Tap. Tap. Tap.
I'm slowly going insane. The constant sound of Crowley tapping his desk with his fingers because he's got nothing else to do is annoying as hell. And I'm two seconds away from snapping at him. Of course, that wouldn't be a wise idea, but I'm strongly considering it.
But he stops before I have to verbally abuse him. "So," he begins, "how long do you have to keep an eye on me for?"
Wow. Is my presence that much of a nuisance to where he has to count down the seconds until I can leave?
My common sense tells me that that's probably not it. He wants to count down the seconds until I can leave because he wants to shoot some more blood.
"Until I feel that you won't turn back to blood again," I answer, keeping my eyes on his office's TV screen.
"That could take a while, love," Crowley responds, standing up from his desk, stretching, and sitting down next to me on the couch.
I look at him, smiling a small bit. "I know. But I said I would do this for you, so I'm gonna do it."
A smile tugs at the corners of Crowley's lips.
The very sight makes my stomach flip, and I'm considering smacking myself upside the head. But I don't, because that would look pretty strange from his point of view.
I notice that I've been staring at the smile on his face, and right as I'm about to look back at the TV screen, the smile fades, a puzzled expression replacing it as his eyes dart away from mine.
My eyebrows knit together in confusion, but I don't say anything. He looks thoughtful, so I let him think.
And finally, he speaks.
"Why?"
I think I know what he's trying to say, but I ask for clarification anyway. "Why what, Crowley?"
"Why are you being so...disgustingly thoughtful and kind?" he asks, looking at me again. "I've threatened to do unimaginable things to you, made you possess someone, and lied. And here you are, helping me overcome an addiction. Why?"
His compliments startle me. I can feel my eyes widen a little in surprise. The humanity in him is almost unsettling.
However, the truth isn't something I can tell him.
Sure, he's got some humanity in him, but that doesn't mean he's completely human. If I told him how I was doing this just to avoid being played with, he probably would keep doing it. If not now, once he gets sober.
"Um..," I begin, trying to come up with a believable lie. I eventually find one that'll suffice. "Just because you did bad things doesn't mean that I don't wanna help you. We've all done bad things."
Crowley gives a breathless laugh. "I don't believe it..," he says. "You had to have had some ulterior motive."
Yes, I did.
But what actually comes out of my mouth is, "I didn't. I swear."
He assesses my face, looking for some kind of sign that I'm lying. He must not have found one, because his expression relaxes a considerable amount. "Huh."
Holy crap, I'm a good liar.
A smirk crosses his face as he assesses me once more. This time, my entire body. "You know, ever since I brought you to my office for the first time, I knew that you were gonna be my favorite pet."
I don't know why, but this sends a bit of color to my cheeks. "Is there a specific reason as to why?"
"You're just so unlike anybody that's ever associated themselves with me down here," Crowley responds. "Everybody that sees me literally bows at my feet. And sometimes that's enjoyable. But other times, I crave someone different." He smiles. "And you're the different person that I needed. You're witty, kind, sassy in just the right ways..," he trails off, his eyes scoping me out one final time. He sighs. "Not to mention gorgeous..."
If my face was flushed before, then it must be a tomato right about now. Come on, (Y/N). Snap out of it. You don't like this attention.
Maybe I'm not a good liar, after all.
"Th-thank you," I get out, smiling shyly.
Maybe Crowley being human isn't so bad.
The man himself then reaches out to me. I try not to flinch, since demon contact still makes me a bit nervous. But I shouldn't be, because instead of hitting me like many, many other demons have, he tucks a stray piece of (h/c) hair behind my ear.
What. The. Shit.
Once he retracts his hand, I'm tempted to grab it back. But I don't. I can feel the ghost of where his hand was, and it's disgusting how much I want him to touch me again.
I notice that his face is a lot closer to mine than it was before. The only sound that can be heard is the TV, and that has just become a distant mumble to me.
As he advances, I can feel his breath on my face. And it's gross how much I want to kiss him.
Stop, (Y/N). Move away. You're stronger than this. Move. Away.
But I don't. And before I know it, I feel incredibly soft lips on mine.
My body instantly reacts, but not in the way that I was planning. I kiss back and pull Crowley closer to me, my arms wrapped around his neck.
What the hell?! Why am I doing this? This is wrong! Pull away! Pull! Away!
My body isn't letting me. Something about the way his beard tickles my face and how his hands hold me tightly around my waist makes me never wanna let go. Something about the way our lips fit together perfectly makes me breathless...
But then, he pulls away, so I don't have to. His hands remain at my waist, and my arms remain around his neck. We're both panting softly.
There's a bit of silence between us. Much like before, I can't tell if it's comfortable or terrifying.
Crowley then speaks. "Wow..," he mumbles, removing his hands from my waist.
I release him as well. "Yeah..," I mumble back awkwardly. I can feel my heart fall as I realize that this is most definitely the result of his intake of human blood. This can't be something that he'd normally do.
Maybe I'm high off of blood too, because this sure as shit is something that I wouldn't normally do. If I walked up to my past self and told her that she'd be kissing the King of Hell once she goes down there, past (Y/N) would probably backhand me.
And I'm very, very, very close to doing that now.
Crowley cups my face with his hand, his tongue peeking out from behind his lips to lick them.
Everything about him has me entranced as I lean into his hand.
He notices this gesture and smirks. "You'll make a splendid pet, kitten," he says lowly.
And just like that, he removes his hand from my face and stands up. He stalks off to his desk and plops down into it, not saying anything else. He takes out his cell phone and begins to play on it.
I'll make a splendid pet.
The word "pet" should make me angry. He doesn't own me.
But it doesn't, and no matter how hard I try, I can't help the happy butterflies from flapping around in my stomach, nor the raincloud that hovers in the back of my mind, telling me that this was all because of the blood and that he'll regret saying and doing what he did once he's sober.
A small sigh escapes me.
Who knew that Hell would have this whole thing in store for me?
YOU ARE READING
His Favorite Plaything~ (Crowley x Reader)
Fanfiction(Y/N) (L/N) was one of the poor souls who were damned to Hell. She had made a deal that required her soul in return, and, at the time, she thought her soul was worth the price. The King of Hell, Crowley, seemed to take a liking to her while she was...
