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An Unarranged Marriage

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Warnings: Unintentional bonding/marriage (if that needs a warning), possessive!Crowley, language, virgin!Reader, smut, oral

Fic:

“Now all we need is virgin hair,” Sam announces, reading off the list of ingredients for the spell.

“Well, you don’t have to look far,” you say. Reaching for a knife, you cut off a piece and hand it to Sam. He takes the hair from you without comment and adds it to the bowl.

“Now what?” Dean asks.

“All it says is ‘Add the hair, burn the contents of the bowl, and chant the following incantation to summon the demon and bind them forever,’” Sam says, reading the spell book.

“Then hurry up and do it,” Dean encourages, “I can’t wait to get rid of this son of a bitch for good.” Unlike Sam and Dean, you didn’t dislike Crowley all that much. Sure he could get on your nerves, but you liked his flirty comments and sarcastic personality. Even though you would never admit it, you kinda felt bad about locking him away forever in some dark place in Hell.

Sam lights a match and tosses it into the bowl, the smell of your burning hair combining with the smell of burning sage and other herbs. He reads the incantation, his Latin impeccable, and in a puff of smoke Crowley appears.

“What the bloody Hell do you want this time?” Crowley asks angrily.

“I don’t think it worked,” Sam whispers to Dean.

“Well?” Crowley prompts, “Tick-tock, I’m waiting.”

“I did everything right,” Sam says, frantically rereading the text, “I don’t understand what went wrong.”

“What the - Ah!” Crowley’s thoughts interrupted by a yelp. You scream at the same time. It felt like your whole arm was on fire. The pain starts around your ring finger, trails up your hand, around your wrist, and loops up your arm three times before ending at your shoulder. In a panic, you pull your jacket from you and throw it to the floor, desperate to make the pain stop. You pull your flannel shirt from you, leaving you in only a tank top.

The skin of your arm burns bright red as an image appears. A chain wraps around your ring finger and slithers up the back of your hand before wrapping around your wrist and twisting its way up your arm. You scream not only in pain, but in terror as well. Dean rushes to you, trying to figure out what was going on, but he was at a loss as well.

“You bloody morons,” Crowley growls as your pain subsides. He cradles his left arm the same way you cradle yours. “Do you have any clue what you just did?” he asks.

“Something went wrong,” Sam says, “The spell was supposed to lock you away.”

“Is that exactly what the description said?” Crowley asks as if he already knew the answer.

“The spell says it summons the demon and binds them forever,” Sam says, unsure of what else to say.

“Dim witted fool” Crowley spits, “Any witch with half a brain could’ve told you what the spell was really for. You used virgin hair didn’t you? And from Y/N’s screams, I suspect it’s hers. You chanted the spell to summon the demon, me, and bind them, the demon and the virgin, forever.” Crowley gestures between himself and you.

“What are you saying?” you ask timidly.

“Your friends just made you mine,” Crowley tells you.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, the blood draining from your face.

“They bound us together in holy matrimony,” Crowley tells you, “Or rather quite unholy.”

“No,” Dean says, “He’s lying.”

“And why would I lie about a thing like that?” Crowley asks nonchalantly.

“Because you’re an evil, manipulative bastard, that’s why,” Dean shouts back.

“Now now Y/N,” Crowley chides, “Are you really going to let your little boy toy talk to your husband like that?”

“You’re not my husband,” you growl, “I never agreed to this.”

“Oh Darling, you agreed the moment you gave moose that lock of hair,” Crowley informs you, “If anyone was left out of the loop, it was me. I simply arrived here to find I had a wife waiting for me. How do you think I feel?”

“Well if you hate it so much, then tell me how to undo it,” you demand.

“There is no undoing it,” Crowley tells you, “What don’t you understand about ‘bind them forever?’”

“There has to be something we can do,” Dean says, “Y/N can’t be bonded to you.”

“And why is that?” Crowley asks.

“Because you’re a demon,” Dean shouts.

“Have you forgotten that you were a demon yourself once?” Crowley asks, “Besides, you only have yourselves to blame. I had nothing to do with the mess you’ve made.”

“So what do we do?” you ask.

“Excuse me boys, but I need to talk to my wife alone,” Crowley states. Sam and Dean shout for him to wait, but Crowley’s already snapped his fingers and transported you to another room. You stumble as the world stops turning and Crowley catches you.

“Where are we?” you ask, looking around at the dimly lit room.

“Home,” Crowley says, making sure you’re steady before letting you go.

“Are you kidnapping me?” you ask, only half joking.

“If you call a man taking his wife home after their wedding a kidnapping, then yes, I suppose I have kidnapped you,” Crowley responds.

“Stop saying that,” you demand, “I’m not your wife.”

“The tattoos around our arms say otherwise,” Crowley says, holding up his hand so that you can see the chain slithering up the back of his hand and disappearing beneath his sleeve.

“So you’re just going to keep me here like a prisoner?” you ask.

“You’re no prisoner,” Crowley answers, “As my wife, you’re free to come and go as you please. That being said, you are my wife, and you are mine.”

“I don’t belong to you or anyone else for that matter,” you retort. Crowley just chuckles. “I hate you,” you spit spitefully.

“Make yourself comfortable Love,” Crowley says, “Like it or not, this is your home now.” Crowley snaps and leaves the room, leaving you on your own. In a huff, you cross your arms and plop down on the bed. This could’ve gone a lot smoother and maybe that was partly your fault, but Crowley didn’t have to be such a jerk about the situation. He wasn’t the only one forced into this.

***

You hadn’t seen Crowley in days, but he made sure you were well taken care of. There was nothing you wanted for. In the days you had alone, you explored Crowley’s mansion of a home. Each closed door revealed something different behind it, whether it be the library or the music room. Tonight, when you return to your room for the evening, you find a gift waiting for you. A beautiful emerald green dress is spread out across your bed, a note scribed in flawless handwriting next to it.

Dear Y/N,

I would like to treat you to dinner tonight. If you feel so inclined, please join me in the dining room at 6:00pm; and do wear the dress.

~ Crowley

The more you thought about him, the more attached to Crowley you seemed to become. Maybe being bound to him was changing your perception. You didn’t love him exactly, but you didn’t exactly hate him either; maybe you just didn’t know him well enough. Your mind races as you run your fingers along the silky material of the dress as you try to decide what to do. Finally, you decide to put on the dress and it fits like a dream. You make your way to the dining room and find the table lined with food, two giant candelabras lighting the table, but Crowley isn’t there.

“Hello Darling, you look stunning,” Crowley says from behind you, making your hunter’s instincts kick in. You turn, your hand raised until Crowley catches your wrist. “It’s nice to see you too Love,” Crowley quips.

“Sorry,” you apologize, “You startled me.” Crowley smirks before letting your wrist go. “So, why am I here?” you ask.

“Is it a crime for a man to want to see his wife?” Crowley asks as he takes his seat at the end of the table.

“I suppose not,” you answer, taking your seat across from him.

“I’ll admit that I wanted to see you,” Crowley says, “I am bonded to you after all. After a few days to think, I had hoped your feelings towards me had changed. If they haven’t then stop me now.” You don’t stop him. “If, however, your feelings have changed,” Crowley continues, “I would like to get to know you better.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, “For the things I said. When I said I hated you, I didn’t really mean it.”

“No?” Crowley asks. He actually looks surprised.

“I guess it’s more of a mutual dislike,” you say with a small smile.

“Not quite so mutual,” Crowley disagrees, “As much as I like to pretend, I can’t deny that you hold a special place in my blackened heart.”

“Aren’t you sweet,” you laugh.

“Never said I wasn’t,” he answers. Crowley smiles, tipping his tumbler at you before taking a sip of bourbon. “I’d like to know,” Crowley begins, “How do you actually feel about being bonded to me?”

“To be honest, I don’t really know what it means,” you say, pushing your food around your plate with your fork.

“The spell has mostly fallen by the wayside,” Crowley tells you, “In the past, it was used to corrupt the purest of souls in order to keep the angels from getting their grubby little hands on them. The virgins always knew what they were getting into of course, in order for the spell to work, the virgin had to willingly include themselves in the spell.”

“Do you plan on corrupting me?” you ask.

“Only if you ask me to Love,” Crowley answers, “Anyway, the spell fell out of favor when we realized it not only attached the human to the demon, but attached the demon to the human as well. Ever since the moment we bonded, I could feel it. I’m not sure if the spell has affected you in the same way, but I want nothing more than to have you in every way possible, if you find that agreeable of course.”

His words make your stomach flutter. “Y-you actually want me?” you ask.

“Yes,” Crowley answers simply, “After we bonded, I felt like I belonged to you, though I didn’t say it. I couldn’t have the Winchesters mocking me for it. I felt so attached to you that I lied about there not being a spell to break the bond.“

"I’m sorry, but you wanted to stay attached to me?” you ask, “I thought you weren’t fond of feelings.”

“Yes, well, perhaps I didn’t mind belonging to you,” Crowley says, “Though had it been anyone else, I’d have broken the bond immediately.”

“Flattering,” you say with a smile.

“I’d understand if you want to break the bond,” Crowley says, “I don’t expect you to love me or even care for me, but if you’re willing, I’d like you to stay.”

“And be what exactly?” you ask.

“Anything you wish to be Love,” Crowley answers, “A housemate, a companion, a lover, a wife, a queen; it’s up to you really. I just want you to stay with me in any way you’re willing.”

“I’ll stay,” you answer after a long pause, “For now, but I reserve the right to change my mind in the future.”

“I can respect that,” Crowley says, “But I hope I can change your opinion of me for the better.”

***

Over the next two months, you begin to grow closer to Crowley. He invites you to dinner each night, leaving you a gift each time; anything from a new dress, to shoes, to a piece of jewelry. The gifts didn’t even matter, for some reason all you wanted was to be near him. Some nights you don’t speak very much, but you’ll catch him watching you from time to time. Other nights, he tells you of his past, telling you things you were sure he’d never told anyone else. Still other nights, he’ll coax you into telling your life story. Telling him your secrets comes so naturally. You knew every word that came out of your mouth was something he could hold over your head in the future, but for some reason you trusted him.

Tonight, Crowley had presented you with a beautiful black velvet dress that went perfectly with the ruby necklace, earrings, and bracelet he had given you previously. Making your way down to dinner, you suddenly begin to feel nervous. You trace the fingers of your right hand along the tattoo twisting up your arm as you walk. The bond you had with him was changing the way you felt about him. When he first brought you here, you had hoped Sam and Dean would rescue you, but now you didn’t really want them to. To be honest, you’d fallen in love with the demon and tonight was the night you were going to tell him.

“Good evening Love,” Crowley says, already sitting at the table.

“Good evening,” you respond, sitting across the table from him.

“You look lovely as always,” Crowley says.

“Thanks,” you reply, a blush rising to your cheeks as you look down at the table and push a strand of hair behind your ear. Crowley snaps his fingers and your favorite meal appears on the table.

“Perhaps some music is in order,” Crowley says. He snaps his fingers and classical music begins to fill the room. The two of you eat in silence for a time as you work up the nerve to tell him what you want to tell him. “You seem nervous,” Crowley observes, “What’s the matter Love?”

“Nothing,” you answer, “It’s just, well, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“You’re leaving,” Crowley assumes, “I knew it would happen eventually.”

“You did?” you ask, shocked by his confession.

“Yes,” Crowley says, “You’ve kept your distance from me. I know I scare you and I know you mistrust me. The bond obviously hasn’t affected you the same way it has affected me. There’s no reason for you to stay with me.”

“There’s not?” you ask, “Not even if I love you?”

“That’s a lovely thought Darling,” Crowley says bitterly, “But I know it’s a lie.”

“Maybe it’s not,” you suggest.

“You don’t have to pretend for my sake,” Crowley tells you, shaking his head, “I’ve been alone for a long time, I don’t need your pity.”

“Crowley, are you even listening to me?” you ask, “I love you.”

“How?” he asks, “I thought you disliked me.”

“I don’t know,” you laugh, “It just kind of happened. I’m not even really sure it has anything to do with the bonding. To be honest, I kinda liked you before this whole mess, but now it’s something more. It’s not really something I can explain, but want to be bonded to you.”

“Do you mean this? Truthfully?” Crowley asks, his tone hopeful.

“Yes,” you answer simply. Crowley stands from the table and walks toward you, his hand extended. You take it and he pulls you to him, his left arm wrapping around your waist. “Crowley,” you giggle as he pulls you against him.

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” Crowley tells you.

“You have?” you ask.

“From the moment we bonded,” Crowley answers, “I’ve considered you my mate ever since then. I want you Y/N, and I will never want anyone else. This bond between us has ruined the thought of anyone else for me. I love you, as much as a demon can love anything, and I will never love another.” His right hand takes your left one as he begins to sway, leading you in time with the music. Warmth radiates from him and he smells like sulfur and whiskey. You’d never been this close to him and you never imagined you’d enjoy it this much. “I don’t really understand what I feel for you,” Crowley admits, “I’ve never loved anyone before.”

“Funny, neither have I,” you confess, “Maybe we were made for each other.”

“Another lovely thought,” Crowley says before pausing, “I always thought I deserved to be loved, but I never truly expected anyone to say it.”

“I love you Crowley,” you repeat, making him smile.

“I don’t believe I’ll ever tire of hearing you say that,” he tells you.

“I love you,” you tell him, “I love you, I love you, I lo-” Crowley cuts you off as he presses his lips to yours. His arm stays wrapped around your waist as his other hand slips into your hair. You melt against him, draping your arms over his shoulders. His tongue runs along your bottom lip and you easily grant him access. You moan as his tongue slips into your mouth, the taste of whiskey on him. With one hand, you card your fingers through his hair, your other hand fisting in his suit jacket.

“I love you,” Crowley mumbles against your lips, making you smile.

“If anyone had asked me who I thought I’d marry, I would’ve never bet my money on you,” you tell him, making him laugh. Crowley rests his forehead against yours as he continues swaying to the music. “I want you Crowley,” you whisper.

“Are you sure?” he questions.

“I’ve thought about it, and yeah, I do,” you answer.

“You’re so beautiful,” Crowley says, running his fingers along your tattoo, “And you’re mine.”

“Just as much as you are mine,” you tell him. Crowley captures your lips again, this time guiding you backward. You let him lead you down the hall to his room. The furniture is all carved from mahogany and the stone walls are lined with candles. The room becomes brighter as Crowley snaps his fingers, lighting a fire in the fireplace.

You’re so consumed by his kiss that you barely even notice him pulling down the zipper of your dress. “Is this alright?” Crowley asks, breaking the kiss. You nod before pressing your lips to his again. A moan escapes your lips as he presses his warm hand flat against your lower back, the material of your dress dropping to the floor and pooling around your feet. He takes his time with you, kissing your body as he removes the jewelry from your neck, ears, and wrist.

You press your hands beneath his suit jacket, helping him remove it before you reach for his tie. Your fingers shake as you try to loosen the knot and Crowley catches your wrists.

“We don’t have to do this,” Crowley assures you.

“I want to,” you tell him, “It’s just, I’ve never done this before so I’m a little nervous.”

“No need to be nervous,” Crowley says, kissing the tattoo on your wrist, “We’ll go slowly and if you want to stop, all you have to do is ask.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, offering him a shy smile.

“Don’t thank me Love,” Crowley says, “I’m corrupting you remember?”

“Only because I’ve asked you to,” you respond. Crowley hums in affirmation. He moves his hands to his tie and easily undoes the knot before pulling it from his neck. His fingers then move to his shirt and you help to undo the buttons. He un-tucks the material and shrugs it from his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. Your eyes instantly fixate to the tattoo wrapped around his arm.

“Huh,” you say, reaching for his arm, “I’ve never seen the whole thing before.” You trace your fingers over the tiny links of the chain.

“It’s just like yours,” Crowley points out.

“I know,” you answer, “But it looks different on you. I like it.” Crowley chuckles. He reaches for the clasp of your bra, undoing it before his hands slide down your arms and finally move to rest on your hips. You let him guide you backward until the backs of your knees meet the edge of the bed. A gasp escapes your lips as you fall back onto the mattress.

“You’re so beautiful,” Crowley whispers, standing above you. His eyes rake over your body as he moves to kneel between your legs. He kisses his way down your body as he goes, starting at your neck. His lips leave a trail of kisses along your collarbone and over the curve of your breast, pausing to draw your nipple between his lips. He draws the hardened bud out between his teeth before kissing across the valley between your breasts and sucking your other nipple into his mouth.

Your back arches towards him, begging him for more. You’d never been touched like this before and it was exciting in its own right, but knowing that the King of Hell was the one making you feel like this only heightened your excitement. You run your hands over his back and shoulders before fisting them in his hair. His lips continue their journey down your body as he leaves a trail of kisses down your abdomen. He stops to dip his tongue into your belly button, making you giggle and squirm.

“Still nervous Love?” Crowley questions, stopping to look up at you. You prop yourself up on one elbow in order to meet his gaze.

“You really do care don’t you?” you ask, carding your fingers through his hair before caressing his cheek.

“I blame it on the bloody spell,” he tells you, though you can tell he’s lying by the smile he gives you.

“A little,” you say, answering his initial question.

“I’ll take care of you,” Crowley promises, “Remember, tell me if you wish to stop.” You nod in understanding and Crowley leans in closer, his lips brushing your clit through your panties. A gasp escapes your lips at the sudden friction. “You really do want me don’t you?” Crowley asks, “We’ve barely even begun and you’ve already soaked your panties.” To be honest, you hadn’t even realized how wet you’d become.

“You don’t have to be so cocky,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“I’ll show you cocky,” Crowley mumbles. He presses his lips against you, kissing you through the material of your panties.

“Crowley,” you moan in frustration. He really was going to take this slowly and it was driving you crazy. Your body was craving more friction. Crowley hums against you, sending vibrations straight to your core. The sensation makes your hips buck towards him, silently begging for more.

His fingers play with the waistband of your panties for a moment before he decides to hook his fingers beneath it. You lift your hips to help him as he pulls the material from you. “Lay back on the bed,” Crowley instructs, pressing his hand as against your chest and pushing you back gently. You do as he asks, keeping one hand fisted in his hair.

You moan as his nose brushes your clit and he kisses your pussy lips. His beard tickles your thighs as he licks, kisses, and sucks. Each of his actions are deliberate; it’s almost like he knows your body better than you yourself. His hands slide from your hips to your knees, drawing your legs over his shoulders. The new position allows him to bury his face between your legs, giving you all sorts of pleasure. He teases his tongue between your folds and swirls it around inside you.

“Crowley,” you moan, your hand fisting in the sheets beside you. You dig your heels into his back and fist your other hand in his hair, desperately trying to pull him closer.

“You taste delicious,” Crowley mumbles against you. He licks a long stripe up your pussy lips before sucking your clit into his mouth. You draw your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down, muffling the moan threatening to escape. “You don’t have to be quiet Love,” Crowley tells you, “I’m the only one around to hear; and I’d love to hear.”

Crowley’s fingers slide along your folds before he pushes one into you. This time you don’t even try to stop the loud moan that escapes you. He curls his finger, the digit easily finding your g-spot. Your head falls back against the sheets as you writhe on the bed. Crowley chuckles against you. He pumps his finger in and out of you agonizingly slowly, the rhythm growing faster.

“More, please,” you plead. Crowley obliges. He slides a second finger into you and then a third, pumping them faster and faster. His fingers curl and scissor, making your stomach twist and tighten. “Crowley please,” you moan, your back arching from the bed. Crowley sucks your clit hard, the feeling pushing you over the edge. “Crowley!” you exclaim, your walls clamping down around his fingers. Your hips buck towards him, riding out your orgasm. He laps up everything you have to give him and the feeling only makes you want more.

“Not so nervous now are you?” Crowley asks. He pulls his fingers from you and sucks them clean, one by one.

“Crowley, I want you,” you tell him. Crowley kisses his way back up your body before standing beside the bed. You watch as his hands reach for his belt buckle, the bulge in his pants obvious. He pushes his pants and boxers down as he kicks off his shoes and toes off his socks. Your eyes widen as his large, hard cock springs free. “That’s supposed to fit inside me?” you ask, only half joking.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” Crowley chuckles. He joins you on the bed and guides you to the pillows. Crowley settles himself above you, resting one forearm beside your head to support him. “I know this is your first time,” Crowley says, his free hand roaming your body, “I want to make this about you. If there’s anything you like, or don’t like, all you have to do is tell me.” You nod in understanding.

“Oddly sweet for a demon,” you laugh, tracing your fingers along his tattoo.

“I won’t always be this sweet,” he promises, “Your corruption is a very special occasion.” You can’t help but laugh at the comment. “Are you ready?” he asks, and you readily answer yes. Crowley snaps his fingers, making a condom appear before he rolls it over his length. “I love you,” Crowley says, kissing your lips as he settles himself between your legs.

“I love you too,” you mumble back. Crowley smiles against your lips as he draws one of your legs around his waist. You moan as he rocks his hips against you, his hard cock sliding through your dripping folds. His tip presses against your clit again and again, making you needy. “Please,” you whisper.

Crowley captures your lips as he pushes into you slowly, filling you inch by throbbing inch. You moan as his thick cock stretches you, filling you to the hilt. The feeling is strange, but not unpleasant. Once he’s fully seated inside you, he stays still and lets you adjust to his size. “How do you feel?” Crowley asks, making sure you’re comfortable.

“Perfect,” you answer, dragging your nails down his back lightly. Honestly, you were amazed by how perfectly he fit you. You need him to move and you lift your hips to encourage him.

“Good,” Crowley says, kissing you as he pulls out and slides in again. He sets a slow pace, letting you feel each inch of his twitching, throbbing cock as he moves. “You feel so good,” Crowley praises, “So tight around my cock.” His words make you moan. You can’t help but admire the way he looks in the firelight, the flames casting shadows across his face. “I love you Y/N,” he whispers as he thrusts, slow and gentle, “Say it, please, I want to hear you say you love me.”

“I love you Crowley,” you tell him over and over.

“My wife,” Crowley whispers between thrusts, “Mine.”

“All yours,” you assure him, “And you’re mine, my husband.” It was the first time you’d ever called him your husband, and you can feel the effect it has on him as his hands grasp you tightly. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he fills you again and again. His rhythm grows faster, but no less gentle. One of his hands finds yours and his fingers intertwine with your own. You were surprised by how loving he was. He kisses your cheeks, neck, and shoulders as he thrusts. His free hand explores your body as if he’s committing each inch of you to memory.

Your walls grow tight and flutter around him, your back arching from the bed. “Y/N,” Crowley groans, his thrusts becoming more erratic despite his efforts to control them.

You can feel yourself growing tighter and tighter around him. “Crowley,” you moan. You hold him as close as you can, your fingertips digging into his back. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breaths falling across your skin. “Crowley, Crowley, Crowley!” you exclaim as your walls clamp down around him. Your back arches from the bed as your orgasm washes over you.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Crowley groans as he continues thrusting. His cock pulses, spilling himself into the condom as he reaches his climax, his orgasm prolonging your own. You relax back against the bed as you come down from your high, the weight of him above you.

“Crowley, that…” you begin as your breathing returns to normal, “That wasn’t what I expected.”

“No?” Crowley asks, almost sounding concerned, “Was it not pleasurable.”

“It’s not that,” you assure him as you cup his face between your hands, “It was amazing; you were amazing, I just didn’t expect you to be so gentle.” Crowley chuckles as he pulls himself from you and rolls to your side.

“Don’t worry Love,” Crowley says as he removes the condom, “It won’t always be like that, I do enjoy a bit of the rougher stuff.” Crowley wraps you up in his arms and pulls you against him. “You haven’t been fully corrupted yet Darling,” he adds.

“Crowley?” you ask, “Was I … good?”

“Good?” Crowley scoffs, “Y/N, you were nothing less than perfection. I never thought I’d say this about a human, a hunter no less, but you are everything to me. Right now, in this moment, you make me feel like there’s someone who actually gives a damn about me.”

“Because I do,” you tell him, “I didn’t realize it before, but after spending these last two months with you I’ve realized how much I actually like you.”

“The moment I bonded to you, I realized how much I really needed you,” Crowley adds.

“You did?” you ask.

“Yes,” Crowley tells you, “The spell isn’t effective unless both parties share at least some interest in each other.”

“I didn’t know that,” you admit.

“I suspected as much,” Crowley says, “But I didn’t want to scare you away. I thought that if you knew a demon was interested in you in that way, you’d leave.”

“I wouldn’t have left,” you assure him, “I’ve loved you for a while.”

“I know that now,” Crowley says, running his thumb across your cheekbone, “I love you, my Queen.”