@demonologist-in-denim and @walkingaline decided to write and exchange Crowley-centric fics based on the theme of “going for a drive.” Jump in the backseat and come along for the ride!
Schrödinger's Midnight Drive
Summary: Dean asks an unnerved Crowley to go for a drive with him. Post 12x15. No pairings, no warnings, canon-compliant/canon-divergent, 1.4k words. Posted on AO3 and FF.net.
The empty stretch of road narrows ahead into the all-consuming, soothing darkness of the night. In this impenetrable void, the world is swallowed whole. There is only the spectral consolation of the Impala’s headlights drifting down the asphalt. The subdued rumble and occasional ping from the engine, the faint cast of light across the front seats. Dean stares out into the night, his hand steady on the wheel.
Crowley sits, unnerved, beside him.
Despite the disquiet of the demon, the drive is almost meditative, peaceful. It is a lull in a world of yet another catastrophe crashing into the prevailing chaos. Within this respite, countless potentialities arise out of the darkness and fade away again on this long, indefinite reverie of a highway.
The stretch of road behind them is rutted with old animosities and casual misjudgments, of wary recognition and begrudging acclimation. Small assertions of affinity, hard-hearted attempts at reconciliation. A summer spent escaping stifling guilt, burdensome responsibilities, and constraining self-perceptions. The destruction of a primordial weapon of empyrean power, the Lance of Michael, to save a friend and ontological counterpart. The easy acquiescence and even invaluable assistance dealing with the inceptive hellhound. An entire history of incrementally emerging humanity and reluctant comradery disappearing into the darkness behind them.
In the perpetual silence, Crowley shifts self-consciously. He is unaccustomed to being invited on midnight drives without destinations. Less so, this weighted and fraught silence where banter and reciprocity cloaked as derision often reside. As the road continues to unspool ahead and behind them, Dean can sense the demon’s wordless inquiry, his apprehension.
And still, Dean drives on...
To read the fic, visit @demonologist-in-denim‘s blog, as Tumblr is weird about external links in posts.
Asphalt, Rubber, Rain
Summary: Joining Crowley for a test drive promises to be a nice experience. CrowleyxReader, no warnings, canon divergent, 4.7k words. Posted on Ao3.
The late afternoon sky is crossed by a carousel of heavy clouds, a warm orange light lazily seeping through it and anticipating the dusk, carrying the promise of a stunning view. The sunset will certainly offer quite the spectacle, provided that the blanket of dark purple clouds won’t get too thick. Just a few minutes ago, the rain was softly tapping on the windshield and roof of the car, the stream promptly deviated by the wipers, the soft noise merging with the music and the low hum of the engine, transforming the car into a warm, cosy pod.
Crowley’s call had surprised you, at first, but you were more than happy to accept his invitation: joining him for a test drive. While you weren’t shy around him, you were also taken aback by the fact that he asked you to pack for a few days, but curiosity had the best of you right away. You accepted without thinking and waited impatiently for the weekend to arrive.
Crowley is enjoying the drive, probably more than he should. Feeling at home while driving around was a foreign concept, but he slipped into it with ease. He doesn’t gamble, but he would bet that your presence in the passenger’s seat has something, if not everything, to do with it. The stereo keeps playing, filling the car with music and words, but you don’t care for most of them.
You’re currently half asleep and all the drowsy, lax attention you can gather is focused on the demon sitting behind the steering wheel. You don’t miss how he smiles, seeing out of the corner of his eye how your head keeps falling forward, how obstinate you are in your attempts to stay awake.
To read the fic, visit @walkingaline‘s blog for the link of their masterpost, as Tumblr is weird about external links in posts.
Chapter: 1/? (I’ll work more on this while writing for the other 100 themes, so new chapters are likely to be slow)
Rating: Currently PG, will eventually be upped
Author: justwritingsomethingsisuppose
Warnings: Violence at some point, body image issues, I’m ripping this off both movies and the Beastly movie and the og story so thats a warning too, good luck. Re-writing this off a 5 year old story. Alternative universe.
Once upon a time, in a land faraway, a young prince lived in a shining castle. His name was Fergus, and he was destined to be the king after his father and mother, King Lucifer and Queen Rowena, passed away. Although the young prince had everything his heart desired, he was spoiled and selfish and unkind.
One winters night, a cold and wicked storm rolled over the forest their castle resided in. Freezing winds whipped at the shaking windows and stone walls. Prince Fergus seemed to care not as he pranced about the castle, pretending to sword fight an imaginary dragon with one of the fireplace pokers.
Late into the evening, a knock at the castle door echoed through the main hall. Fergus lowered his fireplace-poker-sword to his side and watched from the staircase as a servant rushed to answer the knock.
The door swinging open revealed a woman, hair gray and back bent with her old age.
“What do you want?” Prince Fergus’ young voice echoed through the hall with his demanding question. The old woman looked up, first laying her eyes on the servant holding the door open, then moving them to find the young prince. Her once-brown eyes were clouded over as if she were going blind.
“I need shelter from the cold,” she croaked out. Her voice barely made it to Prince Fergus’ ears, but he heard enough.
“Why would I allow you, a haggard old thing, stay in my castle??” He crossed his arms, the fireplace poker still in hand almost like a threat.
“I will give you, in return, this rose,” she held up a single beautifully red flower. It shook along with her hand as she revealed it to him.
All he did was laugh at her.
“Are you joking, you absolute hag?? I am the royal prince of these lands! What use have I for a single rose?!”
“Do not be deceived by my appearance, young one. Beauty is found within,” she flashed him a grin, revealing that she had no teeth. Prince Fergus gagged dramatically at the sight. He stepped rapidly down the stairs and rushed up to the door. He shoved away the servant tending the door with a disgusted sound and grasped the door handle with his free hand, his light brown eyes staring fiercely at the woman.
“You possess no beauty, and you have nothing to offer me. My castle will have no hags within its walls tonight!!” And with those words, he slammed the heavy wooden door shut in the old woman’s face. “The utter audacity… how dare she?!” He grumbled to himself as he turned around.
“I am no hag, boy!” A voice echoed through the room and his eyes darted around in fear. He flattened his back to the closed door.
“Leave me be, witch! I will not have you here!” His eyes still searched frantically, searching for the once-quiet old woman. Her voice seemed to be right next to his ear and coming from outside and coming from the entryway and coming from everywhere at once.
“Beauty is found within. There is no love in your heart; you only desire the things in your life that appear beautiful. You have no care or compassion for the ones that need you despite their appearances.” Her voice seemed to grow less shaky and more youthful as she spoke. All at once, a blazing light appeared before him that then faded away to reveal the form of the old hag.
“Please, witch, leave me be, please!” His voice was no longer demanding, but pleading. Before his eyes, her saggy muddy skin seemed to tighten and the deep chocolate tone returned. Her gray hair slowly flushed a deep brown. The curve of her back slowly straightened up. Her once-cloudy eyes slowly brightened and turned to black. When she opened her mouth to speak, she had teeth. She was beautiful now.
“You will learn to see the beauty within.” She stated.
“Please, I am sorry! You may shelter from the cold in my castle! I am certain my father will not mind! Please!” He shouted his fearful apology to her. His brown eyes began to water, lip trembling.
“You will learn to see the beauty within.” She repeated, outstretching her right hand. The glow encased the room once again and then a shrill whistle filled his ears.
The whistle was her voice, heightened and repeating her phrase and his designated punishment.
His punishment was to be turned into a hideous beast. His skin ripped and shredded and his bones bent and writhed as his body changed from that of a young 16 year old man to that of a demon.
Through the entire transformation, Prince Fergus screamed. All he could hear was the voice of the witch and his own skin ripping apart. All he could see was the brilliant glow of her powers enveloping him. All he could taste was his own blood as his teeth elongated and sharpened, cutting his gums and his tongue. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain.
His face felt like it was on fire.
“You must learn to love someone other than yourself, and you must earn their love in return, before the last petal falls from this rose. Else, you will forever remain a reflection of your inner self. Prince Fergus, good luck.” Her voice echoed in his mind loudly, only to fade out and be replaced by horrified screams mixed with his own pained sobs.
His mother, Queen Rowena, had been fetched and brought down by the doorman who had realized something was wrong. She had frozen in place on the stairs when her eyes fell upon her disfigured son. Her screams rattled the prince into opening his eyes, which were now glowing red.
“Mother! Mother please, help me!” He cried out to her, but she could merely stare in horror.
“Noooo… my dear little Fergus…” she groaned out before fainting. The doorman caught her before she could collapse down the stairs.
Fergus forced himself to stand despite the pain in his legs. The sound of hooves on wood surprised him and he looked down at his feet, only to discover two black cloven hooves where his feet used to be. His legs seemed to be covered with thick, light brown hair all the way down to those hooves.
“M-mother?!” His voice sounded deeper, almost raspy despite his youth. He lifted his shaking hands up from his sides to stare at them - what were once delicate and thin white fingers were now grayed sunken skin ending in long hooked claws. The grayed skin continued up his arms to his shoulders where it faded back to white but began to appear riddled with thick, raised, red scars. His head and his back felt heavy where a pair of thick leathery wings and a great many horns had sprouted through his skin. He stumbled a bit in place before he looked up at the doorman holding his mother. “Wh… what am I??” he asked. The doorman just jerked his head while his jaw hung agape, fearful of the once-princely creature before him.
His parents did all they could to heal him. They called in a doctor, a healer, a man who claimed to be a miracle worker, and as a last resort a witch. None could remove his disfigurements. His skull adorned now with horns, his face now appeared as though it were burned, his chest scarred, his arms aged, his fingers tipped with claws, his back bearing wings, his legs now those of a goat or deer.
He was well and truly stuck as a monster.
That night, they had found the rose laying delicately in the center of the foyer. His mother had preserved it in a vase, hoping to extend its life and ensure her son wouldn’t die. The rose never seemed to wilt, a faint red glow surrounding the dainty little flower and seemingly keeping it alive.
After a year, the king and queen moved from the forest to their summer castle on the coast. They promised to visit, and they did at first. Over time, their visits went from once monthly, to once every third month, to once a year, to… none. Even their letters stopped. He lived alone in that castle for twenty years, only a small remaining and aging staff to care for him, until he finally got news: both his parents had finally passed and left behind the heir to their throne, a princess named Megan, eighteen years of age and ready to marry one Prince Azazel from another kingdom to unite the two and gain the throne.
The servants remaining tried to keep him happy, to get him adjusted to his life this way, but to no avail. One of the servants, the castle’s hunter, even created an intricate mask for him from the head of a large goat he had killed. The mask had two horns on it and holes for the horns in the princes head to slide through so that it would all look like a costume piece, and it hid his burned face from the world. All for nothing; despite that the prince wore it every day, he was ever grumpier. Prince Fergus grew angry and bitter and frustrated. One by one, he ended the employment of the servants until none were left but two: Guthrie, his butler and one so loyal that even though the prince had fired him several times and told him to leave under threat of death the man refused to leave, and Raul, who prepared every single meal. The prince likely would never have eaten if Raul had left.
Twenty years of quiet, of being virtually alone, of slowly watching the rose wilt petal by petal. He believed he held no chance of ever breaking the curse over his head.
As Y/n's scream echoed from behind the closet door, Sam and Dean looked at each other worriedly.
"Fuck," Dean uttered before slamming into the heavy oak door with his body, Sam following suit.
Several minutes passed as the door began to splinter, but wouldn't give at all. Their shoulders were beginning to ache.
"What are these doors even made of. This is not normal!" Sam exclaims, hunched over himself tiredly.
Dean says nothing to focused on getting Y/n out of the closet. Even if he huffed himself into exhaustion, what was more frightening is the thought that-Y/n, an omega in full heat was behind the door possibly sick or ill from the effects. He couldn’t even hear what Sam was going on about as he thrust his body over and over again against the door that just wasn’t breaking.
“Dean!” Sam yelled right into his ear.
“What, Sam?” Dean replied with more irritability and volume then he intended.
“You’re going to break your shoulder!”
“It’ll fucking heal!” Dean yelled back, and looked at the door again as the screams stopped. “Hold on, Y/n, I’m coming!” he called to the door, and started the process of hitting it all again.
Dean was so preoccupied with the door and Y/n, he completely missed Sam’s look of worry and the knowing sadness behind his eyes. But to be honest, Sam didn’t think Dean gave a damn about what he thought at this point, and as much as he hated it...Dean was right.
Ok but imagining Crowley sauntering around my store trying to figure out which dickhead customer is a demon is making me smile.
Ok no but also if they aren’t a demon? Doesn’t stop him from messing up their day like:
“Crowley, love, I understand you are concerned but Karen who is pissed because her coupon is out of date is not going to hurt me, so can you please not stalk her in snake form?”
“Crowley, dear, we’ve been over this. Chad who keeps flirting with me because I’m contracted to smile and be poilte and won’t take no for an answer isn’t actually a threat, so can you please stop pretending to be his long lost lover from across the ocean?”
“Crowley, pet, please don’t threaten Child who is making a mess of my display because his mother isn’t paying attentin and/or doesn’t give a shit. I don’t want to be fired when his mother goes mental.”
“Crowley, precious, you know I love you but p l e a s e d o n ‘ t r e l e a s e t h e s n a k e s on Jeremy who is pissed because he can’t do math. Save it for the next Child who decides that screaming because I won’t give him free stuff is an appropriate response.”
Just....Crowley being over protective but loving and you having to reel him in because he’s getting a bit too creative or involved with your shitty customers. Also idk where you work but I was basing this loosley on my time working at Maccas and my time spent presusing the aisles of Target
But yes. I want this as a fic, I may write it one day. When I get time.
Based on Crowley saying “I will cherish the day the last piece of humanity leaves me feelings”
You were making hot chocolate, after being outside all day hunting a wendingo you deserved it, it had been a couple of days after Crowley helped the Winchesters get the first blade, he had been a little more himself after the detox, the old Crowley before the human blood, and to be honest you will miss the human Crowley even though you fell in love with him while he was a completely demonic, either way you have enjoyed this more calmed, confused Crowley, you have enjoyed the little gestures, the sweet moments he wouldn’t dare while he was a completely demonic, not to mention he had told you that he loves you the first time while being almost human.
But you will take him as he is, you will love every change he makes and miss every aspect that goes, enjoying seeing him grow as a demon, seeing him learn from mistakes, as long as the core of what’s inside him remains the same, after all, you had changed too, with him and after all this time you expected so.
“Hello darling”
“Hi! How was your day?” You said replaying, not looking at him, concerned the milk on the pot would boil and fall.
“Predictable. What are you doing, love?”
“I’m making chocolate, want some?”
“Sure, why not? After all this, nothing is strange anymore, not even the king of hell drinking hot chocolate with his lover” he said wrapping an arm around your waist
“Why would it? Lillith used to eat ice cream while terrorizing people... and you were his lover by the way” you replayed with a lightly tone of jealousy in your voice.
He chuckled, tightening his wrap around you, kissing your neck “yes but now I am yours, love.”
You closed your eyes in respond to his embrace not noticing the milk was just about to fall.
“Shit. I am blaming you for this!”
“Sorry love, but watching the milk isn’t my job, watching you is”
You smiled at him and pour the chocolate that was left in two cups, leading the king to the couch where you had prepared a blanket and your favorite film.
You put both your cups on the table and you took a moment to look over to Crowley and kiss him in the sweetest way while taking off his tie.
You covered both of you under the blanket, gave him the cup off chocolate and played the movie.
He was half watching the movie because he found you to be quite distracting, he love admiring you, your expressions as your favorite part passes, your little smiles and comments and how as it got darker outside you would start to wrap the blanket tighter.
“Y/N” he said with a serious tone that got you worried.
“Whats wrong love?” You said looking at him, concerned showed in your eyes
“I am never gonna be free of all emotion aren’t I?” He didn’t dare to look at you in the eyes
“What?”
“I told the Winchesters that I would cherish the day all trace of humanity left me, particularly feelings, but that’s never gonna happen is it?” He didn’t even let you speak he instead lead you to a different position until you were straddling him.
“Because I am always gonna love you, that’s the strongest emotion a human can have, but I have felt it for such a long time, almost as long as we been together, so I guess that I haven’t been a complete demon since I met you” he said looking at you directly into your eyes, with a deep serious voice that made you feel sorry
“I am sorry, Crowley I didn’t know you felt that way, I never meant to take away that from you, what makes you a complete demon, what you define yourself as” tears running from your face, hearing the word love never felt so bad
He wiped the tears from your face
“Never apologize for what you wake in me, I have never been more happy or pleased” he said the last part with a suggestive smirk
“Then why do you make it sound so bad?” You said looking into his eyes, those beautiful eyes
“It is bad, it’s not something a demon should feel, it’s not natural. Then why does it feels so Bloody natural, so right, tell me love, for someone who claims to never want to hurt me, why are you doing this to me?” This time his full attention was in you, he didn’t let you look away and his grip on you has tight
“I never asked you to love me!” You felt sudden anger rushed into you
“Oh but you did everything in your power to make sure I did, didn’t you?”
“Excuse me?!”
“You!, you were there for me every time I was alone, every minute of my fall, you fought so I could regain my throne by my side, as if it was godamn yours! You made me your fool!” He was angry almost shouting the last part.
As he was saying this words you were fighting to get off him, crying feeling rage pump to your heart every word that was coming from his mouth felt like a dagger.
“By being me?! By loving you?! You can’t force someone to love you Crowley and I never did anything to manipulate you, as I recall that’s not my game, its yours.”
He didn’t let you move, you started raising your voice. “Why are you telling me this?!”
“Because I want you to understand every little thing that had to happen so that I finally surrender and give up everything to this, this feeling, to you, I had to give up everything that I believed in as a demon so that I could feel this way for you”.
“You think it was easy for me?! Love is surrender! Dating a demon, as a hunter that’s quite hard to accept”.
He looked at you his eyes show something different you haven’t seen before, was it regret or was it fear?
“I love you y/n and the only thing that came good out of the human blood is that I was finally able to say it, I am not regretting this, I am just accepting that every change that you have made into me won’t go away after this detox, I am accepting that I will never be a demon and in exchange I will never be left all alone.”
“I don’t know what to say” you said the tears finally stopping falling from your eyes
“Tell me that I will never regret it, promise me that you will be mine forever, no matter what, tell me that every sacrifice that had to come for this, everything that had to fall into place and that will come out of this will be repay by your complete surrender, your complete devotion”
“You know it will be, you know it is, I have only and will only be yours forever.”
That seemed to calm him down, you were starting to wonder if that was a promise of eternity feeling as intimate as a weeding proposition.
He kissed you, and said “Show me”
That night you worshipped him, every minute every second spend on him, for him, every fiber in you was completely focused on making him happy, pleased, unregretful.
And by the end of the night he told you “ I am sorry it’s just an irracional fear love, I can’t afford to lose you after all that I have made to have you in my arms”.
“Just making the price was worth it, huh?”
“ I’ve always known it was worth it love, I was making sure you knew it, and felt the same way”
You looked at him with a little bit of disbelief wondering what this was really all about, without noticing this was him, realizing he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, not wanting to stop this feelings, and wondering if there’s just the tiny chance you could want to spend the rest of your life with him.
You should defo write crow x reader x zira. Mayyyybe they repeatedly save the reader from peril because they don’t know the reader is practically indestructible for some reason? :)
Here you go, Nonny! Hope it’s what you were looking for :)
Babyproofing - AziraphalexCrowleyxReader
Aziraphale and Crowley are extremely protective of you. You find it rather sweet, if unnecessary. You’re more or less indestructible these days. Adam saw to that. Something about needing someone to “keep an eye on those two”. You can’t complain.
You haven’t mentioned your newfound immortality to Aziraphale and Crowley, however. You’re enjoying far too much the lengths they seem to be going to in order to keep you from getting yourself killed.
Two weeks after the apocalypse doesn’t happen, you’re walking across the street to Aziraphale’s book shop. You’re not even paying attention to the cars. You don’t really have to anymore. Aziraphale clearly doesn’t know this, however, because you see him spot you through the book shop window, eyes wide. You give him a little wave but instead of waving back he snaps his fingers and you find yourself standing beside him in the book shop. You blink at him in mild befuddlement.
“If you were that excited to see me, love, I could have come over earlier,” you say, the corner of your mouth turning up in amusement as your brain returns to your skull.
Aziraphale’s cheeks color and he tuts at you. “You need to be more careful, dear. You were nearly run down by one of those unobservant motorists.”
You smile a little wider and brush your lips against his cheekbone. “My hero,” you say, causing him to blush an even darker shade of red.
“Yes, well, I wouldn’t have enjoyed seeing you splattered all over the road, now would I?” he informs you primly, although his irritation seems to be fading in the face of your flirtation.
“I love you too, Aziraphale. Now what was it you wanted to show me?”
The next time it happens, you’re in Crowley’s flat. You’re admiring his plants when you notice that one of them is laden with berries. You pick a few and pop them in your mouth and they’re incredible. The perfect combination of sweet and tart. They make your mouth tingle a little, but you shrug it off. Even if they’re poisonous, you’ll be alright.
You peruse the plants for a few more minutes, casually munching the handful of berries you’ve picked from the particular plant. You’re sure Crowley won’t mind. He can always miracle them back if he really takes issue.
As you’re walking around chatting to the plants about this or that, you feel a set of arms circle your waist and a pointed nose press into the crook of your neck.
“Stop being so nice to them,” Crowley says teasingly against your shoulder. “They’re going to think they can grow however they want.”
You laugh and reach up with your free hand to touch Crowley’s hair. “I’m not being nice necessarily. I’m just chatting to them.” You pop another berry in your mouth. “Oh! What are these, by the way? They’re really good.” You shove the berries somewhere in the vicinity of Crowley’s face and he picks up his head to inspect them.
“How many of those did you eat?” he asks you urgently, pulling away to turn you around and look you in the eyes.
“Dunno. A lot?” You frown. Must be poisonous, if Crowley is so concerned. You pop another one in your mouth, against better judgement. You’re beginning to notice a little buzz settling in, as if you’ve drank too much wine.
“Stop eating them!” Crowley explains, exasperated by your apparent stupidity. “That’s belladonna!”
Your mouth forms a little O of surprise and you hand Crowley the last of your berries. “Bit not good, that.”
“That’s the understatement of the century,” Crowley mutters under his breath as he miracles the berries away. “Hold still.”
You obey and he bends down to press his mouth to yours. You reach for him, drawing him in closer as the taste of the belladonna leaves your mouth. You momentarily consider the fact that there’s probably a hundred ways he could have unpoisoned you, but he chose to kiss the poison out of you. Something about that makes you love him that much more.
When he finally pulls away, you’re practically gasping for breath and all traces of the belladonna’s effects have left you. Crowley is looking at you incredulously.
“What were you thinking? You can’t just run around eating any berry that looks tasty. You’re worse than Aziraphale,” he says irritably.
The next day you find that the belladonna and some other fruiting plants (ones you assume are poisonous) have found their way up to a higher shelf, just out of your reach.
It goes on like this for a few weeks, with each of them “saving” you more often than you care to admit. You were a little bit clumsy and careless before, but immortality has made you borderline reckless. It seems fine enough, although you notice that Crowley and Aziraphale have seen fit to start essentially babyproofing everything you come in to contact with.
They also keep trying to nonchalantly offer you emotional support, so much so that you’re beginning to wonder if they’re worried about you. They shouldn’t be. They were there when Adam gave you your immortality.
You finally get to the heart of the matter one day at breakfast. Crowley has very kindly made waffles (by which you mean that Aziraphale has coerced Crowley in to making waffles) and, when he hands you yours, he gives you plastic cutlery. You give him an irritated look.
“Alright, out with it. What’s with the babyproofing, hmm?” You gesture to your cutlery.
Aziraphale blushes and stammers in an effort to be delicate. “Well, my dear, we’re just a little concerned—” he starts.
Crowley cuts him off. “We think you’re trying to kill yourself and we haven’t been able to figure out how to bring it up.”
You blink in bewilderment. Somehow, this isn’t the response you were expecting. “What ever gave you that idea?” Sure, you might have struggled a bit in the past, but you aren’t about to leave Aziraphale and Crowley like that.
“I dunno. Walking into traffic, eating belladonna, complete disregard for your own safety,” Crowley says, looking at you in concern.
“Crowley is right, dear. Your actions of late don’t really inspire confidence in your mental state,” Aziraphale adds.
You frown, starting to feel a little bit bad. “Adam made me indestructible, remember?” you say.
“He what?” Crowley says as he and Aziraphale look at you in surprise.
“He basically made me immortal. Something about the pair of you needing someone to look after you. I just assumed that you two heard him but for some reason enjoyed rescuing me, or I would have said as much sooner. I’m sorry I made you worry about me.” You really do feel bad about the whole thing.
Crowley comes over and wraps you in a tight hug. Aziraphale follows suit and you hum contentedly as you find yourself squished comfortably between your two favorite supernatural beings.
“Try to me more careful, yeah?” Crowley requests softly. “Just because you won’t get hurt doesn’t mean we like seeing you in danger.”
“Fine,” you concede, resolving never to make either of them worry so much about you again.
Prompt : Holiday Prompt #11 - Person A tries to catch snowflakes with their tongue, Person B just watches them.
Warning : Drunk Reader.
Crowley hated having to deal with people in snowy locations, especially this close to the holidays. Sometimes it was the cheerfulness that irked him. Others it was the absolute rudeness and disregard, like the man who’d just slammed his shoulder against Crowley’s as he moved past. “Bloody moron.” Crowley growled.
He also hated the snow, and the salt people threw on the ground for the ice. It ruined his suits and his shoes. But he was a demon, and the holidays were big for deals with people so desperate to get their kids that shiny new bauble they wanted but couldn't afford. A soul for a PlayStation. Idiots.
Crowley dusted the snow off his shoulder as he walked across the street. He had another person to meet nearby and he liked making them sweat.
Turning the corner, his pace slowed when he saw you, stumbling out of a bar and laughing with friends. He watched you gasp, hands going out, palms up, as you realized it was snowing. You slowly turned in a circle, tongue hanging out of your mouth to catch snowflakes while your friends laughed.
“Shut up, I love the snow!” You shot at them. “Oh my god, I wanna build a snowman.”
“We are not building a snowman.” one of your friends rolled their eyes at you. “You’re such a loser.” She laughed.
“Well screw you, then.” You scoffed. “I’ll get a hot guy to build one with me.” You winked. “Hey, you!” Crowley realized you were calling out to him and his eyebrows shot up. “You wanna build a snowman with me?”
“Oh my god.. What are you doing!” Your friends started acting embarrassed and apologizing for you.
“Sorry, Dove. I’ve somewhere to be right now.”
“Shame.” You licked your lips. “I could get use to a guy who uses cute pet names in a hot accent.”
His eyes swept over you, taking you in for a moment. “Give me thirty minutes, Darling. I’ll play in the snow with you.”
He watched your grin widen. “Yeah? How will I get a hold of you?”
“Call out my name, and I’ll find you.” He was closer to you now.
“What’s your name?” You whispered the question without meaning to, you were so mesmerized by him.
“Crowley.” His hand came out to stroke your cheek as he moved past. “I’ll be back for you, Dove.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
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Music: Unwell by Matchbox Twenty and Flannel by Justin Timberlake
Sam sat at your desk pouring over his computer, looking at side effects of magic, magic death, or anything remotely related to your situation. Dean just watched you and held your hand, praying that you would wake up. The two of them took shifts for the next day making sure that some one was always in your room watching you. By that night, they were beginning to think that you were never going to wake up and the only reason you were still alive was because Crowley was possessing you.
“What are we going to do Sammy?” Dean asked, a small tear running down his cheek as he stroked your hair. Sam came over and stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Sam was just as upset as Dean, both were on the verge of letting the tears flow.
“Give it one more night. If nothing happens by the morning we perform an exorcism and then take her to a hospital. Other than that I don’t know what to do.” Both boys felt lost and broken, they knew that they were out of options and they were starting to believe that they had lost you.
They continued with their shifts through the night, switching off every couple hours, one watching and the other getting some sleep if they were able. Around 9 in the morning both of them were sitting at your bedside.
“Alright, do it.” Dean said through gritted teeth. At this point he was not concerned with holding back any tears. Reluctantly, Sam began to recite Latin, his tears falling on the bedspread. He had gotten about half way through the exorcism, when they both saw your eyes flutter and tears streak down your cheeks.
Sam stopped and joined his brother in leaning over you and saying your name, trying to coax you awake. Your eyes began to flutter more than the first time.
“I think she is waking up!” Sam said excited beyond belief and so hopeful. Before you opened your eyes a thick red smoke came pouring out of your mouth. Crowley had left your body and gone back into his own.Then you opened your eyes and saw the happy crying faces of Sam and Dean starting back at you.
“Guys?” You asked weak and confused. Neither of them said anything. Instead they wrapped their arms around you and hugged you like their lives depended on it. As they pulled away, you felt the mattress shift slightly behind you and a cold hand reached out and grabbed yours.
Turning you saw Crowley laying next to you, slightly ashen in color but alive. Not caring at all that Sam and Dean were in the room, you threw yourself on top of him and cried tears of relief and joy. Instead of giving a snarky or childish comment the boys said nothing. The two of them made eye contact with the King to signal their thanks and then left the room. You had more than earned your alone time.
After several minutes of just holding him, his body began to warm up and you had managed to stop sobbing. Propping yourself up on his chest, you both just looked at each other. Carefully, Crowley reached up and ran his thumb across your split lip that had begun to scab over.
“I was worried we lost you.” He said placing a small strand of hair back behind your ear.
“You were worried?” You responded with a breathy laugh. “I thought my nightmare came true.” He leaned in and kissed you softly, making sure not to put too much pressure on your lip.
“Nothing can kill me remember, I’m the King of Hell.” He said with mock pride, all the while knowing that if it wasn’t for you he would be dead. “However, you may have helped a bit.” You jokingly pinched him in the arm as he lovingly mocked you.
“What all happened?” You were still having a hard time recalling events. The most vivid memory you had was Joshua killing Crowley.
“I am going to let the boys take care of that explanation.” The demon sat up, taking you with him and cradling you in his arms for a moment. “I need to go away for a while.” As he spoke you could see the sadness in his eyes and you could tell that he wasn’t completely choosing to leave you. There was a slight amount of panic in your face when he said he was leaving.
“Don’t fret, I will always come back to you.” He said lightly tapping your necklace. “I have a little hell to raise after the unfortunate festivities.” He said kissing your forehead. Crowley slid off the bed and stood in front of you.
“Ok, after we make a deal.” You said grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. He looked at you with a soft smile and just a hint of suspicion. “If anything goes wrong, you get out and come back to me.” You words were full of love but your eyes still held some fear.
“If this is to end in fire, then we shall both burn together.” He said trying to lighten the mood by quoting ‘I See Fire’. The laughter that bubbled out of you was accompanied by small tears. He gave you a deep passionate kiss, a kiss that held love, hope, and a future. Then he disappeared leaving you in your room with the necklace that would always call him back. Taking a deep breath you collected your emotions, then moved so you were facing your bedroom door.
“I know you’re out there.” You yelled, seeing the shadows of your brothers boots under the door. Slowly Dean peeked inside, to make sure he wasn’t interrupting anything.
“He is gone.” You said, absently fiddling with your necklace. Sam gave you the puppy eyes, waiting for you to cry again.
“You ok?” He asked almost too gently. You smiled at him knowing he was just concerned.
“Yeah, I know he will be back.” Of that you were confident not even death could keep that from happening. Dean came over and sat next to you on the bed wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you tightly.
“What appended?” You asked when Dean would finally let you breath.
“What do you remember?” Sam was extremely curious. He had his learning face on, you were half expecting him to whip out a paper and pen and start taking notes.
“I remember seeing Joshua go after Crowley with the angel blade, feeling his blood spurt on me, screaming, and incredible anger and fear. After that I don’t remember much.” Both boys looked at you in surprise that you remember so little about what you had done.
“Wow, well, as far as we could guess you hulked out.” Dean spoke with hints of pride and admiration. You looked at Sam questioningly for more clarification.
“I think your body went into defense mode and your magic took over.” Sam said clearing his throat, waiting for you to freak out a bit. You just nodded your head slowly taking in what he had told you. Then you had a memory flash of flinging a demon against the wall.
“I remember magic punching a demon.” You said softly, trying to recall more. Dean chuckled and you as you scrunched your face, trying to force memories to manifest.
“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” He smiled at you and squeezing your shoulder. “Basically, you used your powers and flung the one douche bag against the wall, then you turned invisible, which is bad ass by the way.” You shook your head and smiled at Dean. As he spoke you began to remember what had happened.
“And then I went after the dragon.” You said, your eyes going from one brother to the other.
“Yeah and the fact that he couldn’t see you freaked him out.” Sam’s voice was beginning to sound almost as proud as Dean’s. “Do you remember going after Joshua?” Sam asked carefully.
“Not really.” You said wanting him to fill in the banks.
“Long story short, you made him release all of us, then you took my knife, carved a demon trap in it and nailed him to the wall.” Dean, was staring into space as he remembered what happened.
“Then what?” You were beginning to get nervous about what they were telling you, the magic taking you over was more than a little overwhelming.
“Then you saved Crowley’s life.” Sam looked at you and smiled. “Even in your wacked out state you remembered him.” You could tell the boys still weren’t keen on you loving a demon, however, you knew that they would deal for a bit longer after everything that happened.
“Was that all?” You raised a question brow, waiting for an answer. It felt like your world was spinning at all of this new information.
“Yeah and then you passed out.” Sam shrugged and leaned back in the chair you’re your desk. “Healing him probably drained you.”
“There was one more thing.” Dean was reluctant to tell you the last thing that he remembered.
“Spit it out…” You said flinging yourself back on the bed, preparing for whatever he was about to tell you.
“Your eyes glowed a bright green.” He looked at you with nervousness. You didn’t say anything. You just took a couple of deep breaths and let them out. Then you remembered that you were in the bunker and not the motel.
“Did Crowley zap us back?” You said propping yourself up and looking at the boys.
“You have been out for two days. We were going to take you to the hospital today, if it wasn’t for Crowley.” Your brothers looked at you lovingly. Then you remembered your memory and the smoke.
“He…” You tried to think of the least perverse way to say what you were about to. “He went looking for me.” You said looking at both of them waiting for confirmation.
“In a manner of speaking, yeah” Dean, was still harboring some irritation. “I’m assuming that he went back?” Dean asked, referring to Crowley going back to hell.
“I imagine he has some skulls to crack.” Sam said lifting himself from the chair and stretching. You slid off the bed and did the same.
“So who is cooking?” You asked with a big grin, happy to be home, in love, and alive. Both laughed at you and were relieved that you were keeping it together.
“You’re probably starving.” Dean laughed moving you towards the door. Truth was you were starving, beyond starving.
The rest of the day was simple and relaxing. The boys cooked you Philly cheesesteaks and mac and cheese. You ate more than a person your size should have been able to. After eating you each went your own way for a while before reconvening back in the kitchen for more food, this time spicy chicken wings and fries, and beer. The three of you decide it was movie night and took your food and the snacks you always had on hand and decided on watching Sherlock on Netflix.
“We are watching in your room.” Dean yelled from down the hall before you could catch him.
“Why do we have to use my room?” You asked chasing after him, Sam trailing behind with the beer.
“Thanks to your boyfriend, you have the biggest bed.” As she spoke he used his hip to open your door. You couldn’t argue with him there. Crowley was a go big or go home kind of man, your bed was huge. The three of you got comfy and settled in for a relaxing night of fun, full bellies, and laughs
The rest of the week was uneventful in comparison to the last. You had managed to start fixing another bike, deep clean your room, and did so much data entry that you didn’t want to ever see a computer again. Taking a break from your tasks, you were in the library with the boys watching a mindless action/comedy, The A Team. The boredom had finally gotten to you and sleep became more appealing than laying on the couch watching a movie.
After telling the boys to finish the movie without you, you lazily shuffled to your room. The oversized bed beckoned you to fall into it’s embrace, though it wasn’t as appealing now that you saw all of the empty space; too much for one person. You missed your demon. The clothes that you were wearing were cozy enough that you didn’t bother changing; maroon leggings, an oversized black band tee, thick socks, and a cozy cardigan. Reading your book didn’t have the same appeal. Every time you opened it, you thought of Crowley.
Back in Hell things were getting back into place, not like Crowley gave anyone a choice. Apart from him making his presence as King known he also had to fix the ranks of the cross road demons. As it turns out, Joshua was the one killing of fellow demons in the hopes that Crowley would show up on his own to fix the “problem”, ultimately ending in Joshua killing him in a surprise attack. Your budding relationship had kept Crowley distracted enough that Joshua had to go to plan B and make a deal with the dragons.
Drifting off, you dreamt about the mansion in Ireland, the smell of the fireplace, and the sound of the waves. You enjoyed reliving the special moments that you had with Crowley, though the memory of him was not cutting it. Your dream began to fade as you started to wake up. It was in the middle of the night, so you were unaware of your surroundings. Stretching, you shuffled out of bed and headed out the door to go get some water. About the time that you reached the door, you realized that you were most defiantly not in your own room.
You reached out and grabbed the glass diamond doorknob and then it hit you where you were. After being stuck in your own head, you were concerned that you were having a very vivid dream. You quietly opened the door and shuffled out to the landing. Though it was in the middle of the night there were a select few dim lights on through the house. Soft piano music bounced off the marble walls and made its way up the stair case to you.
Following the faint glow of the lamps and the melodic tune, you made your way to the library. It was your favorite place in the whole house. Sitting in front of the roaring fire with a glass of whiskey was Crowley humming Ed Sheeran’s Kiss Me while he read.
“You’re awake.” He commented softly as you entered the room. Crowley put down his book, Grimm fairytales. You mentally chuckled at his choice, he would enjoy the gruesome stories.
“Are you sure? This seems really similar to most of my dreams lately.” You responded with a smile.
“You dream about me?” As he spoke, he lifted himself off the cushions on the floor, the same ones where your first date took place. Crowley took your hand and lead you to the fireplace. Instead of sitting down, you lightly pushed him onto the floor and crawled in his lap facing him. You could feel the heat of the flames on your face as you leaned down and kissed him.
Breaking the kiss and looking at him, you were grinning from ear to ear, your cheeks flushed. “I don’t think I can be around a fire place without wanting to make love to you in front of it.” Crowley threw back his head and laughed a full hearty laugh. Resting your head on his shoulder, you reveled in his happiness and yours.
“I am so thankful that, despite the horrible things you have face, that you have not lost your sense of humor and your spark.” Taking his finger, he placed it under your chin and lifted your lips towards him and gently pressed his to yours.
At first the kiss was soft and slow, you pulled back just enough to whisper “I missed you” on his warm lips. The soft tickle of your words lit a fire within him. Roughly he wrapped both of his arms around you, both hands tangled in your hair. The feeling of his beard scratching at your cheeks and chin felt uncomfortable and incredible simultaneously. Both of you began to breath heavier as the kisses grew more passionate, fueled by your love for one another.
Crowley’s tongue demanded entrance into your mouth, and there was no way you were going to deny him. At feeling him, you let out a moan, resulting in him pulling lightly on your hair. You ground your hips into him, feeling him growing hard against your movements. You played this small game of sexual cat and mouse until neither of you could take it anymore.
Though Crowley could remove both of your clothes with just the snap of his fingers, he never did. Instead he, almost painfully slow, pulled your cardigan off, his eyes roaming you hungrily. Then he placed both of his hands firmly at your sides and began removing your shirt. Once the fabric was over your head, you could feel the warmth of the fire on your bare chest. Crowley took you. The first time you had made love to him was nothing like this. This was different, there was no desperation to forget the dangers that surrounded either of you. In this moment you were safe and unequivocally each other’s. The first time you made love that night it was in the presence of the one true King of Hell.
Six months ago you would have never guessed that the darkest soul of Hell would actually be the light of your life.
