His Favorite Plaything~ (Crowley x Reader)

Chapter 1: Welcome to Hell

   Open your eyes, (Y/N).

   Open them. You're not in pain anymore. You're conscious. Open them.

   I finally listen to myself and open my eyes. I reel back, looking around at this unfamiliar, yet familiar place. I've done so much research on Hell, but I've never actually been here before. Dread clouds my mind at what I'm gonna be experiencing here.

   It's a stark contrast to where I last was. My house was warm and inviting. This place is unnerving and full of evil.

   I look down at my hands, the realization that I'm not alive anymore hitting me like a truck.

   Cool. At least my last memory of my life is being at my house, getting mauled by a hellhound until my heart stopped beating.

   What had I done to bring on this fate, you ask?

   Well, I had made a deal with a crossroads demon. You people who are supernaturally literate probably already knew that. As a hunter, I promised myself that I would never do such a thing, since I knew the price of doing so. But my mom was battling a really nasty case of cancer, and she was told she was gonna die. I loved her so much that I was willing to sacrifice my soul if she got to live a long, healthy, happy life. I did just that, and the demon I made the deal with seemed really pleased that Hell would be claiming a pretty well-known hunter soon.

   Fast forward ten years, and now I'm here. Standing towards the front of a ginormous line that leads to a desk. Someone's sitting at the desk, but I'm too far away to see his face.

   It's dark here. But not dark enough to where you can't see anything. Just dark enough for a chill to creep its way up your spine.

   I notice the line is moving a little, so I move with it. I can hear screams, and that startles me a little, even though that's what I expected from Hell. I sigh, nerves pressing on my chest. This is not gonna be a fun afterlife.

   Speaking of afterlife, I'm hoping that this line takes as long as possible. That way I won't have to spend it being tortured over and over again.

   No such luck with the line taking a while. It's moving quite fast now, and I have no choice but to move with it again. As I get closer to the desk person, I'm able to take in his appearance. He seems a bit short for a guy, but would probably still loom over me. He has a well-trimmed beard and he wears a very smug smile as he's talking to the new arrivals. Probably judging us. Ugh. Demons. Despite him being a demon, though, I find him quite attractive.

   Before I know it, I'm one person away from this desk guy. The sooner I talk to him, the sooner the torturing begins, so I'm thinking about booking it out of the line while flipping whoever this guy is off.

   Nah. The demons would catch me. And the torturing would probably be ten times worse. So, despite my nerves, I remain in line.

   Since I'm extremely close to this desk guy now, I can hear his voice.

   Wow. A stunning British accent laces his words as he talks to whoever's in front of me. I try not to stare at him in awe by averting my gaze to my feet.

   I'm so busy having a staring contest with my feet that I don't notice the person in front of me exit the line. I only realize that they did when the desk person says, "Next person, please." I look up, and he's smirking at me. Like he's mocking me for being a dingbat. Heat rushes to my face as I realize that I deserve to be mocked.

   I hurry up to the desk as this mystery guy assesses me with his piercing eyes. "Hello, gorgeous," he says in that accent of his, smiling a little at me.

   I try to keep my composure. He's a demon. Demons are assholes. He shouldn't have this effect on me. "H-hi," I stammer, mentally slapping myself for stuttering.

"Would this lovely lady give me her name?" he asks, clicking a pen so that the tip pops out.

"(Y/N) (L/N)," I answer immediately. Damn. Normally I'd be a bit more snarky with a demon.

The demon writes down my name on a piece of paper with what looks to have a hundred names on it already.

"What's your name?" I blurt out. Another mental slap. Why am I having a normal conversation with a demon in Hell?

The man at the desk looks surprised that I asked. Once he recovers from his shock, his smirk comes back. "Crowley. King of Hell. Pleasure to meet you, darling."

Wait wait wait wait.

This dude is the King of Hell?

That's even worse! I haven't even been having a conversation with your average, run-of-the-mill demon! I've been having a conversation with a LITERAL EVIL OVERLORD. Not only is that completely stupid of me, but it's very intimidating.

"Oh..," I mumble, a bit scared.

   A beautiful chuckle escapes the man in front of me called Crowley. "Intimidated, are we?" he asks, smiling. Wow. He read my mind like a book.

   I know better than to admit weakness to a demon, let alone the King of Hell. "No." I answer a little too quickly, and a little too nervous-sounding.

   "Right," Crowley says sarcastically, taking pleasure in my fear of him.

   "Wait, if you're the King, why are you writing all our names down? Isn't there supposed to be a lower class demon that does that? Aren't you supposed to be chilling on a throne doing nothing?" I ask. I don't know why it matters. I'm curious, is all. I then decide to give a little jab to show that I am most definitely not afraid of this Crowley fellow, even though I very much am. "You seem like the kind of King who would do that."

   Something appears in Crowley's eyes that I can't describe. He smiles, amused. "You're a feisty one, aren't you?" He laughs a little to himself. "You really know how to please a King. That will serve you well in your time here."

   I don't know what he means by that, but somehow, those words make my nerves subside a little.

   "But to answer your question, the lower class demon that you mentioned had some business to attend to," Crowley says. "And I wanted to scope out the new arrivals." He looks me up and down. "And I'm glad I did."

   I don't know how to respond to that, so I don't.

   "Anyway, if you know, why were you damned to Hell?" Crowley asks, tapping his pen on the desk.

   "Crossroads demon deal," I mumble.

   "Ah," Crowley responds, jotting that down next to my name. "Rookie mistake. Didn't think you'd be so...idiotic to accept a deal with a demon."

   "Can it, asshole," I hiss. "My mom was about to die! I still don't regret the deal that I made!"

   His eyes widen at how I snapped at him. After a few seconds, that smirk comes back. I wanna punch it off his face. But I can't. "Let's see if that changes. It's bound to. This place will break a delicate flower like you. Hell is no cakewalk, sweetheart."

   "Delicate flower my ass! I've hunted your kind for twenty years and came out fine every time!" I shout.

   "Mm! Very feisty." Crowley smiles. "I think that'll be about it for us as of now. I'll see you very soon, beautiful."

   I open my mouth to say "go to Hell" but realize we're already there. So I try to think of something else offensive to say while trying to pretend the word "beautiful" in reference to me didn't make me a small bit happy.

   Crowley notices how I'm staring at him with my mouth open but not saying anything. "What's the matter, dear? Cat got your tongue?" he taunts.

   After a few more seconds of this, I growl and stomp away to where everyone else is who has been checked in. It's just a cluster of people in a random spot of the room.

   I try to ignore Crowley's beautiful but sickening laughter as I walk away.

~~~

Hello! Thank you for stumbling across this book! Everybody loves the King of Hell, so I decided to write about him! I hope you guys like this book!