just-a-bored-writer

[just-a-bored-writer]

Do You Need Help? — Let's Eat Together (Straw Hat Version)

When the Straw Hats notice that you're having trouble eating, each of them decides to help you, in their own way.

I. Luffy

At first, Luffy tries to eat your food and you let him do it so that no one notices that you're not eating. But in the end, it's Luffy who notices that something is wrong. He pays attention to you, you're his nakama, someone important to him. At the end of the meal, he asks you if you are sick. You tell him no, you just have trouble eating sometimes.

Luffy has an idea. He pulls you back into the kitchen by the hand and searches for leftovers. He finds your favorites and places them on a cool plate, one with dinosaurs on it. Like Makino did with him when he didn't want to eat his vegetables, Luffy takes your fork and imitates an airplane to make you eat. You open your mouth and chew a first bite. Luffy smiles.

II. Zoro

Zoro doesn't understand at first why you're having trouble eating. Eating is a mission, he accomplishes missions. But since he cares about you, he stays with you even after everyone else has left. He divides your plate into portions to give you goals to achieve and rewards you every time you finish a new portion.

He's patient with you, if not a little awkward. If you start crying because you're moved by his gesture, he totally freaks out and thinks he did something wrong. When he realizes they're tears of joy, he blushes and mumbles that it's normal because you're his crewmate and your well-being is important.

III. Nami

When that happens, Nami takes you by the arm and leads you under her tangerine trees. You lie down together under the blue sky, your head on her lap. She gently runs her hand through your hair and plays with your locks for as long as you need it. You don't need to justify yourself, Nami is here for you.

Eventually, she pulls a tangerine from a tree and, after carefully peeling it, offers you half of it. Her tangerines are her treasure, but so are you. If necessary, she feeds you each quarter by hand, without ever forcing you. It's up to you to decide. When you're ready to leave, Nami kisses your forehead, her lips sticky from the sugar.

IV. Usopp

Usopp notices immediately, because silences are sometimes the loudest. He doesn't ask right away, not in front of everyone, because you're a brave warrior of the sea and you deserve to be treated as such. He doesn't accuse you, he asks gently and he understands.

The days after, he sits next to you, because a warrior shouldn't have to fight alone. He tells you beautiful stories, entertains you and amuses you until you finish your plate. Once you're done, he winks at you and you know you're not alone.

V. Sanji

It takes you a while to notice that Sanji has noticed. But your food portions are slightly different from the others, smaller but more filling. Sanji offers you snacks during the day instead of a big meal at lunch and dinner. He takes care of you silently, without expecting anything from you in return.

When you ask him why, (shouldn't he be annoyed by the waste?) Sanji tells you that he knows what it's like to have trouble eating. No matter the reason, whether it's "important" or not, it's just as hard. And you deserve help, no matter if you did anything to "deserve" it. It's his role as a cook, and a friend, that everyone has a comfortable relationship with food.

VI. Chopper

Chopper is worried about you, eating is important. He doesn't want to overwhelm you but he wants to help you. You're his friend. He knows you take care of yourself alone but that doesn't mean you don't deserve a little helping hand (or hoof). Doing things together is easier, and funnier.

He makes shapes on your plate with your food, he puts little paper umbrellas in your glass. Everything to make you smile and appreciate what you're eating. Of course, he offers you food supplements and gives you advice on what kind of food you need, but both are as useful and important as the other.

VII. Robin

Robin makes you a cup of verbena tea with honey, she takes her time to do it properly, without using her devil fruit. She sits next to you on the bench with your thighs touching, and she takes your hand in hers before gently squeezing it. She takes out a book and start reading, not pressuring you but silently supporting you.

Slowly, you start eating and Robin encourages you to drink herbal tea between each bite. She stays with you, from beginning to end, even if it took hours. If you ask her, she reads you a passage from her book out loud to distract you. She never lets go of your hand.

VIII. Franky

Franky comes to you when you've been working too long and forget to come eat. No matter where you are, he finds you. He built the Sunny with the crew that would live on it in mind and he knows all your favorite places. He sets a plate down next to you and takes whatever you were doing out of your hands.

You need to take a break, he tells you amused. It's important for your body, you don't have any spare parts. He reminds you to drink water to avoid any future headaches. And, with surprising gentleness, and your permission, he places his hands on your shoulders and massages the knot of stress between your shoulder blades.

IX. Brook

When you're the last one to finish eating, pushing your food around on your plate and not being able to eat it, Brook stays behind with you. He makes sure that you don't face your difficulties on your own. He doesn't want you to suffer. You're not alone, those who love you are with you.

He pulls out his violin, his bass, or even drags the entire goddamn piano into the kitchen if you ask, and fills the room with music and joy. The melody carries you to new lands, each note telling a different story. And Brook weaves them in a beautiful song just for you. Because you are worth it.

X. Jinbei

Without you having to say anything about your discomfort, Jinbei takes you out onto the deck, the sun warming your skin, the waves hitting the hull, the wind playing with your hair. You inhale deeply, filling your lungs with sea air. Here, the smell of food that made you want to throw up is replaced by the salt of the ocean.

You continue your meal on the deck together, in the calm and serenity so rare to your crew. Being outside does you the greatest good. You laugh every time the Sunny hits a wave stronger than the others and sea water splashes across the deck onto you. You think of suggesting that the crew have a picnic while the weather is still nice.

+ 1 Vivi

Vivi suggests that you learn to cook together. She's a princess, no one has ever let her hold a kitchen utensil. You have no excuse. You accept anyway. Getting permission to use the kitchen is easy, Vivi just has to bat her eyelashes, but actually cooking is another story. But you're allowed to make mistakes and Vivi always seems so surprised at your failures that it doesn't bother you.

With your friend, you slowly learn to cook and love the food you prepare. You even pretend not to notice when Vivi "subtly" makes you taste certain foods to take note of what is easier for you to eat. She even has a notebook. You think it's adorable.

+ 2 Yamato

Yamato makes everything around him fun. He has a vision of life so different from yours but more than anything it is his thirst for discovery that fascinates you. Every moment is an adventure and he never forgets to invite you to share them. He wants to spend them with you, have fun with you. Meals are no different.

He challenges you, trying to eat as fast as possible and competing with the biggest eaters in the crew. He keeps asking questions about everything, about the taste of food, about the method of preparation. Despite you, his curiosity gets the better of you, you want to know too. He makes eating fun, even when it's hard.

Fun fact, tonight I didn't want to eat but I told myself that Tony Tony Chopper would be disappointed with me if I didn't. So I ate. That's why fiction is so important, it has such a big impact on our lives. So I decided to write this little something with all the Straw Hats to help you eat if that's what you need one day. If you want me to continue this concept, with other characters, other fandoms or other situations, do not hesitate. I will be very happy to do so. Disclaimer: I did not write this story while envisioning someone with an eating disorder. So it's not an accurate representation because it's not meant to be one. I just tagged it so as not to trigger anyone. Also, I am not a healthcare professional. Take care of yourselves <3

[just-a-bored-writer]

Hello, hi!

This blog will be dedicated to my reader insert stories, I didn't know it was something so popular and widespread but it's definitely something fun and refreshing to write, at least for me. It takes me out of the format I'm used to and allows me to take a break while continuing to write. And as someone who normally writes little to no romance, it allows me to discover other genres and ways of writing.

So feel free to suggest ideas/requests. I don't promise to be regular in my updates but I promise to finish all the stories I started. I do this in my spare time, and unfortunately I do have to go to college.

I'm mainly into Supernatural and One Piece right now but I can also write about other fandoms like the MCU, TVDu, the Marauders…

I'm good at writing angst, hurt/comfort but also fluff. I have a weakness for friendships, family and platonic relationships so if that's what you're looking for, welcome! I can write romance but I can't write smut to save my life.

In any case, feel free to propose your ideas, I'm always looking for new ways to procrastinate <3

SUPERNATURAL

Between The Pages, I Found Your Heart (Crowley X Human Reader)

[just-a-bored-writer]

Between The Pages, I Found Your Heart | Crowley X Human Reader, Part 6

Gift for @orangegaytorade

You had devoted your studies, and honestly to this extent, your life, to the study of Judeo-Christian lore. You were one of the best in your field, a dedication of hours of work, blood and tears. And if your thesis advisor hadn't noticed, others had. Beings far older, far more powerful, whose existence you had studied but never believed were real. Oh but they were very real, and the King of Hell, in his war against Heaven and the Winchesters, would have great use for your knowledge. Knowledge was power after all and among mortals, you were the most powerful.

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationships: Crowley/Reader

Characters: Human Reader, Crowley, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Reader-insert, Crowley-centric, Beauty and the Beast Retelling, Meet-Cute, (kidding Crowley kidnap the reader. there is nothing cute about it. don't try this in real life), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Bickering as Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Slow Burn, No Smut

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Mentions of Torture, Blood and Injuries, Blood Sharing

Set during Season 8 and 9.

Chapter 1, Chapter 5

Chapter 6: The Eyes Are The Mirror Of The Soul

You hadn't seen so many people (demons, they were demons, not people and yet it was so easy to forget that) in the house since your arrival a few months ago. But at the moment you told Crowley your theory about Lucifer’s Caves, a veritable army had arisen. The hallways were teeming with demons moving weapons and artifacts that radiated an energy so evil it made you shiver. They were legendary objects you had studied in your books, ancient, powerful and destructive. 

Worthy only of a conqueror, of a King.

But that wasn't the biggest change. Many doors that were previously closed were now open, to make way for Crowley's armies preparing for War. All the secrets of Hell were within your grasp, just waiting for you to seize them. You could have everything. And yet what you wanted most, your freedom, was still unattainable. 

It wasn't for lack of trying, but the screams of raw pain and absolute terror that escaped from the lowest circles often left you frozen in place. You still remembered the beast that lurked beneath Crowley's oh-so-alluring surface. 

But these past few weeks, as he spent time in the library reading in comfortable silence with you, ate with you whenever he had the chance and challenged you intellectually in conversations you secretly wished would never end, you tended to let yourself be charmed by his presence. 

Like Eve in the Garden, you let yourself be seduced by the Serpent.

(Was it a little sad and pathetic that one of your only friends was the demon who had kidnapped and brutalized you? Probably, but you haven't cared about that in a long time.)

To say that you didn't know which way to turn would have been an understatement and the uncertainty was wearing you down to the bone. The sword of Damocles hanging over your head grew heavier with each day spent locked in your gilded prison. You haunted the hallways searching for a solution, as pale as a ghost after so long without seeing the life-giving light of the sun, exploring random rooms in hopes of... you didn't know what. 

And you hated the disappointment you felt every time your search didn't turn out to be fruitful. Hope was one of the last things you had but damn did it hurt every time. You pushed open every door with the intention of finding your ticket to the outside world and you always came out biting your lip in rage, tears in your eyes and a devastated room behind you.

Crowley could pay for the damages, he owed you at least that and more, the bastard. You hated him and you liked him just a little bit. But more importantly, you were fucking tired.

Of the situation you were forced into, of your conflicting feelings, of the harmful magic embedded even in the walls. Of Crowley. 

It had gotten to the point where you were contemplating taking a nap on the cold floor of the office you had broken into. This room, surprisingly, wasn't open like the others, but with the ease with which you had entered it, it wasn't closed either. The mechanisms of the hidden doors of the house no longer held any secrets for you. Crowley had given you mountains of knowledge, mountains of power, and it would have been foolish not to use it.

Sometimes you wondered if this wasn't what Crowley had wanted all along, if you weren't just another puppet dancing between his fingers. You realized you didn't care.

You straightened up from your uncomfortable position, stretching to chase away the sleepiness that was taking over you. Suppressing a yawn behind your hand, you gave yourself five more minutes of 'research' before giving up for the day. Your very comfortable bed awaited you and you knew Crowley would be back tomorrow morning with breakfast for you.

(How frustrating he was. Crowley would go all the way to Paris and buy you fresh croissants but he couldn't show any human decency and let you go after you gave him what he so truly wanted. But then again, Crowley wasn't exactly human and you had no idea what he coveted.

You know what he wants, a traitorous voice whispered in the back of your mind.)

The desk was plain, no important documents in the drawers, a simple orchid placed on the black ebony wood. You ran your fingers along the spines of the books on the shelves, absently reading their titles. You thought at first that they must be important if they weren't in the library but rather hidden here from everyone – and from you. But once again, they were nothing more than ordinary works of poetry and theater. 

You pulled a book out at random with your fingertip, a copy of Shakespeare's Macbeth. The book was centuries old, the pages yellowed and aged with age. You could feel the power within thrumming beneath your fingers, keeping the book in good condition through the years. Inside were written three names, one below the other, as if this book had been passed down from hand to hand over several generations.

Rowena MacLeod

Fergus MacLeod

Gavin MacLeod

“If you want to read Shakespeare, I can introduce you to him. No need to bother with that dusty book,” Crowley whispered in your ear, making you jump away from him.

His ability to sneak up on you without your knowledge irritated you more than ever and you crossed your arms in front of your chest defensively. 

“So what, you're going to tell me that Shakespeare is in hell too?” you retorted.

“Unfortunately no, but you know I would do anything for you, darling,” Crowley replied with a charming smile, sitting behind the desk as if it were a throne.

You rolled your eyes in exasperation, hiding a small smile, and sat down on the desk across from him, your bare legs dangling a few inches above the floor. Crowley grabbed your ankle and placed it on his own leg, tracing irregular patterns on your calf as you spoke, his cold hands making you shiver.

“What did this book do to offend you?” you asked, not letting yourself be distracted. Still, you didn't free yourself from his grip. 

“It's a reminder I don't need. If I could have burned it, I would have done so long ago,” Crowley answered tiredly, holding the top of his nose between two fingers. “Believe me, I tried.”

“Did you know the people mentioned inside, the… MacLeods?” you asked, checking the names in the book again.

Crowley was silent for a moment, his eyes distant where you couldn't reach him and his hand stopped on your leg. You had noticed over the months at his side that Crowley rarely lied to you, you would even go so far as to say that he never did. He didn't answer you if he didn't want to but every word he said to you was the truth. Twisted to his will sometimes but the truth nonetheless.

“My name when I was human was Fergus MacLeod. This book is the only thing my mother ever gave me, and it's also the only thing I gave my son,” Crowley explained, his hand brushing the cover of the book on the desk next to you.

“And you were close to them, to your family?” you prodded curiously. 

Crowley never spoke of his past as a human. One of the rare times you had questioned him, he had revealed to you with a lascivious smile why he had sold his soul. Such an act of vanity had not surprised you and you had pointed it out to him mockingly. Today seemed different, more sincere, more raw, more human.

“No,” Crowley quickly refuted, as if there had never been any hesitation about it. Crowley lifted his head towards you and opened his eyes, his gaze boring into yours intensely, commanding your attention. “You have to understand something, darling. I was a terrible human, I was pathetic, bitter and helpless.”

Seeing him now, the charisma and power that emanated from him, you would never have thought it could have been true. But Crowley never lied to you.

“I died alone in my vomit among empty whiskey bottles. My son didn't come to my funeral and no one ever thought of me again after a week. Becoming a demon after I die is the best thing that ever happened to me. Although, I could have done without the centuries of torture and agony, but you know what they say. No pain, no gain.” Crowley smirked as if it didn't affect him. Maybe it didn't, you still didn't know if demons could feel emotions other than a general sense of evil. 

Still, you wondered why Crowley had chosen to reveal to you what could be considered such a weakness. What did he see in you that only he could see to regard you the way he did? You certainly didn't know.

“So it was all worth it in the end, losing your humanity, your suffering?” you asked derisively, you couldn't imagine caring so little about your life, about who you were.

“My human life was nothing but a long torment from its miserable beginning to its even more miserable end. My mother hated me, as much as I hated my son. I had nothing and no one for me,” Crowley replied cruelly, the candles in the candlestick fluttering in his starting anger. “Look around us, I am King now. All the riches and souls of the world are mine.”

“Crowley,” you say softly, sadly. “You still have no one.”

You wondered at that moment, if you had imagined the glint of hurt in Crowley's eyes. 

“I don't need anyone. Not when I already have their fear and obedience. That's all that matters,” Crowley retorted arrogantly. 

“You could have had me,” you revealed whispering, as much for Crowley as for yourself. 

This time, the regret in Crowley's eyes was unmistakable.

Argh, they're killing me. It took me a while to get into writing this chapter because I consider it to be a really important moment for them and I didn't feel ready to write it. In the end, I'm pretty satisfied with it, it's the first time Crowley is so honest with Reader (because even if he doesn't lie to them, he's very careful with his truth) and with anyone in general.

And poor Reader, the situation is so confusing and it's reflected in this chapter. They enjoy spending time with Crowley who softens in their company but at the same time they don't forget everything Crowley did to them. Everything is very complicated. I'm quite proud of the line, "you could have had me" which perfectly captures their situation. In different circumstances, it would have been easy for Reader to fall for Crowley.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, I'll try to be semi-consistent in my updates, especially since we're reaching a pivotal point in the story :)

[just-a-bored-writer]

Between The Pages, I Found Your Heart | Crowley X Human Reader, Part 5

Gift for @orangegaytorade

You had devoted your studies, and honestly to this extent, your life, to the study of Judeo-Christian lore. You were one of the best in your field, a dedication of hours of work, blood and tears. And if your thesis advisor hadn't noticed, others had. Beings far older, far more powerful, whose existence you had studied but never believed were real. Oh but they were very real, and the King of Hell, in his war against Heaven and the Winchesters, would have great use for your knowledge. Knowledge was power after all and among mortals, you were the most powerful.

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationships: Crowley/Reader

Characters: Human Reader, Crowley, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Reader-insert, Crowley-centric, Beauty and the Beast Retelling, Meet-Cute, (kidding Crowley kidnap the reader. there is nothing cute about it. don't try this in real life), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Bickering as Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Slow Burn, No Smut

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Mentions of Torture, Blood and Injuries, Blood Sharing

Set during Season 8 and 9.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 4, Chapter 6

Chapter 5: A Complicated Recipe Takes Time and Effort

After months locked up without seeing sunlight, you wondered how you hadn't died of a vitamin D deficiency. And you didn't pay much attention to your diet either, making quick meals so you could dedicate more time to your studies. You decided to play Crowley's game, hoping he would let you go if he got what he wanted. But at this point, your bad lifestyle habits would kill you before Crowley did, which would be a huge shame. Especially considering you had a new theory to share with him about the location of the Word of God.

Your relationship with Crowley had also changed lately, you had stopped trying to run away and hurt him in the process and he had stopped threatening you, which was doing wonders for your mental state. You still didn't like him, he had kidnapped you after all but you had stopped fearing him, stopped seeing his red eyes in your nightmares. The half-asleep conversation you had shared after you had raided his wine supply had helped greatly. You would have thought he would have hurt you for it, taken advantage of your vulnerable state but nothing of the sort. He had taken you back to your room, left an aspirin on your nightstand and made breakfast the next day.

Taking care of his investment, he had said. You didn't know how to feel about this new twist in your relationship but it was definitely preferable to being his prisoner. Obviously the best thing would be to not get kidnapped at all but you tried not to think about it too often. And you hated yourself for it but you couldn't stop regretting that Crowley had done it. But not for the right reasons. You regretted it because during the times when he wasn't being a massive asshole, you enjoyed his company. He was intelligent, brilliant even with a sharp mind, funny in a wicked way that you secretly adored and temptingly charming. 

And he had also traumatized you, threatened the people you cared about the most and the marks around your ankles had only just begun to fade. You couldn't forget that, you couldn't forgive that. So you hated him because it was easier than regretting him. And also because he made it easy by being a fucking psychopath who kidnapped you!

But your plotting  would have to wait, you were hungry and for once you were motivated to prepare a real meal for yourself. (And you didn’t want to spend another month chained like a dog.) 

You put the phone Crowley had given you – with parental controls to prevent you from communicating with the outside world, the jerk – on the counter, the recipe for a ratatouille provencale displayed and your favorite music playing in the background. There was internet connection everywhere in the house but you weren't surprised, it made sense that there would be wifi in hell. You placed the vegetables needed for your dish on the central island while you grabbed a cutting board from one of the highest shelves. You stood on your tiptoes and as you were about to grab it, an arm came into your field of vision and grabbed the cutting board for you. 

You held your breath, unable to ignore Crowley's sulfuric presence behind you, barely inches away. It radiated cold, making you shiver. “I could have caught it by myself,” you snapped.

“I know,” Crowley replied without moving.

You pushed Crowley out of the way and headed towards the central island, placing your hand on his chest and pushing firmly. Crowley followed you, settling into a high chair with a glass of wine in his hand. You ignored him and cut the vegetables starting with the eggplants, the knife cutting easily through the flesh in one smooth motion.

"I'm surprised you let me use knives," you said when you saw that Crowley had no intention of leaving. "Aren't you afraid I'll stab you?"

“I'd love to see you try,” Crowley smirked.

“If it's so that you lock me in the dungeons afterwards, no thanks,” you retorted. “You've traumatized me enough as it is.”

If your back wasn't turned, you could have seen the briefest of regrets in Crowley's eyes before he answered, charmingly. “I might do an expectation just for you, darling.”

“I feel truly special,”you assured him dryly, moving on to cutting tomatoes.

You placed a tomato on the cutting board but your knife slipped off the rounded edge and you nearly cut your finger. You brought your finger to your mouth, licking the tomato juice off it. But before you could resume your task, Crowley snatched the knife from your hands. 

“Hey,” you protested. “I thought I was allowed to have a knife?”

“Not if you're going to butcher the tomato and your finger in the process.” Crowley mocked. “Now watch and learn.”

Crowley snapped his fingers and you found yourself sitting in his place, your favorite glass of wine in your hand. Deciding to enjoy the moment, you relaxed in your chair, watching Crowley work. 

“So what did you do today?” you asked, curious. “What does the King of Hell even do? Terrorize the general population, inventory his suits?”

“Don't be stupid, I have minions to inventory my suits. They must be of some use considering how useless some of them are,” Crowley said. 

“I thought you had the greatest souls at your service,” you teased lightly. 

“Who do you think makes deals with demons? Smart people or stupid people?” Crowley asked rhetorically. 

“Desperate one,” you answered nonetheless, with just a hint of disgust in your voice.

The thought of taking advantage of someone's most vulnerable moment made you want to throw up, giving them hope only to take it all away ten years later. As if the souls of truly evil humans weren't enough.

“I can sense your judgment from here,” Crowley remarked. “Nobody forces them to make pacts.”

“No, but you don't mind either, do you?” you retorted, the fire you had forced down over the last months coming back at full force. 

“I won't lie to you and say no,” answered Crowley, shrugging. 

“You are truly despicable,” you spat. 

“It's part of my charm,” Crowley winked at you.

You scowled, biting the retort on your tongue and took a long sip of wine. It's not like you could change Crowley's mind no matter how much you wanted to. Crowley seemed almost disappointed at your lack of fight but you ignored him. He had already finished chopping the tomatoes but it seemed he was determined to finish the entire ratatouille. It didn't bother you in the least and you noticed with amazement that you trusted him not to poison your food. 

“Where did you learn to cook like that?” you asked curiously, watching Crowley perfectly wield the knife in his hands. If you were in his peace, with a plethora of star chefs at your disposal, you weren't sure you would have bothered to learn.

“I had some time to kill,” Crowley replied nonchalantly.

“And instead of torturing innocent people, you learned how to make ratatouille?” you asked with an eyebrow raised. 

“You understood perfectly, my dear,” Crowley answered. 

You knew what you were doing, you were buying time. You avoided telling Crowley that you had a lead on the location of the Word of God. Why? You didn't know. But you were strangely hesitant to ruin the somewhat peaceful moment you had found with Crowley. You liked discussing with him. But you weren't there to make friends with Crowley. You put your glass on the table, finally deciding to tell him.

“I have made progress in locating the Word of God.”

Crowley stopped his movement, the cut vegetables he was transferring to the pan spilling onto the counter. 

“Legend has it that these caves were created by Lucifer before his fall. It was one of the last places he visited and they are said to be untraceable. It could be a good place to hide the Word of God.” Now that you had started, you didn't want to stop until you had completely finished your explanations. “I also found this text about a demon named Azazel, one of Lucifer's favorites. The text was virtually untranslatable but it says that Azazel was an angel before he chose Lucifer's side and was banished to Hell. If anyone knows the location of these caves, it's him.”

“Or the one he considered his daughter,” Crowley muttered, typing on his phone.

But just as you expected Crowley to leave immediately to investigate this new lead and leave you alone, he put down his phone and picked up the cutting board covered in vegetables of all colors. You stood there silently for a moment, completely shocked.

“You're not going to go after Azazel's daughter or something? I thought you had plans for world domination,” you asked bewildered.

"I know exactly where that traitor is," Crowley replied without looking up from his task. "And I think I was in the middle of making you dinner."

Welp, it's starting. Crowley has clearly taken a liking to Reader, delaying his plans for world domination in favor of cooking them dinner and all that. I love this chapter, I love the friendly bickering between Reader and Crowley. So I hope you enjoy it too.

It's super interesting to write from Reader's point of view, there's a lot they don't know about Crowley, things Crowley doesn't tell them or half-tells them and I can't wait for the moment when they can both be honest with each other. And it might happen sooner than you think.

[just-a-bored-writer]

Between The Pages, I Found Your Heart | Crowley X Human Reader, Part 4

Gift for @orangegaytorade

You had devoted your studies, and honestly to this extent, your life, to the study of Judeo-Christian lore. You were one of the best in your field, a dedication of hours of work, blood and tears. And if your thesis advisor hadn't noticed, others had. Beings far older, far more powerful, whose existence you had studied but never believed were real. Oh but they were very real, and the King of Hell, in his war against Heaven and the Winchesters, would have great use for your knowledge. Knowledge was power after all and among mortals, you were the most powerful.

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationships: Crowley/Reader

Characters: Human Reader, Crowley, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Reader-insert, Crowley-centric, Beauty and the Beast Retelling, Meet-Cute, (kidding Crowley kidnap the reader. there is nothing cute about it. don't try this in real life), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Bickering as Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Slow Burn, No Smut

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Mentions of Torture, Blood and Injuries, Blood Sharing

Set during Season 8 and 9.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 3, Chapter 5

Chapter 4: No Friendship Is An Accident

Weeks had passed before Crowley ordered the chains on your feet removed. The demon who had done this had a female vessel, a British woman with shoulder-length light brown hair and green eyes. She hadn’t been particularly nice, and yet you knew you would remember her face as the one who had given you back some of your freedom. You felt lighter, not having taken off the chains once for long weeks, even to sleep where you were chained to your bed. You had bruises around your ankles, ugly, reddish-purple marks and sensitive to touch. 

“Thanks,” you sighed in relief, letting the heavy iron chains fall to the ground.

“Don’t thank me, love. I’m just following orders,” the demon replied. 

“You’re not used to people being kind to you,” you noticed. 

“I’m a demon, it’s part of the job description. We don’t do kind ,” the demon answered. 

“And before ?” you asked. 

On top of your captivity, the chains that restricted you, and the constant fear for your life, the loneliness and isolation was really starting to take its toll on you. The demon was the first one to talk to you in weeks, to treat you like a human being. You needed it desperately.

“Before what?” the demon said. 

“Before you became a demon, when you were still human,” you specified. 

The demon's gaze darkened with memories and for a moment you thought she wasn't going to answer. “Not really. But at the same time, I wasn't a good person either. Without even selling my soul, I would have ended up in the Pit. It was my destiny, the minute I was born. Both times.”

“Well, if no one has been kind to you, I will be,” you decided, clinging to the last remnants of your humanity.

It was easy to be good when you had no other choice, choosing to be good was another matter. And when everything had been taken from you, it was one of the last things you had left. Your humanity, the beauty of your soul.

“It's not me who needs kindness, little dove, it's you,” the demon laughed mockingly. 

“Matthew 22:34-40, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself’,” you answered with a shrug. “Kindness attracts kindness and I’m willing to take the first step.”

“So it's not entirely out of the goodness of your heart, you have ulterior motives,” the demon smiled sharply as if it was something to be proud of. 

“Have you ever heard about the concept of friends?” you retorted. 

“Never, I stab my friends in the back before they can stab me,” the demon said darkly. “It has always worked for me.”

“Well, I don’t stab people, so you better get used to it,” you said, refusing to give up.  

At this point you needed to talk to someone, and if that someone turned out to be a bitchy demon then so be it. 

“That’s not entirely true, I heard someone here stabbed Crowey in the eye with a pencil,” the demon said maliciously. “It seems like your kindness only applies when it suits you.”

“He kidnapped me!” you protested. “And threatened multiple times to kill my family. I would say he deserves it and more.”

In your anger towards Crowley, you realized a little too late that the demon was working for him. Nothing stopped her from reporting all your actions to Crowley and in less time than it took to say it, the chains would be back, or even worse. They were creatures created to do evil, to torture people, you had no idea what they could imagine as abuse, much less their King.

“Not that I will do anything of course, I learned my lesson,” you pathetically tried to make up for it. Your life and the lives of your loved ones mattered more to you than your ego.

“Relax, little dove, if nothing, it makes me like you even more. It's fascinating to see how much you cling to your morals, to your humanity. It's futile but admirable,” the demon said, in the most reassuring way that a being like her could do. “And anyone who hates Crolwey as much as I do is a friend of mine.”

“I thought you stabbed your friends in the back?” you retorted. 

“I can make an exception for you if you tell me how you managed to almost escape,” the demon proposed with a tempting smile. 

You’ve got yourself a deal, you almost said before rephrasing. “Good enough for me.”

The demon snapped her fingers and the room spun around you until your vision went blurry. You almost tripped but the demon grabbed your elbow, stopping you from falling head first onto the stone floor. 

“Sorry about that, I'm still new to all this,” the demon apologized with a general wave of her hand around herself and the room, not looking sorry at all. 

“Where are we?” you asked, observing your surroundings.

You were in a cellar, the walls were covered with shelves filled with thousands of bottles of wine, dimly lit by candles. The walls were several meters high and met in an arch at the ceiling.

“In Crowley's personal wine cellar, I found it on my second day here. Say what you want about Crowley but the bastard has taste,” the demon replied, picking up two bottles and handing one of them to you. 

You and the demon sat on the cold floor facing each other, your backs against the shelves of wine and your legs almost intertwined. The demon clinked her bottle with yours before breaking the neck with her bare hands and drinking, not caring about the glass cutting her blood red lips and the wine running down her jaw. 

“So friend,” the demon asked, far too enthusiastic. “I want all the juicy details, did he at least scream?”

“You do realize that’s a deeply traumatic memory for me?” you said with an eyebrow raised. 

“That’s what the wine is for,” the demon answered, not caring in the slightest, snapping her fingers once more to uncork your bottle.

“What do you hate him so much anyway?”  you asked, wiping away the wine that had leaked from the corner of your lips with your thumb.

“He killed my parents,” Oh. “After I asked him to.”

“And you’re… mad about this?” you said perplexed. 

“No, I’m mad because he gave me hope before taking it away. I'm the liar, I'm the one who lies, cheats and steals. Not the other way around,” the demon sneered, her usually pretty features twisted revealing the ugliness of her true face. You found her all the more beautiful.  “But you can't win, not with him. Never trust him, he will use everything you give him against you. Never trust a demon in general, but even less him.”

“So I shouldn't trust you then?” you asked, daring her. 

“Never little dove, that would be a terrible mistake.”

You drank again, downing half the bottle before you started talking. Hours and bottles passed, neither of you talking in detail about your lives before, when you were both still human. The demon, who had refused to give you her name when you asked her, was fundamentally a bad person, detached from her morals even before becoming a demon and yet you wouldn't have shared this – the wine, the secrets, the everything – with anyone else.

You were in the middle of a laugh, drunk out of your mind and hiding your mouth with your hand as you snorted loudly, when he arrived. The demon froze, looking between you and Crowley with just a hint of despair and regret in her dark eyes, before disappearing with a snap of her fingers.

A demon through and through, you were proud of her.

“What do we have here?” Crowley drawled, descending the steps slowly like a predator.

You tried to straighten up, leaning on a shelf emptied of all its bottles, to face him, your legs shaking but your head held high. You refused to be on your knees in front of him ever again.

“I decided to enjoy my freedom before you decided to chain me up again on a whim,” you gnarled. 

“Careful, darling, I've cut out tongues of people more powerful than you for less than that,” Crowley warned with a low voice. 

“What are you waiting for then?” you provoked him. 

“Maybe I like your biting retorts too much for that,” Crowley answered, way too close to your face for comfort. When had he crossed the few meters that separated you?

“You are the worst person I know,” you said, your mind blurring. 

“Thanks for the compliment,” answered Crowley, smirking. “But let’s get you to bed, shall we? Before you drink my entire wine collection.”

With frightening synchronicity, you collapsed into his arms and Crowley carried you bridal style out of the room, effortlessly climbing the stairs. 

“Let me go,” you protested weakly.

“Will you be able to walk alone?” Crowley asked mockingly. 

“No,” you admitted, “but I can throw up on you.”

“I would rather you didn't,” Crowley said dryly. 

“Why are you doing this? Being nice after threatening to kill me and my entire family,” you asked, your head dropping heavily on his shoulder of fatigue. 

“I wouldn't have killed you, I take care of my investments,” Crowley answered. “You can still be of use to me.”

“I hate you,” you said sleepily, struggling to keep your eyes open. 

“I know, darling. Now sleep.”

Reader made a friend and God know they needed one, I won't say the demon was Bela Talbolt but I won't say it wasn't her either. I adore her and I may have fallen in love with her again while writing this chapter. Sue me, I like pretty and slightly evil girls.

Not much Crowley in this chapter but considering he traumatized Reader in the last chapter, a little space wouldn't hurt. But I'm setting the stage for their relationship so in the meantime enjoy the crumbs of what could be, I guess?

I love it when one person is tired or drunk and therefore has no filter on their emotions while the other is fully aware of what is being said. I don't know why.

[just-a-bored-writer]

Between The Pages, I Found Your Heart | Crowley X Human Reader, Part 3

Gift for @orangegaytorade

You had devoted your studies, and honestly to this extent, your life, to the study of Judeo-Christian lore. You were one of the best in your field, a dedication of hours of work, blood and tears. And if your thesis advisor hadn't noticed, others had. Beings far older, far more powerful, whose existence you had studied but never believed were real. Oh but they were very real, and the King of Hell, in his war against Heaven and the Winchesters, would have great use for your knowledge. Knowledge was power after all and among mortals, you were the most powerful.

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationships: Crowley/Reader

Characters: Human Reader, Crowley, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Reader-insert, Crowley-centric, Beauty and the Beast Retelling, Meet-Cute, (kidding Crowley kidnap the reader. there is nothing cute about it. don't try this in real life), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Bickering as Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Slow Burn, No Smut

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Mentions of Torture, Blood and Injuries, Blood Sharing

Set during Season 8 and 9.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Chapter 3: Red Wine Spilling On The Floor

Crowley had taken you back to your room after your negotiation, showing you around the house on the way. When he wasn't threatening you, Crowley could be a gracious host. You were surprised to see works of art as you passed, it was as if the corridors came to life at Crowley's touch. However, you were still a little skeptical about "the real Monalisa where she’s topless".

After that, Crowley had left you alone, not only for the rest of the day but for almost a week. His absence was almost as threatening as his presence, but after a few days, you finally let yourself breathe. There were demons in the house but none of them spoke to you. They watched you silently, hidden in the shadows. You had no doubt that they were reporting your every move to Crowley so you made sure to appear as innocent and docile as possible.

You spent your days in the library, researching diligently as Crowley had instructed, only taking breaks to eat and sleep. You cooked for yourself, not trusting demons to come near your food. Plus, you enjoyed regular manual labor, it kept you thinking while keeping your hands busy. Most of the time, the music you were listening to at full volume, like a small rebellion against your jailers, was just background noise as you were so focused on your thoughts.

Despite what you tried to make Crowley and his minions believe, you didn't spend your days trying to locate the Word of God. Instead, you learned about demons, their abilities, and more importantly, their weaknesses. You had spent your life studying them and yet you knew nothing about them, it was as if a new world had opened up to you. Still, your studies and knowledge were useful to you in quickly classifying what was useful and true. You had no time to waste on false theories.

One of your finds had caught your eye in particular, holy water. It wouldn't be hard for you to make some and keeping a bottle of water on you for defense wouldn't draw attention. Humans needed to drink water to survive and Crowley had told you to make yourself comfortable here. So you tore a bar from your stupidly large and opulent four-poster bed and, with a knife you had stolen from the kitchen, you carved it into a cross.

After that, you didn't go anywhere without your plastic water bottle, clutching it like your life depended on it – because it very well might. You also kept the cross on you just in case, hidden under the clothes Crowley had gotten you. It wasn't really your usual style, classier than what you were used to wearing but you doubted that Crowley would go and ask your family for a suitcase of clothes. And it was better like that, you preferred that Crowley stay as far away from them as possible.

Your family was very important to you, your little sister in particular was the light of your life. You missed her terribly, but knowing she was safe would have to suffice for the time being. You didn't know if they had already noticed your disappearance, it was common for you not to answer for long weeks when you were too captivated by your research. At the very least, your little sister must have been intrigued by the lack of stupid videos that you sent her daily.

But that day, something changed in your routine. You didn't encounter any demons when you came back from the library, and when you went back to your room to take a shower before dinner, you found a midnight blue suit on your bed. A post-it note was placed on it, "Meet me for dinner at 8 p.m. C."

You briefly considered burning the note and the suit, fantasizing about the fire spreading throughout the house, burning it to the ground with all its inhabitants. But you could never in good conscience burn down the jewel that was the library, you would have other opportunities to burn buildings, preferably when you weren't inside with no idea how to escape.

Because despite all your research, the house still remained a mystery to you. The hallways shifted, doors appeared and disappeared and the water in the shower was always the perfect temperature. Sometimes you wondered if the house was sentient. After learning that demons were real, it wouldn't surprise you.

Looking at your watch, you notice that you still had half an hour before you had to meet Crowley, just enough time to take a shower. One thing Crowley had gotten right was the water pressure. And since you weren't paying the water bill, your showers had doubled in time since you arrived. That's why when you went to the dining room, your hair was still damp, droplets of water running down the back of your neck to the exposed skin of your chest.

Crowley was already waiting for you when you arrived, looking as much like the handsome devil he always was. The candle lightning due to the lack of natural light was proving to be a bigger problem than you had previously thought. Crowley glowed amidst the play of light and shadow on his face, the glint of fire in his eyes an open temptation.

But you seemed to have as much of an effect on Crowley as he had on you. He caught a breath at your arrival, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily, focusing on the lack of a shirt beneath your suit jacket.

“My eyes are up here,” you said imperially, commanding Crowley’s eyes on you. It was a mistake, the intensity of Crowley's eyes in yours was almost frightening.

“Please take a seat,” Crowley invited you, not taking his eyes off you. Not until you complied, he continued. “I heard you're acclimating well. I'm glad to hear that. Have you made any progress in your research?”

“Not yet,” you answered, willing your racing heart to calm down. Lying to a dangerous demon, the King of Hell who lied as he breathed, wasn't on your yearly bingo card, but here you were. “The amount of knowledge here is immense to take in. I'm afraid it will take me a while”

As you were talking, a nameless demon entered the room, placing a plate covered with a silver bell in front of both of you. You raised a skeptic eyebrow at Crowley, your eyes a silent interrogation.

“I’m not going to poison you, darling. Not when you’re still of use to me,”Crowley said playfully, not waiting for you to start eating.

“I am delighted to hear it,” you answered dryly, bringing a forkful of vegetables to your mouth nonetheless.. “What an hon–”

The rest of your retort died on your tongue next to the deliciousness that was the dish before you. The flavors melted on your taste buds heavenly, how ironic it was to find a piece of Paradise in the company of the King of Hell.

“Is it to your taste?” Crowley mocked, amused by your reaction.

“Did you kidnap a star chef or something?” you asked.

“I didn't even need to, all the most talented souls belong to me. How do you think they got their popularity?” Crowley answered, with an index finger pointing towards himself. “Even you, my dear. Say the world and I could make your memory immortal, your name would be known and respected by all.”

“Nice try,” you retorted. “But you know it’ll never work. My soul is worth more than anything you could potentially offer me.”

“I have all the time in the world to convince you, I won't admit defeat so easily,” Crowley said, shrugging.

Those few words made your blood run cold in your veins. No matter how charming Crowley could be, he was still a demon. A beast in a three-piece suit. He could keep you imprisoned for the rest of your life if he so desired. To get out of here alive, you could only count on yourself.

The cross in your pants pocket suddenly felt heavy, burning against your thigh. You didn't know how to get out of the house yet, but you remembered the secret passage you had found the first day before Crowley had created a permanent door in your room. Maybe there were others hidden in the house. It was definitely worth a try.

“You can always try,” you replied, matching his playful tone. “But in the meantime, I will ask you to excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom.”

Without waiting for Crowley's answer, you left the room. But instead of heading to the bathroom, you turned right to enter the kitchen. There, you grabbed one of the bottles of red wine that was waiting to be served. You had no idea if blessed wine would have the same effect but it would be easier for you to make Crowley drink it. The words of the blessing were etched into your mind, one of the only ways you could defend yourself here, and you wasted no time in reciting them. Good thing you did because just as you finished, a demon came into the room.

“What are you doing here?” they asked suspiciously.

“Crowley asked me to grab another bottle of wine,” you replied, lifting the bottle to show it to the demon. “If there was nothing else, I’ll be on my way.”

You rushed back to the dining room as quickly as possible, not wanting to give Crowley a reason to be suspicious of your long absence.

“I grabbed this on the way back, I hope you don't mind,” you said as you entered, showing the bottle to Crowley.

“Romanée-Conti, you have expensive tastes,” Crowley noticed, seeming nonetheless appreciative.

“You told me to make myself comfortable,” you shrugged, handing the bottle to Crowley.

“I'm nothing if not a thoughtful host,” Crowley conceded graciously.

Crowley uncorked the bottle and poured the wine into two crystal glasses, the crimson red liquid swirling in the candlelight. Crowley handed you a glass, your fingers brushed, the coldness emanating from Crowley making you shiver.

“Let's make a toast to our collaboration,” Crowley suggested.

“To us,” you replied charmingly, clicking your glass against Crowley’s.

You raised the glass to your lips, waiting eagerly to see if Crowley reacted to the blessed wine. The reaction was immediate, Crowley dropped his glass which fell to the ground with a crash, wine spilling onto the hardwood floor. He held his throat in pain, the wine burning him alive from the inside. You didn't waste any time, throwing your own glass in his face and running away.

The place that immediately came to mind was the library, Crowley had banned access to the demons who were watching you, not trusting them to know the subject of your research and you had taken advantage of it to engrave a demon trap in front of the only access. This should save you some time, and given the importance Crowley placed on this room, it wouldn't be out of place if there was a passage to the outside. Better concealed than the one in your room of course, but there was no better motivation than desperation.

The heavy library door slammed behind you, shaking the foundations as you rushed towards the heart of the library. The irony of running away from Crowley in a library once again wasn't lost on you and you laughed bitterly. But at your destination, where there was a sacrificial altar you thought you could use to escape, Crowley was already waiting for you. His suit was soaked in wine, but in the darkness all you could see was blood. You tried to turn around but an invisible force stopped you, pulling you inexorably back towards Crowley.

“And here I thought we were making progress. It seems I wasn't clear enough,” Crowley said coldly, forcing you onto your knees at his feet. His voice thundered along the wall of the library, his wrath sinking into your skin. “No one escapes me. I am the King of Hell, the ruler of damned souls! I own you and it’s time you understood it.”

His eyes flashed red and he grabbed your jaw forcing your gaze to the altar as you whimpered in fear. “I could torture you, make you regret even breathing in my presence, until all you know is the pain I inflict on you. Or,”

Crowley snapped his fingers and an illusion of your little sister appeared on the altar, her golden blonde hair bathed in blood. Tears began to flow down your cheeks at the sight.

“I could go visit your family, slit their throats in their sleep and watch them choke on their own blood. I could even make a souvenir video just for you.”

“No, please, no. I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you begged. “I will never do it again, I will do whatever you want.”

“As if you had any other choice,” Crowley said harshly, pulling you by the hair to make you stand up.

Crowley dragged you over to a table and roughly forced you to sit down, iron chains closing around your ankles and a pile of books appearing in front of you.

“I expect results within the week. The consequences if you fail would not benefit you,” Crowley warned. And then he left you alone, the illusion of your dead sister a few meters away from you, her blood slowly flooding the room.

This chapter is probably one of the most violent I've written but I think it was necessary. (Mainly because violence only goes one way, I'm not used to writing that.) Crowley in season 8 was in his full evil mode and I couldn't see him letting an assassination/escape attempt go unpunished. So yeah, sorry about that.

But at the same time, Crowley is badass and a villain. And that's why we like his character. We'll see his softer side in the later chapters.

[just-a-bored-writer]

Between The Pages, I Found Your Heart | Crowley X Human Reader, Part 2

Gift for @orangegaytorade

You had devoted your studies, and honestly to this extent, your life, to the study of Judeo-Christian lore. You were one of the best in your field, a dedication of hours of work, blood and tears. And if your thesis advisor hadn't noticed, others had. Beings far older, far more powerful, whose existence you had studied but never believed were real. Oh but they were very real, and the King of Hell, in his war against Heaven and the Winchesters, would have great use for your knowledge. Knowledge was power after all and among mortals, you were the most powerful.

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationships: Crowley/Reader

Characters: Human Reader, Crowley, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Reader-insert, Crowley-centric, Beauty and the Beast Retelling, Meet-Cute, (kidding Crowley kidnap the reader. there is nothing cute about it. don't try this in real life), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Bickering as Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Slow Burn, No Smut

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Mentions of Torture, Blood and Injuries, Blood Sharing

Set during Season 8 and 9.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 3

Chapter 2: The Allure of the Forbidden Fruit

You woke up, drowning in pillows and satin sheets and honestly? You just wanted to close your eyes and fall back asleep. It was the best sleep you had in your entire life, a dreamless one. No stress-induced fever dreams, no nightmare scenarios where your family forgot about you. Only the bliss of nothingness.

And then you remembered. 

Crowley, his offer, the chase in the library. Furious red eyes glowing in the dark. 

You've never gotten out of bed so quickly. You practically jumped to your feet, black blankets falling behind you like a waterfall. You were still in the same clothes as the day before, or the last time you were still conscious, but your phone was gone from your backpocket. Raising a hand to your temple, you noticed the trail of dried blood spreading down to your neck. Crowley must have knocked you out, pushing your head against the bookshelves. And considering the searing pain that was throbbing in your skull, he must have put more force into it than necessary. Asshole. 

But you weren't dizzy and you weren't seeing stars yet, that was something. There was no sign of your captor in the room you had woken up in. The walls were high, like a cathedral, and lit by candlelight. There were no windows or doors on the cold stone walls, just carvings depicting the nine circles of hell. Damned souls burning for eternity, their faces contorted with pain. You approached slowly, as if hypnotized. There was a certain beauty, a certain purity in this suffering. You brushed the stone with your fingers, stopping on a demon wearing a crown.

The stone sank in on itself a few inches with a resounding click, before revealing a hidden door. You blinked, unsure of what had just happened. Was this a trap or was Crowley just that arrogant? When you hesitantly stepped out of the room and no blasting alarm or red light went off, you decided to take your chances. 

The rest of the place Crowley had taken you to was similar to the room you had woken up in. Sinuous hallways that spiraled endlessly into the shadows of the building, your every step echoing in the stifling silence that surrounded you. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to leave the mirage of security that your room offered you. But when you tried to retrace your steps to go back, you realized that you had absolutely no idea where you were. 

Well, shit. 

Most of the doors on your path were closed but that didn’t stop you from trying to open them, foolishly hoping that one of them would lead to your freedom. You had no idea what Crowley truly wanted of you but you had no intention to find out. Until suddenly, one of them opened. Not to your freedom but something so much better, your own version of Heaven. The largest library you've ever seen, books as far as the eye can see. The room practically hummed with dormant power, the knowledge of the entire world just at your fingertips.

“I see you already found your way to the library,” a voice whispered in your ear, so close to your skin it made you shiver. “I should have known I would find you here.”

You jumped and scrambled away as far as possible from Crowley, not forgetting how your last encounter had ended. Crowley watched you intensely but didn’t stop you, his hands in his suit pocket, completely at ease. You couldn’t help but let your eyes be drawn to his face, searching for a trace of the wounds you inflected him, searching for proof that he was in fact vulnerable. There were none. 

It made you all the more conscious of your fragile, of the blood staining your skin, of the fact that you – unlike Crowley – could die at any moment. And Crowley knew that too. 

“Don’t act like you know me,” you snapped, hating the smug look on his face. 

“Don’t I?” Crowley drawled. “I could tell you where you were born, the college your little sister goes to or the social security number of your ex. But that’s not what’s interesting about you, no. I misjudged you at first, I thought it was arrogance, pride in your work but it's different. It's more. You're a curious little human, willing to trust the Serpent if the price is the knowledge of the world. You're aching to know.”

Crowley slowly walked up to you, backing you into a bookshelf. He was slightly taller than you, just enough that you had to look up to stare at him in the eyes. With a snap of his fingers, an apple materialized into his hands, red and tempting, and he held it between the two of you in invitation. 

“So what will it be Eve? Will you trust the Serpent?” Crowley asked sulphurously, his hand sliding up to your neck. He squeezed, slowly killing your breath. “Or will you breathe for the last time while it wraps itself tightly around your neck?”

“What do you want?” you managed to articulate with difficulty. 

“Good girl,” Crowley praised you, releasing you and biting into the apple, juice running down his jaw. “Now let’s talk business.”

Crowley sat down at one of the long ebony tables, inviting you to do the same with his eyes. You complied, glaring at him, a hand massaging your sore throat. 

“Let me reintroduce myself,” Crowley started. “I’m Crowley, King of Hell.”

“I thought Lucifer was running Hell,” you couldn’t help but jab at him. 

“Not since I put him back in his Cage,” Crowley snarled, static power crackling in the air. “Make no mistake, I’m neither merciful nor patient. I won’t hesitate to dispose of you if your petulance outweighs your usefulness.”

You looked down, not wanting to piss him off any more than you had. There was a time for everything, and right now, it was about survival. 

Crowley seemed satisfied by your reaction and he continued. “I am looking for a Word of God. Before his fall Lucifer stole it and hid it on Earth. I need you to find me its location.”

“How do you want me to do that? I don't know anything about Lucifer. A few days ago, I didn't even know demons were real. Surely one of your minions could do a much better job than I,” you said, puzzled. 

"Don't underestimate yourself, darling. This is your moment, you've studied this your whole life. And every book in this room is yours to browse to help you in your task. A copy of every book that exists and has existed is within these walls. My personal pride,” Crowley answered. “Besides, I trust you more than my minions as you so kindly put it.”

“Really? You trust me?” you asked, still not convinced. 

“Well, you won’t get out of here anytime soon,” admitted Crowley, smirking. “But that doesn't mean your stay in my home has to be uncomfortable. You are free to use and explore any room you manage to enter.” 

“Will you ever let me go?” you finally gathered the courage to ask. 

“That's what we'd all like to know, wouldn’t we?" Crowley answered, smiling mischievously. 

You weighed your options, Crowley wasn't letting you go anytime soon and had the power to make your life hell. Literally. The safest option was to accept, for now.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” you sighed, holding out your hand across the table to Crowley. 

Crowley grabbed your hand but instead of shaking it, used it to pull you to him, kissing you forcefully. His lips were cold and hard, devoid of any passion. It was like kissing a dead man. 

Crowley bit your lower lip playfully, smiling lazily against your mouth. “Delighted to do business with you.”

The second chapter is here and there was a kiss! Reader has agreed to work with Crowley, for now. But will they succeed in cohabiting in the long term, nothing is less certain. Especially considering Reader's propensity to try to kill Crowley.

I'm done planning this story and I'm sorry if it's something you don't like, but it's definitely going to be a slow burn. I want to avoid their love story being due to Stockholm syndrome so nothing romantic will happen between them while Reader is kidnapped. But that doesn't mean they won't get closer during this time ;)

Last thing, Crowley doesn't call Reader Eve because it's their first name but as a nickname and a taunt to their curiosity.

[just-a-bored-writer]

Between The Pages, I Found Your Heart | Crowley X Human Reader, Part 1

Gift for @orangegaytorade

You had devoted your studies, and honestly to this extent, your life, to the study of Judeo-Christian lore. You were one of the best in your field, a dedication of hours of work, blood and tears. And if your thesis advisor hadn't noticed, others had. Beings far older, far more powerful, whose existence you had studied but never believed were real. Oh but they were very real, and the King of Hell, in his war against Heaven and the Winchesters, would have great use for your knowledge. Knowledge was power after all and among mortals, you were the most powerful.

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationships: Crowley/Reader

Characters: Human Reader, Crowley, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Reader-insert, Crowley-centric, Beauty and the Beast Retelling, Meet-Cute, (kidding Crowley kidnap the reader. there is nothing cute about it. don't try this in real life), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Bickering as Flirting, Domestic Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Slow Burn, No Smut

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, Mentions of Torture, Blood and Injuries, Blood Sharing

Set during Season 8 and 9.

Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Chapter 1: Deal with the Devil

There was no sound in the library except for the steady rustle of pages being turned and the scribbling of ink on the page. The rumbustious crowd of students had left hours ago, but you remained there, long after the sun had set. And since you had “borrowed” a spare key, you no longer worried about being locked in the library for the night like you had once been when you were still a student. It had been far from the worst night of your life, quite the contrary. You felt at home among the books, surrounded by knowledge, in the comforting silence of the library. 

In front of you was a large window that let in light from the street lamp outside the building. You couldn’t see the stars or the moon tonight, a thick fog had settled throughout the evening, hiding the celestial bodies. When you were a child, you knew the name of every star in the northern hemisphere, but as you grew up – like the childhood friends you had grown apart from – the stars had become nothing but fond memories.

As your eyes grew tired and the words on the page you were trying to translate jumbled together, you decided to give yourself a break. You stretched your arms above your head, lifting your brown sweater slightly and making your vertebrae crack in place. You closed your eyes for an instant and reached blindly for your thermos of coffee, the rings that adorned your fingers clicking gently against the cold metal. The hot liquid warmed you, the sweet, soulful taste of the coffee leaving a pleasant aftertaste on the back of your tongue. 

You opened your eyes, ready to get back to work and suppressed a cry of surprise at seeing a stranger sitting across from you. You hadn't heard him come, no footsteps, no chairs scraping against the carpet. He had been as silent as a snake and, looking into his eyes, perhaps as dangerous.

“You scared the hell out of me,” you said, a hand over your racing heart. 

For some reason, the stranger found your words amusing and he laughed warmly. The hairs on your forearm stood up. “Not yet, darling, I’m afraid.”

“Who the fuck are you?” you asked, not bothering to be polite. Even if the stranger had the best intentions, which you doubted, he should have known better than to approach someone at night in a secluded area. Almost unconsciously, you tightened your grip on your pencil. 

“My name is Crowley and I have an offer for you,” Crowley introduced himself, his voice alluring. 

“What if I don’t want your offer?” you retorted, your eyes searching for the quickest way to run. 

It was a shame, you decided, that Crowley had decided to be so dramatic and creepy in his approach. He was charming in a self-assured way, his easy confidence making him all the more enticing. In another life, his well-fitted suit, his dark eyes glistening under the dim light and his slight smirk would have made you want to dance between his fingers.

“At least listen to me, you have nothing to lose,” Crowley argumented. 

“Alright, you have five minutes”, you accepted. 

Worst case scenario, you could listen to what Crowley had to say, realize he was another lunatic, and walk away.

Ah, famous last words.

“You won't regret it,” Crowley promised.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you answered dryly, still not letting yourself trust him. 

“I heard about you, an expert on Judeo-Christian theology, the best of all, some might say. Exactly the person I need by my side,” Crowley started, trying to play on your hubris. 

A few years ago this would have worked, but now you knew that the Devil was once the most beautiful angel and that words, however beautiful, were just that. Words. 

Crowley seemed to understand just that in your eyes and went straight to the point. “I need help locating a certain artifact. Come with me and you will never have to worry about your student debt ever again. Everything will be paid for and more, for you and your family.”

Of all the things Crowley could have said, that was definitely not what you were expecting. What the hell? Maybe you should have left as soon as he sat down at your table. You were wrong all along, Crowley wasn’t dangerous, he was downright crazy. 

"Right," you scoffed derisively. "And all I have to do in exchange is sell my soul and my firstborn. No thank you, I know how the story ends."

“Not you, darling, you get the special price,” Crowley answered with a charming smile. 

Or what he wanted to be a charming smile. But his teeth were a little too sharp for that, it was the smile of a predator. And you had no intention of being his next meal or feeding his delusions. You stood up and put your things in your tote bag, not caring if you crumpled the pages of your books in the process.

“I’m afraid, I can’t let you do that,” Crowley warned, his voice low and dangerous. Everything you had found attractive about his face had twisted, leaving only thunderous rage, ready to strike. He blinked and his eyes reappeared, emerald red in the darkness.

You didn't waste any time screaming and took off running towards the exit, throwing your chair as a thin, desperate barrier between the two of you. Your breathing was erratic and tears of fear formed in your eyes. Your mind was racing, all the legends you had spent hours studying pointing to the same conclusion. You took a sharp turn behind a bookshelf, the exit door just within reach when you collided with icy arms. 

“I must admit I’m a little disappointed,” said Crowley, his grip closing in on you. 

“Demon,” you blurted, unable to organize a coherent thought.

“If you know this, you also know that it's useless to run,” smirked Crowley. “I tried to be nice to you but, as painful as it is, I do need your help. You should have taken me up on my offer, it would have been more pleasant for us both.”

Crowley raised his arm to snap his fingers, giving you one last opportunity. You threw your scalding coffee in his face, quietly mourning the six dollars you had spent this morning, and without waiting for him to compose himself, stabbed him in the eye with the pencil that was still clutched in your hand. 

And you ran. 

Not far enough, not fast enough. 

The last thing you saw before darkness took you, was a burning red eye, the flesh of the eyelid surrounding it covered in blisters.

I hope you liked it, this idea inspired me more than I initially thought and I decided to make it a multi-chapter fic with short chapters rather than a very long one-shot. Updates should be regular until my muse dies tragically like every time I start a project.

Hello everyone again, I'm not dead! I decided to repost this story, and therefore resume writing it, on another blog for personal organizational reasons. It's quite different from what I usually do and it's easier for me to compartmentalize my different projects this way.

(I'm just disappointed that I can't keep the reviews that were left on my first posts but thank you very much. It really encouraged me to write the first five chapters in just one week.)

I hope you don't mind and continue reading, this story is also in AO3 if you prefer. Happy reading!