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#love on the rocks
wallacepolsom · 1 year
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Wallace Polsom, Sovereign of Transitory Things (2023), paper collage 22.3 x 32.6 cm.
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perplexedflower · 1 year
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Love On The Rocks - Chapter 1: Margarita
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Fandom: Supernatural.
Category: F/M.
Relationship: Crowley x Female Reader.
Type: 5-chapter fanfiction.
Summary: Being the King of Hell has its ups, but it also has its downs. And these downs lead Crowley straight into a bar, where he finds something far greater than just a glass of whisky: the love of its bartender, a young woman who is oblivious to the demon's nature. But one evening, he does not show up at the bar at his usual time, and his newfound love finds herself exposed unwillingly to everything that has been hiding under her nose this whole time…
Chronology: Season 10.
~~~~~~~~~~
That Sunday evening was quiet. But then again, so were most Sunday evenings. It was hard to do business when the dreaded Monday was right around the corner. Yet, it was paradoxically enough the very reason behind the few customers' presence. For the people who did show up at the bar those evenings, it was precisely because Monday was patiently waiting to drag them back into their weekly routines, whether they spent them sitting behind a desk in a boring cubicle or working their asses off under the sun or the cold. For these people, Sunday evenings down at the Golden Cross were their salvation; and I was happy to provide it to them.
I had been lucky enough to have effortlessly found a job I enjoyed when I had come to settle in town, a few years prior; although I was attached to the state capital of Kansas, in which I had been born and raised all my life, I had decided to leave it behind after certain unfortunate changes in my life and had headed South, for the county of Wichita. There, I had found a post as a bartender in a bar called the Golden Cross, which specialized in all things Scottish, from the drinks, the aesthetic, and the tunes on the jukebox. Now, I did not have the slightest experience of working as a bartender, but my motivation and interest in the job were enough to help me get it without too much difficulty: and, since Ed, the owner, had been kind enough to give me on-the-job training, I quickly came to enjoy it.
One other thing I also enjoyed was one of the perks that came out of it: a studio apartment. The bar occupied the first floor of a building that also included apartment rooms on the upper floors, and which were specifically rented by all the workers of the bar. The studio was not the most spacious, but given I lived alone, I did not mind much: there was enough room for one person, and that was just fine by me. And one of the reasons I liked it was because of how convenient it was for me: my workplace was only one floor below my bed, and though a setup such as this may have been seen as harrowing to some, it was highly practical for me and my work hours. I worked every evening, from 9 PM to 3 AM. And yes, that included Sundays.
That Sunday evening was quiet. So much so that when the front door was pushed open around 10:30, it caught my attention right away; but not as much as the gentle sound of short heels walking the ground that followed. I looked up from what I was doing to see a middle-aged man step into the bar and walk in my direction, the direction of the counter, behind which he sat in silence. Armed with my warmest smile, I walked up to him.
"Good evening, sir." I welcomed him while cleaning an empty glass I was holding. "What can I serve you on this lonely night?"
"Lonely indeed." He answered in a neutral tone, seemingly unfazed.
I smiled further upon hearing his accent.
"Oh, British." I said with slight enthusiasm.
Upon hearing my comment, the man smiled lightly and scoffed as he lowered his gaze for just a few seconds, before he looked back up at me.
"Do you serve Craig here?"
I tilted my head a little and stopped cleaning the glass in my hands.
"Glencraig whisky?" I asked with a chuckle. "Of course, we are a Scottish bar after all."
A faint smile appeared on his face as he slightly raised his eyebrows, after which he nodded and looked back down at his hands.
"Then I'll have one, thank you."
I was still smiling warmly at him when I gently tapped on the counter with the palm of my hand.
"Coming right up."
I walked a few steps away to go grab the bottle of whisky then came back in front of him, and I poured him a glass while we exchanged smiles. After having served him, I left him to himself and went back to my shift: although the bar was on a slow day, a few customers still showed up here and there, and so the man with the Craig was left to silently drink on his own as I kept on serving customers. However, at one point, not long after I had filled his glass, I could not help but notice him pull out his phone, which he set in front of him on the counter, and spend quite some time intensely staring at something on its screen. I did not dare approach him to ask him what he was doing precisely, so I did not move from where I was standing; the one rule I always tried my best not to break when working at the bar was to not come off as intrusive or rude to the customers. Besides, as its bartender, I knew better than anyone that many of them came to have a drink with the sole intent of drowning in their sorrow and forgetting about their problems.
He's just a drifter... One of many that wash up on the shore of our bar, I thought to myself. And whatever he's looking at on his phone must be linked to the reason why he decided to have a drink to begin with.
I stared at him for a minute longer, still lost in my thoughts.
Though, I do have to admit... For a drifter, he comes off as a very classy man.
Just as this remark crossed my mind, I saw him put his phone away and back in his coat pocket, which prompted me to initiate a conversation with him while I kept making drinks for other customers; I stood next to him as I grabbed various bottles, glasses, and shakers.
"Pardon me for asking, but what are you doing here?" I asked with a chuckle but genuine curiosity.
Up until I talked, he had been looking to the side, but the very second the first words I spoke came out of my mouth, he turned to look at me.
"I mean- I don't mean to be rude, but a business-looking fella like yourself doesn't really seem in his environment in a place like this."
He scoffed at my comment and closed his eyes for a brief second.
"It's true I'm not usually fond of bars." He said as he looked around him at the bar and its decorations. "But I've been hearing about this establishment of yours from..."
He marked a pause mid-sentence to exhale heavily through his nose, then pouted in an upset manner.
"... Business partners." He finally finished his sentence in a somewhat bitter tone. "So I'd been meaning to give it a try for some time now, and it just so happened I needed a drink tonight."
"Ah, I get the feeling." I told him with a smile. "And, soooo... How are you liking it here so far? Have the expectations you had of the bar been met? If you had any to begin with, that is."
The man looked around him once more, as if to fully analyze his environment, after which he brought his glass of whisky up to his lips.
"It's quite a decent pub you're running here, I think."
"Oh, I don't own the place." I awkwardly chuckled as I gestured my hands around. "But, thank you. It always makes me happy to know our customers are happy customers."
The smile I wore lifted upward on one corner of my mouth as I shrugged lightly with my eyebrows slightly raised.
"And, who knows... If you really do like it here, maybe you'll even see yourself becoming a regular." I joked. "Lord knows that'd be a blessing for business."
And to that, he scoffed and shook his head, then he swallowed the last drops of liquor that had been resting at the bottom of his glass.
"Yeah, who knows." He whispered almost inaudibly.
Now that his glass was empty, that his sorrow had been washed away, he got up from his stool and was ready to go back outside, out into the cold night that was surely waiting for his return; but before he did, he dived his hand into one of his coat pockets, and as he turned to me, he set on the counter a moderately generous tip.
"Good night." He told me in his low, deep voice.
"Thank you." I said, smiling brightly at him while my hand collected the money before me. "You have a good night as well."
And with that, the man in the suit headed for the front door, followed once more by the sound of his short heels walking the white and blue floor tiles; and he left the bar, which was still as quiet as when he had first stepped foot inside it.
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captastra · 1 year
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Love on the Rocks
Chapters: 9/? Fandom: The Outer Worlds (Video Game) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Female Captain/Felix Millstone, The Captain/Felix Millstone Characters: Female Captain (The Outer Worlds), Felix Millstone, Maximillian DeSoto, Parvati Holcomb, Ellie Fenhill, The Original Alex Hawthorne, The Outer Worlds Ensemble, Original Characters Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Felix deserved better so he's getting better here, Slow Burn, Slice of Life, they are all friends, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, lots of fluff, Miscommunication, so much it hurts, Mutual Pining, Tossball (The Outer Worlds), Romance Summary:
Rhea had never expected her life to end up like this, a bartender working for her brother. Felix had dreamed for more but accepted all his life would ever be is working for others instead of making his own path. Love was out of the question for both. But when Felix gets stuck needing a date for the Ranger's gala, Rhea agrees to help. As they navigate this new path, Rhea and Felix begin to learn the meaning of letting go and accepting new possibilities. Like discovering any new cocktail, sometimes the tried and true can withstand the test of time. And sometimes, discovering something new makes life and love worthwhile.
Chapter 9: Rhea is enjoying the chance to meet the important people in Felix's life and from them, she learns a surprise revelation. But her curiosity is cut short by new drama.
~
Somehow, someway I finally got the motivation to work on this again!! Art by @quasarden 💗
Taglist: @ghosttownwhispers @olliesaurus-rex @confidentandgood @incognito-insomniac @poisonedtruth @detectivelokis @roofgeese @seliviawanders @poetikat @bitchesofostwick​ (let me know if you wish to be added or removed!)
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scanbeans · 11 months
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Merry on the Rocks Special- Love on the Rocks ch. 1
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Hi beans! Love on the Rocks is a two chapter special! Pls enjoy and Japanese translators pls apply!!!
MangaDex Raws Discord
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mylooz · 1 year
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Love on the Rocks.
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noelledeltarune · 6 months
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EVERY SINGLE DAY there are MILLIONS of characters in their late 20s who get falsely accused of being father figures to teenagers when in reality the description of "weird older cousin" or "step-sibling that moved out before you were born" is 1000000x more apt
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asteroidtroglodyte · 9 months
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Move aside swagless boutta get a new Wizard’s Staff that comes loaded with spells like “open locked doors” and “dismantle car”
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feral-critter · 7 months
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Yes geologists! Doing the important work 💖
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s-lycopersicum · 5 months
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What the POST THIS NIJIKA enthusiasts don't want you to know is that this frame is followed by the cutest little bit of animation ever assembled by human hands.
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fleetshotter-minstrel · 3 months
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youtube
Definitely my favourite Neil Diamond song. …🙂
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alexanderpearce · 8 months
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whag if i want to (macquarie harbour july 23)
eta the maugean skate is extremely endangered and facing immediate extinction and the government is the damn fucking liberals and they will not do anything about it. idk what any random people from across the world can do about it but im screaming crying sobbing begging for help
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perplexedflower · 1 year
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Love On The Rocks - Chapter 5: Cosmopolitan
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Fandom: Supernatural.
Category: F/M.
Relationship: Crowley x Female Reader.
Type: 5-chapter fanfiction.
Summary: Being the King of Hell has its ups, but it also has its downs. And these downs lead Crowley straight into a bar, where he finds something far greater than just a glass of whisky: the love of its bartender, a young woman who is oblivious to the demon's nature. But one evening, he does not show up at the bar at his usual time, and his newfound love finds herself exposed unwillingly to everything that has been hiding under her nose this whole time…
Chronology: Season 10.
~~~~~~~~~~
The sound of a car engine running. Warmth. A weight. And a head-wrenching migraine. These were all the first things that caught my attention when I came to my senses.
Very slowly and without a sound, I opened my eyes with slight pain, only to be faced with darkness: I began to look around me without moving my head, but could not make out where I was exactly. Until I took into account the very first sound I had heard when I woke up.
I'm... in a car...?
And indeed, I was. I looked around me once more, this time with the knowledge of where I was, yet I was still not able to discern quite well what the shapes in front of me represented. And this was when I understood. This warmth, this sense of comfort, that I had been feeling since before I had even opened my eyes. It came from someone else; more precisely, from someone else's lap. Indeed, only then did I feel a certain support below my head, which made me realize it was comfortably resting on the legs of somebody and that I was lying down on my side, on what I assumed to be the backseat. My body, on top of which was laid a weight. Not a heavy, painful weight, but a soft and pleasant one. A coat, big and warm.
"Is she still out?"
A whispered voice was suddenly heard from the passenger seat, which pulled me out of my thoughts; then, I heard a faint sigh from just above my head.
"... Yes."
The voice was deep, soft, and calm: I opened my eyes wider in realization as all my thoughts came to connect with each other. I was lying down on Crowley, my head on his lap, and his coat covering my body. The moment I registered these facts, I instantly felt my body heat up and spread this heat all the way up to my face. I could not help but feel extremely shy, and a part of me desperately wanted to move, to hide away under his coat, but my body hurt too much for me to be able to move a single muscle; so, I remained immobile, his legs feeling heavier and heavier to me with every second passing as my cheeks burned up.
"... Well, she needs rest anyway, so it's for the best."
Once again, the voice of the man sitting in the passenger seat resonated throughout the car, but this time it was followed by some rustling sounds. The voice sounded even closer to me than it had done before and was full of reassurance.
"She's gonna be fine, don't worry Crowley."
"I'm not worried." He quickly replied in a voice that expressed no feelings.
"'Course you are." Yet another unfamiliar voice suddenly said with a playful tease.
Silence followed the words of the manly voice, which sounded as though it had come from the driver's seat, until it let out a low chuckle.
"You're worried for your little sweetheart, how adorable."
"Dean!" The man riding shotgun exclaimed while he tried to remain quiet, presumably addressing the driver.
I found myself even shyer as I lowered my gaze: whoever these two men in the car were, they knew Crowley, well enough to know about the two of us. Well enough to read through his words and behavior to be able to tell he had feelings for me. I struggled to remain silent at this sheer thought but nonetheless managed to simply close my eyes tight and gulp instead: I knew well it was wrong of me to pretend to still be asleep so that I could eavesdrop on the conversation going down in the car, but my curiosity was too strong, and I wanted to know what they all had to say about me, about him, about us.
Crowley was still silent, he still had not replied to the provocation the man named 'Dean' had thrown at him; but what I could hear from him was his breath, heavy and deep, and it soothed me into a sense of comfort, of security, which made me keep my eyes closed.
"So maybe I am." His voice suddenly spoke up above me. "... Is that so wrong of me?"
The inside of the car fell deadly quiet once more as the inside of my mind echoed loudly with the words he had just said. I had never seen nor heard him be so vulnerable, not even when he had been found bleeding to death on the ground after having been riddled with bullets. He had never shown weakness in front of me, except at that instant: when he was talking about me.
"... Does she know you're a demon?" The man riding shotgun suddenly asked.
A heavy atmosphere filled the space around me.
Yes... I do know, I thought to myself, and I don't care. It doesn't change my feelings for him and what I think of him.
Deep down, something wanted me to say these thoughts aloud, to speak up and let him know; but I did not dare.
"... I haven't told her myself." Crowley finally replied after a few seconds of silence. "But after everything she's been through tonight, after the time she spent with those demons... I'm sure she must have an idea of what's going on now."
I could hear a sense of guilt in his voice, which deeply saddened me.
"You're gonna have to give her the talk, Crowley." The passenger sighed as he spoke.
"Sam's right." Dean said shortly after. "She might not like what she'll hear, but you'll have to tell her. About yourself, about what's out there, about all of it. If you truly care about her, you'll tell her the truth."
A very delicate hand pressed itself against my arm, just below my shoulder, which was buried underneath the coat.
"I know." He whispered with bitterness.
And at the same time as I heard his voice, I could feel his eyes on me, staring down at me with tenderness. But before I could fully take in the moment, I realized the car was no longer moving: although the engine was still purring, the car had come to a stop.
"Alright, we're here." The man by the name of 'Sam' declared.
"Wait a minute... I knew the name 'Golden Cross' sounded familiar, I remember that bar."
The Golden Cross? We're at the bar?
"That's the Scotland-themed bar we stopped at for a drink the last time we were in town, when we worked that shapeshifter case."
Shape... shifter?
"And you're saying [Y/N] lives here?" Sam addressed Crowley as he spoke.
"She rents an apartment on the floor just above the bar."
He remembers...
I was touched to see he remembered something of this kind about my personal life, something I had told him about one night during one of our countless chats.
"You're sure you don't want us to take her back to the bunker?" Sam suddenly asked. "We could set her up in the infirmary or even in one of the spare rooms."
The hand resting on my arm gently pressed it with care.
"I'll take care of her." Crowley replied with affection and a hint of guilt. "I'm the one who has dragged her into all of this... She's my responsibility."
I could not help but furrow my eyebrows in sadness upon hearing him say this; he thought I was mad at him for everything that had happened, that I blamed him for it all, when it was far from being the case.
"Besides, she's probably going to be all shaken up when she wakes up, it's better for her to be in an environment she's familiar with."
"Alright then, we'll leave her to you." Sam said with an understanding tone. "Speaking of which, you should try waking her up now."
With those words, the delicate hand that had been set on my arm this whole time started to rub it, up and down, as it gave a few shakes.
Oh, that's my cue to 'wake up'. Okay, let's act it out...
I closed my eyes and groaned lightly as I moved around on Crowley's lap, pretending to wake up: I very slowly opened my eyes again and started to rise in a sitting position, when I suddenly felt both of my shoulders held on by a pair of strong hands. I slightly turned my head to the side and met with his eyes, warm and dark in the unlit car.
"Crowley..." I whispered with a short smile I could not suppress.
"Can you move?"
"Y-Yeah, don't worry."
Still holding my shoulders, he helped me up to sit straight while readjusting his coat around me.
"Alright, let's get you inside." He declared as he reached for the car door handle.
The door opened, exposing me to the cold night air, which made me cling tight to the thick coat wrapped around my body.
"Inside where?" I asked as I made my way out of the car.
I knew well where I was and where he was taking me, but I had to play my part and pretend to be unaware.
"Home."
As this word slipped through his lips, I found myself on the sidewalk, facing the Golden Cross standing proud in front of me.
It sure feels good to finally be back home.
As I looked up at the bar's front to which was attached a Scottish flag gently moving in the light breeze, I heard the sound of the car door closing behind me. When I turned around, I finally got the chance to get a good look at this car, black and sleek, before its engine roared; as it drove off into the distance, I suddenly felt a gentle hand against my lower back.
"Come on, let's head in."
I turned my head to my right at the gentle voice and saw Crowley starting to lead me into the building, to which I answered with a silent nod. We made our way to the side door, which he opened for me.
"Thank you." I told him while I smiled and blushed lightly.
Once on the other side, we were faced with a flight of stairs that led to the few apartment floors.
"First floor, right?"
"Yeah."
I started to walk towards the stairs, ready to put my foot on the first step, when he caught up to me and held me once more.
"Are you gonna be fine?"
I could not help but chuckle at his worried expression, though it also made my cheeks blush.
"I'm still capable of climbing stairs, you know."
With that, I began to go up the staircase, and he followed closely behind me. Once in front of the floor's door, I pushed it open and took a step inside the partially dimly-lit hallway; I led the way to my apartment door and once the two of us were standing in front of it, I reached for the handle and opened it to him. I turned to him with my arms open, to make him understand he was free to walk in, but I was surprised to see him wear a puzzled expression, mixed with one of slight shock.
"What?" I asked with a chuckle.
"You didn't... lock your door?"
Upon hearing his question, I chuckled once more.
"Oh, that's what you're curious about."
I looked around me, scanning the hallway with my eyes.
"Every room in this building, across all floors, is occupied by us, the people working at the Golden Cross." I told him as I pointed a finger at the doors of the other apartments. "From Ed, the owner, to the waiters, waitresses, and the other bartenders... We're all quite close to each other, and we know each other well. We've never really felt the need to be wary among ourselves, because we know none of us is the type to go breaking in into any of the others' apartments."
I beamed a smile at him as his confused expression eased up.
"Trust me, I've been living here for years now, and there's not been a single breaking and entering in this building."
With that, I walked into my apartment and he followed behind me, after which I closed the door behind him. The both of us walked into the living room, then stood still in the middle of the room, not speaking a word; I gulped as I felt my face turn a bit red.
"Hum... I suppose this is the first time you're seeing my place..." I said with awkwardness. "I'm sorry it has to be in such circumstances..."
I observed the room and felt ashamed to see some corners were a bit messy.
"I'm... also sorry it's such a mess."
Without daring to look at him, I made my way to the table, on which were multiple dirty glasses and some junk.
"Here, let me-"
But I did not get to finish my sentence: as I leaned forward to try and clean the table, my stomach unexpectedly started to ache with a strong pain, which made me fall knees first onto the floor.
"God-"
Before I even knew it, I found myself held tightly by Crowley's arms, supporting and securing me.
"Bloody hell-"
"I-I'm okay, don't worry."
I looked up into his eyes and could read worry within them.
"You shouldn't move around so much, you're still weak."
I lowered my eyes to the ground, not daring to look at him as he scolded me.
"S-Sorry."
Ever so slowly, he gently helped me to get back up as he held me close, before he brought me to the couch and set me down.
"You'll be much more comfortable here."
"Thanks..."
This whole situation felt strange to me, almost as though it was a dream: never would I have had imagined Crowley to be so gentle, so caring, so human. Underneath his calm and strong demeanor, he was actually hiding a soft, overprotective side of him.
"Do you have medical supplies?"
"Uh, yeah, in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom."
"Do not move from that sofa."
And with that order, he got up and took off to head to the bathroom; I listened to the slightly distant sound of his rummaging as I patiently remained seated and let myself sink deeper into the soft fabric and pillows, while also still wrapped in his warm coat. When he walked back into the living room, his hands were holding medical supplies of all kinds, which he set down on the table after having sat back on the couch in front of me.
"What treasures have you brought me?"
"Painkillers, for starters." He answered as he handed me a box.
I opened it and shook it down a little until two pills fell into my hand.
"Great, that should help with the pain of my... everything."
I threw them into my mouth and swallowed both of them in one go.
"I also got you antiseptic spray, cotton wool, and plasters for your open wounds."
"Wow, must be Christmas."
To finally be back at my apartment after everything that had happened to me eased my mind a lot and allowed me to unwind, enough for me to crack up a few jokes; but it seemed it was not the case for Crowley to laugh at them. When I looked into his eyes, I could read a mix of feelings I had trouble discerning fully.
"What's on your mind?"
He lowered his eyes a little, and by following his gaze, I understood he was staring at my arms.
"I need you to take off my coat so that I can inspect your arms."
I blushed lightly as I looked down at my shoulders.
"Oh- Hum, okay, no problem."
I didn't know he'd want to be the one to play doctor on me... This is going to be... interesting, to say the least.
I dived my hands into the pockets of the coat, ready to remove it from my shoulders, when something came in contact with my right hand: I furrowed my eyebrows as I pulled my hand back out, only to see my fingers holding my pocket knife. I opened both my mouth and my eyes in pleasant surprise, before my expression softened to turn into a more gentle one: I looked up into his eyes with thankfulness and affection as my cheeks turned a shade of pink.
"You held onto it... Thank you."
He silently stared back into my eyes, his gaze expressing extreme tenderness, and his lips curved into a faint smile. I set the pocket knife down on the living room table beside me, after which I grabbed hold of his coat by the collar with both hands and lifted it from my shoulders, before I let it fall gently behind me on the couch. With the coat out of the way, my arms were now exposed, and only then did I realize I was no longer wearing my jacket: I assumed it must have been taken off of me at one point during the past couple of hours, and I guessed this was precisely why Crowley had put his coat over me in the first place, so that my body could be protected and that I would not get cold.
I was so lost in thought that I almost did not feel the warm palm of his hand on my left forearm, holding it delicately. He began to rotate it slowly while he thoroughly scanned it up and down, before he moved over to the other arm; but as he repeated the same silent procedure on my right arm, he suddenly stopped turning my limb around, yet without letting go of it. At the same moment as I felt his grip loosen, I looked up at him, only to see that his gaze was focused on my wrist, its surface purple and bruised. Even I had not noticed these marks, and yet both of my wrists were in the same damaged state. When I looked back at his face, I saw deep sorrow in his eyes and that his eyebrows were furrowed. Ever so gently, he progressively loosened his grip and began to caress the surface of my skin with his thumb; the contact of his touch relaxed me greatly, yet it also aroused me - in both senses of the term. Neither of us spoke, but our silence was louder than words: we did not need to speak to express our affection towards one another, warm touches and shy gazes sufficed.
Eventually, however, a thought pulled him out of his reverie and made him let go of my wrist, before he retracted his hand and cleared his throat while he looked to the side.
"Your arms are fine, but not your hands." He told me as he reached for the bottle of antiseptic spray and the cotton. "There are a couple of spots that need to be taken care of."
I nodded in silence before I presented my hands to him with a smile.
"I'll let you work your magic, then."
He grabbed my left hand by the back, opened my palm fully, then sprayed it with the antiseptic a couple of times. As he grabbed a piece of cotton and began to gently dab it against my skin, he sighed calmly.
"... How are you feeling, [Y/N]?" He asked me as he looked into my eyes.
I looked back into his eyes with a short smile.
"Oh, y'know..." I started while I shrugged lightly. "It's 2 in the morning and I'm sitting on my living room couch while the King of Hell is taking care of me. So, I'd say I'm feeling alright."
His hand suddenly stopped moving and his eyes opened wide with surprise: I was still staring into them and smiling warmly at him when I scoffed gently.
"Yeah, I know. About you."
Upon hearing my words, Crowley diverted his eyes from me to instead look down at my hand.
"The demons who kidnapped me told me."
In silence, and while his gaze was still lowered, he went back to working on my hand, pressing the cotton against my skin.
"They told me about... demons, themselves, you."
He turned my hand around and began to spray antiseptic on its back.
"More precisely, that you rule over Hell." I added with a chuckle I could not contain.
I stared at his hand, carefully disinfecting the open wounds of my fingers, then looked up at his face: with a tender smile, I tilted my head.
"Crowley..."
But my attempt to make him look at me failed, and he remained focused on silently covering my wounds with Band-Aids. I sighed heavily as I watched him wrap the base of my index finger.
"Crowley... You kept it a secret from me. But I can't blame you for it." I said while I shook my head. "Sure, presenting the status of King of Hell to a woman may increase your chances to take her back home at the end of the night - I know it would've worked on me -, but... it's not something I'd find easy to say... especially to someone who means a lot to me."
Before his hand could reach for another Band-Aid, I intercepted it and held his fingers into my palm, which finally made him look at me.
"I'm not angry at you, Crowley. I don't blame you, for anything that has happened. So, please, don't blame yourself."
We stared at each other for some time, until he looked away from me, which caused me to let go of his hand and allowed him to place one last Band-Aid on the back of my left hand; as he did so, a sigh escaped his lips.
"It's not just demons, [Y/N]. It's Hellhounds, angels, gods... The world is full of creatures and monsters beyond your imagination."
I tilted my head slightly at the same time as he grabbed my right hand to repeat the same procedure as the one he had done on my left.
"When I was held captive in that shack, I asked myself: 'If demons do exist, then what else is out there? What other monsters are lurking in the shadows?'" I said as I scoffed and slowly shook my head. "Evil monsters, like those demons who kidnapped me and beat me up just for kicks."
Silence followed, but it was soon broken by a sigh from him.
"The demon who orchestrated this whole bloody thing and who led the group that captured you was Foras."
I was somewhat surprised to see Crowley knew his name.
"Did you know him?"
He scoffed as he looked up into my eyes, an eyebrow raised.
"I'm the King of Hell, darling. I know my subjects."
A part of me felt impressed by his words, yet the only one my brain remained stuck on was 'darling', that same nickname he had already called me: and hearing it made my heart flutter, just as strongly as the first time.
"Not that it means anything to you, but Foras was an avid Abaddon loyalist." He continued as he finished taking care of my right hand. "And so were the other demons who had joined him."
He looked down for a second, after which he let go of my hand and got up from the sofa: I was too busy staring at him walk into the open kitchen to realize both of my hands had now been tended to.
"I should have known they were up to something..." He said in a soft-spoken voice while he stopped in front of the refrigerator. "I knew somebody down there was plotting behind my back."
I tilted my head slightly and furrowed my eyebrows while he opened the freezer compartment of the fridge.
"... Abaddon?"
My eyes finally found his as he turned around and came back to me with an ice pack in hand.
"That demon- Foras... He mentioned her."
Crowley sat back down on the couch, next to me, and silently handed me the ice pack.
"But, who is she?" I asked him as I took it from his hands. "He said he wanted you to suffer for what you did to her."
The ice felt cold in my hands, yet I held it tight as I stared into his eyes with light nervousness.
"... What did you do to her?"
He stared back into my eyes, but unlike mine, his showed no sign of worry: to my surprise, he even let his body relax on the sofa and casually leaned against a few pillows.
"Abaddon was a Knight of Hell. She was killed, not that long ago. Not by my hand, but I provided help to the one who did."
I nodded in silence as I stared down at the ice pack in my hands.
"Does it... have anything to do with a 'First Blade'?" I hesitantly looked up at his face as I asked my question. "Oooor a 'Dean Winchester'?"
He seemed rather surprised to see I knew of all this, but quickly came to close his eyes while he scoffed when he understood it was yet again Foras who had told me about it.
"Both."
I recalled the car drive from earlier and the conversation Crowley had had with the two men, before I cleared my throat.
"And this Dean... Would he happen to be one of the two guys who were with you when you rescued me?"
Yet again, the surprise was visible on his face, which made me understand my assumption was correct.
"Call it an educated guess..." I said with a light shrug while I blushed.
He scoffed once more, a gentle smile shaping his lips, then he sunk deeper into the fabric of the couch before he sighed softly.
"My two companions were indeed the Winchester brothers, Sam and Dean. They're hunters, and as such, it's their job to exterminate all things supernatural."
I listened to him in silence and with attention as I lifted my t-shirt just a few inches to make way for my hand holding the ice pack, which I pressed against my bruised, aching stomach, and the cold feeling against my bare skin made me shiver.
"After you were abducted back at the hotel, I called them for help. We're not exactly on the best of terms... but I was weakened, and they were the only ones I could contact if I wanted a chance to find you, so I had no other choice than to rely on them. I enticed them into accepting by telling them that making the trip would reward them with a handful of demons they could kill, and with the promise that I would be in their debt. Fortunately, they were already on the road when I got in touch with them, so it didn't take them long to join me in my search for you. After some time, we finally managed to locate you, and came up with a plan to break you out. Well- I came up with a plan, but Moose and Squirrel were too eager to go in guns blazing..."
Crowley marked a short pause in his story, a couple of seconds during which he looked through the window on the wall behind me.
"After it was all over, they offered to drive you someplace safe, so I gave them the bar's address."
I thought once again of the car drive, of my head comfortably resting on his warm lap, and felt my cheeks blush.
"I knew you'd want to be in a familiar place after this nightmare, and I knew I could take care of you here."
My cheeks were still covered with blush as I looked into his eyes: if anything, they turned even pinker.
"Thank you... for everything, Crowley."
My shy smile however diminished as I began to nibble on my lower lip.
"But, these Sam and Dean..." I started as I slowly shook my head. "They really did save my life back there. I'll also have to thank them... if I ever cross paths with them again, that is."
"Well, you can always drive to their bunker, it's not far from here." He said while he rested one of his elbows on a pillow.
"Bunker?"
"About... 3 hours, I'd say."
I tilted my head at him.
"Do they happen to live in the state?"
"Hmm hm, Lebanon." He answered with a very slow nod.
I raised my eyebrows a little and opened my mouth slightly, before I too started to nod slowly.
"Huh. Well, that's good to know."
Then silence settled between us two; not a heavy, uneasy silence. A peaceful silence, full of comfort, and which reigned over the room. I took this time to look down at my stomach, which was no longer hurting me as much as it first did, and so brought my hand out from underneath my t-shirt; the ice pack in my hand had warmed up, but it still remained quite cold to the touch. I turned to the table next to me and gently put it down on it. And when I looked back up in front of me, at Crowley, my eyes instantly met with his.
Has he... been staring at me for long? I blushed as I asked myself.
But as I only then started to lose myself in his shining hazel eyes, they looked away from me to focus on the living room table instead.
"I still have to take care of the wounds on your face." He stated while he reached for the cotton and the bottle of antiseptic spray. "You don't mind, do you?"
He asked me his question while he stared right back into my eyes once more, which made me gulp lightly.
"... No, not at all."
"Good."
With both medical supplies now in hand, he moved even closer to me and straightened his back, adopting a more proper position than the one he had been in for the past dozen minutes. His face was close to mine, so close, closer than it had ever been, and I felt as though my cheeks went up in flames; but what really made my heart race, more even than sitting so close to him was the touch of his hand on my skin. His warm palm, his delicate fingers against my face. I felt so overwhelmed by my emotions that for a moment, I forgot to breathe; and when I finally released my breath, I looked down at my lap for a few seconds, to clear my mind and not lose myself in my thoughts. The cold sensation of the antiseptic spray helped me pull myself together and calm down, and after I did, I gathered the courage to look back at him.
"... Crowley...? Can I ask you something?"
"Hmm hm?"
He answered me without looking directly into my eyes, too focused on gently dabbing a piece of cotton on the left side of my jawline.
"Were you human before you were a demon?"
"Yes. All demons are human souls who have gone to Hell and been demonized there. With... a few exceptions to the rule."
I looked into his eyes as he applied a Band-Aid over my jawline.
"... Do you miss it? Being human?"
His hands stopped moving for a second, his fingers still on my skin, but they soon let go of my face to grab hold of the bottle of antiseptic spray again; and during this short second, his eyes looked into mine with a bittersweet gaze.
"No." He answered me while he sprayed my right cheek. "I've been a demon for so long, I can't recall a time I wasn't one."
I could tell he was lying, I could feel it, and it deeply saddened me; but I could also feel that he did not want to go deeper into the topic, so I decided to orient the conversation in another direction.
"Really? So, if you've been a demon for a long time... How old are you really, then?"
"Just as a demon, or including my human years as well?"
"Both."
Though his hand kept moving against my cheek, his lips had stopped; he quietly muttered to himself for a couple of seconds, seemingly doing the math in his mind.
"300... and 54."
I leaned back slightly while my eyes and mouth opened wide, my lips shaped into a crooked smile.
"... You're 354 years old?"
I looked at him with astonishment before I started to chuckle.
"I know I've got a thing for older men, but that, that's just..." I said as I scoffed and shook my head.
Upon hearing my words, he scoffed as well and looked at me with a gaze expressing such strong, powerful emotions that I could not look away from him.
"... You truly are one of a kind, Mr. Crowley." The words escaped my lips as I smiled sincerely at him.
Before my face reddened too much from maintaining eye contact with him, a thought crossed my mind and pulled me out of my dreamy state of mind.
"Say, speaking of which..." I started with my head slightly tilted. "That name, 'Crowley', has it always been yours? Was that already your name back when you were human?"
I almost regretted having asked him my question, as it made him lower his eyes from me.
"No, I started to go by 'Crowley' when I became a demon." He replied after a couple of seconds of silence. "I had a human name before that."
He left his sentence to hang, as if he was unsure as to whether or not to tell me about it, but the tender look I gave him made him understand he could say it without being judged in any way by me.
"... 'Fergus'."
"Huh." I let out with my mouth slightly open. "That's original. And it does sound quite old."
I was still staring straight at him, straight at his face, still so close to mine, and my lips curved into a short yet affectionate smile.
"But... I like 'Crowley' better."
And there it was again: that emotion in his eyes, so strong, which made my heart flutter every time I saw it. Thankfully for my heart, he soon stopped to look at me, at the same time as his hands left my face. I was about to ask him if he had finished tending to me when I saw him pull one more Band-Aid out of the box, before he closed it, for what I assumed to be the last wound on my face; and so, I decided to ask him another question.
"And, this Fergus, how did he die?" I asked him nonchalantly.
"Really? That's what you wanna know about?"
"What?" I said with a smile as I shrugged. "I just wanna pay my condolences."
A heavy silence filled the room; silence I had not expected. Silence I would have preferred not to be surrounded by. Silence that made me understand I had gone too far with my questions.
"... Trust me, the old me is better off dead."
There was no animosity in his voice, no anger nor disdain: yet his tone was still heavy, carrying buried emotions and past memories. I remained silent as his hands found their way back to my face, this time on my forehead, which actually felt painful to the touch: Foras and the other demons that were with him had given me quite a beating, and the stinging sensation I had felt on my head when they had knocked me out the first time around was still a hurting memory to me. But I did not tell Crowley it was hurting me. In fact, I was not even looking at him anymore; my eyes were lowered to my lap, on which rested my clenched fingers, intertwined with each other. I felt ashamed of myself, ashamed to have created this tension between the two of us, when all I wanted was to learn more about him, to get to know him better.
Neither of us had yet said a word when his fingers gently pressed a Band-Aid on my forehead, before they left my face; this time, for good. Or, at least, that was what I thought, until I saw him pick up the ice pack from the table. Pick it up, and carefully bring it over to my neck: the second the ice came in contact with my skin, I briefly inhaled through my mouth, the cold sensation spreading goosebumps all over my body. But what made my breath even shakier was to see his face so close to mine, even closer than before, to the point where I could look nowhere else than into his eyes. And his eyes were beautiful at that instant: radiant, affectionate, loving. The ice pack sliding from one side of my neck over to another may have felt cold, but the look in his eyes was enough to warm me up, even to make my entire soul vibrate.
The apartment was still silent, but this silence was no longer heavy: at least, not in the same way as it first had been. Nostalgia and guilt had been replaced with love and desire. A desire I had been feeling for long, before that very moment, and which I could no longer contain. Without a word or warning, I suddenly leaned forward and made my lips come in contact with his: I closed my eyes with a sigh as one of my hands found its way to his lap, and as the other rested on his shoulder. When I opened them again after having slowly pulled away, our faces were still only inches close from one another, so much so that I could feel my breath bounce off his skin. I looked at his lips for a few seconds, soft to the touch and of an irresistible taste, before I looked up into his eyes.
"Sorry." I whispered very quietly.
His eyes stared back into mine with a burning passion, and as the cold sensation on my neck came to fade out, I felt that passion against my lips, as he kissed me back, giving me a taste of Heaven for the second time. A second time, even more passionate, lasting even longer; I cupped both of his cheeks with my hands as his quickly found their way to my waist, moving and twisting along the rhythm of his lips. My fingers lovingly ran their nails through his beard, which felt so soft against my skin, yet so scorching at the same time. Every fiber of my being prayed for this moment to last, for all eternity, for it to never end, and that was precisely when his lips slowly parted with mine, leaving me with the feeling of wanting more. Similarly to the way I had kissed him, his face remained extremely close to mine, even after having pulled away from our kiss. As his hands delicately grabbed my face by the chin in between two of his fingers, his eyes interlocked with mine.
"It's alright, love." He whispered back against my lips.
My lips, which curved into a shy, tender smile, and which also took shape on Crowley's face: and as I felt my cheeks burn up, I let my hands slide down from his face to his chest, on which I rested my head. He took me into his arms, circling my body, and adjusted his position on the sofa, allowing for the both of us to lie comfortably against one another. As I snuggled against him, he started to run a hand through my hair, stroking it every so gently. And I shyly smiled once more.
"I love you, Crowley. I'm sorry it took so long for it to come out, and for the two of us to get to this point. Especially under the current circumstances."
He remained quiet, though his hand still caressed my scalp.
"I love you too, [Y/N]." He finally declared after a few seconds of silence.
I could tell by the slightly unsteady tone of his voice that this was the first time he had ever said those words to someone, and that he had meant them; I smiled warmly as I quietly scoffed to myself, then buried my face deeper into the crook of his neck. For the following minutes, peace and serenity reigned in the room, the two of us exchanging no words and only love-filled touches.
"... Crowley?" My voice spoke up softly, breaking the silence.
"Yes, dear?"
"Will you stay with me tonight? I... I'd really like your company for the night."
I began to trace lines and shapes with the tip of my index finger on the fabric of his tie, failing at hiding my slight nervousness.
"I know my bed is surely not as luxurious as your literal King-sized bed, your Majesty, but-"
"I don't own a bed." He cut me off mid-sentence. "Demons don't sleep."
"Oh..."
Perhaps it was because he sensed the defeat in my voice, but he followed his sentence with a gentle scoff; he put his hand back on the top of my head, but this time to make me look up at him. And when I did, I saw the tender smile that adorned his face.
"But 'don't' doesn't mean 'can't'. I've slept... well, never. But because I've never needed to."
A shine appeared in his eyes as he caressed my cheek.
"But if you're here, then it's different. If I have you to sleep by my side, then I'll join you every night."
The corners of my mouth lifted upward into a loving smile as I put my hand over his, still resting on my cheek, and ever so gently, I made my lips meet his in a kiss filled with future promises. A kiss, which was just one of many more to come.
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captastra · 2 years
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Next chapter is up!! Just in time for @creativesolstice​ and art by @quasarden​!
Summary: Rhea tries her best to step up as Felix comes face to face with his ex-girlfriend, Minnie and help him enjoy their night at the gala on their fake date. Then comes the true test of the night, meeting Felix's co-workers. First up, MacRedd and Sanita!
Taglist: @ghosttownwhispers​
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spilladabalia · 7 months
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Lama - Love On The Rocks
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callileonn · 11 months
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hyrule’s favourite horsegirl <3
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