#crowley's little accent and leg kick

[wearecrowley]

[squidwen]

🌳Babe in the Woods🌳

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Summary: Sometimes you just need to drop everything and go for a walk. With the mounting stress of trying to survive the school year the woods are a great place for peace.

However, you can’t seriously believe you’d be allowed downtime, right? Do you know where you are? Who you are? And that you forgot to do something for a certain Pomefiore…

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Dreary clouds clogged the sky, and Y/N’s mind wasn’t much better. Mulch squashed beneath their boots as they trudged through the woods; thoughts knocking about inside their skull. One after another. Relentless.

But amongst the arbour there were no overblots, Grim couldn’t embarrass them, and Crowley - with all his errands - were left back at NRC. It was truly a place where they could be at peace.

Seems a tree’s a tree no matter what world you’re from, they thought as they ran their hand across the grooved bark of a sycamore.

Finding familiarity in a world where nothing made sense was a relief. In fact, so familiar was this woodland that Y/N thought if they went back they wouldn’t see Ramshackle, but rather a National Park’s giftshop, or the family car – waiting to cart them off back home to their real life.

This isn’t what I was going for at all. Y/N kicked the path, sending dust and stones into the air. I’m not supposed to be thinking harder out here. A critter was disturbed in a bush nearby. Leaves rustled, but not enough to be a threat-

WHOOSH!

Y/N ducked as something whizzed past their ear. They could still hear the whistle of it, even after it embedded itself in the ground. What it was wasn’t up for debate: an arrow. With a flint head so sharp all of it disappeared into the earth.

“Quelle deçu,” someone muttered. Y/N jerked up. Their legs were giddy with adrenaline as they scanned the area. The treetops were empty, and the leaf piles weren’t big enough to hide a person. Had someone tried to shoot them? They weren’t going to let a second arrow answer.

After diving behind the thick trunk of an oak tree, they ran parallel to it. Whoever shot the arrow would have to reposition themselves for another shot. It was good enough cover, for now.

Lungs bursting, eyes bulging, nothing else mattered except distance. Get enough distance away.

•~•~•

Eventually, trees started to look familiar. The path became more worn. Y/N took a break, crouching with their hands on their knees. No one had followed them. Not a single footstep could be heard.

Perhaps it wasn’t an arrow that they saw? Maybe it was a sharp twig that had snapped off a branch? And as for a voice? Well, a wind had started up. It could have just been that.

Feeling more self-assured, Y/N took a hasty step towards the tree line when their feet left the floor.

Panic bulldozed through them. Writhing and twisting were useless as they were hoisted higher by a rope around their ankle. When they were about six feet up, the rope around their ankle went taught.

Someone started to laugh. “I have to give you credit for almost escaping me, ma cherie.”  

Y/N knew that French accent anywhere.

A shock of blond hair hopped out from behind a tree. Still riding the high from making a catch, Rook wasted no time in teasing Y/N. He swung them gently, pushing them a little higher each time they came back towards him.

“I’m going to be sick!”

Rook’s green eyes were sinister as they bore into Y/N’s. So malicious and devious. The look of a creature who has all the control and is only keeping their prey alive for amusement. Y/N hated the feeling. They struck out at the hunter, only for their wrist to be effortlessly caught and tied behind their back with the other.

At least the swinging stopped.

The knot was firm, executed in seconds. Rook briskly moved onto tying Y/N’s knees together. They kicked with vigour, screaming and cursing. Why was this happening?

•~•~•

Y/N didn’t engage with Pomefiores too much. Besides Epel who was part of their first-year troupe, Y/N only had business with Vil and Rook if they were asked to do a photo shoot…

“Vil has a tight schedule, Trickster,” Rook mused. “When you didn’t show up for the session we booked mon Roi de Poison sent me to fetch you.”

“So you did fire an arrow at me!”

Rook didn’t reply straight away. Securing Y/N’s legs together was top priority since. Prey backed into a corner can be more vicious than any predator.

“Pas du tout! I wasn’t aiming it at you. I was aiming for beside you. I wanted to spook you back towards the beginning of the woods where I’d laid my traps. I’m surprised you walked passed them in the first place. You lucky thing!”

Y/N heard the shing of a hunting knife being drawn. Panic. They twisted so frantically in their bindings that the skin on their wrists broke.

“Don’t damage yourself, ma Cherie.” Rook cut the rope around Y/N’s ankle. They plummeted, yelping, only to land on the hunter’s shoulder like slaughtered game.

Infuriated, they rammed their elbow towards Rook’s head, but the hunter evaded it and shifted Y/N further over his shoulder.

“This is ridiculous!” Y/N cried. “You could have just called me!”

“There’s no service in the woods. That is the beauté of it. It is untouched, unmarred by the influence of civilisation. An emerald amidst the grey stones of cities.”

•~•~•

Walking back to Ramshackle, Rook seemed in a world of his own. He stroked the bark and moss in a gentle caress. The other hand was clamped tightly around Y/N’s waist. They could feel taught muscles in the hunter’s forearms – toned sinew – a preview of the strength in his biceps and shoulders; strength no kicking or struggling could match in a million years.

“Besides,” added Rook, “I haven’t laid a trap for an animal bigger than a fox in a while. I don’t want my skills to go.”

“Great Seven bless Epel,” Y/N murmured.

“Quoi?”

“Nothing.”

Rook halted. Y/N’s chin hit his back.

Dread.

Why had they been so cocky? Regardless of how angry they felt, it was not a good idea to irritate their captor. Both of Rook’s calloused hands gripped Y/N’s waist and hoisted them off his shoulder. Rook’s eyes were cruel as he brought Y/N to his face. Cunning. But Y/N forced themselves to evade them and stick their tongue out instead.

Rook burst out laughing. “I love it when my prey is petty! I should hunt you more often.”

“The ropes are not necessary,” Y/N growled.

“They’re a precaution. Look at your face, and you did just try to hit me moments ago.”

Rook, still giggling, slid an arm under Y/N’s back, and the other beneath their useless legs. Y/N didn’t even think about kicking. Rook’s hold was experienced, cultivated over years of hauling game and firing arrows in woodlands.

As Y/N laid in his embrace, glowering up at him, they began to wonder about the eccentric vice dorm leader. After all, they couldn’t do much else.

•~•~•

Known throughout the school as a hunter, this was his niche, his passion. Like Y/N, Rook went into forests for escape. Despite being on an errand for Vil, he had taken the time to liberate himself, even if only for a few minutes, of his duties and had fun. Wasn’t that the same with Y/N and Crowley?

Plus, the chase had freed Y/N of their stressful thoughts. Were they angry? Of course. But they had to hand it to the hunter: Rook knew how to be thrilling. Maybe learning to hunt could be something to take up?

“You won’t be so lucky the next time we meet in the woods,” Y/N said. “And couldn’t you have taken Vil’s photos today? It’s not like you had a busy schedule yourself.”

Rook didn’t say anything. But his smug little smirk was answer enough.

Great, Y/N thought. Another thing to look out for in this crazy world. One of my own schoolmates playing literal cat and mouse with me. Well, two can play. Don’t go running to Vil when one day your quiver has a hole in the bottom.

[fictionalabyss]

Saltine.

Pairing : Crowley x Plussize!Reader

Word count : 1,930

Warnings : AU (Crowley isn't a demon but is super fucking rich), Cam girl, Cam show, drinking, partial nudity

Header by : @sorenmarie87, as always. She's the best and I adore her and her work.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

The internet was filled with so many girls thinking they could get rich quick just by taking off their clothes. Like they were something special, something to behold. But really, they were one in a billion. Forgettable. Nothing different from the next person.

You were one in thousands. Slightly better odds.

Being a BBW, while nothing overly special on it’s own, did do one thing for you. People who ended up in your room knew what they wanted. They wanted a curvaceous goddess in their face. Curves and softness, something you had plenty of. The pool of plus size cam girls was smaller than the pool of everyone else.

Beyond that, you did what people paid you to do. If a guy paid you to fill your room with balloons and pop them one after another by sitting on them, you did it. Rub lotion all over your stomach and then spit on it, sure. Wear clothes that were two sizes too small, why not.

Tonight was kind of like that. Packages from a few regulars had shown up in your PObox, and one of them had contained a bottle of booze. Glencraig, a scotch whiskey you’d never heard of until James showed up in your chat room and paid for a private show where you drank and talked with him for an hour about two months ago. Now you had your own bottle. So you had taken a picture of it sitting between your legs, put it as your profile pic on the site and titled your chat “Me and Craig. Let’s see where this goes.”

Crowley’s bored and frustrated. The office is empty and he’s supposed to be working but he’s pent up. It’s been a long day of morons fucking shit up and he needed a god damn break. Billions of dollars at his disposal and he still couldn’t buy good fucking help to run his business.

He’s scrolling through women, looking for someone to catch his eye and quickly realizing he doesn’t think anyone will. They’re all the same. Once you’ve had one, you’d had them all, and he’s had plenty in his time. Fergus McLeod was no innocent. He was the farthest thing from it.

With a grunt of disapproval, he started looking for something different, hoping for something new. Key words being typed into searches, but nothing catching his eye in half of those either. Not for long, anyways. ‘BBW’ was a keyword he’d hit. Not many girls online, some of them into some niche things that he’d honestly consider, but all their pictures were the same. Every single one.

Except one. It had him leaning closer, trying to read the label. Interested enough in that at least, he hit join. What he found inside made his cock twitch.

A dark leather chair, not too different from one he  sat in himself. Smooth thick thighs he found himself wanting to bite into. And between them? The item that had taken hold of his interest, the reason he’d clicked to join. Glencraig. The bottle was freshly opened from the looks of it, about three fingers missing, so probably only on her second glass at most. He leaned in again, trying to get a closer look at the label. A soft curse fell from his lips when he saw the numbers 1974, and then ‘Aged 34 Years’. His cock twitched again, and he found himself reaching down to grip it through his slacks.

It was a close up of the bottle right now, and he wasn’t complaining. No one complained when she went to refill her glass, either. A whiskey glass was brought down to her thigh, then the bottle was brought out of where it was nestled, and a bare pussy was exposed. Chimes rang through his office, followed by a soft giggle as she poured, and then the bottle was placed back down, her pussy hidden once more behind the amber liquid and the black label. Then the camera moved.

It was tilted up more, following the glass as it was brought up to her lips and she took another sip. A shiver ran down her spine as it burned, and Crowley found himself smiling along with her. He heard another chime, then her laugh again. The tip amounted to about 75$, give or take.

“James, don’t be absurd, you already paid for the bottle.” She spoke as she pushed the camera back, giving a full view. Bottle between her legs and that seductive smile on her lips.

A message came up in the chat that read ‘Maybe I want you to be able to get yourself another. Hey guys! Let’s get her enough to order another bottle so we can have another night like this!’

The chat sped up, messages agreeing with the sentiment, and more chimes of tips being given for the cause. Another giggle came from her lips as she brought the glass back up to her mouth.

Not to be out done, Crowley made a donation of his own.

You were smiling, giggling, happy that everyone seemed to enjoy the theme of the room tonight. Glad that James approved of how you used his gift. You tilted the glass back just as a few chimes went off signaling more donations, and one of them made you choke on the scotch and spit it out. You stared at the screen, stunned as the liquid ran down off your chin.

Who the fuck was TheKing, and why did he just drop what had to be about 2 grand on you?

A new alert sounded, and you noticed you had a DM. Speak of the devil.

>> TheKing : From one Glencraig lover to another. I hope you enjoy it, love.

You stared at it, still in shock. In all your time as a cam girl, on here, on BBW specific sites, nothing like this had ever happened before. People bought gifts, sure, but this?

>> TheKing : Breathe, darling. >> TheKing : Don’t forget to breathe.

Realizing you had just been sitting there staring at the screen, you wiped your chin off and licked your lips, trying to collect yourself. The main chat was blowing up, you weren’t the only one dealing with shock and awe with what just happened.

“Uhm.” you breathed out awkwardly, not sure what to say, how to react. Was this real? “All hail The King?” an awkward chuckle followed the words, but the chat room was filled with messages of ‘all hail TheKing!’  “Should I bow.. or..” you joked, with a shy smile.

>> TheKing : No need to bow, love. >> TheKing : Though I wouldn’t say no to a conversation.

A soft smile graced your lips before you typed out your answer.

<< Saltine : We’re having a conversation. >> TheKing : I was thinking something a little more face to face. >> TheKing : I hear your voice, you hear mine.

You licked your lips, the general chat room forgotten for the moment. With money he dropped on you, your undivided attention for a moment was the least you could do.

<< Saltine : I don’t meet people from the site in person. It’s a safety issue, I’m sure you understand.

Three little dots in the corner let you know he was typing almost immediately.

>> TheKing : I wouldn’t expect you to, love. I meant more of a chat where I have my camera on too. Make it a little more intimate. I don’t mind paying for a private show where you don’t need to show anything. I would just like a drink with you.

You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment, considering the offer. Private shows didn’t really happen a whole lot, but when they did, it was charged by the minute so it was worth the time. You found yourself using your thumb to crack the knuckle of your index finger, and then your middle one before you nodded. “Yeah, we can do a private chat.” you spoke, letting the chatroom know your cam would be shutting off in there in a minute.

>> TheKing : You just made me a very happy man, darling. Whenever you’re ready, you let me know.

You were chewing on your lip as you waited for his cam to kick in. It was a moment of black before a bright light seemed to come on, and quickly it shifted. There was black in the middle of brightness, and then slowly the light seemed to adjust. It was a window. A massive window. As the lighting adjusted, you found yourself looking at a man in a suit and behind him, a city skyscape all laid out for him.  Glancing at the time, you wondered where in the world he was. Was it evening like where you were, the sun still holding on and not yet ready to set, or was that a morning glow behind him. Either way, it looked beautiful.

The man himself was something to behold. Not stunningly beautiful, not young and fit like some of the guys who popped up on camera for you, but captivating. He seemed to demand attention, radiating power. He was someone. A few very short hairs touched his forehead, he had a short beard as well, one you had the urge to run your fingertips over. Dark piercing eyes that you felt burning into you as one side of his mouth turned up into a smirk at your reaction of seeing him.

“H-hi.” you stuttered, then curse yourself for it.

His smile only widened. He brought a glass up, and that’s when you noticed the bottle on his desk. The same as the bottle still sitting between your thighs. He took a sip, then placed the glass down on the dark wood. “Why Saltine?” he asked, and you felt your stomach flutter at the accent.

“Because I’m so fucking salty all the time?” You gave him a shy smile. “Why TheKing? What are you the king of?”

“Your dreams.” He answered without hesitation and a fuck ton of confidence. He was cocky, he knew the effect he had on people and how to use it. “If you wish it.”

“Tempting.” you try to tease, lifting your own glass to your lips. “Why me?” you ask before sipping.

“Glencraig. Aged 30 years or more, there is no finer drink, love. It’s rare to find a woman with such tastes.”

“It was bought for me.”

“But you enjoy it, yes?” You gave him a nod. You had to admit, it wasn’t bad. “A woman of taste.” he smiled again. “What other things do you enjoy, Saltine? Money? Things? Travel?”

“Are you offering?” he intrigued you. He really did. Something about him made you want more and you didn’t even know him. “I could use a vacation.”

“Anywhere you want, darling. Where would you like to go?”

“Paris.” You answered quickly, and it didn’t seem to faze him at all. “Scotland.” you added. “England. Ireland. India. Japan. I want to see it all.”

His smile widened again. “Scotland, eh? It has been a while since I’ve been home.”

“I was joking.” you chuckled.

“I wasn’t. In another life, I could’ve given you everything you wanted and more with just a snap of my fingers.” You sat there, stunned again. “Choose a place and I’ll send you there. If you want, I’ll take the time and meet you there. The choice is yours, darling. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this interested in anything.”

“All because of a bottle of Craig?” you asked.

“Everything good in life starts with a quality scots. Be it a whiskey, or a scotsman.” he winked. “So where first?”

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

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[meganlpie]

Always Sam

Based on this request from Wattpad:  Dean x demon reader the reader got turned into a demon by Crowley and is now the strongest and most feared demon now and is back for revenge and it is dean’s fault it happened because he had to choose between sam and y/n and now y/n is in love with Sam

Here you are lovelies! The first of the new requests! I do not own ANY Supernatural characters. They belong to the writers/creators of the show.

Warnings: ANGST! Mentions of death, demons, SPN magic stuff. Ya know. 

Pairings: Sam Winchester x demon!reader, enemy!Dean Winchester, mentions of Crowley. 

*F/N= fake name

You watched with a glare as once again, Dean rushed to Sam's side. Even as you were lying there dying, Dean went to Sam. You understood that they were brothers, but you had saved both their lives on countless occasions. But, as always, when given the choice between Sam or someone else, Dean ALWAYS chose Sam. Always. So, you accepted the fact that you were going to die knowing that, if there was a chance, you were going to haunt Dean Winchester for the rest of his life. That was your last thought before everything went dark.

         It seemed like mere moments later that you heard an accent you knew very well beckoning you back. "Open your eyes, Y/N. See the world as I do." You grumbled a bit, thinking you may have been dreaming, but opened your eyes all the same. Unsurprisingly, you saw Crowley staring down at you. However, you were surprised that you were in an unfamiliar place. Everything came rushing back to you as you sat up.

         "Am I-?" Crowley smirked as he continued your question, "In Hell? Give the hunter a prize. Although I don't suppose you'll be doing much hunting anymore." You glared at him, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. "Why aren't I being tortured like the other lost souls?" you snapped at him. Crowley chuckled and shook his head before conjuring a mirror.

         "Because you're tortured enough, Y/N." You glanced in the mirror and blinked, only to jump back when black eyes looked back at you from a body that wasn't yours. "A demon?" Crowley nodded. Thoughts bounced around your head as everything came crashing down around you. This was the one thing you never wanted. "Sorry about the meat suit. The boys gave you a hunter's funeral. No body for you to go back to."

         The very mentions of the Winchesters brought back your anger. Not at Sam. But at Dean. It was his fault you ended up here. His fault that you were a demon now instead of in Heaven or, better yet, alive! You ground your teeth as anger filled you in a way it never had before. The need for revenge was stronger than you'd ever felt when you were human.

         "That's it, Y/N. Give into it." You glared at him, but he merely chuckled. "This why you're already a demon. Your anger. Your resentment. It all twisted your soul and made you into the very thing you always hated. But you have power here, Y/N. Power you never dreamed. And once I teach you how to harness it, you can do practically anything." Crowley's words sound like honey and you imagined all the ways you could enact the revenge you so desperately craved.

         "What would you like to do with your new demon status?" Crowley asked. You blinked up at him with furrowed brows. There was only one answer. "Make Dean Winchester suffer."

         "Perfect," came Crowley's reply with a grin.

*time skip*

         It took months of planning, but finally you were ready to get your payback. You harnessed your powers so quickly and ferociously that every demon in Hell, other than Crowley, feared and respected you. But now it was time for you to return to Earth. "I'll be checking in," Crowley told you and you left.

         Finding the Winchesters was easy enough. The second part of your plan was a little more difficult. Getting Sam to fall for you. After losing so many people, Sam did not fall easily. But you were determined and, to make matters better, Dean "introduced" you to his brother.

         "Hey, Sammy! This is F/N. F/N, this is my brother Sam." You stuck out your hand and smiled. "Want a drink?" Dean asked and you nodded. He walked off, leaving you alone with Sam. You started up a conversation and, at the end of the night, you found yourself in Sam's motel room. That was the beginning of the end for all of you.

         For weeks after that, you and Sam texted and called whenever he wasn't hunting. Occasionally, if you happened to be in the same vicinity for "work", you and he would meet up for dinner or coffee or even just a night of passion. It was never the same thing twice with him and you hated to admit it, but you enjoyed it. Still, you plans for revenge were never far from your mind. You didn't know that Dean was keeping a close eye on you.

         You were out with Sam one night when it all came crashing down. Sam took your hands in his and met your gaze. "I love you," he stated so seriously that there was no mistaking that he meant it. Those words threw you. You hadn't been expecting them so soon, if really at all.

         "Sam I-I-" you couldn't form the words. You were a demon. Demons didn't love. Did they? You wouldn't have a chance to say anything more though because the door was practically kicked off its hinges. "Dean?" Dean walked in with his gun pointed at you.

         "Move away, Sam. That's not who we think." Sam merely stared between you and Dean. You chuckled lightly and shook your head as you looked down at the floor. "So, you finally figured it out, did ya, Dean?" you asked. You picked your head back up, flashing your black eyes.

         "What do you want with Sam?!" You rolled your eyes, flashing them back to the color they were. "Okay, so you haven't figured it out. You know, for such a good big brother, your instincts were certainly off this time. Too bad. This makes my revenge a lot less satisfying."

         "Revenge? For what?" Sam asked, holding out his hand to try and get Dean to lower the gun. "You mean you don't know?" you asked innocently before facing Dean again. "Tell him, Dean. Tell him how you always choose him over anyone else. Tell him that it's because of you I'm like this. You know, you could have at least left me my body to come back to. I miss my body." Dean looked confused for a moment before lowering the gun slightly. "Y-Y/N?"

         "BINGO! Give the man a medal!" Sam stepped in, blocking Dean from your view. "Y/N?" Your anger melted slightly as you looked at the giant of a man in front of you. "Yeah, Sam. It's me. Has been." Sam stared at you for a minute. "But why? How is this Dean's fault?"

         "You really don't know? Think back to when I died. The hunt we did. Your wounds were superficial! Dean could have saved me, but instead he chose you! He always chose you! I died angry and resentful and hurt and because of that, I came back as a demon!" you shouted, making Sam jump and causing Dean to raise the gun again.

         With a flick of your wrist, you sent the gun flying. "You know that wouldn't work on me anyway," you stated as you calmed down, moving once more to bring Dean into your line of sight. "You know," you continued, "This wasn't how I planned this. I was supposed to kill Sam, but I can't do that now."

         "Why not?" Sam asked. You turned to him with a smile. "Because, despite everything has done to me, you aren't him. And honestly? I…I care about you, Sam Winchester. I don't know if it's love. I don't think demons can love, but whatever it is, it's close to it. So, I have a better idea." Sam raised a brow.

         "You come with me and I leave Dean here to wallow in his misery." Sam opened his mouth in surprise. But you never got to hear an answer. You felt the bullet from the Colt before you heard it. How could you have forgotten about that damned gun? You crumpled to the ground, knowing you were going to die for real this time. The only one who could save you now was Crowley and he was nowhere around.

         Sam was by your side in an instant. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice cracking. You let out a wry chuckle. "See? I told you." Sam looked confused for a minute. "He will always choose you, Sam. Your life over everything, even your happiness." You groaned a little as the meat suit began dying. "You know, I think I do love you. Tell Crowley that when you see him again, okay?" you managed to mutter before the body finally gave into death.

         Sam sat there, cradling the body that temporarily been yours as his eyes filled with tears. "Sam?" Dean questioned but Sam didn't want to hear it. "Don't, Dean. Just don't." Sam got up, scooping you up in his arms, ready to burn your body once again. He walked with a heavy heart as he his mind raced and his heart was torn between his brother and the demon he'd come to love. A demon that only the King of Hell could bring back to him.

(a/n: How’d I do? It’s been a bit since I wrote anything SPN. I hope you like it!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard​ @brewsthespirit-blog​ @sirkekselord​ @aikibriarrose​ @lady-of-lies​ @esoltis280​ @stories-by-shanna-p​ @motleymoose​

Supernatural Tags: @jotink78​

[randomideasmybrainhas]

King of Hell Party (Crowley)(Supernatural)

Hey y’all, this is a little different, but hopefully enjoyable none the less. 

--

You were the baby sister of the Winchester family, and all while you were still a hunter with your brothers, you rarely ever had to get your hands too messy, given you along with your brothers, had an amazing genetics and could just about woo anyone with slight charm and a wink. 

As hypocritical as your brothers could be, especially Dean, it did get the three of you out of trouble on more accounts then they would admit to, though your current predicament none of you were expecting. 

--

“Dean, if you don’t shut up, I will personally take this knife and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine.” You screamed as you used your favorite blade to slash through a demon’s chest, and propel your body to jump up and kick another demon in the head swaying him to stagger back giving you enough time to pull the knife out of the first demon and stab it into the second one. 

“All I'm saying, is that you have horrible taste in men, and you could’ve done better than that last guy.” Dean yelled back while slamming his body into two demons and stabbing both with the same blade. 

You rolled your eyes again as you flipped backwards to help Sam with the bigger demon who even made Sam look small. You jumped onto the wall and ran to push yourself off onto the demon’s shoulders and hold his arms back while Sam got up from the floor and stabbed the demon finishing up the last of the demons. 

You guys arrived a little late to the party, but the job was done. You hopped down and sighed and wiped all the blood off of your blade onto your jeans and were about to light up the place when you heard a British accent coming from behind you.

“This is why we can’t have nice things. Every time I try to do something nice, you two always ruin it.” 

You turned around and noticed a man in all black sighing as he looked at all the bodies on the ground then looked up at you and made eye contact after taking his time to let his eyes travel up your body. You raised your eyebrow at the man.

“Hello darling. And who might you be?” The man asked his voice dropping a bit.

“With the other 2 that ruin everything.” You reply with a small smirk growing on your face. He just smiled as Dean cleared his throat.

“While I’d hate to ruin your disgusting flirting with our little sister, what are you here for Crowley?” 

Ahh, Crowley. The King of Hell. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but this wasn’t it, though you weren’t protesting. You continued to look him up and down from his devilish appearance in a fancy suit with that tantalizing British accent that made your skin crawl. You continued to eye him like candy as Sam bumped into your side trying to tell you to stop. 

“Ahh squirrel. Moose. I didn’t know the two most annoying people on this Earth had the most beautiful woman in their presence. I would’ve killed you off much sooner if I knew about you. Say darling, what’s your name?” Crowley asked as he approached you and pushed a strand of hair out of your face.

“The name is (y/n), and might I say King of Hell, I’m quite impressed with your work. You’ve been keeping us on our toes lately.” You reply curtly while flicking your eyes downwards at his lips and back up to his eye and gave him a quick wink. He noticed every movement and this brought him in the slightest bit closer.

“Enough Crowley. What are you here for?” Sam asked while pushing him back a bit from you. You both rolled your eyes and Crowley got back to business. 

“Well Moose. I was on my way to debrief my demons the plans for the party this week about how we were going to take over the world and hit a new quota. Though. You lot have to seem to change some plans here.” He rolled out while looking around at all the bodies.

“Mmmm, we just know how to throw a better party.” You speak up, catching the King of Hell’s attention once more, as he smiled at you. 

“Say boys. It’s about time since we had a fun chase don’t you say?” Crowley instantly disappeared in a poof of black smoke only to appear again at your side. 

“If you’ll be needing us, we’ll be catching up over the adventures of Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dumb, bye boys.” Crowley hummed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulled you closer so you could smell his cologne and both were instantly wrapped in black smoke. 

--

Once you both appeared at a luxurious  restaurant and you looked down and were dressed in a long elegant black dress with a heart shape cut and a side slit for your leg, in high 4″ silver heels and your hair was done up in a high bun with little ringlets coming down to frame your face. You looked over at the British man as he held out his arm for you to take to walk in the restaurant to their table.

You looked up to meet his eyes smiling and took his arm and followed him in. This definitely wasn’t how you expected the hunt would go, but getting courted to a nice dinner wasn’t too terrible you thought. Especially with the back mindset that Sam and Dean had to drag their asses back to the bunker to figure out where Crowley took you. 

[whitewitchdani]

Laters, Baby: Chapter 8

Read Chapter 7 Here

Word Count: 1874

Pairing: Winchester!Sister x Lucifer

Warnings: angst, language, description of injury

A/N: Chapter 8! Let me know what you think and if you’d like to be tagged.

Laters, Baby Masterlist

Crowley took a deep breath before running through his rescue plan again. It consisted of teleporting into where he thought Y/N might be and kind of just winging it from there. Why was he doing this again? Oh right, to weaken Lucifer and save a Winchester. 

Bollocks, this was a terrible plan.

With a snap of his fingers, Crowley teleported into the part of Hell he assumed Y/N was being kept. Turns out he was right; the chambers had been redecorated, however, and as he walked into the bedroom the youngest Winchester was fast asleep in the bed. He observed the red accents the room was covered in and smirked. How cliché of the devil, he thought to himself. 

As he approached the huntress, he saw she had a black eye and a split lip, finger shaped bruises were also forming around her throat. “Bloody hope the Winchesters don’t blame me for this.” he whispered out loud. He felt a twinge of sympathy for the girl, spending quality time in Hell with Lucifer was probably no vacation. 

He pulled the covers off the bed back and scooped the huntress into his arms when the room suddenly dropped ten degrees. “Bollocks.”

“You know Crowley, you must be a special kind of stupid to pop into Hell these days. May I ask why you have the baby Winchester in your arms?” Lucifer sneered as he waltzed into the bedroom.

“I was sent to retrieve her. Plus, if it pisses you off it tends to top my list of things to do these days.”

Lucifer’s eyes flashed red, “I suggest you put her down, demon. If you hurt her or even wake her up, you’ll have me to deal with. She belongs here with me.”

Crowley’s eyebrows shot up at his concern for her, but he remained focused. “Touching, really. But I’ve got two hunters and an angel who beg to differ, so I really must be going. Ta-ta now.” And with a snap of his fingers, Crowley and Y/N were gone. The roar Lucifer unleashed as a result shook the walls throughout all of Hell.

“Sam, I swear to God if you don’t stop pacing, I’m gonna break both your damn legs.”

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed at his brother but sat down next to him at the table. “Crowley should be back by now. Maybe you were right, this was a bad idea. We shouldn’t have trusted him.”

“Marvelous Moose, I should just return this to where I found it then?” The men turned to glare at the demon as he gestured to the unconscious woman in his arms. Sam and Dean scrambled from the table to approach their sister, Dean taking Y/N from Crowley’s arms. They moved to one of the beds in the motel room and laid her down. 

Sam squinted at the wounds littering his sister’s face and neck, “What the hell happened, Crowley? She looks terrible.”

“That Moose, I do not know. She was like that when I arrived in Hell. I’m assuming spending quality time with Lucifer in his domain is no spa trip. However, I’m not sure Lucifer did that to her.”

Dean looked at the crossroads demon incredulously, “What are you talking about?”

“Lucifer seemed extremely protective when I showed up. He said she belonged with him”

“It’s beginning,” Castiel marveled.

Dean stood from his sister’s bedside and approached the angel, “What do you mean? What’s beginning Cas?”

Cas sighed, “The soulmate connection. Lucifer has spent time with Y/N and as a result does not want to be separated from her. It’s possible that she will feel similarly when she wakes. It’s not conscious thought, but a physical need to be near one another. I agree with Crowley, it is unlikely Lucifer caused those injuries.”

Dean moved to question Castiel further when a groan came from the bed. He turned and made it to his sister in two large steps, “Y/N/N? Hey are you okay?”

You groaned and slowly opened your eyes. You were shocked when, instead of Lucifer’s face, you were met with Sam on your right and Dean on your left. “Sam? Dean? What happened? How did I get here?”

“Hey are you alright?” Sam checked the bruises forming on your neck and grazed your split lip with his thumb.

You rolled your shoulders and sat up on the bed, “Yeah I think so. My throat hurts a little and I have a headache but I’ve had worse. How did I get here?”

“We’ll get to that in a second. What the hell happened, Y/N? You look like crap.”

You rolled your eyes, “Thanks for that Dean. And nothing really, I pissed off a demon and this was the aftermath. You know, typical Winchester things.”

Crowley laughed from across the room and Dean shot him a dirty look. “Yeah, okay, that I get but you should look much worse. You were in Hell and had no weapons; you should be a bloody pulp or dead. Why are you basically fine?”

You looked down and picked at your thumbnail, “Well I pissed off a demon and he decided to choke me to death, making up for losing one Winchester in Hell by killing another.” Dean cringed at the implication that his Hell-break was the reason for his sister’s suffering. “Well, right before I lost consciousness someone pulled him off of me. When I finally regained my senses and looked up, turns out it was Lucifer. And he was pissed. Dusted the demon right there.”  

Dean tilted his head at you as a small smile appeared on your face when you talked about Lucifer. He looked at Sam and had one of their silent conversations about it. Cas was right; it was starting. 

“So, is someone gonna tell me who busted me out of Hell? Because I know it wasn’t you two dopes and Cas can’t just waltz into Hell on his own,” you paused as you glanced to the crossroads demon in the corner of the room. “I’m guessing that’s where you come in?”

Crowley nodded and waltzed toward them, “Right you are Moosette. You were snoozing away in my former quarters when I popped in. Love what you’ve done with the place by the way.”

You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t exactly get a choice in décor Crowley. Red isn’t my color anyways.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, “You were sleeping in quarters? That were decorated in red? Y/N, what the hell happened while you were down there?”

You paused and contemplated how to answer your twin’s question. There was no way in hell you were going to tell them how you were feeling about the devil currently, that would get you immediate and permanent residency in Bobby’s panic room. So, you decided to tell the truth, mostly. 

“Well, honestly? He treated me really well. He healed me when I first got there from Meg’s assault and then put me in that apartment-type thing. Which had no food in it, which is why I interacted with the demon and pissed him off, which resulted in the lovely array of bruises you see before you. Lucifer saved my life.”

You looked up to see four pairs of eyes staring back at you in disbelief. Sam looked confused while Dean looked flat out pissed, “Alright, we’re going to Bobby’s. We can do more research about this crap and the warding in the panic room should keep Lucifer and his lackeys from finding Y/N.” Dean stood and began packing everything back into the various duffel bags.

Your eyes widened, “What?? Dean I’m not going to let you lock me up in the panic room.” You stood and walked over to your older brother, “What happened in the park was a fluke and I know you guys were worried but I’m fine. I am not going to hide in Bobby’s basement while you all act like my white knights. I’ll be alright.” Crowley took the impending argument as his cue and blinked from the room.

Dean took a step back in an attempt to calm himself some, “Y/N we can’t risk him finding you. I mean look at you; I can’t take the chance of you getting hurt again. In the panic room you will be safe and Lucifer won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

“Lucifer didn’t hurt me in the first place! The opposite actually! He healed me AND saved my life-”

“Why are you defending him? He’s the devil! You aren’t thinking clearly and while it’s not your fault I’m not taking any chances. We are going to Bobby’s where you can hang out in the panic room until we can figure out what to do about this soulmate bullshit.”

You were fuming. You weren’t thinking clearly? You knew what was happening to you, but that didn’t mean you were helpless. You took a deep breath, “Do you think I don’t know that something is happening to me? Do you think that it doesn’t scare the absolute hell out of me? Because it does. Did you ever stop and think that this is why I was brought into your family? That fate brought me to you, the vessels of Michael and Lucifer, in order to maybe have a chance at stopping the apocalypse? Maybe if Lucifer and I-”

“There is no Lucifer and you! He’s not getting near you again Y/N, and that’s a promise. We will stop the apocalypse, but not like that.” Dean looked at Cas and sent him a silent prayer. 

The angel looked at him like he was insane, “No. I will not render your sister unconscious to make your life easier.” Cas walked over and placed two fingers to your forehead and, instead of doing what Dean asked, healed your wounds. “I agree with what Y/N was saying; Father made her Lucifer’s soulmate for a reason and I do not believe we should interfere.”  

“Yeah? What if it backfires Cas? What if Lucifer makes her go darkside?” Dean pointed to you, “That’s my baby sister and I’m not taking that chance. I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe.”

While your brother argued with the angel, you changed out of the clothes you’d been wearing for two days and into fresh jeans and a flannel, sitting to pull on your boots. When you stood, you went and returned your weapons to their rightful places on your person: knife in boot, gun at your back. You sighed as you finally felt like yourself after days of absolute craziness.

With no warning, Dean stomped over and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. He made his way out to the Impala as you punched and kicked against him.“Dammit Dean, put me down!” you continued your assault on your brother, “I’m serious! PUT ME THE FUCK DOWN NOW!”

He ignored your protests and made his way to the back passenger-side door, pulling you from his shoulder to toss you into the back seat. 

Before you could argue, Dean grabbed your right wrist and handcuffed you to the car, “This is for your own good Y/N/N.”

As he slammed the door, he made his way to the front of the car where Sam was standing. Sam’s eyes were wide as he read your lips, watching you let out a stream of expletives that’d make Dean blush.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Being with Lucifer changed her, Sam. I can’t risk him finding her again. Dad gave me one job our whole lives, and it was to watch out for you and Y/N. This is me doing that. Now let’s go.”

Read Chapter 9 Here

Tag List: @lovesamwinchester​ @tomhiddleston-is-mischief​ @loco-latte​ @stuckinsaudi1​ @sugar-nico​ @potato-extra-pot​ @humbledarkness​

[trashboatprince]

I’m talking to my girlfriend about Nanny and Francis, and I wanted to write for them, so I asked my sister for a plot cause she’s given me all the other ones I’ve written before.

So, here is some cute fluff.

Ship: Ineffable husbands, Nanny and Gardner edition

--

“Nanny! Nanny!”

Ashtoreth turned sharply, away from Brother Francis (who was trying to prune a bush without nicking his finger with the shears), to see her young ward running towards her. Warlock’s voice was a bit panicked, but he didn’t appear harmed in any way. Had something startled him?

“What’s the matter, hellspawn?” She asked, kneeling down to be at a better level with him as he got into her waiting arms.

“Nanny, I saw a snake!”

Francis perked up, glancing over at the two. “Oh? A snake, ye say? And where’d ya find the li’l darlin’, hm?”

Warlock took his nanny’s hand, taking her through the yard, with Francis following beside Ashtoreth. “Over here! By the tree! It’s so big and scary!”

“A snake here?” Ashtoreth frowned deeply, curious. “Not really common in these parts, young Warlock. Are you sure it was one, or was it just your imagination?”

“It’s real! It moved and stuck out it’s tongue!” Warlock exclaimed before letting go of her hand, running towards the tree to take a look around it.

Ashtoreth continued to frown, though she eased up slightly when she felt a gentle, familiar hand on her shoulder. “Angel, think it could be trouble?”

“Snakes are not my territory, my dear.” Francis replied, accent completely dropped for his true one. “I doubt it’s a threat, but it doesn’t hurt to take a look.” He looked up when Warlock shouted that he had found it.

Quickly, the gardening angel approached the spot, seeing a thin, long snake looking about in the grass. He smiled a bit, ah, he wasn’t en expert, but he knew this one was safe. “Ah, no need to worry, young Master Warlock! Just a li’l one, a garner snake from what I can tell.”

“Then there is no need to worry.” The nanny spoke as she made her way over, seeing that it was just a garner. And a normal one, not a demon in hiding or working for one, just a simple animal.

“But snakes are so gross!” Warlock exclaimed and missed the way the redhead stopped. Francis didn’t miss it at all, he saw the quick flash of hurt cross her face.

“Ah, young one, there ain’t nothin’ gross about a snake.” Francis started, but the boy continued.

“They are too gross! They spit and bite, and I saw a video online where one ate a mouse alive and it was so nasty! And they’re slimy and weird, they have no legs, and they’re mean and evil! Why would anymore like ‘em? What are they even for? Mom says that one even got humans in trouble and got us kicked outta paradise, or something like that.”

Ashtoreth bit her lip, she’s had a lot of things said about her (and sometimes to her face) over the centuries, but to hear it from a kid that she had actually enjoyed the company of? Sure, he was being a kid, who didn’t know the truth, but it still hurt to hear all this.

Crowley could brush off these sorts of things with ease, but sometimes... they get to you, ya know?

Francis sighed softly and got down on the ground, holding out hands, gently picking up the snake. “Brother Francis! No!” Warlock exclaimed in fright, hiding behind his caretaker, who had remained silent the whole time as she watched.

“It’s alright, Warlock.” Francis smiled gently as he looked at the snake. “I told you about our siblings, the animals. This is just another sister in the world for you. Sister Snake, ain’t she cute?”

The redhead looked from the snake to the angel.

“There is nothin’ wrong with snakes. They’re one of God’s special creatures, they are important to the Great Plan, the Ineffable Plan especially.” Francis’ smile grew a little. “Oh yes, a curious snake did bring knowledge to people years ago, but she was just doin’ ‘er job, yes? And God said that’s alright, just part of the plans.

And snakes aren’t slimy, they’re clean and well kept, with such beautiful scales that look like colorful gems or stars! Beautiful, with eyes that’ll draw ya in like nothin’ else in the world. They can be a wee bit harsh, but sometimes ya gotta to protect yerself from the dangers of the world. They’re different from you, but you’re different from them, what if they had such mean things to say to you just cause you didn’t know ‘em?”

Warlock frowned, gripping Ashtoreth’s skirt a little as he looked at the snake, now feeling bad. “So... they’re not evil?”

“Heavens no!” The gardener spoke as he stood up, still holding the snake. “Not at all, even if they sometimes tell you differently.” He smiled up at the caregiver before him, her cheeks were flushed and she tried to look annoyed, but kept her mouth shut.

“Snakes are lovely gifts to us, Master Warlock. I don’t know what I’d ever do without ‘em. I’d be very lonely without Sister Snake in my garden.”

Ashtoreth’s breath hitched as she looked right at the other from behind her shades. “I’m sure Sister Snake would be just as lonely without you, Brother Francis.” She finally spoke, keeping her voice quiet and steady, but her flushed cheeks betrayed her.

Francis’ smile grew softer. “I think you owe someone an apology, Master Warlock.”

Warlock looked at the snake and stepped closer, gently reaching out, carefully touching the snake’s head with a finger. “I’m sorry, Sister Snake.”

“She says you’re forgiven.” Ashtoreth replied. “Now, go get yourself cleaned up inside, it’s almost time for lunch.”

The duo watched as the boy rushed back to the house before she turned to her companion. “You’re terrible,”

“Oh?” Francis chuckled as he put the snake back down, watching as it slithered through the grass. “Whatever do you mean, my dear?”

“You’re too forward like this, what if he suspects? What if someone else does?”

“Let them, I think I am allowed to speak openly about my opinions of Sister Snake.”

She smirked, leaning down to plant a kiss on his cheek. “You’re too good for your own well being, angel. It’ll get you into some serious trouble one day.”

“Only if that trouble is caused by you.” Francis laughed as he walked with her towards the house.

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Familiar Things

Good news for anyone who thought they were free of my strange writing predilections! Not only am I back on writing for @drawlight‘s advent challenge, but I’ve once again taken what really should have been a fairly light story and taken a sharp turn into angst land!

14 - Eggnog (1,933)

Nanny Ashtoreth would never admit how good it felt to walk into that bookshop after months away.

Every Christmas, the Dowlings gave all their staff two weeks off while they traveled, visiting various heads of state. It was a great relief, not least because demons preferred to avoid elaborate Christmas celebrations.

Aziraphale’s bookshop was much as it always had been – crowded with dusty books on every surface, embarrassingly tacky angels tucked into every corner, gramophone playing an ancient, warped disc because someone refused to even upgrade to vinyl. The only concessions to the season were a few sprigs of holly and a string of lights in the window, drawing attention to the sign: CLOSED TODAY – TRY AGAIN TOMORROW!

The sign had sat unchanged for just about ten years.

Stepping through the door, the hat came off, the hair shook loose, and just for a little while Nanny Ashtoreth was Crowley again.

“Ah, my dear fellow, I’m so glad you could make it.” Aziraphale had all the boisterous cheer of the host of a banquet – though as always, it was only the two of them.

“Nh.” Crowley went straight to the sofa, flinging himself down, kicking his feet up onto the armrest. “Next time I have the brilliant idea to create a persona who only wears heels, remind me of this moment.” He settled down deeper into the well-worn cushions, feeling the ache in his back, legs and feet lessen just a bit. So good.

“Crowley, I’ve told you before, I don’t like your shoes on my furniture.”

“And I’ve told you, Angel, I don’t care.” He pulled off his glasses – small lenses, emphasizing the sharpness of his face; he’d need a new pair soon, and good riddance – then looked Aziraphale up and down. Another thing he’d never admit to missing: that tartan bowtie. “No more Brother Francis, then?”

The angel straightened his waistcoat and smoothed his lapels. “I arranged to have myself let go after the gardens were settled for the winter. I have a few ideas for next year, but I’ll need more time as myself to…prepare.”

“I’m staying on through the end of the school year,” Crowley said, leaning back to study the ceiling. “That only gives me about two months but…not as much to prepare, I suppose.”

Neither of them needed to say what they were preparing for. They’d hardly mentioned it for ten years, though they each thought of little else.

“Let me get you something to drink. Eggnog?”

“I’d rather have brandy.”

A moment later, Aziraphale pressed the glass into his hand. Crowley glared at the white liquid. “This isn’t what I asked for.”

“There’s more than enough brandy in there. I just thought I’d be a little festive.”

“Festive.” Must be all that time around the humans, going to his head. “That’s the last thing we need right now.” Crowley raised the glass to his lips just as Aziraphale circled the sofa and suddenly grabbed at his foot. “Oi!” Crowley jerked his leg away.

“Too much brandy?” Aziraphale asked with the sort of innocent expression that had never fooled anyone.

Crowley glared at Aziraphale, his foot, and his glass. “Too much nutmeg, actually. And leave me alone. My feet are killing me, and I’m keeping them up until they stop.”

The angel sighed. “I was going to help you remove your boots. So you could sit however you like without ruining the furniture.”

“Ah.” Slowly, Crowley lowered his leg back to the arm of the sofa. “Well, I suppose that…that makes sense.”

Not quite meeting his eyes, Aziraphale set to work loosening the first high-heeled boot. “These shoes are atrocious. I’m sure you weren’t wearing them ten years ago.” He finally worked it free, and Crowley gave a grunt of pleasure, which he tried to hide with another sip of eggnog. Aziraphale held up the boot by its four-inch heel. “Was this entirely necessary?”

“It felt more in-character.” Crowley shrugged. “Be careful with that, it needs to last until June.”

“I think you just like playing up for the humans.” Aziraphale got to work on the second boot.

“Oh, I’m the one playing up? And what was the purpose of that pirate accent?” Crowley smiled slightly, taking another sip of eggnog. It would probably be quicker to sit up and remove the blasted boot himself, but the angel seemed determined to try.

“It’s a rural accent! Brother Francis was a simple farmer from a rural community and needed a voice to match.”

“Was he? A caricature of a farmer, you mean, with a Mummerset accent.” Crowley chuckled, tilting up his glass. “Next time we do this, remind me to give you a lesson in deep characterization.”

The hands on his boot fell still, and Crowley lowered the glass. Neither of them wanted to say it. That this might be the last time.

“Here, let me get that,” Crowley grumbled, sitting up.

“No, you stay put.” Aziraphale grabbed the boot with both hands, pulling it free, probably casting a small miracle to get it off so easily, and tossed it aside. “There. Now you can put your feet wherever you want.”

Two feet sat crossed on the arm rest of the sofa. To a human, they may have appeared to be covered in some sort of black fishnet stockings, but supernatural eyes could see that the pattern was part of the flesh, wrapping around the toes and fading towards a regular skin tone somewhere above the knee. Every demon had to have some sign of what he really was.

Without warning, Aziraphale lifted his legs and slid under them, lowering the feet to instead rest on his lap.

Crowely went very, very still. “What. Uh. What are you doing?”

“Well, I thought…” Aziraphale’s face was carefully blank. Too blank. “Since they’re so sore, you might like a foot rub. It’s, you know, supposed to help.”

He put the glass of eggnog on the table by his head. “Angel. What’s going on?”

“Is it so strange I want to do something to make you comfortable?”

“Yes. It is.” Crowley shifted a little, sitting higher, which actually moved his feet to the middle of Aziraphale’s lap. But he wanted to look the angel in the eye. “We don’t…do that sort of thing. We never have.”

Aziraphale turned to face him, smiling – a soft, sad, uncertain smile, another thing Crowley would never admit to missing during the Brother Francis years. “I suppose we don’t. But I wanted to, well, give you something.”

“Give me something.” The eggnog soured in his stomach. “Angel. We’ve never given each other Christmas gifts. Or Solstice, or whatever came before that. Not ever.”

“Well.” Fingers hovered above Crowley’s scaled feet, not touching but not pulling away. “Perhaps now is as good a time as any to start.”

Crowley swallowed, trying to think of an objection. But those eyes, that smile – they did something to him. Always had. Finally, he slumped back down on the sofa. “Do what you want, then.”

The fingers trembled as they touched him, just slightly, and he fought not to pull away. Then a thumb found the point where the strain from wearing heels crossed the bottom of his foot and pressed and – oh, that felt good.

“It would seem you do like it after all.”

Crowley pushed a hand against his jaw, determined not to make that sound ever again. “’M just tired is all.” With growing confidence, the thumbs and the heels of Aziraphale’s hands worked their way up and down one foot, then the other, and back to the first.

It felt…not pleasurable, not intimate, whatever humans might say.

It was a relief, that’s what it was. The opposite of the pain that had been building up for months and months since he’d decided to put on those frankly magnificent torture devices.

And it was comfortable, like finding himself back on this sofa, so perfectly molded to his body.

Familiar, like a bottle of his favorite wine, discovered in a back room when he thought he’d drunk it all and it was gone forever.

It felt…right. Like this was something they should have been doing all along.

And, he supposed, if you got down to it…it was intimate. How else would you describe a relationship that spanned six thousand years? Intimate in ways humans could never imagine.

It occurred to Crowley that he was no longer describing the sensation of the foot rub, and he wasn’t doing a good job of stopping the tiny sighs of relief that kept finding their way out of his mouth.

There was a smile on Aziraphale’s face, that smug little bastard grin that always made Crowley feel lightheaded. “Let me guess. After this, you want me to do your feet.” He wasn’t even planning to argue.

Blue eyes shot at him, just for a second, then focused back on his toes. “Oh, no. Quite unnecessary. Unlike you, I’ve been wearing practical footwear.”

He didn’t like that light joking tone. “You must want something.”

“Well, if you insist, I…would like to talk.”

Crowley could have pulled his feet back, walked away. This wouldn’t end well, he could already sense it. “Talk about what?”

“Oh. You know.” He swallowed, the motions of his thumbs slowing against Crowley’s soles. “How do you suppose…things are. With Warlock.”

“I’ve told you. He’s normal. Almost too normal. You said that meant it was working.”

“Most certainly.” One thumb moved in an idle circle. “I just… We are prepared for… your final report, aren’t we?”

“Aziraphale. What are you getting at?”

The hands fell still. “Crowley. If we succeed, if Warlock refuses his role…what do you plan to tell your side?”

“I tell them my clever adversary outwitted me again. The angel Aziraphale turned the Antichrist to the side of good, nothing I could do against his brilliant scheming.”

“And they’ll just accept that.” Aziraphale wrapped his fingers around Crowley’s foot, not massaging now, just holding it. “They’ll just let you walk away?”

“That isn’t your concern, Angel.” Aziraphale shook his head, holding a little tighter. “It isn’t. The world will be safe, you’ll get all sorts of accolades in Heaven, and I…” He tried to keep his tone casual. “I’ll think of something. I always do.”

The angel shook his head again. “And if…if we fail? If Warlock does come into his powers?”

“No, Angel –”

“I’ll fight you, you know. If they order me to.” He turned to face Crowley, eyes hard and determined. But they were betrayed by the gentleness of his hands, and the way his lip trembled. “They probably will. So if the war comes, I’ll fight you.”

Crowley finally sat up, pulling his feet away. “I won’t.”

“They won’t give me a choice.” Already his expression was crumbling. “I can’t disobey an order. We’ve been adversaries so long and – And they’ll want me to hunt you down and – I – I will…”

“I won’t,” Crowley repeated, as gently as he could.

Aziraphale grabbed his shoulders, but there was no strength in his grip. “I c – I can’t choose – If it’s you or – or my side – please, Crowley, don’t make me choose.” His breath was ragged now, all but sobbing.

“I won’t.” Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel, pulling him close. “I won’t.”

“Don’t,” Aziraphale sobbed, his voice tiny with fear. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. I won’t.” Over and over, as many times as he needed to hear it. “I won’t.”

And as Aziraphale cried into his shoulder, Crowley swore to find some way to keep that promise. To hold onto his angel and the life they’d built. No matter what the future brought.

[pendragyn]

First Line Tag

I was tagged by @gaslightgallows​

Rules: Post the first lines of your last ten fics read or written and then tag others to do the same.

Tagging: @raevenlywrites​ @froglesbianwriting​ @mperialscribe​ @teaflint​ @writingamongthecoloredroses​ @moniquill @napoleonscat and I know I am forgetting people, please join in on the fun and tag me if you do!

So.. Er, haven’t read much of anything but my own stuff on AO3, trying to get back into writing because everything sucks rn.  It’s Good Omens with a dash of Discworld all the way down, below the cut.

In The Garden; pre-fall, pre-canon fic of them in the Garden of Eden.

BEFORE THE BEGINNING...

…Was darkness. That’s what happens when the sun isn’t up, and as it was almost the middle of the night —the first night, leading into the first day in the Garden of Eden— darkness was only to be expected.

The Great Plan was being set in motion. The countdown to start the countdown to the end of the world had begun. Things were getting down to the wire and the Heavens were in a tizzy to make sure everything went off without a hitch during the official launch.

Down in the Garden of Eden, all was peaceful. This was also to be expected. The only living beings in the entire Garden were two corporeal but unconscious angels reposing among the roots of the Tree. They’d been held in stasis since their incorporation a number of days earlier and weren’t due to wake until things were officially under way. Ostensibly this was to allow them to acclimate to corporeality, but in reality it was to keep them out of everyone’s metaphorical hair.

Of course, even the best laid plans never do go quite as planned, do they?

There was no Heavenly fanfare heralding the occasion, no Celestial sign except the eternal march of the stars across the sky, nothing at all to indicate that something was being set into motion as midnight of the day in question rolled around.

But down in their resting spots, the angels awoke.

Serpents And Ladders; what happens after the end of In The Garden.

After the fall of the Garden, for the first time that any could remember, change came rapidly to Heaven in the form of the instant adoption of corporeal forms amongst most of the archangels, much to the bafflement of some of the oldest Celestials who were gently prodded to a quiet retirement out among the stars. Heaven itself shifted to accommodate their altered forms, which forced the rest of the Celestials and the Elementals who did most of the day to day operations to adopt similar seemings.

Of course, Aziraphale and Crawly knew why it caught on, not that anyone ever thought to ask them. The reasoning was simple enough, if multi-faceted. Firstly, corporeality is a surprisingly potent antidote to knurd[1], with built in buffers against the harshness of reality. Really no surprise that it was popular.

Secondly, Celestial beings come in a great many shapes and sizes and types and having them all conform to one generally accepted shape was much more convenient, especially when it came to paperwork. (No one knew where paperwork had come from, since paper was technically not a thing yet, but there you go. It’s ineffable.)

Thirdly, with the increasing tensions between certain factions within the Host, having your firmament safely ensconced inside of flesh and bone made it that much harder to be spied on, making secrets that much easier to keep, especially once they discovered how to hide their wings.

And last but not least, though it took Aziraphale and Crawly a long while to fully comprehend the ramifications of it, it was because the humans began to believe, in great enough numbers, that that was how Heaven and the Host looked.

1. Being knurd is to be unintoxicated to such an extent that all comfort stories are stripped away from the mind. This makes you see the world in a way 'nobody ever should', in all its harsh reality.

Ask Not For Whom The Bell Tolls (It Tolls For They); the church in ‘41 and what happens, and doesn’t happen, after. (total tearjerker)

Crowley ran, ran and ran, heart pounding, almost blind with panic, hissing with pain as their foot hit the edge of consecrated ground, but it didn’t matter, because they were in time and like a snake shedding their skin the panic slipped away as they yanked open the door and hot-footed their way into the church under the confused eyes of a trio of nazis and an angel moments away from a fate worse than death.

A church, for fuck’s sake? Can’t the angel see it’s a setup? A trap? Dealing with nazis on holy ground, giving them holy books, even if it’s supposed to be a double-cross, a double double-cross. “Sorry, consecrated ground. Ugh, like being on the beach in bare feet.” Crowley fervently kept that thought in mind, because in reality, it was far far worse than that. Crowley was very good at imagining not being on fire, and that belief was all that was keeping them from falling to ash inside that church.

Aziraphale continued to stare at Crowley in shock, for a moment wondering if they were actually hallucinating the way humans could during moments of high stress. Because consecrated ground discorporates demons, and yet. And yet, Crowley was somehow really here. Why the he heaven is Crowley here? “What are you doing here?” Aziraphale hissed, the nazis and the gun momentarily forgotten.

“Stopping you from getting in trouble,” Crowley hissed back, dancing from foot to foot just an arm’s length away from Aziraphale. Play it cool, play it cool, play it cool, if you panic you’re both done for.

Stacking The Deck;

Harriet wanted to be asleep. She’d just had a baby a few hours earlier, and all she really wanted was sleep. They had given her something for the pain, but it didn’t stop her having to use the restroom, which was NOT FUN right now, and it took a while for things to settle back down and she just. wanted. sleep.

What she got, was voices.

A few she recognized, distant and muzzy, as the nuns who’d helped deliver the baby. There was also the one not-nun who’d shuffled in during the chaos, wrinkly as an old apple with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, who had actually delivered the baby before quickly shuffling back out again. The nuns had treated her with deep respect, whispering to each other about ‘a touch of the Old Adam’ she carried about her.

There was now a lot more raucous laughter coming from down the hallway, and some singing of what were definitely not religious hymns. Mingled in were the voices of men, which some deep part of her brain realized were from her supposed security detail, who’d abandoned her the minute the live feed with her husband had ended.

But under those voices was another voice, one that she’d learned to listen to when it whispered a little too loudly to ignore. And it was telling her to check on the baby, to check on Warlock. Right Now.

With a muffled groan Harriet slid her legs over the side of the bed and eased herself to her feet. With the dimmed lights and muddled by whatever they had given her, it took her a moment to realize that the bassinet wasn’t there. No Warlock. And no guards. And no nuns.

The coolness of the linoleum felt good against the bottoms of her feet and she shuffled dreamily out of the room into the empty hallway, too well medicated to feel panic, but the little voice was getting louder. And it was talking with an odd accent, which was weird. And it was calling her by her full name now, which was even more unusual. Find your baby, Harriet Sibyl Dowling. Find him now or lose him forever.

Nature vs Nurture; raising the antichrist

After the handshake, Crowley left in a hurry to set some of their plans into motion, with promises of talking soon and a casual ciao tossed over their shoulder before slipping out of the shop and roaring off down the road. What Aziraphale didn’t see was the demon pulled over a few blocks later, pressing their forehead against the steering wheel of the Bentley and letting out a shuddering sigh of relief that the angel had finally, finally, agreed to help them save the world. And wondered, briefly, if God hadn’t been right to kick Crowley out, because how much of a right proper bastard did you have to be to knowingly ask your best friend to do the most dangerous thing they could ever possibly do?

Aziraphale’s first course of action was to make sure the shop door was locked before retreating into the back room to think, away from the demon’s so very temping influence. It didn’t take the angel long to convince themself that it had to be the right thing to do, because otherwise it wouldn’t be hell starting the war, but heaven, and surely heaven didn’t want a war. Once that was settled, Aziraphale began to really set their mind to finding the solutions to the multitude of problems their scheme would surely entail. The second course of action was to retrieve the ancient tome of magic they kept safely secured in a secret room on the second floor of the shop and settling it reverently on to the desk to start their research.

Setting Things To Rights; Adam Young gets a visit from Agnes Nutter after the world doesn’t end.

“Come back. Please.”

Adam stared down at his best friends in the whole universe, sure his heart was breaking as they turned and ran away. He knew then he’d messed up bad, maybe beyond fixing. He tried to call them back, to beg even, but no sound would come and he closed his eyes against the sting of tears. Come back! Please! he wanted to say, pressing his hands to his tear-dampened face. I’m sorry!

  You don’t need them. You can have new friends. Better friends. All you have to do is show us the way.

A low growl and a familiar waft of doggy breath as a wet tongue lapped at his cheek had Adam opening his eyes, and he hugged Dog tightly in relief. “Oh Dog! I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered hoarsely, smiling when Dog licked him again. “I am sorry, you know that, don’t you?”

Dog whined and licked him again in answer.

“Thanks boy.” Adam let out a much heavier sigh and rubbed at his eyes when tears threatened again. The dream had been so real, too real, more memory than dream, and frightening in ways he didn’t want to think about. It hurt, knowing he’d hurt his friends so bad they’d stopped being his friends. And even though they’d forgiven him in the end, would they ever really trust him again? Especially when he could still do what he’d done? Would he trust someone who had done that to him?

In the silence there were two faint but distinct knocks that Adam heard clear as a bell. Dog’s ears perked up and Adam blinked and they both looked around the room for a source of the noise. There wasn’t much light but it was more than enough to show that nothing was out of place.

Still, Adam found himself saying, “Who’s there?”

A faint glimmering form stepped through the door. It was an old woman, dressed in really old clothes. “I have waited a long while for this meeting, Adam Young.” She bowed at him, a faint smile on her lips. “I be Agnes Nutter, witch. And ghost.”

Ineffable Bastards; the one I’m stuck on. :/

Groaning brakes pulled Crowley from their thoughts and they led Aziraphale off the bus, waiting until it had pulled away to turn towards their building. There was a sharp twinge in their stomach when they looked to the empty spot where the Bentley was usually parked. They felt another twinge when they looked at Aziraphale, who was staring up at the building with a distant blankness of expression that Crowley understood all too well. “C’mon, angel, I think we could both use a drink.”

No sound came at first, but Aziraphale managed to croak out, “Yes,” after a moment. They felt strangely distant from their feelings in the odd silence and they trailed behind the demon into the flat, which was both nothing like and exactly like what Aziraphale would expect from Crowley. The art got a few blinks but there was no energy to consider what they might mean after the day week decade they’d had.

Unlike the bare concrete walls in the other rooms, the kitchen was slick with creamy white marble and terrazzo tiles, ebony cabinets that gleamed and stainless steel appliances that had never been used or even plugged in, though they were well stocked with food and drink. Crowley grabbed a bottle at random and a couple of glasses, bringing them over to the chrome and glass table with a small collection of colorful orchids in the center. “Salute.”

The angel lifted their glass to toast before downing the drink and holding it out for a refill. Crowley obliged and they sat in silence for a while before Aziraphale asked, “Now what?”

“Eh, now I fall down and sleep for a while and you…” Crowley pulled off their glasses and gave the angel a long look. “You don’t really sleep do you? You should try it, great for getting away from your thoughts.”

“Rarely. Doesn’t seem to work that way for me, I’m afraid.” Aziraphale sighed and shook their head. “I just keep thinking about Agnes’ prophecy. Face the fire.” They shuddered a little. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

Rubbing at their tired eyes, and the sting of unsheddable tears, Crowley nodded. “You’re in big trouble, angel.”

“You know full well we’re both, as they say, in for it,” Aziraphale corrected, smiling a little when Crowley gave them a look. “I’ve toed the line for a long time, but you, my dear, have danced around it to the point that I’m not sure they even know where they drew the line to begin with. If Heaven is going to ‘fire’ me, what’s Hell going to do to you?” Saying it aloud had tears burning in their eyes and they wiped at them hastily.

Wilde Card; my take on why Aziraphale had a set of Oscar Wilde’s works.

“Aziraphale?”

“Hmm?”

Crowley tried to find a subtle way to ask, but curiosity had been eating at them to the point of distraction since the former angel had let slip that humans could have preternatural ancestry. “When you said, you’d never… with a human.”

Aziraphale gave them a confused look that melted into amused understanding when they realized Crowley was blushing. “My dear, are you asking me about my experiences?”

“Uh… Just, I seem to recall you mentioning a lot of gentleman’s clubs...” Crowley let their head drop back against the couch and covered their face when Aziraphale chuckled. “Ugh, angel!”

“I won’t judge you, you know,” Aziraphale murmured, smiling tenderly when Crowley looked at them. “If you, uh, found human companionship-”

“No! Ugh, no, it’d be like… no, I can’t help but think of them as children,” Crowley admitted. “Even Nanny Ogg, which tells you something about me I suppose,” they said, making Aziraphale laugh.

“I am in complete agreement with that sentiment,” said Aziraphale. “And it wasn’t just gentleman's clubs I frequented, there were quite a few for women if you knew where to look and who to talk to. You do know a lot more went on in the clubs than just sexual intercourse, don’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah, I should’ve known better, just, uh...” Crowley reached over and took Aziraphale’s hand. “There must have been quite a few poor smitten fools vying for your attention.”

Apple Of My Eye; complete fluff I wrote because of a pic I saw on tumblr

Crowley looked up from their mobile, barely able to contain their grin. “Hey, angel-”

“No.” Aziraphale didn’t even have to look up from the book they were reading to know the former demon was up to no good.

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” Crowley protested, still grinning at seeing the amusement crinkling around the reformed angel's eyes.

Aziraphale looked over at them with a feigned put-upon sigh. One look at Crowley’s grin had them asking, “Oh somebody, do I even want to know?”

If anything, that only made Crowley’s grin grow. “So I’m thinking maybe it’s time I branch out, try some different styles of shades. Whaddya think?”

Aziraphale spluttered into startled laughter when Crowley turned the mobile around, revealing a pair of spectacles where the rose tinted lenses had been shaped into breasts. “Why in the world-”

“Ain’t humans grand?” Crowley said, grinning down at the picture before sliding a sly look at Aziraphale and raising a hand, fingers poised to snap. “I could just…”

“You would too, wouldn’t you,” Aziraphale said with a shake of their head, pretending to go back to reading but watching Crowley sidelong. “Well I would rather you didn’t but I can’t stop you from going around looking, looking like a right proper tit if you want to,” they said with feigned primness, barely hiding their smile when Crowley laughed. “I wouldn’t want you to make a spectacle of yourself.”

“Alright angel, alright, you’ve convinced me. Wouldn’t want to put you off being seen with me.” It was a joke, mostly, and Crowley was still grinning as they said it, but inwardly that age old doubt still lingered.

Aziraphale knew it was there of course, having many of the same insidious worries about their new togetherness, and gave them a fond smile. “I assure you my dear, that having adored you in spite of that dreadful hairstyle you had in Paris, I would barely blink to see you in a pair of breastacles.”

Crowley blushed at the mention of adoration, sneered at mention of the hair and burst into raucous laughter at the name. “Only you’d think up a proper sounding name for it. Breastacles. Brilliant.” They darted in and grinningly kissed them. “And here I thought you’d appreciate me seeing the world through rose-titted glasses. But, as you wish.”

Aziraphale laughed and beamed at the phrase, taking their hand and lacing their fingers together. “Thank you, dearest. For everything. And especially for sparing everyone that.”

[xxsovereignsarayaxx]

Supernatural - Road to Revenge Chapter 5

Authors Note: I want to thank my darling @evilispretty-dead for helping me finish this chapter and reassuring me that it wasn't a load of crap. As always if you want to be tagged to keep up to date with the series let me know or is you have a request pop me an ask. After spending some time on this chapter I really do like this one and it might have been my favourite so far to write.

Word Count: 3234

Warnings: Blood, Torture, Implied Sex, Angry Dean.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

“Well, well, well.” Said the unknown voice.

It’s true when they say that once one of your senses is removed, your other remaining ones are heightened. All I could see was darkness but that was because I had something covering my face, a bag or blindfold perhaps. But the room itself was cold and had wooden floorboards judging by the creeks it made when I shifted about in the chair that bound me. The odd bit of breeze passed me as I presumed my captor circled me like a bit of prey. 

“I heard you were looking for me, but looks like I found you first. I’m Actaeon but you already knew that. You don’t seem to be wanting to put up much of a fight, it's a shame really. Your sister Nia was it? She was much more entertaining.” The voice continued in a sickerning tone. I could feel the breath right in front of my face.

“Well being trained by ‘The Men of Letters’ we were taught many things, being captured by demons happened to be on the teaching itenary. Just in time before the summer holidays.” I sassed back. 

The object covering my eyes was ripped off, the thin piece of fabric fluttered to the floor, this was the first time I had looked my captor in their eyes. Making sure to steady my breathing I didn’t want him to think that I was scared, to think that I was weak. That I knew I was not. My eyes quickly darted to parts of the room. Even though it was dark I could see the faint trickle of light coming through the door frame. I tried to twist my bound wrists but to no avail. 

“Now, now little one, it is a shame really though. I saw what you were becoming all those years ago. Cold and heartless ready to take a life when you were told to. Pity that once you fell into the clutches of John Winchester and his boys you gained the one thing I despise.”

“And what would that be?” I asked.

“Compassion.” Actaeon sneered, walking towards a table covered by the shadows. He picked up something I couldn’t see what it was but I knew that he wanted to inflict some form of pain. 

Actaeon held the knife close to my features. “You had so much potential and you wasted it all. I’m disappointed Nicole I really am.”

I shuddered slightly. “I killed your kind! Demons, monsters and ghosts you name it I was sent to kill it.” I spat.

“And who do you think helped give the locations of some of those cases you had? I needed someone to hunt down certain people so I could get a higher position in hell.”

“Yet it was Crowley who helped me track you down. He wants you gone. What was it he said to me? Oh yeah...Bad boys get punished...” I said trying to struggle away from the knife. 

“But look at the predicament you're in, a knife to your throat. No way out and even if you free yourself of your bounds you don’t stand a chance against me. But aren't you curious why I murdered your sister?” 

“I’m not stupid Actaeon you want to bait me. So I lose my temper, so you have the upper hand, you want me to cloud my judgement with my emotions. Even though it pains me to say this, Nia was an easy opportunity; she was a simple throwaway toy for you. But with her you could also kill two birds with one stone. Yes you wanted the scroll from the painting but the thing you wanted more was me. You wanted me to suffer because I killed your love. Cecilia. She was my first demon kill and what you hated the most was the fact I was just a child.” I replied to him. My voice was strong and dominating. I showed no weaknesses towards him.

“So you do remember then?” Actaeon asked me, bending down to my eye level.

“I always remember.”

Night was always the easiest to work, there were always less people about which meant less witnesses. As I ran at full speed through a puddle water droplets splashed on my face I turned the corner and I knew that my trap had worked. I clutched my angel blade in my right hand and the remains of some holy water in my left. 

“Chirsto.” I shouted and the demon fell to her knees. She looked in pain and blond curls fell over her face. 

“P-please don’t” She begged.

“You are a demon...Demons don’t deserve to live. You have taken the lives of so many people but it is ironic that you will die by my hand. A child’s hand no less.” 

I stepped closer so that I was literally inches away. I splashed the remaining water I had on the face of the demon. She screamed in agony. 

I screamed in agony, something that I was now sharing with my first kill. The knife Actaeon held moved upwards to my cheek and he dragged it down towards my neck and past my collarbone. The knife was cold as the metal touched my skin but as the blade tore through me it brought me back to reality.

“Now this is getting me excited, little one.” Actaeon said breaking the torture he lifted the knife to his lips licking the blood that dripped off the edge of the blade.

“Just do what you want to me, get it over with. You’ve killed my family and Dean and Sam? They won’t miss me when I’ve gone.” I said sheepishly. Whatever confidence I had before melted away I knew deep down I wasn’t going to leave alive. 

Actaeon continued the assault. My clothes had been torn and now covered in blood. My face, neck, torso and arms were littered in cuts. I was now nothing more than a shell of my previous self. Hell bent on revenge. And what I told Dean in the past. And when he repeated my own words to me I knew he was right.

With each cut I cried out for help.

“Revenge is a dangerous road to go down Dean! Your head gets filled with emotions and then your judgement is clouded, you don’t think straight and then that's when you get reckless. Trust me I know.” 

Recalling another memory I hung my head in shame. I knew I wasn’t the person ‘The Men of Letters’ tried to mould me to be. I was my own person. I forged my own path thanks to learning the Winchester way. You look out for those who you love. Because a wise salty hunter with a phobia of salad and lover of bullets, booze and bacon once told me that family, don’t end in blood. But it doesn’t start there either. Family cares about you, not what you can do for them, family’s there for the good the bad all of it. They got your back even when it hurts.

“Come now little one, the fun is just beginning. Now where to find your anti-possession tattoo. Shall you tell me or am I going to have to just rip every single piece of clothing from your body to find it?” Actaeon said breaking my train of thought. 

I struggled once more on my bindings, I made a mistake going after Nia’s killer alone. I needed my family. I needed Dean. Actaeon grabbed my chin tightly. “So you finally want to plead for your life?” 

“My name is Nicole Marie Williams and today isn’t my time to die.” I shouted and kicked Actaeon in between his legs. He might be a demon but even demons felt that. My blow caused him to fall to a knee and I used that time to try and wiggle free. Fresh rope burns went over the older ones but all of a sudden the door to the room flew open and two figures stepped through. 

“You’ve been a very bad boy…” Crowley says dripping with sarcasm. 

Within seconds a blast sent Actaeon across the room and pinned to a nearby wall. 

“Shall I end him Fergus?” Said the ginger haired witch I loved but hated at the same time.

“Not today mother that job belongs to Fawn here.” Crowley says slicing through the rope with his angel blade. As I shrugged out of the bindings I picked myself up, I wobbled a little and my head swam because of the blood loss from my injuries but I took the blade from Crowley and made my way over to the demon pinned by magic. 

“I can see the look in your eyes, you're scared. Now you know some of the pain my sister felt and all of the others you have murdered for sport. I hope you get what you deserve you son of a bitch!” And with that I plunged the blade into his heart. The magic that once held him vanished and his body dropped to the floor in a heap . I turned to face Crowley and Rowena.

“Thank you…” I whispered to them. 

“Well I suppose you should get back to your boys, I mean I sent them halfway across the country. Their worried sick Nicole dear.”

“I know I have a lot of making up to do, but I want to make us even.” I said as I bent down and searched for the scroll in the fallen demons pockets.

“This should make us even.” I told the demon and witch as I handed the scroll that started the whole ordeal.

“Is that...The souls of Gabriel?” Rowena asked with her thick scottish accent. 

“That mother it is.” 

“Nicole dear, I sent Dean and Sam to Oregon two days ago. If you leave now you might make it back before them.” 

I nodded my head slowly and with a small smile I handed Crowley his blade and left the building. 

The drive back to Kansas was long and grueling, I had no idea what to say to Sam nor Dean but I knew I had to come up with something. We were a family and with my actions I felt I had almost destroyed it. When I got back to the bunker I needed to patch myself up. I needed several stitches for the wounds that Actaeon had inflicted but the one thing that I had set my mind to. Cas would not be healing me, each scratch, each mark I will be remembering and if I would be left with scars then so be it. 

I pulled into the bunker late in the evening, I remember leaving where I was being held at night but I felt like I had something stuck in my throat as I saw the Impala parked in the drive. My muscles ached from everything I had been through. 

As I heaved myself from the old battered car I had ‘borrowed’ I made my way to the door. I supported my right arm with my left hand due to the deep wound. But I just stood there looking at the door handle. I was nervous...No petrified was more like it. My breathing intensified and I started to sweat and my body shook in fear. I had no idea what was happening to me but I wanted it to stop. I felt tears leak from my eyes and they made my face sting as the droplets rolled into some of the cuts on my face. With a shaky hand I reached for the handle and opened the heavy metal door. I felt like bambi on ice as I took small steps and carefully took to the stairs. I looked down to see both brothers stare at me in pure horror…

“It’s done…” I muttered as I took the last final steps to the ground. Dean had gotten up from his seat and left leaving me with Sam.

“Nik what happened?” He asked, guiding my frail body to the chairs in the library.

“What needed to be done, Actaeon is gone.” I whispered, not looking at Sam. 

I sat in silence as Sam started to patch me up, I felt the burn of the rubbing alcohol as he cleaned each one of my wounds. I felt each time the needle went in and out of my skin. But I refused to mutter a word. In the past I had been shot at, stabbed but this time I felt more pain than anything else I had experienced. 

About twenty minutes had passed and Sam had finally finished the last stitch, he tried to get some small talk out of me but I stayed silent. I looked down seeing the vast amount of bandages on my arms and the large one on my collarbone and neck. Stretching my arms I looked up seeing Sam place the unused first aid items away and throwing the used wipes and wrappers in the bin. He looked at me offering a small smile. 

“Nik, it’s ok please talk to me.” He offered as he tried to reassure me.  

I opened my mouth but then shut it just as quickly. I looked down at the floor. 

“How bad is it?” I asked softly.

“Dean’s...He...He’s angry Nik. He’s angry that you left him to deal with this on your own. That whatever was in your past you felt the need to keep from us. That you don’t trust us enough to know what happened.” Sam responded.

“What about you? How do you feel?” I whispered.

“I kept the thing about ‘The Book of the Damned’ a secret so we’re even but you never hide things away from my brother Nik, he is also pissed that you punched him.” Sam said ending his sentence with a chuckle.

“I didn’t want Actaeon to use Dean or me as leverage for one another, but I also didn’t want Dean finding out who I really was all those years ago. I thought it would scare him.” I said honestly.

“Speaking of that, what did you mean when you told Dean about running away from your old home?” Sam asked hoping you would speak to him.

“Let me get things right with Dean and I’ll tell you both everything. I promise.” I murmured 

Sam nodded. I got up from the chair and steadily headed down the hallway. Using the walls to steady myself so I wouldn’t fall. I stood in front of our bedroom door and I paused for a moment. I felt the rush of the nervousness and fear once more. With a shaky hand, I knocked on the door softly with my knuckle. Then I reached for the golden doorknob and opened the door slowly. I saw Dean sat at the edge of the bed hunched over resting his forearms on his knees. He didn’t acknowledge me as I entered the room. Cautiously walking over I sat next to him. Feeling the shift in the mattress as I sat he immediately got up heading over to the desk in the room.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked with a growl.

“WHAT WAS THAT?!?!” Dean shouted.

“I didn’t want you getting hurt.” I started letting out a shaky breath. We didn’t argue like this often. And I knew that a storm was brewing.

“I thought you trusted me? I thought we were partners?” Still keeping his voice raised.

“We are.” I attempted.

“Really? Then why did I wake up with a killer headache, flat tyres and you missing only to see one of your guns next to me and your phone smashed to bits.” 

“I had too! I...I...I...I didn’t want Actaeon using either one of us as bait for each other, he relied on emotions but I didn’t want you seeing what I was doing, I didn’t want you to see me stoop so low. Yes I made a mistake doing it alone and I released it far too late. At one point I thought I was going to die. But the reason why Nia was killed in the first place was because of me! I wanted to try and right a wrong. You of anybody should understand that. I could have made a demon deal, I could have tried magic to bring her back but I’m not you or Sam...I’m not that lucky. But what about the times when you left Sam to do your crusading. The times you left both of us even though we agreed to do it together….”

“That was different Nik and you know it!” Dean interrupted.

“How is it? How was it different?” I pleaded.

Dean just looked at me dead in the eyes. I could tell he wanted to object to what I just said but he couldn’t, from looking at him I saw how tired his eyes were, that he hadn’t had a shave in days, the stubble appearing on his jawline and features. 

“What I did was no different to what you would have done, we’re so alike and at times it's scary but it’s what makes us work! But now that this has happened and that my past is out there coming to get me I need to be honest with you and your brother and I’m going to tell you it all, yes I’m frightened by this and I’m scared at the fact you both might push me away but I also know either of you won’t do that because we’re a family. But I want us to be good before I do that. I am so sorry that I left you in the middle of nowhere, I’m sorry that you had to resort to asking Rowena for help.”

“You saw me when I was a demon Nik, you saw what I was. Hell I tried to kill you and Sam that day in this place. And yet you still loved me. You still cared. Whatever your past is it can’t be any worse than that.” Dean said softly, tears welling up in his eyes. 

“At times I think that it is.” I said softly getting up from the bed moving to Dean’s side. 

“Look what he did to you.” His fingers ghosting over the bandages.

“Head to the library I’ll meet you there, I just need to get something first.” I told him planting a kiss to his stubbly cheek and made a move to the door. But I was stopped in my tracks. 

Dean grabbed a hold of my wrist and pulled me to him, I let out an excited breath before I was then devoured with kiss after kiss. I ran my fingers through his hair and tugged on a few of the strands, Dean span round and lifted me onto his hip moving backwards to pin me against the wall, his lips moved to the exposed parts of skin on my neck planting small kisses up and down my neck and left side of my collarbone. Using his much larger hands he brought my arms just above my head and held onto them, the action hurt but in a good way and Dean knew it. I was feeling on top of the world right now thanks to the mix of dopamine, oxytocin and painkillers.

“Sam can wait…” Dean breathed.

[baronccorbin]

The Little Ones

Paring: Lucifer x Reader Prompt:  Lucifer and the reader had been together for a few months, the pregnancy went well until angels started to feel the power of their babies. Lucifer and the reader went to live at the bunker and I suck at this summary thing!   Part 1  Part 2 Word count: 3,510 Warnings: Smut, 18+

You moaned as Lucifer’s hand roamed your body, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he lifted your right leg, opening you completely for him. You rested your head on your pillow, loving the sensation of your husband’s cold fingers against your hot skin.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my love?” he asked as his hand cupped your sensible breast, his fingers pinching your hardened nipples making you throw your head back in pure bliss.

“Please” you whisper, feeling your core ache in need, you didn’t need a lot of foreplay lately, just a few touches and kisses and you were ready to take Lucifer.

“Are you wet enough for me?” he asked, letting your breast go and moving his hand towards your heat “so ready for me” he whispered, leaving a wet kiss on the crook of your neck as his finger tips brushed over your sensible lips, growling at the feeling of your wetness coating his fingers.

You moaned as his fingers started to rub your clit, soft and gentle little rubs were enough to make you moan his name loudly. Lucifer loved that, he loved to have you begging for his cock with one single touch, he loved how desperate for release you got every time, he even loved you big baby bump, he loved the possessive felling that washed over him every time he saw your stomach swollen with his children, even when now the only way he could take you was sideways on the bed, he secretly loved that too.

“Lucifer” you moaned as he thrust a finger inside of you, making your hips jolt backwards

“Y/N” he moaned as your ass rubbed against his cock, you smiled knowing how ready he was for you and repeated the action, making sure that his cock rubbed against your ass with every thrust of his finger “you want it so bad, don’t you my love?” he asked as he pulled his finger out, taking it directly towards his mouth to relish your sweetness

“Yes” you nodded vigorously making him chuckle

“Okay” he whispered before taking his cock on his hand and giving it a couple of pumps, he positioned it so the tip was right against your entrance and slowly started to thrust it inside of you.

“Fuck” you moaned, feeling his thickness stretching your walls deliciously as he kept thrusting into you inch by inch until he was inside of you completely.

He moaned as he felt your warm wall surrounding him, never feeling more completed than when he was inside of you. His hand made it way towards your stomach, rubbing slightly before pressing his palm softly against it.

“Move” you whined “please baby” and that was everything you needed to say, he started pulling out all the way out until only the tip of his cock was inside of you before pounding it inside again. Your arm reached behind you until your hand grabbed a fist full of his dirty blond hair, using it to guide his face to yours and crash your lips together.

His cold and slightly chap lips felt incredible against your soft and warm ones, and you couldn’t help but moan when you felt his tongue exploring your mouth and dancing against yours. You sucked it harshly before breaking the kiss to let a loud moan out.

“Lucifer” you moaned as you felt the pleasure increasing to the point of explosion, clenching around him as you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Come on, Y/N” he whispered in your ear as he grabbed your leg and tossed it over his to open you up for him even more, using this as an advantage to rub your clit to make bring you over the edge

“Fuck” you screamed as you came hard around him, you walls clenching around him tightly igniting his own orgasm

“Y/N” he grunted as he came inside of you, his warm seed filling completely as he rode your high.  

“That was amazing” you whispered as you felt your heartbeat starting to get normal

“It is always amazing, Y/N” he smiled making you melt even more.

You were about to respond when you heard the flutter of wings and a loud intake of breath. You jumped trying to cover yourself as you turned to meet a wide-eyed, flustered Castiel standing by the door of your room.

“Little brother” Lucifer grunted, waving his hand and covering your naked bodies with clothes “haven’t those Winchesters teach you about this little thing called knocking?”

The dark headed angel nodded before looking at you in the eyes, the little blush never leaving his cheeks.

“Apologies, Y/N” he said before looking at his brother “I thought you were sleeping, it never occur me that you would be… intimating” he looked so adorably embarrassed that you couldn’t stop the giggle from leaving your mouth, Castiel looked at you again and smiled a little, relieved that you weren’t mad at him.

“No problem Cas” you smiled, sitting up by the end of the bed “wow” you whispered as you felt the little twitch at the side of your belly

“Are you okay” Lucifer was behind you two second after, his hands rapidly moving towards the baby bump, Castiel was also really close to you, a hint of worry on his eyes

“I’m fine” you laughed, lifting your shirt to reveal your big belly “someone is up” you smiled, tapping your skin lightly with on finger and smiling even wider when you saw your baby responding the gesture,  his whole hand pressing against your skin.

“Wow” you heard Castiel say, looking in awe at your stomach

“Amazing, huh?” you smiled at him and he returned the gesture

“It is… why the other baby is not doing the same?” he tilted his head, looking back at your belly intensely

“She’s right over…” you used your hand to touch around you bump, seeking for the now familiar feeling of your baby girl pressed against you “here” you pressed your palm against the opposite side “she doesn’t really wake up until later”

“Oh” he said, still not looking at you

“This is good and all” your husband’s voice made Castiel straighten his posture “but why are you here?” he asked making you roll your eyes

“He’s your brother” you elbowed him “he’s welcome here”

“Not at 7 in the morning” the archangel scoffed

“You don’t even sleep”

“But you do” he wrapped one arm around your body, bringing you closer to him “you need rest, Y/N. You are six months pregnant with two half angel babies… you need as much rest as you can get”

“Is not like I was sleeping though” you smirked back at him making him chuckle

He was about to respond but you were interrupted again by the angel on a trench coat, who cleared his throat loudly to draw the attention towards him again, he was kind of scar you would start “intimating” again, right in front of him.

“Sorry” you whispered, feeling your face heating up

“No problem” your ‘brother in law’ smiled at you, but then his face became serious “I am here to take you with me” he stated “your babies… they are powerful, and their power can be sensed by other angels” you gasped, knowing that it wasn’t a good thing “I need to take you to the bunker, we can protect you there. Just until we can stop Michael”

“How do I know your damn Winchester won’t try to hurt her?” Lucifer almost growled, wrapping his other arm around you and tightening his hold, soon enough you saw his soft, white wings wrapping around you as well.

“Luci” you whispered but he didn’t look at you, he was too busy looking at his brother with narrowed eyes

“We are not going to harm them, Lucifer” Castiel assured “you know Dean loves her like a sister, he has been in this house, and he helped you set the Demon tramps when you moved here”

“He’s right, Love” you muffled voice was heard from inside the feather forth “you know Dean won’t do anything to hurt us”

“What about the other one?”

“Sam is okay with this too” Castiel said “even if he isn’t he won’t hurt her either… you will be there, I will be there… even Crowley will be there”

There was silence for what it felt like hours until Lucifer decided that even when he didn’t like to admit it, he wouldn’t be able to protect you by himself and he would rather lose all his pride than lose you or his children

“Okay” he sighed, unwrapping his wings from you “let’s go”

-

The first thing you felt, after the normal dizziness of being transported by an angel, were two strong arms being wrapped around you, you didn’t even need to open your eyes to see who it was, the smell of whiskey, motor oil and mint were enough.

“You’re so fat” you heard the deep manly voice of your big brother muffled against the fabric of you shirt

“Fuck off, Winchester” you groaned, shoving it to the side and faking annoyance

“Still beautiful, though” he smiled making you chuckle a little

“I missed you” you smiled

“Me too, Bobby will be here in a few hours” he informed you, taking your bag from Lucifer’s hand and walking towards your old room

“Hello to you too” Lucifer grunted as you took his hand and dragged him towards the direction Dean was taking

“Hey Luci” the older Winchester smirked making you kick his leg “Ouch!”

“Shut up” you hissed

“You had to tell him” you husband sighed as you entered your room

“Wasn’t me”

“It was me, actually” you heard the British accent from some part of the room; you turned around to see Crowley standing by your bed, a big smirk on his face.

“You promised not to talk about that, Fergus” you groaned earning a laugh from Dean

“I forgot about that name” he said between laughs

“You’ll pay for this” the King of Hell said

“Right” you scoffed “Will you send Juliet to chase me?” you asked, faking horror

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me” he ignored your last question “I need a drink” and with that, he was gone.

“Okay” Dean sighed as he calmed down “this will be your room for the next days or weeks, I don’t know” he walked towards the door, but stopped as he saw you caressing your belly “how my nephew by the way?” he asked walking towards you to place a hand on top yours

“He’s good, Dean” you smiled; taking his hand and placing it on your belly, letting him feel your hyperactive child. He chuckle in awe as he felt your son kicking his hand.

“Your niece is good too” Lucifer said as he began unpacking your clothes

“N-niece?” Dean looked at you with wide eyes “I knew it wasn’t normal for you to be this fat” he blurted out, making you roll your eyes

“She’s not fat, you ass” Lucifer scoffed, walking behind you and wrapping a protective arm around you “she’s bringing new life to this world”

“I know” Dean raised his hands “I’m kidding” he smiled at you, letting you know that he didn’t mean it “do you have names yet?”

“We are naming the girl Iris” your husband informed him, smiling proudly at the name he chose

“That’s pretty” Dean nodded “what about the little guy?”

“Dean” you said, wrapping your hand around Lucifer’s, waiting for his reaction.

“What?” he asked, looking at you with his eyebrows raised

“Dean” you repeated “we are naming him Dean” you watched as his eyes widened, realization washing over him

“O-oh… that’s… oh god” he closed his eyes before wrapping his arms around you, pulling Lucifer into the hug as well

“Are you okay with that?” you asked against his shirt

“Okay?” he scoffed as he let you go, wiping some tears from his eyes “of course I’m okay, Y/N” he smiled and you returned the gesture

“Just make sure you live long enough for my kid to know who he was named after” you half joked, earning an eye roll from the green-eyed hunter

“Of course” he laughed and you laughed too, but all the laughter was gone when a tall figure appeared by the door, it didn’t take long for the pair of wings to wrap around you once again, making you sigh and shake your head

“H-hi… Y/N” Sam muttered from the door

“Hi Sam” you smiled tightly

“Can we talk?” he asked you but he was looking directly at Lucifer who tensed behind you

“Come on, Luci” you whispered you loud enough for him to hear “we’ll just talk” he slowly unwrapped his wings but didn’t move, not until Dean tugged his shirt and dragged him out of the room saying something along the lines of ‘She won’t leave you, you already knocked her up’

“So…” you trailed off as you sat at the edge of your bed “what’s up?”

“Listen…” Sam sighed and sat next to you on the bed “I’m sorry… about everything that happened between us, about me leaving you like I did” you flinched at the memory “it wasn’t me, Y/N… it was the demon blood, you know that I wouldn’t have done that in my right mind”

“What you need to understand Sam is that you did it in your right mind” you shook your head, standing up to get some distance between you “when Ruby approached you, when she talked with you about all that nonsense, you were on your right mind” you shook your head when you saw that he was going to respond “it never occurred you that maybe your girlfriend needed to know what you were doing, all those hunts Sam, you told me they were minor and in reality you were meting her”

“I’m sorry”

“I don’t know what you want from me” you whispered

“I want you to forgive me, I want you to look at me like you used to, I want you to talk to me… it kills me to know that Dean goes to your house and sees you but I can’t”

“I will never look at you like I used to, Sam” you shrugged “I looked at you with love, but I don’t love you anymore” he winched at your words “I looked at you with respect and that’s something you lost… you lost my respect the day you betrayed me, the day you lied to me looking straight to my face. You lost the right to talk to me the day that you left me on the floor, crying for you to stay with me” you shook your head

“I’m sorry” he whispered over and over again

“I’m sorry too, Sam” you said, swallowing a lump in your throat “I’m sorry that we had to end up like that… but it wasn’t because of me… so now don’t ask me to talk to you like nothing happened, maybe someday… maybe someday I will be able to trust you enough to let you back into my life, but right now I can’t Sam”

“I… I understand” he said after a few minutes

“Good”

-

It was a weird, stressful months for everyone at the bunker. With angels trying to find you and rouge demons trying to kick Crowley’s ass, everyone was busy with research and with hunts. You didn’t ask many questions, you just listened to the updates Lucifer gave you before you went to sleep or the little information Castiel let slip out when he went to see you and the babies.

It surprised you to see Lucifer and the guys working together, especially with Bobby, who still wasn’t too familiarized with your husband. But together they managed to send Michael to the cage where Lucifer used to be, but that didn’t end there. They spend more time trying to find a way to get Adam’s body out without Michael in it; they looked for the answer everywhere but couldn’t find it.

It was a hard time for everyone, expect for Crowley who really didn’t care about it but faked sympathy when you kicked him under the table.

Dean felt guilty about the whole thing, but tried to fake a smile on his face when he was around you, not wanting to upset you and hurt you or the babies, it didn’t work though, you saw right through it and he finally broke down in front of you, letting everything go as you rubbed his back and told him everything was going to be fine, just like he had done whenever you felt bad about not saving someone.

Right now you were cooking some breakfast, tired of the food from the diner a few miles from the Bunker, you decided to make some eggs and toasts for everyone in the bunker, everyone that actually ate.

“You need to rest” Lucifer groaned for the 100th time, giving you everything you needed form the counters and not letting you do much

“I am fine, Lucifer” you rolled your eyes “I can make breakfast”

“There’s no need for that, Y/N” you heard from the other side of the kitchen where a too tired Dean stood “I can go for something”

“No need” you sighed “I’m just finshi-“ you couldn’t finish you sentence as you felt and foreign popping sensation within you, followed by a warm liquid wetting your shorts and dripping from your legs “uh-oh”

“What?” Lucifer and Dean asked at the same time following your gaze and looking at your now wet legs and wet floor

“Gross, Y/N” Dean groaned “I didn’t know pregnant woman couldn’t control their bladders”

“That’s not pee, you ape” Lucifer grunted, standing behind you and lifting you bridal-style “She’s having my babies”

“Oh shit” Dean gasped, looking at you wide-eyed “what do we do? Where do we go? Castiel!” he started panicking making you roll your eyes

“My room” you said “Call Bobby”

“How are you this calm?” Dean asked, running towards Bobby’s room with Lucifer behind him as he carried you towards your room

“The contractions haven’t kicked in yet”

-

“Come on, Y/N” Bobby padded your leg, encoring you to push again

“It’s not that fucking easy” you growled before doing as he said “AAAHG” you screamed as you pushed with everything you got, the pain making you scream more than the force you used.

Lucifer couldn’t take it anymore, he wanted you to finish as soon as possible, the little help he could give you wasn’t enough anymore

“Come, my love” he whispered, kissing your clammy forehead “I know you can do it… just our baby girl and you’re done”

“Better said than done” you rolled your eyes before pushing again

“Not so calm now, huh?” Dean asked from the corner of the room with little Dean on his arms

“SHUT UP” you screamed as you pushed harder

“I see the head” Bobby announced

“Thank God!” you exclaimed, feeling too exhausted to keep pushing for another hour  

“Just one more”

“AAAH!” you screamed as you pushed with everything you had, squeezing Lucifer’s hand for some sort of support.

“That’s it” you heard before a loud cry filled the room. Dean hurried to bring a towel and a blanked to cover your little girl with and handed them to Bobby who cleaned her and wrapped her before putting her on your lap “wanna meet your little girl, mom?” he asked

“Oh my God” you whispered as you held your baby girl for the first time. She was swollen and red and probably looked weird to everyone else but for you she was the most beautiful baby girl you had ever seen  

“Don’t forget about Casanova over here” Dean said as he placed your little boy on your free arm  

“Hey” you whispered as you saw little Dean stir in your arms, his little hand gripping the fabric of your shirt tightly  

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Lucifer asked, looking in awe and adoration at the little ones on your arms.

“Yes” you smiled, kissing his mouth softly

“Thank you, Y/N” he whispered, resting his forehead in yours and wrapping an arm around you and the babies “for loving me, for giving me a family”

“No need to thank me, my love” you smiled “you helped me with this, you made it possible when you looked for me”

“I love you” he said before kissing you once more “I love you and my little ones” he rubbed you little girls cheek and gasped when she wrapped her little hand around his finger

“They love you too, baby” you smiled “not more than me, though”

“You’re so cute it’s gross” Dean groaned

“Let the be happy idjit”

“Do they have wings?”

“We can’t see them if they do”

“That’s not fair”

“Shut up, Dean” everyone in the room groaned

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

OT3FIC: Pitbull

22 - hate locket hammock

The first time she only heard about it at the other’s querying - and she’d sat outside on the steps whining to the massive wolf for over an hour the next time he visited.

The second time, she hadn’t been at home at all and had received the text advising her that ‘he’s here again’ and then neither man had answered her calls for far too long in her book that Jo had been tempted to abandon her hunt and turn her car around immediately.

The third time, she actually spotted his godforsaken coat disappearing around the corner of the house as she came out the side door with the washing basket on her hip. He actually deigned to say the first words to her in long enough that she stumbled on the final step in surprise. That they were a slight at how domesticated she’d become felt like a slap in the face more than she ever thought that word should be.

It was after that point, when the weather was turning warmer and the fireflies were starting to float through the woods and over the field as the snow gave way to rain and then to sunshine, that she finally decided enough was e-fucking-nough.

Sitting in the swinging hammock chair, knees crossed and feet danging just off of the ground in a state of complete relaxation, she knew that it would give the desired outcome the moment he was compelled to arrive as she lent down to light the single candle and set herself swinging calmly with a push of her bare toes in the warm dirt as the nighttime creatures began to scurry back to their holes and nests as the sun began its journey across the sky for the day. Jo felt the clumps of dew coated grass and the dry dirt brushing against the bottom of her foot as she swung her feet, waiting his arrival.

“A bit early for a house call, wouldn’t you think Joanna?” The clipped tone was from behind her shoulder, as if the man had thought it made a smarter choice to sneak up on her rather than appear in front, as if it would make any difference between them that he thought he could surprise her.

As if it wouldn’t result in a deep, dark growl from the dark shadows at the back of the tree trunk as the other demon stared with yellow eyes fixed on the new arrival. Jo felt herself smirking as she turned her head slightly to see the once King appear to almost jerk to the side in the surprise of his own at the other’s attendance. As if he thought Jo would have come up with a plan that had her unsupported and alone in such a space. Not that she thought she needed any back up when dealing with this demon - the sigils carved into the tree trunk behind her ones that she’d seen as a child and copied direct from her father’s battered old journal ones that acted like those of the angelic type she had once used right before meeting this very same demon, and if that weren’t enough, she still had her knife tucked into her boot, ready to show him as good a time as those who’d been under it had if he tried a single thing - but when she’d growled out the suggestion that very first time, the solemn paw on her knee and the whispered query if he wanted to help that got an equally solemn nod had made the choice simple.

“I just thought I’d catch you on one of the gaps in my busy schedule. I’d had it mentioned how much you’d love to catch up with me sometime,” She replied, smirk wider still as the suited demon shifted away from the tree where the wolf padded forward and then stood at the ready, eyes focused entirely upon him, and moved to kick at the small alter Jo’d assembled to summon him with a look of disdain. “So since I am the busy one of us, after that whole...dethronement-”

“I was not dethroned, you tempestuous brat.” “Weren’t you? I thought you got bumped down to just the Crossroads.” “Oh what you think and what is reality is often so very clouded, Joanna.” “I doubt that very much.”

“Is this what you requested me here for? To discuss the hierarchy of your future home?” Crowley hissed the questions out, the accent making the words seem all the more sinister as he kicked at the bowl and candle again until they fell and the candle rolled to a stop near her toes and the flame suddenly flared up a little more than such a candle should ever achieve. Jo pulled her foot up for a moment before it flared back down and then out, her expression turning from surprise to bemusement. “You desperate to know where you’ll eventually fit in, are you?”

Usually such barbs from anyone else - from the asshole monster, from another demon with the most evil of intents once upon a time, from the dark haired woman and her angelic puppet, from the dark haired girl with the same face but evil intent, from the face she saw in the mirror every morning - would make her shrink, but from this one made her let out a peal of laughter into the crisp morning air as she lowered her feet to the ground fully. From the demon she all but vanquished, it was more of a joke than any comedian’s set could dream of.  “Oh, that’s funny! That’s very very funny. I didn’t know Hell had stand up comedy nights, you must have been practisin’ that set for quite a while.”

She could tell immediately that wasn’t the reaction the demon was after, as Crowley’s smirk slowly morphed into a look that would have made her shudder in fear once upon a time. That would possibly still make the hair on the back of her neck stand up if she didn’t know there was little to be frightened of while the darkness stood next to her.

“You and I both know you do not find that so entertaining an idea-” “No, but from you it’s hysterical.” “I look forward to seeing just how... hysterical you find it down the line in the depths of Hell one day, Joanna.”

“If you’re still kickin’ by then!” She rebuked cheerfully, pushing herself out of the hammock and letting the multicolored fabric swing behind her as Jo got to her feet and stepped forward, over the upturned bowl and moved to stand defiantly before the King of the Crossroads. Hands firmly on her hips, and the gentle wind of the morning not bothering her at all despite the coolness on her bare legs. “But that’s beside the point ain’t it? You want to know why I summoned you here.”

“You do know some of us are more important than others, darling, so I’d appreciate the abbreviated version. If you know what that word means.” “So witty. So funny. No wonder you’re the king’a laughs.” “I’d watch your tongue if I were you, Joanna, before you find it missing one day.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jo snarled back at his own nasty growl, and if she’d held a mirror up beside his face then she might even recognize the same curl of their lips as the pair glared at one another in hate and disdain for a long moment. Pulling back a second, not giving ground but resettling her position to herself as in control of this conversation, the blonde rolled her shoulders a few times adjusting as the demon’s own snarl turned into a dark sneer at the thought she’d backed down to him. “Anywho - you’re here so I can tell ya it’s the last time ya goin’ to be on this property.”

“What makes you think that, darling? You think that you can command-” “Oh, that’s exactly what I think, darlin’.”

There was a beat, as Jo watched the sneer trip for a second to disbelief before coming back full force with even more venom than she remembered seeing in him since she stared him down across the edge of a trap with two fingers tracing out and finalizing the symbols that would suck his borrowed power from him and back where it belonged; and taking another step back, Jo found herself smirking as she sat back down into her hammock seat as she awaited what was sure to be an explosive response.

“You dare to think that you - a pathetic, stupid, insolent and worthless little human - can command me to do anything? You believe you’re something greater than me?!” Crowley’s voice was slowly rising as he spoke, the relaxed hands in his pockets drawing out as the words spilled out of him, fists formed tightly before he stalked towards where she swung gently with a finger out and pointed straight at her as he practically bit down around the words. “You do not frighten me, Joanna, you do not dictate to me and you do not command me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong Crowley,” She replied, swinging her foot as she heard a growl coming from beside her as if trying to hurry her along or confirm that it wasn’t her commands that the demon should be worrying about but she couldn’t quite tell which. “I’m not even commandin’ you by the way - I’m givin’ you a friendly warnin’. Do not come back here again, there is nothing here for you; and if you do come back, you’ll never be able to again.”

Crowley growled in response, his hands retreating back to his pockets whereby she could no longer tell his frustrations by them alongside the twists of his face, and even glared towards the dark, furred demon that Jo felt the tickle of his fur next to her foot as she swung back a little too far. “And you, Marquis, are following the little girl’s commands too?”

Jo let out a small yelp as she felt the side of the hammock press in closer to her and then the giant wolf’s head appeared, white teeth snapping out at the other harshly, as he pushed past her towards the other at the comment. Pulling her feet up into the nest of the swinging fabric, pressed unfortunately against the hot, heavy haunches of the demon-wolf beside her, Jo looked on in surprise at the almost silent battle of wills happening as the wolf moved further - her seat swinging a little as the support left - and forced the other demon stumbling back at his approach. They looked so clearly were at odds and the match more favoring the one cloaked in fur and darkness this time around if they’d square up from what she could feel of the electricity in the air, a hand reaching up to smooth down the fly-aways caught up in the static energy radiating from the pair.

There was a moment of silence, and Jo found herself relaxing back into the warm cocoon of the woven colorful fabric that held her so comfortably and safe compared to the friction outside of her locket, before the Marquis sat down with an almost smug look upon his face as the King of the Crossroads took a minute footstep backwards.

“Well then,” Crowley’s voice was tight for a moment, his accent clipping the words off for a moment as he tugged and righted his sleeves as if they had moved even an inch from where they were supposed to be, before his eyes drew back to the blonde’s with a harsh glint to them. “What is it you believe you have to your name that gives you the right to order me about, little girl?”

“More than you could know-” “So nothing then?” “If you do not leave us be, I will show you.”

“What have you got then, Joanna?” The demon snarled back, stepping closer again and Jo could feel the way the Marquis’ head merely tilted but made no move to interject as the British man approached and held either side of her hammock in his hand, dragging her closer as if tugging open the sides of her locket to reveal her secrets. “What can you do to stop my visiting my dear friend? Or acquainting myself with your other little friend? What can you do to - what was it? - make me never do so again?”

“I’ve got-” “You have nothing, little girl. You are not a Winchester - you have no demon killing blade. You’re not an angel - you cannot sanctify me. You are nothing.”

“I have an angel blade.” Jo hissed the words out, leaning forward towards the demon’s leer as he’d ran an eye over her considering until she pushed up towards him into his own space in return. The look that flashed across his face felt powerful for her - the way there was a hint of surprise and hesitance as she shifted her weight forward, tilted towards him and pushing him back out of her domain - and pushing forward further, her hands wrapping and gripping over the demon’s own live vices as she shifted her weight, almost standing a top the hammock chair as she pressed into his realm with a sneer. “I also have a knife, still imbued with the power of Purgatory that someone so thoughtfully gifted to me.”

“You’re bluffing-” “I also have an archangelblade-” “Liar!”

“And worst of all for you? In case that driving through your heart wouldn’t be enough to burn you from the inside out all the way out of existence?” She snarled harshly, standing upright and nails digging into the other’s hands who looked up at her in a mixture of disbelief and disdain, his lips curled harshly and the flex of power and electricity in the air again as they stared one another down, the flash of shadows through the others eyes reflecting back her own fire to her. Jo could feel it - powerful and dark and making her skin crawl - but releasing her grip over his hands to hold the wooden bar above her that held her attached like the loop of a locket attached to the chain that was the tree, the woods, the field, every piece of ground that surrounded the little house far behind them, her lips twisted into a dark grin as she hissed the next words out, “I can just lock you away-”

“How.. would you achieve such a task, little girl?” Crowley returned the question with the same amount of loathing as her own words as he flexed his powers over her again trying to crush her down back from her stance; but Jo could feel something holding her upright through it as if there was something else supporting her defiance in return that she thought may have a very furred origin. “You wouldn’t be killing virgins to throw me into the less entertaining afterlife, you’re too frightened of your grubby little soul going downstairs to do so.”

“No. But I can lock you away in a little box I own.” “Oh really? A box?” “Yes, a box. You’d have great company in it. I have some... friends of yours already locked away in there.” “Do tell, little Joanna, what little box and which little friends are you trying to frighten me with? I know for a fact I’m not at all interested in seeing your box.”

Jo rolled her eyes at that, before hissing quietly. “Maybe you’ll see it the next time you’re here. And as to who’s inside?” She slowly stepped down from the fabric beneath her to solid ground, the same support helping her push through the electric-air that buzzed as she glared back with a tiny quirk to her lips in a smirk. “At the moment it’s a handful of mooks and the last of your kind I sucked into it was someone called... Sitri?”

There was a beat and then the forces from both sides that had been waging around her evaporated as the black eyed demon stumbled a foot backwards at the name while the demonic wolf jerked himself to his feet as well, pads kicking up at the dirt almost furiously for a moment as the Crossroads King jerked back even further. She’d been surprised the demon had thought himself all that when she had trapped him inside the strongest trap she had known of before a twenty-hour straight exorcism to drag the demon free of his form and into the  inky depths of her father’s heirloom. She’d looked up the name afterwards - the twelfth and a Prince at that - but all she could think at the time was just how much she needed a glass of water and a hamburger.

“You dare-” “Now, I’m not playin’ ‘round.” “I don’t believe a word of that, darling.”

“Well, how ‘bout this, Crowley,” She replied, running a hand up to pull her hair back from her face with a smile. “You head on back to your important work and then you go see if you can find who I say I have-”

“Like I believe a word you say.” “See if you can locate him, and if you can - then you know my threats are nothin’, and if you can’t...”

“If I can’t, what?” The demon returned with a smug look, as he tugged his jacket back into line and looked down at her. “I don’t come back here? Leave you and the other one to your happy little abode-”

“And leave Grey alone.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, as if Jo’s words could be seen drawn out in front of one another and waiting for the other to accept them. There was no sign to it, that Crowley was even considering their existence, until a growl started up again - as the wolf glared at the pair of them, the support for the statement but not the rest of what have been revealed - and the Crossroads King took another, almost imperceptible step backwards.

The sharpest shards of the sun’s first light streaked across the field behind him, his face thrown into the same darkness that was inside, and Jo was forced to blink first. Her hand came up to shield her eyes from the glint that went straight into her face, and when she managed to blink her eyes clear of the echo of the bright light from her gaze - there was nothing to look at and the smell of sulfur and ozone in the air.

Blinking her eyes rapidly, Jo wasn’t surprised to open her eyes to see the bright white teeth in her face, and what might be perceived in a real wolf as a rabid snarl directed right back at her as she took a step back, sinking into her woven cocoon. The wolf approached again, and stepping backwards as the fabric draped about her and she ended up against the trunk of the tree she had hung from; and giving a sigh, Jo muttered quietly, “He was causin’ trouble, and I didn’t know who it was.”

There was a louder sound, as if suspicious, for a long moment, before Jo added gently. “I don’t know how to reverse it, and I didn’t think he was even a friend of yours, anyways.” That got another noise one she thought, as the shape stepped away and then turned to prowl off towards the house without another look at her, that was more of a laugh than she’d ever heard before from the demon.

Tucking her feet up under herself again as the sun started to warm up the air as well as the sky, Jo bit down on her bottom lip as she started to swing gently, wondering to herself if she’d once again succeeded in something to do with the foul demon.

[mishaandthebrits]

December 9

Fandom: Supernatural Pairing: Crowley x Reader - light smut -

                       Your brothers Sam and Dean didn't know your secret and hopefully would never even think about it. You were dating the king of hell. For two years the two of you were happy and able to hide your relationship from the brothers. Currently the two were on a hunt alone as you had stayed behind in the bunker so you texted Crowley. I'm all alone... want me to join you my king? You grinned upon sending the text and seconds later found yourself in hell in front of his throne. 

"Hello my Queen.", your boyfriend spoke from behind you and you felt his body against yours. Immediately you smiled and turned around. "Hello my King. How may I please you today?", you spoke and bowed in front of him smirking. "Oh fuck, you know what that does to me darling.", he spoke with a thick British accent showing you how aroused he already was, because usually he was able to control his accent way better. "What does it do to you majesty?", you asked him biting your lip and before you could blink your wrists were held by his hands and you stood against the wall feeling his boner against your lower stomach. "You know that already don't you my smart cookie? You always know which buttons to press in order to make me fuck you.", Crowley groaned in your ear leaving you grinning with a challenging expression. "Well... are you gonna do that now then?", you asked him but he groaned annoyed. "I would love to, but your pain in the ass brothers are summoning me.", he rolled his eyes and leaned down to you. "Stay here? I'll be back soon and we can continue this then." Once you had nodded smiling Crowley was gone and you walked through hell. Every demon greeted you knowing who you were all too well and figuring that either you or Crowley would kill them in case they disrespected you. Your lovely boyfriend had made sure of that. Back in his throne room you sat down on his chair and placed your legs over the arm rests relaxing. "I have to admit I could get used to this view.", you suddenly heard your boyfriends thick accent and smiled at him widely. "Well my king, you always tell me I'm your queen so I assumed the throne is yours to share.", you grinned as he walked up to you. "Well it indeed is my gorgeous queen.", Crowley replied and leaned down to gently kiss your lips. "What did my annoying brothers want this time?", you asked after he had pulled away a while before. "Apparently my mother is back and they needed a little helping hand in dealing with her.", your significant other groaned making you place your hand in his hair. You stroked his head humming softly as this always helped him relax. "Rowena is back? Do you want me to kick her butt?", you offered and he laughed. "You offering to kick my mothers ass makes me love you even more Y/N."

[huntertales]

Preview: Twisted Nerve. (Let It Bleed S06E21)

Episode Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester’s worst nightmares come true when the reader is taken hostage by Crowley after her demon side is freed. But things only grow worse when Lisa and Ben Braden are kidnapped as well, forcing the brothers to work with an unlikely alley to save the people they love. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warning: Demon!Reader, mentions of violence.  Word Count: 4,704.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

“Hello, darling.“

Wasn’t it every girl’s dream to wake up to the sound of of a lovely British accent? For some, perhaps. If they were into that sort of thing. For you, it was a nightmare you were about to wake up to. You had been silent for weeks now. The last time you had gotten free was...you didn’t even know when. You had been a passenger in your own skin for decades. And even when you were front and center, there was always a little voice in the back of your head, pulling you back from what you really wanted to do. You had been in the cage for all of a hot second before you were released with that bitch still attached at the wheel. This time around you were freer than you had ever been in your entire existence, but there was a guideline that only let you come free when the time was needed for others. You knew Crowley was alive well before Eve opened up her mouth. But you didn’t think he’d go an awful long way to have a chat with you.

You slowly inhaled a breath as you found yourself awakening from what felt to be a deep slumber. You blinked once, letting your eyes turn, showing the kill of hell what side he was presented with. Crowley stood over you with the same kind of smirk you remembered when he told you the good news of your departure from the cage. And the rules that needed to be followed unless you wanted to take another trip down below. You returned his smirk with a cold, unamused expression. You moved your gaze away from the demon to inspect the scenery you were surrounded by, along to find that angel, figuring he probably ratted you out long ago.

"Where's the wet blanket?" You weren't in the mood for proper greeting as you looked away from the demon. You half expected Castiel to be around here somewhere with that blank expression of his, standing in the background as Crowley conducted things his own way. You furrowed your brow slightly as you looked around the abandoned building until someone caught your attention, but it wasn't the angel. What caught your attention was someone that sat across from you. You moved your arms slightly, wondering if this was some kind of trick. Only you noticed two things. The body remained lifeless as you moved your limbs all on your own. No voice telling you to stop. "What the f—"

"Marvelous, isn't it?" Crowley inspected the real body for himself as he placed his hands behind his back. You weren't sure if this was some kind of joke. But the pain that shot up through your leg when you pinched yourself and no nagging voice in the back of your head reacting to what you did. "You see, I do keep my promises. Even though you doubted me to Castiel.”

Crowley nodded his head, as if he was giving you the go ahead to do what you secretly wanting to do. He stepped back out of the way as you took your new body out for a test spin. You felt like Ariel from that God awful Disney movie after she sold her voice to Ursula for a pair of legs to win over a man. You wiggled your fingers and toes, feeling everything move in perfect sync when you did. It took a little brain power to realize that you were free...you were really free. You found yourself walking over to the unconscious body so you were standing over it. You reached out to lightly kick her, she responded by inhaling a breath before dropping back down.

You outstretched your arms in front of you to inspect every little detail of yourself, just wanting to make sure this was real. You were a carbon copy of the woman. How they managed to pull it off was a mystery to you, but you’d be foolish to bite the hand that provided you with such a generous gift. All you knew was that she might have been the original design, but you were the better upgrade. You had everything that made Y/N for who she was. What Lucifer intended her to be. She lost it forever because she wanted to be normal. And now, after much obstacles, the both of you got what you secretly desired. She was nothing more than a piss poor human like the rest of them.

Since Y/N learned the truth about herself, she dreamed for this day to come. You’d wanted the chance to be able to control your own body without a second voice chiming into the background or someone attaching strings onto your limbs, only coming out when someone yanked on you when they needed something done. While this was a freeing experience, the devil was still in the details. You weren't convinced the king of hell was doing this out of the goodness of his own black heart. There was always a leash pulling you back from where you really wanted to go. The only way someone like you got their strings clipped was for the preparation for the end. You crossed your arms over your chest and turned your attention back over to Crowley. You wanted to get to the bottom of this before your hopes, high as a demon could get them, would be crushed.

"What's the catch?" You questioned the demon. Crowley pretended to be confused at what you were asking him, you narrowed your eyes on him as you swiftly turned yourself on your heels, suspecting there would be an angel in a trench coat behind you, waiting ever so patiently to smite you. Only there was nobody there. "I know that angel is around somewhere."

“My guess is Oz. Maybe even Chicago. I don’t know, nor do I care at the moment.” Crowley said with a simple shrug. You found his attitude a tad bit unusual. The angel and demon had been attached at the hip since Crowley proposed the idea of cracking open the door to purgatory. He waved a finger for you to follow as he began walking, leaving your doppelganger where she was. "As you way know, Castiel has a big mouth and accidentally let Nancy Drew and the Hardy boys on our big plan. Causing more messes I have to clean up."

“Well, they were bound to find out your genius plan.” You muttered underneath your breath. You and the demon changed scenery away from the abandoned run down building into what looked to be an office of luxurious standards from its sleek wooden desk and velvet lined chairs. Crowley sat himself down at the opposite end of the desk as he poured himself a drink before offering you one. You graciously accepted and sat yourself down on possibly one of the most comfortable chairs you had ever been on. "My, don't I feel fancy."

“As you should. It’s my intention for those who I do business with. And I have a proposition for you, Y/N. You do still go by Y/N, do you?" Crowley asked, you gave him a funny expression from how formal and polite he was being as you nodded your head. "It's come to my attention that you don't like me. Or how I choose to run hell."

“Yeah, I don’t. Demon's aren’t what they used to be. Even the newest demon straight out of hell wouldn’t have cracked fast as Redd—you know, that hick you hired to do all your dirty work. Bobby Singer took one stab with that fancy knife and twisted it in that idiot's leg before it was all over. He was so willing to get that pain to stop he would have confessed all of his sins for it to stop. That's not how demons should be. You aren't instilling fear for what would happen if they spill their guts." You told the king of hell how you really felt about how he operated things, expecting every word you spoke to be your last one. But Crowley sat there with a serious look on his face, as if he was listening to you. “You’re not running this place like how Lucifer intended it to be.”

"Lucifer. What does he know about torture? He's a whiny child was an imaginative idea, hellbent on destroying the world and taking us with him. Well, not you." Crowley said. "Thanks to him, I got myself wrapped up in that bloody apocalypse mess.

"Yes. But if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be in this swanky office." You pointed out an interesting fact for him to stop talking so poorly on the archangel who was your God, a Father to all of you. In a religious sort of way. You leaned back in your seat and brought the glass to your lips as you crossed one leg over the other. "Poorly managing something that was wrongfully given to you."

“I’ll agree with that. So let’s change that.”

“How?”

“Purgatory, as you know, has been a burden. Castiel and I haven’t seen eye to eye about how we want to do things. I propose we add another name to the wall. Let's talk partnership." Crowley's proposal was something that piqued your interest. You raised your brow slightly in curiosity as you sipped on the whiskey. "You and I want the same thing. For hell to run smoothly. So let's do it. Work with me. Not for me."

You were about to take another sip of your drink until you heard those unbelievable words being spoken, it took you by complete surprise. You froze in your spot and looked at the demon. The proposition of such a deal made you break into a smile as you chuckled, the response wasn't what Crowley expected as his facial expression dampered slightly. "You know, I didn't think you had a funny bone in that poorly chosen meat suit of yours. But...that's cute. Real cute. You attempting to, what, make me feel comfortable? Sweet talk me into a big plan that sounds too good to be true, and right when my guard down you're gonna kill me."

"A king his nothing without his queen."

"Lucifer promised me power, too. Look at where he ended up."

"I'll go halfsies on the souls with you from my cut with Castiel." Crowley proposed a deal no demon would be stupid enough to deny. He knew it got your full attention when you changed your body language. You lowered your glass to the desk and uncrossed your legs to move slightly forward, wanting to hear more about this. "Hell, as you know, is a full time job. And something like you is one of a kind. My God, the things you did to those poor bastards would be Alistair to shame. You worked just as hard for those souls as I have. I need someone like you to run things. Make demons stronger, better than we've ever seen."

"You're serious." You whispered.

“I've had time to think what you meant to me while you were away. And I admit, it took some soul searching to realize I'd be a fool to lose you. The both of us make a beautiful couple. Think of what we could accomplish with you torturing souls and my expertise of keeping them in line. It'll be the best sort of hell we've ever seen." Crowley said. You had to admit, you were liking what the demon was selling you. "However...there is one little problem standing in the way of accomplishing our dreams. I'm fairly certain you despise the Winchesters much as I do."

"Unfortunately. Just thinking about them gives me indigestion. I'm gonna take a wild guess and all of this plan you had with that other one—Josh—wasn't just to get me free. It's insurance. You're gonna nestle Y/N away somewhere and threaten the Winchesters to back off." You guessed what was Crowley's end game. The demon's lips stretched into an arrogant smirk at his genius plan being spoken out loud. Your lips stretched into a smile, but it wasn't out of kindness. "That has to be the most overused, sloppiest idea I've ever heard."

"I think it's a classic." Crowley defended himself. "It works—”

"Zero percent of the time. And you also forgot the other player that has a personal connection with Y/N—Castiel. Don't you think the second he realizes what you're doing he's going to run to the Winchesters? The three of them together, and with Bobby, is a forced to be reckoned with." You said. "Come on, Crowley. I know you can do better than that."

“If you think you can do better, fine.” Crowley said. “What would be your big plan?”

“Let me just say this. Power is like a seesaw. You let your opponent have too much, you’re left up in the air with your feet dangling up from the ground. If you attempt to get down it only ends with you getting hurt. And if you’re the one who has it all, your knees start to get tired from carrying all that responsibility. But when it’s balanced...it’s perfect. Threats work the same way.” You said. "We make Castiel and the Winchesters do what we want. But Y/N's only part of the plan. If Castiel runs to the boys, all of them will forget their differences and do whatever they can to get her back. But if we get someone else they also care about..they're stuck in the middle."

"I have to admit, I like where this is going. Tell me more."

"How do you feel about endangering the life of a child?"

+ + +

Dean should have been reading the journals of past family members who lived decades before him. Most of the entries he skimmed were about monsters he hunted and lore he already knew. What kept his full attention was the little scrap of paper tucked into the spine of the opened journal. Your message you must have left late into the night was the only thing he could he could focus on, and how angry you were at him for what he did. Withholding the truth had been what almost tore your relationship apart. He promised he would always be honest when you came clean about everything. But he trusted an angel he called his friend over you, someone he knew the second you were born.

It wasn’t that he lied to you because he didn’t trust you, it was because he didn’t know what else to do. Dean knew how hard you tried to keep your urges under control while working on a way to make yourself human. He felt if he told you the truth it would crush you. All your life you had carried that burden on your shoulders. He wanted you to be blissfully ignorant to the situation before he could find a way out of this. Only it turned out the same person he trusted to solve this problem ended up being the one who caused it in the first place. Dean was left sitting in Bobby's library with his head propped up in his hand as he mindlessly stared off into space, mentally beating himself up for his past choices.

Sam sat at the desk you had been occupying twelve hours ago while you drank half a bottle of whiskey Bobby had kept hidden away. You found his stash and sat alone in the dark while the boys slept. The younger Winchester knew you had taken all of this information harder than you were willing to admit. His brother was beating himself up over what he did. “Well, what else were you supposed to do?” Sam's voice broke the man's concentration out of his own personal thoughts, knowing exactly what they were about. "None of us expected Cas was working with Crowley. Especially on this level. You did what all of us would have done."

"Yeah, a fat lot of good it did. I've called Y/N ten times and she hasn't gotten back to me. Why the hell did Cas come last night? Whatever they talked about, it sure got her even more pissed." Dean said. He shook his head as he dropped his hand down to his lap. Dean had woken up only for a moment to hear voices coming from the kitchen, recognizing them as yours and Cas'. They were too quiet for him to hear what you were discussing. Whatever it was, you left shortly after. Dean shut the journal and pushed himself up to his feet, having had enough. “Well, Samuel’s journals are pointless. I mean, I’m sorry, but Jebediah Campbell has squat to tell me about how to stop Cas from cracking purgatory open.”

"Well, actually, it's not about the journals we have. It's about the one we don't." Bobby stepped into the library where he found both of the boys around the desk. Sam wondered what the older hunter meant by that. "Well, that's the bad news. Our pal, Cas, didn't stop in last night just to mend fences. And I don't picture Y/N as the kleptomaniac type."

Dean didn’t like the sound of this. He pushed himself up into a standing position after he had been leaning against the desk before the older hunter came into the room and discussed some news about the angel that only painted him worse. “What did he do?”

“Stole something. The journal of one Moishe Campbell.” Bobby said. Sam repeated the name, finding that to be the oddest thing he heard come out of the hunter's mouth. "Of the New York Campbells."

"What—So we gotta get it back, right?" Sam asked. He had a sneaky suspicion the journal was an important one if the angel was committing theft in the middle of the night. The big question was, how the hell were they going to get it back from something like Cas. However, Bobby was one step ahead of everyone, saving the day.

“Or just read the copy I had already made.” Bobby said. He handed over the manilla envelope he had grabbed from upstairs after discovering the journal was taken. Dean seemed impressed at how smart the older hunter was. "Hi, glad to meet you. Bobby Singer, paranoid bastard."

Since the journal was an unbound photocopy, each of them took a third of the pages to read and see if they could find anything useful. Dean had been distant from his work while Bobby took the chair he had been occupying not too long ago as Sam had his nose buried in the papers. The older Winchester fixed himself a cup of coffee while he tried, yet again, to call you. All he got was the same voicemail that greeted him for at least the dozenth time. And each time, he left you a message apologizing for what he had done. This time Dean snuck in the detail about the journal. He knew you might have been mad at him, but you wanted to stop Cas as much as he did.

Dean pocketed his phone and headed back to the library with two mugs in one hand and approached Bobby when he guessed he zeroed in on some useful information. "What do you got?" He asked, reaching for the journal entry Bobby had been reading. He skimmed the paper as he walked over to his brother to hand over the coffee. “‘Went to talk to Howard Phillips about the events of March tenth.’”

“That’s March 10th, 1937.” Bobby added a date as if that was supposed to mean something.

“All right,” Dean sat himself down on the edge of the desk and continued to read through the rest of the entry to himself to understand why it was so important. “So who’s this Phillips guy?”

"Phillips ain't his last name." Bobby corrected the older Winchester. "It's Lovecraft."

“Wait, H.P. Lovecraft?” Sam guessed the name he recognized who the hunter mentioned. He reached out a hand to grab the piece of paper from his brother and started to read it for himself. “Let me see that.”

“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Dean asked the older hunter when his brother was reading the entry with fascination. Bobby stared at him like he just grew a second head through his shoulder. The man said this Lovecraft guy was a horror writer and listed off a few iconic titles like At the Mountains Of Madness, The Call of Cthulhu. Dean kept staring at him with not a single clue of what the hell they were talking about. “Yeah, it's—no, I'm—I was too busy having sex with women.”

Bobby rolled his eyes from the kind of remark that he should have seen coming from the older Winchester. "Anyhow, there's one notion that comes up over and over again in his stories. Namely, opening doors to other dimensions and letting scary crap through."

“You don’t say.” Dean said, seeming to become more interested in this Lovecraft guy.

"So you're saying you think Lovecraft knew something about purgatory?" Sam wondered, Bobby shrugged his shoulders at the lack of information he could provide.

“All I know is Moishe paid him a visit.” Bobby said.

+ + +

While the Winchester brothers and Bobby were discussing the Lovecraft and purgatory business, you were getting started on the second phase of the plan. You let out a low whistling tune as you adjusted the sunglasses you wore to block out the sun's rays on this afternoon as you tracked down the house number of the Braden household, the one that Dean insisted on renting after uprooting that poor family from their old one after a couple of djinns broke in. If only Dean knew what was about to happen to the woman he pretended to care for and that kid who tried to raise as his own. You would do anything to see the sheer panic on his little face.

You wanted this plan to go in a much different style than what you had originally planned. You were thinking about going up to the front door and be greeted by the lovely sight of Lisa, only her smile would fall at the sight of you and your teary eyes, here to break the news that Dean was dead. That's when you would lull her into a safety before making your way. Crowley decided why be so cautious? Go in for the kill. He gave you a few of his men and let you make an appearance, but you didn't need to lift a single finger. The perks of being in charge of hell is that not all of those demons are like Redd, some of them are strong and willingly to do whatever you ask them. So, you took the demon up on his offer.

You approached the front door of the house you had never personally been to. While it looked sweet and homey from the outside, it wasn't going to look like this for very long when you got done with it. Yo knocked on the door and waited a moment before the person you were hoping for would answer it. Your lips stretched into a warm smile when Lisa Braden stood in the doorway, appearing startled at who she saw, only she had reason to believe it was someone far different than who she expected.

“Lisa,” You greeted the woman in a friendly tone as you pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head for them to rest. Your smile grew wider when you blinked, letting your eyes turn the shade of black Dean had warned her about to run from. "I don't think we've been personally introduced before."

Lisa's natural reaction was to shove the door in your face fast as she could, but you were quicker than her. You shoved your foot into the track and placed your weight on the door. You shook your head as you heard the window right next to the door broke, the demon you brought along made their move. You pushed your way inside when the first one grabbed the woman as the other went for a man you hadn't seen before. You rolled your eyes when Lisa pleaded for you not to hurt them as she struggled to get out of the demon’s grip around her. You ignored her as you focused your attention on the man the other demon had in a choke hold.

"Matt, right? The doctor I heard so much about. He's cute. An upgrade from the last guy you were screwing." You looked over your shoulder and gave Lisa a playful wink at her choice of men. She didn't seem amused as you had when her expression didn't change from panic. You looked over at the demon holding him and made a cutting motion with your hand at your neck. "I don't think we need him."

The demon nodded his head, and with a simple twist, Lisa let out a panicked cry when she saw her boyfriend all of a few months fall to the ground. You placed your hands on your hips as you let out a sigh of a job well done, seeming unfazed at what you witnessed. The woman stared at you with a disturbed expression. She learned little about you from Dean, all she knew was that you were partially something of the supernatural beings that all of you hunted. He never told to be warned about the black eyes and coming out of the blue and killing her boyfriend.

“What the hell are you?” She couldn’t help herself but ask. You walked over to her and stood right across from her to show the same malevolent eyes you had greeted her with.

"I'm your worst nightmare." You whispered to the woman in the tone of voice that sent a shiver of fear down her spine. The frightening expression only lasted for a second before you let out a laugh as your persona changed along with your eye color again from her reaction you found nothing short of amusing. “My God. What did Dean ever see in you?"

You moved your gaze to the staircase when you noticed Lisa's eyes darted over to the top for a split second before focusing back on you, acting as if you wouldn't notice. But you did. And you almost forgot about that little brat. You began walking to the staircase as Lisa began to try fighting the demon that was holding her when she figured where you were going. You reassured the woman that you weren't going to touch a head on Ben's head. You stood on the second stair and waved a finger at the demon for him to follow.

You continued on your way upstairs and began whistling the same tune again while you went on your search to find Ben so you could greet him the same way you did with his mom. You checked every room before finding the only closed door at the end of the hall. You decided to do the honors when you stepped back and swiftly kicked down the door. Pieces from the broken door and chair you broke littered the carpeted floor as you stepped inside the bedroom of one Ben Braden. Your lips stretched into a smile when you saw the kid trying to make an escape from the window. You nodded your head for the demon to take Ben and join his mother. As he did so, you looked down at the ground to see there was a cell phone with a current call.

"I'm coming to get you and your mom, I promise...Ben? Ben?"

You bent down to pick up the phone when you heard the familiar voice of a hunter you hadn’t personally spoken to in a long time. You placed the phone on speaker when you spotted the king of hell stepping into the room to inspect the job well done. You decided to be the one to speak, greeting the hunter with a voice he sure wasn't expecting. "Hi, Dean. Fancy a chat?”

[Next Part]

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[pink1031]

You’ve Woken Up The Demon in Me. Part-1

Characters: Demon!Dean x Reader, Crowley, Castiel, Cole

Warnings: Violence, non-con, dub-con, language, rough sex, oral (male and female receiving),angst, smut, choking, general abuse, fluff (just a little), 

A/n: This is not for the faint of heart.  It is very dark (like my soul). Demon Dean is by no means fluffy at all.  This follows Season 10, episodes 1, 2, 3 with a reader insert. I did not follow everything exactly, but much of the dialogue is there and the same premise. Sorry if this is pure trash. Part 1 does not follow the show.  All mistakes are my own.  Gif is not mine. 

Word Count: 5258

@build-a-pyre

"Sam?" you asked as you sat up on the edge of the bed wiping the tears from your eyes. There was deep chuckle "Guess again, brat.'" Your head snapped up in surprise.  It couldn't be.  "Dean?" your voice was shaky with fear and hope. "You know it." you could almost hear the smirk in his voice. You jumped up from the bed and ran the short distance across the room to him wrapping your arms around his chiseled waist. "Oh my God Dean."  You hugged him as hard as you could not ever wanting to let go.  His strong arms encircled you completely holding you tight against him.   A soft growl filled his throat as his head dipped down to rest against the top of yours.  "God you smell so fucking good." he whispered. Your body stiffened as Dean's hands started sliding lower and he roughly grabbed your ass.  "And so fucking soft" he growled again. "What?" you looked up at him with confusion on your face. Dean's mouth crushed against yours stifling your whimpered cry.  He quickly had you pinned against the wall. You squirmed in protest, your small hands pushing at the wall of his chest until he finally broke the kiss leaving you breathless. "What the hell Dean?" You were dumbfounded, something was wrong here. "Exactly." he grinned as he blinked and you were suddenly staring into solid black pools. Your scream echoed in the room for only a moment before Dean's large hand covered your mouth.  You tried to fight against him but he was so strong you could barely move. "Uh uh darlin'.  You need to be quiet for me so we don't wake Sammy." He blinked again and his piercing green eyes were staring down at you.  "Now, if I take my hand away are you going to be a good little girl?" You nodded and he slowly let his hand fall away.  You drew in a deep breath before screaming as loud as you could "Sam!" You had no time to react as a quick backhand from Dean sent you crumpling down to the floor. Your body went limp almost instantly as the blackness enveloped you. You awoke with your head pounding and the side of your face aching. Your eyes blinked as you tried to figure out where you were but you were disoriented to say the least.  You heard voices and the rumble of an engine. You were in the Impala, in the back seat, face down.  You tried to move but found your arms were handcuffed behind your back. You tried to stay still as you heard Dean talking in the front seat. Slowly your mind began to clear as you tried to focus on his conversation.  Your blood boiled as you heard the thick accent from the front seat. “I still don’t understand why you had to bring her along.” Crowley scoffed.   “Because I wanted to.” Dean said simply. “If you wanted a toy we could have easily found you one, hell ten, at the next bar.” Crowley rolled his eyes at Dean.  When Dean didn’t respond Crowley continued. “She is going to be trouble and this will bring Moose after you quicker.” “I will deal with my brother and as for Y/n, she isn’t going to give me trouble.  Are you brat?” You didn’t answer.  Your eyes closed as you tried to feign being passed out.  A sharp sting to your ass from Dean’s large hand broke the charade and made you yelp. His fingers dug into the stinging globe of your ass cheek hard enough to bruise making you squirm and whimper. Dean laughed darkly. “I know you were awake darlin’.  Might as well join the conversation.” You grunted as you struggled to roll over and shift your body to sitting without the use of your hands.  You finally managed and you were sitting in the middle of the backseat.  Dean was staring at you in the rearview mirror. The anger was clear on your face. “I don’t know what kind of piece of shit low level demon you are but I swear to God if you don’t get out of Dean I am going to end you.” You spoke between clenched teeth. “Darling, the only demonized soul inside of Dean is his and his alone. Wee bit more twisted, a little more mangled beyond human recognition, but, I can assure you, all his. There, now. Feel better?” Crowley chuckled. “Bullshit!” You snapped back “It’s true.  You see that pesky little mark on his arm didn’t want to let him go so” he gestured to Dean “this is what you get.” “It’s all me brat, 100% Dean, just without all the guilt and emotion that always gets in the way. I’m finally seeing things for how they really are.” Dean smirked back at you. “What do you want with me?” You asked as you stared at Dean’s eyes in the mirror.  You were trying to keep the conversation going.  Trying to keep them occupied as you squirmed softly, your wrists twisting in the cuffs trying to free yourself.   “You’ll find out soon enough” Dean grinned as he stole another glance back at you. “ And if I were you I’d stop messing with the cuffs.  I’d hate have to mark up your pretty little face again.” He winked at you and another flood of anger rushed over you and you let loose a string of swears and threats from your lips. Dean laughed at your threats, making fun of you “You are so damn cute when you are mad, brat.” He chuckled.  That just pissed you off even more and you did the only thing you could think of.  You kicked the back of his seat hard enough that he lunged forward against the steering wheel losing control of the car for only a moment. You quickly leaned further back against the seat bringing your booted foot up to connect with the back of his head.  He cursed and growled swerving the car over to the side of the road and throwing it in park before jumping up out of the driver seat.  He yanked the back door open and grabbed both of your legs pulling you towards the door.  You tried to struggle but even on a good day you were no match for Dean’s strength.  He pulled you down until you were half hanging out of the car, your low back resting on the edge of the seat. Your legs were between his as he towered over you.   “I could kill you right now.” Dean stared down at you his eyes had gone to the pitch black.  You could feel the anger radiating from him but his voice was even and calm and that scared you even more. His large hand closed around your throat easily, not squeezing but just tight enough for you to know he could if he wanted to. “But you won’t.” Your voice came out a lot more shaky than you had hoped.   He grinned then, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “No, I won’t.  I want to play with you first.” He laughed.  “Now, last chance, are you going to be a good little girl or do I need to knock you out again?  I’m good either way.” He smirked. You took a deep breath and weighed your choices.  You choked the words out not liking the taste of them on your tongue. “I’ll be good.” He laughed and his eyes blinked back to the moss green that were so familiar to you.  “Smart choice.” He spoke as he shoved you roughly back into the car before climbing back into the driver’s seat.   The three of you were on the road for hours before finally pulling into a motel parking lot.  Dean sent Crowley to get two rooms for the night.  When Crowley came back with the keys Dean took one in hand and opened the back door to the car holding it open for you.  “Come on brat.” He ordered. You huffed but slid out.  He grabbed one of your arms in his large hand and tugged you to the room.  When Crowley followed the two of you into the room Dean looked over his shoulder and growled at the king. “Get out.” Crowley huffed.  “So much for howling at the moon, huh?” Dean smiled at him “I’ll meet you in the bar across the street in a little while.” Crowley nodded and left the room. Dean still had your arm in his tight grip as the door clicked closed. He quickly pulled you to him, crushing your soft frame against his body.  His lips met yours in a hungry kiss. Your body froze but he was insistent. His lips moved against yours, his tongue danced across your mouth wanting entrance.  You cursed to yourself as you felt the heat spread over your body. He still smelled like your Dean, his body still felt like all the times you had hugged your Dean.  Your brain was screaming at you that this was not really Dean but your body had another opinion all together.  Your lips parted for him almost instinctively. He groaned as his tongue dipped between your lips to taste you.   “So sweet,” he whispered before deepening the kiss, claiming your mouth with his. You whimpered and squirmed against him as his hands began to move over you.  His large hands caressed up and down your arms, sending goosebumps along your skin. They moved over your shoulders and down your back to rest firmly on your ass pulling your hips tighter against his body. You gasped into his mouth as his arousal was evident against your hip.  He finally broke the kiss and stared down at you.  His eyes were filled with lust.   “No, please Dean.” You whimpered, knowing you couldn’t trust your body. “I know you want me.” Dean whispered, his voice raspy with his desire. “I want my Dean, my Dean would never do this.” You pleaded with him. “Your Dean?” he chuckled.  “I’ll let you in on a little secret. Your Dean wanted to fuck the hell out of you but he was scared. He was too scared to get attached so he never acted on it, but darlin’ he thought about it every time he saw you.” He stroked your cheek softly “But the new Dean, he isn’t scared.  He is going to fuck you until you can’t walk.” You felt your knees grow weak as the sudden ball of heat coiled low in your body at his words. You were surprised when you were quickly spun around with your back to Dean and you felt him undo the cuffs to free your arms.  You quickly pulled your arms from behind your back and were prepared to fight.  Before you could spin back around to face the demon Dean’s arms quickly wrapped around you from behind and held you tight against his hard body pinning your arms at your sides.  His lips moved to the curve of your neck kissing and sucking at your soft flesh, his ivory teeth scraping along your skin.  You squirmed against him. “Dean, stop.” You tried to break free from his grasp but you could barely move. “I don’t want this.” He growled against your ear and it made you shiver.  “Your mouth keeps saying no, but baby your body is screaming for me.” His tongue darted out to lick over the shell of your ear before he tugged it between his teeth.  His large hands moved to glide over your breasts finding your nipples so hard under his touch.  “See little brat, your nipples are hard, your trembling against me, your breathing is heavier, face flushed.” As he continued to talk his hands moved over you, squeezing your breasts before sliding down along your sides, his fingers splayed as they danced over your stomach.  Your eyes closed tightly as you tried to fight the desire that his touch caused.  “And I bet if I let my hand slid inside those cute little panties you are wearing you would be soaking wet for me. Aren’t you darlin’?” You refused to answer, you bit at your full bottom as Dean continued to grope and explore your body with his large hands.  He chuckled as you tried to fight the feelings but he knew he had you. He knew how bad you were aching for him.  You hadn’t even noticed that as his hands teased against you your hips were grinding your rounded ass back against his crotch.  You didn’t notice but Dean did.  His lips found the curve of your neck once more, sucking and biting your skin until he left purple bruises to mark you.  His hands slid lower and your own hands balled in fists at your side trying desperately not to reach back and touch him.  He held your hip in one tight grip as his other hand dipped between your thighs to grind his palm into your jean covered pussy.  You couldn’t help yourself and a groan fell from your lips as you pressed harder to his hand. “That’s it baby, don’t fight it.  I am going to make you feel so good.” He smirked.   Your breasts rose and fell with your heavy breathing and you whimpered one last time. “Dean, please.” Dean quickly spun you around once more so he could look down at you.  His hands cupped your cheeks as you stared into those soft green eyes.  You were gone then, lost to the feelings surging inside of you.  You had wanted Dean for so long; you had fought these feelings for as long as you had known the man.  You pressed your lips to his hard and he moaned.  He thrust his tongue into your mouth and you were putty in his hands.  His hands left your face to grip your thighs and lift you up in his strong arms.  Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms came to wrap around his shoulders as he carried you to the bed.   Dean dropped you unceremoniously onto the bed and you bounced with the force.  You watched as Dean made quick work of his flannel and tugged his tee shirt over his head.  You felt the fear tugging at you again as Dean stared down at you with an animalistic gaze that made you feel so much like the prey that you were to him.  The look was so uncharacteristically Dean that your fight or flight instinct kicked in almost instantly. You moved to scramble back over the bed but a large strong hand around your ankle quickly stopped your movement and drug you back toward the edge of the bed.   “Don’t make me have to get the cuffs back out, brat.” Dean chuckled as you began to struggle in his grip.   You were a mess, your mind was reeling and your body was aching.  You were fighting an internal battle, knowing how wrong this situation was but knowing how bad you had always wanted Dean. ‘Jesus why was he doing this to you?’ you thought to yourself.  One minute he was just like your Dean and then the next he was every bit the cold demon that those black peepers made him out to be. Dean could read the expression on your face.  He always had a knack for reading you.  He smirked down at you as his rough hands began to slide up your legs, caressing and kneading your muscles through your jeans until he was bent over you, his hands gripping your hips.  “I know how fucked up this situation is for you darlin’ but you don’t have to fight it.”  His fingers teased under the hem of your t-shirt as he spoke making your body tremble at his touch. “If it makes you feel any better it won’t really matter if you fight anyway.  This is only going to end one way, brat.”   “Dean,” you whimpered as he fingers moved higher sliding your shirt up with the movement. “Please just stop.  We can go back to the bunker, back to Sam and he,”  You were cut off as a growl filled Dean’s throat at the mention of his brother’s name.   Dean’s hand quickly shot out to wrap around your slender throat making you gasp.  His fingers dug into your flesh, this time cutting off your air.  You struggled to inhale short quick breaths as his hand tightened further.  “I don’t want you to ever mention Sammy’s name again.  He isn’t coming to the rescue this time Y/n.” Dean spoke through gritted teeth. “You are mine.  He can’t save you and he can’t have you.”  Dean lowered his face towards you until his lips were almost touching your own.  “Mine.” he growled.   Tears stung your eyes as your lungs burned for air.  Your cheeks flushed red as the black spots began to fill your vision.  Your arms flailed in an effort to beat at Dean’s chest but your strength was faltering as the blackness threatened to consume you.  An instant before your eyes fluttered closed Dean released his grip on your throat allowing you to suck in much need oxygen.  You coughed as you took in large gasps of air.  Dean took the opportunity while you were struggling to regain your breath to rip your tee shirt down the middle freeing your ample breasts to his hungry gaze.  Your heard the soft rumble of his growl filling his throat once more as he hands moved over your newly exposed flesh.  Rough fingers slid down between the valley of your breasts before he cupped each globe harshly and squeezed making you whimper and squirm. Dean didn’t linger long on your breasts before his hands slid down your ribcage, long fingers splayed as they fanned over your stomach down to the waist of your jeans.  You instinctively reached for his wrists as he began to pop open the button and tug your zipper down.  He was quick to swat your hands away and give you a warning glare before he tugged your pants and panties down your creamy thighs in one quick movement.   “Beautiful.” He whispered almost to himself as he took in your naked body, your breasts rising and falling with your heavy ragged breaths, the curve of your hips and the sweet treasure that nestled between your thighs.   Dean moved over your body. His lips crashing back to yours.  His tongue forcing its way back into your mouth.  His mouth ravaged yours until you were struggling to breathe once more.  Dean broke the kiss to sit back, he licked the taste of your from his lips as his hands moved to work the buckle of his belt, taking his time he opened the button and zipper on his jeans.   He watched with amusement as your breath caught in your throat at the site of his hard thick bulge still trapped under the taut denim.   “That’s right brat, this is all for you.” He grinned as he palmed his hard erection through his jeans. “This is what you to do me.”   Dean was off the bed then kicking off the rest of his clothes until he stood over you in all his naked glory. You couldn’t help but stare at his perfection.  Your eyes moved from his cocky grin down over his broad shoulders and sculpted arms to his wide chest, eyes traveling down to his chiseled abdomen, the sweet carved Adonis belt, until your gaze met the hard thick length of his arousal. Dean chuckled as he watched you intently.  He slowly began to crawl up the bed until he was hovering above your trembling body.   “Don’t fight it Y/n.  We both know how bad you want this.”  His voice was soft as he dipped his head to the curve of your neck, his lips leaving wet kisses on the tender already abused flesh, leaving new marks on the skin that would already be bruised by his hand as he bit and sucked.  His large hands teased over your flesh making you whimper and squirm beneath him.  Your body moved on its own as Dean’s fingers slipped between your soft thighs.  His thick digits drug between your smooth petals to tease against your tight wet opening.   “So wet for me baby.” He moaned against your skin as his mouth moved lower.  Teeth nipping at your collarbone before kissing down to your breasts.  Your back arched and you cried out softly as his finger pushed into your hot core.  He moaned as he felt your tight velvet walls clutching at his finger as he began a slow pace inside of you. Your hands fisted at the blankets of the bed as Dean’s mouth continued its downward journey taking time to lavish kisses and nips to each breast before licking a long wet line down your body until his face was hovering over your heated pussy.  You tried closing your thighs as his hungry eyes met yours but his rough hands gripped your flesh tight and he pried them apart easily.  His chest rumbled with a low growl as his mouth clamped down on your pussy making you yelp in surprise.  The thickness that was his tongue lapped slowly from your wet entrance to the taut bundle of nerves at your core.  “Fuck brat, you’re even sweeter than I imagined.”  Dean moaned.   “Dean,” you whimpered as his tongue made lazy circles around your clit before he sucked and nibbled on the small button.  ‘Please, “ you rasped, “stop…I…can’t…”  You words fell on deaf ears.  Your hips jerked involuntarily as he suckled at your clit. The heat spread over your body as he used he mouth on you with expert grace.  His tongue dipping down from your clit to push inside your pussy and then lap his way back upwards.  Whimpered moans flooded the room as he devoured you like a starved man.   You felt the tight coil build low in your body and your hips begin rocking more wantonly to Dean’s mouth.  Your breasts rose and fell with your panted breaths. “Dean…I…fuck.” You groaned as the fire began to spread out from between your thighs and your body began to shake signaling your impending release.  Dean’s lustful gaze peered up at you from between your trembling thighs.  His mouth still clamped against your cunt as he felt your orgasm begin.  You swore you could almost feel him smile against your pussy.  Dean held your gaze as your orgasm threatened to crash over you.  You gasped and your hips bucked in surprise as his moss green eyes suddenly turned to black orbs. The sudden jolt of your hips caused the dam to break within you and you cried out your orgasm.  Your hips bucking as you came hard against Dean’s lips and tongue.  Your hands clawed at the bed as your back arched and your head rolled back.  Dean’s hands tightened on your thighs, holding you still as he licked and sucked against your slick covered pussy, making you ride out your orgasm on his mouth until your body finally stilled under him.   Dean grinned, hips lips and chin glistening with your slick as he climbed up over your body until his hands were on either side of your head and his thick body was nestled between your thighs.  “So sweet brat, I think I could keep my face buried in your little pussy all night.” He lowered his lips towards yours. “Taste.” he growled softly as his lips pressed hard to yours. His tongue slipping into your mouth dominantly.  He kissed you hard as he made you taste yourself on his lips.  You kissed him back almost blindly, your mind was a haze of emotion as you came down from your orgasm.  It wasn’t until you felt Dean’s hand slip between your two bodies and line the head of his hard thick cock against your tight entrance did your eyes snap open wide.  Your soft hands moved to his chest, shoving at his hard body as you turned your head to break the kiss.   “Dean, stop.” You gasped as the tip of his cock nestled into your opening.  Dean’s hand moved from between your bodies to help prop himself up above you as he looked down into your eyes.  His full pink lips curled into a grin as his hips began to inch forward and you felt your slick petals begin to spread around his swollen cockhead. You whimpered as you pushed harder at his chest.  “Dean wait…I’ve never.”   Your words were lost as Dean drove his hips forward plunging his long thick cock into you in one quick brutal thrust.   “Dean!” You screamed as he took your virginity mercilessly.  Tears welled in your eyes as he stretched your pussy wide around his cock.  Even with your wetness and your previous orgasm your walls burned with the sudden invasion.   Dean growled above you. His back bowed and his head dipped down to the curve of your neck as your heated cunt gripped his cock like a vise. “Fuck, so tight baby.” he hissed between clenched teeth as he held himself still, feeling his cock already throbbing inside of your clutching walls.  Slowly Dean began to rock his hips building a rhythm until he was moving harder and faster between your thighs.  The tears spilled from your eyes at the first thrusts of his hips. You hissed in pain as he began to rock his hips harder and faster as he moaned above you. You shut your eyes tight as you winced. Dean was big, it felt like he was ripping you in two.  Dean kept up the hard steady pace until slowly the burning stretch of your walls began to subside.   Dean’s lips curled into a smirk as he looked down at you.  Watching your expression turning from a scrunched up expression of pain to something different. Your lips parted as your breathing grew heavier and your eyelids fluttered as the first moan filled your throat.   As your moans grew louder so did the grunts falling from Dean‘s lips as he drove into you harder.  One large hand moved to grip your hip tight as he began a relentless pace fucking you down into the mattress.   “So fucking good Y/n.  Fuck I love your pussy.” He moaned as his hips pistoned slamming every inch he had into your slick cunt. “No one but me is ever going to fuck this pussy.  Mine.”  Dean panted. “You’re mine.” Your hands clawed at his muscled back as your body began to writhe under him.  Whimpered moans and soft curses began to spill from your lips as every thrust of Dean’s cock into your dripping core brought you closer to the precipice of release.  You gave into the pleasure that was coursing through you unable to deny the heat that was spreading out from your core as Dean’s lips found yours once more. He drank in your moans as you clung to his body.  He knew you were close, your slick walls fluttered around his hardness drawing deep moans from his chest. His hand left your hip to slip between your bodies, his deft fingers finding your swollen clit and he began to rub in hard tight circles.   Dean peered down at you with heavy lidded eyes.  “Cum for me baby.  I wanna feel you cum on my cock.” His thrusts began to falter and he knew his own orgasm was near. “That’s it baby.  I can feel you getting tighter.  Let go for me Y/n. Cum baby.”   The tension tightening low in your belly suddenly snapped at Dean’s words and you screamed out your orgasm.  Your hips bucked uncontrollably as you rode out your release. You screamed his name as he continued to drive into you chasing his own release.  Dean’s head snapped back as he groaned. His orgasm quickly following your own as your pulsing cunt squeezed his cock tighter and your slick coated his throbbing shaft.   “Fuck Y/n!” Dean called out as he filled you to the brim with his sticky seed.  Dean collapsed down onto your quivering body, resting his head into the crook of your neck as you both breathed heavily.  You could feel his heart racing in his chest matching your own rapid beat.   Slowly Dean rolled over onto his back at your side draping one arm over his eyes and the other across his own chest.  You were unsure what to do. Part of you wanted to curl up at Dean’s side and snuggle against him but part of you wanted to run screaming and crying from the room.  You didn’t know what to do so you just laid there trying to process your emotions and the events that had just occurred.  You couldn’t help the tears that began to fill your eyes once more.  You tried to blink them away but they spilled down over your flushed cheeks. Your body began to shake with silent sobs and it brought Dean’s attention back to you.  He rolled to his side, propping himself on one elbow so he could look down at you.   “Shh, don’t cry brat.”  Dean reached out to you and gently cupped your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb.  “Hey, “ he said making you look up at him.  “I know I was rough with you but shit I didn’t know that was going to be your first time.”  He leaned over and kissed your lips softly. “First times are always a bit rocky and awkward but don’t worry you’ll get the hang of it in no time.”   “What?” You choked out not believing the words that just spewed out of Dean’s mouth.   Dean winked down at you before climbing out of the bed and throwing his clothes back on.  You slowly sat up, wincing at the ache between your thighs as you moved.  You watched Dean as he buckled his belt and slipped his tee shirt over his head.   “I gotta go meet Crowley. Want to come get a drink?” He looked at you with raised eyebrows as he slipped his boots back on. “No.” You spoke softly and shook your head still in disbelief that Dean was acting so nonchalant about what just happened.   “You sure brat?” He asked again as he stood up and reached for his jacket.   You felt the anger begin to surge through you as he used his nickname for you yet again.  “Stop calling me that.” you hissed at him.   His head snapped to the side to look at you, the surprise showing on his face.  “Excuse me?” “You don’t get to call me that anymore.  You are not Dean, not my Dean and only my Dean can call me that.” “Are we seriously back on this shit?” Dean grumbled and turned toward you.  He saw the glare in your eyes and met it with his own.  He marched over to where you sat on the edge of the bed and he quickly manhandled you until he had drug your small form up the bed.  You struggled but Dean was able to slap the handcuffs around one of your wrists and just as quick he had cuffed you to the headboard.   “Just in case you decide you want to try to leave.” He winked at you again before kissing you hard.  “Don’t wait up.” He chuckled as he headed out the motel room door.  You screamed in frustration as you tugged at the cuffs.  

[littlesupernaturalwords]

Run And Don’t Look Back Chapter Four

Summary: Running from her past she finally settles down in a new town. But as it turns out, helping the wrong person will throw her even deeper in the life than she had ever been before.

Characters: Jane, Sam, Dean

Word count: 3 712

Warnings: angst, pain, interrogation, panic

A/N: I won't be listing characters in future chapters, because I would honestly consider it a spoiler. If you have any questions, requests or suggestions feel free to message me. I apreciate any kind of feedback 😊

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Beeping. Beeping.

The constant beeping sound was beggining to drive her mad. Was it her alarm clock? Probably, yes, it made sence. Perhaps she could call in sick for the day and just spend the whole day reading and sleeping. Yeah, that would be nice. She bad never been able to do that before, there had always been something that needed to be taken care of first and she had been putting off her lazy day for years. But then again, she couldn't draw unwanted attention to herself. She internally sighed. That was how she had become friends with Rosie in the first place; she had come to work with a flu and her coworker with motherly instincts had been quick to drive her home and had even gone so far she'd cooked her soup and had made sure her blanket was warm enough. She found herself smiling. Rosie was like her older sister, always making sure she was okay before taking her out to have fun. Jane cursed herself for getting so close to her, making her a target.

"You got anything?" Dean asked, looking up from the magazine. Sam closed the door behind him and shook his head.

"I called every hunter we know, but none of them heard about any of her aliases," he answered.

Dean tilted his head to the side. "Maybe she just likes working alone."

"Yeah, maybe." Sam sat down next to his brother and looked at the girl on the bed. She was pale, freckles clear on her skin, her red hair the only colour in the room.

A target. She was supposed to text her when she got home. Had she, though? She could clearly remember the walk home, taking out her keys, her gun. Why was she taking out her gun? And then it all came flooding back. Crowley, demons, torture. She'd told him her name. He knew her name! How could had she been so stupid to give up information like this?

The beeping quickened. The brothers looked up at her, but weren't hopeful; it wasn't the first time it happened and she still hadn't woken up.

She tried to clear her head. She had to run, get as far away from Crowley as she could. But she had to deal with the situation she was in at the moment first. She was in a hospital; she would know the smell of one anywhere. There was an IV in both of her arms, they were probably giving her analgesics, given that she didn't feel any pain.

The door to the room opened and a nurse came in. Neither brother seemed startled by it. Jane wasn't completely awake yet, still floating in her own mind, unable to open her eyes, but she was starting to be more aware of her surroundings and her body. The nurse came to her and examined her results on the machines next to her bed. She scribed something in her documents and left the room without a word.

Dean chuckled.

"What, you got something?" Sam asked eagerly.

Dean looked up from the magazine. "Yeah, I mean, I just found out I have now-" he stopped to think "- five untreatable deseases," he laughed.

Jane had to internally clench her fists to hold herself from rolling her eyes. She could still hear his angry voice calling out for Crowley. How could he be so relaxed?

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dude, seriously? We've been here for a week and you're still reading that?"

Now that had her almost jumping awake. A week? No, that couldn't be right. But then she recalled her injuries and it all started making sence. Of course it would take time for her body to recover from the trauma, she had felt how weak she had been; she had been dying. Whether it had been out of blood loss, shock or fever she didn't know, not that it mattered. She tried to move, managing to curl her fingers just slightly. She had to get up.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened her eyes, blinking from all the brightness that surrounded her. She couldn't help the groan that escaped her lips when she tried to shield her eyes with a hand; the hospital room was too vivid, the whiteness hurting her eyes even through her fingers.

The Winchesters looked up, seeing the girl trying to sit up while keeping a hand in front of her face. Her whole body ached, but she pushed through the pain and forced her body to cooperate, clenching her teeth. Her head spun just as she spotted two large male figures getting closer to her. Panic rushed through her. She had to get away. Not thinking, she kicked her legs in hopes of getting away from them, but only shouted out in pain when she moved her right leg, painful stinging shooting from her knee to the rest of her body. The beeping of the machine only quickened.

"Whoa, whoa, easy," one of them said, but she couldn't see anything more than his siluette, the light blinding her.

"Dean," the other one said, motioning towards the windows that were now behind her. She shifted again, careful not to move her right leg this time, and sat with her back against the head board, still shielding from the light. She tried to focus her eyes, but everything seemed blurry, her head fuzzy.

The room darkened just as Dean drew back the curtain. Jane blinked a few times, letting her arm fall to her lap, close to the IV in her other arm; if they wanted to hurt her, she might as well use it as a weapon. There was a man standing next to her bed and her heart skipped a beat yet again. He was huge. His shoulders were broad, his whole body massive. She drew in a breath, her whole body tensing.

He put his arms in front of him. "Hey, hey, it's okay, you're safe," he said in a softer voice than she thought he would be capable of, "we're not gonna hurt you." His brown hair was long, falling nearly on his shoulders. He must have realised he was scaring her, because he backed up a little and sat down in a chair, still making his hands visible. She glaced at the other man standing on the opposite side. He was tall, his hair short and lighter, but he still looked very much frightening. He got her silent pleading, moving to the same side as the other man, so she could have them both in sight.

"Hey, calm down, okay?" the shorter one said, making her realise she was panting again. She forced in a deep breath, drifting between the two men. Their faces were familiar, more so than she was comfortable with, but she couldn't quite place them, still feeling light-headed.

"I'm Sam," the taller one said while putting a hand on his chest, then he gestured toward the other stranger, "and this is my brother Dean." He let her take it in, seeing she moved to the edge of her bed, as far away from them as she could. "We're hunters."

Sam and Dean. Hunters. They didn't need to say more as their last name came into her mind and she instantly visibly relaxed, shifting her body towards them. She tried to swallow, but found both her throat and mouth dry. Inspecting the room, her gaze landed on a cup of water on her night stand.

The taller one - Sam - noticed and immediately got the memo, slowly standing up and getting closer, carefully placing the cup in her shaky hands. She tried to grasp it, but it slipped in between her fingers and if Sam wasn't still holding it, it would have spilled in her lap. Her bottom lip trembled before she could stop it.

"Hey, it's okay, let me," he said softly. She noticed his eyes just then, the impossible mixture of colours giving her both comfort and making her feel safe at once. She found herself nodding, just as Sam leaned closer and placed the cup to her lips. Jane watched his face for a moment before she delightfully closed her eyes, tasting the cool fluid, almost melting at the sensation. When had been the last time she'd drunk anything? She didn't know. And didn't care in fact, the liquid running down her throat the only thing that mattered. She drank the whole cup, touching it with her fingertips, while Sam held its weight. A satisfied sigh left her lips and the gentle giant smiled before sitting in his chair again.

"Thank you," she said quietly, voice barely above whisper. Her throat was still sore.

Dean folded his arms on his chest. "Wanna thank us? Start with a name," he said, his voice rough. It was the same sound she'd recalled hearing calling Crowley's name, the light and joking manner she'd heard just minutes ago gone. Her chest tightened at his tone. "No Emilies or Sarahs, your real name."

Her gaze drifted between the brothers. So they'd found her bag. Unfortunate, but not unsolvable, she still had other identities she stole, not only from America. But then again, Crowley already knew her name, there was no point hiding it anymore and same went for her other secrets. The King of Hell would find out about those soon enough, she was sure.

She licked her lips and locked sight with Sam, the less threatening at the moment. "My na-" she managed to say before she had to clear her throat, her voice rough from not using it for so long. "My name is Jane Lees," she said finally, not hiding anything, letting the information as well as the accent sink in.

The brothers were suprised by both her accent and her young sounding voice. Sam's eyebrows shot up before he could control them, but Dean didn't move an inch, observing her closely. She shivered under his gaze, looking between them.

"Okay," Sam said again, "Jane," he tried her name, his accent making it sound foreign, "we know you're a hunter. And we know Crowley wanted something from you." He let the statement get to her before continuing. "We can protect you, if you let us." Sam looked genuinely worried as he set his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, waiting for her answer, his forehead wrinkled. He seemed patient, but Dean wasn't.

"You need to tell us what he wanted from you," he said, arms still crossed on his chest. His face was hard, demanding. Her eyebrows furrowed with worry. They had no reason to help her, didn't know her, didn't owe her anything. She contemplated about lying again, but stopped herself. They had saved her. She didn't know how they'd found her, didn't know how they'd known that it was Crowley who kidnapped her. But then she looked at Sam and saw his genuine worry. And that was somehow enough. Her instincts were silent, no, almost purring with delight. That had never happened before.

"I'm not," she said simply, looking straight into Dean's eyes. Sam cocked his head to the side while Dean's brows furrowed.

"Not what?" asked the younger brother.

She took in a deep breath. No more lies. "I'm not a hunter." Dean took a step towards her, his arms coming to rest at his sides, closer to his gun.

"What do you mean you're not-" he started, but the sound of doors opening made him be quiet. A nurse came in and gasped when she saw Jane awake and sitting up. She quickly rushed to her side.

"You shouldn't be sitting up, miss. Your wounds are healing well, but we can't have you pulling your stitches out, now can we?" she said with a smile. She beckoned her to lie down, but Jane only slid down a little, holding herself up by her elbows, even though the IV bent painfully in that angle. "Come on, all the way." She smiled and touched her hand while pushing her shoulder down.

Every single alarm in Jane's head went off at that very moment. She jumped at her cold touch, but the nurse only smiled more, her eyes nearly closed. There was a knot in the girl's stomach and it was tightening painfully. She lay down even though it went against her very being. She had to get away. She had to run now. But how the hell was she supposed to do that with her body being the state it was in? The nurse straightened her blanket.

"I will go get doctor Owens," the nurse said towards the brothers and they nodded, completely oblivious to the inner struggle Jane had. She squeezed Jane's hand and left the room, leaving them alone.

Jane finally sat up again, throwing her blanket aside and looking at the brothers with wide eyes. She didn't even notice the knee brace she was wearing.

She was panting.

"Hey, what's wrong?" asked Sam, utterly confused. He moved to her side, touching her shoulder with his fingers gently. How was the giant so gentle?

She moved herself to the side of the bed. "We have to leave, now," she said quickly. Dean straightened up and inhaled to say something, but she cut him short. "The nurse is bad news, okay? A demon or something, I don't know, but we have to go."

"How do you know that?" asked Sam and drew his hand back. Dean's hand dissappeared behind his back where she knew he kept his gun. But she wasn't the damn problem, for got's sake! Couldn't they feel it?

"I don't- I-" she searched for an answer which would be innocent enough, so that the older Winchester wouldn't shoot her after they'd just saved her. "I just do, okay?" she said finally, coming to the conclusion that there was no place for lies, not anymore. She needed them if she wanted to make it out of the hospital alive. Dean didn't look convinced, but she wasn't done. "If you want to shoot me, just do it," she said firmly, bearing the weight of his gaze, "because I'm not going to let Crowley get me alive again." She shifted her look to Sam, feeling her bottom lip tremble. "He made me break already," she said, tears stinging her eyes and threatening to spill, "and I can't go through that again. I can't-" Her voice hitched and she had to close her eyes shut as his voice echoed through her mind.

I'll see you soon, love.

Not if she had any say in it. The brothers shared a look, but she didn't see it, swinging her legs from the legs and crying out in pain as her right knee flexed in the brace. White spots filled her vision, but she pushed through it, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw was hurting. She didn't need her vision as she yanked both IVs from her arms, only groaning at the tugging sensation.

Someone touched her upper arms, holding her in place and she felt her whole body freeze. Her eyes snapped open, but she couldn't make out anything, white still filling her vision.

"Hey, calm down," Dean said firmly, "we're gonna get you out of here." He let go of her arms, moving his hands to her back and under her knees. She knew it was going to hurt, but that didn't prepare her for the pain that shot through her body. "Sorry, Sweetheart," he said in a low voice, his tone sincere. She squeezed her eyes, instinctively holding on Dean's neck as he lifted up and pressed her against his chest. A single sob left her and she wanted to burry her face in his neck, but pushed it aside. She forced her eyes open just as she saw Sam opening the door, gun in his hands.

He stuck his head out before motioning Dean to follow him out. The hallway was cold and suprisingly dark, even darker than the room they'd just left with its curtains blocking the light, but otherwise deserted. Dean looked around and frowned.

"Wasn't this one of the busiest floors?" Dean muttered to himself more than to her or his brother. Sam gestured him to stay close. Dean tried to keep his steps light, just as Sam had days ago, and followed Sam behind a corner towards the lift. And there they were, four dark figures standing in the middle of the hallway, shadows covering their faces.

Dean's whole body tensed at the sight and Jane had to bite her lip hard not to let out a whimper. Sam came to a stop in front of them and allowed himself a quick glace back. Dean nodded.

"Hold on," he whispered to her ear and his grip on her body tightened. He didn't give her any other warning as he spun around and ran. She held onto him for dear life, her nails biting into the skin on his neck. The vibrations of his every step shot through her body, making her aware of her every injury; every burned patch of skin that moved under Dean's touch, every cut, stitched or not, threatening to open again. And her knee. The damn knee. She hissed every time her legs swung too much, the knee flexing again and again. She didn't even notice he was running down the stairs until his pace changed into a light jog. She looked up and saw his features soften when he noticed. He smiled apologically, seeing her face flushed and covered in sweat.

"We're gonna have a real nice long chat, Sweetheart," he told her and she surprised them both when a chuckle left her lips. He looked down at her, startled.

"I knew you'd say that," she murmured into his shirt. It smelled like gun powder and leather with a hint of some alcohol she couldn't identify. Whiskey, maybe? But there was also a trace of beer, but it was so soft she would describe it more as an undertone. What the hell was she doing? She needed to focus.

Her arms were tired and her head rested on his shoulder. He slowed down, kicking the door into a deserted room open. She scanned the room for anything dangerous or strange, but found nothing. Dean gently placed her on a bed and her arms fell down onto her quickly rising and falling chest, tired.

"I've gotta go help Sam," he said and withdrew his gun from the back of his jeans. He laced her fingers around the handle. "Anything comes through that door that's not us? Shoot." She nodded, clicking the safety off and sitting up. Dean gave her a single nod, his face hardening once again, and grabbed something from the inside of his jacket. He quickly moved out of the room and she got just a glimpse of an angel blade before he shut the door behind him. She looked around. The room looked very much like the one she'd woken up in, only darker and dirtier, as though it wasn't used very often, and there were no windows.

No windows, no light source.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Her breath quickened and she screw her eyes shut. It felt too much like with Crowley; her, sitting on an uncomfortable surface in the dark, the room way too big, the only thing that could be heard in the room her own breathing. Except she could move, she reminded herself. Except this time she had a gun in her hands. And this time she wasn't alone.

Her breathing slowly came back to normal just as she opened her eyes seeing the door slowly opening. Her heart missed a beat. She pointed the gun at the door, keeping her index finger on the trigger.

"Jane?" came Dean's voice and she felt weight lifted off her chest. She clicked the safety back on just as the brothers came inside. Sam was bloody, but it wasn't his blood from the looks of it and neither of them seemed to be injured. She sighed in relief.

Jane handed Dean his gun back and he took it with a nod while tucking away his angel blade; it was as clean as when he'd left minutes ago. She turned to Sam.

"How did you-"

"Demon trap bullets," Sam explained before she even finished the question, "and an exorcism." She nodded in understanding just as Dean crouched to pick her up again. She wanted to argue, say she could walk on her own, but knew well enough she couldn't, so she reached up, swallowing her pride, and placed her arms around his neck again. He lifted her up without a word and let Sam lead the way.

There seemed to be infinite amound of hallways and turns and corners and dancing shadows and she eventually found herself dozing off, her body limp in Dean's arms.

Light woke her as they finally stepped out of the hospital with one of the old emergency exits and made their way across the parking lot. She let her gaze fall behind them, eyeing the hospital, before letting her head fall on Dean's shoulder.

"Sam," Dean's voice had her opening her eyes again, "keys." She looked up at her rescuer and noticed the amound of small freckles that danced on his skin, some similar to her own, and couldn't help but smile. She heard a car door opening and followed the sound with her gaze. And then she stopped dead.

It was the car. The same black shiny car she'd seen in her dream. Her eyes widened.

Dean must have felt her body tense as he studied her face. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

She nodded, too startled and confused to give a different answer and Dean carefully placed her on the back seat. She gave the car a look over; everything seemed to be as good as new, the leather seats clean and comfortable, the windows spotless. The brothers got in, occupying the front seat, Dean as the driver.

The scene looked familiar, too familiar, as Dean started the car and the engine roared in response. A shudder ran through her body.

It was them in her dream.