#reader inse

Dean and Sam stand in silence, staring at me with wide pleading eyes, looking as if their hearts have been ripped out of their chest and stomped on. 

Sam’s brows furrow and lips press into a thin line. He stares into the distance, eyes flicking back and forth as he replays the words over and over in his head.

Dean on the other hand stands still as a statue. The only movement is that of his jaw grinding and his fist tightening and loosening repeatedly, itching to punch something, or rather, someone. No matter how much he tries to remain stoic, seemingly unbothered, I can read him from a mile away and all that I see is grief and betrayal. 

Castiel stares down at his feet, shoulders slumped, looking disappointed, but not entirely surprised.

A pain radiates off of them in waves that set the room in an abysmal darkness.

I would give anything for the world to swallow me whole right now, put all this miserable business to rest. No matter how hard I try to do the right thing, I always manage to hurt someone I care about in the process. 

Maybe that’s just who I am, the girl that destroys everything she touches. Perhaps, Lucifer and I aren’t so different after all.

“Y/N, no,” Sam says in a stern voice, shaking his head in denial.

I avert his gaze, a burning feeling of guilt growing rapidly in my gut. I can feel his disappointing stare burning a hole through my head.

“This isn’t right,” Dean says, grabbing my arm in a desperate attempt to get to me. “Please just come home with me, it’s not too late to change your mind.” His eyes fill with tears ready to spill any moment. “Please,” he pleads, his breaths coming in heavy and uneven.

“I’m sorry Dean.” I place a soft kiss on his cheek, it tastes salty and metallic from the tears and blood that muddle together on his face. I take his hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze, longing to feel his touch one final time.

He closes his eyes, tears breaking free and streaming down his cheeks.

I can’t help the tears that begin to prick my eyes as well. I knew this moment was coming, but I didn’t know it would be so hard.

“I’m so incredibly thankful for our time together,” I say to him. “And everything you all have done for me.” I turn to look at Sam and Cas. 

They stare back at me somberly, Sam giving a curt nod, but quickly looking away in an attempt to keep his composure.

“Dean, I love you and I always will, but you have to let me go,” I say with a heavy heart, tenderly pulling my hand away.

He can’t find the words to say it, but with the look he gives me, I can see that he loves me too.

 I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. Perhaps a bit of both.

I make my way back to Lucifer, looking up at his stunning crimson eyes.

He tilts his head and stares back at me with a look of pure adoration and love that I can feel deep inside me.

“Every moment of my life has led to you, and I'm done fighting it,” I admit. “I’m yours,” I whisper, placing my hand on his chest.

“I knew you’d  make the right choice, my beloved,” Lucifer coo’s. He wraps his silky wings around me and pulls me into a loving kiss, pulling away after a few seconds to give the others a look that says, ‘I win’.

“Sorry boys, the angels made her choice.” He gives them a cocky grin and snaps his fingers. 

The three of them are gone in the blink of an eye, leaving just Lucifer and I in the place we call home. The room is trashed from the fight. Shards of broken glass litter the floor, busted furniture strewn around the room, and splatters of blood painting the walls, a grizzly reminder of what had happened here tonight, a memory that will be burned into my mind for the rest of my eternal life.

“What did you do to them?” I snap at him in anger, tired of him hurting my boys.

“Relax, they’re fine,” he insists in a snarky tone. “They’re still in rural Ohio. We’re the ones who’ve moved.”

I make my way to the hole in the wall that once held our front door, it now sits splintered in pieces on the floor. 

Lucifer follows close behind. 

Stepping outside, I find myself on an empty beach, seemingly untouched by mankind, its natural beauty perfectly preserved. The golden sand sinks beneath my shoes, seashells and tumbled rocks sprinkled all around. The water is a stunning aqua blue with gentle waves of white foam lapping over the calm waters. The sun sets above it all, the reflection of the pinky orange skies painted over the water on the ocean, taking my breath away. This place brings me a sense of peace that makes me want to melt into it all, becoming one with the land.

“What is this place?” I ask, closing my eyes and breathing in the crisp salty air, listening to the waves crash and sea birds sing.

“Somewhere along the coast of South Africa,” he replies, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at me, seemingly not talking about the view at all.

“It’s perfect,” I whisper, meeting his gaze with an adoring smile.

“I’m glad you like it, but it’s only temporary,” he replies, fixing his gaze on the setting sun upon the horizon. “I’ve got bigger plans for us.”

“Bigger plans?” I question, taking his hand in mine.

“Of course,” he says as if it’s obvious. “We have an eternity together, the world is our oyster,” he smiles.

“Right,” I nod my head, warming up to the idea of spending the rest of my life with Lucifer, my angel. “Where do we start?” I look at him quizzingly.

“How about here?” he says, pulling me close and crashing our lips together. It’s soft and tender. The electric feeling of our graces blend together, becoming as calm as the ocean waves.

He catches me off guard by sweeping me off my feet and carrying me bridal style. I don’t protest. Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder, allowing him to carry me back to our bedroom with ease.

He throws me on the bed and passionately captures me in a kiss. His lips move hungrily against mine, our teeth, tongues, and lips hastily crashing against one another, but we’re too infatuated to care. His cold hand snakes up my body, leaving chills and goosebumps in their wake. It slides under the thin fabric of my shirt until he reaches my breast and tentatively palms me through my bra. 

My breath hitches at the feeling of his large hands kneading at my sensitive flesh.

 He presses his body firmly against mine, his aching erection in his jeans rubs against my inner thigh, so close to where I need him, yet, so far. His touch becomes more frenzied, trailing to other parts of my body with fervor. Frustrated with the multiple layers of clothes that separate us, he lets out a low growl and snaps his fingers, leaving us both completely naked and pressing against one another. The contrast of his cool skin against mine sends pleasant chills down my spine.

Despite his scruffy looks on the outside, he’s surprisingly muscular under all that clothes. The pale skin of his body perfectly compliments the gold and white tones of his feathers, making him look more ethereal than ever. 

 It’s my understanding that this isn’t his true form. That he’s simply occupying a human vessel. But there’s no doubt that the vessel he chose is certainly well endowed, to the extent it’s rather intimidating.

“L-lucifer!” I yelp, suddenly feeling all too exposed.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he gives me a wicked smile and licks a long stripe up my neck with his forked tongue. 

I lean my head back into the pillow, my body aching with need and my worries fading to black. 

He finds a certain spot on the base of my neck that makes me whine from the sensitivity. He smirks. This is exactly what he was looking for. He bites down hard, his pointy teeth breaking my soft skin with ease.

“Fuck,” I hiss, trying to wiggle away from the sensation. My brain has gone offline, unsure whether it hurts too much or if it feels so good I crave more. Ultimately, I give into the latter, craning my neck to the side to give him better access.

He happily obliges, lightly kissing my neck around the bite where drops of crimson roll down to my collarbone. He peeks his forked tongue out of his teeth, then licks all of the blood that dribbles freely, cleaning my skin until all that is left behind is a pinky sheen from his saliva mixed with the remnants of my blood.

Part of me hopes that it will scar.

He lifts his head and captures my lips in a fiery kiss, forcing his tongue into my mouth. His cool tongue swirls around mine forcefully, pinning it down and proving who exactly is in charge here.

I moan as the rich metallic taste of blood dances across my tastebuds, a rush of exhilaration coursing through my veins. 

Once Lucifer is satisfied, he pulls back, his eyes falling to my puffy pink lips, still wet from the saliva of our tongues clashing together. He quickly makes his way down to my breasts, pulling at my nipples until they’re perky, leaving sloppy kisses and light bites on each one of them. He continues to work his way down until he reaches my thighs, masterfully kneading my flesh in his hands.

“Say the words and I’ll stop,” Lucifer says in full seriousness. “Or, submit to me and I’ll show you what it’s like to be taken by the most powerful archangel.” A smile tugs at his lips as he gazes at me with dark lustful eyes.

I return his gaze and give him a nod. “Please,” is all I can manage to say, my mind clouded with lust.

He wastes no time and wraps his forearms against my thighs, pulling me closer so that I may not wiggle away.

 I’m left totally and completely at his mercy.

He wets his lips with his long forked tongue, making me wetter at just the sight and dives in. 

I whine as his tongue slowly and lightly drags from just above my clit, all the way down to my aching hole, teasing my body ever so slightly. My hips involuntarily arch off the bed, desperate to feel more.

He doesn’t take kindly to my squirming and slams my hips down onto the mattress, pinning me in place with one of his strong forearms, the other wrapping around my neck and squeezing slightly. He’s very careful not to hurt me. If he wished too, he could snap my neck like a twig, right here, right now. Instead, he squeezes just light enough to restrict my oxygen and make my head go fuzzy, but still allow me to breathe.

His tongue runs circles over my clit, sending wave after wave of arousal to my core. I can practically feel myself dripping onto the satin sheets of our bed. Each split end of his tongue explores both sides of me at once, driving me crazy in ways I can’t explain, and he’s clearly enjoying the power he has over me, how he can make me into a mess with such ease.

“Luce, Luuuuuce,” I whine desperately, barely able to recognise my own voice. I squeeze down around nothing, my body craving to be filled by Lucifer in any way possible. I just need something.

Of course he picks up on this, exploiting our connection, and knows just what to do. His cold tingly grace creeps up sound my thighs and probes at my entrance.

My eyes snap open and meet his, glowing with passion.

He smirks and his grace slowly pushes into me inch by inch until I'm completely filled to the brim, rubbing against all the sensitive spots that make my mind go blank.

“Oh, fuck!” I yell, clamping down around the feeling, every nerve in my body tingling with pure pleasure and anticipation.

‘Shhh,” he coo’s, watching me intently like I'm some wounded animal in a nature documentary, and he’s the prey playing with his food before he strikes. He pulls his grace out slightly before thrusting back in, earning a deep moan from me. Experimentally, his graces pulses and thrusts in an unpredictable rhythm, leaving me completely unprepared for whatever pleasure he wishes to give me. His tongue returns to my clit, passionately swirling around sending shiver after shiver of arousal through my core.

“Luce, please! I’m gonna!” I moan, my body writhing beneath his tongue and grace. I teeter on the edge of orgasm as he takes my clit fully into his mouth and lightly sucks. “YES!” I scream, ready to let go at any second.

He pulls away with a devious smile before I’m able to fall over the edge.

“NO!” I plead with wide eyes, my body shaking in frustration as the most promising orgasm of my life was ripped away. 

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk,” he clicks his tongue in a mocking tone. “You’ve been a bad girl today, don’t you think? Running back to the Winchesters, putting yourself in danger,” he says in a voice that parodies concern.

“I’m- I’m sorry Luce, please!” I beg for his forgiveness, giving him the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.

“Hmm…” he says, putting his finger up to his lip and looking at the ceiling, pretending to be lost in thought. “How about this, you be a good girl for me, you don’t cum without my permission, and i’ll think about letting you cum when i’m satisfied with you.”

Before I'm able to form words, he flips me over so that I'm on my knees and forearms, face pressed against the pillow, and my body on full display for him. His rough fingers trails between my wings, down my spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake until he reaches my butt. 

I hum in appreciation, trying to show my agreement with the plan.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Lucifer taunts. He lands a hard smack on my ass, surely leaving a red handprint in its place.

“Yes Luce!” I squeak, trying to keep my body still for him.

“Good girl,” he praises, striking another smack on my other cheek.

I whimper in response, my eyes glazing over with tears of pain and pleasure.

He makes his way down to my pussy, spreading it open to really admire it. “Of all my fathers creations, you, my dear, are by far the most beautiful.”

My heart swoons at his words.

Once he’s had his share, he runs his fingers over my pussy, gathering up my slick. “All of this because of me, love?” he teases. “You really are a dirty girl.” He plunges two fingers deep inside me, twisting and thrusting perfectly.

A series of moans fall from my mouth that I barely even register. It’s like my mind has gone blank and my body is completely fuzzy in the most pleasant way. Nothing else matters right now. Just Lucifer. Just me. I’m easily able to hold myself from falling off the edge until he reaches a certain spot.

“Ah!” I cry out as his fingers brush against my G-spot ever so slightly. My hips buck against his fingers, my back arching, and my wings stretching out to their full extent. I don’t have to see him to know he has that signature smirk as he watches me moan and writhe from just his fingers.

He finds that angle again and rubs over the spongy spot repeatedly, each time applying more pressure.

I grip the sheets in my hands, my knuckles completely white from gripping it so hard. I clench my muscles and close my eyes, focusing with all of my strength not to come right then and there. “Fuck! I’m gonna!” I warn, trying desperately to fight back the feeling.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum without my permission,” he hisses, grabbing a fistfull of my hair and yanking my head back, his fingers picking up their pace.

Not wanting to feel the wrath of Satan from breaking his rules, I hold back, my whole body shaking with anticipation and overwhelming pleasure. 

After what feels like an eternity, he finally removes his fingers, leaving my walls clutching around nothing.

I whine, both frustrated that I didn’t get to cum and happy that I didn’t cum without his permission,

“Good girl,” he praises, running his fingers through my silky wings in a pleasurable way. “I think you’ve earned your reward.” 

Without even a warning, he flips me onto my back and slams into me, burying his cock all the way to the hilt.

“Oh God! Feels so good!” I cry out, savoring the pain and pleasure that his thick cock provides me..

“My father has nothing to do with this,” he growls, pulling out almost all the way. “This. is. all. me,” he says, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust. “You will be praying to me from now on, do you understand?” His eyes glow red with passion and a drive for power.

“Yes, Lucifer! Anything for you,” I scream, thrusting my hips up to meet his with each stroke.

“You’re mine. All mine. A divine gift from Heaven just for me. My soulmate.” he growls, his pace picking up. 

I can feel my orgasm building as each stroke is angled just perfectly to rub against that amazing spot. My grace burns hotter and hotter by the second, reaching out to his cold one, desperate to feel them dance together once again.

He plays my body like a fine tuned instrument, and he’s putting on a symphony. 

“Yell my name, tell the world who you belong to, Y/N,” he demands with a particularly harsh stroke that sends shocks of electricity up my spine.

“LUCIFER! I BELONG TO YOU LUCIFER! NO ONE ELSE!” I scream, my throat dry from all the yelling and panting.

“Good girl,” he praises, bringing me into a passionate kiss. His grace tangles with mine, the perfect contrast in feeling bringing me to the edge, taking everything in me not to give myself over to the promising orgasm that calls my name. 

He’s close too, I can sense it.

“Cum for me beloved,” he says in a soft voice. He stares intently in my eyes, gripping my wings and twisting the feathers in the way he knows will drive me crazy.

The dam finally breaks and my orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave that pulls me under the water, drowning me in pleasure. My grace explodes outward as he does the same. The lights flicker and the room shakes, both of our eyes glowing a dazzling red. Our grace’s coil together, the electric feeling buzzing from our head to toes. This time when it settles, it doesn’t feel like two separate entities. Instead, it’s like two ends of a wire touching to complete a circuit. it finally feels whole.

Collapsing on top of me, he rolls us to our side and pulls me against his chest, gently running his fingers through my wings. He cuddles me close, holding my head to his chest as we bathe in the afterglow. I listen to his heart beating, enjoying the hum of our graces in harmony, and match my breath to his steady breathing. Everything just feels so right. 

How could I ever deny him again? He completes me. We complete each other.

“Y/N?” he asks, pulling me out of my peaceful daze.

“Hm?”

“Don’t ever leave me again,” he says in a calm but possessive voice. “Promise me that, beloved.” He wraps his wings around us like a protective cocoon, his soft feathers pleasantly grazing my bare skin.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I nuzzle my face into his chest, finding comfort in the warmth of his glowing skin. “I promise,” I assure him, closing my eyes in relaxation.

“Good,” he sighs, allowing himself to relax again.

“...I see through it all, you know,” I say, catching him slightly off guard in the sudden change of subject. “You pretend to be this evil wrathful archangel, but you’re not.”

He quietly scoffs at the notion.

“You’re just hurting. Everyone you've ever cared about has left you. Your father. Your brothers. But not me. Even the Devil deserves love. You deserve to be loved, Luce, and I'm going to be the first to show you that.”

He looks at me surprised, never having heard such kind words before. “I love you Y/N,” he says, pulling me closer.

“I love you too Luce.”

For a moment we both sit in comfortable silence. 

He stares at the ceiling, like he’s mustering up the courage to say something that’s heavy on his mind. He breaks the silence with a sigh. “I was going to give you more time to adjust, but I just can’t wait anymore.” His eyes meet mine, lighting up with anticipation. “Tomorrow we return to Hell where you will rule by my side.”

“I’m sorry, WHAT?” I snap, sitting up and looking at him with wide eyes, mouth falling agape.

“Well, I’m the King of Hell -new and improved- and naturally, that makes you my Queen,” he says in a tone way too nonchalant for the news he just dropped on me. He smiles, finding my reaction rather amusing.

I think for a moment, sitting in shock. The Queen of Hell? I’m just a girl. I don’t know the first thing about royalty, let alone ruling the forces of Hell. A thousand thoughts run across my mind at once. I ponder the idea for a moment before giving in.

“I accept.”

“Really?” He asks, clearly not expecting that answer.

“Under one condition.”

“Go on…” He says, eagerly waiting to see where I'm taking this.

“You have to stop hurting my people on earth, including the Winchesters. These are my people and I’m going to protect them for as long as I'm kicking.” I lift my head up with determination, ready to fight tooth and nail for my cause.

“A diplomat already? you’ll make a great leader,” he says with a cocky smile. He thinks for a moment and nods. “I accept.”

And with that it’s decided, for better or worse, tomorrow I become royalty.

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

“So this is Hell?” I ask skeptically, my eyes wandering as we make our way down the winding hall toward a set of large golden doors.

“Part of it, yes.” He walks with one hand in his pocket, the other around my arm.

“It’s not exactly what I was expecting.”

Lucifer glances at me with a cocked eyebrow. “And what exactly were you expecting?”

“I mean, where's all the fire and demons with pitchforks? Shouldn’t there be a lot more screaming?”

Lucifer laughs. “Bit outdated, don't you think?” He chuckles. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the theatrics of traditional torture, but there’s other ways to torment people. We like to keep it creative.” He flashes me crazy eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to the doors we’re rapidly approaching.

“Right…” I chuckle awkwardly, still a bit freaked out about being in Hell of all places. Compared to the demons and sinners that reside here, a goody two-shoes like me sticks out like a sore thumb. I can’t help but feel like an imposter.

“Here we are,” Lucifer says, stopping at the heavy golden doors. Two demons dressed in high end suits stand tall at the doors, holding it open for the both of us and averting their eyes out of respect, or maybe fear.

“Wow,” is all I can say as I enter the room. 

The walls go as far up as the eye can see, each section illuminated by stained glass windows with the depiction of Hell's greatest hits - many of which starring Lucifer himself, no doubt to please his ego. 

Red light pours through the windows, bathing the room below in a colorful wash of crimson. The walls and floor are made of black obsidian blocks, streaks of red marble decorating them like a battle of bloodshed had just occurred. 

Half a dozen demons stand post on either side of the room, so still that they could be mistaken for statues. 

And in the middle of it all is an intimidatingly large throne made of pure gold, sculpted to resemble an army of snakes standing high above the room.

“This is incredible, Luce,” I say, turning on my heels to look around in wonder.

“Oh, my love, this is just the beginning, I have so much to show you.”

My eyes light up. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

“Buuut, we can start with this,” he motions to a section of the throne room that stands out from the rest.

Along the interior walls is an open room designed specifically for me. There are large bookshelves that tower at least 10 feet in the air with the library of books he had accumulated at the house, my favorite books organized in alphabetical order, as well as a large red velvet chair to read them in. 

Hundreds of records line the walls, each of them an album that I've enjoyed at one time or another, some that I'd even forgotten about, accompanied by an old fashioned record player playing a classic that I've listened to a hundred times over; “I came back to let you know, got a thing for you and I can’t let go.” I hum along to the music, swaying my hips ever so slightly as I explore the rest of the area.

Most surprisingly, is a shelf dedicated to hundreds of trinkets from throughout my life. The seashells I collected on my road trip through the west coast. A little clay bird I sculpted as a child and gifted to my mother. The floral porcelain teacup I drank out of religiously as I studied for finals. And even the diamond ring that’s been in my family for ages.

“How- how did you get all this?,” I ask, my eyes sweeping over everything, discovering new clever details and secrets.

“I have my ways,” he says ominously. “I knew you’d like it.” He smiles, puffing his wings out in pride. He takes my hand and guides me to the towering throne. He takes a seat, propping himself in a pose that demands respect, and pulls me onto his lap with ease.

I relax against him, resting my head on his shoulder and crossing my legs. I run my hand over his fingers, mindlessly toying with them as I find myself lost in thought.

“This is so much better with you here. It just feels right,” he says with a satisfied sigh, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer to his chest.

“Yeah, surprisingly, it does.” 

“Makes you wonder if this was God’s plan all along?” He smirks. “That old bastard finally did something right.”

“He does work in mysterious ways,” I chuckle, having that lesson slammed in my face over the past few months of my life. I snuggle into his chest with little care for what the demons may think, it would be a deathwish for them to even look my way without permission.

“This calls for a celebratory drink, don’t you think?” He winks. Putting his fingers up to his mouth, he whistles so loud that it leaves my ears ringing.

After a few moments a stocky man begrudgingly walks into the room carrying a tray of drinks. He has short dark hair and well groomed facial hair that suits his jaw nicely. He wears an all black suit with a gray tie and a look on his face that screams ‘I’d rather be anywhere but here’. He stops in front of the throne, squinting his eyes and sending Lucifer a glare that could kill, but he doesn’t dare step out of line.

Lucifer beckons with two fingers, motioning for the man to step closer and hand out the two fancy glasses of amber liquid.

He clenches his jaw, but reluctantly hands Lucifer his drink. His face is flushed a light shade of red, practically fuming with anger and humiliation. 

“Good puppy,” Lucifer snarks with a devious smile.

The man looks like he’s fighting the urge to strangle Lucifer with his bare hands but decides against it, as anyone who values their life would. He hands me my glass with less anger, looking more intrigued with me than anything. 

“Thank you…?” I give him a questioning look, waiting for him to introduce himself.

“Crowley,” he states, straightening his posture and giving me an enchanting look. “At your service, my dear.” He takes my hand and lightly kisses the back of it. There’s a sort of charm to him I can’t explain.

I smile back politely, happy that I may have a new friend in this dreary place.

“That’s enough of that,” Lucifer sighs, and with the flick of his wrist the man goes flying across the room, hitting the wall with a loud smack. Blood drips from the back of his head, but it doesn’t seem to phase him much.

“Lucifer!” I scold him, lightly hitting him on the chest.

“Don’t mind him, he’s still in training.” He rolls his eyes and continues our conversation like he hadn’t just hurled someone across the room. 

“This is too us.” He lifts his glass in a toast. “To eternity.”

“To eternity,” I repeat, clinking our glasses together with a smile.

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“I did.” I swallow down the growing uneasiness in my stomach. “I want to make a deal.”

“A deal with the Devil?” He tilts his head, evidently amused. “How cliché. Go on,” he beckons.

“I know what you plan to do to the Winchesters.” I furrow my brows, keeping my anger and disgust in check. “I know what you’re doing to Cas.”

He crosses his arms, his face hard and unreadable, and waits for me to continue.

“Take me instead.”

Surprise paints his face that quickly morphs into delight.

 This is what he’s wanted from the beginning, to own me like I'm some toy for him to play with at his leisure. If I play my cards right, no one else will ever suffer at his hands again and I can begin to undo just a bit of the damage I've caused.

“If you let them go and promise not to hurt them… I’m all yours,” I sigh. “No running. No fighting. I am truly and indefinitely yours”. I stare at him with wide eyes and a truthful look that portrays just how serious I am.

“Interesting.” He looks up, tapping a finger to his lips, thinking for a moment. “You got yourself a deal.” His eyes light up with intrigue, glowing a dark red color.

A wave of relief flows through me and with a ruffle of feathers, my wings relax from their tense position. I force myself to ignore the pang of uncertainty building in my stomach.

“Shall we seal it with a kiss, my love?” He smiles deviously, his face barely an inch from mine.

 I can feel his warm breath on my face which surprisingly smells like he had just finished chewing cool spearmint gum. I reluctantly nod, willing to do anything for the boys I consider family. I lean in close, the familiar static buzz building between us.

Without a second of hesitation, Lucifer crashes his lips into mine.

I falter for a moment, frozen in place, but something inside me ignites like a fire and I melt into the kiss. 

His cracked lips move in sync with my soft ones, creating a wonderful contrast in sensations. He opens his mouth slightly, quietly asking for permission to explore.

 I oblige, opening my mouth, allowing him access to all of me.

 His forked tongue clashes against mine, our tastes delightfully mingling together. What starts off as playful and soft, quickly turns rough and passionate. Our tongues fight for dominance, but I quickly lose the battle and submit to his will, something about it just feels so right. He tangles his hand in my hair, lightly pulling my head back by the roots just to prove who's really in control here. 

I can’t help the small whimper that escapes my lips that beckons a satisfying grin from him.

His other hand snakes around me, finding the small of my back and pulling our bodies flush against one another. The flight feathers of his large white wings caress my sides. If I wasn’t so distracted, I may have found it ticklish.

The passion grows to new heights, the soft spark of electricity turning into an intense flame freely flowing to my core. A mix of cold and warm sensation dance where our bodies meet. The room melts around us like a beautiful chalk mural washing away in the rain, until Lucifer and I are all that’s left in the comforting darkness.

After what feels like hours, he pulls away, biting my bottom lip for good measure, leaving a warm metallic taste in my mouth. “Mm, you taste better than I imagined,” he beams, licking the saliva off his bottom lip with a satisfied grin.

My face flushes a bright red, my dilated pupils fixed on his gorgeous face, surprised by how much I enjoyed that.

“We have so much to do,” he coos, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. He takes my hand in his and pulls me along the house I had grown familiar with in my initial stay not so long ago. 

The walls are mostly black with golden trim, the designs reminiscent of the Victorian era. The red satin chairs and couches complement the cherry wood of the rest of the furniture perfectly. There is no overhead lighting, instead the house is illuminated by the crackling fireplace and the towering stained glass windows that brings a sense of life to this otherwise intimidating mansion. Each room is covered in one of a kind classical paintings, such as The Two Angels, by Raphael and The Persistence of Memory, by Salvador Dali. These were some of my favorite pieces that I had learned about in my college art history class, surely them being here is no coincidence, and I have no doubt in my mind that he had found a way to get ahold of the originals.

A sense of urgency snaps me out of my thoughts as I remember the task at hand. “Wait, Luce.” I dig my heels into the wooden floor, stopping him in his tracks.

He smiles at the nickname and raises his brow in question.

“I need to see him first.” A sad look dawns on my face. “I made a promise that he would make it home safe”.

“You don’t trust me,” he says in an annoyed tone.

“You did kidnap me,” I remind him.

“Fair point,” he says amused. “I’m a man of my word, but if you insist.” He bows ever so slightly and gestures to a hallway that I have yet to explore.

I step ahead, hesitantly walking down the dark hallway, only illuminated by a few small torches that cling to the wall. It seems to go on forever, like one continuous tunnel with no end in sight. This part of the house has a much darker aura to it. Instead of the classy wallpaper and décor, the walls are made of crumbling cobblestone with twisting vines emerging from the cracks and holes. The temperature is different from the rest of the house, noticeably a few degrees colder. There are dozens of eerie doors on either side, bound to hold endless mysteries. Each one is made from different materials, none of which look inviting by any sense of the word.

His hand rests on the small of my back, leading me to the room at the very end of the hall.

 I approach the old metal door, adorned with orange rust and clumps of dirt. It looks like the kind of door you’d find an old abandoned warehouse that’s withstood the rain for decades. I take in a deep breath and tuck my petite wings behind my back, preparing myself for the horrible scene that lies ahead. With renewed determination, I turn the rusty knob and push the door open with a long ominous creak.

My heart sinks as my eyes fall onto Castiel's bloodied, broken form, tied to a chair, surrounded by a ring of holy fire. He’s covered head to toe with blood. Red blotches stain his shirt and tie, and slashes ruin his signature trenchcoat. His head hangs low, eyes closed, looking defeated and exhausted.

“Cas…” my voice breaks. I can’t imagine the full extent of what horrors he’s been through in the last 24 hours.

His head perks up, recognizing my voice. His deep blue eyes meet mine. The usual seriousness and composure that he always wears, now replaced with a mix of surprise and relief.

“Y/N!” He exclaims.

I step closer until I'm just out of reach of the warm flames licking my boots. I place my hand on his stubbly cheek, rubbing my thumb across his tattered skin. Patches of dried blood flake off and leave a brownish crimson stain on my fingers.

He looks back and forth between Lucifer and I, searching for some sort of explanation. His eyes widen in horror as realization dawns on him, all signs of relief vanishing in an instant. “What did you do?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. He pulls desperately against the restraints that confine him to the chair, but even with his celestial strength, they don’t budge.

“I did what I had to,” I say with a soft smile, hiding the pain of knowing this is the last time I’ll ever see the angel I've grown so fond of.

“No…” he looks at me with pleading eyes.

I nod, tears welling in my eyes, threatening to spring free any moment. My wings wrap around me, in a subconscious effort to provide comfort. “You would’ve done the same for me.”

Lucifer clears his throat, attracting my attention. I drop the hand that caresses his cheek, already missing the feel of his warmth.

Castiel’s eyes stay fixed on me.

“How touching, you should really put that on a Hallmark card,” he teases.

I shoot him a look that could kill a man, completely unamused with his tasteless jokes.

“Well this has been a lovely reunion, but a promise is a promise.” He raises his left hand, pressing his thumb and middle finger together.

“NO!” Castiel yells, giving me one last panicked glance.

Lucifer snaps his fingers and the room turns white for a moment. The fire roars, reaching the ceiling and leaving little black scorch marks in a perfect circle. The flames calm down to embers, before fading completely and reveal an empty chair where my favorite angel once sat. 

And just like that, the last of my life with the Winchesters is gone forever, slipping through my fingers like sand.

I slowly turn back to Lucifer, my watery eyes meeting his, surprised to find a hint of pity in them.

He crosses the room and pulls me into a warm embrace, kissing the top of my head.

I don’t fight it.

“For what it’s worth,” he whispers into my hair, “I am sorry.” he pets my wings in a soothing manner, sending chills down my spine.

I lean my head against his chest, placing my hand on his sternum. I sniffle and pull myself together, accepting that this is my life now and I better make the best of it.

Pulling back from his hug, I remove my hand from his chest and notice the red sticky fluid clinging to my palm. I step back and inspect his towering form. He's covered in crimson splatter from head to toe, even his wings are stained. I try not to think too hard about where it came from.

“You look like shit,” I chuckle.

He scoffs, probably not used to being insulted in a way that doesn’t end with him snapping someone's neck, but quickly gets over it.

 “Let's get you cleaned up.” I grab his calloused hand, intertwining our fingers and pull him along behind me. I hurry down the long hallway, hoping to shake the ominous feeling that resides here and navigate my way back to the bedroom.

This room was initially my prison not so long ago. Despite the beauty and the effort that Lucifer put into making it comfortable for me, I still feel a twinge of resentment. It’s still my prison in a way, but can I really call it that if I chose to be here of my own free will?

I make my way to the bathroom, clearly remembering the luxurious bathtub in the center of the room, although at the time, luxurious isn’t the word I would use, probably more akin to suffocating. 

I release his hand and shake off the unpleasant memories. Kneeling on the tile floor, I turn the knobs and the water pours out of the golden faucet. I’ve always found the sound of running water peaceful, it reminds me of the days I spent with my feet in the creek when I was young, a simpler time. I run my fingers under the stream, tinkering with the temperature until it’s a satisfying warmth. Using the bottle of bubble bath that he had acquired just for me, I squirt a generous amount under the stream, watching the fluffy bubbles form on the surface like a thick blanket. The heavenly scent of lavender fills the room, lulling me into a sense of relaxation.

Lucifer leans against the white tile wall, arms crossed and eyes fixed on me, quietly admiring me from afar. “You know, if you wanted to see me naked, you could just ask,” he jokes.

I don’t need to turn around to know that he’s got his signature smirk on display. “Don’t flatter yourself, you look a mess.” I roll my eyes, biting back laughter.

He chuckles, taking off his green button up, followed by his tattered beige t-shirt. It pools in a pile around his feet.

Satisfied with the level of water filling the bath, I turn the knob off and stand to my feet, drying the water off my hands onto my flannel.

“Okay, it’s ready.” I turn to see him undressing himself, not an ounce of shame in sight. I clumsily turn on my heels, facing away from him, trying profusely to hide the bright shade of pink that blooms on my cheeks.

“Like what you see?” He chuckles.

Although I’d never admit it, I can’t deny how beautiful he truly is. I wonder if he is just as stunning in his true form. What would an angel even look like? Would it be all wings and eyes like the bible says, or more of a glowing ball of celestial light like Castiel had suggested?

Lucifer steps into the water, the bubbles running up to his chest, covering everything below. He tucks his wings behind him, having trouble fitting his large wingspan into the grandiose tub.

Once I hear the sound of water settling I turn around to see him grinning at me. I give him a polite smile and return to my spot kneeling at the side of the bath.

He doesn’t take his eyes off me for even a second. “I’ve never bathed like this before, but I must say I understand the appeal now.”

“Yeah, it’s nice. One of the many perks of humanity.”

“Humanity,” he says bitterly.

“You know, it’s not so bad, I’m sure you would change your mind if you just gave us a chance,” I snap back defensively. I squirt a generous amount of the floral purple shampoo in my hands, rubbing them together until it bubbles.

“Hardly.” He rolls his eyes. “You’re the only human I could ever tolerate.”

“Not so human anymore,” I sigh.

“You’ll learn to love it.”

I run my soapy fingers through his hair, massaging the roots to really coat each strand. The white bubbles turn a light shade of pink, removing the blood caked in.

“Hmm,” he hums in delight.

“I think you’re maybe liking this too much.” I raise a brow in suspicion, but don’t stop.

“Is that a crime?” He asks.

“It should be,” I quip. Cupping handfuls of water, I rinse the shampoo from his hair,  careful not to get any in his stunning red eyes.

He looks at me in adoration. 

Grabbing the body wash, I pour some onto my hands and repeat the process of turning it into a bubbly froth. I start with his shoulders, scrubbing the dirt and blood that cakes his skin until it glistened. 

His shoulders relax, his toned muscles releasing the tension that built up over thousands of years in a cage. He practically melts under my touch.

I move onto his arms and abdomen, stopping right where the bubbles from the bath lie, not prepared for that level of intimacy. All that remains now is his face. His stupid, perfect face.

He looks me in the eyes, studying my every feature as I bring my soft soapy fingers to his cheeks.

Carefully, I remove all the blood and dirt caked on his skin with gentle touches until his face looks as beautiful as the day I met him. I didn’t see it then, how stunning he truly is, but it’s something I can no longer deny. “Lean forward,” I demand.

“Hey, I’m the one that should be giving orders around here,” he teases, but complies, giving me access to his broad wings.

“Unlikely,” I reply. With a little more soap, I cautiously run my fingers along the top of his wings.

Lucifer hisses quietly, his wings stretching out as far as the bath will allow.

“Shit, did I hurt you?” I pull back immediately, shifting my weight onto my heels.

“No, no, please keep going,” he assures me, flashing me a convincing smile and relaxing his wings.

I nod, and return my hands to the same spot, massaging from the top of his wing to the end of his white feathers that glisten a royal gold under the soapy water. They are incredibly soft, softer than any silk in the whole world.

He moans softly, unable to hide how much he enjoys it.

I look at him quizzically, but continue cleaning them.

“They’re just really sensitive, but not in a bad way,” he says.

“I know the feeling,” I scoff, recalling the times I’ve touched my own wings.

“I’m sure you do.” He smiles, admiring the tiny wings by my sides.

I fold them neatly behind my back, hiding them as much as I can. I’m not someone that gets insecure easily, but I can’t help but feel inferior comparing my petite wings to his intimidating wingspan.

“I’ve never actually let anyone else touch my wings before,” he admits sheepishly.

“Really? I'm surprised. I assumed the devil has lots of demons lining up to please him,” I reply. I can’t stop the pang of jealousy in my stomach from picturing it.

He laughs, shaking his head no. “You’re different, you know,” he says softly, reaching a hand up to caress my cheek.

The Winchesters, Castiel, Christianity, they all make the Devil out to be some cold hearted villain. And maybe that’s true, but not with me. I see who he truly is, just a confused boy that’s desperate to feel loved for once in his life.

“Thank you Luce,” I blush. Finishing up his wings, I push myself up from my spot, resting my hands on the tub. I wipe my hair out of my face with the back of my hand, leaving suds of soap behind.

Lucifer smiles at this.

“Let me go grab you a towel.” I turn to leave the room.

“No need.” With a snap of his fingers, the bath is empty, he’s fully clothed and his hair, feathers, and skin are bone dry, as if he was never in the bath at all. He stands just a few inches away.

“You could’ve done that the whole time?” I snap, annoyed that I had just put all that effort into something that was completely unnecessary. 

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that.” He smirks. He steps even closer, looking down upon me until our noses touch.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re annoying?” I pout.

“Ouch, Y/N, you’ve wound me,” he replies sarcastically, dramatically grasping his chest as if he were having a heart attack.

“What else can you do with that angel mojo?” I cross my arms, leaning my weight onto one hip.

“Oh honey, you have no idea,” he whispers.

“Enlighten me.” I raise an eyebrow, keeping my gaze strong.

Lucifer lightly presses his forefingers to my temples and a surge of pleasant electricity flows through me.

 I feel a cold coil intimately wrap around my core, clashing with the heat inside me. My vision morphs into a bright white light. It isn’t unbearably blinding, but rather comforting and peaceful. The world spins and the sound of thunder clapping fills the room. I feel an overwhelming rush of euphoria lighting up every nerve, better than any drug they sell on the street, it's like all of my worries melt away and all that’s left is peace.

His fingers pull away from my forehead and he wraps his arms around me to keep me steady as my vision returns and I come crashing back down to reality.

“What. The. Fuck,” I pant, still feeling a lingering high.

“Not so bad, right?” He jests.

“You’ve got to teach me how to do that!” I playfully shove him on the shoulder.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” he pats my hair, “I’ll teach you all that and more.”

Perhaps this won’t be so bad after all, I smile to myself.

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Sighing, I turn my attention back to the task at hand, rereading my favorite cheesy romance novel for the 14th time, never growing tired of it. I lose myself in the story of a girl from the city running into a creature of the night. She starts out frightened of the vampire, scared of what she’s capable of, but learns to see through her tough shell and love the woman beneath the fangs and mystery. I hum quietly, chewing on a strand of hair as I meticulously scan every word on the page, despite having them memorized already.

“I’m so booored,” Lucifer whines, stepping out of the shadows and leaning over the tall satin chair I reside in.

“And what would you like me to do about that?” I keep my eyes fixed on the book, not sparing him even a passing glance, but I can still feel him pouting behind me.

“Let’s go do something,” he suggests, leaning down to wrap his arms around my chest.

“Like what?” I gaze at him from the corner of my eye.

He gestures out the window, wordlessly planting the idea of going outside.

“It’s raining Luce.” I put my book down to look at him, giving him the attention he so badly craves.

“You say that like it's a problem.” He grins, holding me even tighter.

Without a moment to think, the world spins once again and I find myself in a completely different location. I grab onto his arms to hold myself up, my knees ready to buckle under my weight at any second. I keep my eyes scrunched closed until the dizziness wears off and the world feels stable.

“You have to stop doing that!” I growl, shoving him with annoyance, but he doesn’t even budge. Fully preparing myself for the torrential downpour of rain, I instinctively fold my wings over my head to provide what little shelter I can, but nothing comes. 

He rolls his eyes, then looks at me eagerly like he’s waiting for my reaction.

The sound of birds chirping draws my attention and I lower my wings to take in my surroundings. I find myself in a stunning garden that goes on as far as the eye can see, unlike anything I've ever experienced. The world is painted vibrant shades of greens, blues and pinks, the color so intense that it feels like I'm looking through an enhanced filter. The sky, a pale blue with dozens of fluffy clouds and a shining rainbow.

The grass is perfectly manicured with little drops of dew from the rain clinging to each blade. Little bee’s buzz in harmony, hard at work pollinating each wildflower sprung from the ground.

 A little stream runs down the hills, twisting and winding for miles. The water is so clear that you can see each tumbled rock fitting together like pieces of a puzzle. The sound of water rapidly flowing fills the air and perched on mossy rocks along the bank are little green and brown frogs, lounging without a care in the world. 

Hundreds of cherry blossoms fill the orchard in full bloom, the fragrant aroma taking over my senses. But in the middle of it all is one tree that looms taller than the rest. It's old, dating back at least a century. The branches twist and turn, similar to the body of a snake. And hanging from the lowest branch is one bright, shiny red apple.

“Where the fuck am I?” I ask, feeling a sense of confusion and wonder.

“It’s a garden I made for you.”

I slowly spin on my heels, admiring the beauty around me. He’s thoughtfully selected all of my favorite flowers, each one bringing back a distinct, pleasant memory. It takes my breath away.

He nervously rubs the back of his neck, suddenly feeling self conscious.  “Maybe it’s a bit mu-”

“No!” I interrupt him, “It’s beautiful.” I smile.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says, his doubt melting away in a matter of seconds, replaced by pride. His wings perk up and a satisfied grin tugs at his lips. “Come,” he grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers and pulling me along. 

The soft grass squishes beneath my boots as I follow close behind, a soft breeze flows through my hair.

He stops us at the apple tree that stands next to the creek, and sitting in its shade is a checkered red blanket, and a woven picnic basket. It’s like a scene out of a fairy tale.

“A picnic?” I raise my brow skeptically. I never imagined Lucifer to be the picnicking type.

He sits down on the blanket and pats it twice, gesturing for me to sit by his side. 

I perch down next to him, tucking my wings behind my back and our knees touch ever so slightly. Just that one innocent little touch feels so intimate. 

He pulls out two fancy crystal glasses, dipping them into the creek by our side and filling them with the clear water.

“Creek water? I think I'll pass,” I scoff.

He looks at me amused, like he knows something I don’t. With a snap of his fingers, the water turns into a rich amber color I could recognise anywhere. He hands me the glass with a pleased smirk.

“Cool party trick.” I admire the glass in amazement. “Taking notes from The Bible, are we?” I tease.

“Please,” he scoffs. “That dickwad learned it from me.”

I chuckle at the thought. I take a sip and my eyes light up as the familiar taste of Jack Daniels Whiskey burns my throat. “Mmm… You remembered,” I smile.

“I always do.” He wraps his wing around my shoulders.

“Lucifer?” I ask, nervously toying with his mesmerizing flight feathers.

“Hm?”

“Why am I here? I mean, why me? What makes me so special?” I scooch closer, patiently waiting for his answer.

“Because.” He effortlessly pulls me into his lap, wrapping his broad arms around me, “You’re my soulmate.”

“What?” My eyes widen and snap up to meet his.

“You were made for me Y/N,” he coos, holding my chin in his hand. His eyes lovingly gaze into mine. “A gift from my dad, a little peace offering of sorts.”

“That’s not possible…” I shake my head, unable to process the information being thrown at me. My hands shake, a myriad of thoughts and emotions bouncing around my brain.

“You feel the connection between us, the force that pulls us together, even when we're apart. The way our lives have always led to this moment.” He places a soft kiss on my cheek.

I sit in silence, stunned.

“You know it to be true,” he whispers in my ear.

“I don’t understand,” I murmur.

“Why do you think you dream of me every night? We’re bonded together, our fates intertwined for the rest of time.” He caresses my cheek ever so slightly.

“Luce…” my voice quivers.

“You feel that?” He asks, pulling me into his chest and I can feel the buzz of electricity stronger than ever.

“There’s a reason I shared my grace with you,” his cold tingly grace intertwines with mine that burns hot, creating a pleasant mix of sensations.

I stare up at him, too shocked to even blink. I’m finally getting the answers I so desperately craved, but nothing could have prepared me for this.

“Human lives are so fleeting and the thought of being without you ever again kills me,” his voice breaks, emotions getting the best of him. 

“We’re destined to be together,” he pauses, “forever.”

The words play over in my head countless times, struggling to form some kind of response. 

Images of my time with Dean flash across my mind, the way he held me when I needed him the most, the nights he slept by my side and held me dear, and the yearning I feel whenever I think of him. I can’t stop the feeling of guilt that burns in my stomach, like I’m betraying him, despite never even discussing any sort of relationship. I have feelings for Dean, that I'm certain of. But I can’t deny the chemistry I feel with Lucifer, the way every moment together feels so natural. 

“This is a lot to take in Luce.” I rest my head against his shoulder, feeling conflicted and overwhelmed.

“I know love.” He places a kiss on the top of my head. “Take your time, we have an eternity awaiting us.”

I nod my head and take a long swig of whiskey until the glass is nearly empty. The alcohol always did help me think. We sit in comfortable silence for what must’ve been hours. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of the birds chirping and water flowing, my breathing becoming steadier. The warmth of the sun shines on my face, lulling me into a sense of relaxation. I mindlessly curl up in his lap and snuggle into his chest as the peaceful hands of sleep pull me close. The last thing I can remember is the feeling of his large silky wings wrapping around us providing me a sense of safety. And just like that, I drift off into peaceful dreams.



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“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” He shakes with anger.

Lucifer shakes his head and laughs like Dean had just told him the funniest joke.

“Sammy…” Dean whispers, unable to peel his eyes away from his mutilated brother. Tears stream down his cheeks, a look of horror and sadness pains his face.

“Now,” Lucifer steps over Sam with complete disregard for what he’s done. “you won't be getting off so easily.” He stops, just inches away from his face.

“I know what you’ve been doing with my lover,” he growls, his irises glowing their intimidating red color. He caresses his cheek with the knife, just teasing the skin.

“Did you think you could get away with it?” He presses the blade just above his cheekbone, leaving a deep gash.

Dean grits his teeth, refusing to show his pain to Lucifer.

“Did you really think she could ever love someone like you?” Lucifer seethes, his face twisting with anger. “She is mine!” He growls. His hand flys up to grasp Dean’s neck, squeezing with an unrelenting force.

Dean desperately gasps for air, his eyes bulging and face turns a cherry red. “FUCK… YOU!” He chokes out, spitting directly in his face.

Lucifer growls and wipes the spit from his face in disgust. Without a second thought, he plunges the blade deep into his chest, taking pleasure in the gush of blood splattering his face.

Dean lets out a strangled scream that’s cut off by him choking on his own blood. His eyes widen with horror before going slack. His head drops forward and his body hangs limply.

“Pity, the game was over so fast.” Lucifer frowns. He releases his hold on Dean and his body slumps to the ground, twisting in grotesque ways. He crouches to his knees, looming over the bloody scene. “But it was fun while it lasted.” He smiles, admiring the gruesome scene he created.

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“NO!” I shot up in my bed, screaming at the top of my lungs. Unrelenting tears stream down my face to the point my vision is completely blurred. My chest becomes tight, my breathing coming in more shallow until I’m full on hyperventilate. My wings curl around me, shaking.

After what feels like hours, I calm myself down enough to get a grip on reality and swallow down my panic. “They’re not dead. Not yet. I can feel it.” For once, my connection with Lucifer is a blessing rather than a curse. “There’s still time,” I reassure myself, calming my nerves.

Jumping out of bed, I grab the phone that Sam had given me for emergencies and dial his number with shaky hands .

“Pick up dammit. PICK UP!” I curse, pacing back and forth as the phone rings.

“It’s Sam, leave a message,” the answering machine says as if it were taunting me.

“We need to talk, NOW!” I leave a message, before disconnecting. I desperately dial Dean’s number, praying that he will pick up.

“This is Dean’s other, other cell, so you must know what to do.”

“We need to talk immediately! I’m serious, you’re in danger!” I yell into the phone, before disconnecting the call once again.

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6 hours. It’s been 6 fucking hours since I first called. No response. What’s the point of leaving me a number if you wont even pick up the phone.

I twirl the cheap burner phone in my hand, taking another sip of whiskey straight from the bottle. In times like this, I don’t see the point of drinking from a glass, I’d only have to refill it countless times.

I clumsily dial Sam's number again for what must be the hundredth time today. At this point, the sound of his voice on the answering machine practically burned into my brain. 

“It’s Sam, leave a message.” 

“FUCK!” I yell, just barely resisting the urge to smash the phone on the ground to pieces. I down the last of the bottle, still not feeling as drunk as I would like to be.

I can’t stop my brain from running a million miles per minute, replaying the thoughts that have plagued my brain for hours. I’ve considered the possibilities over and over, every single course of action I could possibly take. It all leads to the same conclusion. I know what I must do.

Calling up Dean’s phone for the last time, I pray that he answers. The phone rings and the last bit of hope that I hold onto slips away as the familiar recorded message plays.

““This is Dean’s other, other cell, so you must know what to do.”

I sigh and pause for nearly a minute, unsure of what to say, before I bite down my fear and start talking. “Dean, I’m not sure what to say, but I want to leave you one final message. You and Sam are in serious danger. I had a dream that Lucifer kills you both, and I can’t let that happen. I know what I have to do,” I pause for a second. “I’m going to give myself over to Lucifer in exchange for your lives. I’ll ensure Castiel gets home too. This is my mess and I have to be the one to clean it up.” I fall silent, choking back the tears that threaten to spill. 

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I’m sorry it ends like this. I’m sorry for everything. I’m just… I’m so sorry Dean. I wish we never got into that stupid fight, I wish I could've told you how much I care about you, how you make me feel things I can’t explain.”

“Tell Sam, thank you for everything,” I sniff.

“I guess this is goodbye Dean, take care.” I end the call, the line goes dead with a long beep. I smash the phone on the ground, broken pieces shooting off in every direction, releasing just a smidge of the pent up frustration that I have been holding onto.

I wipe my eyes and put on my best poker face. I take one last look around at the bunker. It had once been an unfamiliar prison that I was confined to, but now, it’s like the home I’ve always desperately craved. A deep sadness radiates through my core as I give one last goodbye to my home and the only family I've ever had. I find my way to the exit, shutting off the lights and closing the door behind me.

Stepping into the outdoors, the sun shines high above the sky and thick foliage extends around me, as far as the eye can see. The fact that I am really in the middle of nowhere truly sinks in as I take in the world around me. The soft wind blowing in my hair is a feeling I had almost forgotten in my time hidden away in the bunker. The crows in the tall mossy trees caw and the mourning doves coo softly, perhaps the last sign of innocent life I'll see for a long time. 

I close my eyes and pray to the one man that I know is always listening. “Okay Lucifer, come and take me. I’m ready.”

In a matter of seconds, the sound of wings flapping rushes through the wind and Lucifer stands tall before me. He’s covered head to toe in what I can only assume is Cas’s blood.

“Hello my love.” He gives me a cocky, but sweet smile. His eyes gaze into mine with an adoring look. “Just couldn’t resist, huh?” He chuckles. “I always knew you’d come back to me.” He places a hand on the small of my back and in the blink of an eye, the world spins and I’m taken far away from the bunker.

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“I have a lot of enemies.” He grabs my shoulders and looks at me in full seriousness. “Many powerful people that will use you to get to me. But I promise you this, I will never let anyone hurt you. Not now. Not ever,” he explains, confirming my suspicions. 

I have no doubt that’s true. What better way to hurt the Devil than threatening the one thing in this world he loves, his Achilles heel, and God help anyone that dares come between us. But, I suspect he has ulterior motives as well, primarily keeping me from the Winchesters and their pocket angel. I can tell that he’s on edge, always glancing at the door, obsessively checking that each sigil is still intact, just waiting for them to burst in guns blazing.

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The house is secure, located in the middle of nowhere, and sigiled to high Hell. He’s careful. No one knows where we are, not even me. The odds of them ever finding this place are slim to nothing, that is if they’re even looking for me at all. The thought crushes me, feeling as if a little part of me has curled up and died.

I wonder where they are, what they’re doing, which monster they are hunting down this week, but most of all, if they miss me. I know it’s selfish of me to think that way. I put them through Hell, especially Cas, and they’re better off far, far, away from me. 

Nevertheless, I've been practicing the demon exorcism Sam had taught me. I’ve got it down to a T, memorized every word and perfected each pronunciation. I'm ready for any demons that may cross my path. I can just picture the cheery smile on Sam’s face and the way he would squeeze my shoulder to show how proud of me he is.

I’ve even picked up my lessons in Enochian. I doubt Castiel would approve of my methods, but Lucifer has continued where he left off. He was surprised when I asked him, but happy to teach me the basic alphabet and meaning of the simple symbols. I’m still a novice, barely even able to decipher the simplest of writing, but I’m getting better by the day. I dream of seeing Castiel again one day and greeting him in Enochian. The surprised look on his face would be priceless and his kind smile would warm my heart.

Despite the wonderful time I’ve spent with Lucifer, how close we’ve grown, how much I truly adore him now, I miss my family… I miss Dean. The ghost of him lives in my mind. I keep expecting to wake up in the Bunker and see him in the kitchen drinking a beer and going to town on a tower of bacon. I miss his musky cologne and comfy flannels that are way too big for me but feel so right. I miss the way he would hold me at night and whisper that everything will be okay. My heart yearns for him, more than I thought possible. After the way things ended, the big fight that resulted in him storming out, the rage that burned in his eyes, I doubt that he would ever want to see me again. 

“It’s for the best,” I keep reminding myself, trying to quell the feelings that seem to grow stronger with each moment that passes.

Lucifer knows. Despite how hard I try to hide my pain, he’s not oblivious, and the deep connection that we share sure doesn’t help.

“Y/N?” Lucifer asks, hugging me from behind, pulling me to his chest and resting his head on my shoulder like he often does.

“Yes, Luce?” I lean back into his chest.

“Somethings bothering you,” he states matter-of-factly, “talk to me.”

“It’s nothing,” I attempt to ease his suspicion, but it comes out less than convincing.

Uneasy silence hangs in the air as he thinks of what to say.

“Dean could never love you like this, you know.” He gently brushes my hair away from my neck and places a series of soft kisses from my jaw to my shoulder.

I freeze, turning rigid as a board. Hearing those words come from his mouth, it feels like the wind is knocked out of me. “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about Luce,” I laugh nervously, trying to brush off his suspicion. 

“Yes, you do.”

A sinking feeling drops in my stomach, and I close my eyes, preparing myself for where this dangerous conversation may lead. As much as I adore Lucifer, he is anything but predictable.

“A little birdy told me what you and Dean have been up to.” He grits his teeth, trying to control his temper.

“A little birdy being you spying on me?” I bite back defensively.

“Besides the point.” He pulls me in even tighter, perhaps scared that I'll flee at any moment. “I know that you have feelings for that insolent human… I know that you miss him,” he says bitterly, face scrunching up in disdain. “Do you really think he misses you?” He snaps, knowing that it will cut deep.

“Luce…” I whisper, my voice trembling. It’s a thought that’s crossed my mind a million times before, a thought I can’t seem to shake.

“Y/N,” he spins me around to face him, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. His eyes comb over my face like he’s admiring a work of art.

“I’m going to show what it truly means to feel love.” He takes a deep breath. “I promise you that in due time, these feelings you have for that… Winchester,” he says in disgust, “will be a thing of the past. The only person you will crave is me.” He pulls me into a deep and passionate kiss. It’s not angry and possessive like I expected, but rather tender and loving.

I pull away, my lips puffy and cheeks flushed.

“He will never touch you again, do you understand?” He growls, his eyes flash a bright crimson red for a moment, before returning to their usual state. He wraps his magnificent wings around me in a protective manner, the silky feather brushing against my bare arms.

“Yes Luce.” I nod and rest my head against his chest. The sound of his steady heartbeat brings me a sense of peace and safety. Part of me wants to believe him. Part of me wants to forget the feelings I have for Dean Winchester and spend the rest of eternity with the angel fate has decided I’m meant to be with. But the other part of me wants to say, “Fuck fate,” and run into his arms, reuniting with the man I hold so dear. A storm of conflict brews ever stronger inside of me.

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

“I want you to focus, I mean really focus,” Lucifer says, encouraging me.

I hold my hand out in front me, just a few feet away from the fireplace. I can feel the heat licking my palm. I screw my eyes shut and pour all my mental force into the flame that flickers weakly from the charred-up logs. My brows furrow and a bead of sweat runs down my face. I give it my all, but still, nothing comes.

“Ugh! This is useless!” I groan, dropping my hand down by my side in defeat. “Maybe I just don’t have grace abilities like you.” My mood fades from frustration into sadness, wings wilting pathetically.

“You think Rome was built in one day?” He replies sarcastically. “I’ve had millennia to perfect my grace, you just need some more practice.”

I shoot him a dirty look, but eventually nod my head in understanding.

“Now,” he clears his throat and steps closer until his chest is pressed against my back, the tingly feeling returning. “Spread your feet apart.” He kicks my shoes with his boot until they’re about a foot apart in distance, giving me better balance. “Hold your hand out. Stiffen your arm.” He lifts my arm into place, intertwining his fingers in mine and holding my palm forward.

The feeling is comforting, his large hands seem to fit perfectly with mine, the familiar electric feeling pulsing between us.

“Close your eyes,” he calmly instructs.

My eyes flutter closed, this time letting them relax instead of scrunching them up in frustration.

“Take a deep breath and imagine the fire growing clearly in your mind.” He rests his head on my shoulder, grounding me just enough to provide reassurance.

I take a deep breath in through my nose, and out through my mouth, instantly feeling a sense of calm wash over me. I picture the fire burning hot and growing several feet tall, the image in my mind so realistic that it feels like It’s really happening.

There’s a warm tingling sensation that builds in my stomach, growing ever so slightly. My hand shakes as a cold feeling wraps around my core. It’s Lucifer’s grace, a sensation I've grown quite accustomed to. My warm grace tangles with his, dancing in harmony. My grace is much smaller, more submissive to his. His grace is heavier and far more overpowering, like a cold ocean wave that makes my ears ring and blood hum.

“You feel that?” He whispers in my ear, the feeling of our graces merging together pleasantly surges through my body.

“...Yes.” I nod, holding back the groan that threatens to spill from my lips.

“Use it.” He kisses my neck, leaving a playful nip. “I know you can do it.”

His encouragement lights a fire in my stomach, and with renewed determination, I put my full focus into the task at hand.

 The fire roars to life, burning to the top of the fireplace. The flames dance up to the chimney, the smell of crackling wood and thick smoke fills the room. A feeling of power surges through my veins, the rush has me instantly hooked, surely an addiction in the making.

“I did it…” I mutter to myself in shock. “LUCE, I DID IT!” I turn around to face him and my wings flutter in excitement, a happy grin on my face.

“I knew you could, my beloved!” He picks me up with ease and spins me around like I weigh nothing to him. His wings twirl around us, magnificent feathers flowing in the breeze. “I never doubted you for a second.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and stares at me lovingly. “I’m so proud of you.” He places a soft kiss on my lips.

“Mm…” I hum in content, happy that Lucifer, of all people, is proud of me. I melt into the kiss, the rest of the world fading into oblivion. I could stay here forever.

The soft clicks of a lock being picked is covered by the fire that still roars strong behind us and the blood rushing in my ears.

The door bursts open with a loud bang, the splintered wood hanging off the hinges. Light from outside pours into the dimly lit room, illuminating the three figures, their shadows stretching across the floor.

Surprised, I whip my head around to see Dean standing his ground across the room, Sam and Castiel looming behind him, all of them armed with angel blades.

“LET HER GO YOU WINGED BASTARD!” the familiar sound of Dean’s voice booms.  Dean looks pissed, more than I ever could have imagined. This must be what monsters see in their final moments, truthfully, it scares me. His knuckles are white from gripping the blade so hard, ready to spring into action.

“Well, look who’s come to party,” Lucifer teases, holding me closer, surely leaving red marks where his fingers dig into the skin of my arms.

“Dean!” I call out. I never thought I'd see him again and my heart flutters at the sight. They came for me. They actually came for me…

Without giving it a second thought, I break free of Lucifer's grasp and make a beeline towards the Winchesters and their beloved angel, awaiting the feeling of being in their arms once again.

Before I even make it halfway across the room, Lucifer appears in front of me. I bump into his chest, stumbling back onto the floor.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” He shakes his head, giving me a disapproving look and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder like I'm just a child. 

“PUT!... ME!... DOWN!” I demand, pounding my fists against his back. When this has absolutely no effect on him, I run my hands into his feathers and twist, remembering the reactions it elicited from him before. He growls, but refuses to let me down, his grips only growing tighter on me.

“Put the girl down, brother,” Castiel warns, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“Castiel, pleasure to see you again, come back for seconds?” He taunts him with a grin.

Dean takes a step forward, practically fuming.

“Stay!” Lucifer commands me, placing me on the ground behind him. He splays his wings out protectively in front of me, as if I'm the one at risk.

The tension in the room is so thick that you could cut it with a butter knife.

The sound of every window breaking around us, practically makes me jump out of my skin. Shards of glass fly in all directions, one piece just barely missing my face by half an inch. The sky that had been clear just moments ago, is now raining like we’re in the eye of a category five hurricane. Booming claps of thunder fill the room, followed by strikes of lightning that illuminate Lucifer’s wings in the most intimidating way. 

Snapping out of my shocked daze, I completely disregard his command and try to run forward but find that his grace is holding me in place, essentially super gluing my shoes to the floor.

For just a moment, the three boys give each other a knowing look before they all swing into action.

Dean lunges forward, swinging the blade with full force. He aims for Lucifer’s head, but he flawlessly dodges the attack, his eyes flashing red in anger. But this doesn’t deter him, Dean’s unrelenting, like he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life.

Sam keeps himself fixed to the closest wall across the room. He drags the blade across his hand, creating a deep gash in his palm. Blood drips to the floor in abundance, creating a crimson puddle. He dips his finger in the liquid and quickly begins to draw a symbol on the wall with haste. I’ve studied enough to recognize that it’s an Enochian symbol, but I can’t decipher what it means.

Castiel stands a few feet behind Dean, his brow furrowed in concentration. He extends his arm towards Lucifer and his eyes glow a light blue. He chants quietly under his breath, his voice low and steady.

Dean continues his attack on Lucifer. With one precise swing, he slices Lucifer across the face. A cut on his cheekbone forms, blood dribbling from his cheek to his chin. Dean flashes him a cocky smile.

I struggle against his hold with all my strength, desperately trying to pry my shoes from the hardwood floor, but it's ultimately useless. I have no choice but to stand by in horror, watching the scene unfold in front of me with no way to stop it. The only thing worse than being in love with two men, is watching them kill each other right in front of your eyes.

Lucifer reaches up to his cheek, tenderly touching the wound that instantly heals shut with a white shine. He lowers his hand, looking at the blood that coats his fingers in anger.

“You’re gonna regret that,” he growls, lunging at Dean.

“I don't think so brother,” Castiel states, his eyes glowing a bright blue. With the power of his grace, he stops Lucifer in his tracks, forcing him on his knees and keeping him stuck in place.

Dean tilts his head, giving him a look that says, “I win.”

“Hurry Dean, I can’t hold him much longer,” Castiel groans, his body straining to fight off Lucifer’s powerful resistance.

Without a second of hesitation, Dean plunges the blade into Lucifer, his body visibly shaking with adrenaline.

“NO!” I scream out, my wings frilled in panic. With the attack, Lucifer's grip on me breaks and I rush to his side in an instant. I kneel next to him on the ground, lifting his limp head in my hands, his eyes closed and blood dripping from the wound where the angel blade remains buried deep in his flesh. I can feel the hot tears pricking my eyes.

Silence hangs in the air. Dean, Sam, and Cas anxiously waiting to see if they’re plan had really worked. After a few moments pass, they give each other a look of relief and collect themselves.

Their relief is short lived, as he opens his eyes and breaks out of Cas’s hold, more pissed than ever.

“You missed.” He smiles and pulls the blade out from the right side of his chest, dropping it to the ground with a clank, blood splattering the wood. Within seconds the wound is healed shut with a white glow. He stands from his knees and spreads his wings, towering far above the rest of us. “You should really aim for the heart next time.” He grins wide like a Cheshire cat.

All three boys exchange a look that practically screams, “Oh shit.”

With a flick of his wrist, Lucifer throws the three of them against the wall, pinning them in place. They struggle with all their might, but their efforts are essentially useless against his powerful grace. In a fight, archangel always wins.

“Sit, stay awhile.” he teases.

“Lucifer, no,” I beg, just wanting this nightmare to be over.

He wraps his arm around my waist but pays me no mind. He twists his hand into a fist and at once, both of the brothers’ writhe in pain, their body contorting in unnatural angles. 

Dean and Sam groan, their faces twisting up in agony. As if it couldn’t get worse, they start to spit up blood. And not just a little, but a disturbing amount of blood pouring through their lips, staining their skin and clothes a blooming red. The sound of groans and coughing makes me sick to my stomach.

“Lucifer, stop!” I yell in horror. I bunch my hands up in his shirt, desperately trying to snap him out of his fit of rage. I’ve never seen him like this before, but I start to question if those stories about him are actually as true as they say.

“No!” Castiel yells in his gravelly voice, staring at the beloved Winchester brothers squirming next to him.

“Wait your turn, brother.” Lucifer snaps his head in his direction and shifts his hand towards Castiel. A white glow slowly burns inside Cas. It starts low in his chest but builds until the white light shines through his throat and eyes with a deafening ring that continues to grow.

“You really think she loves you? I mean, you?” Lucifer mocks, staring Dean down intently.

Dean tries to speak, but his words are undecipherable through the spluttering blood and groans.

“STOP!!” I pound my fists against Lucifer’s chest so hard that it would surely leave painful bruises on any normal human. But he’s not human, no, he’s the farthest thing from it, an archangel in a savage rage.

He continues his assault, the boy’s looking as if they’re on the brink of death, perhaps they are.

“You promised…” my voice breaks.

This pulls him out of his trance. He stops his brutal attack and turns to me, looking guilty and the slightest bit pained.

“You’re right,” he admits, getting his temper under control. He takes my hand in his and brings them to rest on his cheek, evening out his breath.

The Winchesters gawk at him, as if they can’t believe what they’re seeing. They cough and choke, but the waterfall of blood stops and Castiel ceases the blinding glow.

“You’re scaring me, Luce.” I step closer, my eyes wet with tears.

“Forgive me, love.” he looks at me with loving eyes, the man I love coming back to me, even if it’s just for a moment. He pulls me into a kiss. It’s soft at first, caring and apologetic, but it soon turns deep and possessive. He wraps his wings around me and looks over to Dean, holding eye contact, needing to see his jealous reaction.

“Leave her alone,” he demands in a hoarse voice, his face burning with anger.

I break the kiss with a light shove and look at him, my cheeks burning in shame. I can practically hear his heart breaking into a thousand shards.

“Or what?” Lucifer snaps, “What did you think was going to happen, hm? You’d just storm in here, kill me, and she’d come running back to you like some lovesick puppy?”

Dean musters up the strength to shoot him a look that could kill, but I could see Lucifer’s words were gutting him inside.

“Newsflash kid, Y/N’s my soulmate. We’re meant to be together, it’s our destiny,” he says, pulling me so close that my wings are pressed flat against his chest, wrapping an arm around me to secure my body in place.

Dean’s face becomes somber as he processes the information. I can see the internal debate going on inside of his head, one that I’ve had many times before. 

“Is that true, Y/N?” Sam asks hesitantly.

Cas gives Sam a knowing look.

“Yeah, tell them Y/N.” Lucifer takes my chin between his fingers and forces me to look them in the eyes, unable to escape their awaiting glares, “Is it true?” He mocks.

“...Yes,” I admit, barely a whisper.

Dean’s eyes go wide, tears threatening to spill at any moment. His green irises flick back and forth, desperately scanning my face for any sign that I might be lying, that this is all some part of a masterplan to deceive Lucifer, but finds none.

“I’m sorry,” my voice cracks and I close my eyes in shame, tears streaming down my cheeks. I can feel Lucifer smirking behind me, clearly amused with this turn of events.

The room is quiet for a moment before something in Dean changes. His eyes harden and he lifts his head with a wave of confidence. “Yeah? Well, I say screw destiny. You can shove it up your feathery ass!” He spits in defiance.

“Give it up Dean.” Lucifer rolls his eyes dramatically, “She’s my mate, you can't have her!” He growls, his wings spreading to their full wingspan.

“Lucifer… that’s enough!” I warn, grabbing him by the shoulders, trying to get his attention, but he keeps his eyes glued on Dean.

“No, she’s not! She’s one of us now, she’s a Winchester!” He snaps back.

Hearing those words makes my heart flutter but it sends Lucifer over the edge. His eyes glow a red so bright that I’m sure the color will be burned in the back of my retina for days to come. He balls his hand into a fist and twists it sharply. 

Dean screams as the unmistakable sound of his rib bones crunching and breaking under the angel's grace bounces off the walls, followed by a series of pained whimpers, drowned out by Sam and Cas’s protests. 

“I SAID, ENOUGH!” my voice echoes around the room. With a sudden surge of grace, Lucifer is shoved halfway across the room. Dean, Sam, and Cas are released from his hold, falling to the floor. The storm stops and all is quiet for just a moment.

Dean clutches at his ribs and attempts to stand, but collapses onto the ground in immense pain. Sam and Cas rush to his side and help him to his feet, throwing his arms around each of their shoulders to help him stand. The three of them look at me in shock, Dean seemingly more amazed than the others.

Lucifer, on the other hand, is beaming, clearly impressed with my sudden surge in power. “Look at y-” Lucifer starts with a cocky smile.

“Shut up!” I interrupt him, shooting him a warning look.

“I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m some prize to be won!” I yell, angrily looking between the two of them, disgusted with the little show they put on tonight. I try to catch my breath as I collect my thoughts.

“I’m my own person, and I decide my destiny! Not you,” I turn to look at Luce, images of our amazing dates together play like a movie in my mind, how he makes me feel like I'm the only girl in the world, the only thing that matters to him, and the powerful connection pulling us together like magnets. I can just imagine spending eternity with him, exploring where my powers could take me, seeing how deep our connection goes, and what the next millennia together has in store for us.

“Not you,” I look at Dean. Memories of my nights with him flood back, the way he was always there when I needed him, the way he makes my heart flutter every time I look at him, the way I crave him in every sense of the word. It’s no use denying the feelings I have for Dean, and what I wouldn’t give to spend the rest of my days with him, watching him grow old and showing him what it really means to be loved.

“And definitely not fate.” I raise my head high and frill my wings out to their full extent, refusing to hold myself back any longer.

“It’s my choice, and I choose…”

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“How… how could you?” Lucifer stares at me in despair, his lip quivering ever so slightly. His wings frill out, feathers standing tall like that of a cat about to pounce.

“Luce…” I look at him ashamed. I can physically feel his pain inside of me, the growing storm that tears him apart from the inside like an unstoppable tsunami. The boy who’s never felt love before until I came along, the boy who’s lost everything, and now, he’s lost me too.

“I love you!” He declares, shaking with anger and eyes glaring a frightful red. The room starts to rumble, lights flickering, and books flying off of shelves.

“If you truly love me, you’ll let me go.” I pull him into one last hug. The feeling of electricity burns between us, but this time it isn’t passionate and loving, it feels painful and unstable, ready to explode at the drop of a pin.

He shakes his head in defiance, “He’s human, he’ll die, and in the end, you’ll always come back to me,” he growls, pulling me as close as possible, scared to ever let go.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to my level, our noses touching. His red eyes gaze into mine, glazed with tears. I place a soft kiss on his lips, one last reminder of our love. 

“Goodbye Luce,” I whisper. I slowly pull away, turning to Dean, Sam, and Castiel, all of them a bloody mess, but looking pleased with my decision. As I pull away, he desperately grabs my hand tight, turning me around to face him.

“I’ll never stop looking for you,” he says, his voice broken and shaky.

“Then I guess I’ll see you around.” I smile softly. 

His wings hang limply at his side in defeat. He reluctantly lets my hand go and it drops by my side, the fuzzy feeling fizzling away.

Sam gives Castiel a questioning look, which he returns with a curt nod, before slamming his bloody hand onto the Enochian sigil he smeared on the wall. There’s a bright white flashing light that fills every inch of the room, similar to what I imagine the surface of the sun is like.

 I cover my eyes with my forearm, to keep myself from going blind. I hear Lucifer yell behind me, and a burning feeling builds in my chest, the feeling runs through all my veins but passes within a matter of seconds, all that’s left is an unpleasant high pitched ringing noise.

“What the Hell was that?” I whip my head around to face Sam and Dean, looking at me relieved.

“An Enochian sigil, it temporarily banishes angels out of range,” Sam replies, quickly wiping his bloody palm off on his scuffed up jeans. The red smear blends in with the rest of the bloodstains caked on his clothes.

I look around the now much emptier room to find that both Castiel and Lucifer are nowhere to be seen. “What about Cas?”

“Cas is fine,” Dean assures me. “He’ll find his way home. He always does,” he chuckles, but immediately regrets it, clutching at his ribs.

I rush to his side, tentatively wrapping an arm around his shoulder to help him balance. He’s in bad shape.

“Thanks Y/N/N.” He gives me a genuine smile, showing off his blood stained teeth, and wraps his hand around my waist.

 I snuggle up close, our bodies pressed up against one another and I can feel him relax just a little. “Wait,” my face scrunches up in confusion, my body going stiff, “I’m half angel. How did you know that I wasn’t going to be banished as well?” I shoot them a skeptical look.

Sam took in a sharp inhale through his teeth, glancing at Dean awkwardly. “Yeah, well we didn’t, not exactly,” Sam says, stumbling through his words.

“It was a fifty-fifty shot.” Dean shrugs, then looks at me with a cocky smile.

I roll my eyes. “It’s good to be back,” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Let’s go home.” I smile, carefully walking Dean out the door.

I take one last look at the house behind me that now holds memories, both good and bad. I mentally say goodbye to both the house and Lucifer. This won't be the end, that I’m sure of, but for now I get to live the life I so desperately crave.

The door opens with a creak and I help Dean shuffle into the back of the impala, he winces as he settles in his seat. The blood from his wounds and clothes smear the leather. He looks at it in dismay, but decides to wave it off for the time being. Bigger fish to fry, and all that.

Sam takes his seat behind the wheel, adjusting the mirrors to allow his tall form to see properly. Dean is by no means short, but compared to his younger brother, he could very well be a hobbit.

I slide in next to Dean in the backseat. Given that his old 67’ Chevy Impala has no seatbelts, he’s in no shape to be back here alone. Someone has to keep his ass from being tossed around at every bump and curve. As much as he tries to hide his pain, I can tell that even just breathing is excruciating for him.

I pull him in close, wrapping my wing around his back. He rests his head on my shoulder. I can feel the soft puffs of air tickling my neck each time he exhales, it’s calming and I allow myself to relax knowing that Dean Winchester is safe by my side.

The rest of the drive is calm and silent. Not a bad silence that leaves you feeling on edge, but a comfortable silence that we all seem to melt into, knowing that everything is going to be okay.

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“Ah, fuck,” Dean curses under his breath.

“Hold still, I’m almost done.” I bite the tip of my tongue as I focus on carefully stitching up the cuts along his arms where shards of broken glass had sliced him in Lucifer's rage. I’m an amateur at this, never had to hand stitch a wound before in my life, but Sam insisted that Dean and I have some ‘alone time’.

“In… and out,” I mutter to myself, dragging the curved needle through one edge of the flayed skin to the other, not unlike the countless times I've had to stitch up holes in my clothing. “And… done!” I chirp, tying off the end of the thread into a neat little knot. I smile, quite pleased with my work.

“Thanks doc, feeling better already.” Dean gives a chuckle that turns into a wheeze. He tries to stand from his spot on the edge of the bed, clutching at his broken ribs in pain.

“Not so fast, hotshot.” I gently guide him back down onto the bed and kneel at his feet, inspecting his abdomen for the full extent of the damage. I carefully press two fingers to his lower ribs, leaving feather light touches to the tender area. I can feel the edges of a broken bone poking under the skin.

He winces at my touch, sucking in a tense breath. His face twists up in pain with each movement of my hand.

“He got you pretty bad, huh?” I tilt my head, moving my hand to the other side of his ribs.

“Eh, I've had worse.” He shrugs, trying to remain stoic.

“I’m gonna try something,” I mutter, not entirely sure if I'm talking to him or myself.

His eyes snap open, meeting mine in panic. “You’re gonna wh-” 

“Breath in,” I say, cutting him off. Before he has the chance to protest. I close my eyes and picture his ribs mending back into place. The warm buzzing feeling builds in my stomach and flows through my veins, and in a matter of seconds the sound of bones popping rings out.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Dean yells, fisting the bed sheets so hard the threads loosen under his grip. His breaths come out labored, but his ribs are completely healed, the purple bruises disappearing like they were never even there to begin with.

“See? You’re fine, you big baby.” I smile and pat him on the shoulder, happy that my test run had worked.

He looks at me through furrowed brows, clearly annoyed, but his face softens into an appreciative look. I push myself to my feet and shuffle into the bathroom. I fill a bowl with warm soapy water, grab a white fluffy towel, and return to the room, this time taking a seat next to Dean on the side of the bed.

“Thank you,” Dean says, inspecting his now perfectly healed ribs.

I give him a polite smile and nod. I dip the towel in the bowl, soaking up the warm water and carefully dab it on his chest, where the majority of blood stains his skin. Carefully, I clean his skin inch by inch, taking my time to make each muscle glisten under the soft bedroom lights. I can’t help the grin that tugs on my lips. Something about Dean is so intoxicating and his body is reminiscent of an ancient greek marble sculpture, chiseled to perfection.

He hums in appreciation, occasionally turning his arms and chest to give me better access to the more difficult to reach areas.

I mindlessly work my way up until I reach his stunning face. His mouth and chin are still coated in a layer of dried blood from coughing it up relentlessly only an hour ago. A bold idea flashes across my mind and in my second of bravery, I move my knees on either side of him, essentially straddling his lap. Our eyes lock and there’s a spark there that burns bright, an unspoken longing for one another. I lift the towel to his face, gently dabbing the blood off his stubbly chin. 

His dazzling green eyes stare at me in wonder and disbelief, like he couldn’t comprehend that this is all really happening.

“I’m here Dean. I’m real,” I assure him with a soft smile.

His hand tentatively reaches up to cup my face, his calloused thumb caressing the apple of my cheek, the skin flushing a rosy pink.

I lean into his touch and move the towel to his lips. I carefully dab each of his chapped and bloody lips until they’re clean, restoring them to their plump, pink nature. I can’t peel my eyes away from admiring just how enticing they truly are. I break away from his hold, suddenly feeling ashamed.

“I’m sorry Dean.” I let out a long sigh, averting his gaze and staring at my lap. 

He looks at me puzzled.

“For everything - the fight, turning myself in, Lucifer, all of it…” I sniffle, tears burning my eyes. “I’m just so sorry.”

“Hey, look at me,” he says in a calm, but stern voice. He takes my chin in his fingers, lifting my head up to look him in the eyes. “It’s okay, all of it.” He wipes my tears away with his thumbs. “I’m sorry too. I said - I did some things I regret. Every moment we spent searching for you, all I could think was the terrible things I said and how it might be the last thing you ever heard from me. It was tearing me up inside,” he admits.

“Dean-” I say with a sense of guilt.

“Don’t,” he cuts me off before I can even start. “All I'm saying is, it's okay. Let’s call it a fresh start for both of us.” He gives me a reassuring smile.

I nod, feeling a weight lifted off my shoulder. My wings relax, much of the tension relieved from my muscles.

“So… where do we go from here?” Dean asks, lifting his eyebrow in question.

“Well, if you’ll have me.” I swallow down my anxiety and force myself to spit it out. “I want to stay here… with you.”

Dean’s eyes light up like a kid at Disney World.

“I love you Dean Winchester,” I blurt out before I have the chance to talk myself out of it.

He blinks rapidly like he’s just hearing things. “You- you really mean that?” He asks with a heavy heart.

“More than anything.” I lean in so close that I can feel his breath on my lips.

“What about Lucifer? I mean, aren’t you his soulmate?” He says, trying to hide his scowl at the words coming out of his mouth.

“Screw fate, we make our own destiny,” I say in a breathy laugh.

“God I love you so much,” he says, colliding our lips together. 

The kiss is soft, our lips slowly moving in sync, exploring these new feelings together. My heart swoons. Immediately I crave more. I lean into the feeling, deepening the kiss with a needy moan. I throw my arms around his shoulders, a hand trailing up his neck and tangling in his dirty blonde hair. I tug on it lightly and he groans in my mouth. I smile against his lips, pleased with his reaction. 

He tentatively swipes his tongue along my bottom lip, silently asking permission for entry.

I happily comply, opening my mouth just wide enough to give him full access.

Without hesitation, he pushes his tongue in my mouth, exploring every inch of it until he has it memorized like the back of his hand. He tastes like whiskey and cherry pie with a hint of blood, a taste I just can’t get enough of. His tongue finds mine and they tangle together in a fight for dominance, a fight that ultimately I win. 

I bite his lip, the faint taste of copper lingering behind and pull away for just a second to push him down on the bed. 

He looks at me surprised with my sudden show of dominance, a sly smile tugging at his lips. He props himself up on his elbows, his eyes drinking in every inch of my body, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

How is it possible to be this fucking perfect? Dean Winchester is truly a gift from the gods.

I flash him a playful smile and experimentally grind down on his lap. His already hardening cock rubs deliciously against my sex. My wings quiver in pleasure. I can't stop the quiet moan that falls from my lips as he lightly thrusts up against me, the head of his cock brushing against my clit in the most perfect way. What I wouldn’t give to feel him without those pesky jeans in the way.

“Fuck baby,” he groans, tossing his head and screwing his eyes closed. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he says in a low husky voice.

I lean down, pressing our bodies together and resting my forearms on either side of his head, trapping him in this position, not that either one of us would ever want to leave. 

He gazes at me through lidded eyes, his pupils blown so wide that nearly all of the dazzling green from his irises recedes into the black abyss. 

“Then show me,” I seductively whisper in his ear, grinding my hips down again, earning a whimper from him.

This flips a switch in Dean. He grabs my hips possessively and pulls me upright on his lap.

“Off,” he commands in a dominant tone, tapping my hip with his fingers.

I waste no time and do as he says without question. First, I remove my shirt in one swift motion and unclip my bra, tossing them over my shoulder without care for the mess I leave behind. Then, I shuffle to my feet and wiggle out of my jeans, they pool around my feet and I kick them to the side, leaving me in just my underwear. I suddenly feel a bit self conscious and wrap my wings around my chest, concealing the most intimate parts of me.

“Don’t,” Dean says, gently grasping the flight feathers of my wings and moving them to the side. “You’re beautiful.” His eyes lovingly trail over my completely exposed body. He admires me like he’s watching the sun set for the very first time.

I blush profusely, hearing those words come out of his mouth does something to me, my heart flutters. Part of me believes that this isn’t even real, that this is just some dream I'm bound to wake up from and I’ll still be trapped in Lucifer’s bed. I mean, how could someone as perfect as Dean Winchester think so highly of me?

“I mean it Y/N, you’re the most beautiful creature i’ve ever seen,” he says in full seriousness, his eyes filled with adoration. He stands from the bed and strides over to me. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and kisses me passionately.

 I melt into the kiss, my legs turning into jello. I can’t help but lose myself in the feeling, swimming around in the love and lust building in my chest.

He reluctantly pulls away for air, both of us struggling to catch our breath. Leaning in close, he peppers my jaw with kisses, slowly moving down to my neck.

I lean my head to the side, giving him better access, desperately needing more.

He trails the kisses down to the base of my neck, finding a particularly sensitive spot that makes my eyes roll to the back of my head. He sucks on the spot, eliciting an involuntary moan from me. 

I gasp as he bites down, just light enough to not break the skin, but hard enough to hurt, followed by soft licks and kisses to soothe the pain. Surely it will leave a hickey on my neck, a subtle reminder of who I belong to now, who I’ve chosen to give all of my love to.

He hums as he pulls away, smiling as he admires his work. “Go lie down and spread your legs for me, okay sweetheart?” He asks in his deep husky voice, squeezing my hip assuringly.

I nod, unable to form words at the moment. That voice has always had a certain effect on me, but hearing him say those words to me leaves me practically dripping for him. I settle into the middle of the bed, resting my head on the soft pillows below. I turn to my right to watch him strip out of his clothes one piece at a time, never breaking eye contact with me.

Once he’s completely stripped of his flannel and denim, he slowly crawls onto bed and I let my legs fall open, exposing my black lacy panties to him.

“Good girl,” he coos, placing his forearms on either side of my body and capturing my lips in a hungry kiss. 

I whimper into his mouth, his praise going right to my core.

He breaks away and resumes his passionate kisses on the base of my neck, slowly working his way down to my collar bone. Once he reaches my breasts, he looks me in the eye, his gaze full of lust, and twirls his tongue around my perky nipple. 

I throw my head against the pillow and arch my back, savoring the feeling.

He wraps his warm mouth around it, lightly sucking and continuing to tease me with his tongue. He gives experimental nips and bites, keeping intense eye contact, gauging for my reactions. His hand finds my other breast and gives it a sensual squeeze. He gently rolls my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, applying just the right pressure.

“Mmm,” I hum in pleasure.

Once he’s had his fill, he kisses his way down my ribs and stomach until he reaches where I need him most. Looking at me with hungry eyes, he places a soft kiss on the inside of my thighs with a sly smile.

My breath hitches as he places a soft kiss on my clit through the thin fabric of my panties, so gentle that he’s barely touching me, but nevertheless it sends shivers of pleasure down my spine.

“Deeean…” I whine. I open my legs wider, wanting, no, needing him to do more.

“Shh, let me take care of you baby,” he coos in a hushed tone. He loops his fingers under the fabric and slowly slips my panties down, tossing them to the side. He admires my glistening pussy for a minute, studying it like he's preparing for an exam. His eyes flick up to meet mine, blown wide with lust.

I lift my hips up an inch off the bed, silently pleading for him to touch me, but he doesn’t give in until he’s had his share of admiring me like it’s the last time he’ll ever see me.

Once he’s ready, he lightly runs his finger down my slit, making me jump at the contact. He gathers up the slick, rubbing it between his thumb and pointer finger.  “So wet already,” he teases, inspecting his fingers. “All this for me?” He smiles deviously.

I nod bashfully, butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

He stares at me intently and brings his fingers to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, humming as he tastes my wetness. He doesn’t stop until his fingers are completely clean of my arousal, savoring every last drop like it’s his last drink of water.

“Fuck baby, your taste is so god damn addicting.” He smirks. Without giving me time to respond he leans in and runs the tip of his tongue down my dripping pussy. 

I whimper as his tongue brushes over my sensitive clit, my hips involuntarily bucking onto his face, but nothing could prepare me for what comes next.

He slowly traces down further, circling my hole with his tongue before pushing it in in one swift movement. He grabs my thighs, spreading them further as he moves his tongue in and out, fucking me relentlessly, flawlessly maintaining eye contact the whole time.

I grab the bedsheets with fisted hands, holding on for dear life, little whimpers spilling from my mouth, one after the other. A warm sensation builds in the pit of my stomach, growing stronger with every thrust of his tongue. God, what this man could do with his mouth is almost inhuman.

He hums in appreciation as he feels my walls growing tighter. He knows I'm close and he’s loving every second of it. He moves his tongue, running it up my slit until he reaches my sensitive clit. He swirls his tongue around it, taking the bud in his mouth and sucking lightly.

“Fuck,” I moan, as he sends me over the edge into an intense orgasm. The warm sensation of pleasure spreads through me like fireworks. I throw my head back, my wings stretching out as far as the bed will allow.

“That’s it,” he coos, admiring every twitch of my body and wings. “You’re doing so good for me sweetheart.”

“Deeeeeeean,” I moan as he helps me ride out the last waves of my orgasm.

He chuckles, pulling away and wiping my cum off his chin with the back of his hand. He pounces on me, kisses me roughly, shoving his tongue in my mouth. I taste my juices still on his lips, the flavors of me and him mixing together like the most intoxicating cocktail. He caresses my body with soft touches until I come down from my high. His rock hard erection presses against my belly, pre cum dripping from his slit.

“You think you can handle more?” He says in a gruff voice, looking at me with lustful eyes. “Think you can handle taking my cock?” he teases with a sly grin, taking himself in his hand and giving a few good strokes.

I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and pull him close. “Dean WInchester, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will murder everyone in this bunker,” I snap, returning his gaze with an intense passion.

His eyes widen in surprise, “You got it princess.” He chuckles.

He lines his cock up with my entrance until his head is just barely poking in. He looks at me in full seriousness, waiting for my consent.

I nod, desperately needing to feel him inside me.

He pushes in slowly, going inch by inch until he’s fully bottomed out inside me, filling me up so deliciously, our hips grinding against one another. 

My back arches off the bed in ecstasy. He’s much bigger than I expected, his thickness filling every part of me better than any man I've ever had. 

He stops, giving me time to adjust.

 It burns for a moment but quickly fades into pleasure.

“Fuck baby, so tight,” he groans, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss. 

“Dean, I need you to move,” I beg against his lips, clutching onto his broad shoulders, slick sweat already clinging to his peppered skin.

He pulls out halfway before slamming back into me, sending shocks of pleasure through my core, every nerve in my body firing all at once.

“Ah!” I moan far too loud. I smack my hand over my lips, terribly embarrassed at the sound that just came out of my mouth.

“No,” Dean commands, removing my hand from my mouth and pinning it above my head. “Let me hear those pretty little noises, sweetheart,” he growls in my ear seductively, fanning the fire inside me. He relentlessly pounds into me, his cock flawlessly dragging against the spot that drives me crazy.

I become a moaning, writhing mess underneath him, drunk on pleasure. My hips enthusiastically meet his with every thrust. An idea crosses my mind and I decide to put it to the test. I close my eyes and picture my grace wrapping around his cock and squeezing ever so slightly.

“Oh!” Dean moans out, his breath hitches and eyebrows furrow together. “What the fuck was that?” He looks at me bewildered.

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, my voice laced with concern.

“God no, never stop.” He leans his head against my neck, leaving sloppy kisses along the sensitive skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark.

I focus on working my warm buzzing grace over him, my strokes building up from soft and slow to intense and passionate. I feel the warm sensation twirling around inside of me as well, bringing us both to new heights.

He removes his hand from my wrist and slowly trails it down to my wing, caressing it ever so slightly. 

I give him a questioning look before he grabs a handful of my silky feathers and gently tugs on them.

“FUCK!” I scream, the pleasure radiating from my wings almost unbearable. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I temporarily lose my grip on reality. “Where the hell did you learn to do that?” I ask, panting through the intense sensations.

“Cas may have mentioned it to me at one point or another.” He winks, clearly pleased with how effective it is.

I make a mental note to have a word with Cas about this later, but I'm pulled out of my thoughts by another tug and a particularly deep thrust.

“Please don’t stop,” I whimper desperately.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart” He pants, keeping his fingers buried in my wings. He picks up his pace, relentlessly fucking me into the matress, flawlessly hitting my G spot with every stroke.

My mind goes blank, the only thing I can focus on is the building sensation in my core filling me with pleasure at an intensity I've never experienced before. It’s a bit intimidating, but incredibly arousing. I don’t even notice the string of expletives mixed with the repeated moaning of his name that falls from my mouth.

 I’ve had good sex before, but this? This is different. This is the kind of sex that ruins it for anyone else, not that I'll ever want to have sex with anyone but Dean Winchester ever again.

“Dean, fuck!... I’m gonna,” I stutter the words out as the warm feeling inside me builds hotter than ever before. 

“Me too… cum for me baby, cum on my cock Y/N,” he groans in my ear. He gives my wings a harder tug and with one last deep stroke, it’s all over.

I scream as I cum on his cock, my orgasm ripping through me. My walls clamp down on him, wings fluttering against the sheets. My grace explodes, surging through us both, sending an intense electric feeling from head to toe.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he moans as he cums inside me, the warm liquid filling me up.

“I love you too Dean,” I pant, my heart beating a million times a second.

“Never leave me again.” He looks me in the eye with full seriousness, searching my face for any sign of regret.

“Never,” I reply with a smile.

He collapse on top of me, and for just a moment, we become one. Love in perfect harmony. 

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

“He’s right, you know,” Dean says, tracing soft shapes with his finger on the skin of my sternum as we cuddle.

“Hm?” I question in a far out voice, still bathing in the afterglow.

“I won’t live forever, not like you.” He leans his head against my shoulder, draping his arm over me and pulling me close.

“I don’t care. It just makes every moment with you more precious.” I wrap my wings around him and place a soft kiss on the top of his head, his hair still damp with sweat.

He nods and weakly smiles against my skin, but I can feel his lingering doubt. 

“Look at me Dean.” I take his chin in my hand and direct him to look at me, his doe eyes full of hope. “Nothing would make me happier than being by your side as you grow old, loving you until your dying days.” I give him a bittersweet smile, pulling him even closer.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says, pressing a soft kiss against my lips, seemingly satisfied with my answer.

“I love you too, Dean,” I coo, returning his kiss with passion.

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

“To Y/N!” Dean cheers, lifting his glass to a toast.

“To Y/N!” Sam repeats with a smile.

Our glasses clink together, drops of whiskey spilling over the edges onto the worn wood of the library table.

“Welcome home,” Sam says, taking a swig of his drink, trying to hide the cringe on his face as the whiskey burns his throat.

“It’s good to be home,” I reply with a grin. I take a sip of my own, not how I usually would, gulping it down with haste. Instead, I gingerly take a small sip, savoring the flavor of my beloved Jack Daniels Whiskey like I have all the time in the world, because I do. I smile at the thought.

“Hello,” a familiar deep voice says from behind me. 

I turn around in my chair to find Castiel standing no more than a foot away, clearly still having no regard for personal space since I left, not that I mind.

 His crystal blue eyes fall on me, looking very happy to see me again.

I greet him in Enochian with an enthusiastic wave. For weeks I've been working on the pronunciation of ‘hello friend’ in Enochian, praying I'd have the chance to show Cas someday, a little piece of hope that kept me going since I left.

Castiel smiles wider than I've ever seen, breaking the usual stoic look he wears on his face. “I’m very impressed,” he praises, pulling me into a tight hug. His bloodied clothes are still sticky and wet, but that doesn’t matter at all right now, I'm just happy to be back by his side.

The brothers are taken aback, clearly surprised at the sudden affection from their usually distant angel.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N.” He pulls away, flattening out his crinkled trench coat. “Sam, Dean,” he greets them both with a smile.

“So, what now?” Dean asks, lifting his brow and glancing around at us, his finger dancing along the rim of the glass.

“I want you to train me to be a hunter,” I say sweetly, fixing my posture and displaying my wings proudly.

“A hunter, huh?” Dean says, looking amused.

I nod, excited at the notion.

“A half angel would make one hell of a hunter,” Sam laughs, taking another swig of his drink.

“I’d be happy to assist you in honing your powers,” Cas pitches in.

“Let's get started,” I smile, finally feeling complete for once in my life.

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