Supernatural Imagines/Preferences

Crossroads Deal ~Crowley

*Imagine trying to make a deal with Crowley, but things take an unexpected turn.*

This is stupid. This whole crossroads demon thing is useless. How am I even so naive to do this... It's cold as well.

I close the small black box filled with yarrow, graveyard dirt, a bone from a black cat and a picture of me. That's the one thing that I hate. Me.

Yeah, I didn't kill a cat for the bone. My friends kitty needed her leg amputated after stepping on glass, so I just took that... I don't even want to remember the awkward conversation ever again.

Now, what you're supposed to do is burry the box and wait, I guess. I'm just hoping that the website wasn't bullshitting. I bend down and set the small box aside, starting to dig a hole in the dirt with my hand.

How did this all begin? Long story short, I hate myself. The way I look. The way I talk. Everything. From the top of my overly-big head to the tip of my weird toes. My friend mentioned something about ️Demons so I looked it up and here I am, standing in the middle of nowhere, with my favourite band playing softly from my car which is parked a few metres away. And let's not even mention the bloody weather is shit to top it off with.

I slowly stand up and take a tentative step back, looking at the place where I burried the box in doubt. Dead centre of a crossroad. Do I wait? Or...

"Hello, love." A brittish accent calls out from behind me, like a casual greeting. I'm pretty sure nobody was here before. I spin around, my (H/C) hair flailing around as I get a look at the man standing a few metres away from me. Now, this is a strangely pleasant sight.

He's a little bit taller than me, with short brown hair and he's wearing a black tux. Well, he's wearing all black. How on earth did he get here? Is he a...

"Crowley. Nice to meet you too" he speaks, a smirk on his plush lips and his hands in the pockets of his formal trousers. He's a sassy one, I can tell. "(Y/N). Are you a-" I start to ask, but his thick accent interrupts me.

"A demon? No, love. Try King of Hell." His smirk grows even larger as he watches the blood run cold out of my face. Oh you've got to be kidding me. The... The king of HELL??

My knees wobble and I almost collapse onto the dirt, if it weren't for the fact that Crowley, the King of Hell, is standing next to me. Can ️Demons... Teleport? Wow, that's a weird thought. Well, this whole situation is weird.

One of his arms is around my shoulder and the other's on my forearm, keeping me up. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through me, a feeling that seems to be mutual, his facial expression showing a mix of confusion and shock. But it's well hidden.

"Well, (Y/N). What is it that you want to sell your soul for?" He asks calmly, taking his hands off me and stepping away. Yeah, the soul part. That's a catcher. Sell your soul for the thing you want...

I take a step back as well and look into his colourful eyes. It's hard to determine what hue they are...

"I want to be... Beautiful." I mutter quietly, but he seems to have heard my barely audible murmuring. I'm sure there would have been better things to ask for, like world peace, but I'm selfish and I guess that's sort of impossible.

The man furrows his thick eyebrows and cocks his head to the side. "But you're already the most ravishing creature I've seen. Even for a human" his brittish accent shows a hint of amusement.

Did he really just say that? The King of Hell, compliment me? I feel heat creep up my neck and settle onto my cheeks. "Well, I-" I stutter, but he just chuckles. Something funny?

"I'll pick you up Saturday at 7. Wear something elegant. Until then, take care, love." He finishes with a wink, dissapearing into... Hell? Yeah, hell. Holy shit... I've got a date with the King of Hell.

Second Imagine, is it any good? Please leave comments and suggestions as to how I can make these better! Thank you :)
I know a lot of people say this, but my imagines to get better so stick around!