Monstrous Things (Crowley x Reader)

Chapter II - Windswept

Chapter II - Windswept
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One Year Later...

You stood near the roaring bonfire, surrounded by your mother's family and friends. Staring into the flames, you wondered if this was all you would be seeing after you were dead. Although the heat consumed you, you were shaking. You had long since accepted your fate, but you were still terrified of it.

You hadn't told anyone of the deal, and you weren't sure they would have believed you anyway. Demons? Selling your soul? You probably would have laughed too. What made things worse was that after a 3AM study session, you learned Crowley was not only a crossroads demon, but the King of Hell. You had flirted briefly with the curious question of why the King had taken your deal instead of letting a lesser demon handle it. But after awhile, you didn't care.

"Hey, knucklehead," your mother called you. Her hands were covered by plastic gloves, and she was holding a small bottle. Her hair was a tangled wet bunch sitting on top of her head. She had just noticed you watching from the doorway, wondering what odd procedure she might be doing to herself now. "I'm changing my hair color."

Your brows furrowed, and you tugged at your own (h/c) strands. Why wouldn't she want to match you? "But I like (h/c)," you told her, and she smiled. Then, she shook her head.

"It's going to be a nice, pale blonde after this is done."

You took a step forward to get a better look in the mirror, only to bump into the small trash can. Your gaze flicking downwards to look at the obstruction, you found a plastic tube that was dyed in a light shade of lilac - her purple lipstick. Although it had been her favorite and not yours, seeing it in the junk bin felt like an insult. Like a betrayal.

"Who are you?" you asked her. She only laughed. It wasn't a joke.

"I met a man at QuikTrip, you know where we always get cappuccino and hotdogs?" You nodded slowly, cautiously. "His name is Richard."

"Is he married too?" After Vince, you had always been on high alert for wedding bands. You determined that if your mother was to be with anyone, it would not be a man who was already in love.

Her features shifted, and something within her changed. Her jowls grew heavy as she frowned. "It doesn't matter." She ran her fingers through the mop of hair. "He works at a motorcycle shop, and that means he could take us on bike rides without your aunt and uncle." You weren't sure how you liked that, and seeing her tug at the thick strands of (h/c) that were steadily turning lighter, you realized something.

"Are you changing because of him?" It felt like an innocent question. At your young age, it might have been. But she seemed distraught by it.

Her eyes turned glossy and she looked down at you with a tight-lipped smile. She looked like she was trying too hard, and it killed you. As you wrapped your arms around her waist and stared into your reflection, she wiped away a tear with the back of her wrist.

"It's the price I pay for love," she said.

Within 365 days, nothing had changed. Crowley had taken your soul and practically given you nothing in return. He hadn't warned you of your stupidity. He hadn't told you that your mother had loved you. Like a true salesman, he avoided the roadblocks and the questions that would lead you to doubt. He fooled you into thinking that a deal had been the ultimate answer, but you were left rotting.