His Favorite Plaything~ (Crowley x Reader)

Chapter 5: I Accept

   I'm side by side with the King if Hell as we walk back to my cell. Which is something I never thought I'd say prior to meeting Crowley. The silence is deafening between us, so I break it with:

   "Why did you help me, Crowley?"

   The one and only looks over at me. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to accept my offer regarding you being my servant, since you've gotten a taste of what your time here will be like. A born leader of Hell being tortured is sad to think about. And you won't go through that anymore." He raises an eyebrow. "If you choose to accept, of course."

   I huff. This topic again. I know I said that I wouldn't accept no matter what, but the want to do just that is absurdly strong. Knowing that I'll have to go through what I went through a few minutes ago every day makes me sick to my stomach. "Crowley, I..."

   I don't finish, and that causes him to look at me expectantly, waiting for me to finish my thought.

   I eventually find the words I want to say. "I want to. More than anything. But I've already told you: It wouldn't be right of me..." I'm beginning to care less and less about that. And that scares me.

   "Listen, sweetheart, no one's asking you to be saint," Crowley says, his tone much softer than I've ever heard it before. "This is Hell, after all. And sometimes, we just have to do what's necessary in order to thrive."

   I guess he's right. But that doesn't make me feel any less guilty about the horrible decision that I'm getting closer and closer to making. "You have a point, I suppose. But—"

Crowley stops walking, so I stop as well. I'm about to ask why he stopped when he grabs both of my hands, staring into my eyes. "But nothing," he says quietly. "Hell could really benefit from a person like you. Strong, brave, empathetic... You could change this place for the better. You'd be doing others, as well as yourself, a service."

My breath hitches. Compliments coming from the King of Hell? I don't know if I'm buying it. Maybe he's lying just so that he can rope me in and make me his little toy. Maybe he'll make me think that I'm helping, but will really be holding me on strings, manipulating my every move.

But something about his gaze tells me he's sincere. Something about the way he strokes my fingers with his thumb tells me that he means it.

But I still have one question.

"What could I possibly do to help?" I breathe, a bit stunned at the sudden hand-holding session. "I mean, I can think of one thing, which is stopping torture. But that's what Hell is. That's how it was meant to be. It's punishment for the wicked."

Crowley softly bites his lower lip, his gaze moving from my eyes to the ceiling in thought. "A lot of things. Maybe fairer treatment to everyone down here can result from you being my servant. Maybe you can help us demons to resist attacking humans. Maybe you can ultimately stop the evil things we have planned."

All of that sounds wonderful. I'll have control over what happens here, to an extent, if I accept this position.

Still, a voice in the back of my mind is telling me that Crowley's lying. Demons aren't exactly known for being truthful. "How do I know you're not lying?" I ask.

There's a minute of silence, and Crowley lets go of my hands. "I guess you don't. But I don't think you want to say no to this. Because if I am telling the truth and you say no, a knife is going into you every day. For. No. Reason." With each word, Crowley pokes my stomach, making me huff angrily and step away from him.

I sigh, realizing he's right. Even if he is lying, what have I got to lose?

"Have you considered being a crossroads demon?" I chuckle. "Because that persuasion would serve you well in that department."

Crowley smiles. "Been there, done that. Being King is much better. More entertaining." He stuffs his hands in his pockets and tilts his head to the side with a smirk. "So, what'll it be, darling?"

   I'm silent as I think it over (again). It's almost as if  my brain has two parts and they're engaging in a fight. There's lots of yelling and lots of good points being brought up.

   I won't have to be tortured anymore.

   Crowley's probably gonna just use me to help him destroy Earth without me even knowing it.

   I might be able to make things better around here.

   If I accept, it'll be apparent how weak I am.

   I shut my eyes, biting my lower lip. Then, in a moment of pure selfishness, I blurt out, "I accept."

   I open my eyes, and guilt immediately settles in my chest. Is it too late to go back on this?

   Crowley smirks. He snaps his fingers, and my hands and feet are suddenly tied together with rope.

   That son of a bitch.

   I stumble backwards in disbelief, and since my feet are tied up, I begin to fall. Crowley catches me, his disgusting smile becoming wider. "Easy, there, darling," he coos. "We're just gonna take a small field trip to my office, all right?"

   "You lied! You're just gonna use me!" I yell angrily, beginning to fight Crowley as he holds me in his arms. I had a suspicion of this happening, but that doesn't make me any less pissed about it.

   "Guilty," he chuckles. "Just a little lesson for you, love: Never trust the King of Hell." He scoffs. "As a hunter, I thought you'd know that."

   He then snaps his fingers again, and the room begins to blend together in a mesh of red and black. I shut my eyes, the change in surroundings making me a bit dizzy.

   After a few seconds, I feel a slight rise in temperature. I open my eyes, and we're in what is apparently Crowley's office. There's a desk in the middle of the room, and all sorts of weapons are laid upon it. A shiver makes its way down my spine as I look to the left of the desk, and there's a beautiful, king-sized bed there. The sheets are red to match the walls of the room, and the pillows are white. Why the King of Hell needs a bed, I'll never know.

   Oh, wait. Never mind.

   I then look to the right of the desk, and there's a white couch with red pillows existing there. On the wall that the couch is facing hangs a TV.

   There's also a solitary chair that is facing the desk. That's probably for me. I continue to fight as Crowley walks me over to that chair. "Fighting won't help you, darling. Although, your attempt is amusing."

   I growl as he sets me in the chair. I think about just wiggling off and face-planting, but with a snap of Crowley's fingers, I'm bound to that chair. I groan in anger and annoyance.

   Crowley makes his way over to his desk. He sits down, propping his head up from under his chin with his interlocked fingers. His eyes show pride and excitement about what he managed to do. "So, let's talk about what's really gonna happen," he says, smirking.