#the way he followed crowley's movements with his head then did a little smile??? im literally salivating like a starved animal give me a

[p4nishers]

im sorry but this literally is so attractive

[tanzmajor]

endzeit romantik

loosely based on 11x23, bad ending - amara wins and the world is dying.

fandom: supernatural

pairing: crowley/reader

summary: the world is ending - crowley and you share a moment together

warnings: talk of adult themes, end times (the world is literally ending so IDK), light angst, crowley (he's a warning for himself lol), pretty sfw, swear words!

notes: not sure why i wrote this, i was rewatching spn while i was sick and wanted to write some stuff for crowley again. just wanted to capture a moment i guess! im wondering if ppl actually still care about him lol (title means end time romance)

word count: 2.3

The world was ending again because of the entitlement of the Winchesters. Earth would finally pay the price for their stubborn refusal to let the other die.

And you hoped that this time it would end for good.

It wasn’t the comfortable quiet before the storm like the last few times. This time, it felt so real – the end was finally so close for all of you. It wasn’t like those other moments, where you prepared to fight some greater evil that you could actually defeat. Amara was harsh – making sure things would end slow and surely. She made sure, that God was dying for good.

You remembered the apocalypse to be more light-hearted than all of this – you remembered sitting at the table with Ellen and Jo, encouraging Castiel to drink along with you. Seeing how much it would take for Castiel to feel something close to being tipsy. Given the circumstances, it was one of the fonder memories you had of that time.

This time you were stuck in the bunker with an even weirder cast of faces, including but not reserved to God. You were unfamiliar with those surrounding you. Not even the uncomfortable smile that Castiel would throw into your direction when you looked at him could fix that discomfort.

And what the strangest thing about all of this was, was how numb you were towards it all.

You never had to truthfully answer the question of what you would do when the world was about to end. The answer to that had always been decided by others, you just went with the flow – you never spared a thought about calling your family or taking that once-in-a-lifetime risk. But now you were sitting there, not talking or drinking like the others around you. You were sulking in a chair off to the side with furrowed brows – really reconsidering the choices you had made that had led you down to this path.

You should’ve run far away when Sam had approached you back then. Telling him to fuck off and never contact you ever again – you assumed that if you had done that, you’d be spending the last few hours that you had on this pitiful planet with your actual family.

You quietly thought about texting your mother. But what would you say? If you’d text her that you loved her out of nowhere – she would call and be concerned. How does one even break to their mother that the world was going to end soon?

You rubbed your tired eyes briefly. Maybe you should finally finish the last few pages of the book on your nightstand. At least then you could pass knowing you accomplished something meaningful today.

“Care to share a drink with me?”

It was that familiar voice that had given you a heart attack so many times before. You looked up to meet the gaze of Crowley looking down at you, ignoring the others around him like he always seemed to do when he was interacting with you. Dean shot you two a heated glare, a subtle warning to either you or Crowley. You weren’t sure if Dean was trying to tell you to be careful, or if he was threatening the man in front of you. Not that it would matter anymore anyways. Crowley twisted the bottle of scotch in his hand ever so slightly, letting you know that it was what he was talking about.

Spending your last hours next to the supposed King of Hell. Fitting. If there had been a greater logic behind all of the things that had happened today, this would be the next step. You silently wished that things would stop getting weirder and stranger – the thickness in the air of it all was slowly but surely suffocating you. You decided however, that Crowley had different plans. He would take advantage of situations like these – like he always does.

“Ah – I don’t see why not.”

You shifted in your seat to find a comfortable position for your back. Your hair fell into your face, and you quickly brushed it behind your ear. Now was not the time to worry about your looks.

You watched Crowley grab a glass for you and fill it up with the promised, amber liquor. You weren’t a big fan of the taste of pure alcohol, but it wouldn’t matter anyways. You were struggling to feel anything other than despair, and getting a little bit tipsy too fast seemed like a welcome distraction right now.

You watched his hand push the glass closer to you. You had taken his usual spot in the library corner – a tinge of guilt mixed into your other feelings. But only briefly. You nodded towards Crowley as you took the glass into your hands. He smirked at you. You furrowed your brows.

“What?”

You took a sip and watched him push a chair for himself next to you. He sat down, his own glass firm in his grip. His gaze seemed fixed on you. Something was on his mind and you could see it in the way he was looking at you. You didn’t have enough time to properly take the King of Hell apart in your head though. Not that you could anyways, you assumed that it was a task that would take you forever. Eternity if not.

“You trying to make some last deals or something?”

You watched his eyes roll. No one in the room seemed to pay attention to the fact that he was talking to you – not that he could do anything to you anyways. It was like you two were hidden away, behind the corner to yourselves. You assumed that Dean had a tiny bit of his leftover concentration fixed on you. You were frustrated by how overly protective he was being. It felt like a testimony to Dean’s selfishness – that he had the right to decide for you. Crowley spoke, and tilted his head to the side like he usually did.

“Would you like to?”

You huffed a laugh and smiled into your drink. It was an honest laugh, finding it amusing that he decided that now, this moment, would be the right time to cozy up to you.

“I don’t think I have any last wishes.”

“Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

With that, he returned to himself. Obviously reconsidering things as well – although you doubted that he was thinking about anything that could eat away at his conscience. He was a demon, so you weren’t really sure if there truly was anything that he regretted. Maybe he was thinking about his accomplishments, maybe Hell hadn’t been so easy on him after all.

You watched his features, and you could tell he was ignoring your hard gaze. There was tiredness surrounding him, like the centuries he had spent roaming this earth finally settling into his stolen bones. It was that expression he had when he thought that no one was watching. An expression only you ever seemed to really notice. You wondered if he ever got any rest. If he even had the need for a break.

You didn’t bother asking him any of that. You knew full well that even if the world was ending, there wasn’t any good reason to be growing soft on the King of the damned. Although, he did lose his shine in the past few years. He wasn’t as terrifying as he used to be. Maybe he didn’t want to scare you.

You told yourself that it was the desperation in you speaking. The end was so close you could feel it with your entire body – it was natural to struggle and yearn for something intimate. A soft moment between you and anyone, a love confession even. Something unexpected. Something to shake you to the core, to make you forget that it would soon all be gone. For a moment at least.

Maybe you should ask Crowley to come into your bedroom with you. To have fun while it lasts. He didn’t look too bad, and the prospect of doing something so wrong with him, would for sure change your mood for a while. You looked away from Crowley. You hoped that nobody was listening to your thoughts right now.

“I always liked you the best.”

You startled slightly when he spoke again, your eyes trailing from the hand on his glass up towards his face. You never had the chance to get such a close look at him. You weren’t sure what to do with the time at hand. You huffed.

“I’m flattered.”

You watched him take a sip of the liquor. He spoke again.

“You should be.”

Your eyes met his. There was something unspoken going on right now, as if he was trying to shift the conversation towards something specific. Maybe he had just taken pity in you. Maybe he had grown attached to you more than he would like to admit. He could also just be feeling gracious, trying to do something with the situation at hand.

You could hear Dean and Sam talk – both obviously trying to do the same as you and the others. Making something out of this. Enjoying the time while it lasts. But you also noted, that Dean seemed somewhat intoxicated. You knew that you all felt the same way – guilty. You had failed.

You downed the rest of the scotch – it burned in your throat. You shook your head slightly and scrunched up your nose. Something he noticed, but didn’t mention directly. You refilled your glass.

“You don’t drink often, do you?”

He asked, his gaze following your movements carefully. As if he would miss something if he didn’t.

“I try to not make it a habit.”

He squinted his eyes at you. You were quick to add something to your sentence.

“I’m not really a fan of the hard stuff.”

You shrugged your shoulders, sitting back down and leaning your head back to let it rest against the cushion of the seat. You looked at him with your tilted head. Your legs were stretched out. No matter what you did, the stress that wore at you wouldn’t release itself from your body. You weren’t sure if maybe you should get up and move around or do something else altogether.

“Can you blame me?”

“Oh, no not really. It’s not like you surround yourself with people of class.”

He said, rather amused. You knew he was talking about the Winchesters and their tendency to stick to what they knew. Cheap beer, cheap hotels and even cheaper food. You bit your lip, an amused smile now too on your face. Maybe this truly was his way of flirting with you without getting another demon-killing knife attached to his hand. He wanted something from you – what he wanted, you weren’t sure of. It’s not like it would be useful for him to make a deal with you. Both of you wouldn’t be sticking around for another 10 years anyways.

You couldn’t deny that your tendency to remain neutral towards him had always been something you despised yourself for. You weren’t sympathetic towards him – but he wasn’t someone you actively watched out for. You knew that the Winchesters were aware of this, so they usually tried to keep you away from him.

His manipulation tactics never worked on you, but it’s not like you really held your guard up around him. To you – he was like Castiel. Someone who faded in and out of your daily life. You didn’t even bother seeking him out when he had been stuck in the bunker with you, in the dungeon. You just knew that ever since he saw you and interacted with you while Sam couldn’t do the dungeon duties, he was drawn to you. As if something about the fact that the brothers tried to desperately keep him away from you was urging him to spend as much time with you as possible.

He couldn’t give less of a fuck about the Winchesters. But if a demon even thought about pointing a knife towards you?

You ignored those memories. You noted that Dean had put on some music. A song you didn’t recognize. You shifted in your seat to look around the corner to see Crowley’s mother, whose name you never seemed to remember, and Chuck sitting at the long table and talking about nothing particular at all. You assumed that Chuck himself would just ignore what was happening. Like always.

Sam caught your eyes and nodded at you. All of you were so fucking unsure of what to do, how to react or how to feel. You assumed that maybe only the non-human beings in the room with you were somewhat okay with all of this. That they in the slightest, maybe didn’t even particularly care about the situation at hand.

Crowley hadn’t really bothered to continue the conversation, more than contempt to just sit next to you and listen in to what Dean was now saying. Not that he was saying anything important of course, but at least he was doing something. You weren’t sure why he had asked you to drink with him anyways. Maybe he just didn’t want to be alone. You were one of the few people in the room who wouldn’t turn him down, and he knew that.

Maybe he wanted something much different from you, but wasn’t sure how to voice it without making anybody around you suspicious of his intentions.

“If you want something from me you can just say it. I’m not really in the mood to care about consequences anyways.”

You chuckled into your glass, the ridiculousness of the situation feeling light-hearted on you. Maybe the alcohol helped just a little bit as well - to loosen you up. He once again looked you in the eyes.

“And here I thought I was so good at being subtle.”

Your expression was teasing – something he wasn’t used to seeing from you. The world was ending and you were flirting with the King of Hell. You couldn’t make that shit up.

“You used to be better at it.”