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spinningwebsandtales · 2 months ago

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Imagine Dante Patching You Up After A Tough Mission

Dante X FemReader

Rating: M

Warnings: Blood, Injury, flirting, steam, suggestive themes, violence, stitching, angst, fluff, some nudity

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 2: here

(A/N:) What was supposed to be a short imagine suddenly exploded into this whopper of a story. I had a little too much fun but I enjoy hurt/comfort so much. And I adore Dante so yeah I had a little too much fun. I went ahead and made this mature as my inner vampire came out. So enjoy the chaos that is being unleashed from my mind! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Dante held you tightly, blood dripping down your fingers to drip on the ground. The gash in your shoulder burned and every little jostle had you hissing in pain. The mission had been tough, tougher than you were expecting. But to come out alive was a huge victory. Dante kept taking quick glances at you as he worried about the injuries. You had been sent flying by a larger demon. Dante knew he heard a loud crack when you hit the wall, but you refused to let yourself be pampered too much. You argued about Dante carrying you so now he was helping you by his arm around your waist and your arm over his shoulder while he helped you walk.

"I'm taking you to the hospital," Dante lugged you harder towards the van.

"No hospitals," you gritted your teeth, willing your feet to keep moving forward.

"You're bleeding out babe," Dante argued, carrying you inside the door.

"I haven't lost that much blood."

"You're bleeding more than the demon I just made into a pin cushion," he retorted. "You're going. I'm sure something else is busted inside you too."

"Ribs," you replied. "They're cracked. They won't do anything for cracked ribs Dante."

"We can at least get you a blood transfusion. I can't lose you sweetheart."

"You're not going to lose me Dante. You're going to stitch me and I'm going to heal. Demon Hunter's promise okay."

Dante cursed but started the van anyway and respected your wishes, even though he didn't like them or agree. Your head rolled against the van couch's cushion and Dante was getting worried. A small puddle of blood grew at your feet and he could feel panic nipping at his heels. The van had a med kit, not as extensive as a hospital but good enough to take care of all sorts of wounds his human team members needed cared for. He called your name and you responded with a hum.

You were still conscious so that was good but he needed to get your flayed open shoulder taken care of soon or you wouldn't be much longer. A motel sign, sun bleached and worn rose in the distance and while he rather get you back to the shop, this would have to do. Pulling over Dante parked the van in the pot holed parking lot of a two story motel. The yellow walls chipping and the door numbers falling off, but it would have to do. He grabbed a wad of cash out of the stash that he kept in the glove compartment and kissed your forehead as he passed by.

"I'll be right back just stay with me," he whispered.

"I ain't going anywhere Dante," you winced.

"Still don't want to go to the hospital?"

"No I don't! How do you explain to the nurses that my injures were caused by being back handed by a flying demon arm," you snorted before groaning in pain.

"They'll just think you're drunk or tweaking out on drugs," he chuckled.

"Oh I wish I was drunk right now," you moaned.

"Just hang on I'll get you taken care of," he kissed you again and left out the side door.

With a room key in hand, Dante scooped you up despite your protest and pained yelps and carried you into the dusty room he rented for a couple nights. He checked the bed carefully and laid you on the side with the less stains. Blood trickled from your lips and he wiped it away with his thumb.

"I'm going to have to remove your shirt to check your shoulder," Dante cleared off the bedside table to set the van's medical kit close by.

"Take me to dinner first before you start stripping me," you hissed.

"Don't worry," Dante scrounged around for a cup to put warm water in and grabbed several motel towels and washcloths, "you can keep your pants on. It's less fun that way but I'll still show you a good time."

"Oh thank you," you rolled your eyes and fought the laugh bubbling up.

"Actually forget moving you to get your shirt off I'm going to have to cut it off you." Dante didn't want to move you. The less he did the better it would be on your cracked ribs.

"You barbarian," you teased. "This is the only one I have though. The last thing I want is to get arrested for public indecency. You're indecent enough for both of us."

Dante chuckled already ripping your shirt carefully so he wouldn't jostle you, "You can wear mine."

"Gross yours is dirty too and covered in demon guts," you made a face. Dante finished getting your shirt out of the way leaving you in your bra. You felt a little bit embarrassed but you were the one who decided you didn't want to go to the hospital and Dante wouldn't hold anything against you. Despite acting like a womanizer at times with his inappropriate jokes, he was more respectable towards you and other women than anyone who didn't know him realized.

"I carry extra clean ones. And don't worry you're still a beauty to me blood and all."

"That's not what I'm worried about," you rolled your eyes.

"I'm looking respectfully," Dante laughed. "My mind is on pure thoughts."

"You have no pure thoughts Dante."

"True."

"Sew me up already before I decide decking you will be worth the pain," you snarled.

"Mmm I like a feisty woman," he waggled his brows while stroking your cheek.

"Dante!"

"Okay fine," he huffed.

"I'm still bleeding."

"I'll remedy that."

"Hurry up!"

"Yes ma'am!"

Dante filled up two coffee mugs with warm water and squirted a little bit of soap from the complimentary bottle of hand soap into one. He used the soap water on one of the rags to wipe away as much blood from your skin and the edge of the wound. You hissed and snarled at his touch but you didn't move much. He knew that you knew the stitching was going to hurt worse. He would offer you a drink or two if he had a bottle but he hadn't bought booze in a long time. Pizza was his downfall now but he would be there for you. Taking his time and being as gentle as possible. Using the regular warm water he cleaned the few suds away and then used a towel to wipe your skin dry. He loves you so much and he can't bear to see the bruises already blossoming on your sides and a few other places you were hit. His blood boiled in anger at the thought of the rogue demon doing this to you. His inner devil snarling, making his hands tremble.

You noticed Dante struggling and he quietly growled in his throat. You reached out clasping his wrist and stabilizing his shaking hand. His blue gaze catching yours, you nodded giving him a gentle squeeze as a reminder.

"I'm okay," you soothed. "I'm right here Dante. I'm not going to leave you any time soon."

"I'm pretty sure I'm the one who is supposed to be soothing you," he retorted but visibly relaxed. His inner devil quieting down immediately at your voice. He went back to cleaning you up as best as he could.

"Then get your head out of your butt and focus on getting me closed up. I don't like open wounds on sheets I don't know what the stains are from."

"I have a pretty good idea," his side eye made you want to gouge out his eyes.

"For the love of! Dante please shut up," you whined in exasperation.

Dante finished cleaning up as much blood as possible then he focused on finding the stitch kit with some antiseptic, he prepped himself to listen to more of your breathless complaints. Threading the needle and grabbing the holder, Dante pinched your skin together. You jerked at the pain of him holding the tear of your skin together but then cried out when he poked the needle through your skin.

"Oh what I wouldn't give to have your healing ability," you sobbed.

"I'd give it to you baby in a heartbeat if I could," Dante choked, quickly finishing the first stitch before going for the other one. Pinch, poke, tie, cut. Pinch, poke, tie, cut. He moved quickly and effortlessly as tears streaked your cheeks. Then in mere moments Dante finished the last stitch and wiped away the stray blood droplets that leaked while he had worked. You eased back, shaking from the adrenaline shooting through your body. And while Dante felt guilty for putting you through so much already there was more to be done. With sorrowful eyes and gave you his next task.

"I'm sorry babe but I'm going to have to sit you up so I can bandage you as best as I can." Dante dreaded this moment. But the stitches weren't enough protection and he wanted to get your ribs wrapped as well. Any sort of relief he could give you he wanted to.

"I'm a big girl I can take it," you gritted your teeth. Willing yourself not to scream. You didn't want the other motel patrons to call the cops due to the noises you were making.

"That's my girl," he smoothed your hair back before kissing the top of your hair.

With gentle movement he raised you up, making you catch your scream but still whines and whimpers pushing past your lips. Dante's heart clenched before shattering at every sound that escaped your mouth. You rested your cheek against Dante's clothed abdomen. Trying to catch your breath but not breathe too deeply due to your ribs. His warm skin heated your cheek you clung to his coat as he widened his stance to fit your legs between his.

"I got you sweetheart just rest," Dante cooed, reaching for a padded gauze and bandage wrap and tape. You nodded, still trying to stop the room from spinning from the pain. He wrapped your ribs first, wanting to get the most painful out of the way since you were still reeling from him lifting you into a sitting position. You focused on the nearness of Dante, his arms moving carefully and surely as he encircled you. His scent and presence did more than anything. You sucked in a breath as he taped the bandage secure and moved towards your shoulder. His fingers brushed your skin, sending a jolt of electricity and before Dante could pull away, you grabbed his hand. Still clinging to his coat and your head still pressed to his abdomen, you placed the back of his hand against your cheek.

"Thank you," you whispered, exhaustion finally taking a hold.

"Always," Dante replied with conviction. He eased you back down carefully, the wraps helping your ribs from jostling more than usual. He fished some pain killers from the kit and took a bottle of water from the counter. You swallowed them and shut your eyes.

"Rest," Dante ordered and you didn't argue.

Once he knew that you wouldn't need him, Dante went back to the van grabbing himself a change of clothes and a set of his boxers and shirt for you later. You couldn't shower just yet with all your bandages but he'd help you get clean as much as possible when you were ready. Right now rest was what you needed most, but Dante wanted to get clean. Your blood had dried to his skin and it was mixed with the devil's blood. He couldn't stand the scent of you mingled with the filth of evil.

Checking on you again, Dante started the shower. The rusty showerhead didn't have much pressure but he didn't complain. Tossing his dirty clothes to the floor he entered the hot water spray and watched the red stain the bottom of the tub and go down the drain. His forehead pressed against the wall and he shuddered. The agony of the day catching up as the fear of almost losing you gripped him. He choked back his tears, slamming his fist in the plastic shower wall. He wanted to scream but he made due with cursing under his breath. Taking a deep breath, Dante steadied himself and focused on cleaning up.

Shutting off the water and toweling himself off with the remaining towel. Dante dressed in a clean pair of boxers and a shirt, but he laid the pants on one of the motel chairs. He wanted to lay by your side and rest for a moment. He needed to be close to you for awhile. He would focus on getting more supplies in the morning. His focus right now was you and keeping himself calm before he could lose it any more than he already had in the shower. He shook his head trying to dry his hair as much as possible before he laid next to you on the bed. It was smaller than the one he had back home but it was perfect to him. Your body was close to his and he took your hand threading your fingers together while he pressed as close as he thought safe to. You mumbled in your sleep, but he was happy that you were in a deep sleep. Rest would help you heal. He never wanted to admit how fast you wormed your way into his heart. But the thought of losing you ripped him to shreds. He lost his dad, mom, and pretty much his brother in this life. Surely it wouldn't take you too. A man could only lose so much. He breathed you in deeply, calming himself, and your sleepy breathing lulling him to sleep. You were the last thing he saw before he drifted off to sleep and he looked forward to you being the first thing he saw when he woke up.

#Dante X Reader #Dante / Reader #Dante #Devil May Cry #DMC #Dante Imagine #Devil May Cry Imagine #DMC Imagine #Imagine #Not My Gif #My Writing

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cece693 · 23 days ago

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OPERATION TOTALLY (NOT) CHEATING

pairing: jasper whitlock x gender neutral reader synopsis: Planning a surprise for anybody is stressful—add that they're a vampire and can feel the anxiousness coming off you—it's impossible. Yet, you will not go down without trying; even if it does seem like you're cheating on your mate.

You’d never imagined that preparing a nice thing for your century-old mate could feel so much like plotting a felony.

Step one: secrecy. Step two: more secrecy. Step three: send every signal of infidelity imaginable—entirely by accident.

Carlisle’s dusty attic is not built for stealthy vampires. One creaky beam and the whole house knows your coordinates. Still, you ease open an ancient trunk, digging for the Civil-War-era Stetson Alice swore was up here. A perfect anniversary gift, you think—something Jasper hasn’t seen since 1863.

Downstairs, Jasper’s empathic radar pings like a sonar alarm. From his spot on the living-room sofa he feels:

you, vibrating with jittery excitement

you, radiating guilt

you, spiking whenever your phone lights up with a message from Emmett (“u find hat yet?”)

To Jasper it reads like: unfaithful lover + secret rendezvous + texting another behind his back. He drums ghostly fingers on his knee. “Probably nothing,” he mutters, then remembers the last time he said that—right before Bella almost leapt off a cliff. Never again.

A DAY LATER

You’ve commandeered Tony Stark levels of covert ops for phase two: refurbishing the Stetson. Rosalie agreed to steam and reshape the brim—on the condition that you never reveal she owns a vintage milliner’s kit. She works under fluorescent light, humming. You pace, texting, practicing your big reveal line.

Enter: Jasper, silent as fog.

He sees shapes through the half-open garage door—your silhouette, Rosalie’s blond head bent over…something. In the dim glow it almost looks like she’s nuzzling your neck. His dead heart drop-kicks his ribs. He retreats two steps, collides with a lawnmower, and the resulting clang is loud enough to wake Forks. You and Rosalie whip around; Jasper is gone before the brim stops quivering.

Rosalie side-eyes you. “Your cowboy’s about to spiral.”

You groan, fingers tunneling your hair. “I’m throwing him a surprise party, not committing adultery!”

“Then tell him before he reenacts the Charge of the Light Brigade.”

A FEW HOURS LATER

Your brilliant finale: a mock western duel staged in Charlie Swan’s clearing (borrowed by Alice after a vision of no hunters or hikers nearby). You’ve bribed Emmett with ten pints of mountain-lion blood to play outlaw, Esme to set the picnic tables, and Alice—reluctantly—to keep Jasper occupied until sundown.

Unfortunately, Alice’s definition of occupied is “take him shopping for new curtains,” which lasts exactly seven minutes before Jasper bails and heads home, storm cloud brewing.

He finds your shared bedroom empty except for a suspicious luggage tag that reads “Hotel el Granate—Volterra.” (You used the tag as decorative ribbon for the hatbox.) Jasper’s mind does the arithmetic: Volterra = Volturi. Volturi = danger. Also: why is there a hotel involved? And why does the tag smell faintly like Emmett?

Jealousy roars through him. Carpet fibers scorch under his boots as he bolts for the woods. If you’re fleeing to Italy with anyone, he’ll—

“Jazz!” Alice flashes into view, hands raised. “Turn around. Trust me.”

He seethes. “Tell me where they are.”

Alice sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But try not to rip anyone’s limbs off in the next ten minutes, okay? It’s supposed to be romantic.”

Golden twilight filters through fir branches onto a scene out of an old dime novel: Emmett, dressed in a bandana and absurd leather chaps, pretends to menace a wooden crate marked High-Noon Fireworks. Esme fusses over gingham tablecloths while humming “Home on the Range.” You stand in the center, holding the carefully restored Stetson, anxiety bubbling like shaken cola.

Then Jasper stalks in, eyes black as an eclipse. The entire clearing freezes.

“Sugar,” you start, “I can explain—”

He notices Emmett brandishing a cap gun. He notices Rosalie lounging beside a phonograph. He notices the hat in your hands, burnished and perfect. Confusion slams the brakes on fury; his empathy floods with the singular taste of your love—pure, bright, unmistakable.

“Surprise,” you finish weakly.

Silence stretches. Then Emmett snickers. Rosalie chuckles. Jasper’s shoulders sag as realization paints him crimson with embarrassment.

“You thought I was cheating,” you tease, stepping closer.

“Well,” he coughs, smiling crookedly. “It felt like you were hiding something.”

“That’s literally the definition of a surprise, Major Paranoia.”

He laughs, breath hitching, and you place the Stetson on his head. It fits like memory itself. For a moment the soldier, the newborn, the centuries of guilt all fall away; he is just Jasper Whitlock, beloved, marveling that someone would rummage through dusty trunks and bribe siblings for him.

“I reckon I owe you an apology.” He pulls you in by the belt loops.

“You reckon?” You arch a brow. “I had to lie, sneak around, dodge your empathy—do you know how impossible it is to mask excitement and guilt simultaneously?”

He kisses you soft, then deeper, laughing against your lips. “I felt the guilt part loud and clear.”

From the sidelines, Emmett whistles. “Kiss ’em like you mean it, cowboy!”

Jasper flips Emmett the bird without breaking contact. Esme claps delightedly. Rosalie drops the needle on the phonograph, and an old swing tune crackles through the forest air. You finally pull back, eyes sparkling. “Happy 160th anniversary of your second turning.”

He tilts the hat brim up, gaze molten gold. “Best gift I’ve had in either lifetime.”

You grin. “Wait ’til you see the fireworks.”

Cue Emmett lighting a fuse that sends him screeching into a tree, Rosalie cursing about singed hair, Carlisle appearing with a fire extinguisher, and Alice recording everything on an antique camcorder “for posterity.” Jasper laughs until he can’t breathe—figuratively—and you realize the surprise was never the hat or the party; it was this moment, incandescent with shared immortality.

Later, as sparks rain like molten stars and the clearing smells of smoke and pine, Jasper wraps an arm around your waist. “Next time,” he murmurs, “maybe leave me a note?”

You smirk. “Next time you turn off the empath radar.”

“Deal.” He nudges the Stetson brim against your forehead. “Though for the record, jealousy isn’t my best look.”

“It is when it ends with you wearing nothing but that hat,” you whisper.

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trashmoutth · 7 months ago

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You wanna keep arguing now?

Dean Winchester oneshot Summary: Reader and Charlie go on a hunt by themselves and it goes wrong. Now you're stuck in a motel with a pissed of Dean Winchester. Pairing: Dean x f!reader, implied Sam x f!reader (platonic) Warrning(s): NSFW, minors dni!, smut, angst, mentions of death, arguing, english is not my first language and I didn't write for awhile but my spn obsession is back and I felt the need.

„What the hell were you thinking?!“

He was furious with you, you knew that. But after two weeks of being cooped up in the bunker you were starting to go crazy. So, when Charlie called to ask for your help on a vampire case you did not think twice about it. You weren’t exactly a full-fledged hunter per se, but you’ve had some experience in the past couple of years. You’ve helped the boys fight demons, angels, even leviathans, so you believed you could handle yourself against some punk-ass vamps. Not to mention, Charlie was a friend, and you were bored out of your mind.

You left a note for Sam, took one of the cars from the bunker (well, borrowed) and drove off to meet with Charlie. What you did not expect was the case going downhill as quickly as it did. The vamps captured you, fed on you and were trying to decide weather to turn you or kill you, when he came barging in. He took the entire nest out in less than five minutes and set you free. Charlie broke her leg so he dropped her off in a hospital and was currently driving you back to the bunker.

You were grateful to him for saving you, of course, but you knew that he was fuming. He was driving for an hour without saying a word to you and you could sense the anger coming off of him. He didn’t even turn the music on so you sat there uncomfortably in complete silence, only accompanied by the sound of the car engine.

“Dean…”, you tried to begin a sentence, but he quickly cut you off.

“Shut the hell up! I don’t wanna hear it!”

You took a deep breath. You tried to keep your cool because you knew you were in the wrong here, but the way he spoke to you started to make you angry.

“Dean, I know I shouldn’t have left, but you and Sam were working your own case and Charlie needed help…”

“If Charlie needs help, she can always call me! Or Sam! Or Cas! What the hell were you thinking?! Just leaving the bunker like that?! No note, no anything…”

“I left a note!” you protested.

“Well, I didn’t get it!”

“I left it on Sam’s table…”

“Oh, I see! That’s nice! So now you and Sam are keeping stuff from me? That’s great…”

You rolled your eyes. He was so dramatic.

“It’s not like that…”

“No, no, no, you know what? That’s fine! You and Sammy have something going on, I don’t give a crap, but the next time your ass needs saving don’t call me!”

“Well, I’m not the one who called you, Charlie did”, you said calmly.

He shot you a dirty look and stepped on the gas pedal.

“Jesus Christ, man, slow down!”, you gasped.

“Oh, so you can walk into a vampire’s nest all by yourself, but my driving is too much for you?”

He did slow down though. You spent the next thirty minutes driving in silence and then he pulled over in front of a motel.

“Come on”, he said and opened your car door for you.

“We’re stopping here?”

“It’s a five-hour drive to the bunker and you’re still bleeding”.

“I’m not bleeding…”

“Just get out of the car!”

You let out an annoyed sigh, but you listened to him. Truthfully, you were feeling a little dizzy. He booked a room for the two of you and practically carried you inside. He placed you on the bed, took out the first-aid kit from his car and started patching you up in silence.

You could tell by the look on his face that he was still angry, but his hands were gentle and careful. You were trying to think of something to say, something that would make things better, but nothing came to mind. You just observed him. His jaw was clenched and his eyes gloomy, but there was something else in them. Like a trace of… fear? Maybe.

You weren’t unaccustomed to Dean being mad at you and it was so easy to forget why he was that way. He cared. He cared more than anyone you’ve ever met. As much as you bickered, you knew he loved you in a way, and that he was simply scared to lose you.

“Dean…”, you tried again, “I’m sorry”.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at you. He just clenched his jaw harder. You took that as a sign he might actually let you speak now, so you kept going.

“I know I shouldn’t have left like that, and I know I screwed up. I thought I could help, you know? Charlie needed backup and you and Sam were busy… I just thought I shouldn’t let her go on a hunt by herself. I’m sure you wouldn’t have wanted that either. I was just trying to do the right thing… Like you would’ve!”.

His eyes finally met yours. He wasn’t that angry anymore, but he was annoyed at your words.

“You are not me!”, he finally said.

Ouch.

What’s that supposed to mean?

“Well, maybe so, but any backup is better than no back up!”, you defended yourself, “And if it weren’t for me, Charlie would’ve gotten a lot worse than a broken leg!”

At your surprise, he chuckled. Now you were the one who was starting to get angry.

“Don’t laugh at me!”, you said firmly, “You are looking at me like I’m some kind of idiot! Or an amateur! I know I may not have been raised a hunter like you and Sam, but I’ve been through a lot worse than what happened today! I fought by your side against Lucifer and Lilith and Eve and Dick friggin’ Roman! I’ve saved your ass personally multiple times! I’ve been dead! I’ve been to hell! I’m not some stupid civilian, Dean! After everything that happened, I’m… I’m a hunter! Weather you like it or not! Weather I like it or not! I might not be your calibre of a hunter but…”

“Woah, woah, slow down, hunter!”, he raised his hands defensively, “That’s not what I meant!”

You blinked in a surprise.

“Then what exactly did you mean?”, you asked, still frustrated at his tone.

He let out a silent groan.

“Listen, I know you are good at the job. I know you are tough and can handle yourself. Even though today was a bust”, he added in accusatory tone.

You opened your mouth to say something, but he quickly interrupted you.

“But when I say you are not me…”, he shook his head, searching for the right words. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to collect himself and finally spoke again, in a calmer tone.

“Listen, I screw up too! Hell, I’ve screwed up more times than I can count! And you’re right, you’ve saved my ass a lot! So have Sam and dad and Bobby… but if something happens to me, then that’s on me! That’s my own friggin’ fault! But it’s my job to protect you! And if something happens to you… I just couldn’t live with that!”

You listened to him in silence, trying to figure out what exactly he was saying to you. A part of you understood. The guilt, the responsibility he was feeling. You wanted to help him. To help him with that weight he was carrying. To tell him everything is ok and that you understand. But all that came out of your mouth was:

“It’s not your job to protect me, Dean”.

He flinched. Something twinkled in his green eyes and his voice turned cold again.

“I get it, I’m sure you would much rather have Sammy watching over you but I’m afraid I’m all you can get right now!”.

You raised your eyebrows in a surprise.

“What?”, it was all you were able to say.

“Listen, I know you two have something going on and the last thing I want is to get in the way of that, sweetheart”.

You shook your head, and a small smile appeared on your lips before you could stop it.

Is that what this was? This entire tantrum? Was Dean Winchester… jealous?

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about”, you said sincerely.

“Sure”, he replied.

“Dean… Sam and I… we’re friends, that’s all! I mean I love him, he’s like a brother to me. Like a big, nerdy, dorky brother I’ve always wanted! And I’d do anything for him, just like you would. But… I could never be with him!”, you made a grimace and laughed.

“Yeah, okay”, he said.

“Why don’t you believe me?”, you laughed out loud this time. You just couldn’t stop it. This entire conversation was so bizarre.

“Because I’m not blind. He’s the one you always turn to when you need something, he’s the one you always call, text, talk to… hell, you left him a note today, didn’t you?”.

“Well, yes…”

“Like I said, I get it! I’m not trying to be a dick!”, he said, “It’s fine by me if you have a thing for each other, I’m glad even… you both deserve to be happy! All I’m saying is, it would be nice to get a heads up when you’re about to do something stupid, especially if I’m the one who’s gonna end up having to save you!”.

“Dean Winchester, I promise you I’m not trying to screw your brother!”, you yelled out,

“The reason I left him a note and not you is because I knew you were going to act like this! You would tell me to turn my ass around and come back home and if I didn’t you would come to get me, just like you did! And THEN you would yell at me just like you did! I’m not picking favourites, it’s just that Sam is easier to deal with sometimes, that’s all!”

“Oh, so I’m difficult to deal with, is that it?”

“Hell yes, you are!”

“So why do you keep dealing with me?”

“Oh, you’re such a damn idiot!”, you stood up from the bed in exasperation.

It was a mistake. The blood rushed to your brain, and you swerved on your feet. He jumped up and grabbed your shoulders with jungle cat-like reflexes. The look on his face went from irritated to worried in a matter of a second. It made you want to chuckle, but you held it in.

Goddamn, did you love this man.

“I’m fine, I’m fine”, you said quickly.

His eyes and voice both softened as he tried to get you back on the bed,

“Maybe you should get some rest. We can keep arguing in the morning”.

You rolled your eyes at him.

“Why do you want to keep arguing with me?”

“Trust me, sweetheart, that’s the last thing I want to do with you”.

Your heart stopped for a second. Your eyes widened and you looked at him in shock.

“Excuse you?”

He let out another sigh and tried to sit you down once again.

“Nothing, just go to sleep”.

“No, no, no, I don’t think so”, you said, shaking your head and turning around to face him, “What was that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I’m just saying crap. Don’t pay attention to it”.

But you wouldn’t let go. It’s been months since you first started noticing the change in Dean’s behaviour towards you. When you first met, he annoyed you so much and as far as you could tell, the feeling was mutual. You really were closer with Sam for a long time and the only reason you tolerated Dean was because he was his brother. And because well, he did save your life a couple of times. But then you died and came back and Dean, well… changed. You thought it was because of the guilt he felt over your death. Metatron did kill you because of your involvement with the Winchesters.

But it wasn’t just the guilt. You two started going on hunts together, he trusted you, he talked to you and looked at you like he’s never done before. You started suspecting he might have developed feelings for you that were more than just friendship, but there wasn’t an opportunity to bring it up. And you wanted to bring it up. You wanted to bring it up so badly.

“No!”, you protested and looked directly into his eyes, “What did you mean? What do you want to do with me?”, you asked, almost teasingly, but with a genuine desire to receive an answer.

He noticed the change in your tone and his eyes twinkled. His hands were still gently resting on your shoulders, making sure you don’t swerve again. He raised one of them and slowly brought his fingers up to caress your cheek. His touch was soft and warm, but it made a shiver go down your spine as if you were touched by lightning. You raised up your hand and gently placed it on his in affirmation. A small smile escaped both of your lips’.

You were still glaring into his eyes, waiting for him. Finally, his hand cupped your cheek and he brought his face to yours, slowly pressing his lips against yours.

The kiss was deep and gentle and warm, and it left you feeling breathless. You pulled him closer to you, running your fingers through his hair. He responded in the same way, sliding his hands down your waist and grabbing your thighs to lift you off the ground. You locked your legs around him as he carried you over to the table that was placed in the middle of the room.

He placed you on the table as his hands began exploring every inch of your body, his lips never leaving yours. Before you could even form a coherent thought, his hands were all up in your hair, over your chest, your thighs… In the moment they reached between your legs you let out a soft moan and arched your back, leaving your neck so beautifully exposed to him. He took advantage of that and moved his lips down to your collarbone, gently kissing and sucking on it. You pulled him even closer and moaned again. His scent was everywhere. He was everywhere. And it wasn’t enough.

You started to unbutton your plaid shirt but his fingers were quicker than yours.

You smiled at his impatience.

“It’s okay, the buttons won’t run away”, you said.

“I wish they would”, he muttered, making you laugh joyfully.

He smiled and kissed you again, unbuttoning your shirt completely and taking it off you in one fell swoop.

You tried to unbutton his now, but he was already out of it before you could even try.

“God”, you teased him, “You’re so impatient!”

“You have no idea”, he groaned, lifting you up again and crashing you both onto the bed.

He was placing hungry kisses all over your chest and stomach. His fingers then reached down to unbutton your jeans and you shivered in excitement as he slowly pulled them off you.

“Open your legs for me, sweetheart”, he said in a low tone, his eyes looking up to you as they were glistening with excitement and desire.

You bit your lip as you felt another shiver go down your spine.

“Open them”, he repeated.

You did what he asked, slowly spreading your legs as you felt the wetness and the pulsating sensation coming from between.

He gently moved the fabric of your underwear to a side, exposing you to him. His hungry eyes met yours once again as he gave you a soft kiss right between your thighs. You arched your back slightly and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him closer as he kissed and licked and sucked.

“These are getting in the way”, he said quietly and finally took off your panties.

You couldn’t help yourself and another moan left your lips, much louder this time. This encouraged him to go faster as you were becoming a moaning mess underneath his tongue. The pressure started building and building and building… and then he suddenly pulled away.

You widened your eyes in shock, desperate to pull him back down, but he pulled you up instead.

“I’m not done with you yet”, he said quietly as his breath tickled your ear.

You groaned in frustration.

“Now who’s impatient?”, he asked with a teasing smile.

“God, you’re so mean!”, you said.

“We’ll see about that”, he said as he reached down between your legs again and started rubbing your clit. He then slowly pushed one finger inside of you, stretching you out and earning another moan from you.

“Oh, God”, you whispered.

“You like that?”, he asked and added another finger.

You moaned again in response.

“Am I still mean?”

“Yes, you are!”, you responded.

He pushed you back on the bed while placing himself on top of you. He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. You reached out and gently cupped the growing bulge in his boxers making him groan quietly. You gasped in excitement. He was so hard.

He noticed your reaction and smiled.

“You see how hard I am for you?”

You bit your lip and nodded. Then you slowly pulled down his boxers and took him into your hands.

You’ve imagined him like this countless times, but you were still pleasantly surprised to see how big he was. You gripped him firmly and began to stroke his shaft as he groaned again.

You licked the tip and then put the rest of his length into your mouth, gently sucking on it. He moaned and tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer.

You sucked harder causing him to cuss and moan again. You loved the sound of it. Your fingers found their way between your legs, and you began touching yourself as you sucked him off.

He seemed to like that even more and by the sounds he was making you could tell he was close.

“You’re going to need to slow down, sweetheart”, he said in a hoarse voice, “Or I’m going to cum without even being inside you first”.

You sucked on him a couple more times but then you let go. He pulled you up to kiss you, but you just pushed him down to the bed and climbed on top of him. His eyes widened in excitement as you guided his length to your entrance and slowly began to ride him.

You loved seeing him like this, messy and desperate for your touch. He gripped your thighs and moaned your name, his eyes staring deep into yours, begging you to fuck him harder.

You gave him what he wished for and began moving your hips faster and faster as you both cussed and groaned.

“Yes, yes”, he was whispering between the moans, “That’s it, ride me baby, please!”.

You were so close, and by the looks of it, so was he. You gripped each other closer as the pressure was building once again. You pulled his face close to your chest as he was about to come and finally, reached the so very anticipated release.

You held each other like that for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breaths and then you finally laid back in the bed.

He pulled you close to him as you buried your face into his neck, just breathing in his scent. You were laying like that in silence for a little while, not really knowing what to say. Not really needing to say anything. Until he finally started chuckling like a little kid.

“What?”, you raised your eyes to him. “Well, do you wanna keep arguing now?”, he asked with a grin. You laughed too. “Oh, definitely! Just let me get some water first”.

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