Buy Me Dinner First [Dean Winchester x Reader]

31} Under New Management

The beautiful bird of prey above is a golden eagle, they're one of my favourite birds so that's the inspiration for what your wings look like.

The temporary hideout Lucifer had chosen to reside in was now partially overgrown. It seems that instead of the destructive force he'd hoped you would be, you were pure life. Coaxing it from every living thing, the plants that had caught you once now had fully enveloped you, twisting gently around you and protecting you from both sight and the cold dampness of the building. It was fascinating to Lucifer to watch. He'd expected you to be like Michael, all wrath and bright light but this...this is delicate and nurturing and unexpected to say the least.

The same energy courses through you, into every cell of your body, and you open your eyes easily, seeing the same high ceiling you fell asleep under slowly being revealed by the shifting of the flowers and leaves covering your body. You haven't felt this good, this powerful, in a long time.

"Morning, Sunshine." Lucifer sings from nearby, having stayed nearby as you incubated, the blood transforming you slowly and surprisingly painlessly. It burns but this time it's like a smooth whiskey, tingling and warm but not agonising like it had been for the other doses, those that felt like lava flowing through your veins.

Your chest is tight, so damn tight, as you sit yourself up and run your hands over the waxy surface of the biomatter gently supporting you. Feeling an odd weight on your back, your head turns to catch the two new limbs that had sprouted from between your shoulder blades. The varying tones of light and dark brown bleeding through your fluffy, freshly sprouted feathers catch the light and your wings move eagerly as you tense the new muscles formed there. Deciding you like them, you practice folding and unfolding them but quickly get the hang of it, finding it much more comfortable to leave them loosely folded - arched to the sky, high over your shoulders, before dipping down to the ground, feeling the lowest of them at the tip of your wing trail along the floor.

"They're new." You mutter, your head darting down to look at your hand as it grazes over something metallic by your side.

You notice it looks a considerable deal like two archangel blades forged onto either side of a mahogany pole, a leather wrap making the wood easier to grip. You like it. It looks like it could really hurt someone.

"All of you is new, like a shiny new toy, all wrapped up just for me." He smirks gleefully, making your stomach twist.

"Did you do it? Is Abby alive and safe?" You ignore his comments, trying instead to divert the conversation.

Your heart breaks in two afresh as her name leaves your lips, the pain of seeing her die. You can only hope he's kept his word and she's alright, maybe she's even forgiven you now. Maybe when this is done...you can actually be a family.

"Of course, I always honour my deals."

"And Jake? You'll let him go?"

"I told you, after this apocalypse thing is over."

"Right, about that. What is your grand master plan for this planet then?" You keep your tone defiant, making sure he knows that you aren't in his camp because you want to be.

"Well firstly, we need to get you out of that hideous shirt; what angel wears plaid?" He grimaces, shaking his head at the flannel you'd stolen from Dean.

Before you can protest however, the clap of his hands colliding sounds and your body is confined within a dress, tight and cold against your skin. It's never what you'd choose to wear. The bodice, although you approve of the fact you couldn't be stabbed through it, is too ornate, attracting too much attention to you which is never a good thing. The material cinches in mid-thigh, limiting your movement which you frown at.