#slight demon!dean tones

[zepskies]

Hey could I request angsty and fluffy headcanons for Dean having a crush on reader but he thinks she has a crush on Sam but she actually has a crush on Dean back

Hey lovely!

So I kiiiind of already did this type of prompt with "Dean gives you an impossible choice" and its sequel, "Choosing Him."

But I'll do another imagine in this vein for you! ❤️

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst(ish), fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Dean reads you wrong.

When Dean falls for someone, it's "slow and steady wins the race."

But the spark. That spark is instant.

He feels it with you.

Your pretty smile. Your "get it done" attitude that mirrors his. The way you know all of his references, whether it's movies or TV or music — you grew up learning how to tell time from what was on TV, just like him.

It's the way you laugh with him, share quiet moments of contemplation with him, and even moments of grief with him. Even when it's his grief, you always come. Whether it's to sit beside him, or share a drink with him, or make him something you know he likes, or get him to take a drive with you.

But realistically, you have more in common with Sam.

Both of you are bookish (nerds). You two get into heated discussions about Dante's Inferno and proper Latin translations. (You always accuse Sam of his pronunciations being off, while Sam argues, "At least I remember the whole exorcism. You think the damn demon cares if my vowels are off?")

You and Sam bicker. You playfully tease him, bring smiles to his face just as often as you bring them to Dean's. You're comfortable with him, playfully jabbing his arm or his chest when you mess with him.

Sam takes it with a smile, or a slight roll of his eyes, but always with fondness.

Dean can't help the churning in his stomach. Every time he thinks he has a read on you. Every time he thinks it's safe to maybe, one day, after a hunt, after an episode of Dr. Sexy, after you get out of the shower, after he's made you a home-cooked meal, after you sit with him and talk about everything and nothing while he works on his car — he thinks he might have a shot if he asked you out.

But he always falters, because he just can't fucking tell. He thinks you and Sam have something.

And Dean...he likes you. A lot.

More than he's ever willingly expressed.

But despite his reputation with women, he's never, and will never, step on his brother's toes.

Until he can't help himself.

It's your birthday. Sam got you a series of books he recommended to you last month. (Again, fucking nerds.) Dean got the booze and made the food to celebrate.

But you're surprised, and even a little teary when he brings out the cake he bought at an honest-to-God bakery. He even stood in line, waited 30 minutes to have them write your name on it, with little balloons. The frosting letters are drawn in your favorite color.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart," Dean tells you. His tone is a little too soft. It's because he sees your unshed tears, and his heart clenches.

It's just a fucking cake.

Does it really matter that much to you?

But he still feels a well of warmth and pride in his chest. He turns to his brother with a smirk. "I win."

It's meant to be playful, but he kind of means it. Sam just eyes him knowingly.

"Sure," Sam laughs.

What the hell does that mean? Dean nearly frowns. But he's soon distracted — by you leaning in close to kiss him on the cheek.

He turns just in time (with slightly wider eyes) to see you blush.

That smile tells him something.

"Thanks, guys," you say to both of them. But your hand lingers on Dean's wrist, squeezing a bit.

At the end of the night, Sam turns in early. You stick around to help Dean clean up.

"Aw, stop. You're the birthday girl. I got this," Dean says, waving you off. You join him at the kitchen counter and lay a hand on his arm.

"Dean," you say softly. It earns his attention. You look a little nervous, your eyes falling from his, then meeting them again.

"What's the matter?" he asks. His brows furrow. He's thinking of your lips on his cheek. Unconsciously he glances down at your pretty mouth.

"Was wondering if you could help me with a birthday wish," you said.

A smile begins to tug at your lips, and Dean can't help but smile back. Intrigue, and a small tremor of something triggers up his spine.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" he asks.

You bite your lip. "Okay...I'm going to ask you this once. Yes or no. And if it's no...then we won't talk about it ever again and you'll have to wipe it out of your memory, because I don't want to make things weird or make you uncomfortable and I don't want to have to do something drastic, like leave the Bunker—"

Dean's smile falls as his brows raise in slight alarm. He also raises placating hands to stop your verbal flapping.

"Whoa, hey. What? What the hell kinda birthday question is this?"

You close your eyes and take a breath. "Okay."

Your eyes open, and as what happens far too often, Dean's captured by them.

"Close your eyes for me," you request.

"My eyes need to be closed to answer a damn question?"

"Damn it, Dean. Just do it, please!"

He lets out a slightly peeved breath, but he obliges you, shutting his lids. He really doesn't know what the hell is going on...until you lay a bracing hand on his chest and press a soft kiss to his lips.

For a moment, he freezes.

He inhales deeply through his nose as the surprise fades.

Relief floods in its wake.

A smile reaches his face.

But soon enough, before you can pull away, he grasps your upper arms to hold you in place. He dips his head down to kiss you in earnest. His lips find yours, gentle at first, and then gaining in passion.

He learns quickly the pattern of your lips, and the heady feeling of that knowing travels straight to his brain, stronger than the whiskey he drank earlier.

It's like you two were made to move together. To end up just like this.

You both are breathless by the time your eyes slide open and meet one another.

Dean's lips curve into a smirk. "How's that answer for ya?"

Your smile is beaming bright.

"Yeah, that works."

Chuckling, he pulls you in closer and tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing your blush-warmed cheek.

And he answers you again.

AN: Ugh, I'm sappy as hell. 😂 Hope you liked this! Let me know what you think. 😉

Read Sam’s version: “Sam reads you wrong.”

Dean Winchester Imagines

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@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

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[allmoshnobrain]

𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

dean winchester x hunter!reader | word count: 1,7k | requests are open! send yours here

“Sam died, sweetheart,” he whispered, and your heart clenched at his words. Why did he have to call you that right now? “And I made a deal to bring him back. I had to.” “This isn’t funny,” you said, your voice trembling. “Dean, you can’t be serious.” “I’m serious,” he replied, his tone firm. “I wouldn’t lie. Not about this.”

✦ on this fic: dean winchester x reader, fem!reader but this part is pretty neutral, angst, s3 spn plot

✦ a/n: this is my first time writing a reader insert for the supernatural universe. this is super angsty, and other parts to this au may come in the future so feel free to shoot me an ask if you have any suggestions! hope u enjoy the read 🖤

Word travels fast in a hunter’s world.

In a job where information is everything, sharing what you know wasn’t just helpful, but also expected. So, when the Devil’s Gate opened and demons started pouring out everywhere, it didn’t take long before you heard about it. It didn’t come as a surprise when you heard Sam and Dean Winchester had been there when it happened, right in the middle of it. You knew the boys; you knew they had a knack for getting mixed up in every kind of mess that popped up, ever.

What did surprise you, though, was Dean showing up on your doorstep less than a month later.

You knew something was off the second you saw him. First, because he was alone, and honestly, you couldn’t remember ever seeing him without Sam around. But mostly, it was the look in his eyes. As soon as you opened the door, he smiled at you, but his eyes didn’t follow — there was a storm brewing in his green irises, one even he didn’t seem to notice.

“Dean,” you said, frowning as he stood in your doorway. “How did you…”

“Bobby told me,” he cut you off, like it was no big deal, not even waiting for you to finish asking how the hell did he know where you lived. Of course, Bobby had. You sighed — would’ve been nice if Bobby gave you a heads-up, but whatever. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, but… what’s going on?” you asked, stepping aside to let him into your little cabin. It wasn’t much — pretty small, tucked away from the town, and didn’t look like anything special from the outside. Inside, though, was another story. Your eyes flicked up to the devil’s trap right above the door, and you felt a wave of relief when Dean walked right under it. Okay, not possessed. That’s a start.

“Can’t I just pay a visit to an old friend?” he asked, and you raised an eyebrow. Sure, you’d crossed paths with Dean more than a few times — occupational hazard of being a hunter — but something about this felt off. It wasn’t like him to just show up without a reason, especially with everything that had gone down in the past few weeks.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” you pressed, not letting him off the hook. His smile faltered, quickly replaced by that familiar annoyed look he got when he didn’t want to talk about whatever was actually on his mind.

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

You rolled your eyes. “Because you never just drop by for no reason. Where’s Sam?”

“Not here,” he muttered, and you couldn’t help but scoff. “Look, I’m fine. Everything's fine.  Bobby just figured you’d wanna know what went down with the Colt and yellow-eyes…”

“I’ve got a phone,” you cut in, crossing your arms. 

Dean sighed, his usual swagger faltering for a second as he cleared his throat, almost like he was nervous. “And… maybe he also thought I could use some time away from hunting, just for a bit, you know? With someone I… I liked being around.”

He couldn’t even look at you when he said it, a slight blush creeping up his neck. It wasn’t the Dean you were used to seeing, and that made your heart skip in a way you weren’t entirely prepared for.

You blinked in surprise. Dean, shy? Around you, of all people? That was rare. You’d seen him flirt before — hell, he was good at it and he knew it. This wasn’t the Dean you were used to, but then again, he wasn’t exactly acting like his usual self today.

“You’re not a shapeshifter, are you?” you asked, slowly. He huffed.

“No, I’m not.”

“Mind if I check?” You grabbed the knife you always kept strapped to your thigh. Dean just shrugged, holding his hand out. You took it, his skin warm under your fingers, and pressed the iron blade against it until it drew blood. No reaction, a small twitch in his arm muscles the only sign he’d felt anything. 

“See?” he said, his voice a little rough. “Not a shapeshifter, not a demon, just good ol’ me.”

Alright then. As weird as it was, it looked like Dean Winchester had really shown up at your place just to… hang out? You glanced up at him, wiping your knife off on your jeans before sliding it back into its sheath.

“Sorry about that,” you muttered. “Come on, let me patch you up.”

“So,” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow as you finished wrapping the bandage around his hand. “What’ve you been up to? Working any cases?”

“Why do you wanna know? Weren’t you supposed to be taking a break from hunting for a few days?” you shot back, and he chuckled. You glanced up at him. “You know I don’t hunt as much as you guys. I mostly just keep an eye on this area. But it’s been pretty quiet lately.”

“Yeah, well, you take care of yourself, alright? Lots of demons running around lately,” he said. “If you ever need backup, just call me.”

“Thanks,” you replied quietly. “I haven’t been up to much other than keeping an eye on things. Honestly, I was worried about you guys. Heard you were at the Devil’s Gate when everything went down.”

“We were trying to stop it,” Dean said, and you nodded.

“I figured as much. But…” You hesitated. “That’s not exactly what everyone’s saying.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning a bit as he flexed his hand, checking how well he could move it with your bandages. “Who’s everyone?”

“The other hunters,” you said. “They’re saying Sam… and you… you guys made the whole thing happen.”

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes and running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“And did you believe that bullshit?”

“I didn’t! Just… Please be careful out there, alright? Not all hunters are as friendly right now.” He looked at you for a moment, then let out a sigh and nodded. You hesitated. “Do you, uh, wanna hit up a bar or something? I mean, I’m not exactly living the most exciting life out here…”

“You got a TV and some beers?” he asked, catching you off guard. You blinked a few times before nodding. “Sweet. That’s all I need today. We could watch a movie or something, maybe order in.”

“I can cook,” you chimed in. “I’ve got a wood-burning oven outside... we could make homemade pizza.”

The way he looked at you, it was like you’d just revealed you had the keys to Heaven itself.

You finally figured out what was up much later in the night, while you and Dean were sprawled out in your queen bed.

At first, he had tried to be a gentleman and insisted on crashing on the couch, but you wouldn’t have it — the bed was more than big enough for both of you. No point in him getting a stiff neck just because he wanted to play nice. Sure, you were practical, but you also just wanted him to be comfortable. You could sense something was off with him, even if he kept saying he was fine.

So there you were, cozy and ready to sleep, lights out and moonlight streaming through the curtains, lying on your side and facing the wall as you listened to his deep breathing. You were almost drifting off yourself when he said it.

“I made a deal.”

You opened your eyes right away, twisting in bed to find his face just inches from yours. Your heart raced at the vulnerability in his gaze — the angst he’d tried to keep hidden was now clear as day. It made your heart sink and your breath hitch a little.

“What?” you asked, concern creeping into your voice. Dean closed his eyes for a second, letting out a small sigh.

“Sam died, sweetheart,” he whispered, and your heart clenched at his words. Why did he have to call you that right now? “And I made a deal to bring him back. I had to.”

“This isn’t funny,” you said, your voice trembling. “Dean, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m serious,” he replied, his tone firm. “I wouldn’t lie. Not about this.”

You didn’t answer, just buried your face in your hands, struggling to catch your breath as tears started to well up in your eyes. The reaction shocked you — why did you care about him so much? How could you be terrified of losing him when you were just… what? Occasional hunting partners? Friends?

But he was right there with you, wasn’t he?

Was this why he had come to you?

“I wanted to tell you myself,” he said softly, as if he could read your mind. “I… I wanted to see you. One last time, at least.”

One last time. His words bounced around in your head, and you lowered your hands to face him, confusion scrunching your brow. That didn’t make sense. Demons usually gave you ten years after a deal, so why…?

“Dean,” you said slowly. “How long… how long did they give you?”

“A year,” he whispered, so quietly you almost missed it. “They gave me a year.”

“No,” you said, covering your mouth with one hand as the sobs started to spill out. “Oh, no, Dean, no, no, no…”

He pulled you close, wrapping you tight against his chest as you cried, your arms instinctively clinging to him. Incoherent words tumbled out — trying to apologize for crying, for feeling like a hole had been carved out of your chest. It didn’t feel right — you weren’t the one who was supposed to be feeling this way.

Because you weren’t the one dying.

You cried yourself to sleep in his arms that night. As your sobs faded into tired breaths and your eyes finally closed, Dean felt a sharp ache in his chest while watching your swollen eyes and damp cheeks.

He couldn’t deal with the whirlwind of feelings churning inside him right now. He couldn’t face the regret, the fear, not even that nameless feeling he had for you — because he was too scared to name it, to even acknowledge it was real. All he knew was that he had lied; Bobby hadn’t sent him to you. Things weren’t fine, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

He had come to you of his own choice.

Because when his world was crumbling, he knew you were the only one who could help him pick up the pieces.

Even when everything felt hopeless.

Even when he felt completely lost.

[kaleldobrev]

Vampergeist (5) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Cursing (6x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension & Vulnerable Reader

Authors Note: Only 2 more parts after this one gang! I hope y'all have been having a great time with this series so far! | It's one of my favorite universes to write for | A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | As always, thoughts are in italics and the "POV's" switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 4

“Okay, I think I know what we’re dealing with,” Dean said, looking up from one of the case files the coroner had given you less then half an hour ago. He kept a strong grip on the files, his tone and facial expressions serious.

You gave him a slightly questionable look as you sipped your beer and squinted your eyes slightly. Before you had called Sam, you had done some digging and you were sure that it was a poltergeist case, as all signs of one were there at all of the crime scenes. The only couple of things you hadn’t quite nailed yet were who the poltergeist was, and why it seemed to be only targeting medical students. “Yeah, it’s a polter—”

“A Vampergeist,” Dean said at the exact same moment as you, essentially cutting you off.

Your mouth was half open, trying to process what he just said. After the case was over, you made a mental note to ask Sam if his brother said things like this often. You folded your hands, eyeing Dean, trying to keep a straight face. “What in the living fuck is a Vampergeist?”

“It’s a poltergeist that sucks the blood of its victims like a vampire,” Dean explained, his tone with slight humor in it. “Vampergeist,” he repeated, moving his hands in a gesture as if he was somehow imitating Vanna White. The smile on his face was a rather goofy one — similar to that of a toddler who told his mother a new word he had just discovered. But you couldn’t help but smile looking at him. With the short amount of time you’ve been with Dean, he had made you smile more than anyone had in such a long time.

“Vampergeist is definitely a new one,” you said, playing along with his new word. A word that you didn’t want to admit to him that you were actually pretty fond of. “Unfortunately, Vampergeists exist just as much as Bigfoot and Nessie do,” you teased.

“Vampergeists don’t exist,” he mumbled to himself, using a slightly mocking tone. You smirked, giving a quiet chuckle to yourself at his imitation of you.

Dean rubbed his eyes, feeling the eye strain starting to hit him from looking at the case files and the laptop. At this point, neither one of you had a clue who the poltergeist could be, and why it seemed to be specifically targeting medical students of all people. In his long hunting career, and in your numerous poltergeist cases you’ve worked, neither of you had ever seen or heard of one that drained the blood of its victims before; especially one that didn’t even leave marks for entry.

He looked at you, and you were biting your bottom lip; something that you tended to do, he noticed, whenever you were thinking or concentrating hard on something. He wished he was the one biting it. Fuck, I need to get laid, he thought.

You must of felt his stare, as all of a sudden you looked up from the case file and smiled at him. The way you smiled killed him. "Did you find anything?" You asked, placing the case file on the table.

"No," he answered automatically, rubbing his face again. "But what I can tell you is that I have a fuck ton of eye strain. Which means, it's time to take a break," he said, patting the table and getting up.

You weren't against a break, as the more breaks you took, the longer it took to work the case. And the longer it took to work the case, meant the longer amount of time you got to spend with Dean.

As he got up from the table, he went to his side of the bed and plopped onto it, grabbing the remote from the side table and turning on the television. "Watching tv isn't going to help your eye strain you know," you commented. "Might make it worse."

Dean scoffed. "Everything can be solved by watching some TV," he said. "Now come." He patted your side of the bed, and started flipping through the channels trying to find something the two of you could watch together.

As you lied down on the bed next to Dean, your heart started to pound quickly. You were inches away from him, and all you wanted to do was reach out and touch him. You wanted to grab his hand and hold it in yours, rest your head on his shoulder. But the more you thought about all the things you had wanted to do with him, the sadder you got. You were never going to be able to rest your head on his shoulder, or feel his lips on yours. There was no way he would ever look at you in a romantic way.

There was absolutely nothing to watch, which slightly surprised him, because even in shitty motels, there was at least one thing to watch. But the more he channel surfed, the deeper he sighed. “There’s nothing on, not even Scooby-Doo,” he said.

“Is Scooby-Doo your favorite?” You asked, looking at him, and he nodded in response.

“Yeah. Like I said before. Scooby-Doo was one of those things that was always on no matter where me, my dad and Sammy were. It was also one of the few things that I watched where I knew the bad guy was going to lose,” he explained. “Like —”

“Horror movies,” you added. “That’s why I like horror movies so much. You know the bad guy is always going to lose,” you explained. Of course you fucking like horror movies, he thought. Was there something the two of you didn’t have in common?

“Yeah, exactly,” he agreed. “That’s what I tell Sammy all the time. He says our life is pretty much a horror movie, that’s why he doesn’t like them but, at least I know in movies the bad guy loses. In our world well…”

“It’s not a guarantee,” you said, finishing his sentence for him yet again, your tone sounding almost slightly saddened. “Speaking of which,” you began, as you sat on the edge of the bed, “we need to find out who this poltergeist is before anymore students end up dead,” you said, as you walked back over to the table.

“Yahtzee!” Dean randomly called out, throwing his hands up in the air before spinning his laptop to face you. “Read the title of this article I finally found,” he said, with the biggest, impressed smile on his lips.

“David Falko’s medical instruments donated to medical museum at The University of Tulsa,” you read aloud. “What about it?” You asked.

“Keep reading, and look at the date on the bottom of the article,” Dean pointed out.

“July first, twenty-sixteen,” you said.

“And when was the first murder?” Dean asked.

“July third, twenty-sixteen,” both you and Dean at the same time.

“Son of a Bitch,” you mumbled.

“But wait, there’s more,” Dean began, holding up his pointer finger before turning his laptop back to him. “I did a little bit more digging on our pal Falko here, and fifty years ago, he murdered three of his medical students using the exact same instruments that were donated.”

“How do you explain the blood draining with no marks?” You asked.

Dean grinned from ear to ear. “I am so glad you asked.” He grabbed one of the case files that the corner had given you, and opened it, revealing the photographs from the autopsy. “Our coroner friend did miss something. See this right here?” Dean pointed to one of the autopsy photos, which was a close up picture of one of the medical students hairlines by their neck.

“That mark right there?” You asked, pointing to a small circular mark that looked extremely similar to a mole.

“Yep. That’s not a mole like the coroner thought. It’s actually a puncture wound. What Falko did fifty years ago, was he punctured the base of the students skulls close enough to their hair line so it looked like a mole and essentially, went unnoticed,” Dean explained. “Until now anyway,” he winked.

“And because he was their supervisor, that’s why there was no forced entry,” you stated, and Dean nodded. “What about the lack of struggle?”

“All three students offered to make Falko coffee, and when the students weren’t looking, Falko would drug them. So, when the students drank the drugged coffee, they would fall asleep, and that’s when he could do his handiwork,” he explained, and his explanation made your blood run cold. Not only did Falko kill three people, he did it in a cowardly way.

“It would make sense for Falko to be our guy. Do you think, and it’s a stretch here I know that, the reason that there are no drugs in any of the students systems is because he can just knock them out from being a ghost?” You knew how crazy your theory was, but in this line of work, sometimes the craziest of theories were the most logical of ones.

Dean shrugged. “Could be possible. But at the same time, even in death, serial killers don’t really change their M.O. And I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

You chuckled at his comment. “I’m sure it’s not the craziest thing you’ve ever said,” you slightly smirked.

Dean smirked back. “Actually —” but before he could indulge in your comment, you cut him off.

“Please tell me the medical instruments are still at the college, because I’m assuming we can’t just salt and burn this guy,” you said. Both Dean and you have been on plenty of ghost cases, and rarely was it that easy to just salt and burn the remains — there was almost always something else involved.

“You would be correct because our buddy here was cremated,” Dean replied.

“Of course he is,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. “Alright. Well. Since we have a few hours to kill before dark, I say we take a little nap and fuel up before we steal some historical medical equipment from a prominent university.”

Dean smiled, chuckling to himself. “Couldn’t have said it any better myself.”

The rest of the morning and afternoon with Dean couldn’t have gone any quicker. It felt like the time flew by, and it was time that you desperately wanted to re-live again; which is funny because it was relatively uneventful. The two of you did what you had suggested: take a nap, refuel, and watched some tv. But during those hours with him, you felt safe and comfortable. You felt truly safe with Dean despite barely knowing him a couple of days. He was still relatively a stranger to you and yet, you’d trust him with your life if it ever came down to it.

When it came to your nap, you were the first one to wake, which you were strangely grateful for as you were able to admire the way Dean slept. He looked so peaceful, like he didn’t have a care in the world. You wanted desperately to reach out and touch him, to feel his stubble underneath your fingertips. But you had to resist the urge even though it was getting stronger with each passing second.

When nighttime had finally come, it was time to head to the medical museum at the university, and hopefully put a stop to this once and for all. But based on the information that the two of you had gathered though, you figured that Falko was done with his little murder spree, but you needed to make sure that he would never be able to harm anyone ever again. Three now, and six in total was far too many innocent lives lost.

As you and Dean drove to the university, there remained that comfortable silence that seemed to often appear between the two of you; the only sound to be heard in the truck was The Clash, but the volume was scarily low for you, as you tended to blast your music — not caring who heard. But in this moment, you felt it wasn’t necessary.

Despite the silence that you were enjoying between the two of you, you were the one that broke it. “Before, you asked me how I got into hunting so young,” you began, still keeping your eyes on the road.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Dean reassured you. “It’s not a big deal if I don’t know.”

“I want to. I trust you,” and you meant it when you said that, as trust was something you rarely gave to people since you became a hunter. You removed your hand from the wheel briefly, and touched the dog tags that were hanging in your review mirror. “See these?” You asked, and removed your hand, putting it back on the wheel again. Dean nodded. “He’s the reason I got into hunting.”

Dean looked at you, inches away from touching the precious dog tags you had refused to burn after all this time. “May I?” He asked, and you nodded. He removed the dog tags gently from the rear view and you felt your heart pounding quickly. You never let anyone touch them, and yet, you were letting Dean. “Joseph A. Baxter,” Dean read.

“Joey,” you corrected, partially smiling as you said his name. “He was my best friend and my neighbor. We were…inseparable, attached to the hip. Our parents always wondered when the two of us would start dating but, we…” you sighed deeply. “Never got the chance to.” You hadn’t talked about Joey in such a long time, and it felt almost therapeutic in a way to talk about him, but at the same time, he was someone you rarely talked about because sometimes it was too painful for you to bring up the memories of him, despite the amount of fondness and love you had for him.

You felt tears coming on, and you quickly did your best to bat them away with your eyelashes, but some still managed to escape to your cheeks. “He enlisted, and he left. Said he’d be back in no time,” you took a deep breath again. This was harder than you expected it to be. You wanted to continue, to tell Dean about him, as you felt safe enough to tell him, something you rarely felt with people since Joey died. As you were almost about to give up, you felt Dean place his hand on your thigh. Not in a romantic way, but in a comforting way. But the gesture didn’t last long, as he quickly pulled it away. But that small gesture gave you enough strength to continue.

“When he came back he was…he was dead. We got the news when an army vehicle pulled up in front of his parents house with one of those folded flags with his dog tags on top,” you paused again, but Dean remained silent. “His funeral was a week later. I was just so…angry at him. He promised…he promised he’d come back.” You didn’t fight back any of the tears now, as they were running down your cheeks. You knew you were in no condition to drive now, so you pulled over to the side of the road.

As soon as you did, you couldn’t control yourself anymore. Your body was on autopilot. You turned to Dean and wrapped your arms around him, and without hesitation it seemed, he wrapped his arms around you. He gently rubbed your back the best he could at the angle you were at, and he started humming, as if he was trying to help you calm down. “It’s okay,” he whispered on repeat to you.

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 6

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[whorefordean]

not god // d.w

demon!dean x hunter!reader

wc: 1121

warnings: demon!dean (kinda mean but also i couldn’t bring myself to make him really mean), porn with no plot, p in v, slight degradation, fingering, unprotected sex (not a great idea), cringe writing probably (so sorry abt that)

a/n: the main reason i wrote this is bc i had a dialogue line (in bold) stuck in my head and i needed to write it. also it’s demon!dean bc i could only think of him when i thought of this line so yea :) also this is my first time writing smut so pls don’t be mean to me i’ll probably cry :))

MDNI

—————————————

you’re not exactly sure how you ended up like this, writhing under dean, waiting for him to make his move. his persuasiveness and the flash of black eyes when he asked you to come back to his room with him definitely played a part in it, you’re sure. you were about to decline his offer when he sent you a quick wink and a smirk. it was over for you.

your back is pressed firmly into dean’s bed. he had already pulled your shirt off before you had even stepped foot into his room, leaving it crumpled in the hallway of the motel he’d been staying at. he’s placing rough kisses against your neck and down your chest as he works to shimmy you out of your shorts. he quickly pulls them down your thighs and tosses them off to the side. dean moves his kisses further down your body. he stops at your panties and breathes in your sweet scent. as he slowly pulls your legs apart, he smirks at the wet spot already forming on your underwear.

he hooks his finger against the cotton material and pulls in to the side. he runs his thumb through your slick folds, and he watches your eyes flutter as you lean your head against his pillow.

“dean, please,” you begged breathlessly.

“we haven’t even started, and you’re already falling apart,” dean spoke in a mocking tone. you wanted to be angry at his taunting, but his thumb was pressed to your clit, halting any remarks you were about to make.

dean quickly inserted two fingers into you, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly. you had whispered out a quick oh fuck before pulling your bottom lip under your teeth.

dean continued to curl his fingers into you, watching you spiral. you held your breath as your thighs shook, riding out your high for as long as you could.

you whimpered, mind hazy as dean pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you with an empty feeling. you watched with your mouth slightly agape as dean took his fingers into his mouth. he swirled his tongue around his wet digits, soaking in the way you taste.

“fuck me,” you whispered to yourself as you watched dean. you didn’t think he heard you since he was pulling his shirt over his head. that was until he looked at you with hungry eyes.

“i’m getting there. such a slut, you just can’t wait?,” he teased ruthlessly. you felt your cheeks redden at his response, but it turned you on anyways. you watched as he pulled off his belt, pants, then boxers. he smirked when he caught you staring at his length.

the two of you were silent as dean moved you onto your stomach. you could feel his eyes burning a hole into your back. his eyes scanned over the dip on your back down to the swell of your plump ass. he inhaled sharply before giving it a rough smack.

you had gasped. it was unexpected. but not unwelcome. dean takes his dick in his hand. he rubs his tip through your folds, spreading your slick all over.

your breath hitches in your throat as dean’s heavy cock enters your wet cunt. he gives you no time to adjust as he starts thrusting his hips into you from behind, slowly at first.

your gasps are quick to fill the room. his grip on your waist is sure to leave marks, but you can’t bring yourself to care. you’d gladly cover bruises if it meant he’d keep fucking you just like this.

“fuck, sweetheart,” dean breathed out. his head was thrown back, savoring the way you felt around him.the drag of his cock through your tight cunt had you reeling. you were a moaning mess underneath him.

your left hand is wrapped tightly around his forearm directly beside your head, holding up his weight. your cheek is buried into the soft sheets on dean’s bed. you can smell him all around you, pushing you further into euphoria.

your heart is beating so hard, you fear you might faint from the pleasure he’s giving you. you clench around him after a particularly hard thrust. your small whimpers are echoing through the room.

“you sound so pretty, sweetheart,” dean’s deep voice sends a new wave of wetness dripping down your thighs onto the sheets. he reaches around your body to toy with your clit.

“aw, look at you. so wet for me,” dean continues mocking you as he continued fucking you. he lifts your hips, allowing him further access to your soaking core.

“oh god,” you cried out as he hit your sweet spot. without hesitation, dean’s hand is around your throat pulling you up so your back is against his chest.

“not god. dean,” he hissed into your ear. you moan out upon hearing the anger in his voice. he continues fucking into you roughly. his hand on your throat moves to rub right circles on your clit. your hand wraps around his arm again to steady yourself.

your hips jerk back into dean. your back arches slightly, pushing you further into him. you have tears brimming your eyes, the pleasure of a second orgasm too much.

“dean,” you warned. he shushes you softly before answering.

“i know, sweetheart. let go for me,” he whispers sweetly in your ear, thrusting a few more times before releasing into you. he watches as you shake under him for the second time.

dean pulls out of you and slowly lays you back onto the bed. he’s quick to clean himself up, leaving you in the aftershock of not one but two orgasms.

“you know for someone who claims to hate demons, you sure were easy to get in bed.”

dean’s words cause your heart to drop. you stare at him silently as he continues.

“oh, come on, y/n. did you really think this meant anything? you’re not that dumb,” dean speaks so condescendingly it makes you cringe. not because it’s true, but because he’s so wrong about this.

“you’re not the only one who enjoys a quick fuck, dean. we both wanted to get laid. that’s it,” you scoff, pulling yourself off the bed to slip your own clothes back on.

it’s dean’s turn to stare at you. you wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. you move to exit his room but stop before turning the doorknob.

“oh, and next time, because there’s always a next time, don’t be so nice. you know i like it rough,” you wink at him. dean sends you a quick smirk before pressing a hard kiss to your lips.

[castiwls]

anti-hero - d.w

Paring; Dean x gn!reader

Synopsis; Dean's nightmares have become a nightly occurrence

Warnings; none

Notes; i think this might be one of my all time favorite songs ever! Also praying we get rep tv announcement tonight!! (also requests are open )

Masterlist

"i wake up screaming from dreaming one day i'll watch as you're leaving ‘cause you got tired of my scheming

Nightmares were a common occurrence for Dean Winchester. Every time he closed his eyes it was as if a collection of his worst moments replayed in his head for his own viewing pleasure. 

Dean had almost completely forgotten what it was like to dream, his nightmares seemed to have chased them away. Even the alcohol no longer kept his personal demons at bay. 

Most nights he found himself waking in cold sweats, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. Today was no exception. Dean let out a quiet gasp as his eyes shot open his hands subconsciously reaching for the weapon under his pillow. Just as he closed his hand around the knife he felt something touch his chest

“Dean.” You blinked slowly at him from your spot in the bed. You wiped at your eyes before using your arm to prop up your head. “You ok?” Your face twisted in slight concern as he lay quietly beside you. “Dean.” You said placing a hand on his arm. “Talk to me. Please.”

Dean slowly turned his head towards you. He didn’t say anything as he gently took your hand in his and squeezed it. “I’m okay.” He whispered. You frowned and let out a quiet sigh. “Alright.” You lay back down. You knew he wasn't going to talk. It was rare Dean ever did tell you about his ‘dreams’.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” You seethed as you held a cloth over the wound on Dean's leg. He simply scoffed before looking away. “Do you have any idea how stupid that plan was? You ran into a nest of vamps alone! Why didn’t you wait for Sam.” You reached over for a wipe and began to clean the cut as well as you could.

The wound ran down the majority of his leg and seemed deep enough for stitches much to your annoyance. “Are you even gonna say anything?” You stooped momentarily looking up at him from your spot on the floor. “Dean?” Your tone softened as you took notice of his far-off look.

Ever since the other night he’d been acting weird. Dean had taken to quietly staring at walls and drinking himself into a coma at night. You’d also noticed his behaviour change. He was more reckless

Satisfied that the cut was clean and no longer bleeding you took a spot on the bed next to him. “Whats wrong?” 

Dean kept his gaze on the wall infront of him. He took a shaky breath before moving to grab your hand. He squeezed it for a moment before looking down. “You deserve more then this. Then me.” He ran his free hand through his hair before finally looking up to catch your gaze. “I mean whens the last time you had a whole nights sleep, huh?” 

You shook your head. “Dean. I don’t care about your nightmares ok. I care when you close up on me like this and when you go and be reckless.” His thumb began to gently rub your hand as you spoke. “I’m frustrated 'cause I don't like seeing you destroy yourself. Talk to me. Talk to Sam. Hell, I don't care who you talk to just talk to someone please."

He nodded. “You don’t have to deal with these nightmares alone.” You finished.

You sent him a soft smile before wrapping your arms around him. You knew he wouldn’t open up immediately, but as long as he agreed to try, that was all you cared about.

“I’m not going anywhere ok.” Dean tightened his hold on you before pressing a kiss to your head. He wasn’t ready to talk yet but knowing you would stay was enough.

[angels-silhouette]

Ten Years Gone {d.w.}

1. Strangers in a Bar

Hi everyone!! This is my first Dean Winchester fic! Please let me know what you think of it, happy reading!

Summary: Dean hasn't been out of Purgatory for long and finds himself in a small town on the coast of Maine. He runs into a mysterious woman and she makes him question his retirement? Will Dean actually step away from the job? And what is this woman hiding from him? Warnings: slight aggression. +18 MDNI (even though there’s nothing R rated in this)

It’s late on a Tuesday night, the jukebox is humming in the corner of the bar playing slow country music. The air smells of liquor that’s dried on most surfaces of this place, a smell that’ll cling to your clothes until you wash them. It was the kind of late where only the restless or wrecked hung around, and tonight, Dean Winchester felt like both.

He sat at a table nursing a whiskey, tracing the edge of the glass with his middle finger. The bar was mostly empty, but Dean always made it a point to observe even when it’s not needed; the bartender wiping down the counter, two guys at a table loudly arguing about whether the Bruins are going to the playoffs or not, and a woman a few seats away from Dean, scribbling away in a notebook. He can’t tell if she comes here often or if she’s in the same boat he’s in, restless. Making sure to keep a watchful eye on her, especially since she’s the only woman in the building.

Dean shifted in his seat, trying not to think about the fact that he’s on the road by himself, again. It wasn’t the first time his brother needed a break from this life, and it wouldn’t be the last. They’ve been hunting nonstop for eight years, and after everything Sam has been through with the demons and Lucifer, the Leviathan’s and not knowing if Dean was dead or not for a year—he was bound to crack. The two of them fought over the fact that Sam didn’t hunt for a year, that Kevin was abducted and nothing was done about it. Sam was adamant about stepping away for a while, so he’s with his girl, while Dean is on the lookout for The Prophet. 

For some reason this time feels different. Dean’s gotten older, he’s not young and stupid anymore, and he sure as hell has been through the wringer more than he’d like to be. He has a hard time lying to himself that he’s fine on his own. He needs Sam. The feeling of crippling anxiety that won’t cease is new, and it’s a feeling that’s not easily quieted by liquor. His hand shakes while he downs the remainder of his whiskey. The job is his life but is his life worth the job? It’s a hard decision to make, almost impossible.

He was so lost in his thoughts he almost didn’t notice that the woman had gotten up and started walking towards the bar. She distanced herself as far away from the other two men as she could then ordered, “A margarita with a salt rim and a double whiskey, please.” It didn’t take long for them to notice that she’d gone up there. Dean didn’t like the looks of them, they had a mischievous gleam in their eyes when looking at her. One of the Bruins fans stood up and advanced towards the bar.

“Hey there, pretty lady,” the man slurred, propping himself up against the counter. “What do ya say I buy your drinks for ya, sweetheart?”

Dean sighed, his grip tightening around his glass. He knows how these movies end, and they don’t end well. 

The woman didn’t so much as flinch, without turning to look at him, she said, “I can take care of it myself, thanks.”

Her voice was cold and sharp, the kind of tone that could cut through steel, but the drunkard didn’t take the hint. He leaned in closer. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, see his eyes narrow in determination, and sense his bad intentions. 

“Aw, come on honey. Let me treat ya, then maybe we can head back to my place, if you know what I’m sayin’?”

“I said no. Walk. Away.” Her gaze finally snapping to him, one so chilling that it could turn a man to stone if she tried hard enough. 

Dean was not expecting her to be as harsh and as direct with the guy, he admired that. He knew that a guy like this wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he pushed out of his chair loudly and started to make his way towards them.

As she was turning to leave the counter, the guy grabs her by her bicep and pulls her into him, “You’re a good for nothing bitch, is what you are–”

Dean walks faster, boots thudding against the worn out floorboards. “Hey!” he barked. His voice low and dangerous as he got right in the drunk’s face. “When a lady says no, you listen. Now, let her go before this gets ugly.”

The man sneered then released her, muttering curses under his breath as he stumbled back to his friend. Dean turns to the bartender, his expression sharp. “And you–what kind of place are you running where this shit flies? Do better.”

He turns around to meet the woman, “You okay?”

She nods, her hardened features softening just a fraction at his kindness. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“It’s not a problem, Miss..?”

“Novena.” She smiles up at Dean and reaches her hand out to shake his. 

“I’m Dean.” He gave her a warm smile back and took her hand in his. Her handshake was firm, he’s even more impressed.

“I was actually getting you a drink, believe it or not.” Her voice was rid of any trace of bitterness that had been there before, “I saw you sitting by yourself and you looked upset. Thought I’d bring you another round.”

“Thank you, I definitely need it.” Dean takes the glass from her, his fingers brushing against hers. Novena tenses up and her gaze immediately meets his, but within a second her state of shock is gone. Dean notices but doesn’t think too much of it. He doesn’t mean to be cocky, but a lot of girls in the past have frozen up around him before. Usually from being a flirt but he’s made no effort tonight—maybe he still has the juice after all.

Novena gives him another smile, then makes her way back towards her seat. This was the first act of kindness anyone has shown him since he got back from purgatory, and it was refreshing. A total stranger noticed that he wasn’t doing alright. He had been standing in the same spot, staring into space long enough for the bartender to give him the look of, “dude, you good?” He wasn’t good, but maybe he could distract himself from his anxiety for a little while, she was mysterious and that intrigued Dean. 

Making his way over to her slowly, he notices that she had been making a sketch of someone. “Mind if I sit with you?” She closes her book when she hears his voice, as if not to be caught with her doodle. “I know it’s late and I, I don’t wanna seem like that scumbag over there—“

“Sit. I can tell a tortured soul when I see one,” she gestures with her hand for him to take the chair opposite from her. Novena emphasizes, “Please.”

Also not what he was expecting, but her voice was calm. Demanding but gentle. He does as he’s told.

“Yes ma’am.” They stare at each other, scanning each other's features in a way that is more intimate than it should be. Dean finally speaks up, “So, if you’re a tortured soul like me, what’re you doing out so late on a Tuesday?”

Novena sighs and takes a sip of her drink, “There’s a lot going on but to keep it sweet and simple, my dad recently passed, my boyfriend, well…ex now, destroyed my car when I ended things,” with sad eyes, she looks down at her fingers, fiddling with one of the rings she has on. She clears her throat before asking, “What about you, Mr-New-In-Town? What brings you into The Salty Dog?”

Dean lets out a small chuckle at her enthusiasm when saying the name of the bar, but says seriously, “I’m sorry to hear about your dad, I am. It’s not easy losing a parent,” He takes a swig of his whiskey, thinking of Bobby especially. “I uh, lost my father figure not too long ago as well.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Novena’s brows furrow and she places her hand over Dean’s so naturally, gently rubbing her thumb over the top of his knuckles. 

He’s taken aback by this, he almost jumps at her touch. His eyes dart to hers and he’s met with empathy and compassion; there’s a lump in his throat that’s unbelievably painful with the grief that’s been hidden away. Not one soul has been able to break through Dean’s wall as easily as the woman before him. His eyes are jumping from their hands to the table, scoping out the rest of the bar to see if anyone is paying attention, which no one was, then back up to Novena. Tears were threatening to escape the corners of his eyes and once he saw that her mascara had run down her face, was when Dean let go. She removed her hand from his, leaned over the small table, cupped his face and wiped away the dampness on his skin. 

It almost felt like Novena was taking away his pain with her touch, and it looked like it too. The eye contact hadn’t broke since he looked up at her. Dean was a mess and he couldn’t decipher if what he was seeing was a figment of his imagination or not—but it seemed like his struggle was held within her eyes? There was this humming noise that was coming from somewhere, the jukebox or the overhead lights maybe, that was soothing. Ultimately easing Dean to breathe slower and to quiet his racing thoughts. 

“I, I don’t know what that was.” Dean whispers, “I’m sorry, that’s embarrassing. This never happens to me…” he gestures at himself.

Novena pulled away from him concerningly, “Showing human emotion never happens to you?” 

“Wow—that’s not what I was expecting you to say. But, yeah. I usually don’t allow myself to show people how I’m feeling. To be frank, I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Long day I suppose.”

She didn’t know how to respond to him. He’s different from other men she’s met, that’s a given. Dean almost immediately crumbled under her touch. It felt like he was begging to let someone in, wanting to be understood. If they hadn’t mentioned that they’ve both lost someone dear to them, then Dean probably wouldn’t have been easy to get a reading from. Novena liked that he related so much to her, that Dean felt so deeply that his emotions had transferred through their touch.

He was trying to brush off what had just happened. Novena could see it in his eyes, that he was questioning the intense moment they shared. Dean covered his face with both of his hands and sighed. This was the perfect moment to change subjects.

“I better get going, it’s getting late–I have to be up early for work. But I’ll see you around?”

—

A/N: Any and all feedback is appreciated! Feel free to send me asks or dm’s :)) I'm just making things up as I go, so be patient with me lol. This will be multiple parts as well as blurbs. I have a busy schedule but I’m going to try my best to write these chapters cuz I’m really obsessed with the idea I have!

tags! @ambiguous-avery

[girls-alias]

Tattoo - Dean Winchester

Title: Tattoo - Dean Winchester Words: 2,305 Relations: Dean Winchester X reader. TW: Strong language, slight nudity, sexual hinting.

[Why does the right gif look like it's reacting to the first 😂]

I sighed slamming the anti-possession tattoo design on the artist's table. "This is what I want," I explained simply. The artist looked it over once, a quick glance before scoffing and shaking his head. I sucked my teeth, annoyed instantly by his reaction.

"I'm not doing that, it's demon shit," He slid the design off the table, it falling slowly onto the floor. I glared at him knowing for a fact I would not be the one to pick that up.

"It's actually the opposite it's to protect me from demon shit. So, either pick up the design and get started or pick up the design and wish me a great day," I instructed, my tone forceful as I rested my hands on the table between us. He gave me his full attention. "Either way, you're picking it up," I added. He scoffed looking at me like I was stupid.

"Bitch, if you-" He didn't have time to finish his sentence as I slammed his head into the table. He jumped backwards, holding his busted nose. Looking at me terrified. I was angry beyond reproach.

"Call me a bitch again and I'll pull your teeth out so the next time you say it, it's sounds like your saying bench," I threatened. "Get up. Walk around this table. Pick it up." I said simply, emphasising my anger as I maintained eye contact. He hesitated to get up, cowering as he got closer to me. I stared him down even though he was taller than me, he bent down, using one knee to get low as he grabbed the design. He went to stand but I grabbed the shoulder of his shirt, stopping him from standing but looking up at me scared. I smirked. "Wasn't so hard, was it?" I asked menacingly with a smirk. He shook his head slowly like he was afraid to upset me. I smirked wider. "Now wish me a great day," I instructed, looking at him expectantly.

"I hope you have a really great day, sorry I couldn't help," He quickly spoke. I smiled politely, innocently.

"Thanks, you too," I added cheerfully before grabbing my design and walking out.

I had gone to 5 different tattoo studios, all getting denied and I was growing impatient and reckless. My anger rose before a plan formed in my mind. I smirked knowing it was genius.

Dean's POV:

Y/N had been gone all day. I know she was getting her tattoo but it shouldn't be this long. She's been gone since I woke up till now, I rechecked my watch growing anxious. I should have gone with her. I know she didn't want me to because 'she's an independent woman who doesn't need a man to hold her hand' or at least that's what she tells me every time I suggest protection on a hunt or company for certain things. She is the most stubborn woman I know, and I've met plenty of stubborn women. She only decided to stay at the bunker with us for a few weeks because she wanted a break from motels.

"Will you stop tapping your foot?" Sam asked annoyed as he looked up from his book.

"Where is she? She should have been back hours ago," I rambled, anxiously checking my watch again. 9PM. Where is she? I wonder if she was snatched? Is she okay?

"Dean, will you calm down? She's probably just gotten distracted." He tried but I scoffed.

"What if she's been abducted and we're just sat here?" I asked but Sam laughed, holding his finger in the book to keep his place as he lowered it to give me his full attention.

"We are talking about the same Y/N, right? She's been abducted, starved for months, tortured and still escaped. We did nothing to help, she just called us for a ride like nothing happened," He explained but I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, but that was before she moved in," I tried but Sam looked at me confused.

"She hasn't moved it, she wanted a break and came here. You must be head over heels in love if you think she's staying," He chuckled, going back to his book but noticing my silence. I wanted to deny it but my mouth didn't work. He looked up from the book, studying me a second before slamming the book down not caring about keeping the page anymore. "You're in love with Y/N?!" He practically shouted but I rolled my eyes, getting up to leave. He didn't take the hint that I was leaving because of him so followed me. "I knew you wanted to fuck her but I didn't realise you were in love," He continued. I groaned, walking down the hall aimlessly.

"I'm not in love with her," I tried but even I could tell my tone showed how bad I was lying.

"You are, oh my God. You have to tell her before she leaves." He cheered but I rolled my eyes. I stopped in my tracks, facing him looking annoyed.

"She tells us every day that she doesn't need a man to hold her hand, she'd laugh in my face if I told her," I sighed, finally giving in because this topic has been clouding my judgment for months. Ever since she wore a dress to a hunt and still looked badass I knew I wanted more than sex, when Lucifer himself threatened her and she practically scared him off I knew it was love. Ever since I have grown to love her more, even small things I wouldn't normally notice became my fixation. Like how she mouths the words when she reads slightly or bites down on her nail when she's thinking. All of it made me fall deeper in love with her. Yet she shows no interest in me.

"She doesn't need a man to hold her hand but she might want one," Sam tried but I scoffed.

"We've known her for over a year, I've never once seen her hint at even sex never mind a relationship," I explained. Sam went to dismiss my comment but stopped to look at me confused. He heard it too. I turned around, there's something here. It sounded like something metal clinking against marble. Confused I walked down the hall. Maybe she's back, hopefully, she didn't hear our conversation.

I approached Y/N's door as Sam stood close behind me, I pushed the door open. I froze as I noticed Y/N on her knees in front of the fire shirtless. She had a maroon bra on and hadn't noticed us. I watched mesmerised and perplexed by what she was doing. My jaw dropped as she pulled an iron stake from the fire and pressed it to her chest over her heart. I wanted to rush in and stop her but I was stunned as rather than scream she dropped her head back and groaned. It was borderline pornographic and would definitely infect my mind many times in the future. Sam grabbed my shoulder but didn't move, it pulled me back to reality, I glanced at him seeing his jaw drop open and concern written all over his face. I looked back at her, eyes wide as she moaned again, pushing the stake a little harder before pulling it away. My mouth dried as I watched the scene.

"I love you," She looked up at us, completely unfazed. You wouldn't think she branded herself just seconds before. She looked at me confused and it hit me that I said it out loud. She put the stake down with a smile, chuckling softly before she stood up, not bothered by her shirtless figure as she faced me. I knew Sam would be looking away but my eyes wouldn't let me. My God!

"Good to know," She said slightly confused. I sighed realising she probably thinks I'm a creep. I mean, I am. She's standing shirtless, in a maroon bra but brand new burn above her heart I should be concerned about but I can't take my eyes off her chest. My God. I've never been a tits man but for her, I'm an everything man.

"What did you do?" Sam asked. I finally pulled my eyes away as I glanced at him, he turned away to look up the hall. He has more willpower than I do.

"No one would give me the tattoo so I branded myself," She explained as if it was no big deal. I looked at her concerned, slightly worried and turned on. I fall deeper in love.

"Why wouldn't you just go somewhere else?" Sam asked but she rolled her eyes and walked away to grab a cardigan, tying it around herself loosely so the fabric didn't touch her burn but covered herself. I frowned slightly. I finally looked at the burn. I rushed forward moving the cardigan slowly to see it fully.

"What the fuck, you actually did it," I exclaimed as I looked at the red skin surrounding the black burn. A perfect print of the anti-possession tattoo that matched Sam and I's.

"Well, yeah," She chuckled as if it were obvious. We saw her do it, I wouldn't doubt she would have if she'd told me beforehand but anyone else would be too scared. Not Y/N, not perfect Y/N. Sam followed me in, looking at it closely. We shared a look before I stepped back. She laughed as she shrugged. "It's not a big deal," She shrugged moving away to grab her glass from the top of the drawers. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Did it not hurt?" I asked, my concern showing in my tone. She chuckled.

"I've felt worse," She shrugged taking a sip of her drink. God, I really do love her.

"I'm going to get the first aid kit. No more branding while I'm gone," Sam warned but she chuckled as he walked out.

"Aw, but I had a tramp stamp made too," She joked but looked at me with an innocent smile. "I actually have another one if you want to do it for me?" She asked but I looked at her like she was crazy. She rolled her eyes, moving to kneel in front of the fire again.

"What? No!" I exclaimed, grabbing her shoulder to try and move her away.

"Ow," She exclaimed, I quickly pulled my hands away, thinking I pressed on her burn. I knew I fell for her trick when she quickly grabbed another stake that was heating in the fire, pulled the tie on her cardigan and pushed it into her skin above her right hip. I gasped, readying for her to scream but she groaned again. Standing above her and looking down on the scene only made it hotter. My God. I turned away knowing I would soon be erect if I didn't try to clear my mind.

"What are you doing?" Sam exclaimed from the door, quickly rushing in, he grabbed the stake, burning his hand slightly as he dropped it to the floor. She rolled her eyes with a theatrical groan.

"You're so boring, Dean didn't mind," She played but I quickly protested.

"I tried to stop her," I held my hands up in defence as Sam looked at me shocked. Sam shook his head, turning his eyes to the first aid kit he brought in with him. Y/N seemed to smirk.

"I can patch myself up," She groaned but Sam shook his head, avoiding looking at her.

"No, I'm putting my foot down." He insisted. I watched, amazed he stood up to her. I wouldn't even do that even if I had a death wish.

"You can't even look at me," She chuckled. Sam looked her in the eyes for a second before looking away not wanting to gawk at her. She laughed, sitting back so she could move her legs from under her.

"I'll do it," I chimed in. I regret it instantly. She looked at me, her eyebrows showing she was shocked but her clenched jaw and eyes told me she wasn't happy. I shouldn't have said anything, she'll kill me and I'd thank her while she did it. She dominates me with just eye contact how am I going to put my foot down to her?

I took Sam's place in front of her, I avoided her eyes as I knew if I looked into them I would lose the nerve. Sam walked out as she took the cardigan off. I used all my focus to look at the branding and not her boobs. I saw her smirking in my peripheral vision.

"So, you love me?" She asked, teasing in her tone. I gulped. I need to grow a backbone, she has too much control over me. Now that I'm putting my foot down to her, it's the perfect time.

"So what if I do?" I asked, focusing on her anti-possession brand as I began cleaning it. She didn't even flinch when the alcohol touched her burns, she just moaned. I felt my blood rushing to where I didn't want it. I focused on my actions hoping I had enough control to get through this.

"I just think that's a weird thing to say after watching someone brand themself," She commented with a slight shrug. I glanced at her lips as she bit down. My breath hitched, and I fixed my eyes on the brand.

"Maybe that's my kink," I tempted but she smirked.

"It is now," She smirked. I gulped, finally looking at her face to see she was looking flirtatious. A look I had never seen her make before. I smirked.

"To rights," I confirmed. She smiled as she rested back on her hands letting me clean her without argument. This was the best thing that could have happened!!!!

Masterlist

[scarletqueenx]

chapter nine - afterglow

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: After a few months dating, Dean abandoned you in a motel room without giving you any explanation, years later his brother and he saved you from a demon and now you hunt with them discovering every day new mysteries about your family and the destiny that awaits you. Heaven, hell, demons, angels, vampires, witches and much more.

Author’s Note: English is not my first language. This is my first time writing in the readers perspective, as i'm used to write oc´s.

Warnings: light smut

series masterlist

After discovering that Calum had lied about placing explosives around the house to get Maddie and Peter out of their hiding place, the nerves in Maddie and the two Winchester brothers calmed down a bit.

Yet the three were still worried about the condition of the two Holloway siblings, who after an hour since the burst of light still hadn't woken up.

"Any idea where she got that knife?" Dean asked as he entered the kitchen, where his brother had settled after grabbing several of Henry's books to check out the weapon.

"No. Nothing." Sam replied, examining the knife. "The only thing we've seen that can kill a demon so far is the Colt and Ruby's knife. But this one doesn't look like hers."

"Do you know where Laurel Holloway got this knife?" Dean turned to Maddie as she entered the kitchen to throw the shards of broken glass from the living room window.

"It wasn't until five years ago, when my mother died that I learned of the supernatural. That night, before those two demons, Ophelia and Calum showed up at our house to kill her, she told me that she had that book and knife in her safe and quickly explained to me who they belonged to. The rest of the things I know, like what works against a demon, Henry explained to me." Maddie explained.

"Then we have nothing until he comes back." Sam sighed, looking at his brother.

"Yeah. And he's not answering his calls." Dean said.

"We should burn that guy's remains."

Dean nodded.

"Do you have to burn him?" Maddie looked at them with confusion.

"Henry didn't tell you about ghosts?" Dean raised his eyebrows. Maddie stayed silence. "Salt and burn, so the spirits don't get trapped and can rest. Plus, less evidence."

"Okay." She sighed. "Do what you have to do. You guys are the experts. I'll go check on them."

"If they wake up or Henry shows up or calls, you send us a message immediately." Dean ordered. "We'll be back in an hour at the most."

"Okay." Maddie nodded, trying to stay calm. But Sam couldn't help but notice her uneasiness and the hesitant tone in her voice, so he turned to his brother.

"Get the house ready so no more demons come back in." Sam spoke.

"Okay." Dean sighed before leaving the kitchen.

Maddie watched him in relief, turning towards Sam as she noticed his gaze on her.

"We'll get some food." He said then. "Any requests?"

"Alcohol?" Her answer sounded more like a question, but the request was completely serious. Sam smiled amused.

"Beer or something stronger?"

"I don't care." Maddie admitted with a shrug.

"All right."

"Oh, and... You don't need to buy food. The fridge is full, I can cook something."

"Oh, we don't want to bother..."

"It's no bother." She assured, interrupting him. "Cooking would do some good to me right now for distraction."

"Okay." Sam accepted then, giving her a slight reassuring smile that Maddie didn't hesitate to return.

"The house is secure." Dean announced, walking back into the kitchen, gaining their attention.

"Good, let's go." Sam declared, grabbing his jacket. "Oh, if by any chance any demons come, use the knife." He informed Maddie before leaving the kitchen. The girl sighed, resting her gaze on the weapon resting on the counter, nodding slightly at his words.

When the Winchester brothers got back to the Holloway house, the place seemed much more welcoming. The smell of freshly cooked food was the first thing they noticed, as well as the radical change in temperature compared to the cold air of that particular evening.

Still the house was particularly quiet and the lack of life in it was noticeable. The fact that Peter wasn't running through the halls with his toy guns or reading a comic book on the stairs was very strange. Trying to forget that uncomfortable feeling, Dean and Sam headed for the kitchen, where they found Maddie sitting, reading a lore book with the knife next to her.

"Hey, smells good." Dean admitted, depositing a bag on the island counter. Maddie looked up at him, giving him a slight smile.

"Thanks. I made lasagna. I hope you like it."

"We brought ice cream and pie." Sam announced, taking off his jacket.

"The pie is mine." Dean warned them, earning an amused smile from Maddie.

"Oh, that's okay. I'm not really that hungry." Maddie shrugged.

"First time seeing a body and fighting a demon?" Dean raised his eyebrows, pulling a bottle of beer from the pack he and Sam had just bought.

"The latter, yes, the former... It's complicated." She answered, looking back at the book in front of her.

The two brothers shared a look, but decided to drop the subject when they noticed that it didn't seem to be a very pleasant one for Maddie.

"Any news?" Dean decided to change the subject, taking a swig of the beer in his hand.

Maddie shook her head. "No. They're still asleep. And no word from Henry."

Dean sighed in disappointment.

"What's the plan now?" Maddie looked at them with expectation.

"To wait." Sam answered. "Maybe call Bobby tomorrow."

"Yeah." Dean nodded as he served a plate of food for his brother and another for himself.

"You should get some sleep." Sam turned back to Maddie. "Dean and I will take shifts watching in case Henry shows up or that demon comes back."

Maddie's gaze traveled from Sam to Dean and back to Sam. "Are you sure?" She asked. "I mean... I can take a shift even if I'm not a hunter."

"Don't worry. We'll take care of it." He assured her.

"Okay." She sighed, getting to her feet. "I don't think I'll get much sleep, though. Enjoy the dinner."

"Thanks." Sam gave her a slight smile while Dean just nodded with his mouth full of food.

Maddie smiled back at them, hesitantly leaving the kitchen. Part of her wasn't convinced she could trust them, because she didn't really know them. But she had to remember that those two boys were your friends, skilled hunters and certainly far more capable than she was of protecting the house that night. But letting others protect her had never been Maddie's style. As an only child, she was used to protecting herself. Though that was against human people, not monsters and demons.

Sitting in the living room, the Winchester brothers ate a portion of Maddie's homemade lasagna while watching the news on TV. Outside, the rain had finally started to ease after three hours where it hadn't stopped pouring.

"I'm going upstairs to eat the pie." Dean announced after finishing his plate, getting up from the couch and grabbing his and his brother's plate. "I'll check on them. You should sleep. I'll take the first shift."

"You sure?" Sam looked up at him with hesitation.

"Yeah. I'm not really that tired anyway." Dean answered, walking to the kitchen.

"All right." Sam accepted, turning off the TV and standing up of the couch. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." Dean answered him from the kitchen, turning on the tap to start cleaning the dishes.

After a few minutes, Dean was so deep in thought as he cleared the kitchen that he barely noticed the presence of another person in the room until one of the floorboards creaked.

He then turned his head quickly toward the sound, meeting your figure, dressed still in your wet clothes, with two dark circles under your eyes and wet hair falling out of your bun. Your eyes had a confused look in them as you saw him there, but before you could speak, Dean stood in front of you, holding you by the arms.

"Sweetheart. Are you all right?" He looked you up and down with concern.

"Dean? What... what are you doing here?" You asked, raising your gaze to meet his. "What happened?"

Dean was about to explain everything, but you interrupted him quickly.

"Oh, my God. Peter." You exclaimed, ready to go back upstairs, but Dean held you tightly, keeping you in place.

"It's okay, it's okay. Take it easy." He spoke, looking into you eyes. "Peter's okay. He's in his room."

"And Maddie?"

"Sleeping in the guest room with Sammy."

You sighed with relief, your breathing slowly calming as you learned that everyone was okay.

"She... Ophelia was here."

"Yeah. She was." He nodded. "And she left when you destroyed that book and killed her friend. Pretty badass, by the way." Dean smiled with amusement, but this smile disappeared as soon as he noticed that you were still disoriented and didn't smile back at him.

"The book?" You asked.

"Turned to ashes." He replied, receiving a sigh of relief in response.

As the silence settled between the two of you, you felt the grip of Dean's hands on your arms getting looser and more delicate with every second. His thumbs stroked you over the fabric of the black t-shirt you were wearing, sending a shiver down your spine. As if he could feel that same shiver himself, Dean seemed to react then, taking a step back.

"Uh... are you hungry?" He asked, clearing his throat nervously. "Maddie prepared lasagna. And Sammy and I got ice cream. There's pie too." His eyes traveled to the kitchen island, avoiding the your gaze.

"Pie?" You tilted your head and raised your eyebrows with amusement. "You're going to share your pie with me?"

"Well, I didn't fight a demon today." He shrugged, connecting your gazes once again. "But don't take too long to decide or I'll take back my offer."

With a smile playing across your lips, you wrapped your arms around your body as you felt a blast of cold wind hit your wet clothes.

"I think I should take a shower." You admitted.

"Yeah, you're probably right." Dean sighed.

"Maybe when I come back you could have a plate of warm lasagna prepared for me." You walked closer to him with a smile painted on you lips.

Looking down at you, Dean nodded slightly, fighting the urge to hold your cheeks and kiss you right then and there.

Watching you fight that demon to protect your little brother, wearing those tight jeans and that black t-shirt with your damp hair and the fierce look in your eyes was perhaps the hottest he'd ever seen you.

"You bet." He whispered, smiling back at you.

What Dean didn't know was that you were also fighting your own urge to kiss him. Maybe if either of you weren't so dumb and used the courage you usually had to kill and face monsters you'd already be kissing. But instead, you went back up to you room to take a hot shower while Dean prepared dinner for Peter and you. The boy was still asleep when Dean went upstairs to check on him, but considering you had already woken up, he hoped Peter would soon follow.

"You didn't answer my question by the way."

You leaned against your doorway as you untangled your hair. Dean turned to you, noticing how you had changed out of your wet clothes into gray sweatpants and a t-shirt of your favorite band. You still looked almost as good as before, if not better.

"Why are you here?"

"Peter called me." Dean answered. "He didn't say much, but I could tell something was wrong. Plus, you weren't answering."

You nodded slightly, taking in his words.

"Thank you. For coming to his aid."

"Always." He assured. "I know how important Peter is to you. Like Sam is to me."

Your eyes traveled to the floor at his response, feeling frustrated and saddened by the situation you were in.

"I shouldn't have destroyed the book." You complained. "Maybe I could have made a deal to save you, I don't know, maybe..."

"Hey, hey." Dean walked over to you, holding your cheeks to make sure you looked him in the eyes and listened to him. "You saved Peter and Maddie's life. You took away something the demon wanted. Don't worry about me."

"That's impossible, Dean." You assured. "I'll always worry about you. I worry about everyone. It's my fatal flaw."

"Wrong, your fatal flaw is your unbearable stubbornness." He smiled with amusement, caressing your cheeks.

"Look who's talking." You smiled back at him as your eyes sparkled with a feeling Dean had never seen in them and didn't know how to name it either.

It seemed like forever since the two of you had been this close to each other. And yet it seemed as if you had never been. Since you had reconnected, your relationship seemed to have started completely anew. As if you were two strangers.

Your courage seemed to grow at that intimate moment, as you both began to lean toward each other, hoping to listen to your urges to press your lips together in a kiss. But, just like in the movies, something had to interrupt you.

Peter's voice calling out your name made you pull away from each other and turn your gazes towards the door of the boy's room. There he stood, looking at you in confusion.

"Hey, buddy, are you okay?" You ran to kneel in front of him, holding both sides of his face to look at him more closely. Peter nodded, lifting his gaze to Dean.

"You actually came." He observed, almost not believing that the hunter had come to his aid.

"Of course." Dean answered. "You're a pain in the ass, kid, but I don't want you dead."

"The feeling's not mutual." Peter replied.

"Peter." You scolded him.

"I was just joking." He defended himself. You looked back at him with disbelief. "I was."

"It's fine." Dean assured as he noticed your apologetic look. "Dinner's on the table, by the way. I've seen you have quite a movie collection, why don't you pick one and have dinner with your sister? There's ice cream." He smiled towards Peter, who looked at him hesitantly for a few seconds before nodding.

"Sounds good."

"Great. I'll wait for you downstairs." Dean said, clapping his hands before walking off down the hallway, leaving them alone.

You let out a sigh as you watched him disappear down the stairs, feeling an aching hole in your chest at the absence of his presence. Peter narrowed his eyes, noticing the change in you.

"You can go with him. I'm gonna go take a shower." His voice voice snapped you out of your thoughts, bringing you back to reality.

"Oh, no. No. I'll wait for you."

"You can do that downstairs. I'm fine." He assured.

"You sure you are?" You looked at him with concern. "Peter, I know what it's like to face a demon for the first time. Or any monster for that matter. You can talk to me."

"I know I can. But seriously, I'm fine. I knew what I had to do."

"It doesn't matter. Knowing the theory doesn't compare to the real thing. I just..."

"I'm fine." He interrupted.

Although his statement seemed firm and sincere, you could see right through him. Peter was trying to convince himself and you that everything was fine when it simply wasn't. And you both knew it, for since you had opened your eyes something in the two of you felt completely different. Yet neither of you could put your finger on what.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

After having dinner while watching Jurassic Park, one of Peter's comfort movies, you and him ended up falling asleep on the couch. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Dean put a blanket over you and busied himself picking up and washing the dishes. When he finished, he decided to sit on the couch next to you to watch the end of the movie while he ate the pie.

And that's how Sam found the three of you when he went downstairs in the middle of the night to do his watching shift. Rubbing his sleepy eyes, the young Winchester could make out the sleeping figure of his brother, Peter and you. Not wanting to wake you, he turned off the television, took a look around the lower floor and went back upstairs to the guest room, where Maddie was sleeping peacefully.

He stayed awake for a couple more hours, doing research on his computer before going back to his bed to get a little more sleep before sunrise.

The following morning, Peter was the first one up and soon followed by Sam and Maddie. The boy was reading a comic book while drinking a juice when they both entered the kitchen.

"Hey, kiddo, how did you sleep?" Maddie asked, ruffling his hair.

"Pretty good, actually." He admitted, looking up at her. "We're out of coffee and cookies, by the way."

"Well, we'll have to go shopping, then, right?" She said, receiving an enthusiastic nod from him. Peter wouldn't say it out loud, but he was anxious to get out of his house. Being there inevitably reminded him of the previous night's events and he felt somewhat trapped.

"We can take Dean's car." Sam suggested, grabbing the car keys from the counter. "I'll drive."

"Yeah, we should let them sleep." Admitted Maddie, glancing over at the living room, where Dean snd you still lay on the two comfy couches. Sam nodded in agreement with her, it was rare for his brother to sleep that much and he certainly needed it.

Still, it was only a few minutes after they left that Dean awoke to find a note on the coffee table beside him. A grunt left his lips as he read that there was no coffee left and that he would have to wait for his brother, Maddie and Peter to return before he could have what was the most important drink of the day for him.

"They left five minutes ago, it'll take them a while to get back." You spoke from the other couch. Dean turned to you, surprised to find you awake. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling while one of your hands fiddled with the necklace around your neck.

"How long have you been awake?" He asked.

You sighed, rising to a sitting position.

"Since Peter got up. I was comfortable so I pretended to be asleep." You shrugged.

A small smile tugged at Dean's lips at your response.

"Did you sleep well?" You asked.

"Yeah." He nodded. "This couch is very comfortable."

"I know. I've lost count of how many times Peter and I fell asleep here while watching movies." You smiled, standing up.

"Did you sleep well?" Dean asked, following your steps towards the stairs.

"Yes, I've already told you that the couch is very comfortable-"

"I'm not talking about that." Dean interrupted you, shaking his head.

You sighed, stopping in your tracks in the middle of the stairs before turning on your heels to look at him.

"Nightmares aren't new to me, and I actually didn't have that many tonight. Having Peter by my side helped a lot." You explained.

Dean nodded silently.

After that you continued on your way upstairs, splitting up in the hallway as you went into your room and Dean into the guest room so he could take a shower. You intended to change your clothes, but as you went into your room the feelings overwhelmed you, paralyzing you for what seemed like hours but had only been minutes.

"Hey. Sweetheart." Dean watched you from the doorway, confused and concerned to see you still in your pijamas while he had already showered and changed clothes. His voice seemed to bring you back to reality, as you slowly turned toward him, catching the loving gleam in his green eyes. "Are you all right?"

Blinking several times, you nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You assured him, turning back to your closet.

Dean sighed, watching carefully as you reached for a fresh set of clothes.

"You know what. No. I'm actually not fine." You snapped, turning back to him. "I'm tired. A demon killed my mother and a demon was going to kill my brother last night. It's like they have something against me, you know? And I didn't do anything. I was just a kid when she died. And if that wasn't enough, they're going to take you too." Your eyes filled with tears, your voice broke and your breathing became rapid. "Just when I was starting to feel like you and I... They're going to take you away from me again. And I don't know what to do."

Dean didn't know what to say. He wanted to comfort you, to tell you that everything was going to be all right, that your brother would be safe, that he would be safe. But he couldn't. He could tell you that you would get over him leaving, you would get on with your life. Dean really thought so. But for you these last few months had been if possible even more important to you than the time you two had dated years ago. It was as if a different connection had appeared between the two of you. Dean felt it too. As if something supernatural drew him to you.

Something supernatural that made him walk straight to you, hold your cheeks and place his lips against yours in a breathtaking kiss. Passionate and delicate at the same time. Full of feelings that none could name or describe. Magical even.

His lips felt so familiar that it hurt you. You let yourself sink into his embrace as your heartbeat accelerated like never before. But in that instant Dean seemed to realize what he was doing so he stopped the kiss immediately, taking a step back.

"I'm sorry, are you sure you-" Dean whispered. But before he could finish the sentence you kissed him again, this time in a more heated way.

Your breaths mingled passionately in your mouths. Your hands grabbed his clothes and pulled him closer as you began to step backwards, taking him with you. Dean let himself go until your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Moving his hands down to your waist, Dean began to lay you down on the mattress, hovering over you without breaking the kiss, making you feel a rush of heat surge through your body. His tongue slid over your bottom lip, gently asking you to open your mouth for him. You didn't hesitate to do it, letting your tongues meet as your hands caressed the muscles of his arms all the way up to his well-shaped shoulders and back.

His hands moved lower and lower, eventually slipping under the hem of your shirt and gliding along the smooth skin of your side, making you moan softly as you surrendered further to the intoxicating feeling of being touched by him. You arched your back against him, your body seeking out more of his touch as your lips and tongues moved in perfect unison. He quickly responded by leaving a trail of hot kisses down your neck with a tender possessiveness that made your breath catch in your throat. You tangled your fingers into his hair as you pulled him closer.

As he continued to explore every inch of you, his left hand slowly moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lovingly over your bottom lip. The combination of tenderness and heat was a heady mix, causing you to melt into him even more.

You were the first to feel the eagerness to make the layers of clothing separating you disappear, your hands tugging at Dean's shirt. He couldn't help but smile against your lips at this, pulling away slightly to get rid of the piece of clothing himself. You couldn't resist the temptation of his exposed skin. With trembling hands, you slowly traced your fingers along his muscular chest. You could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, echoing your own.

At the same time, his hands began to roam over your body, tracing intricate patterns on your skin as he worshipped every inch of you. He lifted your shirt, his fingers teasing the hem of your bra, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You gasped at his touch, your breath coming in shallow pants as you longed for more. As his lips found yours once more, you met him eagerly, your arms encircling his neck and pulling him closer. Dean's hands moved to your back, unhooking your bra with a skillful flick, your lips never breaking contact. He gently caressed you, his touch both soothing and arousing.

You returned his kisses with fervor, clinging to him as if he was the very air you needed to breathe. It was a moment of pure bliss and passion that you never wanted to end.

Overwhelmed by the sensations, the two of you separated slightly, your breaths quickening as your eyes opened to meet each other's. A faint smile tugged at both your lips before meeting once again. You felt a wave of heat wash over your skin as Dean's mouth crashed against your own, making the world around you fade away. His lips were soft, yet urgent and eager, moving against your almost as if he was searching for something deeper within you.

He caressed you face with a tender touch, savoring every moment. You felt as if time stopped. Dean had a way of making you feel safe and loved, and you couldn't help but melt into him, your lips dancing with his in perfect harmony. Your bodies pressed even closer together, making you feel a little overwhelmed by the intensity of you connection, your body responding to his in every way.

Dean's hands found their way down to your sweatpants, his fingertips teasing the waistband. You eagerly helped him remove your remaining clothing, wanting nothing more than to feel him everywhere.

You were a tangle of limbs and kisses, exploring each other's bodies with a sense of urgency and need. The room was filled with the sounds of your breathing and the soft rustling of your clothes as you tossed them aside, your bodies now fully exposed to each other. Dean's lips traced a path along your collarbone, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin. Your fingers threaded through his hair, holding him close, as you surrendered entirely to the overwhelming sensations he was awakening within you. Every touch, every breath, was a step closer to that edge you so desperately craved.

Your hands moved to Dean's abdomen, your fingertips tracing of his muscles. You could feel his anticipation, the way he quivered under your fingers. You arched towards him, your body craving more of his touch, the overwhelming desire pooling between your legs, leaving you aching for him to claim you completely.

Dean's hand brushed against the most intimate part of you, a gasp escaping your lips at the sudden contact. The heat from his fingers seemed to burn through you, igniting a fire that spread throughout your entire body. Your entire being was consumed by desire, your mind cloudy with pleasure as he continued to explore you.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, your bodies met, becoming one. You felt the world spin at the overwhelming sensation of feeling him inside you. Your eyes rolled up into your head with each thrust. Dean watched you with care and appreciation as he felt the same desire consume him.

Your bodies moved against each other effortlessly, as if they fit together like pieces of a puzzle. You gripped his shoulders, trying to ground yourself amidst the flood of sensations overwhelming you. As he took control, you gave in to him completely, your body responding to every touch with a shiver of anticipation. It was a moment of complete and all-encompassing surrender, where nothing else mattered except for the two of you and the way you moved together.

Dean's hands moved down your waist to your hips, where he firmly held you against him as he captured your lower lip between his teeth. A low moan escape your lips at that, his tongue grazing yours as he devoured you with a hunger that matched your own. You couldn't remember a time when you had felt more alive and sad at the same time, because you new this wasn't going to last. Dean would soon be gone. But you wanted to forget that fact for a moment, and for every moment you'll share together after this.

His touch was like a drug, one you had grown utterly addicted to. Dean's mouth moved to your ear, whispering sweet nothings in a low, husky voice that sent shivers down your spine. It was as if he knew exactly how to play your body, and he kinda did.

You couldn't get enough of him, your hands roaming over his body, trying to memorize every dip and curve. Dean's fingers traced lightly over your skin as if seeking to memorize every inch of you. You felt as if you were floating on a cloud, you body reacting to his touch with an almost primal hunger. Each touch sent fire racing through your veins, and you could feel the heat pooling in your core, aching for release. You longed to pull him even closer, to feel every part of him pressed against yours.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your hearts beating as one, as the two of you lost yourselves in the all-consuming fire between you. You arched your back, a soft moan escaping your lips, as he expertly guided you towards that peak, his touch sending you reeling. Your breath came in short gasps, as he led you closer and closer to the release.

In a final thrust, the waves of pleasure crashed over you in a overwhelming force. Your body shuddered, your hands gripping the sheets as you cried out his name, surrendering to the intense sensation that had taken over your entire being. Dean held you through your shared release, his lips finding yours in a tender yet passionate kiss.

Your bodies shuddered together in the aftermath, your breaths mingling as you lay entwined. In that moment, you two existed in a world completely separate from everything else, wrapped up in each other, consumed by the intensity of what you had experienced together.

The room fell silent, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of the sheets and your synchronized breaths. The air was heavy with a mix of passion and contentment, the remnants of your lovemaking lingering like a sweet perfume. You traced your fingers along Dean's back, the sensation grounding you and reminding you both that this wasn't just a fleeting moment of passion, but a connection that ran deep and genuine.

In the quiet stillness that followed your intimate encounter, Dean brushed a few sweaty locks of hair away from your face, his touch soft and soothing as a gentle, lovesick smile played at his lips as he looked deep into your eyes.

"That was incredible." He whispered softly, his voice filled with awe. He caressed your cheek gently, his touch sending sparks of electricity through you.

You couldn't find the words to express the intensity of what you were feeling, so you simply nodded, a wide smile spreading across your face.

"It was." You whispered back, your voice filled with awe and contentment. You felt as if you could stay there forever. Just being in his arms, you knew you were exactly where you belonged.

You lay there for a while, with your bodies entwined together, basking in the afterglow of your shared passion. You rested your head against Dean's chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. He played with your hair gently, his touch both calming and thrilling at the same time. It was a moment of perfect peace and happiness, a connection that seemed timeless and unbreakable. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated love that made you feel as if anything was possible, as long as the two of you were together. Even though you new that wasn't the truth. It was a deep, soulful connection that transcended anything you had experienced before.

As you lingered in the embrace, Dean gently stroked your hair and pressed tender kisses against your temple. He held you tightly yet tenderly, his touch conveying comfort, stability, and security. You felt a sense of tranquillity wash over you, knowing that you were cherished and beloved in a way you had never experienced before. Even if Dean never said it out loud.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

When Sam, Maddie and Peter came back, Dean and you tried to act as if nothing had happened or changed between you. After your passionate encounter and spending a silent, quiet time entwined between the sheets of your bed, words seemed useless in the wake of what had been such a deep connection. In a slightly stupid way, you were both scared to talk about the feelings it had brought up in you and the consequences that came with them.

Still, it was inevitable for Sam to notice something different after spending months by your side. The longing glances across the room, the comfort in feeling each other's touch, the magnetism your bodies seemed to have to always end up next to one another despite starting the conversations on opposite sides of a room. But even so, Sam decided not to say anything. Especially since everyone's heads were now on more important topics.

Topics that you all decided to avoid until Henry showed up at the house that evening. That was your sign to share the information you all had, about the knife, the book and the demons that had attacked you last night.

After hearing everything that had happened, Henry decided to be honest with Maddie and the Winchester brothers about who Ophelia was. A witch, now demon, who had helped Laurel's ancestor to have children at the time of the Salem trials and who had been burned at those same trials. He also explain that Laurel's bloodline was full of witches, due to the potion with which Ophelia had gotten her ancestor to have a daughter. And that the search for that same magic and book was what had led to Laurel and Christine's summer camp attack when they were teens, Laurel's deal to get her friend back and the death of both of them.

But now that the book was destroyed, you all came to the conclusion that this power in your family's blood no longer existed and that Peter and you had no magic, you were just human.

Also, thanks to Henry's information, you now knew that the knife with which you had killed Calum had been a weapon that your mother had created with her own powers, unique and special for killing demons.

"So you took him back to the mental institution?" You asked once your father and you enter his office.

"The demon left his body after screaming in pain and Carter fell to the ground unconscious." He explained.

"He has already broken out of there once."

"I had nowhere else to take him so I could come home. It was my only option. And if he's smart and doesn't want the demons to use his body again, he'll stay there."

You nodded slightly, watching your father closely as you sensed there were still things he was keeping from you.

"So... everything is over?" You asked after a few moments. "They only wanted that book and us so Ophelia could regain her power and become the queen of hell?"

"Basically." Henry nodded.

"And by destroying it, the power went with the book?"

"That's right. So, now I don't think it's necessary for you to go after them."

"What do you mean?" You frowned.

"Well, Ophelia wanted to overthrow the current leader of Hell, surely the demons working for him are now after her and Dorian and that's why they've run away." Henry pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." You nodded slightly. "Uh... Dean and Sam are going to go on a hunt by themselves. I'll stay here for those days and then rejoin them."

"Okay. It's good to have you home, honey."

"Yeah, you too, I guess." You sighed with a hint of irritation. Henry could sense your anger towards him. After the events of the past month he couldn't blame you, so he let you leave his office without another word.

The fact that everything that had started at that summer camp with your mother and Christine had apparently ended the night before didn't make your desire to avenge your mother's death go away. And your determination to save Dean from the fate that awaited him had only intensified after your intimate encounter of that morning. The depth of your connection and the way you had shared yourselves with each other filled you  with an even deeper resolve. You knew that you could never go back to the way things were before.

Keep Reading: Chapter Ten

AN: 🎃 HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🎃 Looking forward to reading your reactions to this chapter.

Tag List: @deans-spinster-witch @lmhf1 @mochminnie @helo1281917 @barnes70stark @slyregg

If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment

[goddessofroyalty]

Fandom: Arcane 

Verse: Zaun Family  

Pairing: pre-Caitlyn/Vi 

I’m working on a prompt fill but have been meaning to write the slight changes to the Episode One heist in this verse for a while and thought with the Season One rewatch fresh on my brain it was a good time to do it.  

This is one of those ones where you realise this verse very much could exist without me adding my Usual Bullshit(TM) onto it and it wouldn't change anything. This is a young girl completely changing the course of events through a single lie.  

------------

“Tell us what you saw Miss Kiramman,” Dean Heimerdinger says to her, the closed ceiling Council Chamber casting a shadow over him and the other Councilor sitting circled around her staring down at her. Her own mother watching with a carefully blank expression. Jayce not meeting her eyes where he stands to the side with Enforcers flanking him, hands clasped in front of him and head bowed in guilt. 

Caitlyn reminds herself it is not her on trial.  

Footsteps thunder down the hall before she can give her testimony. The Zaun Representative suddenly filling the doorway, his scared, red eye glowing in the dim light of the Council Chamber in trial as he catches his breathe enough to yell that it is unjust for him not to even be informed such a trial is happening. Caitlyn had never seen the level of rage on a person before. His chipped teeth bared like the dogs some keep to prevent people from breaking into their properties. Looking every bit the demon she had sometimes heard people refer to him as in hissed angry tones.  

“We are still determining if there was Undercity involvement,” Councilor Bolbok says. “We can hardly let their representative be involved lest you try and hide your people’s crimes.”  

“Get him out of here!” Councilor Hoskel orders with a dismissive nod to the Enforcers.  

“Don’t you fucking touch me,” the Zaun Representative snarls as they near him. Standing tall as he fixes his vest and shirt from where they had wrinkled in his haste. “I have as much of a right to watch as anyone here.”  

Looks are exchanged between the Councilors before finally Councilor Medarda speaks up.  

“You may stay so long as you do not disrupt the proceedings.”  

“I wouldn’t dare,” the Zaun Representative replies with a dry tone and forced smile. Glancing at the Enforcers who step back from him before walking to the gathered audience. He finds the shadows of the room where his eye seems to glow out of it. Caitlyn unable to block its gaze from the corner of her eye. Cannot ignore the feeling that it is watching her and her alone.  

Caitlyn reminds herself she is not the one on trial.  

“Well, now that that’s settled. Miss Kiramman,” Dean Heimerdinger says, bringing everyone else’s attention onto her as well, “what do you remember seeing?”  

What did you see? Sheriff Grayson had asked her. Hands tight on Caitlyn’s shoulders as the explosion still rings through her ears and the smell of fire and ozone fills her lungs.  

“I-”  

“Spit it out already!” Councilor Salo says. 

“Give her a minute. She has been through a traumatic event!”  

“It was traumatic for all of us. An attack on our city! In broad daylight!”  

“Unprecedented!”  

“That is enough!” Dean Heimerdinger says, looking frazzled at the situation. His eyes kind as he looks at her. “I know this is likely overwhelming for you but it is important we get to the truth at the bottom of this whole mess. So please, to the best of your ability, tell us what you remember of the incident.”  

All the eyes in the room look at her to tell them what she saw. An almost bored expectation in some, waiting for her to confirm what they believed happened so they can send the Enforcers out to hunt down those involved. Curiosity and sympathy in others for her, the young girl standing in front of a crowd to testify about an event that she isn’t to blame for. Cold judgement from the glowing eye in the corner. 

They will believe you over everyone else who was here. Think carefully about what to tell them young Kiramman. 

She had thought carefully.  

And, so, she doesn’t tell them that she remembers a pink-haired girl yelling at her to get down! Just as she doesn’t tell them how warm her body felt lying over Caitlyn’s, the weird excitement of her scent as she asked are you okay? Nor the callouses on her fingers that brushed the hair that had fallen over Caitlyn’s face before the weight suddenly came off Caitlyn. The sound of yelling and footsteps fading into the distance until suddenly Caitlyn had been pulled to her feet by Sheriff Grayson. 

Instead she tells them:  

“Jayce told me that the crystals were dangerous and I shouldn’t touch them. But I had never seen anything like them before and I thought so long as I was careful. I dropped one, I think. I didn’t mean for it to happen.” 

“No, that’s not right, there were other people there,” Jayce says, suddenly looking up and around the room with scared desperate eyes. And Caitlyn does feel terrible because he is right, there had been others. But there feels like there is something more to this. One of the games adults play that she is too young to understand. And when she looks at the Sheriff watching the trial there is something like pride in her expression. “There had been a girl – she had blue hair.”  

Caitlyn feels the eyes of everyone in the room settled on her and her blue hair.  

She is sorry.  

“Thank you Miss Kiramman,” Dean Heimerdinger says with a kind, reassuring smile. Because he knows it must be hard to betray her friend and tutor like that even if he thinks it is only because she is telling the truth despite how it will harm Jayce. “You can be excused. I doubt we will need anything more from you.” 

“Thank you.”  

As Caitlyn makes her way out of the Council Chamber, she dares a glance at the Zaun Representative only to find his gaze assessing. And Caitlyn can only hurry from the room in response.  

[markpellegrinoimagines]

Cell

Summary: What if The reader gets Lucifer a phone and now has to teach him how to use it?

TW: None

Fluff

~~~

Y/n P.o.V

The box felt heavy in my hand as I peeled back the thin shrink wrap plastic. It filled the room with a soft crinkle as I pushed the mess to the side and slipped the thin and light device from its protective box. The phone was one of the new models with a cheap payment plan set up for it. The screen lit uo as I swiped through apps and settings. My (E/c) eyes traveled over the device as I added my phone number as well as the few others I knew to the contact list. It only took a few minute to add My number, the Winchesters, and Gabriel under the speed dial options. The entire time I was doing this I could feel an inquisitive gaze digging into my back. Those Glacial blue eyes creating a trail of icy flame along my skin.

Lucifer had his head tilted in that way that all the angels seemed to do when interested or confused. I shot a look accompanied by a brow raise over my shoulder when the digging feeling of his eyes disappeared. I'd barely suppressed the flinch of surprise when the Fallen Angel was suddenly in the library chair on my right. The lips of Lucifers vessel quirked, his ancient gaze picking up in even the smallest of twitches.

I let out a small sigh, before spinning in my seat to face him directly. My smile was polite and without judgment as I look upon the devil sat beside me at the table. I could see his face relax briefly before the smirk was back.

"You seem to be quite invested in something over here, human." His tone was playful and pushy, like a child wanting to know what was going on.

"Ah, I'm setting Up a phone."

Those blue eyes of his blinked and the blond strands atop his head shifted with the slight tilt of his chin. "Did something happen with yours?"

"Oh no, this one isn't for me~" My smirk was small and teasing as I gently picked up the device from the surface of the table and then teasingly wiggled it beneath his nose. "It's yours!"

Lucifers face scrunched up as he looked down at the human communications device. "I have no need for such a pathetically inferior-"

"Lucifer..take the damn phone."

Blonde brows furrowed, and those chilling eyes snapped up to meet my own with a silent warning. I paid it no mind. However, Lucifer always seemed to be all talk whenever it came to the threats and warnings he'd thrown my way. My smile was exasperated and expectant as I wiggled it again.

"If You want to enjoy my presence~ All you have to do is, Pray, Human~"

The snort that forced its way past my lips was a strangled cackle. "You wish. No this is so you can communicate without having to fly everywhere."

The angel took the phone from my hand with a surpsingly gentle touch. I sat watching him as he turned it over in his hands.

My (h/c) brows hiked up my face, waiting for him to unlock the screen. But he just continued to stare down at it with a pinched expression.

"Do.. Do you need help..?"

Lucifers shoulders hunched up in a way that I knew meant he was on the defensive.

"I am Lucifer, I don't need the assistance of a mud monkey."

Irritation flared briefly before I smirked. "Then unlock the screen, Lucifer~"

His jaw ticked and clenched before the space he'd been perched in became empty air with a fluttering of feathers. He'd taken the phone with him...

--

At some point during Lucifer extended stay within the Bunker, I'd become the unofficial go-between for the winchesters and the fallen angel. Currently, Dean wanted information on a hunt he and Sam were doing. Apparently, it involved an older demon that Lucifer could give them information on.

That's how I found myself standing in the doorway of Lucifers room. An amused glint sparked in my eyes as I took in the way Lucifer was sat on his bed like a frustrated teenager while somehow fumbling with the phone I'd gifted him the same way I'd seen some elderly humans do.

My hands lifted to my lips unsuccessfully, muffling the chuckle that slipped out. It was almost worth seeing the way his back straightened out, and lucifers head snapped in my direction with a surprised fall to his face like a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"You know, If you're struggling with the phone, You can just ask me to show you how it works."

"I am not-!!"

"Right.. You're the almighty and perfect Lucifer~ I got it."

The huff I received in response brought a roll to my eyes. Before the archangel could protest against it, I was walking into the room and settling myself on his bed beside him. Like he wasn't a being older than life on earth itself and could kill me with a twitch to his fingers. I held out my hand palm up expectantly, and slowly, the angel set the device there.

I spun the phone in my hand so that I could show him the small button on the side. "This turns it on and off, and a tap can lock the screen." A swift click, and the screen lit up, revealing the generic wallpaper. The angel didn't have a password or pin set up yet. So I just swiped my thumb across the glass to unlock it. "Let's start with the simple things first. The basics~."

I was leaning into the angels' space as I began going through the first few apps. "I've already added several contacts in here for you, including Mine and Gabriel's numbers."

"I see..."

I could nearly see the cogs turning in the blonds head as I continued scrolling through the different apps that came with the phone. He was thankfully a quick learner, I'd thought this was going to be like teaching Cas how to text all over again. But thankfully, even though the angel had been defensive, he seemed to actually be listening to everything I said.

Once we ran through the basics a few times, I felt a smirk pull at my lips again.

"Now it's time for the best part!"

I ignored the furrowing of brows and Lucifer hadn't been prepared for when my arm curled around his vessels shoulders pulling him in tight to my side as I lift his phone and a bright flash and a click went off. The angel was looking between the device and me, and he seemed to be unable to decide between figuring out if he should be angry at the touch or curious about the photo.

My thumbs tapped and swiped across his screen with intent as I snickered. When I was done, I turned the screen for him to see. His wallpaper had been changed to the picture I'd just taken. My smile in it was big, stretching across my face while Lucifer was staring at me with shocked and wide eyes.

"There! Now you get to appreciate my 'devilishly' good looks everyday~"

That conflicted expression on his face fell into a bemused stare.

"A bit full of yourself, eh?"

"I get that you're an old man, Luci, but that doesn't mean you have to act like one."

"O-Old!? I am in the prime of my eternity! Thank you very much!"

I waved him off, instead moving the phone so he could see what I was doing as i opened the settings and design menu option. He seemed more interested in this aspect of the phone than the communication side of it. It wasn't all that surprising.

It almost made me excited to move on to the app store~ and all of the things he'd be able to explore. The determined and focused crinkle between his brows gave away exactly how much he was paying attention to what I was showing him.

Honestly, Human hating Fallen angels really shouldn't be this endearing..

~~

@tone-stark @b1adez

[downs1de-has-moved]

THE MOST CLICHÉ LINES OF DIALOGUE

@fellandfeathers: "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Dean had joked about Aziraphale's apparent reluctance to get his hands dirty, saying something along the lines of 'You're an angel, right? Aren't you supposed to be all smiting and burning bushes? Instead, you're running a bookshop and sipping tea?'.

His tone had been half-mocking, half-exasperated, and he was met with a calm and ever-so-slightly condescending response, which made his lips curl into a slight, lopsided grin.

"Well, I guess I just ain't used to seeing an angel more concerned with tea 'n crumpets than kicking a demon's ass."

Dean's tone is dripping with sarcasm. He's seen all sorts of things in his life—demons, monsters, the works. But an angel who looks like she's straight out of a Jane Austen novel? That's new.

Dean pushes off the wall, his demeanor shifting from defensive to curious. 

"But hey, whatever floats your celestial boat. Just seems to me like y'might be missin' the whole point of bein' a warrior of God, y'know?"

He crosses his arms over his chest, his leather jacket creaking with the movement. 

"Or is that just another bedtime story, like the one 'bout Gabriel kicking Lucifer's ass outta Heaven?"

[taylortots-world]

Enjoy The Silence

Summary: You and Dean are both possessed. The two of you learn very quickly that demons crave more than just souls and killing sprees.

Warnings:(18+)(minors dni!) smut- you know the drill ;)slight begging, pet names,

Note: Thank you all for showing my last post so much love. It means a lot to me. Feel free to like or reblog if you enjoy, thanks! :)

Dean and I just finished slaughtering a handful of people who got in our way. I looked over at Dean. He just got sexier and sexier. A shit-eating smirk grew on his blood splattered face as he ran his tongue across his teeth.

“That was fun.” I said, stepping over one of the bodies. Dean and I now stood side by side, staring down at our victims. Dean hummed in approval as he wiped his blade clean.

“It was. Though, I have something that’d be a lot more fun in mind.” He gripped my jaw, jerking my head to face him. He blinked, his eyes now jet black.

A smirk grew on my face as I copied his action, showing off my own eyes. I stepped closer to him, my chin still tilted up to look at him. “And what would that be?” I asked with a smirk, my core already heating.

He lowered his mouth to my ear, his stubble gently tickling me. “Oh I think you know babe.”

Without another word, I planted my hands on his shoulders and hoisted myself up. My legs wrapped securely around his waist. His large, calloused hands quickly found my ass as he held me in place.

I quickly lowered my mouth to his, kissing him roughly. Dean occasionally nipped at my bottom lip.

Our tongues fought for dominance as he carried me into his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He threw me down on the bed, his eyes never leaving mine. I watched as he began undoing his belt buckle, his eyes burning into mine. I could’ve sworn his eyes darkened even more as I began to shed out of my own clothes, keeping my bottom lip stuck between my teeth.

“Too slow.” He growled as he tugged at my pants, ripping them in half. I could care less at this moment. I kicked the shredded fabric away, tugging him in by the collar of his shirt.

Our mouths moved quickly against each other, his tongue plunging past my lips. He sat back, straddling my thighs as he ripped his shirt open. Buttons hitting the walls and floor.

I ran my hands down his toned chest. His hands slid up my thighs, stopping at my breasts. He tugged the bra cups down, grabbing at and massaging my breasts. I moaned as his mouth found my right nipple. I tightly squeezed my thighs together as he began to roll my nipple between his teeth.

I couldn't help but squirm underneath his touch. It was no longer a want- but a need. His rans slid up my back, stopping to swiftly undo the hooks of my bra. I lifted my arms, quickly tossing the bra aside. An even more mischievous smirk appeared on his face.

"I need to taste you." He growled as he began to leave a trail of wet, sloppy kisses down to the waistband of my panties. He gripped me by the ankles, propping my legs up. I pinched and twisted my nipples as I watched him force my legs open. He was taking his sweet time, and it was killing me. He lowered his face between my thighs, kissing and sucking the flesh all around where I wanted him most. My hips bucked, I was growing impatient.

"Let me have my fun sweetheart." He purred, pressing a kiss against the wet spot that continued to grow on my panties. "Dean-" "Use your words baby. What do you want?" I felt him smirking against me, his lips still kissing my inner thigh. "Please taste me. I need you to taste me."

His mouth was hovering over my core again, breathing his hot breath on it. My back arched off the bed, thrusting my peaked nipples in the air. "Please." I begged once more. "I love hearing you beg." He spoke as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of my panties, tugging them down. He waisted no time, burying his face in my soaked pussy.

I moaned as his tongue swiftly moved in and out of me, his nose pressed against my clit. "Oh fuck." I moaned out once more, speaking in a breathy tone. He raised his head, some of my wetness spread across his chin. "You taste delicious." He continued to stare up at me before sliding two fingers in. My back arched off the bed once more, that familiar feeling building in my stomach. My pussy clenched around his fingers, warning him that I was close.

He withdrew his fingers from me, sucking my juices off of his fingers. "I wanna feel you come around my cock baby. Get on all fours." I nodded, flipping over to my hands and knees. I swayed my ass, making sure to show off every curve of myself as he quickly finished undressing himself.

The bed dipped down as he knelt behind me, pumping his cock. He let a droplet of spit fall onto his shaft before giving himself a few more good pumps. Without another word, he thrust into me. I was extremely wet so he slid in no problem. My eyes rolled back, my hand fisting some of the duvet beneath us. The both of us moaned as he continued to pound into me. The room was filled with sounds of panting, moaning, and his skin slapping against mine as he fucked me. "Fuck baby- I'm gonna come." I moaned out, causing him to pick up his speed. I saw white. I came, and I came hard. My throbbing walls clenching around his thick cock, my face and chest flushed. I slightly twitched as he continued to fuck me at a fast pace. I could tell that he was close.

He moaned loudly as he pushed his cock in as far as it was go, hot ropes of come shooting inside of me. I moaned in satisfaction, looking over my shoulder at him. His eyes shut, brows furrowed, slack jaw.

"I'm not done with you yet princess." He grinned, giving my ass a good slap before pulling out.

[spnangelbang]

A preview of... “pass with the winter (come in like the cold)” 

Author: kyra @gay-destiel

Artist: Mörökölli @morokollisyo

Rating: Teen and Up

Archive warnings: Author Chooses Not to Use Archive Warnings

Featured characters: Gabriel, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Dean Winchester, Asmodeus

Featured relationships: Sam Winchester/Gabriel, Dean Winchester/Castiel 

Length:  20,000 words

Tags:  Hurt/Comfort, Demon Gabriel, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Destiel is minor but definitely there and Sam is maybe a little bit fed up with it

Summary:  This time around, when Gabe is taken by Asmodeus, the demon casts a spell and turns Gabriel into a demon. And when the Winchesters start to mess with Asmodeus' supply runs, he sends his best after them.

Excerpt:

Asmodeus turns slightly to face a smaller entrance to the throne room, beckoning a finger,

“Listen to this.”

A small demon with short black hair and brown eyes steps into the light, trueform slight enough that Gabe’s eyes focus not on the form, but on the vessel. He must be only a recent spawn, young enough not to have risen in the ranks. Gabe wonders, in the back of his mind, how he had gotten an audience with not just Asmodeus, but one of his best warriors too. The demon’s breath is shallow as nervous energy projects off him in waves, and at Asmodeus’ imperious nod, he begins,

“We- we were manning the Lancaster supply route this morning when they busted in. Two hunters and an angel. I was the only one who managed to get away, they killed everyone else. Called themselves ‘Sam’ and ‘Dean’ and ‘Cas’.”

Asmodeus gives Gabe a look, and he makes a face, “Eugh. The Winchesters were hotshots up high. Always meddling in things they had no reason to.”

“So you know them well?”

He shrugs, “I mean, sure. I threw good ol’ Sammy into a hell-loop or a hundred, and Cassy-o was my brother once. So yeah, you could say that.”

Asmodeus dismisses the demon and he slinks away out the side-door. 

The main door was more for dramatic storming in, by the way, while the side-door was for slipping away quietly.

Do you think Gabe spends enough time in the throne room bored shitless? He’s barely ever allowed to kill for Asmodeus there, so the meetings get long and tedious.

“I’m glad you think that.” His Lord’s amused tone pulls him out of his thoughts and back to the present- and fairly important- conversation, “Because you’re going to kill them for me.”

Posting date: February 5, 2025!

[kickingitwithkirk]

Regina Coeli, Regina Infernum-Punishment

Pairing: Boyking!Sam x Reader x KnightofHell!Dean

Word Count: 2025

Warnings: **not a dark fic but has elements.: dub/con-non/con p/v sex, restraints, verbal/fighting, hentai elements

Squares filled: @spnkinkbb RubySam @anyfandomdarkbingo Amputation

A/N: references from Regina Coeli, Regina Infernum

This story set years after stand-alone: Always with the Scissors

The hallway briefly reverberated to the sounds of Zeppelin when a set of heavy, ornate doors opened, admitting the Queen Consort of Hell. 

The sound system cuts off as she crosses the anterior area to the bedchamber, where she flung herself face down onto the oversized bed in frustration.

“Something vexes thee?” The whiskey-roughened voice of the Queen’s fraternal polyandry consort inquired, and she lifted her head, seeing black instead of green eyes.

“I didn’t tell you to stop!” He soundly smacks the naked female demon riding his cock bare thigh, leaving a vivid red handprint, and orders her to turn around.

The Queen Consort shifts to observe the demon, hands bound in a pair of binding cuffs behind her back, awkwardly maneuvering around on the mattress and into reverse cowgirl whimpers. 

“What did I say about no noise!” 

The Knight of Hell’s voice vibrates in staccato and abruptly sits up, grabs his current sex toys braided hair in one hand, yanks the demon into a painful arch while gripping his engorged member, glistening with their combined fluids, and notch his cockhead between her swollen pussylips forcibly slides her back down onto his shaft then shoves her head down to touch the mattress between his bowed legs again reclines in repose against the bed’s pillows.

The demon quietly straightens up and resumes bouncing. 

The Queen watched her consort close his black eyes, breath puffing out from between his slightly parted, succulent lips as his toned muscles flex periodically under the slight softness of his stomach in response to the hot, slick, velvety channel intermittently clenching around him.

The Queen Consort briefly flicked her eyes back to the demon who was striving to hold off orgasming until permitted, closed hers, listening to the rhythmic slapping of flesh on flesh and occasional squelch, felt herself becoming aroused, rubbing her thighs together, desiring friction felt his hand sliding in between, his thick fingers stroking over her mound.

 “I can smell how wet you are,” that made her reopen her eyes, watching his shift to their sultry chartreuse. “I wanna taste your sweetness,” Dean runs his tongue slowly over his plump lips, wetting them to emphasize how much he wants her riding his face. 

The Queen Consort removes the Knights hand, slides off the bed, and exits without a backward glance.

“All right, meetings over..everybody out!” 

Several members of Boykings council jumped in their seats, spinning to see the Knights Of Hell standing in the doorway with black eyes and red flannel-clad arms crossed, conveying he was not joking. 

They nervously turn back to his elegantly dressed brother seated at the head of the table, reading the document in his hands.

 “We are in the middle of something. Whatever it is can wait.”

“No.”

The Boyking’s kaleidoscope eyes focused on his older sibling. 

Dean could be a pain in the ass on a good day, but today wasn’t a good day, and Sam was not in the mood to deal with him.

“What was that you said?”

“You heard me..”

“..come back later.”

“No.”

Except for the set of his shoulders conveying his annoyance, the Boyking sat expressionless, allowing his vantage point to notice the visible outline of his brother's substantial cock straining against the jeans material. He was now curious as to why.

“Fine, state your business.” 

“That’s the problem.”

“What problem?”

“Family Business.”

The Boyking blinked, not following his knight's train of thought. What did Family Business have to do with this?

 “Dean, I don’t have time to decipher your nonsense.”

The Knight walked to the table, placing his hands on the edge and leaning forward, “Fallen can into my room.”

“Dean.”

 “Where I was breaking in my latest toy..”

“..Dean.”

 “Turned down fun time, and we both know how much Fallen loves..”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, DEAN!!!” 

Sam’s eyes transformed into glistening onyx as his chair flew backward, shattering upon the stone wall in a fury created by his brothers' flagrant disregard of his mandate that what happened in private stayed private, mimics Dean's stance.

The council members didn’t so much as twitch an eyelash, knowing that drawing either Winchester's attention would result in their demise. They were finally ordered to leave and, as silently as possible, gathered their items and escaped the oncoming storm.

“Crowley,” the former King of Hell stops, “finish going over those details we discussed, and any discrepancies you find, notify me immediately.” 

“Of course, Sam,” the contract-savvy demon replied, smirking, “Squirrel,” and departs.

“Now that you have my undivided attention, we’ll finish this discussion privately.” Pushing off the table, Sam walked passed his brother, knowing he’d follow.

The word spread fast among the Citadels residents when there was trouble between the Winchesters, not a damned soul was to be found in its vast hallways. 

Dean threw himself on the oversized leather couch as Sam crossed to a tall cabinet pressing on an ornately carved panel, opened a hidden compartment, pulled out a crystal decanter, and, after pouring two fingers of a liquid into a matching tumbler, moved to stand before the lit fireplace still fuming. 

“You interrupted a congress that has been in progress since I acquired my Consort.”

Dean gets up, “I don’t think our Consort, the Queen Of Heaven, Hell, and Earth, would appreciate being referred to as acquired like one of those goddamn dusty tomes you still collect.” Snatching the glass from his brother swallows half its contents in one go.

 “And for the record, you got to give her a name, not me. So as I see it, since she favors both of us in sexual congress, I’m entitled to call her whatever I want.” 

“You named her after a fucking Jessica Drake porno!”

“You know Jessica Drake’s stuff?” 

“You damn well know I watch porn too!” Sam huffed, “figured you’d pick something more like what was her name? The one you nailed from those Casa Erotica videos.”

Dean bites on his full bottom lip remembering the Good Faith Church’s APU chastity counselor Suzy Lee and ex-porn star Carmelita.

“Even if Y/N permits it, it still doesn’t give you the right to call her that publicly.”

Dean smirked, “So what’s it to be, Sammy? Cutting out my tongue or,” running a finger across his throat, making a wet noise.

“One day, I might have to.”

That stopped the smartass retort forming on the Knights lips watched Sam's broad shoulders sag before softly inquiring, “Remember how I was before her?”

Dean threw back the rest of the drink, recollecting his brothers' suffering.

Their existence in the Underlands progressed from months to years to decades; they found the Knight couldn’t replenish his superior blood fast enough, forcing Sam too, once again, resort to feeding from inferior demons during the in-between times. 

Dean even briefly flirted with bringing Ruby back from the Empty for his brothers' exclusive use in whatever manner of choosing but scrapped the idea after observing Sam’s increased feeding leading to his excessive overindulgence in pussy and, much to his displeasure, others' cocks. 

It began a cycle of spiraling the Boyking into physical pain and melancholy and knowing Ruby, the demon, would manipulate him for gains like before.

 “Yeah, Sammy, I remember,” he replies in such a quiet tone his brother pauses before switching back to the initial reason his anger kindled.

 “I guess I can’t keep this a secret from you anymore. That meeting you interrupted was the latest counsel referendum about options to fortify our defenses.”

“Fortifi..what the fucks going on, Sam?”

“Cas received a message from Joshua warning Heaven's incursion is imminent.”

“We have an ironclad deal with those dicks to stay outta each other's realms!”

“When we were in that prison realm, Y/N indicated there was a chance that the Angels would interpret removing her as a sign.”

“A sign of what?”

 “God wants her restored upon all the thrones.” 

 “You brought her here knowing that and said nothing?!”  Dean twists his free hand into his short hair, a leftover trait from his human days, indicating he’s freaking the fuck out. 

“That wasn’t a referendum, Sam, it was a Greek Referendum…and you’re taking the rest of us down with you!!” He barked in a tone that once would have brought his kid brother to a heel then Dean's expression shifted to trepidation.

 “Did Joshua say how much time we have before those dicks attack?” The Boyking started to divulge when, “Holdup, did he say anything about Chuck coming back?”

“Chuck never left, and some time ago, someone resumed publishing his new writing...” 

“All this goddamn time, you knew and said nothing!” Dean's eyes flared black and threw the empty tumbler into the fireplace hearth, followed by a swing toward Sam's jaw, but it ended up quashed when a sensation flairs deep within, doubling the Knight over, and falls to his knees. 

“You never learn.” 

Dean peered up as Sam loomed over him with his imposing stature, and his eyes changed, not into the common onyx or the occasional yellow, denoting his actual status.

Instead, they transitioned into an ethereal luminosity. 

“You’ve gotten away with things not because you’re a Knight of Hell but my brother,” Sam sighed, “but today you undermined my authority in front of the entire counsel because you never could shut the fuck up!”

The Boykings' attention transferred as the Queen Consort entered the chambers and glanced at the kneeling Knight moves to stand beside Sam, tipped her head back eyes fixated on him. 

Sam cups his Consorts jaw, and leaned over, gently kissing her before responding to her inquiry, “Yes, it’s time.”  

Y/N walked backward, motioning for Sam to follow began removing her clothes, and smiled as he stripped off his jacket and began unbuttoning the shirt. 

“Dean, do you remember the last time we punished you for insubordination?" Sam glanced back and saw his brother's cock once again straining against the material of his jeans. "How we bound you, used you as nothing but a toy for our pleasure? Then Y/N inserted something that kept you orgasming.” 

Dean closed his eyes at the memories and felt the sensation that’d dropped him morph into that long-ago pleasure. Groaning, he groped for the zipper and, in frustration, ripped his jeans open, freeing his turgid cock starts stripping wire.

“Guess you’ve figured out she didn’t remove it,” Dean's eyes snapped open and saw Sam, lying naked on an oversized chaise chair with Y/N leaning back on his chest, legs splayed over his playing with her dripping pussy, stripped his cock faster, “Or what it's intended for.” 

Pausing his self-pleasure watched his brothers vast hands wrap around his consorts' hips and her face contorts into painful pleasure as he roughly fucks his substantial cock into her cunt repeatedly, using her as nothing more than a fleshlight rasped...

“If you’d have just done as asked Dean, freely consume her grace, wouldn’t have had to resort to this.”

The Knight's hand froze as his brother's words penetrated his pleasure-clouded mind, “What’d you do?”

“It’s the only way to get you to join us.” 

The Knight, hearing the Consorts ethereal voice after years of silence, watched her double-tap Sam’s hand, and he slowed his thrusting into a gentle rolling motion. 

“That drink was..wasn’t only alcohol,” she stumbled over her words as the Boykings' long fingers teased her clit, keeping her on edge, “infused with my grace to act..activate the Ovi in you...”

“THE WHAT IN ME?!”

”You inspired the idea, your erotic anime thing, which led her into hentai,” Sam says, “and Plan B.”

“Plan B?”

“That Ovi she implanted contains an undiluted dose of her grace,” Sam sighed, ”If you’d only supped from each other, it would’ve been...”

“Would’ve been what, Sammy?”

“When the casing finish’s deteriorating, your body will absorb her Grace which won’t be pleasant, be far worse than the Demon Curing Ritual.” His brothers' countenance pitched darker than the Empty, “But I’ll do anything to keep those feathery dicks outta here.” 

The Boyking snapped his fingers, and a clear, squishy orb encapsulated the Knight felt his consorts' confusion answers..

“You’re the one who inquired about vores.”

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva  @b3autyfuldisast3r @lassie-bird @nancymcl  @spnbaby-67  @leigh70

Sam/Jared:  @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen:  @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @akshi8278  @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl @siospins2

[hellsrebellion]

'Stay.'

It wasn't a command. And Roman was once again reminded that this version of Camilla both confused and terrified him. Rather than demanding with harshness, it's a gentle plea within her soft voice. Had there been some sort of domineering tone to it, he might've just offered some muttered excuse as to why he needed to go.

He was busy-- and he didn't necessarily need rest or sleep like she did. It was optional; although his meat suit certainly would've appreciated it. Not that there was anyone in there with needs, he'd made sure of that. It had been more on the front of selfishness than him having some 'sanctity of human life' bullshit.

'You can pretend and act like you're so different from the others, but how good can you be? You're holding someone hostage inside their own body right now, you're no better.' Roman still remembered a time not too long ago when she'd looked at him with disgust and voiced her disdain for him.

Her words like daggers, sharp with the intention to cut him up.

"Meat suit was already dead." He'd retorted flatly, turning back to face her after nearly leaving Singer's because he 'didn't need this shit'. Not knowing why he even felt the need to whip around explaining himself to her- as if he needed to. He could've just left despite the tether, then it would've been on her to call him back if she wanted to continue throwing verbal punches. Remind him of what he was, the hatred she harbored toward him. "Gunshot victim.. he'd already been beamed up, Scotty…he'd flatlined, they called time- lights out. There ain't nobody in here with me." His words had been spit with the same amount of venom, "So.. got anything else you wanna reem me for.. or we done for now?"

At the time, Roman had just accepted they'd never be able to see beyond black eyes and soullessness-- she'd always circle right back around to what he was despite his intentions. When Camilla had been of her own judgement Roman remembered her trying to reason with the Winchesters and Singer that he'd gain nothing from lying to them about what he knew. She hadn't known he'd been listening, but he had. As long as she had Dean in her's, that animosity would remain.. they were the only family that she had left. She'd never do anything to compromise that.. especially side with a demon.

"Look--we don't gotta get along, don't even gotta speak to one another 'less we have to. I'm just intel, can leave all the personal shit out of the equation.. I tell you what I know, you do with that information what you will. Call me here, just make sure it's need-to-know basis.. Dean can bottle his noise up 'til this is over and take me out for what Azazel did to his family after- we all got bigger problems right now."

It hadn't been some lifetime ago-- they'd still only known one another for a few months now. Which is why it was unnerving how quickly she'd become something.. important to him. He did care what she thought of him, had wanted her trust and that sense of longing he'd been grappling with never faded out, it only grew the longer he was around her.

Roman's expression softens on her in slight at the singular word, shifting his weight in his worn combats as those doe eyes search his own. He swallows and nods, barely detectable.

"Alright.." he says quietly to her, his low and deep voice in that uncharacteristically gentle tone- the one he only ever held with her when she got like this. Confusing, infuritating.. he didn't know which it was more of anymore.

Once again he just finds himself full of excuses. They were states away from the Winchesters, Bobby, Ellen, that weapon stash, her books.. anything she had that could've protected her or evened the odds should anyone downstairs have caught wind that she was alone in the city, and taken their chances trying to catch her off guard.

He had to stay.. to keep her safe.

But deep down, he knows better. Those hex bags kept her invisible-- nobody had any idea where she was; wouldn't have been able to sniff her out if they tried and at the moment Caim and the others' priorities were more focused on the bigger picture. As satisfying as it would've been to take the last remaining Remington out for them, they wouldn't be seeking her out. The only thing that was keeping him in that hotel room with her was his desire to be there.

She'd just handed the excuse to him, by asking for him to stay.

Roman's dark orbs linger down on her when he goes to pass by, his shoulder brushing against her own as he strides over to one of the beds to sit down on the foot of it with an exhale. Unsure of what to do then. It would've been less uncomfortable gargling holy water than it was trying to do this little song and dance, pretend like what was going on wasn't going on.

"Should've picked up some cards.. or.. Monopoly or somethin'.." he finally mumbles, sniffing and lifting his gaze to her. His head of unruly hair shakes once as his gaze flicks away from her again; untrusting that his own eyes wouldn't wander all over her, palms spreading down his thighs as he shifts on the mattress.

And he knew.. of course he fucking knew that she was treading a line seeing if he would finally cross over it. But she was the only thing he was terrified of.. and never for the reasons it would've made sense for him to be. He'd have never given her that knife she had tucked away in her bag if that were the case. It would be more likely Hell froze over before he ever allowed himself to give into the temptation she was offering him. No matter how badly he may have wanted to. The dynamic was already a complicated mess as was.. he couldn't imagine how much more complicated it would be if he did.

'You're walking a very dangerous path, Roman.' Jericho's words echo in his mind with warning. God knew he was.

"Can't help but keep wonderin'.." he finally starts again, any sense of amusement he'd held before drained from his voice entirely as his dark orbs stay planted on the warped wooden floor of that seedy hotel room. "..once this ends.. however it does.." he pauses in thought, his gaze finally lifting in search of her.

"..say we kill Lilith- Caim.. stop the domino effect should they start breakin' these seals. Lucifer never pops the cage.. or the war happens, and humanity wins.." he lists through scenarios, shrugging at her a bit as his gaze lingers up at her and shifts.

"You ain't the only hunter, Camilla.." he says finally, a warning in his tone- a knowing one. "Dean.. I don't know any way of savin' him.. even if that's the case, there's just as many hunters like Dean out there as there are like you, like Sam.." he explains in an even tone, swallowing as he stares up at her from the end of the bed.

" ..once the behemoth is out the way.. we both know who the targets are gonna be and other hunters aren't gonna be so understandin' that we ain't all the same." He exhales slowly as he watches her, nodding and dropping his gaze again.

He didn't know what he was looking for. Typically it was her looking to him for reassurance and he wasn't even sure that's what this was. More that he was just explaining a valid reason as to why he wouldn't even let himself get close to her- not any closer than he already was. Ever since Jericho jumping down his throat over his priorities it had turned into Roman just.. scrapbooking moments he'd had with her, the seed already having been planted that there was as much an inevitability here as there was with Dean's clock ticking, as there was with this little pissing contest between Hell and the Heavens. And to Roman that inevitability was only going to be harder if he allowed himself to let her in anymore than she already was…

"Likelihood is I'm gonna have to disappear.. once this is over." he says finally, his tone lowering as he swallows again. Not wanting to look up at her again for fear of what he'd find there. The worst part was that it didn't matter if any line was crossed or not. Camilla had crept into that godforsaken organ in his chest like a thief in the night and he already knew that he wouldn't be the same afterward. She'd made him feel the closest to human as he'd ever get again.

He didn't know if that was better, or worse in the end of things.'

[leahseclipse]

Happy Anniversary, Cas.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Castiel

Summary: “I didn’t think it would be so important to you two. No one has done this for me before.”

Warnings: Slight spoilers for 4x1

Word count: 500

A/N: Happy 15th anniversary, Cas!!!!!!!!!

Under the starry sky, Castiel stood outside of the Bunker, watching over the stars he’s known for over two thousand years, having found a sudden interest in watching them from this angle, from so far away. He’s always been beside them and even contributed to their own creation, but it just felt special to him, at this exact moment. 

It felt nice to appreciate something, not worrying about anything. Just being in the moment. Him and the whole universe. 

And Dean. He felt him arrive before he could even announce himself.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel said, hearing Dean muster up a ‘damn it’ as he walked up to stand next to him, at his left.

“I’m never gonna be able to show up without you knowing I’m coming, am I?” Dean looked at him, his face painted with an emotion between annoyance and sadness.

“Probably never, yes.” he said, lowering his head to glance at him. “But I will, though.”

“Believe me, I know. I’ve woken up to you standing right next to my bed way too many times.”

“I didn’t know I had to announce myself differently.” Castiel looked away shyly. 

“Well, it was all you, no one did it like you did. Except demons.” Dean’s tone dropped to a grim one at the last word.

“At least my presence meant good news.” It brought a smile to his lips, saying this.

“That it did.” 

“I’ll try not to surprise you too much in the future, I count on you to keep living for a long time.”

“Sweetheart you won’t get rid of me that easily, I’ve been through worse.” he stated, making Castiel smile brighter at the nickname. These feelings never stopped being overwhelming, in such an extraordinary way. “Hey, why don’t you… Why don’t we come inside for a moment? There’s something I’d like you to see.” Dean extended his hand to him.

“Of course.” Castiel took it without hesitation, following behind him as they descended the steps leading down the entrance of the bunker. He could hear another heartbeat as the door opened. He guessed it was probably Sam.

As soon as the library came into view, Castiel made note of the new additions in the room. A few candles evenly spread on the tables, and a single garland with small lights was tied at the entrance. A few balloons were tied to the wall and what seemed like sandwiches were also on the table. Sam was standing by one of the tables, hands behind his back.

“Is it supposed to be what you call… a birthday? If so, for who is it?” Castiel asked. He didn’t have a single clue as to what was going on. 

“Well, it isn’t officially your birthday, more like… the anniversary of our first meeting.”

“You kept note of it?”

“Well, it also happened to be the day I came back, there was this journal with a date at the top. September 18, 2008. So, I remembered the day you appeared too, naturally. It wasn’t the most friendly first meeting, but still. You became important for us.”

“I didn’t think it would be so important to you two. No one has done this for me before.”

“Well, we did this to show you that you matter to us.” Sam stated. 

“I see. We should celebrate Dean as well, then.”

“It is my resurection slash back from hell day after all, so... yeah.

"Alright. Let's do these anniversaries, then."