crowley smut

Imagine Crowley getting a needy vibe from the reader and finding it cute how shy they are about it.

They always said to keep the person that knows your wordless thoughts, but the way Crowley knew everything inside the gates of your mind was crazy scary. He knew your exact thoughts word for word and could pinpoint the cause of a bad mood like a hawk can target a mouse multiple feet about the ground. Sometimes it was a blessing but others it was a curse.

“Hm, darling…” Crowley smirked. “What are you doing over there all alone?”

Your small eyes peaked over the small pillow you were hugging. “Nothing. Sitting.”

“Get over here.”

“What? Why?” Somewhere inside your head you knew it wasn’t a request but rather a demand. The question was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, though.

“Because you want affection but won’t ask for it.”

Heat rushed to your face. “Do not!”

“Come on, darling. Don’t play coy..”

Pointless, that’s what it was. It was like fighting a losing battle trying to convince him other wise. Quickly, your head shot down, the computer packed into your skull making the floor seem entertaining. A finger hooked under your chin and directed your gaze to him.

“Don’t be shy…even though that blush brings out the color of your eyes.” Crowley smiled as he tucked a piece of hair behind your now blood red ear. Jerking you into his lap, he held you flush against him. “Daddy knows what his babygirl needs.”

SPN-Sutra Master List!

Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who participated! This has been so much fun!

Below you will find a bunch of smut. Each author was given a sex position, and has written a one shot around that position with a pairing of their choice. Get your cold shower ready!

If you posted a fic and I somehow missed it, I AM SORRY! Please send me a link and I will fix it immediately. If you haven’t posted yet but want to, make sure you tag me, and I will update this master list as necessary.

Happy Smut Reading, y’all!!

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This is my favorite video edit ever, It’s art. I don’t know who made it, I think a girl from Brazil but I’m not sure (shoutout to all the latinamerican fans, myself included). I think everyone should see this <3

Supernatual

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

Y/N: Dean calm down! I’m trying to get this bullet out!

Crowley: It was an accident. Just chill Winchester.

Dean: Chill? He can’t be fucking serious? CHILL? Sure and it’ll be an accident when I’ll shoot you with the colt.

Y/N: *leans in next to Dean’s ear* I’ll make you feel better later.

Dean: …Chill

- Cas has said that Dean and him have a more “profound bond” than Sam and Cas do

- Dean is always significantly impacted by Cas dying/leaving/etc, and Sam, although also hurt by it, not NEARLY as much as Dean always is

- Dean and Cas have movie nights, (presumably) without Sam

- Dean wanted to actually die after Cas died, not wanting to live without him

- Cas has an issue with personal space but only with Dean ??

- Eye sex

- Cas never watches Sam while he sleeps, but you bet your ass he watches Dean

- Cas (presumably) usually always makes Dean coffee in the morning

- Dean made Cas a mixtape

- How Dean hates Jack, but suddenly Cas comes back and Dean wants Jack to stay

- “I need you”

- 13x05 NEVER shows Sam’s reaction to seeing Cas again, as if only Dean and Cas are reuniting

- How Dean always welcomes Cas home, because home is where the Dean is

- Dean not believing in anything after Cas’ death

- “I just need a win” *Cas comes back*

- Cas says “I love you.” *Camera cuts to Dean*

But yeah no —‘brotherly love’

The King’s Omega

 Pairing: Crowley x Reader (start)


Summary: Every omega has until she comes of age until the mating ceremony to find a mate to bond. Of course, those who don’t have to pick from alphas that have also had bad luck, and the ceremony is just that for Y/n: a last resort. But, Crowley, the alpha she meets, is the king of kings when it comes to alphas, and why is she so interested in him?


Author’s note: I wrote this sorta as a drabble, but then, I just kept writing and thought of maybe turning this into a series. Anyways… take a look.


Warnings: a/b/o dynamics (somewhat modified), obviously pr eluding to a smut chapter so part 2 will probably contain that sort of warning


Word count: approximately 2600 words.


Catch up: Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5


   When you were a young pup your mother would tuck you into bed at night, she would pull a very large, very old book down from the bookshelf and read the same old story. Your favorite story. You could recite the words perfectly by the time you turned five, but no matter how old you got- you always begged for your mother to read it to you instead.  Most of the stories your mother had told you, held lessons for life between their lines, ones you had counted on to see you through difficult situations. But this story trumped the rest.

Originally posted by ephemeralsyzygy

   This story was of the omega choosing ceremonies. 

   Now your mother would always begin this tale with the same old lecture. “Not everything, Y/n, is a fairy tale. Omegas are mated to the Alpha that wins them-no loopholes, no negotiations. True mates aren’t common at all, which is why these ceremonies are done. Do you understand?”

     “Yes, Momma,” you would reply.

    Once upon a time, but not so long ago, lived a beautiful omega…

   “Y/n, please don’t stay out too late tonight with the other girls!” Your mother called from the kitchen as she saw you heading toward the door in your party dress and heels. “It’s hunting season and alphas are always…”

     “-Rowdy after a hunt. Momma, I know,” You smiled warmly at her and she nodded back.

   It wasn’t that she was scared of alphas, but your mother didn’t want you to be corned into a bond like she had been. She had always said having to learn to love someone was harder than heartbreak ever could be. 

   When you returned that night, she had been waiting with treats, and a movie.


     …she lived in a small house with just her mother, unmated and alone…


    You had always been careful. Never brave enough to dare get close to any who remotely even knew an alpha, but you had needs. You felt your own arousal peeking as you turned around over and over in the mirror. The dress hugged your curves in just the right places, your make-up was just right, and the heels made your calves pop. You wanted, no needed the attention. You needed a mate. 

     Your mother wanted you to wait another year before attending a ceremony, but you couldn’t. Your gut wouldn’t let you wait anymore. Anxiousness was filling your body, but so was excitement. A need you couldn’t quite squash.

    “Just promise me-” your mother said watching you from the doorway to your room. “-Whatever happens tonight…you pick who you want to bond with. Do not be pressured.”

      “I promise, Momma,” you say hugging her tightly.

    “That’s all I can ask for,” she says as she kisses your hair lovingly, and ushers you out the door.


     ….When she grew of age, she attended the mating ceremony…..


     “Miss L/n, everyone is waiting in the ballroom. Just line up with the other omegas and the bachelors will be out shortly to court you,” the doorman informed you as he held open the giant door. 

      Your heels clicked against the tile floor as you shuffled behind the rest of the omegas, most of whom had dressed in more expensive dresses, whose hair was done by elite professionals. Girls who were, in your opinion, far more omega(y) then you. 

      When you came to the end of the hall in front of giant doors, a small woman stepped in front of the herd.


      “Hello ladies, I am the Mater- and  I will be escorting you through tonight. For those of you who don’t know what a Mater is. I am the person who binds you and your bonded mate together in front of the pack,” she says in a low, authoritative manner. She smirks and adds, “that is…after the intimate part, of course,” which earned her a few chuckles from the rest of the group. “Once, these doors open…”


       ….The ball was beautiful, the music sublime, but the little Omega was still missing something….


        “..So when these doors open, just remember the rules- and you’ll be fine,” the Mater finished just as the doors behind her opened.

     The crowd rushed in eagerly, squealing out excited gasps. You quickly followed suit. Unfortunately, you didn’t see the group stopping. You slammed into one girl’s back, who through a fit threw you forward through the crowd. Your heels slid across the tile like water and you stumbled, trying to stop. Your body went top heavy, and soon you could see the ground racing towards your face.

    Suddenly, you were caught. A strong smell of amber, cinnamon, and woods met your nose, and you instantly knew it was an alpha. You were guided up to your feet, but kept your eyes cast downwards, in fear and anticipation.

     “Look at me, omega,” came an accented tongue that held no vice or anger.  It also caused your body to tingle more, and that terrified you further. 

   “I said: Look. At. Me. Omega,” the voice commanded and your eyes snapped up. 

Originally posted by eomerr


     ….But when her eyes met a man’s she instantly knew. He was what she was searching for. Her alpha, her mate….


  Instantly a set of fiery red eyes caught your attention, but as you watched the red fade to a deep brown, your eyes caught the sight of a wicked smirk. 

    “Better,” he purred, causing your chest to tighten in anxiousness. “I’m Crowely, poppet. First ceremony, love?” he asked cockily, smiling when you nodded in a shocked confirmation.

    He pulls you close to breathe in your scent, and quickly releases you. His eyes, now that fiery red again, hold your own for a moment before he shakes his head and steps back. 

    It was then that you heard the whispers behind you:

   “It’s the King!”

   “Alpha!”

    “He smelled her? He smelled her!”

   Their exclamations slowly drown out as you watch him retreat to the back of the room with the rest of the alphas. Your eyes focused on his fiery red ones, that you can see across the room, as if he was starring into your soul. Your body felt rigid, an overload of thoughts, feelings, and senses rock your nerves as you debate what the hell just happened to you.

Originally posted by frozen-delight


      ….He was as handsome as she was kind. She was as ruthless as he was sincere. She wore his bite with pride. This was how the King met his queen, his omega……

Sleeping With the Enemy

A/N:  Ok, so what had happened was, @archangel-with-a-shotgun shared a story about being invited to a ball by Crowley, and then the most recent installment of @icecream-and-gadreel’s smutacular series involved a Crowley scene, and I really should not be held accountable for my actions, after that.

Summary: The reader and the Winchesters infiltrate Crowley’s Halloween masquerade ball, in order to steal a powerful talisman.  Crowley offers the reader a deal.

Word Count: 5,080ish.  Sorry, not sorry.  I, much like my beloved sinnamon roll, enjoy a little torture before the grand finale. 

Menu I mean Warnings:  THE MOST BLAZINGLY FILTHY SMUTTY SMUT I HAVE EVER WRITTEN!  YE WERE WARNED!  Power struggle, demon power!kink, oral sex (female receiving), semi-public sex, Crowley’s magical thundercock, ALL the dirty talk, Dom!Crowley, unprotected sex (do it right or pay the price, kids).

Soundtrack: http://8tracks.com/forestspirit/harbingers-of-the-dead

“I can’t believe you made me wear this thing.” You tugged lightly at the crimson velvet of your gown, trying to hike the neckline up.

“Shut up, you look awesome.” Dean teased.  “Besides, it’s a costume party.  Not like you could show up in your usual duds.”

The colonial-style gown was undeniably beautiful.  (Dean had looked so proud of himself when he brought it home from the costume shop.)  It was the kind of thing any princess wannabe would give her left arm to wear.  The problem was you.  You didn’t belong in a getup like this- you were a hunter for fuck’s sake.  The tight, low cut bodice restricted your movements, and while the wide skirts were perfect for concealing weaponry, they were heavy and swished around when you moved, getting caught on doorways and furniture.  It made you feel confined and clumsy.  Not like yourself at all. 

Then again, that was the point of a masquerade, wasn’t it?  You huffed and yanked on your neckline, again.

“Screw you, Winchester.  I look like a Hamilton reject.   How come you’re not in costume, huh?”

“Believe me, sweetheart.  This monkey suit is plenty.”  He adjusted the jacket of his tux, as if the black wool were strangling him.  “Plus, we’ve got the whole mask thing going on.”  He indicated the black velvet domino mask covering half his face.  “Now that’s above and beyond.”

“You look beautiful, Y/N.”  Sam chimed in from behind his golden sun mask.  “If anything, Dean and I are underdressed.”

Sighing, you turned to take in the sight before you.

When Crowley hosted a Halloween masquerade, he didn’t half-ass it.  The huge black marble ballroom was swirling with intricate costumes.  There was a man (demon, you corrected yourself) in a top hat and tails covered with feathers, giving him the look of a rather stately raven.  A giggling woman passed by wearing a tight gown covered in red and yellow sequins (or were they embers?), with what looked like real flames dancing through her hair.

Sam was right.  Even in your tight, swishing velvet, you were so plainly out of place.  So very human. You tightened the strap on your red fox mask, trying to disappear.

“Ok, let’s get what we came for and go.  I don’t want to be here a second longer than we have to.” You grumbled.

“10-4.” Replied Dean.

“We’ll split up, meet back here in an hour?” Said Sam.

You all nodded and went your separate ways.  The boys headed in opposite directions, toward twin hallways on either side of the ballroom.  That meant you got to weave through the crowd.  Joy.

You passed by a buffet table, piled high with fruit, bread, cheese, and what you chose to believe was beef.  You didn’t take anything.  You did, however, take a flute of champagne from a silver tray as it passed, carried by a hunched form in a goblin mask.  Wait, was that a mask?  By the time you looked again, the server was gone.  

You looked more closely at the figures around you.  They weren’t all demons.  There was a faerie queen in a dress of autumn leaves, a crown of willow branches on her head.  She was attended by a knight in orange mail armor, and -yes!- the knight did have a fluffy tail that swished in and out of view as she pivoted, guarding her queen.  In an alcove, sitting on leather couches and sipping blood from crystal stemware, were some vampires who apparently never got the memo about goth fashion being cliche for their kind.  

The more you looked, the more variation you saw in the guests.  Witches, werewolves, faeires, vampires, djin… This wasn’t just a Halloween party for Crowley’s court, it was a fucking state sumit.  

“Now, what is a beautiful creature like you doing hanging about in the shadows?” said a smooth cockney voice in your ear.  You whirled around to face the speaker, praying your disguise was good enough.  

Crowley was dressed in an impeccable black suit and blood red tie, as usual.  His “costume”, it seemed, was a long burgundy cape with a high collar and a matching leather mask shaped like a skull.  Four demonic horns protruded from the top of his mask, giving the appearance of a crown.  Subtle.  With a flourish of his cape, he bowed and offered his hand, looking through his lashes as he said with a grin, “What do you say, love?  Care to dance with the devil?”

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Supernatural Preference #1 | Kisses

Kisses


Dean:

Dean’s kisses vary depending on his mood. When he’s relaxed and happy they’re all soft and slow and sweet. His hands were snug on your hips as he whispered sweet things in your ear. Trailing little kisses from under your ear to your jaw to your lips. When he’s upset or worried or stressed they’re all lust-filled. One large, calloused hand pressed the back of your head onto his, his fingers twisted into your hair, firmly. He’d let out little growls when you pulled away, flashing desperate puppy-eyes at your own just to get more kisses.

Sam:

Sam always had his hands on you when you kissed. Whether it’s his thumb and forefinger gripping your chin or his hand pressed on the small of your back, he wanted to have hold of you. Sometimes he’d just bury his hands into the sides of your hair. Pushing it out of your face and pulling it through his fingers. Sammy was always a little rough, even in the sweetest of times. He was always worried that the, kiss would be the last. He couldn’t bare the thought so he always made them count.

Cas:

When Cas kissed you, he always did it in clusters. It was never just one sweet kiss. He’s cup your face gently with his calloused hands and brush his lips to yours still, after years, nervous to kiss you. He’d press them softly to your lips, your jaw, your neck, your face. Everywhere. He loved it. He’d press his lips to you until you were writhing and giggling underneath him from the tickling feeling of his lips and stubble grazing your skin.

Crowley:

Dominant. That word could be directed at any part of Crowley. The way he walked, the way he talked and held himself. If he wanted something from you, then he would get it. You’d walk into the room and he’d gesture you forward with a curved finger, “Come here.” was one phrase he often mouthed when he did it. You’d walk to him and he’d curl one arm around your waist and his hand would grip your jaw tightly, keeping your head in place. He’d kiss you for seconds, minutes even before he even considered loosening his grip on you.

Gabriel:

Gabriel was a tease. He’d press tiny pecks on your jaw and face before quickly peppering your lips, always pulling away before you would get to press back. He’d pull back with that god damn smartass smirk that drove you nuts. You’d flash him a playful pout and he’s giggle lightly before pulling you into his lap. He’d press a soft and gentle kiss against your lips before whispering sweet nothings into your ear.