#crowley x reader super

[dilatorywriting]

“I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more.”

For the event, can I request Malleus for this? I need to send ALL my love to him ASAP. Although for this, feel free to have him being the one saying it to reader.

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 1.2k

Prompt 51: "I will love you forever and when ‘forever’ ends, I’ll love you some more."

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

There was something about being in love with a fae that would always be at least a little intimidating.

No, it wasn’t the unearthly powers that could literally rip through the fabric of time and space with a snap of his fingers. No, it wasn’t the cold, serpentine stare or the sharp fangs in his mouth that shined like well-polished knives under the right light. It wasn’t even the horns. Even though they added an extra foot onto the dragon’s already stupidly impressive height.

But there were other things, sometimes. Less tangiblethings.

You tried not to think about it too much, because you loved Tsunotarou. Really, you did. And you didn’t want some… some creeping thing at the fringes of your consciousness to ruin that.

It was cold tonight, and you puffed warm breath onto your fingers. Normally Malleus was the one waiting for you to arrive at your usual Gargoyle Filled haunts, but he’d had a meeting with his retainers today. And you weren’t surprised he was running a bit late in the aftermath.

‘Man, I’m surprised Draconia is ever on time for anything,’ Ace had complained, during some mandatory assembly or other. Watching as Malleus floated into the room a solid two hours after scheduled.

‘He’s usually very punctual,’ you’d answered, confused.

‘Sure, sure. But don’t fae have, like, super fucked up senses of time?’ the redhead mused. ‘Like I bet you could tell him to meet you in an hour and he’d show up a week later or something.’

“Child of man,” a familiar timbre called out over the snow, and you perked up immediately, hopping from foot to foot to get your circulation going again before trotting out to meet him halfway.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped. “How was your day?”

“Dreadful,” he answered, deadpan, and bent his arm neatly so that you could tuck your fingers into the crook of his elbow and snuggle yourself into his side. He was like a walking furnace, what with the roaring, emerald fires in his belly. And the snowflakes seemed to melt before they’d even touched his skin. “Nothing but paperwork. Perhaps I should turn them all into enchanted quills, and then they might finally be fit for their positions.”

You snorted into your glove. “You’d need to turn some of them into ink then, too.”

“Ah, of course,” he intoned. And then shot you a smirk that was just on the right side of besotted. “Whatever would I do without your wise guidance?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you teased, and then smiled right back in that stupidly, soppy way. “But you seemed more than smart enough to manage on your own before I came along. And I’m sure you’ll go back to being brilliant when I’m gone,” you added on a laugh.

But Malleus didn’t join in your giggling.

The fae stopped in place, and you were dragged to a halt with him. You blinked up at him, confused. His expression was… complicated.

“You are leaving?” he asked, each word sounding like it had to be pried out of his mouth with a crowbar.

“What?” you blinked. “Of course not.” Crowley never having bothered to lift a feathery finger to find you a way home aside, you had more than enough reasons to stay here for as long as your meager, mortal life would allow. Going home… it soured something in your stomach that you didn’t even want to consider. So you just tightened your fingers around his arm and shot him as reassuring of a smile as you could muster. “Even if I had the choice, I’d be staying right here.”

But that just made Malleus’s brow pinch up tighter.

“Then what did you mean?” he questioned, perplexed. “When you said ‘when I’m gone.’”

Ah.

You fought a guilty wince. You hadn’t wanted to drag your own little terrors into his worries as well. You really needed to get a better leash on the poor quips that managed to tumble out of your mouth.

“Well, just that, uhm…” You waved your free hand awkwardly. “You know.”

More furrowing.

“I do not,” he said, sounding grumpy. It was a bit adorable, seeing an almighty prince and near God pout at you. But you fought off the urge to coo over his pursed lips and scrunched nose. Time and place, self. Time and place.

“I’m mortal,” you said finally, hoping that would cover it.

“And?”

Ugh. Come on, dude. Give me something here.

You shrugged, tight and awkward. “Just that, well, you know. Your lifespan is near infinite right? And mine is sort of set to be…” You held up your fingers and pinched them close together. “Uhm. Not that.”

“And you think that such an inconsequential factor means that you will be leaving me?” he asked, and you blinked at him in outright confusion.

“It’s pretty consequential,” you squeaked out, and averted your gaze. “And.. and besides. I knew that from the beginning. And I just want to be able to make the best out of the time with you that I have,” you said, hoping it sounded properly reassuring and not like the start of a particularly peppy obituary.

“…I see,” the Prince said, low. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll be gone, I’m sure.”

You blinked again, owlish and slow.

“Pardon?”

“What is the human expression…?” he hummed, tucking your arm back tightly against his side and starting up your leisurely stroll once more. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder? Almost so much as time itself.”

Yeah, you wanted to amend. But not from beyond the grave.

“I guess so,” you shrugged.  

“Can you imagine then,” he hummed. “How much I’ll love you in a thousand years?”

“I—” you swallowed, feeling tears prick at the back of your eyes.

But rather than give your poor, fluttering soul a chance to recover, he just pushed onwards.

“I will love you forever, and when ‘forever’ ends, I suppose that I’ll just love you even more,” he said, perfectly level and serious, like he hadn’t just absolutely pulled your heart out of your chest and set the whole of you on fire.

You stared up at his regal, handsome face from beneath a soft veil of falling snow. With those cold, emerald eyes, the pointed fangs, the horns. You felt like your stomach had fallen out at your toes, like the whole of you was bound to float away like a balloon lost in the breeze. Because he’d said—he’d really—

“And of course,” the dragon shrugged. “I’ve always intended to extend your lifespan to begin with.”

You gaped at him wordlessly for a moment, before letting out a hideously embarrassed squawk and pounding at his chest with your gloved hands.

“You could’ve told me that!” you shrieked, practically steaming in the cold with the heat pulsing off your cheeks.

“I suppose,” he smirked, catching your flailing fists easily in one of his own large hands. “But then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction to my declarations, would I?” he cooed, all smooth, dark chocolate and smoky embers. “And I had to work so hard to memorize those lines. Fitting as they are, I was told that the moment to use them would have to be perfect, and—"

“Did Lilia set you up for this?” you choked.

Malleus snorted and turned to tug you further down the path. “Only a little.”

.

.

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Bring me a dream, make him the cutest that I've ever seen

(Sam x female reader x Dean, spell-induced Crowley x reader)

Summary Crowley and you are struck by a love spell and Sam and Dean attempt to help you. And they’re definitely not jealous. Not at all. CWs Basically Sam and Dean get super jealous when you start smooching Crowley (for magic reasons). Cas is also there (but he's very confused about it all). Rated Teen. 4.5k words

My SPN masterlist

You were just raising the hand that was holding the machete, when the witch’s weird, magical zombie bodyguard punched you in the chest.

In the chest.

You went down, knees meeting the floor and hand clutching yourself, a curse brewing in you.

Who the hell hit people in the chest? At least it hadn’t been in the boob.

“You… asshole!” you hissed through clenched teeth, just as the thing dropped, one of the brothers, Sam or Dean, having shot it. Then you heard Castiel yell: “She’s getting away!”

You looked away from the disassembled body parts lying in front of you, just to see the colorfully dressed witch book it through one of the doors. You took a split second to look around.

Dean was fighting two of the zombie guards himself, Castiel three and Sam was just wrestling one to the ground, a few already lying at his feet. So you grabbed the machete you had dropped, pushed yourself to your feet and started sprinting.

Sam was closest to the door, and he saw what you were doing. He elbowed the guard he was fighting, and just managed a: “No, no, no, don’t go alo-” when one of the ones that had been focusing on Cas tackled him. Every bone in your body wanted to help him, but you knew the quickest way out of this was to get the witch and make her take back whatever magic she had used to raise those fleshy freaks.

You ran out of the room, having to correct quickly, the angle at which you turned too tight, the marble floors too slippery. Because of course this witch lived in a mansion with marble floors. Why wouldn’t she?

You saw her halfway down the hall. You had dropped your gun at some point, so all you could do was run after her. You were gaining on her, but not quickly enough.

She’s going to get away, you thought, when all of a sudden she bounced back, almost comically, as if she had run into an invisible wall. You came to a skittering stop, wondering what the hell had caused it. It turned out thinking of hell wasn’t far off, as a second later, you saw first a fancy fair of black leather loafers, and then the rest of the King of Hell come around the corner at the end of the corridor. You dropped your shoulders.

“I thought you said this was easy enough for us to take care of on our own?” you asked, referring to the fact that while Crowley had informed you about the evil witch, he had refused to join you on the hunt, saying it wasn’t his style to run around, brandishing medieval weaponry.

“Clearly, I was wrong,” Crowley replied, looking down at the witch who was groaning as she was lying there.

“Can you block her powers or something?” you asked. “The others are being pummeled by these weird zombie creatures she raised.

“Voodoo,” Crowley sighed, as if you were the most uneducated person in the world to him. But then he snapped his finger.

“That did it?” you asked, a little surprised. Crowley raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, that did it,” he said, disdain in his voice.

Suddenly you saw movement out of the corner of your eye, and just as you were raising your hand the witch was on her feet. She dragged something from one of the pockets of her robe and although you tried to reach her, you were too slow.

She threw whatever she was holding at the ground. You could see Crowley raise his hand to stop her, maybe make her head explode or whatever Crowley did with his enemies these days, but she screamed a few words in Latin and suddenly there was a blinding light, fog, so bright and hot that you had to shield your eyes, saw Crowley do the same.

There was a smell of burned hair in the air and you coughed as the fog cleared. You waved a hand in front of your face and took a few steps forward. There was no trace of the witch, but what you saw instead made you gasp.

The voodoo soldiers had all suddenly fallen apart. Sam was on the floor, and Dean with his back against the wall, Cas in the middle of the room, arm with angel blade raised. They all looked at each other questioningly.

“I guess that’s a good sign?” Dean asked. They quickly collected their dropped weapons, Dean gingerly touching his forehead where a bruise was already forming, while Sam wiped at a cut on his chin. Only Castiel’s face had made it out without any marks.

The three men walked outside, following the path you had gone, but the hallway in front of them was empty. Dean and Sam walked ahead, calling your name, when suddenly Cas waved them over.

“There’s noises coming from that room,” he said, pointing at a door that was slightly ajar. The brothers pulled their guns while Castiel raised his blade. There was still a chance that the witch wasn’t taken care of and that you were in danger.

Dean pushed the door open with one swift move of his hand, rushing into the room, Sam right on his heels. Castiel nearly ran into their backs when they stopped dead in their tracks. He just barely managed to look between their shoulders at what they were seeing.

“What… in the…” Dean managed to say.

The room they had walked into was some kind of conservatory. There were pots of plants and herbs all around, plus an expensive-looking plush red armchair. Crowley was sitting in that armchair, which in itself wasn’t hugely disturbing.

What was though was you, straddling him, holding him by the collar of his suit. Crowley’s hands were on your hips as if that was where they belonged.

You looked up when the brothers and the angel entered, and the reason you had to look up was because you had been kissing Crowley.

Deeply. Passionately.

Both Sam and Dean’s mouths were hanging open, their eyes wide.

“Guys,” you said with a small, embarrassed chuckle. “Don’t you knock?”

They managed to get you both to the car, although you and Crowley refused to stop holding hands the whole time. Dean had the brilliant idea of placing Castiel in the middle seat on the bench, you and Crowley to his right and left, while Sam and Dean took their usual positions in the front.

Sam had to actually grab you by the shoulders and maneuver you to your side of the car, because you were busy waxing poetic about how good Crowley looked in his suit.

“Okay,” Dean said, pulling closed the car door behind him an turning around. “What in the world is going on?”

“It must be some kind of spell or curse,” Castiel observed, just as Crowley leaned forward and winked at you, making you giggle. Sam threw a disturbed look at the both of you, then briefly squeezed his eyes shut to concentrate.

“So,” he said, “we need an, an anti-spell, or a— Would you stop that?” The last words were directed at you because not only had you not stopped giggling at Crowley’s flirting, you were also biting your lower lip, very much distracting Sam. You looked at him, surprised by his sharp tone.

“Jeez,” you said, crossing your arms and dropping back into the seat. “You’re such a killjoy.” Dean pressed three fingers against the top of the bridge of his nose.

“I say bunker,” he said, his tone tense, “and then we figure out how the hell we reverse this.”

“There’s nothing to reverse,” you spoke up. “Why are you getting so wound up about this?” Dean looked at you, the most incredulous look he could muster on his face.

“Because we’re talking about Crowley,” he said, “and you were… kissing him.” He almost spat the word. You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t be mad at them, kitten,” Crowley spoke up, looking away from Dean at you. “They don’t know what it means to know that you have found your other half.” A dreamy smile went over your face and you actually sighed. Cas was frowning.

“I feel,” he said, voice calm, “very uncomfortable.” With that, Dean started the car.

The trip back to the bunker took a while but Castiel’s physical presence and repeated warnings from Sam and Dean stopped anything untoward happening between you and Crowley on the way. Sam kept calling Rowena, but only got her voice mail.

After you parked, Dean took you with him, his hand wrapping around your upper arm, while Sam moved Crowley. They brought you to the library, sitting you at opposite ends of one of the long tables. Sam checked his phone, to see if Rowena had returned his message. She hadn't.

“Okay,” Sam said, running a hand over his face, “then we’ll have figure this out ourselves.” He went to one of the shelves, started taking out books, bringing them to the table. Dean, Cas and Sam each grabbed one at random, starting their research.

"What are we supposed to do?" Crowley asked, looking bored. Dean shot him a look that shut him up.

After a while you stood up, strolled over to a different shelf, ran your hand down the spines. Dean looked up, watching you like a hawk, only to see that you were making eye contact with Crowley. He felt an intense rush of annoyance run through him.

“I can see what you’re doing,” he said, and your head snapped towards him.

“I’m not doing anything,” you said.

“Are too,” Dean replied. “You’re making googly eyes at Crowley, who’s supposed to be your sworn enemy, by the way.” You wrinkled your brow.

“I don’t think I ever swore anything,” you said, then looked at Crowley again. “But I would swear something now.” Crowley grinned.

“What would you swear, my darling?” he asked, then raised his chin a little. “My queen?”

“That’s it,” Dean said, standing up. He got you by the arm again, dragging you out of the lustful looks you were throwing Crowley and maneuvered you to the kitchen. He sat you down at the table and went to the fridge, getting himself a beer. He opened it, taking a long sip, then watched you where you were sitting, pouting.

“There’s no part of you,” he asked, “that recognizes even a little that this is weird?”

“Jesus, Dean,” you replied, “get off it, will you? Why is this bothering you so much?” Dean extended his hand, pointing in the general direction of the library.

“I don’t know how many times I need to say it,” he responded. “It’s friggin’ Crowley.”

“Oh, right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So if it was someone else, you’d be fine with it?” Dean opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“Yes,” he said, then shook his head. “I mean no, it’s still a spell.”

“It doesn’t feel like a spell, Dean,” you replied.

“Doesn’t change the fact that it is one,” he responded, leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping his beer. You watched him, then slowly got up, joining him at the counter.

“You know,” you said, and he looked at you sideways. “You’re supposed to be my friend. Would it kill you to be a little happy for me?” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“Crowley,” was all he said.

You scoffed. “I haven’t dated anyone in… God, I don’t even want to think about it. You’ve got your hook-ups, Dean, but I get…” You stopped, looked at the counter, running your hand over it.

“I get lonely sometimes, okay?” you said, not looking at him. Dean was studying you.

“You do?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

“But you have me and Sam. And Cas.” You looked at him again.

“You know what I mean,” you said. Dean swallowed.

“I had no idea,” he said, taking another sip. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you said, smiling a little, “you would never let me hear the end of it? Make fun of me?” Dean shook his head.

“No, I wouldn’t,” he said quietly. You both didn't speak for a minute.

“What if it's not a spell?” you finally asked. “I mean, what if I just like someone? Would you be happy for me then?” Dean looked at you, thinking.

“I…” he said, but didn’t continue when you heard footsteps. Castiel entered the kitchen and you both turned to him.

“What’s up?” Dean asked.

“I just needed to get away from him for a little while,” Cas said, then threw you an uncomfortable look. “He keeps talking about… you. And… parts of you.”

You raised your eyebrows at Dean, then started walking past Castiel back to the library. Dean didn’t stop you. He was rooted in place for a few seconds, wondering if he had just given away his biggest secret.

You strutted into the library, making Sam look up from the book he had been studying.

“And I mean, the way she fights,” Crowley was saying. At some point he had gotten a drink, was standing by the bar cart, holding the glass with the dark liquid before him, moving it a little while he talked. “The way she moves her body, the smoothness and roughness at the same time—”

Crowley was interrupted when you walked up to him, grabbed his face and kissed him. His free hand went around your waist, pulling you close and you gasped against his mouth. You heard hurried steps behind you and then Sam was pulling you away.

“Hey, don’t—” you complained but there was no way to wriggle yourself out of Sam’s grasp.

“Believe me,” he said, gently depositing you on one of the chairs. “You’ll thank me for this later.” You huffed, crossing your legs and shooting daggers at Sam when Dean and Cas walked into the library as well. Sam spread his arms.

“Am I the only one still baby sitting?” he asked, voice frustrated. Crowley turned to you. “Should I make them go poof?” You grinned.

“That’s sweet, but they are my friends,” you replied. Crowley rolled his eyes. “We’ll have to talk about that,” he said, “who you've elected to spend your time with.” Sam ran his hand over his eyes.

“I can’t find anything that really matches this,” he said. “There’s more books in the archives, though.” Castiel walked over to Crowley, putting his hand on the demon’s shoulder.

“I’ll take him with me,” the angel said. “So that there are no more… shenanigans.”

Dean frowned. “Shenanigans?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes, shenanigans,” he replied.

“Great,” Dean said, scratching his forehead.

Then the two men were walking off, but not before Crowley threw another lust-filled look your way. You sighed, leaning back in the chair, while Dean went for the bar cart. Sam was standing near you, looking down at a book opened before him.

“And?” you asked, looking up at him. “You close to finding your cure yet?”

“Not yet,” Sam replied, not taking his eyes off the book.

“Maybe because there is none,” you said.

“Everything has a cure,” Sam replied, his voice stoic.

“Ebola doesn’t,” you replied. Sam scoffed.

“What a fitting comparison,” he muttered.

“Don’t you start, too,” you said, and Sam finally looked at you.

“Can I just… focus on this?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Sam,” you said, leaning forward. “Just… let me be happy.”

Sam shook his head. “You’re not actually happy, it’s just the spell telling you you are.”

“So?” you asked, and now you were the one raising her eyebrows. “It feels the same. Why is that so bad?”

"It's not real," he answered.

You shrugged. "Reality's complicated," you replied.

Sam thought for a second, and when he didn’t immediately find a fitting response, he pivoted. “You don’t even know Crowley,” he responded. “I mean, really know him.”

“Oh please,” you said, “that kind of stuff doesn’t matter.” Sam frowned at you. “What,” you said, laughing a little, “I need to know what his favorite song is or, or his birthday or all his hopes and dreams to be in love with him?” Sam nodded.

“Yes,” he said. "That's kind of important."

“Come on, Sam,” you said. “Do you know those things about anyone?” Sam clenched his jaw and he looked down at the table again.

“Yeah, a couple of people actually,” he replied, not clarifying.

“Those are just facts, though,” you said, leaning forward, trying to get him to look at you again. “They don’t mean anything.”

“Some of them do,” Sam said, and looked back at you.

“Like what?” you asked.

“Like…” Sam said, then was quiet for a second. “Like I know you always look at those little cottages online. That you would like to buy one one day.”

You watched him intently as he talked. 

"And I know you would like to have a dog,” he said, then chuckled to himself. “But you’d settle for a turtle.” You looked a little awkward for a  moment.

“It’s not settling,” you said then, in a small voice. “Turtles are awesome.” Sam grinned.

“Yeah,” he said absentmindedly, as he continued scanning the text. Suddenly he stood up straight.

“What?” you asked, your eyes following him.

“I think I got it,” he said. You leaned over, scanning the book, then frowned. “You really think a guy called Rudolphus the Wistful  is gonna have the answer?” Sam looked at you, then chuckled. His fingers ran over the page, going lower, until they stopped.

“Oh,” he said. You looked up at him.

“Let me guess,” you said. “It’s not a spell and I was right all along?” Sam shook his head.

“It’s, uhm,” and then he went quiet.

“What?” you said, suddenly sounding a little worried. When Sam still didn’t answer, you got up, stood next to him and read what it said on the page.

And who that is smytun with a swerd, may oonly be delyuered, bi kissyng of oon that loueth hem.

“What does that mean?” you asked, looking up at Sam.

“It’s Middle English,” he said. “It means that if you’re struck by this spell it can only be removed if you’re kissed by someone who loves you.” You frowned.

“But I already kissed Crowley,” you said, shrugging. Sam looked down at you.

“I don’t think that’s what it means, but I…” he stopped himself, not taking his eyes off you. “I just…” he said but stopped again. You widened your eyes in question.

“You what?” you asked. Sam was chewing the inside of his lip while he was thinking. Then he looked up, his eyes searching for Dean. His brother was back at the cart for a refill across the room, his back to the two of you. Sam nodded to himself, then looked at you again.

Suddenly you felt one of his big hands on the side of your face.

“I just want to try something,” he said, his voice low. Before you had a second to wonder what he meant, he was leaning down, your lips gently meeting. It lasted only for a  second, and then Sam was pulling back, his hand still holding you.

“Anything?” he asked. You frowned but before you could say anything, Dean was stomping up behind you.

“The hell are you doing?” he asked, his voice outraged. “That damn spell get you too?” he asked.

Before Sam could answer, you turned to Dean and, grabbing him with one fist by the t-shirt, pulled him towards you and kissed him as well. When you let go of him Dean nearly stumbled from how much he had leaned into the kiss. You looked at the brothers, both their eyes wide in shock.

“See?” you said, raising your hands. “It doesn’t do anything, and neither would a potion or an anti-spell or if I sang a Beatles song backwards. Because it is not a spell.” You punctuated the last words with your hand whirling in front of their faces.

“Uhm, okay,” Dean said, seeming a little rattled. “Somebody catch me up?” Sam collected himself as well, then pointed at the book. He quickly licked his lips, then explained:

“I thought I found something, it says here that the spell can be broken when the affected person is kissed by someone who loves them.” He cleared his throat, awkwardly, while Dean considered the implications of what he had just heard.

“Oh,” he said, also clearing his throat, then added: “Uhm, uh,” and nothing more. Sam narrowed his eyes as they scanned the page again.

“Wait, it says something else,” he added, then read while moving his lips.

“What is it?” Dean asked, sounding as casual as possible.

“Does it say that it’s not a spell and you should just believe me?” you asked in a cocky voice, the brothers pointedly ignoring you.

“It says,” Sam said, and then he sounded sad, defeated. “It says the love must be reciprocated by the affected person, or the kiss has no effect.” Sam swallowed, then shut the book. “I guess now we know why it didn’t work,” he said, his voice clipped. Dean took a second to catch up, then he looked at you.

“Oh,” he said again. It was quiet for a moment, while you looked back and forth between the two men. You were just about to say something when a voice cut the quiet.

“Usually I would ask what in the world the three of you are doing,” Rowena said from the far end of the room, and all three of you looked up at her. “But in this case I think I am happy to live in blissful ignorance.”

“Rowena,” Sam said, “you got my messages?”

“Not here for you, Samuel,” Rowena answered, and started walking over to you. “I’ve heard rumors that my son has been hexed and I thought, where could he be? And of course the first place I looked was here with his sworn enemies.” You raised your hands, then dropped them by your side.

“When is everyone doing all this swearing?” you asked.

“I can’t have people using his vulnerable state to their advantage,” Rowena continued, then made a face. “Or worse, laugh at him. They cannot see us as weak.” There were footsteps behind you and as you turned, Castiel and Crowley came back into the library.

“Mother,” Crowley said, looking less than happy. “I thought I smelled a note of evil incarnate.”

“Fergus,” Rowena responded, “whatever it is that useless voodoo witch has done to you, I’m here to reverse it.”

Just then you separated from Sam and Dean, instead walking over to Crowley, wrapping one arm around him while standing next to him. Rowena frowned at the picture.

“There’s no need for any reversing,” Crowley explained. “We are quite happy. It’s a simple case of us realizing our feeling for each other.” To everyone’s surprise, Rowena’s face lit up.

“Really?” she said, then looked at you. “You two do make a pretty couple. Maybe I won't reverse it.” You giggled, Crowley pulling you closer.

“You’re joking, right?” Sam asked the witch.

“Have you seen the harlots he usually runs with?” she asked. “It’s disgraceful for a king. A partner would do wonders for his popularity.” Then she looked back at you.

“Also,” she continued, “he could do worse, she’s actually useful. As opposed to some people.” Rowena rolled her eyes at Sam and Dean.

“I can think of some uses for you,” Crowley said in a low, seductive voice, looking down at you and leaning closer.

"And what would that be?" you said, looking at his lips.

“You would make a wonderful mother to my heir,” Crowley replied.

A small moan left you and you kissed him deeply. Dean looked like he was about to be sick.

“I need to Clorox my brain,” he muttered.

But the happy expression was also slowly vanishing from Rowena’s face. Castiel was the only one still playing with enough of a full deck to catch it.

“An heir,” he said, looking at the witch. “That would put you where exactly, on the succession to the throne?” Rowena looked at him with an expression so annoyed it might have accidentally set something on fire.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll revert it.” And before anyone else could react, she pointed at you and Crowley, saying a few words in Latin.

You blinked, then looked to your left and immediately jumped back.

“What in the—” you said while Crowley looked around, confused. You turned to Sam and Dean.

"Why was I touching Crowley?” you asked, voice a little shrill.

“Oh,” Rowena said, “there might be some memory loss accompanying the cure. Might be for the best.” Then she snapped her finger. “Fergus, we are leaving.” Crowley was still confused enough to follow the order.

“Thank you, Rowena,” Sam said and the short woman turned to him.

“You owe me,” she said, then her eyes fell on the book behind him.

“Oh, you were really on the wrong track,” she said, pointing at the book. Dean turned, also looking.

“What,” he said to Rowena, “Rudy not worth the hype?” Rowena scoffed.

“They should call him Rudolphus the Horny,” she responded. “He made up a bunch of kissing cures in the sixteenth century. Got the boils? Kiss someone. Bad with money? Kiss someone. You ask me, he was just trying to get around. There’s no proof that anything he wrote ever worked, but there is some solid evidence that his kissing cure was part of what made the Black Death spread so fast.”

Rowena hooked her arm through Crowley’s. “Anyway,” she said, and then the two were walking off. It was quiet for a moment, then Castiel, Sam and Dean all turned to you.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked.

“Disturbed,” you answered.

“What do you remember?” Castiel asked.

“Not much,” you replied, then made a face. “I didn’t… touch Crowley any more than that, did I?” When the three men didn’t respond, your eyes widened.

“I didn’t kiss him right?” you said, your voice starting to sound panicked. Still none of them replied, all making faces.

“I need to shower,” you said, sounding defeated, then added: “From the inside, if such a thing is possible.”

“We tried to stop you,” Dean said, “but you were… insistent.”

“Aaahh,” you said, your hands going to your ears. “I don’t wanna hear that.” You pulled up your shoulders, shaking yourself and dropped your hands.

“Did I do anything else weird?” you asked, looking back at the brothers. They both went quiet for a second, uhm-ing and ah-ing.

“What?” you frowned at them. They didn’t answer, and then Dean blurted out: “Crowley talked about knocking you up.”  Your eyes went wide.

“I need to…” and then you were walking out of the room, stopping at the bar cart to grab one of the bottles. And off you went. Dean turned to Sam.

“Awesome,” he said in a sarcastic tone.

Castiel watched as the two brothers moved awkwardly around each other, each of them finally settling in a different chair, pretending to read something. The angel shook his head and sat down as well.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

These Old Things (Gomens Drabble)

Crowley x GN!Reader

Summary: Crowley has a bit of a self-revelation when his wings pop out upon seeing you.

Fic type: romantic fluff.

EVERYTHING: @winchxters

GOMENS: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @florduarte @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @jaziona92 @slightlymediocree @strwbrrfd @paper-and-stardust (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Crowley didn't even realise it at first. He was so busy watching you. You- so perfectly human. So perfectly ordinary. You weren't even doing anything super out there either- you were just... out on your balcony watering a plant.

And yet to Crowley, a demon of Hell and a fallen angel, you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. How could you not be, really?

When you turn around, Crowley's worried he's about to get whisked away by some horrifying Hell-beast sent to drag him back down under and no, he doesn't mean Australia. Although sometimes he had to wonder if Australia wasn't some elaborately planned prank to poorly imitate Hell. But that was a different question.

Anyway, where was he? Oh, yes, when you turned around and made eye contact with him, Crowley thought that given the look on your face, maybe Hastur had somehow made a triumphant return. That would have been less than stellar and Crowley wasn't quite sure what to make of the implications of that if it were true.

"Mm- what," Crowley asked, brows creasing in concern as he twisted his rather bendy neck to look behind him. Seeing a swish of black cross over his shoulder, Crowley wondered just what it could- oh. Oh. His- his wings were out. Why were his wings out?

"You- you're-" you stuttered, pansies forgotten and drowning under the water you were still pouring on top of them.

"I am," Crowley replied, just as confused as you.

"God, Crowley," you breathed, setting the watering can down without breaking your gaze away from the feathered appendages stretching and flittering against the breeze in your apartment.

"Mm," Crowley hummed. "Not so much on the first, but go on."

He's nervous, you realise. About your reaction. He's worried you're going to react negatively and he's going to have to leave you. Silly demon. You could never.

"They're gorgeous," you rushed out, stepping towards him, hand outstretched gingerly. "Can I touch one?"

"Sure, I guess," he answered, actually looking rather unsure. He swallowed thickly when you make contact, fingers softly trailing the ridges of a feather. "These old things- had them for ages. Since the dawn of time, really... Almost."

"Where'd they come from?" You asked, ignoring his rambling. "As in- just now?" You clarified quickly. If you didn't, you were sure to receive a deflective answer.

"Not sure, really. Think maybe- because I was thinking about something. 'Bout you."

"About me?" Your eyes darted to his and you immediately understood. You could see it in those slitted eyes. He was in love. With you. Crowley was in love with you. Not that you didn't already know that- what with having been together for a good few months by now, but he had finally really and truly come to the realisation on his own. You were his forever.

"About you," he confirmed, voice soft.

It was a good think he was your forever, too.

[himasgod]

Hi! Found your work through a friend! I was hope I could get some Headcanons! Mainly for Crowley (platonically) but if you could do Riddle and Ruggie (romantically) too, That’s be great! No pressure tho!

anyway! Headcanons for a Yuu who was forced to dress up as a boy most of her life and wants to start acting more feminine but has imposter syndrome, where she thinks she’s not girly enough or like she’s pretending to be a girl. General comfort and them trying to bring up her confidence!

please take your time! And if you can write it Tysm!!🩷

CROWLEY, RIDDLE AND RUGGIE X READER

Where you start dressing more feminine, but feel like it's not enough to be a "girl"

Crowley isn’t the most emotionally perceptive person… but he does notice when you start showing up in clothes you never wore before, or hesitating before speaking in front of others.

He doesn’t make a huge deal out of it. In fact, that’s part of what’s comforting—he treats it as normal. One day he just says, “Oh? New look? Quite charming. Very you.”

When you doubt yourself—like if you mumble something about not really being good at this, he just waves a hand. “Please, nonsense. Being yourself is always in fashion.”

He doesn't pry. He just quietly starts being more mindful. He uses the right pronouns. He redirects any awkward comments from other students. And he keeps your name written correctly on every form. (Which is impressive, considering how bad he is with paperwork.)

Once, after a particularly long day where you felt all out of place again, he just pats your shoulder lightly and says, “Don’t rush it. Just walk your own path, little prefect. You’re doing fine.”

Riddle isn’t super talkative about emotions, but he’s observant. The first time you wear a bow in your hair, he notices—but doesn’t make a fuss. “It suits you,” he says simply, red as his hair.

He doesn’t try to define femininity. That’s not his place. Instead, he supports you by being steady. If you’re doubting yourself, he reminds you of facts: “You’re allowed to choose how you present yourself. No one else can define that for you.”

One afternoon you tell him quietly, “I still feel like I’m pretending sometimes.” He pauses, frowns thoughtfully, and replies, “You’re not pretending. You’re learning how to be true to yourself. That’s not the same thing at all.”

He’s more actions than words. Offering you the tea you like. Holding your hand when the stares get to you. Always walking by your side.

Ruggie’s casual about it in the best way. He notices, of course—but he doesn’t tease. Not about this. He grins, bumps your shoulder, and says, “Look at you. Rockin’ that outfit like it’s nothin’.”

He treats your change like a natural part of who you are. Not weird. Not confusing. Just… you. “You look more relaxed now,” he says once. “Like you’re not holding your breath.”

When you admit to feeling like an imposter—“I don’t feel like I’m really a girl. I don’t feel girly enough.”—he gives you this little squint and goes, “Pfft. Who even decides that stuff? You’re a girl ‘cause you are, not ‘cause of how you dress or walk or whatever.”

He’s the type to support you quietly. If someone misgenders you, he casually corrects them like it’s no big deal. If you’re feeling down, he might drag you to get something (stolen probably) and act like it’s his idea.

“You ain’t pretending. You’re just catching up to yourself,” he says with a soft grin, tossing you a hair tie. “Takes time. You’ll get there.”

[eras-mus]

hi can i request jamil with a scarabia first year (platonic and male reader) who is his iago. like the reader is a beastman bird or just wears feathered accessories, is brutally honest as it is to be comical to others, knows jamil's true nature and is his partner in crime.

Birds Of A Feather

Jamil Viper x Platonic! Macaw! Male Reader

Summary: Y/n was one of the most extravagant students in Scarabia, from his beautiful multi-colored wings to his elegant outfits. Everyone knew him. How could you not? He was loud, funny, and left a trail of feathers. He seemed to be the opposite of his best friend, Jamil Viper.

★I love this idea so much!!!

★Takes place during the 4th book

-

No one would have ever guessed Y/ns true intentions.

It just goes to show how misleading appearances are in this world.

At least that's what Yuu told themself as they walked back to the Scarabia dorm, sand in their shoes, betrayal lingering in the air.

"You look so beautiful all dressed up." That was the first thing Yuu ever told Y/n "Why are you dressed up?"

"I feel the most like myself when I'm dressed like this"

That moment would be the beginning of a friendship that was more valued by Yuu than Y/n.

As the group continued on their long walk back to the Scarabia dorms conversation of missed signs began.

"Kalim, did Jamil ever seem unhappy in your company?"

"How long had Jamil been working for your family?"

"How much work did he do?"

Most of these questions were answered by a sobbing Kalim, who had to take multiple breaths in-between each word, but there were some that Azul was able to answer, thanks to his extensive knowledge of every student on the campus.

"What about Y/n?" Yuu piped up; voice slightly cracking "Did he ever seem off?"

"And then Azul overblotted, because that's just the luck I have in this world-" Yuu sighed, recapping the events of winter break to Y/n. "And, like always, I had to take care of it myself because Crowley is never any help."

"I wish I could say I was surprised by Azul." Y/ns wings twitched slightly, a couple feathers falling stray. "He always seemed rather fragile, similar to Kalim in that sense."

Y/n had brought up his house-warden multiple times to Yuu. He would tell them how reckless and childish Kalim was, like a baby everyone had to walk on eggshells around. Yuu never saw the same dark look in Y/ns eyes like when he was talking about Kalim.

"Anyway-" Y/n spoke, switching back to his typical demeanor, "-What do you think of my hair, I wanted to try a new style to show off my new earrings!"

"I don't know Yuu, he and you were close, so wouldn't you know if there was something off." Azul made eye contact with Yuu, letting his words sink in.

"I can't recall..." Yuu replied, lying through their teeth. "He was always so honest."

"Well apparently he wasn't."

The group fell silent after that, soon everyone returned to their thoughts and reflections about the recent events.

It was a bright sunny afternoon, Y/n and Ruggie had decided to skip clubs to hang out with Yuu, Grim was taking a nap somewhere unknown. They were sitting in the shade of a tree near the Ramshackle dorm, laughing until they couldn't breathe.

"So, I was thinking about getting a haircut" Yuu started "Something super short, what do you think?"

"Maybe..." Ruggie trailed off.

"Absolutely not, no, never let that thought go through your mind again." Yuu's jaw dropped, while Y/n kept a straight face.

Ruggie burst out laughing, falling back, head landing on Y/ns lap. That moment was perfect in Yuu's mind. No stress. No Chaos. Just sweet bliss.

"I miss him" Yuu whispered to themself.

"Who? Y/n?" Kalim responded, appearing right next to them.

Yuu looked around to make sure no one else was listening before responding. "Yeah, Y/n."

"I miss Jamil..." Kalim sighed. "Ya know, him and Y/n were close?"

"Yeah, Y/n would always go to Jamil for help with schoolwork" Y/n laughed. "I always thought it was weird because he was a mediocre student, but he always promised that he was some sort of genius."

"I thought Jamil was my best friend" Kalim sobbed.

Yuu hugged him.

"I know how you feel." That was all Yuu could mutter out before crying with him.

[kandlewick]

Fake dating to get Magicam's most prized dessert is nothing to someone like Cater Diamond! And who else could he ask but his favorite little freshman? gn! reader x cater diamond

"Pleeaaase? Please, please, please~ Just for a a day, one simple visit!! All I need is you, a picture, and some cute and fancy desserts! Just until this fad dies down—"

"No, Cater! I already told you I don't have the funds to pay for expensive snacks this month!" You stopped and turned, nearly causing your upperclassmen to collide with you as you huffed up at him, arms crossed, "Crowley has been extra stingy with what little he gives me and I have to be able to afford Grim's fancy tuna. It's the only way I can manage to keep him from skipping study sessions with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum."

Cater stifled a laugh at your nickname for his fellow Heartslabyul students but was quick to hide it behind a well manicured hand, his shoulders shaking with amusement. If you weren't so miffed at his constant badgering, you would've almost had found it cute.

"You haven't even told me what I'm agreeing to, Cater." You quickly avoided his eyes, mentally slapping yourself for the momentary weakness as your words made Cater freeze and advert his eyes as well. He hid his mouth behind his phone but you could tell his lips were set in a nervous smile as he at least attempted to look shy. You raised your eyebrow at him "What? Is it like, super embarrassing?"

Cater hummed, twirling a loose strand of hair between his forefinger, "I mean, I guess, yeah? It's nothing like, totes awful or anything but you're literally the only one I could ask to do this. Asking anyone else is a total no go and Cay-Cay needs the engagement. My numbers have been so awful lately and It's driving me absolutely cray-cray."

Cater looked almost cherubic with how he kept batting his eyelashes at you. It was extremely annoying how cute he looked when he was like this, like he knew he could get away with anything as long as he knew how to press the right buttons. With a heavy sigh, you slumped your shoulders and gestured for him to continue. He let out an excited whoop as he smiled, the diamond on his cheek crinkling with delight.

"Aaah~ My favorite freshie to the rescue! I owe you one~!!" Cater grinned, taking your willingness to hear him out as a sign of acceptance. He pulled you close by the shoulder and swiped at his phone with practiced precision, pulling up Magicam within seconds. You glanced up at him as his eyes seemed to gleam in excitement, his eagerness almost infectious, "So there's this fad going viral right now with this local cafe nearby that has a couples special! It's this super cute dessert that's all the rage on Magicam and I neeeed it!"

"Why can't you just get it yourself?" You ask, watching his phone screen as he continued to scroll down his feed. You noticed as well that nearly every other post was about that supposedly super cute couples only dessert and couples sharing it between quick kisses. It was almost voyeuristic with how many couples openly shared their PDA with strangers on the internet. Cater was quick to roll his eyes and tap the screen again with his finger, his nail audibly clicking against the glass.

"I told you, it's couples only! You have to prove you're a couple and act all lovey-dovey for them to even consider handing it over!" He pouted, "Look, you know that I can't stand sweet stuff so when we're there, I'll buy you however much you want in exchange. You can even eat the special dessert! All I want is one little photo~"

You slid a hand down your face and sighed, eyebrows knitted in frustration. Why did you even have a crush on this guy? Normally you'd think anyone would jump for joy at the chance of a fake date with someone as cute as Cater Diamond but the way he words things can be so... flippant. It almost hurt! You glared up at him from between your fingers as he has since returned to his phone screen, entirely unaware of the feelings you kept close to your chest. Letting out a loud breath, you spoke up.

"Ok. I'll do it."

Cater immediately dropped whatever he was doing on his phone and quickly scooped you up in a tight hug, nearly lifting you off your feet with a twirl, "Yesss~ Thank you, Prefect! You're the best!!"

"Yeah, yeah," You mumbled, voice muffled from your spot pressed against his chest. The smell of his cologne tickled your nose. If you had any sense of shame, you'd resist taking a sniff but... You nearly melted in his arms. You mentally screamed at yourself, tearing out your hair. How dare he smell so good and play with your emotions like that even if he did it entirely unawares!!! It was unfair!!!

It was now the weekend. Free from any lessons and duties Crowley could throw at you, you were almost about to tuck yourself back into bed and drift off for a few more hours of sleep but you were quickly interrupted by the dorm's foyer door being thrown open and the cheery voice of your upperclassmen ringing in your ear.

"I'm heerree! And I brought MAKEUP."

You outwardly cringed and slammed your head back into the pillow, willing for it to swallow you whole and suffocate you in its feathery embrace but alas, it was not meant to be as Cater had quickly made his way up the stairs and down the hall, loudly greeting the ghosts. Grim, who slept beside you (he would never admit its because he liked the spot at your hip, he claimed it was simply because it was too dang cold in the dorm at night and shared body heat was great, in his words.) was quick to raise his hackles and growl in annoyance, blearily opening his eyes to glare at Cater as he opened the door and waved.

"Oi, you're interrupting my precious sleep time!" He whined, a puff of fire slipping out from between sharp feline teeth, "Go be loud somewhere else, pretty boy."

"Awhhh, does little Grimmy think I'm pretty? I'm totes flattered~" Cater ignored the obvious jab and instead chose to shake your blanket, lifting the corners up to grin at you, "Wakey wakey, Prefect. We got lots of preparing to do before our big date!"

A loud shuffling came from the couch besides the bed and a foggy eyed Ace erupted out of the covers, his bright orange hair sticking up in all angles while he let out a fierce yawn. He glared over at his upperclassmen in annoyance as a second figure emerged from besides the bed, the tell tale sound of a sleeping bag giving way to the sight of a barely awake Deuce. He had yet to notice Cater in the room and slowly crawled out of his spot.

"We... gotta get ready for class," He yawned again, tears dotting his eyes, "We're gonna be late..."

"We don't have classes today, stupid," Ace kicked at Deuce and sent him rolling back on to his sleeping bag, ignoring his choked whines of surprise, "It's the weekend and we're supposed to be sleeping in!" He glared up at Cater, "It's why we slept at Ramshackle instead of our own dorm!"

Cater giggled and attempted to look apologetic but it only made Ace more visibly annoyed as he huffed, throwing the covers back over himself and stubbornly tried to go back to bed.

"I'll get up, I'll get up," You whined as you slowly pulled yourself out of bed, pushing back your hair from your face. Ramshackle was bitterly cold in the morning and you mentally jotted down that you'd need to ask Sam if he carried any house slippers the next time you were over there. After ensuring you were awake and there was no threat of you passing back out in your bed, Cater made quick work of cleaning up your bathroom and making himself at home, finding spots for all his skin care and makeup. You shuffled in besides him and closed the door. Maybe the thin barrier between you and the others would keep them from getting too mad at whatever noise the two of you would be making.

Settling yourself down on the counter, you kicked your feet as Cater inspected your meager collection of cosmetics. Everything you had was stuff Vil had left you after the competition and while you didn't keep up with it as much as he'd like, you still tried to use some of it occasionally. You felt bad just leaving such an expensive gift unused.

"Do you want me to do your makeup or do you got it taken care of? Oooh, maybe I'll even let you do mine!" He grinned, "And then I can do yours?"

You were taken aback for a moment as you stared up at Cater, his smile never leaving his face as he returned your gaze. Did he really trust you that much that he'd let you do his makeup? You could feel your ears burn as you nodded eagerly, pulling him down by his sleeve so he was level to your face. He followed easily enough and made himself comfortable against your knees. He closed his eyes in anticipation.

"I cant believe you're trusting me with something like this," you breathed out, watching as his eyelids twitched, "What if you don't like it?"

"If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't be asking you for your help with the magicam date~" He giggled, moving his cheek to press against you hand, the soft skin nearly making you drop the brush in your hand. You audibly gulped at the intimate gesture but were quick to hide it behind a scoff.

"Don't blame me then if you end up having to wash it all off and start over then." You warned before reaching over, dabbing the soft bristles into the pallet and, with much trepidation, began working.

It was nerve wracking working on someone else's makeup... especially on the guy you had a crush on. His long lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he patiently waited for each stroke of the brush on his near perfect skin. You were glad for it. You wouldn't have to explain the near atomic levels of red dusting your face from just being so close to him.

"Aaaand there. Done." You finalized that with the click of the eye shadow pallet being closed. Your companion 's eyes flickered open before he abruptly threw himself in front of the mirror. He looked himself up and down, left and right and even reached and dug into his bag to pull our his phone. You nervously shuffled your feet as Cater remained quiet, inspecting himself in front of his frontward camera.

"You hate it." You whined, pretending your sniffling were only just for show.

"No! No - It's..." He was quick to silence your worries but his quiet inspection wasn't doing anything for your nerves, "It's different."

"A good different or a bad different?"

Cater hummed for a moment, "Just different. I look... cool?"

The stark difference to his usual makeup routine was much more anxiety inducing then he initially thought it was going to be and he inwardly cringed at how he must have worried you with something as trivial as his makeup. It took everything in him not to reach forward and douse himself in makeup remover and scrub till his face was pink but he knew that he couldn't. Your skills weren't even bad and he could tell your VDC lessons had bettered your skills but... he didn't know if he could pull this off... this.... cool him.

You reached forward and grasped his shoulder, startling him out of his thoughts with a soft look.

"It's ok if you don't like it, Cater. I won't be mad. Here, we can wash it off and you can start over fresh."

He bit his lip, his eyes darting over to the cleaners tucked safely in the corner of the bathroom counter, but his will eventually won out. He shook his head and offered you a shaky but genuine smile, "No, really, it's alright. This just means I'll have to work super hard to act cool when we're out!"

You inwardly deflated, sighing in relief. An honest Cater was not an easy thing to get,

"Now, enough about me!" Cater broke the stillness of the room with his usual cheery voice, eager to break whatever had just settled between the two of you, "I want to do your makeup!"

"Wow, Cater." You whistled, "You weren't kidding when you said this was all the rage on Magicam." Couples were lined up nearly front to back around the cafe and the start of the line was nearly impossible to see from your spot near the front. Cater was quiet from his spot next to you, obviously eyeing the line with a sense of a challenge.

"Mmm..." He hummed, "Hopefully the cafe will still have the dessert available by the time we reach the front."

As he looked down at his phone and nervously began swiping, you chose to instead be a little daring. You were supposed to pretend to be a couple, right? You nervously looked over at Cater, quietly admiring his profile, before taking a deep breath. With every ounce of your pride, you reached out and slowly wrapped your pinkie around his own. This startled him awake. He blinked, his eyes fluttering, before turning to stare at you with a small smile.

"Ah, right! The couple thing. Here," With the ease only Cater Diamond could pull off, he released your finger and instead intertwined your hand with his. His fingers squeezed your own. You returned his smile with a shaky one of your own but the slight dusting of a blush around his ears was enough to calm your racing heart. At least he was a little embarrassed about this experience too.

It didn't take much longer for the two of you to finally reach the front of the line, a frazzled but cheery employee greeting the two of you with a practiced smile. "Are you both here for the couple special?"

You both nodded, Cater more vigorously then yourself, "You bet!"

The employee raised her phone, "Then I assume you wouldn't mind taking a quick snap for our wall?"

"Of course not," You put on your best lovey-dovey act and leaned your head against Cater's shoulder, batting your eyelashes towards the employee.

"Okay then!" She gestured for you both, "Let's get a little smooch for the camera!"

You and Cater both blinked over at her in barely concealed shock. A kiss? You were supposed to kiss? Cater's eyes darted over at you, a nervous look plastered all over his face. He quickly tried to save the situation while looping his arm around your waist and pulling you close, a tense smile quickly forming on his lips.

"Ah - you see, they're really shy about PDA, you know? I don't think -"

The employee frowned and lowered her phone, giving you both an unconvinced look, "It said on the pamphlet that you needed to show affection to..."

"No, no! It's ok!" You were quick to butt in, nervously trying your best to act past your frayed nerves. You peeked over at Cater from under your lashes, "If it's what we need to do to get the treat..."

"Are you positive?" Cater blinked at you, taken back, before learning closer to you, lowering his voice so only you could hear, "I know I asked you to act like a couple with me but this wasn't in the deal."

You appreciated it, but you couldn't let this ''date'' go to waste. You shook your head, reciprocating his touch.

"Are you both ready then?" The employee asked, visibly tired.

"Yeah," Cater offered her a small smile, turning away from you, "Just..."

He was quickly interrupted by your lips swiftly meeting his own. Cater let out a small noise in surprise as you grabbed him by his jacket lapels, tugging him closer to you to better ease in to his lips. This was insane, you thought, but you weren't going to lose this chance.

He was slow to respond but after a few tense moments, his shaking hands slowly pressed against your waist, following your lead. You could feel a slow smile form on his lips as you pulled away. Rolling back on to the balls of your feet, you gave the shocked employee an expecting smile, "Did you get the shot?" If you had paid attention, you would've noticed the creeping grin on Cater's face as he quickly hid it behind his hand. His ears were burning while he watched you. You were so cute!

"Yeah... the dessert is inside to your left, it's free for the day. Please only take one."

"Thank you!" With a parting wave, you quickly shuffled ahead. You had to leave the two of them as quick as you could or they'd see the glowing flush all over your face. You bit your cheek and rubbed at your goofy smile.

The employee and Cater watched you go. She turned to Cater and blinked up at him, "You seem awfully shocked."

"Uh, mhm..." Cater twirled a strand of hair between his forefinger, "Yeah. I guess they really wanted that dessert... uh... but hey, can you send me that picture you took?"

[thisisawonderfulusername]

crowley's duties

crowley x reader

requested by: anonymous

summary: just the sweet stuff crowley does for you

warnings: just fluff

a/n: this is a new format for me, i've never really done it like this so i cannot for the life of me remember what the style is called. but i felt it was most appropriate format for this prompt, so enjoy!

-crowley as your boyfriend is an absolute dream

-your friends always tell you how jealous they are because their partners never did as much as he did

-he will always tell you how beautiful you look, no matter what you wear

-while his gestures are simple, they always make you swoon

-he'll open the car door for you before you can even think of doing it yourself

-similarly, he'll jog ahead of you to open any doors for you

-literally pique gentleman

-if you forget your umbrella and it starts raining, he will hold his over your head, not caring that his clothes are getting soaked

-on your birthday and other holidays, he goes all out for gifts

-anything that was mentioned in passing was carefully written down and you would have it by the end of the year. he made sure of it

-you'd be getting gifts on any random day too, it doesn't have to be special (because every day he has with you is special)

-"aw crowley, what's this for?" 

-"well, i saw you looking at it the other day and figured i should get it for you"

-when he meets your parents, they absolutely love him

-he's super polite to them and you gush about how well he treats you

-after he is worried that he didn't do good enough but you assure him that they loved him

-which they had, because they reacted very differently to him than past partners they hated 

-your mother even texts you to ask about updates, whether or not you've talked about marriage

-and when he does decide he wants to propose, he goes all out

-he even asked for your father's permission, despite you telling him you didn't care if he approved or not

-he takes you to a lovely beach and ahead of the sunset he sets up rose petals and a picnic blanket

-then as the sun sets he pulls out the most beautiful ring

-who would've thought you'd marry a demon? certainly not you

-but you best believe he won't ever stop opening doors or holding an umbrella over your head for you

-because, in his words,"it's my duty to you, love"

[milkteasweetheart]

『just like heaven, chapter 1, part 2』

this part contains riddle’s dream sequence. 

housewardens x reader

author’s note: i depict nrc as an actual college, so first years are 18, second years 19, etc.

summary: crowley has the bright idea of a bonding experience, specifically in the form of a dream potion.

characters: (riddle rosehearts), leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia / platonic mentions: dire crowley (ew), grim

genre: romance, fluff, smidge of angst

warnings: female reader, reader is yuu, reader is around ace and deuce’s height, sappy, marriage, mentions of potential children, some suggestive themes

「dream scene: rose colored reverie」

This Riddle looked strange. Well not really, he was just wearing a cutesy outfit with a red, fluffy cardigan and black corduroy pants. On top of it was a frilly apron. Was he taller?

The Dream Riddle took off Dream (Y/N)’s coat and hat with another chaste kiss, and the two  moved into the living room. Everything was a bit blurry except for her face. Huh. “Have you eaten, my love? I know you work too hard without taking breaks.” Dream (Y/N) caressed Riddle’s cheek. Azul was subtly rubbing his hands together like a cartoon villain, raising concern within everyone.

Idia is about to draw blood from the way he’s biting his cheek, trying to prevent laughter. Normie loser! How corny can a person’s dreams get?

「Idia: At least have a cool dream! LMFAO」 (He will admit this version of the prefect looks nice, but she always does- who said that.)

Dream Riddle nods. “I’m ready to go if you are. Where are we going this late, though?” He tilts his head. (Y/N) chuckles with a clearly enamoured expression. “It’s a surprise. I know you’ll like it.” And with a kiss on the tip of his nose, the scene changes with a disorienting distortion.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

They’re now standing on the outside of a cafe. Riddle considers curling up into a ball. There has to be a reason his beloved hedgehogs do it. The hedgehogs… that he and the prefect take care of…

Jamil feels pity for Riddle who is currently making a quiet impression of a red balloon being emptied of air. Thankfully his own dream won’t be as bad… at least he thinks so.

The cafe is beautiful, too perfect with checkered floors, lacy curtains and velvet couches. Dream (Y/N) is currently feeding Riddle a forkful of the most delectable looking strawberry tart with an adoring expression. The strawberries are so red and shining it hurts her eyes. She considers addressing this, but decides to have pity on Riddle who has gone through with sitting on the floor and hiding his head. Leona does the opposite.

“Hah. Feels like my teeth are going to rot in my mouth at this rate.” Leona is trying to goad Riddle into digging his grave deeper. Might as well make the most of this dumb experience, right? He is totally not trying to distract himself from the looming threat of his dream being revealed, which is coincidentally in the same genre. Riddle shakes with embarrassment. (Y/N) notes Malleus staring at her dream counterpart from his position before the cash register.

“Ah, I think it’s quite amusing- adorable. Dreams often reflect what their creator wants, and can’t get.” For a merfolk Azul is cattier than Leona. Vil is a bit too smug too. At least his dreams are sophisticated.

Idia notices Jamil and Malleus aren’t exactly invested in this story. Well, nothing interesting is currently happening, but he must push his introvertedness in the corner to save his life.

Jamil’s a bit scary, but won’t smite him out of existence like Malleus could. “Hey…” Idia flinches a bit when he turns to look at him. “Hm?” No backing down now, Idia. “This is like, super cringe right? This is probably the worst we’ll see, but the others one are gonna be boring as hell, right? Maybe we should figure out a way to get out?” Jamil thinks about it, and crushes Idia’s hope into dust. “I need a break from Scarabia anyway. I don’t mind it here.” He also has to see Azul’s inevitable doom.

「Idia: Just say you want me dead…」

[schlattsdoll]

dr. spencer reid headcanons

minors dni

warnings: mentions ofmaeve & general cm violence

spencer x gn! reader

first off, how can we not love this super soft boy ? he deserved all the happiness

anyways, he’s definitely touch starved and doesn’t know how to respond right away if you’re very lovey dovey

his love language is words of affirmation absolutely

HE WOULD LOVE TO READ TO YOU

ugh being curled up on his couch and having him read to you while you wear his hoodies? heaven.

helping him learn to love again and constantly reassuring him nothing bad will happen to you due to what happened to maeve

cosplaying for comic cons together <333

the doctor and rose, crowley & aziraphale, all the cute couples of nerd media

he’s a lil snuggle bug loves to cuddle with you and watch shows when he’s not on a case

loves spending his breaks from teaching traveling with you and seeing the good in the world

[nescaveckwriter]

Lighthouse

A/N: 🐞... Okayz my dearest love bugs, 💕 another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🥰 yayaness, I know its been a while though, But I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one, I must say I'm super proud and, a little terrified as this is 'Supernatural' based 🫣🤭, so let me know what y'all think.🥰 Okayz much love🥰❤️🩷

Warnings: *18+ Only* Horror, Thriller, Mentions of blood, violence, angsty, little fluff, heartbreaking, drama.

Line: Tree, Clock, Rope

Characters: Dean x Fem Reader, Sam, Benny, Cas, Crowley

Words: 6700 😱🫣 I know I'm sorry.

Cover & Pictures: Pinterest, Canva, Google

Side Note: Please check out my Masterlist for more, epic stories🐞💕

The sky has turned into grey, dark clouds threatening too cover the earth with its darkness, the smell of rain is everywhere as it nourishes the earth, as you stand under the pouring rain, listening too him say, goodbye, letting the rain mix with the tears on your cheeks. Not being able too move a muscle, you just stood there unable to make a single sound, unable to ask him why, why after this long, did he want to break up with you, did he want to throw away the life you built. Weren't you enough for him no more,? Is there someone else? Why Now?

The way he said goodbye wasn't with a voice filled with anger, no, his emerald green eyes was sad, his voice almost breaking when he said "I need too let you go sweetheart" and his lips found yours instinctively, it was a soft, kiss, mixed with the taste of him, salt and rain. You didn't want him too leave, you wanted to grab ahold of him, and beg him too stay, but before you could, he got in that Chevy Impala, the engine roared and the tires screeched, as he drove off into the darkness, not a single star in the sky, its almost as if the magic of the moonlight left with him.

Its been a little over three months since he left you standing in the rain, like some dumb country song, but you somehow found a way too move through your everyday life, you were a hunter before you met Dean, and you still are, well in all honesty saving people is the only thing that got you through the days.

It isn't really a job you tell everyone about, oh heck no!, its more a work you keep too yourself, letting your family believe, your just a traveling failure, well you always did kind of feel like you lost your way over the years, but these days your numb. Your best friend Sam doesn't even talk too you anymore, you don't really have a lot of folks who you could call, and say "hey, ya know I'm not really doing well, I need a pick me up or a damn hug" no you always kept too yourself, not trusting anyone, but the day you met Dean and Sam on a hunt it changed.! Sam quickly became your best friend and well Dean soon became the only man you'll ever love, even though he had his issues. And then there was Castiel the angel, he has always felt like a beacon of hope, making you laugh with his "I don't understand that reference" sayings. But the day Dean walked out they all left, leaving you completely alone in this damn scary world. It's not the monsters that scares you, no that you get, but it's the people. Every single person you have met in your life has a hidden agenda, why can't they just be good people.

Sitting at the diner in the small town, were you were investigating strange disappearances, ordering a black coffee, the display with the different pies catching your eye. Your mind wanders off to Dean's birthday... You prepared all his favorite foods, burgers, bacon, fries, the greaser the better, and then you started with the making of his favorite pies. But somewhere along the way you forgot about the pie's in the oven, letting them burn to a crisp, after you rushed in, trying to save what's left of the charred goods, seeing it was disaster, you wouldn't be able to save it, you burst into tears, cussing yourself for messing up what's supposed to be the perfect day, you felt his strong arms pulling you towards his chest, staining his shirt with the wetness of your cheeks. He's breathe hot as he kissed you, in a loving, comforting way, reassuring you everything will be okay, it's just pie's not the end off the world.

He always did know how too comfort you, how too chase the darkness away, he was your lighthouse, so to say, showing you the way, back too the light. And now, now there's no more light too go home. No more home, just nothing.

Taking a sip of the now cold bitter coffee, that kind of taste like, old shoes, not that you'll know how that would taste like, but betting its something like this. Placing the cup down, sliding the dollar's underneath the half full cup on the diner table, you get up, throwing your ball cap on, hair hanging loose on your shoulders, taking your leather jacket and phone, you start too head out of the small town diner.  Walking towards your Harley Davidson, you've always liked the way, that bunch of metal, felt roaring as you sat on that leather seat, the wind rushing through your hair, the way those gas fumes, flowed through your veins, not even to talk about the adrenaline that went with it, oh damn, you felt about your Harley like Dean felt about his impala. Seeing a giant creep checking out your bike, leaning on it, irritation in your voice "excuse, what are you doing?"

His voice rough and unpleasant "why do you care, little missy"

Walking closer, your eyes darker than usual "that's my bike"

The bald man, with his long beard, hiding his tatted neck, started to laugh "No way such a small little thing can handle that sort of horse power"

"I'm only going to ask you nicely one more time, get off my damn bike!"

Crossing his arms in front of him, "Or what? You gonna call the little cops"

"No! I'm going to make you get off my bike"

"I'd like to see you try missy"

She really wasn't in the mood for this. So she tried to shove him off, but he was on the larger side and didn't really move a single damn inch. It just made him irritated "hey come here missy" he said as he grabbed a hold of your arm, you smiled, that made him look at you all confused, but he soon realized, he should not have messed with you, as you took his fingers, and started bending them backwards, bringing the big guy down to your size. With your free hand, you punched the sucker in the face. Got up on your bike, and drove down the road too the nearest bar you could find, for information and while you where there you might as well get something to drink.

The Black Chevy Impala roared as it parked in front of the diner, Dean and Sam got out, a big guy, with a black eye, just got off the ground as they started making their way towards the door, Dean looked at the guy a smirk on his face "What happened to you buddy?"

The man mumbled "crazy biker chick"

Dean just laughed, as he figured this chick was probably part of his gang, as the beaten up guy had a biker jacket with their logo on. He still smiled but he felt stabbing pains in his heart. His sweetheart was a 'biker chick' a swell, she could handle that roaring horsepower better than most men, and man!, was she tough, so fierce and fiery, so passionate and yet so gentle, vulnerable at times, so fragile, she cared more than most, people, and beautiful, so freaking beautiful, her smile could light up a room, he fell hard for her the first time he saw her, and it just grew from there he loved her , he still loved her, but he just had too walk away, for her own safety, everyone close too him get hurt or dies. And especially with everything going on, he couldn't risk it, if someone found out, that she wasn't just another hunter, no she was the love of his life, he'd never forgive himself if something would happen too her. Sam calling his name for the fourth time pulled him out of his deep thoughts, "Hey man, you with me?"

"Yeah, yeah, just thinking I need a drink not coffee"

Sam gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing his brother probably thought of her again, he just nods and says "okay sure let's go"

The only information she got was that, some of the missing folks were last seen close too a pig farm , on the outskirts of this town.

And now, now she just sat here swallowing the vodka, it was easier than too think that Dean aren't coming back, hating how she felt , how alone and miserable, how heartbroken, she really thought that she was stronger than this, but no, she's weak and pathetic, sobbing about a man, a damn man who left her in the pouring rain. What the hell was wrong with her, she never was the kind, to be good little wife material, who would cook for her husband and bake brownies for her children's school, but the sad truth was she wanted too be all that with Dean, she would've gave up hunting, too be his wife and the mother of his children. But clearly he didn't feel the same. Thumbing away a stray tear, she gestures to the bartender , for another. The music was loud and the alcohol made her slightly lightheaded, she knew she needed some air, sliding off the barstool, walking towards the exit, fumbling in her pockets for a packet of cigarettes, she only smokes when she drinks. Some guy, lit her cigarette, she just nods, thanking him with a smile as she stood in the crisp evening air, the air mixed with nicotine hit her lungs, letting a little cough escapes her lips. As she blows out the smoke, she heard that damn Chevy pull in, she couldn't miss it , Dean had a certain way if driving and it was him for sure. She just stood there, frozen in the darkness. "What the hell is he doing here" whispering underneath her breath. Hoping that he doesn't see her, knowing that she will burst out in tears the moment she tried to speak too him.

He wales past a couple of bikes, that's when he saw it, her bike, hard too miss it, on the rear bumper the lyrics of her favorite Bon Jovi song. He elbows his brother "Sam, she's here"

Sam looked at him shocked, "What? Are you sure"

Running his hand over his face "Of course I'm damn sure" clearing his throat "I can't see her, man, I just can't, I've missed her so much, it was hard enough too walk away from her that night, I won't be able to do it again"

Sam places his hand on his big brother shoulder "Don't you think, this whole protection thing your trying is dumb"

Dean's jaw clenched, "No, Everybody around me dies, and there's nothing I can do about it, I have to let her go"

Sam just shook his head, his known his brother felt like this for a while now, but it's gotten worse, his unsure why, but he will try and get through too him, Dean's only been happy, whenever he was with her. "Okay let's go"

Dean and Sam made their way towards the car, they're about to get in when they heard a spine chilling scream , Dean recognized her voice. He searches in the darkness, when he catches a glimpse of four men, throwing her in a black van. He didn't even realized it but he started running towards the van, as the last of them jumped in, he saw a glimpse of her, the last thing he heard, was her screaming his name and a gun shot, which brought him to a stop as he fell to the ground, chanting her name over and over, until his eyes fell closed.

Sam fired his gun towards the van, but couldn't get decent shots from that angle. He fell to his knees next to his brother, glancing at the bullet wound in his chest, the blood gushing out, he applied pressure on the wound, he could feel the life draining from his brother as he begged Castiel to come. Sam's eyes damp with tears, his heart pounding in his throat, a silent scream escaping his lip "Cas, please man, I need you Dean need's you"

You could hear the flutter of wings, when the celestial being landed, his face struck with concern "What happened?"

Sam glanced at the man in the trench coat, holding his brother in arms, "please, just help him Cas"

The angel approached his best friend, there was nothing quite as bad, as seeing him, in pain, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder and Sam's, the three men found themselves in a motel, Dean was still unconscious but breathing, Sam glanced at the angel, mouthing a "thank you"

Traces of the tears still evident on her cheeks as she recalled Dean getting shot, he was there, running towards her, he stilled cared. The four men watched her like a hawk, she cradled her legs in the corner, as if she's a animal trying too hide herself from the prey.

The van came to a stop, she knew something had to be done, so she took the knife she hid in her boots, covered it in her hand, she knew taking all four men was asking to much, so she'll have to isolate them. Take them one by one. The men double, maybe triple her size, but she aren't going down this way, without a fight.

As the two men , opened the door, she saw what looked like a barn, there where cages, with other people inside, seeing she's not the only one that needed saving, she slid the knife back in her boot. She needed more information than this, so she went with it. The man held her by her hair, threw her into a cage which had two other girls probably about round about 16 and 18, and much older man, in his late 60's maybe. Hitting the the floor, scraping her palms.

The older man helped her up, "you okay?"

"Yeah thanks never been better" the sarcasm rolled over her pressed lips.

A big guy, came standing against the cage, with a stupid smug on his round face. "When Ricky there told me about this little woman, who punched him, just for leaning against her bike, I knew I had too throw you in the ring"

She got to a standing position, striding closer, too this gigantic man, "What are you? A human trafficker , organ? What"

He laughed "None of the above, just a business man," he started walking away.

"What is he talking about?" Her eyes intensified "Does anyone know why we are here?"

She heard a man's voice coming from another cage, he was beaten pretty bad, "We are here too fight against each other, like the movie Condemned, apparently it happens in really life" he let out a defeated laugh. The whole barn filled with chatter, people gasping for air, as the initial shock took over. Those who haven't seen the movie, quickly got enlighten by those who have, the rich of the rich, places bets on the person, who they think will survive and it gets streamed on the dark web for everyone to watch.

There's a clock with a timer and the one who have killed all the other 'players' in that amount of time, gets to live another round. Some just cried, the others just quietly, sat in the corners of their cages, holding on too their knees, as if that's going to help, everywhere in that barn there's cages filled with silence and then those with chatter.

Then in the cage she's in, the two young teenage girls just hold on too each other, clinging for dear Life. The grey old guy, just kept mumbling too himself, "I can't kill these people" over and over.

Probably not the most polite thing in this situation but damn, it worked on her nerves, she's trying think of a solution, a plan something to save these people. But she was all out of ideas, to be honest, except maybe one, her back was against the cage, she silently started to talk to Cas, asking him to come and find her, but nothing, he didn't hear or he didn't want too, either way it was up too her.

Glancing down at the ground, then her leather boots she remembered the knife, she could use that too unlock the cage door, then start freeing the others, she took the last bit of hope in her hand, starting to put the blade in, turning and wiggling it, until she heard the click sound, she was overjoyed, she slowly opened the screeching steel door, every noise sounded as loud as thunder.

She could see the different keys, close to the barn entrance, almost walking on the balls of her feet, so that she didn't make a single sound, reaching for the keys, her fingertips barely touching it, she jumped into the air, grabbing ahold if it, she started making her way towards the first cage. Searching for the key that fits, the barn doors flung open, she recognized the guy, Ricky from earlier, and some other dude, who made her skin crawl , "Hey how'd you get out?" Ricky shouted.

"What you can see me?" She joked, something she always did, when she was very nervous.

The other guy ran to her, but she kicked him before he even could touch her, she still had the knife in hand, this big fella didn't say, much, he charged towards her, when that silver blade touched his arm, it made him squirm, "Oh that's just freaking lovely, what are you, a vamp? A wolfie?" She sneered

The moment he showed his, teeth she knew it was a werewolf, the other folks in the cages screamed, as they never saw such a creature.

"So this games rigged? Normal human being and creatures from the night, joining the game"

Surprised the wolf looked at her , a growl "your a hunter?"

Mischievous smile on her lips "why would you say that?" The wolf growled once again, as he charged towards your position, clawing your back, as he flung you against a cage, everything is swimming before her eyes, all you could make out was that she was flung against the beaten up man, he had the bluest eyes, which kind of reminded her about Castiel's eyes.

The wolf like creature came closer, looking for your blood, that's when the man stood up, black coat drenched in blood, unsure if it was his own, or some of the creature's his killed, the last time, his blue orbs, illuminated, bloodshot veins stretched like a roadmap in his eyes , his fangs came out revealing that his a vampire.

Laying there, you where left at the mercy of these two, but you were surprised when the vamp, took ahold of the wolf, smashing his head against the bars, he had this deep old time southern voice "leave her alone"

The man, glared at her and the vamp, picking her up, letting her sway like a sack of potatoes in the air. Ricky quickly came to open the cage, throwing her in by the vampire, "You can have her".

Knowing the open wounds made the situation worse, as it was like a magnet for the vamp, she tried too get up, too defend herself but, in that moment she was too weak.

The vamp, came closer towards her, his features returned to those of a man, his voice kind "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm Benny"

Shocked "Benny, like in Benny Lafitte? Dean's friend?"

He smiled, "I thought I recognized you, saw you once on his lock screen, asked him about this new women in his life, he told me you are the love of his life"

Smirking, "Yeah that's awhile ago I guess"

Confusion written all over his face, but before he could ask, the barn filled with gas, hearing Benny say "its to knock us out so they can take us to the next location" before you could find out more, the knock out gas started taking its toll.

His eyes flutter open, Sam and Cas both sharing the same concerned facial expressions, his voice croaky "what did something happen? Is.." struggling to form the words "is she gone?"

Sam spoke quickly, trying to reassure his big brother "No! We don't know, Cas can't pick up her location"

 Cas spoke "Wherever she's at, must be warded off with sigils"

Dean groaned when he sat up, "we have to save her, I can't loose her"

The three of them turned their heads when they heard the familiar phrase from Crowley "Hello Boys"

Dean immediately got up, pointing a finger at him, "Do you have something to do with her disappearance, tell me now!"

 Crowley gave him a sympathetic look, that lasted about an second "Squirrel I had nothing to do with her, but I know where you can find her"

Dean could not control the anger that intensified in his chest, he smashed Crowley against the nearest wall, his arm pressing against his throat his forest green eyes pierced the black ones, his voice low, and stern "Crowley if your messing with me, I will kill you, I swear I'll kill"

 With the flick of Crowley's fingers Dean flew across the room, he shouts, this whole situation clearly upsetting him as well. "She saved my damn life, why would I want something to happen to her, she cared enough to save me, ME!!!" Crowley shouted.

Sam hurried to help Dean up, recalling the saving Crowley is talking about, he was stuck in a devils trap, bounded with chains around his hands and neck, as some other hunter took out all his anger on Crowley, stabbing him over and over, when she came in, tried talking the man down, but he didn't see any reason as he thought Crowley was to blame for the death of his family, but he wasn't, he had nothing to do with it. As she was talking to this guy, she slowly started  to scratch the round red chalked circle on the floor with the heel of her boots, so that Crowley can break free, the line was finally broken, by clicking his fingers the chains shook loose and fell into a thousand pieces, the other hunter saw what she did, ran towards her, pushed the blade right through her upper torso. That's when Dean and Sam ran into, her for the first time, they where hunting the hunter who they thought was possessed but turns out he had such an amount of rage inside him, that whom ever got in his way, he'd kill.

Dean's harsh voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts, "Where is she Crowley"

"Well not only her , but other people as well, even Werewolves and vampires, you named it they have it, I know the location, but we have to go now," he clears his throat, "there's only one snag, neither can I nor Cass get in their, the damn sigils on the barns wall, wont let us through"

Dean's already halfway across the room, towards the door, "what are we waiting for"

In a matter of seconds the four of them stood In front of the barn on the pig farm, Sam is busy discussing a plan of action but Dean, already pushed the barn doors open, "what the hell Dean" the loudness in Sam's voice makes Dean face him, but he just shakes him off, not answering, too determined to safe her, he walks in, gun in hand, ready for anything, everywhere you look, all the cage doors stands open, not a single trace of anyone, something glistening on the floor catches his eye, its a rose gold chain with a heart shaped locket, he didn't need to turn it around, to see the engraved 'love you always D.W' to know its hers, he opens it anyways, glaring at the picture, both off them laughing, the way they looked at each other, you could feel the electricity, the love they shared, he folds it closed in his fisted hand, his eyes damp with emotion. He runs outside, punches Crowley straight in the face. Cas takes ahold of Dean's arm's demanding him to stop. The defeated look on his face is too much too bare for the three men looking at Dean, disappointed and unsure where to look next they start looking around the farm for clues, for something that can give him a glimpse of hope.

The strong sunrays, burning her eyes, as she opens them, the pain from last night's fight, let's her realize what's happening, she tries too move, but can't, searching for the reason, she sees the rope wrapped around her arms, and waist, too a tree, she tries too wiggle, to get out off the tight grip, that's when she hears a ticking of a clock tick-tock, tick-tock, it sounded incredibly loud, looking up to where the sounds came from, seeing giant speakers blaring the sound of a clock. A rough unpleasant voice spoke, game rules: "Everything goes, you can use any weapon you can find, to kill your opponent, and also remember the last one standing gets too live" he lets out a snotty laugh. "Oh yes, and contestants, we made the first kill very easy, if you can find contestant five, she's tied up and ready to kill, oh and give us a show" he laughs harder, then all of the sudden its dead silence, figuring she's contestant no: five, she'd better think of something to get out if this situation. Her words barely a whisper, "I don't even know why I try, but Cas are you there, Crowley, can someone hear me? Please I need someone"

The rustling of the leaves, let's her know there's someone, maybe it's Cas or Crowley, maybe its someone's who wants to take her as their first kill.

The large man with his black coat walks towards her.

He's voice hushed, "let me get you outta here"

"Oh darn, I'm so thankful its you Benny"

As he unties her, they hear rustling in the bushes, he hands her a knife, and they stand ready for action, back against back, three people came closer, it's the three she shared the cage with, she and Benny suggested they walk behind them, so that the two of them can protect them.

The further they walk the more danger they seem too run into, Benny takes the most werewolves, windigos and Leviathan's , as for you, you take most of the other human beings, who wants to attack the two teenage girls and old man.

You are bruised, beaten and torn up, unsure if your body is covered in your own blood or those of the enemies, you keep on going, grateful, that you had these people to protect, because if you had to be honest, if it weren't for them, you wouldn't fight so hard to survive, every now and then you get flashbacks of how Dean got shot, knowing it was fatal, you don't want to allow yourself to think that he could be really gone, there's this glimmer of hope that he might still be alive, maybe Sam helped him, maybe Cas or Crowley.

 Resting against a tree to catch your breath, you see the blood gushing down your arm, one of the men came at you with a damn axe, and in the fight he threw the axe towards you, pinning you against a tree, it must've been the adrenaline but you wiggled that axe, out of you arm, screaming while throwing it back at him, which ended up between his eyes.  You fell too your knees, the emotion welling up behind your eyes, you get caught off guard when someone or something picks you up in the air. A little weak, and confused all you can see is that your draped over the large man, with multiple tattoos shoulder, it didn't take long, too lose consciousness.

Dean could not believe what he just heard, both Cas and Crowley told him, that they heard you call out too them, they knew where you were, you where caught in Purgatory, damn Purgatory. What the hell is going on. It felt like someone took his very last breath. His been too Purgatory, It's no joke for sure, it changed him, the only person who made him whole was her, his sweetheart and now, now she's going through all of that.

Crowley spoke with his people, which revealed, that the one and only Dick Roman sits behind it all, with a connection in the real world, who takes normal people, of all ages just to make money, and feed his obsession of killing people.

His quiet, as he drives too the place where the portal opens to Purgatory, thinking about all the things there, so many monsters, dangers around every corner. He just hopes, his going to make it in time, she just has too be okay, has to be alive, squinting his eyes as he recalls what he had too do, too survive.

"Sweetheart you awake?" Rolling over too the right side of the bed, emerald green eyes looking back at you, "Baby?"

"Why do you look so surprised sweetheart"

"Uhmmm I'm not really sure, it feels so right yet so wrong" she smiled

Without a single word, Dean cups your face, places his lips on yours, its sweet, it's sensual, yet filled with passion. Breaking the kiss, you look at him, studying his face, the speck of hazel around the black pupil, the way, his freckles runs across his nose, almost like the milky way, the corners of his mouth, that is slightly curled in a smile, his plumps lips, that's slightly swollen from the kiss, the little stubble on his chin and cheeks, the way his jawline just kind of frames his picture perfect face, the way his deep smoky voice fills the air, and your body with a exhilarating energy, "Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked.

Your voice barely audible and brittle, "I just love you, I love you more than life itself"

 His voice calm, but certain "Marry Me"

Your jaw dropped, "What?"

He started to kiss your lips softly, his breathe hot as he said "Yes babe, I want you to be my wife?"

Searching his eyes your lips crept upwards into a smile, your voice sounded more brittle than you intended "Yes, yes Dean Winchester, I'll marry you"

The joy dancing in his green eyes, made you happy, even though a few stray tears rolled over your cheeks.

Feeling like your walking on cloud nine, then all of the sudden, you get this sharp pain in you ribs, unwillingly your eyes flutter open, gasping for air "what the hell?"

Looking around you, seeing your in some kind of room, chains around your wrists, hanging from what looks like the ceiling, clothing blood-soaked. Hair sticking to your face, sweat mixed with blood. Your feet barely touching the floor, it feels as if your arms is getting pulled out of their sockets if you move to much, your throat dry, realizing you must've been passed out, it wasn't really a dream, more like a memory, Dean did ask you too marry him, and then outta nowhere, two days later, you where left standing in the rain, the tears streaming down your face, unsure if it's about the way Dean left things, or the situation your currently thrown in.

Sighing, whispering to no one really "I'm tired, I'm so tired, I can't anymore and I don't want to anymore" head hanging down, looking at the floor, closing your eyes, wishing all this could be over, you heard heavy footsteps, laughter filling the dark air.

His voice smooth "All this turned out better than I could've imagined"

Confused you glare at him "okay, fine you win, get it over with"

Walking closer towards you, big smug on his face, "see, I can't deal with you yet, I know who you are" getting angrier now "I'll finally get my revenge, Dean will watch you die, he wanted to send me here, now I will take something precious from him"

Shocked to hear that he thinks Dean is still alive , she plays along maybe, it's her way out, Scoffing "Well sorry to hear you think he'd be coming to look for me, because we aren't together no more"

He laughs, "oh no, he is already here, searching for you, my men left him a little bread trail, as to where you are"

Furious now, you shake, trying to get loose, shouting "You leave Dean alone, kill me , but let him go please"

Clapping his hands together, "Ah, young love" he laughs harder "I am going to kill you, but Dean needs to watch, then I'll kill Sam, Cas and even Crowley, all while Dean has to watch"

Eyes wide, barely audible "They're all here"

His smug smile never leaving his face "oh yes, all of them, clearly they care, its so pathetic, you humans, you know that?"

Squinting her eyes, trying too fight the tears threatening to spill over, you care about all of them, more than you care to admit.  He just simply walks out of sight. The silence is deafening, the only thing she can hear is her heart racing, Dean's alive, he came looking for her. Somewhere between the excitement of hearing Dean's alive and the spine chilling silence, she lost consciousness.

 They hardly had too beat the crap out of some of the men, on their road to this half torn down, factory like building, all of them agreed, it felt like a trap, but Dean didn't give a damn, he needed to find her, save her and bring her home, he has been cursing himself internally, the whole damn way, if only he didn't freak out, but the moment he realized he wanted to marry her, be her husband, wishing he never said that, went on that hunt, saw how that ghost threw her against the wall, the pain she must've felt, he couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt or worst getting killed, just because that's what he did, so saying goodbye, felt like the best thing to do, hoping she'll give up hunting, but he should've known better. He should have stayed by her side, he should have discussed his fears, the way he felt, but instead he went and broke her heart.

The four of them split up, there's to many halls, and doors too search, mostly the halls are filled with darkness, its filthy and disgusting, dried splattered blood on the walls, scattered human bones on the cement floors. There's scratching sounds coming from one of the rooms, the gun in Dean's hand is loaded, opening the door, unsure of what he's going to find, he's skin crawling as a bunch of rats, runs past him, some over his feet, slapping against his legs, whispering underneath his breath, "damn filth". He's heart, beating out of his chest, the more he walks in the darkness the more he can feel the darkness entering his mind, his heart, every grain of his very being.

He stopped in his tracks, the moment he saw her, hanging by chain's, her whole body is slumped over, hair covering her face, he can't make out if she's still breathing, for what felt like an eternity, he froze, almost too afraid to take a closer look. Striding closer till he's right in front of her, he gently takes her face in his hands, concern painted on his face, a burning pain in his chest, her beautiful face is bruised, and bloodied, her breathing faint, but still there, his voice hushed "Sweetheart, can you hear me"

Watching her open her eyes, was a beautiful site, she looked tired, a smile across her busted lips, "Dean,"

"Yes sweetheart I'm here, I'm sorry, I love you" he declared.

Sobbing now, "I... I thought I lost you forever"

"Baby, you'll always have me, always you hear me" he pleaded

Before she could answer a couple of men appeared out of the shadows. There were maybe six or seven, Dean got up, in a fighting stance ready to beat the crap out of them, he started punching and kicking his way, through the men, it wasn't until the last one hit the ground that he'd stop, blood splatters across his face, glancing over at her, he hears the familiar voice of Dick Roman "crashing the party are we?"

"Yeah well I didn't receive an invite so thought I'll invite myself" Dean smirked. He drew his gun, knowing it won't really help, but it's more a habit, "What do you want?" He questioned

Crude laughter fills the air, "I want you to pay Dean" he snapped his fingers, more men came running towards Dean, he tried his best, but he was one against, all of them, they over powered him, one clocked him against the head, in his unconscious state, they were tying him to a chair with chains, facing you.

It didn't take long before they were beating you, biting your lower lip, not wanting to give them the pleasure of seeing you in so much pain, you could taste the blood on the tip on your lip.

Dick Roman came walking towards you, dagger in hand, hoping he couldn't see the pain, and fear in your eyes, your eyes pierced his, he didn't say a single word, he pushed that dagger, through the skin and bone, wedging it between your ribs. Your scream filling the dark room.

Dean's eyes flung open, he's jaw clenched, he's voice angered and defeated "NO BABE" he shouted.

"Ah poor Dean Winchester" he laughed

Dean's green eyes, now almost black, "I'm going to kill, I promise you that"

Laughter filled the air, once again, it didn't last long though, surprised he glanced at them, Sam, Cas, Crowley and Benny, all four off them stood their bloodied and beaten, but ready to fight. All four of them started fighting and killing their way towards Dean and you, Crowley was the first one to stand next too Dean, his British voice almost inaudible "This belongs to you" he's face lit up with a sly smile.

Dean looked at him all confused, "I thought you threw this in the sea somewhere"

Crowley just shrugs his shoulders. The moment he placed that blade in Dean's hands he could feel the mark, turning a fiery red, the power pulsing through his veins, it didn't take long for the effects to take control of him, breaking loose out of the chain's, he faces Dick Roman, a smirk on his lips, he's features darkens. Taking that blade right too his chest, he kept going over and over, not stopping for a second, driving the blade further and deeper into his now lifeless body.

Sam tried to make him stop, even Cas, Benny and Crowley, but it didn't work.

Your voice brittle, revealing the pain, "Dean stop, please Baby"

Immediately stopping, he threw the blade down, running towards you, his eyes pleading, his voice soft "Sweetheart I'm so sorry" cupping your face, kissing your lips, holding you close to him, as Cas and Sam unlocks the chains, your body went limb, all you could feel is his hands holding you upright. Staring into his emerald green eyes, mouthing "I love you" the last thing you catches a glimpse off, was the light in his eyes as he replied "I love you too, Sweetheart, come back to me, come home please"

 It's been almost three years since that dreadful day, smiling now, if it weren't for Dean begging Cas to save you, you wouldn't be here baking your husband his birthday pie, getting ready for the barbeque, with your good friends Sam, Cas, Benny and yes even dear old Crowley.

Did you and the Winchester Brothers stop hunting, no, of course not, but the two of you have each other and that's all you'll ever need, whenever your lost, knowing Dean's your lighthouse showing you the way home, with those beautiful green eyes.

[weirdmorefics]

LOL I totally can imagine Crowley teasing Aziraphale about his doppelganger being Y/N's dog! GHCJNCFZZHGNCGKCNJGDSJ

Aziraphale's Secret Twin

Pronouns- They/Them

Word Count- 742

Summary- The reader's dog sitter cancels last minute so they are forced to bring their bichon frise to the bookshop.

Aziraphale x Reader x Crowley (can be read as platonic or romantic)

Y/n was running late for their job at the bookshop which wasn't all that unusual because they always stopped for coffee at Give Me Death Or Give Me Coffee first. However, this time was a little different as they had everything ready to go just anxiously waiting for the dog sitter to pick their baby up. Unfortunately, the sitter called just minutes after their usual arrival time that they had the flu and could not make it. Y/n assured them it was fine and wished them a quick recovery.

Y/n squatted down to their dog's eye level, " Now what are we going to do with you today Mr." They ruffled their dog's fluffy head of the dog as the dog smiled widely back.

Y/n only saw one option they would simply bring their dog with them but hide it in their bag. Y/n couldn't possibly leave the pupper alone all day not with the dog's major separation anxiety and tendency to get into the trash.

Y/n tried to walk into the bookshop as quietly as possible but of course, the bell on the door immediately alerted Aziraphale to their presence.

"Good morning, Y/n" He smiled and welcomed them in. "I was thinking the bookshelves could really use a good dusting today," He says motivated and annunciating the word dusting by swinging his arm up.

Y/n felt the dog go to peek its head out of the bag at the new voice and they quickly try to settle the dog lower into the bag with their hand. Crowley who was sitting on the sofa observing your entrance made note of this action.

"Y/n?" Crowley questions you slightly tilting his sunglasses down his nose.

"Yes," Y/n blinked up at Crowley innocently fluttering their eyelashes.

"Did something just move in your bag?" He continued to question despite your cute efforts to distract him.

Y/n chuckles and makes an awkward excuse, "Maybe you need some prescription sunglasses."

Crowley and Aziraphale can always tell when Y/n is lying well most everyone can tell when they are lying because simply put Y/n is the worst liar in the galaxy. Aziraphalee gives Y/n a questioning look and Crowley slowly stalks towards Y/n like they are a deer that will spook at any sudden movements.

Y/n is quite literally back into a corner due to backing up into a wall due to Crowley's advances. Y/n yelps in shock when their back hits the wall and their dog instantly peeks its fuzzy little head out of the bag to check on their owner. Y/n facepalms at themselves how did they seriously think they were going to hide a dog from an angel and a demon for a full workday.

"Y/n, what is that?" Aziraphale points to the dog.

Y/n profusely apologizes, "I am so sorry! My dog sitter last minute canceled and I couldn't bear leaving my little baby at home all day." Y/n then lifts the little snowball dog from their bag and rubs it against their cheek.

Crowley rubs his chin in thought, "You know what Angel the little thing looks remarkably similar to you."

Aziraphale looks a tad offended putting a hand to his chest, "How does a dog look like me?"

Y/n nods looking between the dog and Aziraphale, "You know what I see it!"

Aziraphale's eyes narrow, "You do not Y/n!"

Crowley looks at Y/n, "I think it's the hair."

Y/n nods vigorously, "It's the fluffiness and curly cues! Now that I think of it they even act alike! My puppy is a true food connoisseur who only likes fancy expensive food. My puppy is super upbeat and always smiling like Aziraphale!" Y/n seems to get more and more excited as Crowley and they come up with more similarities.

"Fine, I must admit the hair is similar but do not compare my smile to a dog's smile." Aziraphale sighs.

Crowley smirks, "Don't worry angel no one has as cute of a smile as you."

To the untrained eye, no one would notice Aziraphale's slight blush and look to the side but Crowley who had known Aziraphale from the beginning, and Y/n who caught on quite quickly from working daily with the pair noticed instantly. Both had to fight back the huge smirks on their faces but both failed miserably.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

perhaps a lil crowley x reader req?

inspired by strange love by halsey?

as a treat?

not me going into this song for the first time (never heard it before) expecting something super melancholy. anyway! here you go, cutie!

Requests are: OPEN

No Pity for the Wicked (18+ ONLY)

Masterlist

Crowley x GN!Reader

No use of Y/N or pronouns (They/Them used only)

CW: angst, angry fucking, hair pulling, Crowley ignoring his feelings (canon honestly)

It's been six months since he left. Crowley's Angel. His best friend. His other half. It's been six months since he's heard a Goddamn peep.

And yes, he doesn't care so much anymore about blaspheming against the name of God. He was always so careful about it around his Angel.

Now? His Angel is gone. His Angel isn't there to care what he says.

Gone to follow along with the Metatron's plan all the way to his and everyone else's destruction, no doubt. How could Aziraphale not see that? How could Aziraphale not see past the surface to the rot underneath? And they called Hell ruthless.

Nevertheless, the last six months had been Heaven on Earth for Crowley. His only Hellish piece of reprieve was his favourite pet. His mortal. They'd all been friends before Aziraphale left.

Well, this moral had accompanied him and his Angel around despite their warnings against it. A Demon and an Angel could be discorporated and come back, but a mortal? Well, one little mistake and they were gone for good.

This little human. This pet had stuck extra close to Crowley since Aziraphale had left. Crowley hated to see the pity and concern painting their face when he was having a particularly awful, nice day. Not that any of them were all that... Hellish any more.

But it was the pity that really irritated Crowley- a Demon already prone to frustration and mild to moderate anger issues, mind you. And if this human- asked him one- more- time, if he was okay; he was going to lose it.

Of course, as humans were always going to (a flaw in the design if you asked Crowley)- this particular mortal would push, and push, and push until Crowley's metaphorical buttons were all but snapped in half. And Crowley had had enough.

And that's how Crowley found himself balls deep inside his pitying little mortal, doing his damndest to convince them that, actually, no. Crowley did not need their pity.

Crowley snarled above them, pulling at their hair, yanking their head back away from the Bentley's door. His mortal's breath fanned across the windows, streaking the glass with damning evidence of the acts being carried out within.

"I- am a Demon," he snarls, teeth flashing dangerously by the mortal's ear. "I am not to be pitied." This is emphasised with a hard thrust from behind, causing the mortal to yelp, hand slapping up against the fogged glass to keep themselves steady.

Crowley lets out a deranged throaty chuckle, hand coming down to grip harshly at his pet's hip.

"I've lived eons on this pathetic excuse for a planet. This Earth-" The hand wraps harder around the mortals' hair. The hand on the glass slips, smearing through the fog marks. It's a wonder they can hear Crowley over the sounds of their own whimpers and moans. "This breeding ground for sin. I have seen eons of pain, and I'll see eons more!"

Crowley's head tips back, baring his throat's apple. A little lock of hair falls over his forehead- the only indication that he was at all affected by the pleasure of his hips snapping forward into the tight heat before him.

His mortal whines out Crowley's name, lost in the haze of being fucked by a Demon. Crowley had had thousands of years to learn how to fuck the way Humans liked it. More than enough time, clearly, given the fact they'd already come twice and another was well on the way.

Of course, the mortal knew deep down that this was not a convincing way for him to show them that Crowley was okay. That was obvious to anyone with half a brain cell, but this didn't mean they were going to argue- what with Crowley's decidedly not entirely human-feeling dick buried inside them.

"Fuck- Crowley-" They whined, eyes squeezing shut.

"No," Crowley hisses, twisting their hair so the mortal could just see him over their shoulder. They couldn't see his eyes though, sunglasses still hiding those from them. A coping mechanism, they suspected. "Look at me, pet. Look at me when you cum."

The mortal whines, hand reaching back to brush Crowley's hip in warning. They were sure the human body wasn't quite meant to be this flexible, but Crowley didn't care. He needed this, whether he knew it or not.

Crowley's thrusts increase with urgency, both for himself and his mortal. They're both close, and they know it. Crowley lets go of his pet's hair, allowing their head to flop forward and their cheek to press against the Bentley's leather backseat.

With his other hand free, Crowley is able to grip both sides of their hips and pull them back against him, thrusting hard and fast to reach that blissful peak where he might be able to forget. Just for a moment.

His mortal finishes with a cry, fingers grappling with the leather as they try to work their way through the assault. Crowley fucks them through their orgasm, prolonging the pleasure they're feeling without mercy.

It takes only a few more thrusts before he finishes too, coating their insides with ropes of his cum, an almost-roar ripping its way through his throat. The pleasure hazes his brain for a minute or two, courses of pleasure wrapping around his nerves.

Slowly, he pulls out, watching the way his mess starts to drip out of his mortal. He chuckles breathily and waves a hand to miracle away the mess. He's kept the Bentley in such pristine condition all these years. He's not going to let it go now.

"I- do not- need your pity," he pants, pointing an accusatory finger at his mortal who promptly nods and collapses against him, snuggling up close. They know it's not true. They know he needs them right now.

They're happy to wait as long as it takes though.

Crowley's worth it.

[hretoprvdthepltnx]

Hihi !! Before i request I just love your writing so much and I couldn’t resist to request this!!

Could I request a teen! Reader (angel) who’s sees crowley & aziraphale as their parental figures who is trying to make something nice for them?

The reader is super silly and innocent so like the stuff they make look like something else 💀

Handmade

Ineffable Husbands x teen!angel!reader

Summary: Y/n wants to do something special for their favorite angel/demon duo. So, they try their ethereal hand at the human art of crafting.

Content: y/n uses they/them pronouns, improper use of miracles,

Note: Anon, you're such an absolute sweetheart. I appreciate you so much. Unfortunately, I didn't realize what you meant by 'something else' until after but hopefully you still enjoy the fic.

Rating: 14+ || 500+ w.

Gifts were important. Gifts were a way of expressing profound love for an individual, at least that is what Aziraphale had taught you. Gifts meant a lot; they were a language all their own. Gifts meant I love you.

Gifts were hard.

You stared at the heaping pile of crafting utensils Maggie from the record shop had leant you. There were a lot of options and she had even been kind enough to make you a list of ideas, the only problem was that none of it seemed quite right for Aziraphale and Crowley.

You stared at the felt and the streamers and silently willed yourself to come up with an idea, but nothing happened. Sighing, you sat back with your shoulders pressing against the side of Aziraphale's desk. It was lucky that they were out, the sight of you sitting on the floor surrounded by confetti might raise an alarm. Or perhaps not, you were prone to floor sitting.

You tossed your head back against the leg of the table and the telephone jingled with the bang. Perhaps you should call her and ask for her help, but no, this was your idea, and it would make it even more special if you did it yourself. There had to be something you could make.

Your eyes drifted to a stray bottle of silver glitter and stayed there, staring with such mindless intensity it was a miracle the tension didn't cause the bottle to bust. Miracles. You could use a little miracle of your own right about now.

"Wait," you sat up too quickly, dizzying yourself, and snatched up the little plastic bottle of glitter. "If it's only a small miracle, and one for good, then I can't possibly get in trouble for it. And it's still like I'm making it myself, because I am." A smile stretched wide across your face, and you turned to the plant in the corner, "This is going to be perfect."

Hours later, when Crowley and Aziraphale arrived back at the bookshop, there was a notable difference to the building. That being because the entire inside of the bookshop had turned into a Victorian style ballroom. "Right, well...what's all this?" You beamed at the demon from where you stood in the center of the large room. "Suprise! It's a gift!"

Aziraphale's face went from something sad - which you had luckily missed - to something proud and beaming. "A gift, yes! And, oh, how wonderful!" Crowley didn't look quite as convinced. However, he perked up quite notably when the record player you had been fiddling with started to play Queen's Somebody to Love. You offered a hand to both fellow angel and the demon in front of you, "Care to dance?"

"Why certainly!" Aziraphale answered for the both of them, whatever complaint Crowley had been about to give died in his throat as he was yanked along. As you danced, you made a mental note to thank Maggie for the record next time you saw her. Perhaps you might even thank her with a gift.

|| masterlist || navigation ||

story by hretoprvdthepltnx©

Ineffable Husbands/Good Omens copyrighted by Neil Gaiman©

[filmtv2022]

Ineffable Agony

Pairing: Aziraphale x Platonic!Reader x Crowley

Synopsis: One quiet night, Aziraphale and Crowley's world is rocked. A fallen angel is dropped on their doorstep. Their very presence shoves the reality of their Earthly partnership back into view and calls into question the very stability of Heaven and Hell. Aziraphale and Crowley struggle not only to understand the depth of the situation they've found themselves in but also to save the reader.

Warning: bleeding/blood loss + death.

A/N: I tried my best to use gender-neutral language in this one. The reader does have hair, but other than that, I think their physicality is fairly nondescript. As always, I apologize for any mistakes. It's getting late & I'm super tired.

-----------------------------

Warm light spilled out of the wide windows of A.Z. Fell and Co: Antiquarian and Unusual Books. Inside, surrounded by unruly shelves and half-empty bottles of red wine sat the oddest and most right pair in celestial history. Aziraphale had long since set aside his glass of wine, forgoing further intoxication for a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Crowley on the other hand had continued to sip away, which glass or bottle he was on remained a bit unclear.

Feeling his head turning fuzzy, the demon slowed his pace of consumption, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion and inebriation. In the days post averting the apocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley found themselves settling into this new life. One free from apparent oversight from both Heaven and Hell. The two indulged in human luxury wherever and whenever they liked, unencumbered by the pull from their respective head offices. For the first time in millennia, they felt truly free to live as they liked, and what a life it was.  

“How does breakfast at the Ritz sound, Angel? I think I could do with a nice morning out, feeding the ducks, fancy tea… or perhaps we'll pop over to France for some crepes?” 

“That sounds lovely. ” Smiling sweetly at Crowley, he swallowed the last bit of his drink before standing to return the dirty cup to the sink in the back. 

A sudden burst of white light flashed like the sun, flooding the space before being replaced by the wretched orange and red of hell fire, stopping him in his tracks. Inky darkness replaced the flare as fast as it happened. Snapping his attention to the entrance, Aziraphale stood in observation waiting in anticipation for something more to happen. Having seen, the display from his seat, Crowley stood and joined the Angel.

“What’s going on?” 

“I…I don’t know. There was a…”

A sudden thump of something heavy smacking into the door forced him to stop speaking. To the human senses, nothing seemed out of place, the world continued to move just as it always had, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The air began to thrum with energy, the waves pouring into the store erratically, their intensity growing stronger the longer it went on. Crowley hissed, a guttural reaction to the feel of pain that roared through them both. Fighting to stay upright, Aziraphle gripped the demon’s shoulders as he doubled over in pain.

“Are you all right?” Pushing aside the ache that filled his own head, Aziraphale struggled to focus on the present, caught between concern for Crowley and whatever… or whoever was causing this to happen. 

“I’m fine, just dandy, but I’d be better if my insides weren’t twisting around knots.” 

“Yes, of course.”

Closing his eyes, the angel searched for a miracle, one strong enough to put an end to the horrific suffering that flowed freely into the room. Celestial magic hummed over his skin but died as he worked to make it so. Trying again, and failing, dread bubbled hot in in Zira’s chest. 

“It’s not working!”

“Obviously!” 

Groaning, Crowley clutched at his stomach as Aziraphale whimpered next to him. The angel’s head was full to the bursting point as if his mind was being ripped apart at the seams.

“I… I don’t know what to do!” 

Forcing himself to stand to his full height, Crowley removed himself from the angel’s hold, “Fine, I’ll finish this myself.” 

He too searched for a miracle. The darkness of his own magic flooded over his senses as he worked, but nothing happened. The lick of heat that always accompanied his miracles ran cold, leaving a chill over his skin in its absence. Aziraphale’s knees buckled as the pressure in his skull intensified. Dropping to the ground with him, Crowley held onto his angel.

Then as quickly as it started, the vibrations ceased to exist. Panting hard, the pair stood up on shaky legs. Crowley’s hand stayed firm on Aizraphale’s back, helping the Angel along as well as grounding himself. Stumbling toward the door, Zirh’s fingers trembled as he reached for the handle. Glancing at Crowley, he waited for some sign of reassurance, which was freely given in the form of a nearly imperceptible nod. Opening the door, their eyes immediately fell on the torn figure slumped face down on the ground before them. Slashes cut through their jacket and pants, the flesh below ripped to shreds and bleeding heavily. Ichor coated the surface of the stoop, pooling in a wide swath before spilling down the step. Kneeling down to see things more clearly, Aziraphale gently rolled over the stranger, the gore staining his hands red. 

“They’re an angel.” Laying them on their back, his fingers felt for a pulse. It was weak, barely more than a flutter, but it was there.

“Not anymore.” Crowley gritted his teeth as he spoke, the realization of what had happened hitting too close to home, “They’ve been cast down.”

“Cast down? But Heaven they’ve… they’ve taken…” 

“Taken their wings, yes.” 

“That’s not supposed to happen?” 

“And yet it did.” 

“Why?”

“Why not? It certainly makes a statement.” Reaching for their hand, Crowley slowly unfurled their fist, removing the gore-soaked paper from within. 

“A statement for who?”

“Us.” Peeling apart the folds, Crowley read the smeared words aloud, “To the attention of one A.Z. Fell & Anthony J. Crowley. Your actions have consequences that reach far behind the realms of Heaven and Hell. You’ve set something in motion that must be stopped.” 

Locking eyes with the demon, Zira struggles to find words, “What does this mean?”

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.” 

Scooping the fallen angel into his arms, Crowley deftly made his way toward the second floor of the bookshop. Finding the first door on the right partially open, he pushed it open with his foot. A couple of strong strides had him standing next to the bed, scanning over their face for any sign of familiarity. Finding nothing, he placed them down on the mattress on their side before turning his attention to the wounds. Trying yet again to use his magic, Crowley reached out in search of a way to staunch the flow. The stream slowed slightly, but not nearly enough.

“The bleeding won’t stop.” Waiting for an answer, he pushed his palms into the worst of the gashes, but when no response came, he shouted for assistance, “Angel, a little help here!”

“Oh, yes!” knocked back into reality, Aziraphale made his way to the bed, his stained hands once again reaching for the being before him. Using what little magic he could muster, he managed to lessen the bleeding to a trickle.

Feeling it still running between his fingers, Crowley’s head dropped between his shoulders, a deep exhale releasing as he tried to let go of the panic coursing through his system. It was an unnatural state for the demon, one that he’d only felt a few other times in his 6,000 years of life. He’d done a keen job of compartmentalizing the memory of his own fall, relegating it to the deepest depths of his mind. This, however, hit too close to home. While he’d been lucky enough to keep his wings, the transition from Heavinly Being to a Demon of Hell was horrific at best. The darkness, the pain… the loneliness. It was all too much to think about even now, all these years later. 

Letting go of his hold on their wounds, Crowley gingerly placed them on their back, hoping the pressure who stop the rest of the bleeding. Sinking down beside the bed, he rested his head back on the mattress and closed his eyes tightly.

“What could they possibly have done to deserve this?” Aziraphale’s voice cracked as he spoke, his eyes never leaving their face. Brushing his fingers over their hair, he pushed the blood-coated strands out of the way.

“We better hope they wake up so we can find out.” Standing up, Crowley stalked out of the room, pounding down the hall toward the bathroom. 

Turning on the water, he let it pour from the faucet until steam rolled from the stream. Hot enough to scald, he scrubbed vigorously at his hands. The red of the gore was replaced by the angry color of his skin beneath as he fought to rid himself of the stains. Standing in the doorway to the bathroom, Aziraphale watched in concern, his brows furrowed at the sight before. Losing control of himself, Crowley snapped off the water, slamming his fists down upon the porcelain and letting loose a rage-filled growl. Pushing his way past the angel, he pounded down the stairs toward the front door.

Following in his wake, Zira called to his demon, “Where are you going?”

“To find out what in the hell is going on?” 

“But what if something happens… I-I should come with you.”

Snapping around, Crowley’s yellow eyes stopped Aziraphale in his tracks, “Stay here, take care of the angel… demon… thing. I’ll be back, I promise.” 

Nodding in agreement, Aziraphale watched Crowley drive away, the Bentley tires screaming along the pavement.

--------------------------------------------------------

Agonizing flashes of pain radiated from the jagged wounds as cold sweat coated your skin turning into a slick mess of drying blood and perspiration. Spasms racked your body, each one more powerful than the last. You were dying, or so you thought. But what did that really mean for angel turned demon? You were even really alive to begin with? Where would your ‘death’ leave you? Certainly not in Heaven, they’d made it quite clear you were no longer welcome amongst their kind. So that left two other options. One being an eternity in Hell, rotting away with the other demons. The other was much more frightening… nothingness, your soul relegated to the black void somewhere between the realms. Alone. Cold. Unneeded… Unwanted. Stuck in purgatory for all time. 

Time ceased to exist, and all sounds and feelings apart from the physical and mental torment fell away as you were trapped in the endless cycle of pain. Giving into it all, you allowed yourself to fall further away from the light. The beacons of Heaven were only a dim glow on the horizon. Their cool white was replaced by the furious red of the gates below. It was warm, welcoming even. It would have been so easy to let go, to surrender, and yet some small part of you keep a firm hold on the life you’d had before. Unable, or perhaps unwilling, to relinquish it fully.

The gentle press of a hand against your cheek pulled a quiet whimper from you, the touch kind and comforting. A tender voice spoke in a low mumble, their words unclear, but their intentions certain. There was something familiar about it as if a long-lost friend had come to visit. 

“I’m so sorry, but this is going to hurt.” 

Undoing the buttons of your shirt, the person gingerly pulled you into their chest, your forehead resting on their shoulder as they removed your top. A strangled groan fell from your lips at their ministrations.

“I know, I know.” Smoothing over your hair, they laid you back on the bed, this time on your side so they could access your body. 

Walking around to the other side of the bed, they began the delicate work of cleaning the wounds. Rag and after rag came away crimson, and the cloths were discarded nearby on the floor. Slowly, but surely, the gashes were stitched and covered. Finished closing the wounds, they began to wash away the rest of the blood as best they could. The task was slow and tedious. 

“There, that’s better. Now. let’s get you some fresh clothes.” 

Standing from the bed, Aziraphale sought out a pair of his pajamas. Returning to your side, he slipped the jumper over your head and shoulders, taking great care to not bump your most tender spots. Moving on, he carefully peeled away your trousers, the white was splotched with darkening red. Dropping them on the pile of used rags, he then shimmied the plaid bottoms over your frame. His hands were unsure and timid as he moved. 

Once again laying flat on your back, Zira pulled a blanket over you. Taking a moment to adjust the pillows, he sank back down into the spot next to you, his hands wrapping warmly around your own. 

“Who are you?” 

The previous question was barely more than a whisper, making the utterance of a name from your lips even more surprising. With eyes closed tight, and no other signs of consciousness, a singular word tumbled out for him to hear.

“Aziraphale…” 

Zira was left speechless. What about him? Why were saying his name? 

In a measure of cosmic timing, the telephone downstairs began to ring. It’s incessant trill bounding off the walls, calling to the angel. Leaving his spot, he was forced to let go of your hands. The loss of his touch caused a pained look to contort your features.

“I’ll be right back, don’t you worry.” 

Silence fell over the room, as Aziraphale quietly closed the door behind himself, leaving you alone. It was as if in his absence the darkness began to creep back in, closing the distance between you and the void. Black hands reached for you, threatening to drag you away from the world of the living. Fighting against their searing grip, your body twitched and thrashed on the bed. Soon the motions were followed by gasping screams, the sounds shrill and bloodcurdling flew down the stairs toward Aziraphale. The pounding of footfalls was masked by the blistering screeches from Hell that rang in your ears. Soft hands gripped your shoulders, calling to you through the panic.

“I’m here, I’m…” Placing his palm on the side of your head, the heat rolling off your skin nearly burned him. Knowing he needed to act quickly, he flooded your mind with celestial light. Instantly, your body began to relax and your temperature dropped.

Falling limp against the pillows, your chest rose and fell in rapid succession. Sweat had soaked through the collar of the shirt, staining it darker than the rest. Aziraphale’s fingertips ran in soft arcs down your face as he continued to murmur words of comfort. Fearful of leaving your side again, he yanked the chair from the corner of the room to the side of the bed. Clasping your hand in his, he took a seat and waited. Crowley would be back soon enough, he’d promised.

------------------------------------------------

Hours passed and eventually, sleep overtook Aziraphale. Slumping back in the chair, he managed to keep a hold of your hand. Returning to the bookshop with little to no information in hand, Crowley made his way upstairs in search of his Angel. The door to the first guest room was flung wide open, and he was greeted with the image of Zira fast asleep, the lines of worry still creased between his brows. With his promise to return in mind, Crowley softly shook the angel awake. 

“You’re back.”

“I promised, didn’t I.” 

“Of course, What did you find out?”

“Not much. Nothing seems out of place, and the lines between Hell and Earth are quiet. Whatever this is, it’s either from Heaven alone or somebody’s going to dangerous lengths to keep it hidden.” 

“Hidden? They were dropped on our front porch! How is that hidden?” 

“You’ve got a point, but it doesn’t change the fact that there's nothing on the radar.” Turning to look at the stranger on the bed, Crowley’s tone softened as he spoke again, “How are they doing?” 

“As best as can be expected… there was so much blood.” Shifting forward, Aziraphale adjusted his grip on your hand, “They spoke in their sleep while you were away. It didn’t make sense, but they spoke.”

“What did they say?”

“My name…”

“You name? As in Aziraphale, Angel of the Eastern Gate, giver of the flaming sword and forestaller of the end of days” 

“That’s what I’ve said isn’t it?” Impatience touching the edge of the question.

“Yes, but how would they know your name?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea…” 

Crowley’s thoughts raced at the realization of what that could mean for Heaven. If they had fallen so far as to mutilate those they cast down then things were much worse off than he’d ever expected.

“Perhaps Heaven’s become more like Hell than they’d ever care to admit.” 

Stunned into silence, the pair sat quietly for a while, observing the rise and fall of your chest. The steady movement was just enough to ease some of the worries that festered. 

“There was one other thing they said while you were gone?”

“Yes?” 

“The phone rang while you were out, when I left to answer, they… they started to scream—terrible screeching wails, as if… as if Hell itself was coming for them. And when I returned, their skin… it was burning like fire. Between the screams, they were calling for you.”

“Me?”

Nodding yes, he continued on, “Over and over, begging… pleading for you. They know us Crowley, and yet I’m sure I’ve never seen this face before.” 

“Neither have I.” 

----------------------------------------------------------

Morning broke over the quaint yet busy street, and the rumble of cars and voices floated in from outside. Your eyes fluttered open, and the unchecked sunlight beaming into the room assaulted your sensitive eyes. Hissing at the daggers of light, your whole body recoiled. Slamming your lids shut again, you scrambled back to retreat from the intrusive light. The mangled flesh of your back crashed against the headboard in your attempt to flee from the light. The sudden movement sent shockwaves through your body as the stitches in your wounds tugged sharply. Hearing and feeling your stir, Aziraphale and Crowley sat bolt upright in their respective positions. Zira in the same chair as the night before, and Crowley in the vanity chair across the room. 

Catching your attempt to flee from the overwhelming sensations, Aizraphale reached for your shoulders and tried his best to push you back down into the pillows. His sure hands were commanding and gentle as they kept you from hurting yourself further. 

“You’re all right. Careful now or you’ll rip your stitches.” 

Simultaneously, Crowley was up out of his chair, his own hand coming up to grip your chin, holding your face in his direction. Your eyes flew open again as if called to look by some hell-born bond. And what he saw brought a moment of hesitation. The whites of your eyes were flooded with a sickening crimson as if every blood vessel had burst. While your pupils were blown large, covering nearly the entirety of your eyes. Shaking off the unsettling nature of your appearance, the demon deftly removed his sunglasses and placed them on your face. 

“It’s their eyes, they’re not used to the light.” Stepping back, Crowley reached out a hand to Aziraphale, pushing him away from you, “Careful, Angel, emotions can be a bit unsteady.” 

“It’s all right, Crowley. As you said, they’re in pain, why don’t you let me help.” 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” 

“Nonsense!” stepping back to your side, Aziraphale’s fingertips aligned with your temples as a gentle light filled the room.

Your breathing began to slow as the ache faded both mentally and physically. Slowly, you opened your eyes, finding that the dark lenses made the world around you much more bearable to view. Weakness replaced the pain leaving you incapable of moving, your power sat dormant, but hot beneath your skin. The heady mix of emotions melded together in what was certain to become an explosive combination. 

Pushing down the flames, you spoke as if greeting old friends, “Crowley… Aziraphale… finally.” 

“How do you know our names?” Zira’s question was far from accusatory.

“Oh Aziraphale, I’ve known you for thousands of years… the same goes for you, Crowley.” 

“Who are you? Why do you know us?” Crowley on the other hand couldn’t help the accusation that threaded over his words.

Tilting your head to the side, you focused on him. The yellow of his snake-like eyes glinted in the sun, strong and fierce in demeanor. 

“It was my job, to know you, to follow your biddings here on Earth. Like a celestial watchdog, I suppose.” 

“Watchdog?” Crowley tensed at the very thought of Heaven having watched him for millennia after his fall. 

“Yes. It was my job to track your movements, particularly in the years since your delivery of the AntiChrist. Well, you and Aziraphale. There was some… hesitation regarding the pair of you, given your shared history of questionable decision-making. Need I mention your flaming sword and apple debacles?” Your voice was weak and breathy as if speaking drained you of what little energy you’d recouped.

“All right, no need to rub it in. Enough about us, you’ve yet to answer our other question, demon. Who are you?” 

“Well, I don’t know how this works exactly, but I suppose my angelic name will do for now. I’m Y/N.” 

“And why are you here… Y/N?” Aziraphale uttered your name sweetly as if to encourage you to continue. 

“It’s simple really, I’m the same as you, Crowley. I asked too many questions… I doubted the ineffable plan.” Sinking further back into the pillows, you turned your head to look at the demon. 

“You what? Why?” Aziraphaled asked in shock.

“Because… you were happy.” Shifting your body slightly so that you could gaze at him, you felt a warm hand wrap around your own, “And the more I watched you here on Earth enjoying your lives together, the humanity … it made me think. Why were we going to end it all? And after such a short time as well? I saw how you looked at the world and couldn’t imagine it ceasing to exist. But even more than that… I couldn’t bear the thought of…” 

Your voice caught in your throat as a fresh spasm racked your frame. The tightening of the muscles along the expanse of your back ripped the air from your lungs causing you to gasp and groan. Folding forward at the waist, the glasses slipped down your nose exposing your eyes to the blinding rays once again. Desperate to block it out, you pressed the heel of your palms into your eyes knocking the sunglasses onto the blanket covering your lap. Steady vibrations rolled through the space around you as your power spilled out unchecked. A blood-curdling wail tore from your lips as your skin flushed hot from the touch of Hell once more. Shocked by the sounds, Aziraphale took a few steps back, putting some distance between the two of you.

Crowley had returned to your side, his strong hands holding tightly to your biceps. The heat of your skin burned and blistered his palms, and yet he remained unfazed. 

“Y/N, Y/N, listen to- listen to me. You’ve got to push away, you’ve got to fight against it!”

Gripping you tightly, he watched as your body spasmed beneath his touch. Blood soon tinged the light cream of the jumper you were wearing, the sudden movements having torn the stitches from your flesh. Furthermore, the heat radiating from within you singed the fabric, leaving behind blackened holes in its wake. A wet gurgle accompanied your labored breathing as if you were drowning on dry land. Coughing and choking, a blackish liquid oozed out the corners of your mouth, the scene grew more horrific as the substances ran down the exposed column of your neck. Crowley’s palms smoothed over it, wiping away the mess as best he could, but it just kept coming. Every wet hack brought more of it flooding out to replace what he’d tried to clean up. 

“Crowley! Crowley, what’s happening?” Stammering, Aziraphale was frozen to his spot.

“They’re dying, the transition is consuming them.”

“But I thought-”

“Whatever you thought about this was wrong, Angel. This is the reality.”

“But I… what we can do?” 

“There’s nothing we can do except ease their pain and hope for the best. It’s up to them now. Either they find the strength to fight against the darkness or it consumes them.” 

Trembling, Zira moved to your side and eased himself down onto the bed. Cautiously, he reached out to touch you, his hand brushing over Crowley’s as he sought out your temples. 

Turning his head to look at the demon, Aziraphale whispered one simple word, “Together.” 

Understanding what he meant, Crowley nodded his head silently. Placing the pads of their fingers along your hairline, the two worked to rid you of the pain. A calming wash of peace flooded over you, chasing out the panic and terror. Your hot skin now sat cool to the touch, and the blisters covering Crowley’s hands began to heal. Slowly, your breathing regulated and the crackling wetness ceased to hinder your lungs. Serene peace settled over your features as they untwisted from the pain. Sensing that the limit of help and available miracles for this situation had been reached, both Crowley and Aziraphale sat back. Their eyes never left you as they watched for signs that their magic had failed. Zira was the first to speak

“What do we do now?”

“We wait.” 

“For how long?”

“Not long now I think.” Crowley’s voice was thick with emotion. 

Tracking the rise and fall of your chest, the pair watched as the movement became more erratic. The time between inhales turned more inconsistent and further apart the longer time went on. Eventually, it stopped altogether, and the last vestiges of pain fell from your features leaving behind a mask of perfect peace. 

“What do we do now?” Zira asked in shock.

“We find out who the hell is responsible and we make them bleed” Looking Aziraphle in the eyes, Crowley's own brimmed with emotion, “But more importantly, we live, we live for them.

[avocado-writing]

Oooo what about Aziraphale x Crowley x reader where the reader has had sex once before a long time ago so they’re super nervous for their first time with the two.

I hope you’re doing well and remember to take time for yourself! :)

notes: thank you both so much! It always makes me smile when people like how write these two 😊💕 this is another pair I thought would fit together well!

pairing: aziraphale x gn!reader x crowley

rated: M for light smut

tags: bisexual reader; past unhealthy/toxic relationships; trust issues

It’s not them, it’s you. Which is so fucking clichéd but it is also true.

You’ve had one too many bad experiences in the past. One too many partners fuck you over, putting themselves before you every chance they get. You really do know how to pick them, don’t you? A boyfriend who forgot about your anniversary to go drinking with mates, a girlfriend who told you to your face that you weren’t worth her time and you were lucky she bothered with you. All of these things amassed in your mind to make you feel very small indeed. To make you feel like you deserved the nothing that you got. 

So when they came along, all kindness and care and love, you felt… strange. Like it was hard to accept the truth behind their actions. Whenever Aziraphale tells you he’s got a book in you might like, you wait to see how you’re the punchline. When Crowley buys you a drink you brace for him to tell you that you owe him something. 

And when you’re all together, and both of them actually want to take care of you, it’s overwhelming. 

“Sorry,” you say, the first night you lay with them. They’ve noticed how frozen you’ve become, how you’ve begun to shrink away from their kisses and touch. Both of them pull back immediately, no laughter, no mockery; just sincere and utter concern. 

“Why are you sorry, darling?” Aziraphale asks, taking your hand with his, tracing feather-light patterns on your palm with his thumb. 

“It’s just been a bit. I’ve not felt… alright enough to do this for a couple of years.”

Crowley furrows his brow, confused but not angry. 

“You said you had a boyfriend last year.”

You shrink into yourself. “I know. And he wasn’t… good.”

“Oh, my love, come here,” Aziraphale whispers, and the two of them wrap you in their embrace. You feel your heartbeat slow as they hold you there, careful and tight. 

“Being with you is the safest I’ve felt for ages. It’s silly that I’m so nervous.”

“It’s not silly at all, gorgeous,” Crowley hums, running his fingers through your hair. 

“We’ll go as fast or as slow as you want,” Aziraphale agrees, voice kind. Kinder than you’ve heard for a while. Kinder than you thought you deserved. 

And for the first time in a long time, you know that they mean it. All of it: sex, affection, trust. Intimacy shouldn’t be rushed, it should be nurtured, allowed to bloom at its own pace with no expectation to burden it down. 

You feel something in your heart blossom. 

“I love you,” you breathe, and guide their hands to the apex of your legs. When they touch you there fireworks explode in your belly, and when they kiss you one by one you soar. 

They’ll take care of you and you believe it. 

-

taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul  @foolishprincipalitee @smile-eywa@staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @bdffkierenwalker @cool-iguana @ilyatan @civil-groupie @willyoubethepookietomypookster

[angels-hook]

Ma Chérie

Crowley x Demon!Reader

Note: Crowley loves Malice Mizer. Literally no one can convince me otherwise.

Song: Ma Chérie by Malice Mizer

“Come on dance with me! You love this song!” You said, extending your hand out to Crowley, who had been watching you frolic around the room for a few minutes.

“That doesn’t mean I’ll dance to it.” He mumbled, sinking further into his chair, swatting your hand away. “I prefer watching you dance like an idiot and I’d rather not participate.”

“Ma chérie, are you missing me?”

“Ma chérie, are you missing me?”

“Ma chérie, are you missing me?”

The lyrics of the song rang around the room as the two of you argued.

“Oh please, you’re not gonna die. Plus, it’s only us! It’s not like you’ll get pelted with tomatoes for being a shit dancer.” You teased, pulling him up as he continued to complain.

“Koibitotachi wa wake mo naku,

Kikkake mo nani mo naku”

Your hands found his shoulders, while he found your waist as you started swaying your bodies to the song.

“This is stupid.” He grumbled.

“But you’re still doing it, aren’t you?”

He rolled his eyes at your response but you were right.

He didn’t hate dancing with you as much as he said he did.

You could tell too, not that he was being super subtly. His gaze would soften every time your eyes would meet. Well, it was kind of hard to tell through his sunglasses but you like to think that. He would look away every time you’d smile at him, muttering something under his breath.

“Koibitotachi wa wake mo naku,

Kikkake mo nani mo naku”

“Ma chérie”

“Ma chérie”

“Ma chérie”

Before the last line of the song, Crowley twirled you.

“That’s new.” You said with a chuckle.

“Don’t get used to it.”

“Hoshi furu yoru o machi negai o kakeyou.”

“Kurikaesu sono kotoba wa inori no kotoba.”

The two of you finally separated as the song faded out.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it, ma chérie?” You said with a smirk.

“I’ve always hated this bloody song.”

IVE HAD THIS SONG STUCK IN MY HEAD FOR SO LONG AND I NEEDED TO WRITE SOMETHING WITH IT 🙏