Summary: Crowley mucked up last night for you. Are you ready to forgive him just yet?
Author’s Notes: You’ll want to read Part 1 before diving into this one!
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After walking down the road to the liquor store, you got your whiskey of choice, Southern Comfort. Crowley always likes to pick on you about it, saying it was too sweet to be a whiskey. You always retorted that it’s just sweet enough to match your personality.
Goddamn it. Why are you thinking of Crowley? Just get back to your room. That lowball isn’t holding scotch tonight, that’s for damn sure.
After about 20 minutes, you finally arrived at the motel. While you were still upset about your bar experience and lack of sex, the walk helped get rid of a lot of the anger and even some of the stress. Take the win.
Closing the door behind you, you lean back against it, a sigh of relief leaving you as you’re now away from everything. Surely, there won’t be anything to stress you out here. This motel has premium cable, you remember. The perfect way to ignore the thoughts of tonight’s events is to find an easy comedy to distract yourself for a few hours.
For anyone interested in a friends to lovers reader insert with Crowley from Supernatural, I got you!
This is my first ever fanfic! Crowley deserved better and I don’t think I’ll ever be over it. You will see italicized words and sentences. These are the internal thoughts of the reader.
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Author Notes:
You’ve been working closely with Crowley for over a year. Despite your best efforts, you find yourself falling him.
One night while celebrating with all 4 members of Team Free Will, you decide to find a little bedroom fun from the bar. That is, until Crowley ruins it for you. Can he get back in your good graces?
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The hunt had been quick and mostly painless. For the first time in ages, you couldn’t complain too much. The Winchesters felt like this was a good time as any to celebrate. Had they been anyone else, you wouldn’t have trusted them enough to go to the bar. But as life would have it, you’ve worked with them on cases in the deep south for the past 6 years.
Sitting at the bar, you think back to the early days of working together. Along with working with the Winchester men, you often found yourself teamed up with their friend Castiel. The most surprising of all was when they introduced you to Crowley. The moment they uttered “King of Hell,” your mouth dropped in disbelief. Before you started asking questions, Dean already started his spiel.
“Hey, look, I’m cool with it. Really,” you soothed their collective anxiety. Dean, Sam, Cas, and Crowley all stared in confusion at you. You shrugged. “What? You have a reason for working with him, right? And from what I gather, y'all have been doing it for years. Y'all have taken on Lilith and won. You’ve been in the damn middle of a gods’ conference and survived. Not to shortchange Crowley here,” you nodded an acknowledgment towards the demon, “but dollars to donuts you could have ended him many times over and you haven’t. On top of that, I believe y'all wouldn’t let us meet each other if you thought he’d try to harm me anytime soon. So when I say I’m cool with it, I am. Because I trust both of y'all.”
Crowley briefly appraised you before a quick raise of his eyebrows and a small smirk. “Oh, I think I like her. She’s actually intelligent. Although, she is wrong in thinking either of you could’ve taken my life. Nevertheless, I’m surprised you three don’t work with her more.”
You required extra help over the past eighteen months from the Winchester boys after an uptick of cases in the Southeast. Occasionally, they wouldn’t be able to make it down from the Midwest with their own sets of problems. They gave you Crowley’s number after they couldn’t get in touch with Cas. Sure beats trying to get all the necessary ingredients to summon him the old fashioned way.
The phone rang and rang. You were about to hang up and prepare your bags for another solo hunt. “What?!” an agitated voice bellowed as you heard a man whimpering in the background.
