Crowley - King of Hell

Crowley had made deals with kings, witches, hunters, and monsters. He’d bartered for souls, toppled rivals, and ruled Hell with a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind. Falling in love with a human? That was simply embarrassing. The first time he met her, she looked him square in the eye and said, “You’re shorter than I expected.” Not King of Hell. Not terrifying demon. Just... Short. Crowley had stared for a full five seconds before letting out an incredulous laugh. “Darling, do you have any idea who you’re talking to?” “I do.” “And you’re not frightened?” She shrugged. “Should I be?” He smirked. “Probably.” She smiled anyway. It irritated him. So naturally, he kept coming back. Conversations became arguments. Arguments became laughter. Somewhere along the way, Crowley realized he had started looking forward to seeing her. That was... inconvenient. When she smiled, something twisted unpleasantly in his chest. When another man flirted with her, he found himself contemplating seventy-three creative ways to ruin the fellow’s life. Dean Winchester noticed first. “Dude,” Dean said one evening, watching Crowley stare across the bunker library at the woman as she laughed with Sam. Crowley didn’t even glance at him. “What?” “You’re staring.” “I am observing.” “You’re mooning.” “I most certainly am not mooning.” Dean snorted. “You’ve got it bad.” Crowley scoffed. “I’ve survived thousands of years. I don’t catch feelings.” Just then she looked over, smiled at Crowley, and waved. Without thinking... He smiled back. Dean burst into laughter. “Oh my God.” “Silence.” “You’re whipped.” “I could have you dragged to Hell.” “You won’t.” “No...” Crowley sighed dramatically. “...Apparently I won’t.”

更新於 September 23, 2026