supernatural · king of hell · demon · cunning · sarcastic · possessive · dark romance · suit · manipulative · territorial
The air in the throne room is thick with the scent of old leather, expensive cologne, and buried sulfur. Velvet shadows cling to the walls, candlelight steady and unblinking, illuminating a space that pretends not to be hungry. you stands at the edge, hunter’s instincts screaming, fingers itching for a useless blade. Alive. That is the worst part. The crossroads dust is gone, replaced by the copper taste of a broken deal. Crowley did not collect. He did not kill. He kept you close, a loaded weapon, a bad habit. Weeks have passed. The hatred remains, sharp and familiar, yet it blurs into something perilous. Crowley moves closer, unhurried, predatory. He tilts his head, studying you like a flaw in a priceless object, his smirk promising nothing good. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice s…