Supernatural One-shots

We Meet Again - Crowley

~(A/N: Basically, the prompt is that you and Crowley were soulmates in your past life, before he died and went to hell. Now you hunt with the Winchesters and when he shows up to the bunker, he's surprised that he finally reunited with you after so long. Hope you enjoy!)~

"Two words," you narrowed your eyes at Dean Winchester, who held up two fingers in front of you. You had just come back from a hunt and now you two were just killing time by playing charades. Sam on the other hand, was too exhausted and went straight to his room to sleep all day. If it were any other day, you'd tell him "sleep is for the weak" or call him "grandpa," but honestly, he needed the rest. It was a rough hunt.

Dean nodded excitedly and pointed his hands out like guns while smiling flirtatiously. "What's that supposed to mean...?" you furrowed your eyebrows. He was really bad at this game.

"Ayyy," was all he said. You assumed it was his form of a hint.

Then it hit you like a light flickering on in your head. "The Fonz!"

"Finally," Dean chuckled. "I was really starting to think you wouldn't get it."

"It's not my fault you suck at charades," you rolled your eyes.

"Hey, don't put the blame on me. You're just a terrible guesser."

"Oh squirrel, don't be such a sore loser," an unfamiliar accented voice spoke. Glancing at Dean, you saw that he was looking over your shoulder, scowling at the intruder with his jaw clenched angrily.

You turned behind you to see where the voice had come from, only to be looking up into the dark brown eyes of a stranger with a five o'clock shadow and a full, elegant black suit. The smirk on his face faded once his eyes focused more clearly on you, glancing you up and down. "(Y/N)? Is that really you?" His eyes were wide and mouth slightly gaped.

You narrowed your eyes at the man in suspicion. "How do you know my name..."

"It's me, darling. Fergus," he told you with a smile. "I know, I look different since we last saw each other."

"I don't..." you trailed off, still not getting how any of what he was saying was supposed to help.

"Wait, you two know each other?" Dean arched a brow.

"No," you quickly answered.

"You don't remember me?" the guy looked genuinely hurt.

"No," you shook your head. "Sorry."

"Hold on, I'm lost. Crowley, how do you know (Y/N)?" Dean asked.

"Before I was dragged to hell, (Y/N) and I were together, romantically," Crowley explained, chuckling a bit. "Why do you think I traded my soul for the extra inches?"

"Ugh," Dean grimaced, "Didn't need to know all that."

"So you're Crowley? Like King of Hell, Crowley," you looked up at him again with knit brows. The brothers had told you about him before and how much he was a pain in the ass, but you never met him face to face.

"In the flesh," he grinned, "Do you honestly not remember who I am?"

"No clue," you told him. "Look, I'm sorry but the (Y/n) you knew...well I'm not her."

"This is crazy," Dean muttered, " I can't believe Crowley actually has a heart."

"Hey, leave him alone Dean," you sent a glare Dean's way, "I'm pretty sure he's been in a relationship longer than you ever have."

"Ouch," Crowley muttered, causing Dean's face to falter. 

"You know what? This is just too weird," you quickly stood up from your seat. "It was nice meeting you, Crowley."

He nodded and watched as you entered the hallway, retreating quickly into what he presumed was your room. "I see her feisty attitude hasn't gone away," he grinned to himself. "It has to be her."

"Sorry to break it to ya Crowley,  but that's just not the same girl. She barely knows anything about you," Dean told him, giving him a sympathetic expression. 

"Well, that can change."

"How are you going to make that happen?"

"By making her fall in love with me all over again," Crowley answered with a confident smile.

"Wow, you must really care about her if you're willing to go that far," Dean muttered, still in disbelief that Crowley actually loved someone.

The moon shined over the glimmering sea as the serene waves slipped back and forth into the sand. You stared hopelessly  at the dark sky, feeling an unsettling weight approaching. It was as though the sky was an empty, starless void and its darkness was inevitably going to consume you whole. Something just was not right about this night. It was unlike any other night, but you couldn't figure out why.

You felt a sudden ease when Fergus walked up behind you, slipping his arms around your waist. As he rested his head on your shoulder, you smiled, leaning into him as well. "Darling, what are you doing out in the cold? You'll catch a fever."

You said nothing in response, just enjoying the warm touch of  his embrace against the thin fabric of your dress. He smelled like beer, making it obvious he had been drinking again. When you first met him, he was quite the eccentric, festive drunk. But now, lately it seemed as though he drank just to get by. You knew something was wrong with him, but he would never admit it. Sometimes you thought about just running away from all of it, but you knew he would be even more of a mess without you. And so would you.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Fergus suddenly whispered into your ear. Something was definitely wrong. He only said that phrase whenever he would go away for long periods of time and was afraid he would never come back. He would always make sure that if it would ever be our last time together, he would leave nothing unsaid. You began to worry.

You quickly turned around to face Fergus, whose eyes were faintly puffy. "Fergus, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, love," he answered, faking a smile. "I just felt you should know that."

"Fergus, don't lie to me."

"I assure you darling. I'm being nothing but truthful," he told you before he pressed his lips onto yours. His hands gripped your waist hard, as if he was afraid to let go at any moment. After a few seconds, he pulled away abruptly like he was trying to stop himself. "Now come back inside. You need your rest."