He slurs against your ear. "Jist relax fur me. Wannae taste ev'ry inch o' ye…" You shudder, feeling the warmth of his body enveloping you, the slickness squirming in your ear, how deeply he can possess you. His movements become more deliberate, almost hypnotic, and it makes your blood run hot.
When it finally slithers back out again, he doesn't give you a moment to breathe before he presses his lips to yours, his tongue slipping between your lips to explore once again. "Ah want ye…" He hisses against your mouth, devouring any sounds that build in the back of your throat as you melt into him. "Git up and turn aroond."
You find yourself obeying before you even register it, standing from your perch on his thigh to face away from him, his long legs sliding between your own. A gasp leaves your throat as he hooks his fingers into your breeches and underthings, tugging them down to expose your rear as his other hand works the buttons on his own trousers. He admires the sight of you and strokes both palms over your soft, creamy flesh. "Absolutely perfect." He murmurs, trailing his fingers along your inner thighs to find you already wet, already wanting.
Straightening in his armchair, Crowley passes a hand through his red curls and wraps a tight fist around his cock, smearing pre over the crown. "C'mere, pet." He pats his thigh again. "Le's git tha' leakin' cunny filled up, aye?"
His free hand reaches up to grasp your hip, guiding you down. He positions you above him, your thighs bracketing his own, and notches the head of his cock into your cunt. "Easy…" He breathes. "Let it…sink in…" You bite your lip as he slowly pulls you down, filling you with that familiar heat that you've grown to adore and crave.
He groans low in his throat as if it physically hurts him to restrain himself to such a torturous pace but, when you finally bottom out and your feet are lifted from the floor, he's buried to the hilt and his head tips back to rest against the back of the armchair. "Thare ye are…"
You begin slowly rolling your hips down; difficult, given the fact that you have no purchase on the floor. The heat of the room is suddenly suffocating and you can feel sweat beading along your skin. "Ride it, pet…" He purrs, sitting up to wrap his arms around your stomach, his chest against your back.
There are more kisses on your neck, wet and heated, and, as you arch into him, the angle lets you take him deeper, pulling a soft whine from your mouth. "Spread yer legs wider, love." You do, letting him possess you completely as he leaves red, sucking bruises on your nape. "Tha's a guid lad…"
Your legs are spread obscenely wide over his thighs, trapping your feet off the floor and leaving you effectively suspended. He licks two fingers, slicking them with saliva, before slipping his hand between your legs to rub at the sensitive bundle of nerves there. You clench around him and he rocks his hips ever so slightly, grinding into you.
Tilting your head, you capture his lips in a messy, hungry kiss, letting him swallow your moans and whimpers as he throbs inside you. Every jerk, every tremor through your body; he feels them and you clench around him, every slow thrust bringing you closer to undoing. Neither of you can last long, not like this.
When he releases your lips, you bury your face in the side of his neck, your breaths coming in short bursts. His forehead presses to your temple, his fingers circling your clit in small, perfect circles. "Let go, pet. Ah'm right here. Cum fur me, let it go…"
You go completely still, pulsing violently around him. Your bud throbs under his fingers as you finish. You're gasping into his neck, grabbing the arms of the chair with white-knuckled intensity. You let out a breathless sob, milking him for all he has. He holds you up effortlessly, head pushing back into the cushion as he spends. Hot, thick spurts coat your tender inner walls and he hisses out a bitten-back curse against your temple as the excess oozes out around his cock.
You stay in his lap as you pass through, into the afterglow, feeling him soften pleasantly inside you. The both of you are breathing heavy but thoroughly satisfied, the chill of the evening long since chased away. His hands roam over your body, lips pressing endless kisses to your temple, hairline and cheek. "Thare ye go…" He sighs, resting his chin on your shoulder, hands rubbing slowly against your lower belly.
"I think I might need to lie down after that…" You huff out a breathless laugh and he nods.
"Aye, Ah think ye might be right." Your body has gone completely boneless in his arms. He drops one last, lingering kiss to your cheek and you return the favour with one to his temple. "C'mon, lad. Le's git ye intae bed."
and if you got this far, it'd be lovely if you dropped me a kudos or a comment (whatever you have time for) on ao3. thanks for reading 💛✨
Crowley returns home after a tiring day. The ghost he married is very happy about this.
Masterpost
hi I wrote this at like 2 a.m. a day or two ago bc the lack of Crowley content was driving me mad. please enjoy. also if you saw this on ao3 no you didn’t.
Crowley groans softly as he collapses into bed, bones aching from a mixture of age and wear. Being Headmage is exhausting, especially with Ashengrotto showing up to request more school resources for his café. Dealing with this specific group of students is the bane of his school career, he’d swear to it. How kind he is for still putting up with it.
The man has already left his coat in the main room, but he doesn’t have the energy to get up and fully change yet.
A gentle touch meets his hair, two cold hands starting to gently massage his weary bones.
An echoing voice flows like a gentle balm on his ears after today. Your hands move slower as they reach his shoulder blades, pressing into the very old scar tissue that resides there through his clothes.
“Welcome back. I take work wasn’t well?”
You coo at the man, one hand leaving his back to start removing accessories. Rings and gloves first, each removed carefully with a kiss pressed to his bare palms when done.
Crowley shivers softly and leans into the touch, seeking affection as is expected from him.
“You’re right, unfortunately enough…” Crowley sighs, “Was your day at least better than mine?”
The man lifts himself up to help undress and get into more comfortable clothing, he’s simply so kind as to not make someone he cares about so much do too much work.
“Oh yes. It was quite peaceful here, if a bit boring,” you remark with a hint of amusement, “that bird you dislike came around again. He had some nice peaches for breakfast today.”
Crowley frowns at this. “The raven? That pest knows better than to keep begging for food.”
The man grumbles as he slips into the extravagant robe, the mask hiding his annoyed and jealous expression. Not that it does much against his spouse, but that can be ignored.
“He’s just a bird, sweetie,” you laugh softly at the theatrics. “No need for all of this.”
“He’s- he’s taking our food!”
Crowleys attempt at a defense is weak, and both of you know it. You finally appear visually in front of him with an expression that shows it.
“It’s half of one fruit. D’you want to try that excuse again?”
“…No. My point stands, he should stay away.”
You sigh, amused by mostly fed up with your husband.
“Stupid excuses…” You mumble, floating over to the bed and dragging Crowley with you.
The two lay down, already entangling with each other in ways only a ghost could enable.
“You wound me. With how great of a husband I am, I don’t deserve this treatment.”
Crowley laments, but he receives a kiss for his efforts. A very pleasant reward, he thinks.
“That treatment there? I see, how terrible a lover I must be, then.”
You joke, removing the mask hiding Crowleys lovely gold eyes and setting it aside to truly kiss the man.
The cold of the kiss feels like home, and Crowley couldn’t hope to be anywhere better. You move down to nuzzle into his neck. And perhaps bite a bit, if you feel like it.
fem! reader, child! reader, dad! crowley, platonic(duh), age varies for reader, fluffy, single father, samdreel refers to gadreel possessing sam and is not a ship, canon divergent, no use of y/n.
٠࣪.𖤐 if you read my headcanons for the boys as dads, then you know how you were born. if not..
٠࣪.𖤐 he was still in the bunker's dungeon when it happened. he was unfathomably lonely, and the human blood was only making it worse. in the worst of his depression, he somehow used a part of his own soul to create you.
٠࣪.𖤐 so, he gave birth? not really.. it's kinda like magic(?). or i guess it's sort of like asexual reproduction?? it was weird, he doesn't fully understand it himself.
٠࣪.𖤐 it took him a minute to understand what had happened, your existence didn't and still doesn't make sense to him.
٠࣪.𖤐 he got a better look at you, turning your little body side to side just to observe. logic told him that you must've been male, considering he was your only parent and he was a man. you were not.
٠࣪.𖤐 he was even more confused when he found out that you were, in fact, a girl. basic science should make that impossible. but then again.. what about this situation was scientifically sound?
٠࣪.𖤐 he held you up, gently stroking your little head as he looked down at you. you were so beautiful.
٠࣪.𖤐 a foreign emotion settled in his chest, a warm one that felt like coming home for the first time. looking at you, his creation, his daughter, he felt oddly content.
٠࣪.𖤐 well, that, and something else. an old, aching terror that he had only felt a few times in his life. he was a father now, and it was quite possibly the scariest thing he'd ever experienced.
٠࣪.𖤐 he swears when he gets back to his throne, he’ll get you the fanciest, prettiest dresses money can buy. but for now, you'll have to wait.
٠࣪.𖤐 off the bat, he's pretty attached to you, paternal instincts are hard to ignore when you've never experienced them before.
٠࣪.𖤐 since you were born inside the demon trap, he nor you can exactly go anywhere until the winchesters got back. so, he just held you.
٠࣪.𖤐 he almost wants to keep you a secret from the winchesters. well, he does want to keep you a secret from them, but he knows he can't. where is he gonna hide a baby? he can only hope that they don't try to hurt you just because he happens to be your father.
٠࣪.𖤐 speaking of the winchesters, their reactions to your existence were almost enough to make him laugh.
٠࣪.𖤐 dean didn't think you were real at first. he thought crowley was screwing with them and somehow still had his powers.
٠࣪.𖤐 sam, on the other hand, was absolutely floored. he thought you'd been stolen somehow.
٠࣪.𖤐 once, they tried to take you away from him.
٠࣪.𖤐 you sobbed and sobbed, and sam tried for at least two hours to calm you down. dean would say ‘oh, you're holding her wrong, let me see’, and you still kept crying.
٠࣪.𖤐 when both men had long since lost any amount of their sanities, they returned you to crowley and were collectively annoyed out of their minds when you immediately stopped crying.
٠࣪.𖤐 “oh, would you look at that? looks like she knows where she belongs.”
٠࣪.𖤐 he's smug about it in front of the brothers, but he's beaming with pride when they leave. his little girl knows who her dad is, and he is beyond happy.
٠࣪.𖤐 when samdreel goes rogue and he gets to leave the bunker, he insists on taking you with him. he doesn't care if a baby will complicate the process, you need fresh air just as much as he does.
٠࣪.𖤐 then, when he has to go inside sam(haha), he hesitates. there's a little you in his lap and he doesn't want you to get hurt.
٠࣪.𖤐 he tells cas to watch you, and the angel begrudgingly does. then, he gets inside sam’s head. he's more frantic than sam has ever seen him, which isn't a lot, but is still surprising.
٠࣪.𖤐 he immediately checks on you when he's done, and it's an odd look for him, how much he cares about you.
٠࣪.𖤐 now that he's free once again, he's making good on his promises to give you everything a little girl could ever want.
٠࣪.𖤐 princess dresses in five different styles and colors, tiaras with real diamonds, enough toys to keep the pickiest of children happy, endless tea parties, nothing is too much for the princess of hell.
٠࣪.𖤐 being that you are exactly that, the princess of hell, there is quite a large target on your back. nothing he can't handle, of course, but one that makes him worry.
٠࣪.𖤐 he doesn't want to settle in one place for too long, so he spends a few years on the run.
٠࣪.𖤐 but eventually, he wants to give you more stability. so he goes to the only place he knows is safe from both sides, the bunker.
٠࣪.𖤐 they don't want to let him stay, he just left! luckily, a little girl is a very convincing tool. he lets you do most of the talking.
٠࣪.𖤐 one ‘please, sirs. i just wanna stay with my dad.’ and a muttered ‘im scared, daddy.’ and the winchesters were already starting to cave. they both have a soft spot for kids.
٠࣪.𖤐 they talk about it for a while but ultimately let you stay. you're just a little girl, and they can't bring themselves to turn you away.
٠࣪.𖤐 thus ensues the weirdest relationships of your life.
٠࣪.𖤐 your dad naturally tells you to stay away from them, but being that you're a naturally curious child, you don't.
٠࣪.𖤐 it starts when sam was reading in the library and suddenly a tiny voice says: “what are you reading?”
٠࣪.𖤐 he shows you the book and, being that you can't read, tells you some of the lines. you're surprisingly easy to talk to. you seem to enjoy it so you seek him out on occasion to read to you. he enjoys it more than he expects to.
٠࣪.𖤐 then, a week or so later, you found dean working on baby. you took a seat on the floor and watched him for a bit. when he saw you, he jumped and dropped the tool in his hand.
٠࣪.𖤐 “sonuvabitch! kid, what are you doin’ in here?” instead of explaining what you were doing, you just asked him questions about the impala.
٠࣪.𖤐 he's surprised that you're taking an interest in his car of all things and answers your questions after you answer his. he gets a little carried away and ends up showing you how to change a tire that's almost your height.
────୨ৎ────
a/n: AAAAA I REALLY LIKE HOW THIS CAME OUT!! also, over 1k words is insane for me, i'm incredibly happy with it!! this concept heavily intrigues me, and i already wanna write a part two so please tell me if you guys like it! requests are open so feel free to send one in! love ya! gummi out
Pairing: Crowley x Human!reader
Summary: The end of time as you knew it was here. You, Crowley and Aziraphel had tried to stop it many times, but now with only God and the Devil in front of you, you realized it was really the end. And there were so many things that you hadn't been able to say, to do. Likewise, the demon beside you has the same regret.
Warnings: spoiler season 3 finale!!!!! use of she/her prons, and also my englsh is not my first language.
A/N: Sorry guys, I've finished the finale and after I've cried for two days straight I felt the need to write this. Someone asked me to do this? Absolutely not. Someone will read this? I have no idea, but I hope you'll enjoy this.
You were standing right at the end of time. And the end of time was Aziraphel's books shop. Fitting, you supposed, since it all started there. Years ago you had been in need of a job, and the Angel had took you in. It was supposed to be just a job to pay your studies, but it soon become a run to safe the world, thrice, alongside your winged boss and his dearest friend: the demon Crowley.
And, oh boy, if being mixed with biblical creatures wasn't enough, between a world's saving and the other, you hadn't realized how you had foolishly, recklessy, nonsensely started to fall for Crowley.
The demon who had fallen alonside Lucifer. The demon who didn't give a shit, apparently, of humans. The demon who always gave you a ride home when it was dark. The demon who always made sure you ate. The demon who killed his own kind when they had kidnapped you. The same demon who had left you alone the same day that Aziraphel left for heaven.
You had just risked your life, again. Bruises were all over you, but it was not the physical pain that bothered you. Aziraphel had left. He had chosen Heaven over you and Crowley. He had left you two alone, and you could feel that the demon beside you was devasted.
"There we are." He murmured before stepping out of the car and walking to open your door. "Go home, and rest."
He was off. He tried to hide it, but you had spent two years studying him. Drinking in every sight of him you could have.
Soflty, you brought a scarred hand to his arm. "Come inside with me." you offered gently. "Don't face it alone."
His body went rigid as soon as you touched him, but you knew better than being offended. Crowley wasn't used to gentleness.
You saw his eyes scanning your hand ebhind his sunglasses, then he rose his face and looked at you. For few seconds he said nothing, letting his eyes roaming all over your bruised face.
"It's better if I leave,Y/n. Now, before something happen to you again." he whispered in a graspy voice.
You widened your eyes, hoping you were understanding wrong. "What?"
"Y/n...this isn't safe." he prounonced those words like he had reapeated them a thousand time in his head before. "It has not been safe for a while. I was just too selfish to let you go."
You gulped, trying to make sense of what was happening. "Life is not safe, Crowley. But you? Aziraphel? You became part of my life."
"Yes, and look what it happened. You almost died. Again." he was suddenly angry. Not at you, you could see that. At himself. "I-...We made a vow, years ago. When you enetered Aziraphel's book store he promised himself to keep you safe. And...when you entered in my life I swore to keep every evil of this world away from you."
You could barely breath. What you two shared had always been an unsaid thing. You both had never acknowledged the other's feelings, always tip toing around each other. There had been some slips, of course, along the line. Some words that shouldn't have been said; some touches that had lingered for too long, and one or two kisses that had definetely never happened. "Crowley-"
"But I am part of that evil too." He continued, not angry anymore, just...tired. "As long as you are with me, you are a target. To the Angels to punish me, and to the Demons to have me back. Either sides will hurt you to get me."
You scrolled your head, your grip more firm on his arm. "I don't care. I've never cared, Crowley."
"I do, Human."
And like that, he was gone. You had been devastated, then angry, then sad, then...you accepted it. And you had been fine, really fine, until he come back. With Aziraphel. Actually, it had been Aziraphel who had brought Crowley with him when he bursted into your new work, talking about forgiveness and the fact that he had lost Jesus and the Book of Life.
Your eyes had met Crowley's, and while you had needed years to get over him. you had just needed a second to feel everything back. He stared at you and you stared at him. Frozen.
"And we do definetly need to talk about this too." said Aziraphel while he grabbed your arms and brought you to Crowley's Blentey.
And that was how you ended right there; at the end of time. WIth Crowley in front of you, shielding you with his body as the Devil himself stood in the same room.
"Do you have a pen?" he asked to the Angel, who nodded and run to take his best pens. You watched curious. Crowley had a plan, and as all the time before that, you were mesmerized by his whole being. "Pass me a book."
He started writing on the blank book. You rose on your tip toes and looked over his shoulder, seeing that he was writing about that exact moment.
"That isn't The Book of Life." You pointed out, still with your chin overing his shoulder.
He slightly angled his head to look at you in the eyes, and gave you one of his many smirks that you loved. "It is if we say it is, honey."
You heart started racing, as it did everytime Crowley called you like that. Before he could see the blush on your cheeks you stepped down and walked slowly to his side, between him and Aziraphel.
"What are you three idiots doing?" asked the Devil.
"I want answer." answered coldly Crowley. He passed the book to the Angel and the more he wrote, the lighter became the nothingness around you.
You felt Crowley's hand on your shoulder, and you turned around just to see a woman sitting on a big chair. Crowley's hand stayed on you, taking a single step forward, ready to shield you as he always did.
His touch. You had missed it like a man miss oxygen at the bottom of the ocean. It made you stable, it made you anchored.
"As you say, Aziraphale, you do not really need to summon me. I was already here." Said the woman, who only now you understood who it was.
God.
"So, Crowley, what's your question?" she asked smiling.
"I thought you didn't answer questions?"
"Time is done, Crowley." she said obviously. "I'll answer one question from you. But it had better be a good one."
"Oh, it's a good one." he replied taking a big breath. "Well, it's the only one I've got."
He was uncertain. he looked back to Aziraphale and you. "Ask." you whispered with a smile.
And as he walked away, toward God, you couldn't help but stare at him. At the Demon who had stolen your heart from the moment he had walked inside the book shop. At the Demon who cooked you dinner when you were sick. At the Demon who kept your apartament warm when your heating had broken down. At the Demon who had always loved you back, but never said it because you were from different words.
He cleared his voice. "Why make people, and then punish them to behaving like people? Humans are gonna human, no matter what we do. There's nothing we can ever do about that."
The question astonished you. He was using his only question to defend humans. You had always knew that he cared for your race more than he liked to admit, but you had never understood how much.
"They are born into a world that is against them in a thousand different ways, and then devote most of their energy to making it worse. Where you'll find the real grace and the real heart-stopping evil is right inside the human mind. But a person isn't the worst thing they've ever done, any more than they're the best thing they've ever done. Why..." his voice faltered, and his eyes found yours. "Why make her lovingly, good, brilliant, and then give her me. Why punish her?"
Your breath stuck in your throat. He thought that he was your punishment, but he couldn't be more wrong. Never in all those years you had seen your love for him like something negative, actually it might have been the only thing in your life that made sense. And you wanted to scream it.
"Free will." Was God's only answer. Crowley didn't accepted it, and tried to argue but the woman turned toward you with a secretive smile. "What about you, Y/n?"
You widened your eyes, looking away from Crowley and staring at God herself. "Me?"
"You." she replied calmly. "We talked about humans until now. Do you have a burning question?"
Many. Too many, you thought. Was the Big Bang really the start of everything? What was really Stonehenge? Is the Big Bounch true? Was Math really God's language? Why numbers? Why death? Why hreatbreaks? Why wars? Why make perfect, indipendent bodies, and create tumors?
But as you stand there, at the end of time, as the only human in all history who could make a question to God and receive an answer, the burning question was just one. So you rose your chin, walked toward her standing beside Crowley who was leaning against a pillar, and asked, "You didn't answer Crowley's second question."
"Human-" Crowley tried to warn you but you stopped him with a hand.
"Not about the punishment part." Your eyes met his again. "That was ridiculous. To even think that I saw you like anything but a saviour." You told him, and his eyes you something like regret. Regret to not have talked before. Regret to all the thing you two should have said to each other before it was too late.
You looked back at God, whose smile hadn't faltered. "Let's say this was all part of your Great Plan, and if it was let me say it sucks." She rose an eyebrow, showing surprise, but it didn't stop you. "So, everthyng was meant to end here, into nothingness. Every purpose, every good action, lead to nothing. Then, why give me Crowley? Why make me fall for the only person I could never had?"
You felt Crowley's presence close to you now, as he stepped closer and whispered in your ear. "She's not going to answer."
"No, beacuse I have to understand." You replied, not taking away your eyes from God. "I thought we needed time. I thought, he's a Demon, I'm a human; whatever could have happened between us would have happened with time. But you never planned to give us that time." You took a step closer to God, anger boiling in your vein. "Why? Why make all of this happen if nothing had a purpose."
God stood up from her chair. "Because you, the human girl from a little city, the human girl who lived her life day by day, the human girl who was brave enough to go against my WIll and stop the Armaggedon, was the only one who could give a fallen Angel a purpose again." She looked at Crowley knowingly. "Your love for her wa the messiest, selfishest, most predictable thing in the universe. You needed a purpose in a world where it didn't exist, she was your purpose." God smiled, the brighest smile you had ever seen. "And it always made me smile."
You felt Crowley's hand sliding in your righ hand, and his fingers interwining with yours. You squeezed it with all your strenght, anchoring you while you tried not to cry.
She looked at you again. "But it was you who set everything in motion. The moment you stepped inside that Book Shop, that was the spark of everything. You could've walked straight. You could've cross the road and asked job into another library. You had the Free WIll to never meet, but you chose that Book Shop." She clapped her hands. "But that was then. That universe is over. As I think are all of you."
You closed your eyes, holding tighly Crowley's hand as you waited to be turned into nothing.
"No! Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop!" screamed the Demon beside you. "You still haven't answered the first question." You looked at him confused. "What I want to know is...why did you think it was a good idea, even a sensible idea, to make an infinite universe, run it for 6,000 years, and then just...tip the board over? The whole thing is lunacy."
"Everything ends." she answered firmly. "A story doesn't have to go beyond the last page of its book, Crowley, and that story is over."
"I don't accept that. And I don't accept that you are the one who get to make all decisions. Why should that be?"
"Vey well." God smiled almost crazily. "I'll let you choose. This decision, this one decision, can be yours. An Angel, a Demon and a Human. What do you want? Do you want me to put everything back the way it was? "
Yes, was your first answer. You wanted everything back as it was. You wanted time, time with Crowley, time with Aziraphale, but Crowley squeezed your hand and brought you back by a step. "Can we talk?"
You looked at him confused. There was nothing to talk about.
"Very well. I'll give you privacy."
The next moment you were standing inside what looked like the Book Shop, but with the apple's tree at the center of it. You, Crowley and Aziraphale couldn't look into each other's eyes. This was different from the other times. This time you hold the responsibilty to choose the future of the universe with just words.
"So," you asked not looking at any of them. "what do you want?"
"Us? It's your world, Human." Crowley said gently. "You should tell us what you want."
You closed your eyes for a monent, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. When you opened them again you looked in the opposite direction of Crowley. How could you look at him now?
He asked you what you wanted, but how could you be so selfish? You wanted to go back home with them. You wanted to go back at the Book Shop, working all day with Aziraphale and maybe, bravening up you would ask Crowley out, and maybe the two of you would finally have a date. You wanted to drive around in his Bentley; you wanted to see the world with him.
"I've just wanted time." you whispered crossing your arms. Then you looked at the tree in front of you, the first mistake that humans had ever done. "But we humans are known for being selfish. What I want is not in the interest of the universe...just mine."
"Y/n..." Crowley walked slowly toward you until your bodies were few inches apart.
You looked at him, in his yellow eyes. Eyes that had never scared you. Eyes that you had spent hours admiring. "What do you want, Crowley?"
"You know what I want." You saw tears forming in his eyes too, and somehow it felt like a goodbye. "I want a real universe. I want the people to have a chance. I want Free Will to be a real thing. People, you, deserve the chance...to live in the real world." You started to shake your head, hoping to stop him, hoping to be hearing wrong. His eyes looked behind you, at Aziraphale. "Even if there are no angels." Your eyes met again. "No demons. No us. Never again."
"No!" you said not believed what you were hearing. "That's not right. Tell him Aziraphale!" You looked behind at the Angel who was already looking at the two of you with sad eyes.
"It is the right thing." he simply said.
"It is not!" you exclaimed looking back at the Demon, who now avoided your eyes. "What about me? Had you ever thought that my life started to make sense again when I stepped in that Book Shop? What if you don't exist? What happen to me then?"
"You'll be free." Answered carefully Crowley. "Free from biblical dangers that should have never touched you. "
"What about us?" you asked suddenly, wiping away a tear on your cheek. "We fought demons, angels, the Armaggedon together for what? For me to never know you in the next life?"
"Exaclty. You'll never know I've ex-" you stopped Crowley mid sentece by grabbing his jacket with both hands and crashing his lips onto yours.
You were kissing him, a demon, under the tree that rappresented the original Sin. His lips that tasted like sins and whiskey, moved against yours with the same desperation that you felt inside you. His hands moved on your hips, grabbing you firmly and keeping you close to him. Kissing Crowley felt suddenly the only right thing you have ever done. The only thing you were supposed to do. You didn't want Free Will. You wanted him.
"Please" you begged on his lips. "Don't do this."
"Oh, my Y/n..." he gently brought his hand to your cheek. "The moment I saw you I knew that I would have never let nothing happen to you, and if rewiritng the universe is the solution, then I'll do it."
Aziraphale stepped slowly beside you, not overstepping, not interrupting. He gently put a hand on your shoulder and gave you his best smile. "I think we've come to a decision."
***
Crowley and Aziraphale comunicated to God what they had decided, all while you three hold hands with one another. You were between them, as always, and as God stood up, accepting what you thought was the worst universe possible, you squeezed both their hands tighter.
"Say goodbye then."
You launched yourself onto Aziraphale, hugging him with all the strenght you had. "Thank you." you whispered. "Thank you for taking me in. Thank you for giving me the best job I could ask for."
"No, thank you." he said, hugging you back. "Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for having such a good heart and made place for me and Crowley in it. Never change, Y/n. In every universe, stay like that."
You smiled at him one last time before turning back to the demon who was already looking at you with his big, sad eyes. "Come here..." he murmured slightly opening his arms.
You didn't waste a second and threw yourself in his arms. He hugged you like hi life depended on it. That was it; your last moment together before you would reborn in a universe without him. "I hate you." you murmured as tears started to fall freely from your eyes.
"I know." he whispered on your head. "But..." he put just enough distance between you to look at your face. "Just know that in my eternal life on earth I have no regrets but one. Not having asked you out when you first stepped inside the Book Shop." You smiled, despite the tears, despite the pain. And he smiled back. "I don't care if it was destiny, or God, or part of the Great Plan. It was you, and from the moment my eyes landed on you I knew. Aziraphale tried to convince me, but I didn't listen. And that is my only regret. But if this was all the time we could ever had, I'm glad of it."
"I would step inside that Book Shop again, Crowley. And in every universe with you and that Book Shop, be sure I'll step in. Because it's my choice, it's always gonna be my choice." You caressed his hair as you started to feel the universe being rewritten around you. "I love you, my bad, former Demon."
He chuckled. "If this is the last chance to say it...I love you, my impossible, reckless Human."
He kissed your forehead, and just like that, the universe rewrote itself.
***
13.8 Billion Years Later
"Alright, I left the box in the garage. You could lit a whole bonfire with all those books." said Anthony as he walked back to his friend. "Did you need something else, Asa?"
The blonde man smiled fondly. "I would never do that with your books."
Before he could say something else the door's bell ringed inside the shop.
The door opened.
The air froze.
Anthony felt the earth stopping moving.
The sound of a boot.
The feeling that something far away in the universe happened right then.
"Good Morning!" Anthony looked toward the door and his breath got caught in his throat. Standing there, stepping inside the shop, there was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had a bright smile on her face, a smokingcoffee in one of her hand while she hold a brown bag on the shoulder with the other. "I was on my way to work when I saw this shop. Can I burrow a book for few days? I forgot mine at home and can't survive a day without reading."
"O-of course!" he said without thinking. Wait, he didn't work there. Should he have stayed silent? Did he overstepped? Should he leave Asa to deal with her instead? But your eyes were already on him, and his brillant brain seemed to have stopped working. "What kind of book were you looking for?"
You smiled at him. "What kind of book you reccomend?"
Suddenly, the infinite list of books he had read vanished in thin air. He couldn't remember a name, so he looked at Asa for help. His friend smirked and looked at you. "Anthony here is a professor of Astrophysic, he could suggest some good book about it."
"Oh, I'm sure she doesn't-"
"I'd love to!" you interrupted him entusiastic. "I love Astrophysic; the only road we have to travell through space."
Anthony Crowley thought he fell in love right in that moment.
"This way then." he said gesturing you to walk toward the end of the shop. "We have all kind of book about it. Thermodinamic, Entanglement, Black Holes-"
"What about, 'Astopysich for everyone'?" you asked smiling with his book in your hands.
He laughed passing a hand behind his neck. "You don't have to, really."
"Why?" you tilted your head on one side. "You are a professor, who can better explain the subject if not someone who teaches it?"
"Picture me nervous." he chuckled. "But we'll put it half the price."
"Absoulutely not."
"Absoulutely yes."
"Full price."
"A third."
"Double."
"Free."
"You can't do that." you laughed crossing your arms.
"My book, my rules." he smirked. "I can decide to give it to you as a gift."
"And I can decide to leave a 20 punds tips at the register." you rose as eyebrow, still smiling amused.
"Stubborn girl." he shook his head as you smirked and started to walk back toward Asa and Derek. "Where you said you work?" he asked as he followed you.
"I didn't." you smirked again over your shoulder. You gave the book to Asa as he commented what a wonderfurl choice it was. "I work at the cafe across the street. Just a part time job to pay my studies."
"Funny, you work in the same street and I've never seen you until you stepped in here." Anthony said thinking out loud.
Your eyes met his as Asa returned the book to you after you paid him. "Funny it is." you said softly. "I've walked past here every morning for a year now, but I've never stopped by. Today I've decided to. It just...felt right."
"Right indeed." he repeated as he watched you put the book under your arm and grab the coffee you had rested on the table.
"Thank you, Professor. I'll let you know about the book in few days." you gave him one last smile before waving at the other two men inside the room.
Anthony smiled, the only thing he found himself able to do in the last minutes. "Can't wait."
And like you stepped in, you stepped out of the shop, leaving behind the ring of the door's bell and the silence that followed after.
"So?" Asa said behind him making him turn around with a confused look. "Aren't you gonna go after her?"
"What?" Anthony asked oblivious. "Why should I?"
"Because you liked her." said Derek from his chair. "And she seemed to like you too."
"I-..." he didn't know what to say. It was absourd to run after you, wasn't it?
"Anthony, go." Asa smiled at him. "Up, up. Now, before she start working."
The professor didn't think twice. The moment you had entered the shop something changed. He was a man of science, but he could be damned if he let this opportunity go.
So he ran. He ran after you who were almost in front at the coffee shop. He ran like he had to catch something he had lost time ago. "Wait!" you turned around, first surprised then immediately smiling as you saw him.
"Did I forget something?" you asked curious as you watched him catching breath.
"Yes..." he stood right, and pointed to the book under your arm with his finger. "You know my name, but I don't know yours."
You chuckled, a hint of a blush on your cheeks. "I'm Y/n."
"Enchanted, Y/n." Anthony said soflty. Then he cleared his throat, ready to say what he had meant to say from the moment he started running. "I wanted to propose you a deal."
You rose an eyebrow, your eyes burning with curiosity. "A deal?"
"Yes. You know, maybe one day I could become famous, and the book you have just bought might value a lot if it had my autograph on it." He started explaing, moving his hands around like he did when he was teaching at his classes. You smiled amused now, but you didn't stop him. "So...I thought I coudl be kind enough to autograph the book for you."
"Mh." you pretended to think about it. "Very generous of you."
"Thank you, that's who I am."
"And what do you want in exanche for the future bilions of pounds I'll make with this book?"
"I want you to tell me about the book, over dinner." He gave you one of his best charming smile. "So, future bilions of pounds for your number and a dinner."
"I won't give you my number." you said with a straight face.
Anthony rose his hands in the air, knowing he shouldn't have listened to his friends. "That's fair, I-"
"I finish my shift at seven o'clock." he saw a smirk appearing on your lips and his heart started beating again. "You want my number? Come and pick me up, I'll give it to you over dinner with a first impression of your book."
He smiled. Something in his chest felt lighter, like he fixed something he did wrong in another life time. He had dedicated all his life to study astrophysics, to understand the world around him; and after so many years, the universe finally made sense.
***
24 years later
"Honey, what are you doing out there? It's freezing." you husband stepped outside your house after he had probrably seen you in the garden through the window.
You smiled to yourself, not looking away from the night sky over your head. "The sky is beautiful tonight, love. You shouldn't miss it."
"You are beautiful." He said giving you a kiss on the head and putting a arm over your shoulder. "And freezing."
You laughed as you embraced his warmt and rested your head over his shoulder. "Maybe, but seriously. Look up."
He gave up with a sigh and looked up. There was the New Moon that night, and all the stars were perfectly visible. You had chosen your house away from the main cities to be able to enjoy these kind of sights. Your husband could study the sky whenever he wanted and you could sit beside him and admire your man.
"Do you ever wonder what's out there?" you asked softly. "If there is more than us?"
"I don't need to. I have evrything I need right here." you felt in his voice that he was smiling as he rested his head on top of yours. "The universe out there, and you."
"Mh, tell me Professor Crowley, when the universe will implode again-"
"If it will implode-"
"When. We both know the Big Bounch is true." You shushed him waving a hand. "Anyway, do you think we'll still be us? Like, another version of this universe, slightly different, but still...us?"
He laughed as he circled you with his arms and made you look at him. "I have no idea how the Universe will end or recreate itself, but..." his voice became softer as he looked at you like you were the only thing that existed in that moment. "I am sure that we are meant to find eachother in every life time."
And as he kissed you, like he had done thousands of time before, you were sure of it. You and Anthony J. Crowley would find each other in every universe.
