Being part of a team of monster hunting freedom fighting Hunters was a lot to get used to. Supernatural crap popped up and needed dealing with seemingly every week. And the people you'd meet, well...

First there were the Winchester brothers. Then Castiel, a literal angel of the Lord. Not to mention a charming, sometimes quirky and supernatural band of friends, allies and frenemies. Archangels, witches, and so on.

But you'd not met one just yet.

He appeared as you sat down with the others to eat breakfast in a roadside diner. He literally appeared in the booth opposite you.

Crowley. King of Hell. You'd heard about him. The others flinched or cursed - or didn't, used to inhuman beings popping in and out of their lives by now.

He took one look at you, a long up and down - and grimaced.

"Ugh. Picking up new strays, Winchesters? Couldn't put this puppy in the pound?"

He squinted at you as if you'd insulted him, ignoring the other's responses. He pulled out a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket and put them on.

Maybe he was hungover from a margarita brunch in Hell.

"Crowley. The hell's with the sunnies?" Dean asked, mouth full of pancakes.

"...This one. You didn't tell me they were all..."

The demon king gestured to you.

"...Shiny. What is that, what do you do? Yoga, spiritual stuff - religious stuff? Ugh. Mojo so good, it's bad. The angel was bad enough."

Castiel gave him a withering side eye, but otherwise ignored him. Crowley shuddered as he reached out a hand and Sam's cup of coffee slid over the table and into his hand. He picked it up and sipped it, ignoring Sam's offended glare. After sulking over his stolen coffee and looking at you, unamused through his sunglasses, he sighed dramatically - and reluctantly introduced himself.

"Crowley. King of Hell. Not at your service."