His Favorite Plaything~ (Crowley x Reader)

Chapter 8: The Winchesters

   Am I dreaming? God, I hope so. I really don't wanna be gathering information for a pathetic excuse of a King and possessing someone to do it. I also really don't wanna have to risk being around these so-called Winchesters. If they find out I'm a demon, my ass is as good as dead (again).

But before I associate myself with the Winchesters, I've gotta plan out a way to get them to give me the information.

Or, maybe that's not even necessary. Maybe if I act like a lady that needs a place to stay because of sad circumstances, they'll take me in. And I can search for the information late at night while they're asleep.

I nod to myself, that plan sounding pretty reasonable. Not needing to sleep comes in handy in some moments.

My nerves not letting up, I strut over to the bunker's door. I squeeze out a few fake tears and put on a sad expression before knocking.

   A tall, muscular man opens the door. He's got long, brown hair that falls just above his shoulders and very pretty eyes.

   This must be Sam.

   "Hey," he says, looking at my "sad" self with a concerned expression on his face, "are you okay?"

   Time to do some good acting.

   "U-um... I guess so..?" I stutter, making sure my voice wavers a bit. I sniffle. "M-my boyfriend just hit me... I n-need a place to stay... I can't stay with h-him anymore..."

   Sam's eyes soften. I can already tell that he's the type to do anything to help anyone. "You can stay here if you want! Me and my brother don't mind!"

   It's all going according to plan.

   "Thank you so m-much..!" I say, smiling a bit.

   "Who is it, Sam?" a deep, gruff voice asks from inside the bunker.

   "Come see," Sam responds, glancing behind him.

   Sam steps to the side as I see the basic pretty boy that Crowley was speaking of come up to the door to study me. He's shorter than Sam but taller than Crowley, he's got a small amount of stubble on his face, and the greenest eyes I've ever seen in my entire life.

   Dean.

   He assesses me with those brilliant eyes of his. He sees how sad I look and asks, his voice soft, "What's your name?"

   Something about Dean's hard demeanor makes me think that it'll be a bit harder to gain his trust. Behind those green eyes, I can see a traumatic past that affects his relationships.

   "(Y/N)," I answer. There's no point in trying to hide my name. If they refer to me as Rebecca, I'll forget that that's who I'm identifying as and will look strange.

   "She needs a place to stay," Sam says to Dean. "Her boyfriend hit her. I told her that we wouldn't mind letting her stay here for a bit."

   Dean looks at Sam warily, obviously not wanting me here. Rude.

   Sam looks back at him, his eyes telling him to let me stay. I'm already liking Sam. He's gonna make my job a lot easier.

   Dean sighs. "Sure. You can stay here."

   I smile, wiping my tears. "Th-thank you both so much!" I consider hugging them, but realize that that's just weird, considering we just met.

   Sam nods with a soft smile, and Dean nods with a stony expression. Jesus, this guy needs to lighten up.

   They both step to the side so I can enter the bunker, which I do.

   Wow!

   It's huge! I look around, smiling a bit.

   My eyes then fall on a bunch of bookshelves. Each of them are completely filled with books. There's gotta be some on purgatory there!

   Satisfied, I turn back to the Winchester brothers. Dean is watching me carefully while Sam kicks the door closed, pity on his face.

   "This place is gorgeous," I say happily, the fact that my voice isn't my own just as disturbing as before.

   "Thanks," Sam says awkwardly, grinning a bit. "Oh, I'm Sam, by the way."

   "Dean," Dean adds, studying me once more.

   "Nice to meet you both." I smile. It's mainly directed at Dean. I want to break the stony wall he's built around himself.

   Dean lets a small smile slip in return, his eyes softening a tad. Okay, maybe I can work with this.

   "I can show you to the guest room if you want," Sam says, gesturing in the general direction of the guest room with his thumb.

   "That would be nice," I respond, nodding at Sam.

   "Follow me then," he says, walking out of the room.

   I follow, taking in this unfamiliar building as we walk. The walk to the guest room is filled with uncomfortable silence. But I don't know how to break it, so I don't.

   The silent walk gives me time to think about the absurdity of all of this. I mean, I knew it was absurd before, but now that I'm thinking about it, it seems even more absurd. Taking orders from a demon, becoming a demon myself, and just strutting into two hunters' lives like I own them when they have multiple weapons that can hurt me and/or kill me. Tears threaten to fall, but I keep them in, even though Sam would probably just brush it off as me looking back on when "my boyfriend hit me".

   We finally get to the guest room, and Sam says, "We're here. Remember that you can stay here for as long as you need to."

   "Thanks, Sam. I owe you one," I say, stepping into the room and looking around. It's a pretty decent-sized room. The walls are painted gray, there's a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, and there's a ceiling fan that purrs quietly as it rotates.

   "No, you don't," Sam responds. "I promise."

   "Say what you want, but I'll make it up to you," I giggle, turning back around to face Sam.

   Sam chuckles, rolling his eyes. "Fine. I'll be waiting, then. Feel free to call me or Dean if you need anything. Dinner will be in a few hours, and we'll tell you when it's ready."

   "All right," I say, waving goodbye. There's no way I'll call Dean, I know that much.

   Sam waves also, smiling a small bit as he walks away.

   I then quietly close the door, throwing myself onto the guest room's bed afterwards. I sigh with relief, happy that my cover hasn't been blown yet. I kind of expected them to slosh some holy water on my face or something. Thank God they didn't. Not only would that have hurt like hell (get it?), it would've exposed me as a demon, and the mission wouldn't be completed. Who knows what Crowley will do to me if I fail?

   That thought sends a shiver down my spine.

   I won't ever know, though.

   Because I'm not going to fail.

   I won't let that happen.