#supernaturalff

[queenofgoats]

Shadows & Fears | Imagine having a date with Crowley

Summary: You’re the lucky human being who dived deep into the SPN Universe. Unfortunately you fell in royal demonic hands. So let’s see how you will get out.

Characters | !no pairs! : Crowley x Reader (gender not mentioned)

Word Count: 2.708

Warning: angst, alcohol, flirtations and words = just spn ;), no cheesy romance stuff

A/N: So. It's been a long, long time since I wrote a FF at all. And it’s my very first in english - so please be gentle. ;) I had a lot of fun while writing and hope whoever is gonna read it enjoys it at least a little bit. Feedback is very welcome. 

Have fun! :)

You were led through endless corridors. Which was hardly lighted up or even heated.   Only in the last room at the end of the hall you could  just guess a warm, flickering light. The thought of what was behind door 3 made you freeze. “Hey, what is the... OH COME ON!” you were shouted at. You didn’t dare to move. Like a deer in the face of the light at a highway.   A rough grib on the upper arm forced you to go on. Your breath became heavier. Faltering. Would the brothers come and save you? At the door frame you stuck again. You couldn’t, no, you didn't want to go in there. This would be your end.

And you were so careful. No involvement in the cases, at most some background research. Even to Sam and Dean you didn’t mention a word about their fate, however difficult it was. And damn it, it did! Still, you knew that it was only a matter of time before the bubble burst.   You just wanted a coke from the vending machine at the motel. As if out of nowhere they suddenly stood behind you. Two middle-aged men, really nondescript-looking and before your lips could even form a “help”, you found yourself in the back of a minivan. They were fast, strong and scary quiet. You didn’t know what happened to you until you saw these deep pitch black eyes in the rearview mirror. This couldn’t be true! Your thoughts circled around wildly, blurred and sheer panic ran through you like a poison, which slowly spreads in your nervous system. You knew these creatures very well. How they worked, what they drove or what they were capable of. And you knew him. So far from stories from Winchester or television. That alone was enough to make your blood run cold just imagine what's ahead of you. Various breakdowns later, you were already standing in this old freezer - probably an old slaughterhouse. He loved the atmosphere.

Again the grib at your arm. But this time you stucked. Everything in you resisted. The demon right next you groaned. Apparently babysitting wasn't in his payroll. His face reflected disgust and a certain… overwhelming? “Finally, we meet. Birdie.” This voice. This damn, damn voice. Your eyes squeezed tight, you hoped it was just an imagination. Or maybe you weren't meant. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Slowly he came closer. His presence crushed you, while your body wouldn’t stop shaking. You have never faced anything so dark and threatening.   A hand on your back made you wince. It barely touched the fabric of your top and yet it resembled an iron grip. You blinked open your eyes, the gaze fixed on the floor. A pair of very elegant lace-ups with fine lyra perforations caught your attention. You swallowed.

The king of hell pushed you into the room surprisingly gently and yet firmly. Closing the door made you flinch. You were terrified. So incredibly terrified. “Please, sit down. Don't be shy, my dear. " Breathing heavily, you complied with his request. It was a miracle that you could even hear his words over your hard pounding heartbeat. Crowley was one of your favorite baddies. You hated how he left the show. But you never wanted to meet him. For obvious reasons.   The demon took a seat next to you at a large table. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that one of his peasants stood by the door. The fire in the fireplace slowly thawed you again, but you still shivered. If not at the hand of this monster, you would probably die of pneumonia. You couldn't decide which was better. “Soo...” Crowley started smoothly voiced and as if caught you looked up at him. “We both know why you are here, it’s up to you if we stay in this chilly atmosphere or...” He smirked slightly.  

His hazel eyes drilled through yours, you felt like he was looking straight into your heart. While his voice was so calming and gentle. In fact, if it weren't Crowley himself, you'd find some pleasure in it. You became disturbed by your own thoughts. Focus! For the first time in your suddenly short life you looked at him. Or more at his absolute charming vessel. You got a feel for why he was called the King of Crossroads. A sigh escaped your lips. You took a quick look at the second demon on the door and leaned slightly towards Crowley. Breathe in. Exhale.

“Fine. I’m talking. But! Just under one condition.” you tried to sound professional and acted businesslike. You had a plan. Kind of. But you weren't allowed to show any weaknesses for that. You also saw these kinds of conversations so often in tv shows. You could do it! A twitch of the corner of his mouth indicated that you hit a point. Crowley didn't like arguing. Let alone from a simple human being like you. And yet he looked as if he had expected it. “Of course you have.” he mumbled almost bored. He grabbed himself a glass of whiskey and took a sip without leaving his eyes on you. “That would be? Let me guess y...” “I want a date!” you interrupted him hectically.   Crowley spat the drink across the desk: “A what?!” He didn’t even bother to hide his surprise. “With whom?” “You.”   There was silence for a short moment. The king of hell looked at you in disbelief. He really didn't expect that: “Why? What for?" You first took a look at the demon at the door, who didn't twist a mine, and then back to Crowley. “When I have told you everything, you kill me afterwards. That's ... okay I guess. But I don't want to die here in this hole. I want to shower, look good, and... be alone with you. A one-to-one conversation. Then you will find out everything you want to know.” You tried to smile triumphantly. “A good deal. For both, right?”

Actually you didn’t lie here. There will be no way to survive this. You’re not strong as the Winchesters, or smart like Kevin.   So why not make the best of it? Maybe you can avoid having him face his destiny? Maybe Lucifer won't be released from his cage?   Nobody except Crowley is allowed to hear this. Especially not one of the other demons. They would instant throw a welcome party for Abbadon. The king of hell stayed silent. Presumably he was wondering which part of your body to tear out first with his bare hands. He wasn’t exactly known for his patience. "I can tell you how you are going to die.“ you continued. For a brief moment he raised his eyebrows, but then he finally agreed: “Good. I choose the location."

You felt a painful sense of surprise and relief.

Just a few hours later your time had come.   You stood visibly nervous in front of the entrance of a big old cinema. The fingers kept pulling your clothes into place. Shortly after your deal, a servant brought you to Berlin. There you were allowed to freshen up and get dressed. Everything under the demon's watchful eye, of course. Crowley himself should receive you later in front of the location, it was said. And now you’re here. Oh damn what were you thinking? Sighing heavily, you looked over your shoulder. Maybe you should dare and just run away? Was it worth trying? Did you really want to be led to the slaughter like a pig? A thousand questions buzzed through your head. Yesterday was just a moment of panic. Not really thought out. Somehow. You turned on your heel and were just about to start a run when you heard his voice behind you again: “Birdie! You shouldn’t even think about that. We had an appointment.”

His words sounded so soft and smooth like a good red wine. Crowley knew exactly how to use his british charme.   You took another deep breath before turning to face him. A gentleman who would try, but couldn’t find his equals, Crowley smiled warmly and sweet. Yeah. Like good red wine. Soft and smooth. And poisoned. With an inviting gesture, he waved you over to him: “Let's have a drink, my dear. You look gorgeous by the way, really." He was different from when you first met him. Apparently he took his deals very seriously. You felt a bit like a prostitute's customer. You swallowed hard, but accepted his invitation.

First you entered a large reception room with sparse lighting.The ceiling was completely covered with small lamps that looked almost like a starry sky. While the old wood paneling made everything look a bit old and seedy. "The Kino International was built in the 1960s, right after they pulled up the big wall." Crowley broke the silence. There was a slight smile on his lips. “Oh well... I spent so many years in Germany,” he reminisced. As far as it was at all possible, you felt even more queasy.

A staircase took you to a large foyer in typical East German chic. Even if the brown dominated, it looked surprisingly classy. The chandeliers emitted pleasantly dimmed light, so that you could catch an overwhelming view of Berlin's landmark - the television tower - through the huge panorama windows. You are stunned.

~*~ Possession is the motivation ~*~   ~*~ That is hanging' up the God-damn nation ~*~

~*~ Looks like we always end up in a rut ~*~ ~*~ Tryin' to make it real, compared to what? ~*~

Roberta Flack's voice came to you calmly from the loudspeaker near the bar. If the initial situation were different, you would feel quite comfortable. Still astonished, you looked around as Crowley moved behind the counter. "What would you like to drink, my dear?" he broke your thoughts. “Erm... well... surprise me.” You sat down on one of the bar stools. The demon then rattled off all the barriers and drawers. Your eyes followed his movements until you blurted out: "I can't do this! Sorry!" Crowley furrowed his forehead: "What do you mean?" Desperately you threw your hands over your head. “This!” You bumped. "It’s ridiculous!"

You sighed. Hardly. “Are we really among ourselves here? Just you and me?" "Sure. As agreed." He said dryly as he handed you a freshly made cosmopolitan. You snatched the glass from him and drank the cocktail. In one sip. "Fine. Let’s do this." Then it literally gushed out of you. A long monologue about Abbadon, the darkness and everything that could be of interest to the king of hell. You only left out Chuck. Cause you already had Crowley on your neck and certainly didn't want to provoke God then.

The demon said nothing, just listened and at the same time seemed to be thinking about your words. When you were just finishing up, he put a new cocktail in front of you. Which you also emptied in one go. The nervousness just didn't want to be drunk away. "Mmh." he made. "Do the Winchesters know about it?" You shook your head. “Oleg and Bolek? Of course not." Knowing full well that they would only make it worse. As much as you loved the brothers, you knew that they were a danger to everyone around them. The confusion was written on Crowley's face: “But ... Why me? Don't get me wrong, Birdie, I'm honored and yet ... ” Inevitably you had to smile. "Let's be honest. You're probably the smartest being here. And you have the least interest of anybody else in seeing Lucifer free again. "Not untrue." he muttered. You tapped your finger on the edge of your glass: “Could I possibly get another one? Or wait! Better just the vodka. " Lost in thought, Crowley compiled while you listened to the well-chosen music.

With two glasses in hand, the king of hell stepped around the counter and sat down on one of the stools next to you. You knew you wouldn't leave this place alive. Nevertheless, a faint smile crept onto your lips. “You know Crowley, I like you. Somehow. You're practically my favorite baddie. " you started and held your glass out to him to toast," That's why I know what's in store for me. Still ... one more thing... or more a question." "Which would be? ... and cheers. ”, he checked. His gaze was on you. You couldn't help yourself because you suddenly felt comfortable around him. Safe. It was completely insane.  

The vodka burned your throat. You shook yourself briefly and turned to face him. “Crowley, what if I die here? I mean I don't belong here. No more than a disruptive factor in an intact universe. Am I, my soul, going somewhere or ... am I stuck? " The thought has plagued you since you (unintentionally) set foot in this cursed universe. You knew you didn't belong here. Every fiber of your body lets you feel it. All the time. So far you haven't really been able to grasp the fear, but rather suppressed it. But now it was sitting in a heavy weight on your shoulders. A deep sadness took you. Tears welled up in your eyes. You leaned against the demon next to you. The head was put  on his shoulder. You didn't want him to see you cry. Apparently you still have a bit of your pride left.  

You heard Crowley sigh. “Birdie, I can't tell you that. I don't know." His hand landed on your knee. It was surprisingly soft and warm, but nevertheless you twitched. “I've never heard of anything like you before. I'm sorry, and it really is, I can't help you.” Was it really Crowley who offered you comfort? Crowley? With a heavy heart you straightened up again. The alcohol slowly got into your head. Finally You leaned towards him, very close to his face. His breath brushed your cheek. The hairs stand up on the back of your neck which leads to goosebumps. You were mildly aroused and then grimaced as soon as you noticed.

The demon looked irritated: “What’s wrong?” “Nothing.” You felt stupid. “I just... I thought. You’re far far out of my league. Forget it. Please.” You wrapped the arms around you and blushed.   “I understand.” Crowley grinned. “Oh my sweet, sweet summer child.” He leaned back and studied you intently. “I don’t give a damn fuck about human current body preferences. It’s constantly changing anyway.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m a demon, as you may remember, and all I desire is to spoil a pure soul beyond any recognition.” Embarrassed you thought about his words.

“Crowley...”, you began almost in a whisper, “would ... would you take my soul?” Hell didn't scare you nearly as much as the thought of your ghost going full vengeful in that old movie theater. He laughed. Loud. It was cold, arrogant and left you freezing. You felt it right down to the bones. "What should I do with it?" For the first time that evening, the demon came through him so clearly. You were afraid of him. More than ever before. You let him fool you. He leaned back in amusement and studied your shocked face. "Babe, your soul is useless." he said, still smirking and slid off his bar stool. "Another one?" he waved the glass. Ashamed you just nodded. You'd already got rejected dozent of times, but this was by far the worst.

Crowley prepared two glasses on the counter for you. The look he gave you was almost pityingly: "Oh Birdie, don't be like that now." Just slowly he moved back to you until he was right in front of you. "You are already useful." he whispered.   You looked at him wondering. And didn’t understand anything.

“Oleg and Bolek, as you called them so beautifully, still have the lost part of my demon tablet. And my prophet. ”He paused and took a long swig from his glass. "I would be crazy if I got rid of my pretty, little bait now, huh?" While he was speaking the last sentence in a haughty tone , his lips barely touched your ear. Tenderly he brushed a lost strand of hair from your face and patted your cheek.  

His demonic smile indicated that he was definitely the legitimate king of hell.