#hair tie snapped or got sliced ig

[nibeul]

helm's deep

[id in alt]

[maria-akira]

good girls don't get used: michael langdon x fem! reader — PART 2

—♡—

READ PART 1 HERE

summary: michael langdon, your ex, falls into a bet wherein he needs to (fake) date you. if he falls inlove again, he loses, and doesn't get the prize.

warnings: making out, pre-smut???, michael as a tiktok fuckboy, + me not proofreading this hahah sorry

italicized bold words are direct lyrics from the song :)

please excuse any errors. enjoy!

—♡—

It had been a few hours since Y/N arrived at home. She changed into an oversized shirt and a comfy pair of shorts. To be honest, she has never tutored anyone before, except for her baby brother Aaron. With Aaron it was just 1+1 or 2x3, you know? The basics.

"Mom, someone's coming over tonight!" She called out from upstairs,

"Who will?"

Y/N didn't know what to say. Her parents knew about Michael, and how they broke up. She didn't want her mom to know that it was him who would be coming over. Why hide it? She'll see him anyways.

"Michael! Michael Langdon!" Y/N went downstairs to finally face her mom.

"Wait, your ex?"

"Yeah.."

Her mom laughed, "Oh my, looks like something's gonna happen~" She said in a sing-song tone while she prepared dinner.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Oh my goood mom! That was 2 years ago, he just asked if I could tutor him. Apparently, he's failing."

"He's what? Failing? Isn't he one of the top students in your batch?"

"Yeah, I honestly don't know what happened to hi—"

Ding Dong!

Oh my god, She felt her heart beating fast.

Y/N walked to the front door and opened it, and there he was. Michael Langdon in his grey sweatpants and black hoodie.

"Hey, Y/N." Michael greeted, giving her a smile.

Y/N looked him up and down,

"Hi." She gave him a sarcastic look and stepped out of the way, gesturing him to come in.

Y/N's mom squealed, "Oh my, Michael! Look how you've grown!" She squeezed him into a hug and it made Michael laugh.

Aaron came down the stairs to see what the fuss was about. When he saw Michael, he rushed towards him and hugged his thigh.

"Michaeeeelll!! You're here!" Aaron giggled

Aaron loved Michael a lot. When Y/N and Michael were still together, he would always play with him.

"Hey, slugger! Now you've grown alot too, huh?" Michael kneeled down to his height and ruffled his hair, "Yup! I'm a big boy now." Aaron said proudly with his chin up.

Slugger. That was the nickname Michael gave him.

"Is Michael staying over?" Aaron pouted and gave her puppy eyes.

Y/N panicked. How was she gonna explain?

"Well, he actually came over to study for school, but he—"

"Of course I'll stay over! Anything for you, slugger." Michael cut her off. Y/N widened her eyes, making a 'what the fuck are you doing?!?!' expression at him.

Y/N faked a cough, "Aaron, go stay with mom okay? Michael and I will be studying now."

Aaron whined and crossed his arms. "But I wanna play with Michaaael!!"

"You'll do that later. After all, he said that he'll be staying over." She looked over to Michael and gave him a sarcastic smile.

—

After a few moments of arguing with Aaron, Y/N and Michael finally went upstairs. "Your room changed alot." Michael said as he looked around her room for the first time in 2 years. Once Y/N shut the door, she stormed over to Michael.

"Langdon what the fuck was that down there?!?! I only allowed you to come over, not stay over! Where will you even sleep?!"

"In a bed, duh."

Y/N slapped his forehead, causing Michael to wince at the pain.

"Are you that stupid?! Sleep on the fucking floor!" She hid her face in her hands out of frustration, then lifting her head again. "You know what? Fuck it. I don't care anymore."

—

"So if you move negative four here, what will you get?" Y/N asked, pointing her pencil on the equation. It's now 8PM, Michael and her were studying the last subject for the day, which was Math.

Michael analyzed the problem, then wrote down the answer. "Fifty.. three?" He slid the paper to her direction. While Y/N was checking his solution, he received a message from Duncan.

Dunc 🖕🏻: how's tutoring going?

Michael: its fine ig, lmao im staying over 😴

Dunc 🖕🏻: yooo what?? where you gonna sleep?

Michael: beside her? idk im still gonna play video games with her brother so i guess i'll sleep beside her 😶

Michael: brb shes done checking my solution

"Michael," She called for his attention, He let out a hum in response. "Your solution is correct.. But to avoid confusion, change this into an arrow instead of an equal sign, because it isn't the final answer yet." Y/N pointed out his mistake and circled it with a mechanical pencil.

Michael smiled. despite this 'trying to get her trust back' thing, he thought that Y/N was adorable like this. Focused with academics. He admired her alot.

Y/N looked over at Michael, "Langdon, are you even listening?" She snapped her fingers in attempt to catch Michael's attention.

Michael went back to reality, "Yeah. I get it now, thanks Y/N." Michael got his paper back and saw all the check marks. While Michael was distracted with his paper, Y/N stood up and streched. "They're all correct?" He looked up at her and asked in fake disbelief. Y/N rolled her eyes, "Duh, what are all the check marks for, dimwit?" She furrowed her eye brows and made her way to the door.

She glanced over at the clock beside her mirror, it was already 8:15 PM. "Hey, we have to go down for dinner now." She looked over to him and opened the door. Michael stood up and made his way to the door, stopping by the mirror, "Damn, I'm hot." Michael said as he praised his reflection in the mirror. When Y/N heard this, she furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him.

"Yeah sure, maybe in a different planet." She insulted, playfully hitting his arm.

"Oh c'mon Y/N, you miss me." Michael leaned on the wall with the support of his arm. Y/N shut the door.

"What makes you say that, Langdon?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the door.

"I've seen the way you look at me, baby. Admit it, you miss me, you wanna kiss me, you wanna be mine all over again."

"Don't hit me with your 'say you miss me, say you wanna kiss me.' shit, Langdon. I'm not that stupid," Y/N pulled on the neckline of Michael's hoodie, signalling him to come closer. Now, their faces were a few centimeters apart.

"Let's face the facts here, Langdon. Actually? you want me." She pulled him even closer, her lips ghosting over his. Michael moved closer in attempt to kiss her, yet to no avail. Y/N smirked and pushed him away. "You know, you're better than that." She gave him a little tap on the cheek and left the room, slamming the door in his face.

Michael was speechless. Y/N did change, a lot.

—

"So what brings you here, Michael?" Y/N's father asked, eating a slice of steak that was on his plate. "I'm currently failing some of my classes and I asked Y/N if she could help me. Luckily, she agreed." Michael looked over to Y/N and gave her a smile. She kicks him under the table, causing him to flinch.

"Will you be staying over, Michael? It's getting late." Y/N's mother asked this time, "If that would be okay with you, Mrs. Y/L/N." Michael replied, looking over to Y/N again.

Well, let's say that everyone looked at Y/N after Michael said that.

The silence made Y/N glance at them, "Why are you all looking at me..?" She said in a confused tone, her mom shot her a 'is it okay if he sleeps in your room' look. Y/N sighed, "Fine, he'll sleep in my room." Now, everyone went back to what they were doing.

After dinner, Y/N's mom called up Michael's parents to inform them that he would be staying for the night.

Y/N was washing the dishes tonight, and of course Michael volunteered to help her.

"Why did you even volunteer? You hate washing dishes, Langdon." She said as she cleaned a dirty plate with the soap filled sponge.

"Oh c'mon, Y/N. Can't I change?" He replied, rinsing one of the dishes that Y/N cleaned.

Y/N scoffed, "You? Change?"

Michael elbowed her side, "Hey, I did change!"

"Whatever." She went back to what she was doing cleaned the rest of the dishes, ignoring Michael's statement.

After a few more dishes, her hair started to slip away from the loose ponytail she made earlier. Her hands were slippery and full of soap, if she were to wash her hands and fix her hair, then go back to washing the dishes, her hands would be wet again. Plus, the drying towel was on Michael's side. So she asked for his help.

"Michael," Her voice was soft. Softer than usual. "Yea?" Michael replied, still rinsing the dishes.

"Can you please tie my hair up? It's slipping away."

"Hold on." Michael shook the water off his hands and dried it using the towel beside him, while Y/N turned her back over to his direction. Michael removed the hair tie and bit on it. He started gathering her hair from the top, combing his fingers through her soft, silky hair. He was very gentle. After he gathered her hair, he removed the hair tie from his teeth and tied her hair, careful not to tug too hard.

Y/N turned around to face him, "Hm, maybe you did change," Michael was curious when she paused. "Because you used to be so aggressive when you tied my hair." She joked and finished off the dishes that were left.

—

It's now 11 pm. Michael is in Aaron's room playing video games, and Y/N is alone in her room, doing some extra school work that was due for next week.

Like any other Friday night, girls like Y/N's age would be out partying like there was no tomorrow. After that one time she was really drunk and a guy touched her inappropriately, she never went out partying again.

Once Y/N finished her school work, she decided to take a shower. She wanted to take advantage of Michael's absence and stay in the shower longer than usual. Like a typical teenage girl, she would blast music in the shower, dancing and singing like she had a whole audience to perform for.

Y/N wrapped a towel around her body and left the bathroom to get her clothes from the dresser. Little did she know, Michael was back from her brother's room.

"I see you still have that body, huh?" Michael smirked and looked her up and down. Y/N turned around to see Michael on her bed. Her instincts told her to scream and throw an object at him, so she did.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!"

"Chill, it's not like you haven't sent me your nudes before." Michael dodged whatever she threw at him and laughed.

"Yea, and I regret sending those to your ugly ass. If I could turn back time, I would've sent them to your hot bestfriend, Duncan was it?" She turned around again to get her clothes from the dresser. Michael walked over to her and grabbed her neck from behind,

"What did you fucking say?" He growled in her ear. She smirked and bat her eyelashes innocently at him.

"I said, I would've sent them to Duncan. You should set me up with him, hm?" Y/N knew what she was doing, "Aww, is little Mikey getting jealous?" She mocked in fake sympathy. She removed his hand from her neck, turned around to face him and gave him a pout. 

Michael was furious. What has gotten into him? He doesn't even love her. He just fell into a stupid bet just to fuck some girl's pussy after he fucks with her ex's feelings. But why does he feel like this? Like he needs to have Y/N only for himself?

Before Y/N went back to the bathroom to get dressed, she just had to get on Michael’s nerves again, as if she wasn’t already. At this point, she could literally see fire in his eyes. He was really mad. But why?

"Look at you, Mikey. You can't respond when you react." She giggled and gave him a quick nose boop as the cherry on top for her little act. But she wasn't getting away so fast. When she turned her back on him, Michael aggresively wrapped his hand around her neck and pulled her, securing an arm around her waist.

"Where do you think you're going, you little shit? You aren't getting away easily after that stunt." The grip on Y/N's throat slowly tightened. "W-Wh... Why are you so mah-d.. Huh?" She managed to choke out.

Michael left soft kisses against her neck, while slowly loosening the grip on her throat. "See, Mikey? You're the one who misses me." Y/N whimpered, using her free hand to pull on Michael's hair in hopes of prying him off, but he was stubborn. Y/N whispered in his ear, "Whatever it is you're trying to do, Langdon, I'll never give in." She pushed her elbow into his ribs, causing Michael to groan. Finally, Y/N goes back to her bathroom to get dressed.

Once she leaves, Michael punches the nearest wall in frustration. He hated rejection. The girls that he usually fucked with never turned him down, they always wanted more. Why wouldn't it work on Y/N?

Michael sat on the long side of her bed, still thinking about what happened earlier. He couldn't believe that she could play with him like that. It made him look like he was the desperate one, which he is.

He took out his phone to text Duncan about what happened.

Michael: yo dunc, something happened

Dunc 🖕🏻: what happened? slr i'm at a party

Michael: bro she's a tough little shit. i did the usual thing that i would do to another girl, she didn't give in at all. instead, she's playing with me.

Dunc 🖕🏻: lmao man step up your game, she isn't your usual girl

Michael: dumbass you think i'm not?

Dunc 🖕🏻: duh??? if you were actually stepping up your game then you would've fucked her there and then 🙄

Michael: whatever.

Once he heard her bathroom door open, he immediately hid his phone back in his pocket. He looked over his shoulder to see Y/N already dressed in her pajamas. Michael didn't know what to do. His angelic side says to 'go and say sorry', yet his devilish side says to 'try harder and fuck with her feelings even more.' Of course, it was obvious what is choice was.

Y/N plopped herself on the bed and grabbed her blanket that was near Michael. She then placed the blanket over her and locked eyes with him.

Michael crawled beside her and placed the blanket over him as well. They are a few inches apart. Y/N turned the TV on, clicking on Netflix. Though she tried her best to ignore Michael, she can't help but think about what happened earlier. She liked it. No, she loved it. She loved the fact that she was able to get on Michael's nerves, and how he reacted to it. It was hella attractive to her, and the smell of Michael's perfume wasn't helping her either.

Now, Y/N was watching some cartoon show that she loved. "Are you kidding? You still watch cartoons?" Michael complained, gesturing at the TV. "Yea? What about it? I bet you only watch porn." She shot back and pulled the blanket towards her, leaving Michael without it.

Michael laughed, "I just can't believe a girl like you would watch cartoons. I find it cute." He pulled the blanket towards him, sticking his tongue out to tease her.

A few minutes passed by and Michael was on his phone, scrolling on TikTok. The same sound that kept repeating for almost a minute caught Y/N's attention. Was he watching the same video?

Y/N paused the TV and looked over to Michael's direction, averting her gaze to his phone. She took a good look at the video. a shirtless boy with a gold chain, with LED lights in their room.

"You've been watching that video over and over again, Langdon. Do you like him or something?"

"Yea, I like myself."

Like myself? Oh my god, no.

"What do you mean..?" That can't be him in the video.

"That's me."

Y/N's mouth dropped, "Wha— huh? How? I mean, yeah.. but?"

Michael let out a laugh that he had been holding in, "But what? Look, I'll show you." He handed her his phone, which allowed Y/N to have a closer look of the video.

"So you're telling me you blew up on tiktok by thrusting a phone on your pelvis??" Y/N stared at the amount of likes, a fucking million.

"Uh, yeah? That's how TikTok works? Look at the comments." Michael tapped the comments icon and Y/N scrolled through it.

'yo im down bad 😫'

'can we keep him a secret pls'

'chill i have a bf..'

'break my back 🤪'

Y/N bursted out in laughter, "Oh my god, if only they knew." she gave his phone back and Michael looked at her with a puzzled look.

"Knew what?" He asked, "You couldn't even 'break my back' two years ago, Michael!" She said in between giggles. "That was two years ago, Y/N! Two fucking years. I was a virgin!" Michael defended himself, then immediately realizing what he said.

Y/N wasn't aware that she was Michael's first.

"Wait Y/N, the last part isn't tru—"

She smirked and grabbed her phone from wherever she left it. She opened Twitter and decided to tweet about what Michael said, just for fun.

just wanted to let yall know that @m_langdon admitted that 2 years ago he lost his virginity to me 🤩

"What are you typing and why are you smiling?" Michael asked with a hint of fear in his voice. He feared that Y/N would do something that would tear his reputation down.

Y/N gave him a mischievous grin, "Oh nothing, just tweeted about what you said."

Michael's face fell, and Y/N hit the tweet button.

"Did you twee—"

"Yeah, go check your Twitter. I tagged you too."

Michael shot her a slight glare and went to his Twitter.

Y/N's tweet already had 5 retweets, 14 likes, and 8 replies.

"You did not." Michael said, shocked at how she would do something like this. "Ooh sorry babe, I just did." She faked a pout and formed a letter 'L' with her hand.

Michael felt embarrassment fill him, he wanted to scream at her so bad. He never thought that she would go this far. She was never like this.

He took a deep breath, "Why did you tweet that?"

"And you have the audacity to ask why?"

"Delete that tweet, Y/N." His voice was demanding and dark.

"Or what?"

Michael slowly started to kneel on the bed and hover over her. "You don't want to know."

Y/N smirked and fixed her posture, "Infact, I'd like to know. Care to tell me?” 

Michael clearly wasn’t having any of her shit, he was more than angry. He wanted to release all of his frustrations, and he was gonna do that. 

He trapped her by placing a leg on each side of her left thigh. Surprisingly, Y/N did not shrink against the headboard of the bed. She remained in her place. Their faces are centimeters apart now, 

“Now what, Langdon? Just gonna stare at me? Pathetic shit.” She cupped his face and stroked his cheek mockingly, then dragging her thumb against his bottom lip. 

“Shut the fuck up.” Michael swatted her hand away and crashed his lips again hers. The kiss was so intense, Michael hasn’t kissed any girl like this, it was a foreign feeling for him, and especially for Y/N. Michael’s free hand started roaming throughout her body, tickling her soft flesh. Meanwhile, Y/N was tugging on Michael’s hoodie, “Take this off.” She pulled away from the kiss and gasped for air. Michael took off his hoodie and revealed his naked chest infront of her.

Y/N felt weak. She wanted to fight this feeling so bad, which was lust. But it was too late.

"Fuck me, Michael.." Y/N whimpered, ashamed of her current state. Michael ran his thumb over her bottom lip, "What was that? I didn't catch it." He pouted, teasing her. Y/N couldn't believe herself. She promised herself that she would never fall for any of Michael's antics, yet here she is— completely submitting to him.

Y/N cleared her throat, "Fuck me please.." Michael cocked his head to the side, amused. He was enjoying this. He loved it so much. He finally had Y/N where he wanted her to be, wrapped around his little finger.

Michael's lips ghosted against her cheek, his breath warming up her skin. "Gladly."

And it begins now.

—♡—

this took me like 3 weeks im sorry 😔 nonethelEEEESSSSS i enjoyed writing this despite some breakdowns here and there <3

tags (ily all sm <3): @kitwalker02 @angelicmichael @deademobitch @iheartfrogs101 @tatestripedsweater @mrs-march-ahs @no-mercy-bby @hawtghostgirl @vixemi @antichristwifey @bitchchatter @fallwiththesun @booksandfandomsarelife1 @roseelizabeth666 (im sorry if i missed anyone!!)

—♡—

[supernaturalfreewill]

Words: 4,215 Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader Warnings: language A/N: This is the second part of a mini-series! Read Part 1 here!

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Cas arrived in the bunker in the late afternoon and first checked the library and the kitchen. There was no sign of you, so he rushed farther inside, calling your name and receiving only lonely silence in response.

”Y/N?” His footsteps echoed up the hallway. “Y/N!” Nothing. Finally he noticed the cold light beneath Sam’s door and he knocked hard. “Sam!”

Sam was laying on his bed, propped up on one elbow. His hair was disheveled, mirroring how Cas’s tie and trench coat were askew, which the younger Winchester found more alarming than the angel’s yelling had been a moment before. “What is it?”

Cas felt a knife to his heart at the heavy circles and haunted look on Sam’s face. ”When did you last see Y/N?” the angel asked desperately.

”Uhh, just before I went to sleep. Last night, when you were here,” Sam said, now sitting up on the edge of his bed. “What’s going on?”

Cas’s brow was heavy. “That was almost two days ago. You didn’t see her this morning? Or yesterday?”

Sam mouthed wordlessly and glanced at his phone on the nightstand, picking it up to look at the date and time. “I thought it was still morning now—I—Cas? What’s happening?” Now a sick feeling was growing in Sam’s stomach as Cas rubbed a hand over his mouth and paced in a quick, tight circle before settling himself again.

”I caught wind of something. I believe that Crowley has Y/N and is going to…” he trailed off.

Sam’s face was desperate and he hung with horror on the angel’s words. “Going to what? Cas. Tell me. What’s happening?”

”I think Crowley is trying to turn Y/N into a demon.”

The words hit Sam like a punch in the stomach and he felt the air rush from his lungs, leaving him winded and sick. He tried wrap his mind around what the words Cas had just said would actually mean. You. A demon. With Dean gone you were all he had—and now… His hazel eyes were wide and glistening as he looked up at Cas, dumbfounded. How could he possibly get both of you back when he couldn’t even save Dean? His mouth fell partially open and his eyes were unseeing. He felt his hands begin to shake and he smoothed them over his sweatpants, his palms sweaty.

Cas watched Sam spiraling with the news. “Sam,” he said, trying to call him back to the present and out of whatever reeling thoughts he was being consumed by. “Sam!”

Still Sam sat motionless on the edge of the bed, seemingly staring at nothing, his expression hopeless and vague.

”Sam!” Cas yelled, grasping the youngest Winchester firmly by his shoulders. It was enough to call him back to the present. “It is time to pull yourself up. Y/N has been here for you this whole time. She’s been there for me and for Dean more times than I can count. And now we need to be there for her.” He stared deeply into Sam’s hazel eyes, still a little wide, and nodded. “Can you do that?”

The silence stretched for a moment and Sam admitted to himself that what he was chiefly feeling wasn’t anger, though that was there too, it was fear; fear of another loss. He couldn’t withstand another loss. Sam’s fist tightened. “Okay.” He managed to nod.

”And perhaps we will be able to save Dean at the same time.”

Sam nodded again and stood, though a little shakily. And despite most of his muscles feeling weak, his heart began bounding in strength again. He had a job to do.

_ _ _ _ _ _

”You’ve reached the cell phone of Dean Winchester, demon extraordinaire and your #1 call for a good time. You know what to do.” “Oh for the sake of all demonkind—this is ridiculous.” Crowley pinched the bridge of his nose and waited for the beep to sound. “Dean! It’s Crowley. This is urgent so if you could please get over here at your earliest convenience it would be much appreciated.” He hung up the phone and his eyes found you still bound in the chair in the middle of the room. He checked the time and realized it was time for the next injection.

For a brief moment the King of Hell hesitated. He had never actually turned a human to a demon this way before—by injecting demon blood. The idea of course came from his own time in the church with Sam—when he acquired a specific craving for the humanity Sam’s blood had given him… There was a vague worry in his mind that you wouldn’t survive this transformation. After all, you had a human soul still and he wasn’t sure what the demon blood would do to that. It was risky. Generally he much preferred the old way of centuries of torture in Hell before the humanity was stripped from the victim, but frankly in the current political climate and with the pressing issues troubling him (read: rogue demon Winchester) he didn’t have the time to wait.

He approached you with a syringe ready. He was cautious. Your head was slumped forward and your hands were limp in their handcuffs. There were already numerous needle marks on your arms from your previous injections.

Crowley was hoping you would stay unconscious for this one. Each time he injected you so far you had exhibited more pain than the last. It wasn’t that he was concerned about you, he told himself, it was just that—well, he didn’t like the way you looked at him afterward, like you were imagining dismembering his meatsuit.

Unfortunately for Crowley, you roused as soon as he touched your arm and your head snapped up. You glared at him with a savage light in your eyes. For a moment he thought it faded… You would pull in a few steadying breaths and it seemed to withdraw, but the next instant it would rise again and he would have to snap his fingers to restrain you so you were still enough for him to give the injection.

You cringed as the demon blood surged into your arm. It took all you had to suppress a scream of pain as it began to travel through your veins. It burned like a shot of acid. You could track its progress through you from the heat and scalding of it, setting your nerves on fire. You shut your eyes tight, simply hoping that you would pass out from the pain again before you couldn’t hold in your agony. You didn’t want to give Crowley the chance of any sick satisfaction… You began to tremble violently from head to toe, your jaw locking, your teeth clenching down on one of your cheeks involuntarily. A little trickle of blood leaked from the corner of your mouth.

Crowley stood in the middle of the room watching with wide eyes, the empty syringe still in his hand. “Y/N—stop that,” he growled. He thought perhaps you were putting on a show in hopes that he would relent. “Y/N!” But as he watched, your eyes rolled back in your head and you seized more violently—once—twice—three times. The syringe fell from the King of Hell’s grip and clattered on the floor. A crimson droplet leaked from between your lips again and ran down your chin. More blood flowed from deep wounds on your wrists where your bindings had sliced into your flesh during your fit. “Son of a—“ Crowley rushed over to you and lifted your limp head, examining your face, any pretense that he was unconcerned gone like a puff of smoke vanishing into the empty space surrounding you both. “Y/N!” He slapped your cheek and shook you. Your skin was feverish to the touch. Crowley released your face and your chin slumped to your chest. He grasped your shoulders in a last effort to rouse you, yelling your name, shaking you, but there was no modicum of a response evident.

Crowley released you yet again and hesitated as he leaned over you. His heart was thundering away in his chest. A long moment stretched where he simply hovered there, partially bent, hanging over your still frame. Finally, he gulped at the annoying lump in his throat and pressed a finger into the side of your neck, just below the jaw.

After a careful pause he staggered back.

There wasn’t a pulse. Not that he could feel.

But what did that mean? Was this just a necessary step as you were transitioning from human to demon? Or had his whole plan been a complete and utterly failed experiment that had just resulted in your death?

Crowley straightened up with a somewhat panicked feeling rising in his chest, tightening a band around his lungs.

It was just then, possibly the absolute worst time, when the King of Hell’s cell phone rang. He fished it out of his suit coat pocket absently, still studying your silent and motionless form slumped in front of him before allowing himself to glance down at the screen.

Incoming call – D. Winchester

”Bollocks…” Crowley muttered. He paced away toward the door—he wasn’t sure why… you weren’t going to be making any sound in the background--and pressed his phone to his ear. “You’ve finally decided to respond to my twenty or so messages,” Crowley said, irritation easily audible in his voice in the sharp edge on his words.

There was noise in the background on Dean’s end. It sounded like a boisterous pub. “Yeah, well, what can I say? Curiosity finally got the best of me.” Dean belched loudly into the speaker. “What’s so urgent, el capitán?”

Crowley wrinkled his nose at the burp. “Nothing I will be divulging or discussing over the phone. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll sober up and get here as soon as you can.”

”Aww, come on, Crowley,” Dean threw back another shot of tequila. “It’s all work and no play with you lately. Is this about management of the lower level again? Because I gotta say, the case you make for me helping you run things is not compelling.”

Crowley’s patience was wearing thin, but it was also somewhat tempered now with a twinge of worry. He couldn’t predict how this new demon version of Dean was going to react to the news that you were dead… The old Dean? Generally consistent in angry and righteous responses. But this one—absolutely unpredictable. One minute he could be singing ‘Living la Vida Loca’ and the next he gave you a look that suggested he had a long list of ways to destroy you filed away for a rainy day. “Just get here!” Crowley snapped. He ended the call abruptly and spun around again to take a look at your crumpled form at the other end of the room.

There seemed to be no change. If anything, the color in your face was graying. With another heavy sigh, Crowley conjured himself a chair (gold and scarlet cushioned throne, of course) and a substantial glass of Scotch and seated himself, facing your direction.

All he could do now was wait. For whatever would come.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Dean tossed back another shot of tequila and slammed the glass down on the bar. A curvy girl with long, glossy black hair slid her hand into his back pocket and Dean partially turned to give her a boyish grin. “Hey,” he said. “Getting handsy now, are we?” he said.

”Why don’t we get out of here, cowboy?” she whispered, her lips close to his ear. She bit her bottom lip and gave him an unmistakable look of desire. “My place is close.”

Dean took in her expression and flashed another grin. “I’d love to but I just got word that I’m needed elsewhere.”

Her face dropped. “What? Now?” She scoffed, somewhat recoiling from his rejection. “You’re wasted. Don’t lie to me. There’s no way you’re going into work now.”

Dean straightened up, the grin sliding from his face now too. “Who said anything about work? Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but I’m afraid tonight is over.”

”So, you just led me on all night, and now you’re just gonna leave?” she asked angrily.

Dean could feel his temper flaring. “I don’t remember making you any promises. It’s not like I agreed to pick out curtains,” he said dismissively. He turned back to the bar to pay his tab and dropped a healthy tip down just as a splash of cold liquid hit him in the neck and ran down his back and over his shoulders.

Dean froze, every muscle tensed, and his jaw clenched.

She’d thrown her drink on him.

He put his wallet back in his pocket and spun slowly on the spot to face her. She was standing there, looking pissed but self-satisfied, with her empty glass still in her hand.

Dean took a few measured steps toward her until he was close. She was breathing hard, presumably from anger at his dismissal of her. Dean peered down at her and she continued to scowl up at him.

But a blink and his eyes went from that deep and mesmerizing shade of green to solid black, and she gasped and stumbled backwards in fear.

The next moment when she looked back up, still off-balance, they were just as they had been all night; multi-faceted green irises.

The corners of Dean’s mouth flicked upwards in a smirk and he breezed out the door, leaving her wondering if she was just too drunk and had imagined it, or if what she had just thought she had seen had really happened.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Crowley’s phone began to buzz in his pocket and he shifted his glass of Scotch to the other hand so he could answer it. “Go,” he said. “Right. Of course. Send him down.” Crowley hung up hastily and downed the rest of his drink. He was on his feet in another instant, his throne disappearing with an absent wave of the hand, and he rushed to stand outside the door with one final glance at your form, now laid out on a metal table. You were no longer restrained—either you were actually, really, and truly dead, or you would awake as a demon, so Crowley didn’t see further need for shackles. Your hair fell away from your face exposing skin that was just too pale and too gray, and lips that normally had a warm blush to them were an unnatural blue.

Injection and track marks criss-crossed your arms, blemishes that remained as a result of Crowley’s perhaps ill-conceived plans.

But there was no taking them back now. There was only determining the next move.

The heavy door slammed behind him as faint footsteps echoed toward him from the long, dark hallway stretched out before the King of Hell’s feet. And Dean the Demon was the source.

He stopped when he reached Crowley, looking relaxed despite being summoned for some sort of urgent meeting. “You’re getting to be a real nuisance, you know that, Crowley?”

”Apologies,” Crowley replied. “But I think you’ll be glad you took time out of your busy schedule.”

”Well, what’s so important that you had to drag me away from my very full social calendar?” Dean inquired curiously. “And if this is another job pitch, I swear to Hell that I’m going to turn you inside out.”

Crowley cleared his throat. “Noted. But there’s something you need to see,” he said. With that, Crowley led Dean back through the heavy door and into the room where you were laid out in the center.

Now Crowley’s nerves were requiring quite a bit of focus to ignore…

Dean didn’t seem to register just who the body was in the middle of the room at first and he only glanced at it, somewhat puzzled, and gave a measured glance over his shoulder at Crowley. But as he moved closer with curiosity he came to rest, frozen, about ten paces away.

Crowley lagged back by the door. There was a heavy and uncomfortable silence that stretched as Dean only continued to stare at the laden table.

Finally he began to close the distance to you, his steps deliberate and steady, but somehow resistant, as if he didn’t want to get close enough to confirm what he thought he was looking at.

Crowley looked on with apprehension tinged with curiosity as Dean finally stopped at your side.

Dean’s brow drew down darkly over his green eyes and they floated over every inch of you, finally settling on your face; eyes closed, lips slightly parted, skin sallow. He raised a hand and reached out until his fingertips barely brushed your cheek. He withdrew immediately after contact—your skin was cold and it threatened to send a shudder through his chest. Next his hand drifted down to your arm and his eyes settled on the strange marks there.

A shadow deepened on his face and his gruff voice broke the silence. “What the hell happened?” he demanded of Crowley. But his voice was controlled. His hand was closed gingerly around your wrist and rotating your arm so he could examine the marks marring your skin.

Crowley cleared his throat. “I’m not entirely sure—“ He had barely gotten the words out before Dean was on him, slamming his back into the wall behind him, a strong hand gripping his throat.

Dean’s eyes were black, and rage boiled in the darkness. “Don’t. Lie. To me,” he growled through clenched teeth.

Crowley struggled to talk through the compression on his throat. “It wasn’t supposed to happen—accident--!” he sputtered.

”You killed Y/N!? You KILLED Y/N!” Dean pressed the King of Hell harder against the wall. “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU DOING?!”

Crowley managed to come to his senses enough to disappear from Dean’s grip, leaving him gripping only air which he quickly crushed into his fist, and reappear behind him. He held one hand up and rubbed at his throat with the other, out of breath, before straightening his tie. “I promise you, Squirrel, that Y/N’s death was not what I had intended…”

Dean stalked toward him, a fierce fire burning in his eyes still. “What you intended?” His voice was a growl but it the stifled rage was almost more threatening than his blatant attack. “What the hell were you doing? Why did you even have her? What are those marks on her?” he demanded.

Crowley held his ground. “I was trying to turn her into a demon!”

Dean seemed frozen again, but his glare had lost none of it’s potent fire. “Why?”

Crowley hesitated. He hadn’t forgotten Dean’s warning that if this was about helping him with hell he’d gladly rearrange his meatsuit. He shrugged, trying hard to remain nonchalant and appear unconcerned. “I just thought, considering how the two of you got on at your last little meeting, that this warranted further exploration. With a few minor adjustments.”

”Minor adjustments,” Dean repeated. “Abducting Y/N and trying to turn her into a demon is not minor.” His face darkened again. “And I warned you once, Crowley. Don’t. Lie. To me.”

Crowley knew he needed to concede. “Well, I’ll admit that I was hoping that I could use Y/N to persuade you to assist me with—“

Dean’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I knew it. This was all to compel me to help you with your insignificant, pointless, selfish plans with Hell. It’s not my fault you have an inferiority complex and weigh your self-worth based on the number of minions willing to shine your shoes! You idiotic, pitiful little--I should gut you right now—“ Dean started menacingly toward the King of Hell but found that Crowley suddenly wasn’t there. “And if you had turned her? You can’t even handle Y/N as a human. How were you going to control her as a demon?”

Now Crowley’s anger flared. “Can’t handle Y/N as a human? Am I confused or did I BLOODY WELL KIDNAP HER TWICE?! Right from under the nose of that vegetable brother of yours, mind you, and your ex-boyfriend with wings!”

Dean’s eyes went black. “You’re the King of Hell. You make deals all the time. You use whatever demon voodoo you have to and bring her back. Now,” he said. His tone was unmistakably an order and there was no veil over the threatening tone.

Crowley stood silently glaring back at Dean.

”I’m not asking you, Crowley.”

Crowley resumed his usual business-like tone. “Ahh, yes… Do you really think I didn’t consider that option before I called you here? Believe me, I’d rather have undone what I’ve done without you ever knowing about it. Do you think I was looking forward to bringing you here and explaining this to you? But--there seems to be a bit of a complication with bringing her back…”

”I don’t care if there are a hundred complications, Crowley! YOU FIX IT!”

“Yes, you see, I would… But I’m not entirely sure where she is or even what is happening.”

Anger swelled in Dean’s chest again. “What’s happening? I think the dead body on that goddamn table is pretty clear!”

Crowley was losing his patience with Dean’s yelling and attempts to boss him around. “By the time most humans go demon, they don’t have anything resembling a soul left. Y/N still had a human soul when I started the process. I’m not sure what happened to it, or what that would mean… And there still remains the possibility that this is just—part of the process. Your own transformation took some extended measure of patience, if you remember.”

But Dean wasn’t receptive to his excuses or pro-offered possibilities. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about any of that. I don’t care if Y/N is in Heaven, or Hell, or Purgatory, or fucking who-knows-nowhere-land. I don’t care if she does wake up as a demon,” he began. He was slowly stepping toward Crowley and so far the King refused to yield, refused to step back in the face of his advance. “I don’t care if you find a magic potion that turns her back to a human as good as new with only happy memories… The fact is you fucked up. Big time. You dragged her into this. You dragged her into something she shouldn’t be a part of. And I perfectly intend to take you apart piece by piece until you’re begging to go back to being Lucifer’s little puppy dog. Got it?”

It struck Crowley despite the warning rising in his mind how unusual this was… Dean, a demon, who rarely showed any thought for anything that couldn’t be poured as a double or invited back to a motel room for a no-strings-attached romp, was actually pissed that Crowley had nabbed you… This suggested that despite being a demon, buried deep down, Dean still felt something for you. And the fact that Crowley had shrewdly perceived that that connection still existed gave him only the tiniest measure of gratification under the current circumstances. And it also scared him. Because it reminded him of his own weakness and craving for humanity…

But Crowley only cleared his throat and straightened his coat and tie again. “Well. I suppose that is my cue.” And he was gone.

”CROWLEY!” Dean roared, though he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Crowley had disappeared as he was want to do at the slightest hint that a fight may not go easily his way.

And Dean was alone now with your corpse. Hatred was boiling in his stomach. He couldn’t turn and look at you again. Not yet. Not now. Dean let out a violent yell and smashed his fist into the concrete wall, leaving a dent the size of his fist.

He would deal with Crowley.

And he now realized he would probably also have to deal with Sam and Cas sooner rather than later. Crowley had snatched you, and he was willing to bet that meant that they couldn’t be far behind…

_ _ _ _ _ _

”What is it?” Sam asked, urgently, his hands gripping the steering wheel far harder than was necessary.

Cas had just shut his eyes and looked vaguely ill. He shook his head. “I’m—I’m not sure. Something isn’t right.”

Worry grew on Sam’s face. “What?”

Cas shook his head. “I’m not sure. It’s just a feeling.”

Sam’s face was panicked. “You have to give me more of an explanation than that, Cas.”

”It’s difficult,” the angel said, pressing a hand to his forehead like he had a growing pain behind his eyes. “It’s almost as if—something has shifted.”

”What do you mean? Something? What?”

”I’m not entirely sure. Like, something has changed in the balance of power.”

Sam’s throat tightened. “What is it? Y/N? Dean?”

”I don’t know. I suppose we will find out,” Cas said.

Sam’s jaw tensed and he slammed his foot down, pressing the pedal to the floor.