#Crowley Fergus Macleod

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Requests for Writing and Artwork

Anonymous welcome!

Note: I write about how the characters interact with the world and each other. I focus on the characters, not necessarily the conflict unless it is interfering in their relationship or stopping them from being around each other. It’s all about the people.

Word count: 1,000 minimum

Rating: Any

Types: NSFW or SFW

Kinks: Yes (it’s easier to say what I WON’T do—No Vore except blood drinking, No necrophilia unless sex with vampire—they gotta be able to consent, No Incest, No pee, no poo)

Tropes: meet cute, meet ugly, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, boss/employee, polyamory, **a/b/o**, kid fic, parent-focused fic, mpreg, apocalypse, damsel in distress (rescue), canon divergent, sex worker/prostitute/stripper, interspecies relationship, imbalanced power dynamics, love at first sight, hurt/comfort, shifter/skinwalker, roommate to lovers, or ask.

There are a handful or two of tropes I’m not ok with, so please select at least **3** options.

Plot or premise: please feel free to give me your prompt in as much detail or as little as you’d like.

Pairings: Any from the acceptable characters. Polyamory is acceptable too.

—-

Reader insert: If you select Reader as a character, please advise the POV, such as first person (I am), second person (you are), or third person (she, they, he, them).

—-

Acceptable Characters:

Reader—male or female, LGBT+, Chronic Illness, Mental Health, Winchester sibling or nibling, supernatural being, MoL Legacy, Rowena’s child, love interest to Team Free Will, Hunter, psychic, witch, etc. (Just ask)

Moon Knight system (Jake, Steven, Marc; Moon Knight)

Khonshu (Moon Knight)

Beau Arlen (Blue Sky)

Alec McDowell (Dark Angel)

Soldier Boy (The Boys)

Dean Winchester (No Incest;Demon, Possessed, Etc)

Sam Winchester (No Incest; Samifer, Lawyer, Professor, etc)

John Winchester (good parent, yes! No incest)

Mary Winchester (good parent, hunter, yes! No incest)

Castiel/Jimmy Novak (Wings, yes! True form, yes! Unrelated, yes! No Twincest)

Arthur Ketch

Gadreel

Emma Winchester

Charlie Bradbury

Gilda (Fairy)

Dorothy Baum

Billie (Reaper, yes! Death, yes!)

Death (YES!)

Lucifer/Nick (Wings, yes!)

Gabriel (Wings,yes!)

Balthazar (Wings, yes!)

Bobby Singer

Rufus Turner

Ellen Harvelle

Jo Harvelle

Jody Mills, Sheriff

Donna Hanscum, Sheriff

Claire Novak

Kaia Novak

Annie/Alex

Patience Turner

The Barnes Twins (no incest)

Missouri Moseley

Rowena MacLeod (Witchy, yes!)

Crowley/Fergus MacLeod (Demon form, yes)

Pamela Barnes

Adam Milligan

Michael (Archangel)

Horseman Death (portrayed by Julian Richings)

Meg 2.0

Jack Kline

Demons

Angels

Gods/Goddesses

[tampire]

Crowley spending Halloween with his husband / Crowley spending Christmas with his mother

[mischieviem]

Forced myself to draw other characters

[happy74827]

The Demon With A Heart

[Crowley x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: When Crowley saves your life, you can't help but think it was a little more than self-interest.

WC: 1858

Category: 99.9% Sexual Tension (lmfao), 0.01% Fluff + Angst? {TW: Mentions of Demons (obvi), Murder}

Crowley is too iconic not to have fics. I said what I said.

『••✎••』

You didn’t know how to react. It was as if your tongue was taken away, and you couldn’t talk, no matter how much you wanted to thank the man.

No, the demon.

You stood there with wide eyes, staring at the King of Hell, Crowley. He looked the same as before: a clean suit, a snarky comment, and a look of disgust on his face. But, instead of being on the opposite side, he was wiping the blood off of the angel blade he used to kill the angel that jumped you.

He just saved you—The King of Hell.

The very man who told Sam and Dean countless times that he doesn't do anything for free and doesn’t help people without getting something out of it. Yet, here he was, standing in front of you, not asking for a single thing.

The thought was a bit unsettling.

"Purely out of self-interest, darling," He says, breaking the silence and putting the stolen blade into his jacket. "Call it a favor that I plan to collect in the future."

He was about to leave, but you couldn’t let him go. Not without a thank you, at least. You didn't want him to think you didn’t appreciate what he did.

"Crowley."

The man turns back around, his hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable.

"Thank you."

The corner of his mouth turned upward, forming a small smirk. He didn’t say anything but rather kept his eyes on you for a second longer. He then disappeared, leaving you in the dark.

And it did leave you in the dark. For days, weeks, months. He never came for that favor, and he never brought up what happened. In fact, he barely talked to you at all. It was always towards the Winchesters.

You began to believe it was nothing but a dream. That Crowley somehow didn't save you. The angel was a fake, and this was all some sick joke. It felt like gaslighting.

But you knew what happened was real. You remembered the blood splatter and the dead corpse. The way his face contorted when he pierced the angel's heart.

It was all too real.

So, why was he ignoring you? Why did he pretend that it never happened? Was he going to hold it over your head? Or was it just the fact that the King of Hell did something nice for a human?

Was it because he… cared?

One night, you got your answer. It was a quiet night filled with books, tea, and soft music. At least, it was before those idiotic brothers decided to tear down the bunker in search of some book.

You couldn’t remember the exact reason they needed it, but you were too tired to argue. So, you stayed in your room and tried to fall asleep.

That is until the lights went out and the emergency lights kicked on. Okay, now you were annoyed. You got up, slipped on your shoes and a coat, and walked out of your room.

"Alright, what did you two-"

You paused mid-sentence, eyes falling onto the figure in the library. The man was facing the opposite way, but you knew exactly who it was. The familiar black suit and hair gave it away.

"Crowley…"

"Hello, Darling,” he replied, turning around and smiling at you. It was almost unnerving. He didn’t have a malicious aura or even an evil one. Just... a smile.

You looked behind him and noticed… well, nothing. You were expecting the Winchesters to be with him, and yet, it was just him.

"Where are the boys?"

"Moose and Squirrel? Ah, they're off somewhere, doing... well, you know. Something heroic, I suppose. Figured I’d stick around… enjoy the scenery."

That’s when you looked up and understood what he meant. He was stuck, quite literally. Those devil traps they put everywhere finally did something good.

You half-expected him to bring up that 'favor' he was talking about or maybe even just demand to get out of there, but he did neither. Instead, he looked at the ground and sighed.

At the moment, the King of Hell looked just like a caged puppy, sad and alone. If he wasn’t such a… demon, you might have even felt bad for him.

But, you left him in there, strolling along to the kitchen to find some kind of light. You were not giving up your two hours of reading due to power loss.

As you shuffled through the cabinets, looking for any form of match or lighter, the lights flickered back on.

So that’s where the Winchesters were.

You shrugged and turned back to your room but stopped at the entrance to the library. Crowley was still there, but this time, his face was twisted. He was clearly pissed.

"Why did you do it?" The burning question you wanted answered for months finally came out. Crowley stopped his little fit and turned towards you, a confused expression on his face.

He looked like he had no idea what you were talking about.

"I do a lot of things, Chipmunk. You'll have to be more specific."

You walked towards him, resting down the candles and book on a nearby table. You didn’t know why, but the need to confront him was growing.

"Save me all those months ago."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You were getting closer, now only a few feet from him. Crowley, however, didn’t back away. Instead, he watched as you moved, his expression unchanging.

"That angel could’ve killed me, yet you came out of nowhere and stabbed him. I know you don't do anything out of kindness, so why did you do it? What do I offer that no one else does?"

Crowley stayed silent for a while, not giving any indication of answering your questions.

You thought it was just a lost cause until his expression changed. It was subtle, but you caught it. The corner of his mouth turned down, and his eyes widened, then narrowed.

He almost looked ashamed.

"It's just like I said. Self-interest." He spat out, his voice sounding like venom. You almost took a step back. It still sounded like the same old Crowley, but his tone was different.

You decided to call his bluff.

"I don't believe you."

Crowley raised an eyebrow, a smirk coming across his face. He was amused by the sudden attitude, but it didn’t last long.

"And what makes you say that?"

"I saw the way you looked at me after you saved me. Hesitancy, almost. Like you were unsure. As if..."

The King of Hell stared at you, waiting for the last part of your statement. He was eager but not for the answer. No, he knew what you were going to say.

He was just waiting to hear it come out of your mouth.

"You care."

Those words hung in the air, both of you processing it. Crowley continued to stare at you, the smirk disappearing, leaving his face neutral. He had a blank expression.

A silence grew, the atmosphere turning awkward. It wasn't until the demon let out a loud sigh and looked to the side that it was broken.

"You’re really pulling on the heartstrings, Chipmunk,” he muttered, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "If I had one, I'd say it was aching."

"Do you?"

You knew what you were implying. Crowley was the King of Hell, the ruler of the damned. He was the furthest thing from human, yet he could walk among them and, sometimes, be mistaken for one.

Was it possible for him to be human or even have emotions?

Crowley looked at you and frowned, clearly not liking the topic. But he didn't deny it. It was a strange sight—the King of Hell, frowning and silent.

It was almost adorable.

"I'm not asking for anything. I just… want an honest answer."

"Well, I am a demon, love,” He stated, his tone changing to a more playful one. “Honesty isn’t quite in the job description."

"Crowley."

You were starting to get impatient, and it showed. Your voice was firm, and your posture was tense. You wanted an answer, and you were determined to get it.

The demon in question let out another sigh and looked at the ceiling as if praying for a quick escape.

"You're a pain, you know that? It's exhausting." He grumbled, rolling his eyes. "But, I suppose, since you asked nicely..."

The man looked at you, his lips pursed. He was still hesitating, which only made you more curious.

"Yes, I care. About you. Happy?"

You blinked a few times, processing the information. Did the King of Hell, the person known for not giving a shit, just admit he cares?

"I-" You started, not knowing what to say. It was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. Crowley wasn't exactly a bad guy, well, a demon.

"Do you actually mean that?"

"Now that…" Crowley started, his voice low and deep. He leaned towards you, making you back up, but the wall soon prevented you from going any further.

He was inches away, his breath hitting your face. You could see his eyes staring into yours—a pretty brown, like a mocha latte.

"…Is the kind of question that will get you in trouble, love."

You weren’t sure what he was planning, but you didn't care. The way his eyes were looking at you, the smirk on his face, the closeness...

He was probably expecting you to back away, but he was wrong. You were an avid reader, obsessive even. This scene wasn't new, nor was it shocking.

The only shocking part was the fact that you were the one in it. And, well, the fact that you didn’t mind it.

"Unlike you,” you whispered, a small smirk on your face. "I don’t care."

Your response made him pause for a moment, squinting his eyes and giving you a confused look. It only lasted a few seconds, though. Soon, he understood, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

"Touché"

You truly believed you were about to lose your chance with the man upstairs, but loud footsteps interrupted you.

"Crowley, you slimy son of a bitch! If you’re not here, we are going to-"

Dean stopped talking as he rounded the corner, seeing you and Crowley close. His expression was shocked, almost comical.

"The hell is going on here?"

You and Crowley both turned to look at Dean, a look of annoyance on the King of Hell's face. Sam came around the corner as well, sharing the same look of confusion.

Crowley gave you one last glance, a bit of disappointment in his eyes, before taking a step back. His attention moved on to the two hunters, his usual smile returning.

And despite the annoyance in the air and the confusion, the only thing that came across your mind was another question that you were sure would take control of your sleep schedule once again.

"Hello, boys," He purred, his arms moving to his side. He was back to his old self, not showing a single sign of what happened moments ago.

Had the beauty thawed the beast?

[rainbowfunks]

king of my heart

[entropyofnuance]

The funniest thing is rewatching Supernatural again and watching Sam and Dean meet Crowley for the first time and just thinking “you’re going to know each others moms one day” like Crowley is giving annoying neighbor kid that Mary keeps making Sam and Dean play with because she’s friends with Rowena or smthn. I’m obsessed with their dynamic if you couldn’t tell

[miiilowo]

crowley and rowena ponies since I did all of TFW ^_^ girlboss and gaslight respectively

[castielscaplan]

In the Lonely Shadows (3/?)

Summary: Crowely's always there to help convince you everything's going to be okay after Dean leaves with Lisa & Ben. But when Dean returns, will everything remain the same as it once was?

Requested by my beloved wife @midnight-moonlight-and-mars sometime back in March 2024.

Request: I've got a Crowley request! It can be platonic or romantic. It takes place the year Sam is resurrected and dean is living with Lisa. The reader was close with the Winchesters but after the fight with Lucifer dean abandoned the reader to be with Lisa and cas never answers ( unrequited love maybe?) so the reader teams up with Crowley and becomes like a bounty hunter for him for Lucifer loyalists. 

A/N: It's technically not Crowley x reader (yet) since she's pining for Dean. Oops, but I hope you enjoy this all the same, my love.

A/N #2: this wasn't meant to be a series AT ALL. But so many people have been wanting more parts of this. So i'm writing at least 4-5 parts possibly more if people want to be tagged in the future!

WC: 2.1K

Warnings: mentions of loneliness, and blood, the reader feels abandoned and unloved, crowley’s nice, mentions of loneliness, and blood, the reader feels abandoned and unloved, sassy & protective Crowley

thank you to me beta reader @mermaidxatxheart ilysm <3

Read on AO3!

[Part One] [Part Two]

--

The morning sun bled through the cheap motel blinds in fragile beams, casting soft, golden light across tangled sheets and the man asleep beside you.

Dean.

You watched the rise and fall of his chest, your arms folded tight across your ribs like they were the only thing keeping you from breaking again. There was something brutal in the silence that followed a storm—especially one you’d been surviving alone for over a year. And now he was here, in your bed, like time hadn’t carved a canyon between what was and what would never be again.

You slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. The mattress groaned softly under your weight, but he only shifted, exhaling in a restless kind of way. The air was cold against your skin. Or maybe that was just the ache in your chest again.

You were halfway to pulling your jacket on when the low hum of sulfur filled the room. You didn’t jump. You were used to his entrances by now. You were used to his presence in your life.

“Not even a hello this time?” Crowley drawled from the far corner, standing partly in the shadows. He looked sharp as ever, his dark suit immaculate, but his eyes... his eyes were thunder.

You didn't turn.

“I figured you’d show,” you said softly, staring down at your worn boots. “Didn’t expect the judgment to come this early, though. I thought you’d wait a moment for it. Allow me the dignity of happiness.”

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s never too early for disappointment.” He stepped forward, tone clipped and cruel in the way only someone who cared too much could manage. “So. That’s it? He shows up at your door like a stray mutt, all sad eyes and leather, and you roll over like the good girl you used to be?”

You tensed. “Don’t.”

“No, I think I will.” Crowley’s voice dropped, now razor-sharp, eyes burning ever so slightly. “Because I was there, remember? Picking up the pieces. The pieces he left behind. The brokenness that you felt for months. Healing bits and pieces of you.”

You turned then, slowly, meeting his eyes. “You think I don’t remember that?”

“I think you’re pretending none of it mattered.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “You’re one to talk about pretending.”

Crowley’s face twitched—just a flicker of something raw. “That’s not fair.”

“No,” you whispered, “it isn’t. None of this is.”

He stepped closer. “You’re better than this, Y/N. Stronger. And I didn’t drag you out of the dirt just to watch him drag you back under. I can't watch him do that to you again.”

“Then don’t watch,” you snapped, voice low and shaking. “I never asked you to.”

He stilled at that.

But before either of you could react, your phone rung out. The shrill sound pierced the tension like a bullet. You grabbed it off the nightstand before it could wake Dean. The screen said: Bobby. He hasn't called in months, knowing Crowley was your babysitter. So for him to call now, it felt urgent.

Your finger quivered as you hit the green button to answer the call. "Bobby?"

“Y/N?” Bobby’s gravelly voice came through the speaker, rushed and strained. “You’re not gonna believe this. You sittin’ down?”

“What is it?” you asked warily, stepping further away, into the narrow motel kitchen, away from Dean and Crowley, although you could feel Crowley’s presence shift to face you as you moved..

“It’s Sam,” he said. “He’s back. Just… walked up to my damn door like he hadn’t been dead for months. Said he didn’t remember anything about the Cage. But he’s looking for you and Dean.”

You stopped breathing. Crowley’s head lifted sharply at the name.

Dean stirred in the bed behind you.

“I haven’t told him yet,” Bobby added. “Didn’t want to until I was sure. But he’s real. I checked. Hell if I know how or why, but your boy’s got his brother back.”

You gripped the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping you from collapsing. “Thanks for telling me first.”

“You alright, kid?”

You swallowed. “Yeah. I think I am.”

You hung up the phone before he could question you again.

Crowley didn’t speak for a long moment.

“Sam’s back?” he said eventually, voice quieter.

You nodded, licking your lips and beginning to chew on your bottom lip.

“Then it begins again,” he murmured. “The Winchesters—rising from ash like bloody phoenixes while the rest of us burn. Miracles walking, I suppose.”

Behind you, Dean sat up slowly, blinking against the slightly darkened room, eyes wary on Crowley’s presence. “What’s going on?”

You turned.

You couldn’t keep the tears from your voice. “It’s Sam. He’s back.”

Dean froze. “What?”

“Bobby just called. He’s alive, Dean. He’s back, and he’s okay.”

You saw the colour drain from Dean’s face. His whole body stilled, like he didn’t trust the hope clawing into his chest. “You’re serious?”

You nodded, voice thick. “Dead serious.”

Dean looked down, hands clenched. “I—I don’t understand. How? That's impossible. Y/N, you were there when he fell into the pit with Michael and Adam.”

“I don’t know,” you said softly. “But we’re not alone anymore.”

The silence after that was deafening. Crowley didn’t speak. Dean didn’t move. And you, caught between two men who’d both saved you in very different ways, stood in the quiet, heart split down the middle.

You walked to Dean, slowly, and sat beside him. He didn’t look at you. Just stared at the floor, jaw tight, eyes rimmed red.

“I should’ve been there,” he rasped. “For him. For you.”

You laid your hand on his knee. “Then be here now.”

Behind you, Crowley scoffed, soft but sharp. “Touching. Truly. Shall I knit you all a bloody reunion quilt?”

You turned to face him, eyes red but steady. “I told you, I’m not choosing. Not yet. But I need to see this through.”

Crowley’s jaw ticked. “And if he lets you fall again?”

You didn’t flinch. “Then I’ll know. And I’ll get back up. Like I always do.”

There was nothing left for him to say.

He disappeared without a word.

And this time, you let him go. You didn't chase after Crowley. You couldn't.

--

As the door to the motel room swung shut behind him, Crowley’s boots clicked against the creaky floor in deliberate rhythm. He hadn’t said a word to either of you when he disappeared, but his mind was racing, boiling with thoughts he didn’t know how to speak aloud.

He wasn’t used to feeling like this. This… uncertain.

You—Y/N—had always been a complication, but he had learned to manage you. You were sharp, witty, and undeniably strong, a fire that had burned away most of the demons he dealt with in his kingdom. Hell, you were the closest thing to a friend he had, and for a while, that had been enough. You were the exception. You were his exception.

But now?

Now, Dean Winchester was back, and the whole damn room had shifted on its axis. Crowley had seen it—the way you looked at him, the way your hand hovered near him, the warmth in your eyes that, until that moment, had been reserved for him. He could see the way you softened in his presence, how his mere return made the walls you’d built up crumble. It sickened him.

Because what did it mean for him? For them?

He shoved open the door to his private quarters—a space he had kept untouched for the last year. The stone walls were cold, and the fire he’d started in the hearth earlier still crackled in the corner. He didn’t care about the heat. It was all about the quiet. The silence.

The silence was easier to swallow.

Crowley was used to being in control. He had a kingdom, a reputation, and a steady hand on every situation. But this? This was different. You had always been a wildcard, but Dean’s return, Sam’s resurrection—it had tilted the balance. He’d watched how you’d looked at Dean. And it hurt, sharper than he’d like to admit.

It wasn’t that Crowley was jealous. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—admit that. But he couldn’t ignore the sharp pang in his chest when you let Dean in, when you all but pushed him away without a second thought. Did you think Crowley didn’t notice that? Didn’t feel that?

But that was the thing, wasn’t it?

Dean had always been the “good guy.” The hero. The man who could pull you back from the brink and make you believe in hope again, no matter how broken the world was. Crowley—Crowley was not that man. He wasn’t a hero. He didn’t care about redemption, and he certainly didn’t care about playing nice.

No, he was a King, and Kings didn’t beg.

But that was what it felt like now, wasn’t it?

It felt like he was begging.

He had spent months with you—quietly, almost possessively at times—and now he found himself trying to find his footing in this strange new world where you were no longer just his to look after. You were slipping through his fingers, and no matter how many sarcastic jabs he made, no matter how many times he reminded you that you were better off without Dean’s baggage, he knew.

He knew you were still in love with him.

Crowley shook his head. “What the hell is wrong with you, Crowley?” he muttered to himself as he paced the room. “You’ve had the best thing that’s ever happened to you right here, and you let her slip away.”

He stopped in front of the mirror, glaring at his own reflection. The King of Hell, the one who had manipulated, deceived, and controlled—yet here he was, like a fool, torn over a human. A woman who wasn’t even his to begin with.

And Dean?

Dean didn’t deserve you. Not after what he did to you. After what he put you through. But Crowley also knew—deep down—that it wasn’t about deserving. It was about how you felt. And right now, he knew what you felt. The vulnerability in your eyes when Dean walked in, the way you seemed to crumble under the weight of it all. You didn’t know it yet, but you were still tethered to him. To Dean.

And it ate at Crowley.

The faint sound of a door creaking open reached his ears. His eyes flicked to the hallway. He froze as he saw Dean standing there, a sheepish look on his face.

“You really think you can just come back and pretend like nothing happened?” Crowley’s voice was low, a warning. But his words were empty.

Dean smirked, but there was no real humour in it. “Look, I don’t need your lecture, Crowley.”

“You will listen to me,” Crowley hissed, his voice laced with venom. “You don’t get to waltz back into her life after you—after you abandoned her. After you left her to rot while I was the one patching her up. The one keeping her alive. The one making sure she didn’t go off the deep end. How do you think they made me feel? Do you know how broken you’d left her?”

Dean’s jaw tightened, and he stepped forward, his eyes burning with a mixture of regret and defensiveness. “I don’t need your approval, Crowley. I don’t need anyone’s, but I’m not letting you talk about her like that.”

Crowley laughed bitterly. “What do you think this is, Dean? A reunion? I spent months—MONTHS—getting her to trust me, getting her to survive, to breathe after you left. And now you think you can come waltzing back into her life, all charm and no remorse? You don’t get to play hero here. Not anymore.”

Dean was quiet for a moment before his voice came out low, regret dripping off every syllable. “I know what I did. I know it. But I’m not the same guy I was then. I wasn’t even the same guy when I left. I left because I didn’t know how to deal with the loss of Sam. You—You don’t get to judge me for that.”

“I’m not judging you, Dean.” Crowley’s words were clipped, and his eyes narrowed as he approached him. “I’m warning you. You have one chance, just one, to prove you’re not the same coward you were. Because if you hurt her again? If you walk away this time? I’ll be the one picking up the pieces again, and I won’t be so damn gentle about it.”

Dean didn’t back down, but the air between them was thick with unspoken truths and simmering tension.

Crowley turned to walk away, his voice cold. “Consider yourself warned.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Dean standing in the silence of the motel room. But in that silence, there was no peace. No comfort. Only the harsh reality that everything had changed—and for the first time in a long time, Crowley didn’t know how to move forward.

-

[PART FOUR]

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**this is your reminder to REBLOG!**

[marril96]

Supernatural 10.14 | The Executioner's Song | deleted scene

[sirlancenotalot]

[shallowseeker]

Do you think that Crowley watched Linda Tran fight with everything she had to protect Kevin, and just...

...thought about how Rowena didn't?

[lenaarting]

Another night sketching 😈… who should I draw next?

[mischieviem]

Yippee more natural soup

[slayesx]

boyfriends

[rainbowfunks]

two little crowleys

[beandraws]

King Crowley 🖤

One of my favorites fr I love him so much 🥲