#Lexie’s SPN Birthday Challenge

[deansdirtylittlesecretsblog]

We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes

Title:  We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Characters:  Soulless!Sam x female reader

Word Count:  1058

Warnings:  nsfw, smut, explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, chance of getting caught, tiny bit of angst (seriously, tiny, you have to squint)

Author’s Notes: This was written for @roxy-davenport ‘s SPN Birthday Challenge. I had a variety of prompts I had to include - Soulless!Sam x reader, an interrogation sexual fantasy, a reference to the movie Scream, and the quote "Everyone deserves a second chance." The only thing I really had trouble with was the Scream reference. Let’s see if you guys can find it.  //evil laugh//

You watched as he strode through the door, his suit hanging perfectly off of his fit frame, his tie pulled loose, the top button of his white dress shirt open. He sat on the edge on the table where you were sitting, hovering over you, his presence intimidating, overwhelming.

You fidgeted nervously. “How much longer am I going to be here?” you practically snarled.

“Not much longer,” he shrugged. “Just a few more questions, Miss Y/L/N.”

“I think you’ve asked me enough questions,” you snapped.

“I don’t think I have,” Sam retorted. “I’ll let you know when I’m done with you.” His eyes were empty, his face stoic and uncaring, blank. There was nothing there when he looked at you - nothing of the Sam you’d known. You were still trying to adjust to this new, unreal version of the man you loved. Sam without his soul.

You took a deep breath. You’d agreed to try, telling yourself that everyone deserved a second chance. It had been Sam’s idea to do something that the two of you had done before he’d gone to Hell, something that might make you feel like you still had your Sam in your life. You’d leapt at the chance, choosing the role play fantasy that had been your favorite. You straightened your shoulders, determined to follow through with what you’d started.

“Let me go, Agent Winchester, and I promise to make it worth your while,” you purred, rising slowly from your seat, your fingers dragging along the edge of the table as you moved toward him. You stopped in front of Sam, swallowed back the touch of fear you felt, and put your hands on his thighs.

Sam smiled at you, though it wasn’t the same smile you’d fallen in love with all those years ago - the sweet, innocent puppy dog smile. You brushed his hair from his face, wishing he’d lean into your touch like he’d always done, but instead the smile changed to a smirk, a knowing smirk. You stepped closer, rose up on your toes, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, Agent?” you whispered against his mouth.

He grabbed you around the the waist, lifting you, and in two long strides, he had you against the wall beside the the two-way mirror, his body flush against yours, his mouth on yours, kissing you with intense ferocity.

“Sam -” you gasped, pulling away. “Someone might see us.” You looked pointedly at the video camera on the wall.

Sam glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing slightly before he turned back to you. “It’s off, told ‘em I work better without an audience. No one in the other room either.” He tipped his head toward the glass. “Just you and me.” He caught your lips in his, just as intense, just as greedy. He wanted you.

Screw it. Caution thrown to the wind, you returned the kiss, one hand fisted in the back of his jacket, the other in his hair, his groan of desire when you tugged at it making your body hum with need. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your shirt pulled up in the back, scraping against the bricks, your skirt hiked up around your waist, the hard line of Sam’s arousal rutting against you.

Sam broke off the kiss, pulling away long enough to twist his fingers in your panties, and pull them off with a hard yank, the material digging into your hips for the briefest moment just before the elastic snapped and broke, the flimsy material falling to the ground. He shoved his hand between your legs, two fingers teasing at your entrance.

You moaned, your head falling back and hitting the wall, Sam’s mouth crawling over your neck. He growled, the sound reverberating through both of you, his fingers sinking into you, thrusting and scissoring, stretching you open. He fumbled to open his pants, pulling himself free. He fisted his cock, stroking it several times. He kept one arm around your waist as he lowered you onto his substantial length, both of you groaning as he filled you completely.

Sam held you in place, his hips moving in tight even thrusts, his arm sliding up your back to your shoulder, pulling you down onto him, burying himself deep inside of you. His face was pressed to the side of your neck, his breath hot against your skin, his hair tickling your cheek. He was grunting, slamming into you, the sounds he was making obscene and unbelievably sexy.

You tugged on his hair, drawing another groan from him. He moved faster, fucking you harder, so hard your head and back were slamming into the wall, making for a strange combination of pain and pleasure. Tears were sliding down your cheeks, every emotion possible bubbling to the surface - desire, want, need, love, hate, fear, anger, even sadness. They were crowding your brain, each one jockeying for position,  overwhelming you. Sam looked up at you, catching your lips in his, and for a second, you felt your Sam, felt it in his touch, felt it in his kiss.

The orgasm took you by surprise, a sharp jolt of intense pleasure hitting you out of nowhere, a startled gasp coming from you. You threw your head back, not even feeling it crack against the wall, moaning Sam’s name as the sensations rolled through you.

His fingers dug into your shoulder as he thrust into you several more times, his body going stiff as he let go, his cock pulsing as his seed spilled into you. He kissed you breathless, groaning into your mouth, sweat running down his face and neck.

Sam nipped harshly at your lower lip as he set you on your feet. He stepped back abruptly and tucked himself back into his pants, then he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and tossed it to you, smirking as you tried to pull yourself together. You’d just straightened your skirt when he grabbed you by the upper arms and pushed you back against the wall.

“That was fucking amazing,” he growled, kissing your neck.

“You’re crazy,” you sighed.

“We all go a little mad sometimes,” he replied. He kissed you one more time, bruisingly hard. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

“A little mad,” you whispered. “That about sums it up.”

Forever:  @aprofoundbondwithdean @jensennjared @mrswhozeewhatsis @the-mrs-deanwinchester @official-shipper @brooklyn-writes-flangst @climbthatmooselikeatree @mamapeterson @katnharper @raeganr99 @skybinx-blog @winchesterr67 @grellsutcliff105 @arikas5744 @faegal04 @the-girl-of-your-nightmares @mrsjohnsmith @kreborn17 @mogaruke @courageoussam @nerdwholikesword @growningupgeek @virgosapphire79 @sleep-silent-angel @bkwrm523 @iwriteshortstuff @for-the-love-of-dean @nichelle-my-belle @deandoesthingstome @andiamsoinlovewithyou @pizzarollpatrol @misswhizzy @supernatural-jackles @balthazars-muse @waywardjoy @awkwardnerdqueen @valee-ppiew @superbluhoo2 @deansbaekaz2y5 @roseangel013bf @deanwinchestermybae @jencharlan @kickasscas67 @chelsea072498 @neanealuv @deanscherrypie @kittenofdoomage @tjforston @purgatoan @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @sckslife @sis-tafics @youwerelikeadream @i-dream-of-dean @impala-with-wings @bringmesomepie56 @basmaraafat @oriona75 @dearmisterhiddles @writingbeautifulmen @ultimatecin73 @gemini75eeyore @vote-for-pedro @tom-is-in-my-tardis @percywinchester27 @mysteriouslyme81 @faith-in-dean @that1seniorchick @milkymilky-cocopuff @atc74 @s4m-w1nch3st3r5287 @winsmut @squirrelchester @demonangelimpala @justacaliforniandreamer @xxsugarturtle @findingfitnessforme @wvnchxstxr @winchestergirl-love @petrovadixon @colorfuluniversewhispers @love-kittykat21 @velcr0kitty @spookypeyton @frickfracklesackles @ria132love @shhhs3cret @harleenquinzzel @icantfindacreativeurl @gallifreyansass @anotherotter @kaitlynmarie1120 @giftofdreams @not-moose-one-shots @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @emoryhemsworth @fangirlofeverythingme @goldenolaf25 @nanie5

Sam girls: @anotherwinchesterfangirl @winchestersinthedrift @sammit-janet @blushingsamgirl @withoutaplease @appleschloss @winchester-bait @kayteonline @miss-devonaire @frankiea1998 @samwinchesterfluffandsmut @impalaimagining @ellen-reincarnated67 @isabellarose5150 @saxxxology @lenawiinchester

[thesamcave]

The Babadook

Title: The Babadook

Author: thenanahunter

Characters: Benny Lafitte x Reader

Word Count: 1005

Prompts: Benny x female reader, Blood!Kink, The Babadook (2014), and “You’re my one exception.”

Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Suggestive of Female Receiving Oral, Vampire stuff, and general creepiness.

Author’s Notes: So, I FINALLY finished this, and it’s only 11 days overdue. I wrote this for @roxy-davenport for her Lexie’s SPN Birthday Celebration! A big thanks to @madamelibrarian for beta-ing this for me. I hope you guys like it, and Happy Belated Birthday, Lexie!

The sight of Benny standing on your doorstep in the middle of the night made your heart leap in a mixture of fear, anticipation, and excitement. You knew what his presence meant. Forever, and the end.

If it’s in a word, or it’s in a look…

The vampire slowly turned to the closed door, hearing your shuffling on the other side. He lifted his head to look at the external side of the door’s peephole. It was an intense look. Hungry. Thirsty.

“Hey there, cher,” he spoke just loud enough for you to hear him, “Did ya miss me?”

...you can’t get rid of the babadook…

His rich and lazy, Southern drawl caused bigger chills to run down your spine than the chill from the Winter night air that flowed through the gap under the door, and nipped at your bare toes. The light of the moon almost glinted off the exposed whites of his toothy smirk.

“How did you find me?” you breathed out knowing he’d hear you, your grip on the door handle tightening.

If you’re really clever and you know what it is to see…

“You didn’t make it very hard for me to track you down. The clues had made it pretty easy,” he answered, stepping forward out of the sight.

You stood your ground as he approached, only mere inches of wood separating him from you. You had no idea what ‘clues’ he was referring to.

“Impossible. When I left, I took everything. There was no way that there was something I’d left behind that you’d have been able to use to track me down,” you countered.

Then you can make friends with a special one, a friend of you and me.

“Oh, but you did, Sugar. See for yourself.” Benny pulled a small, empty vial from his pocket that looked like it had contained a red liquid, and held it between his fingers in view of the peephole. He knew that your curiosity would get the better of you. “You tasted so sweet on the way here, sugar. I can’t wait to get in there and taste you. So wet and warm for me,” he purred.

“But I didn’t track you down by scent and blood alone.” He tucked the vial away and shrugged up his jacket. “I had the help from a certain plaid clad hunter.”

His name is Mister Babadook…

Cat should have been your middle name, because you could never resist the temptation of a ‘what if’. Looking out the peephole again your heart sank a little. Of course. Of course he would have kept some of the blood you’d given for him when he was in need. And what easier way to track down someone than with their blood.

Dean. You thought bitterly. He was the only one that would have helped the vampire, considering Sam’s continued dislike for the vamp.

A rumbling sound then 3 sharp knocks.

The knocking on the door startled you out of your thoughts and you stumbled backwards away from it.

ba Ba-ba DOOK! DOOK! DOOK!

The pounding and subsequent crash as wood met wood drew a yelp from your throat, sending you around the corner to the hall leading to your bedroom.

That’s when you know that he’s around. You’ll see him if you look.

You waited, but didn’t hear any footsteps. Not being able to help it, you slowly peeked back, hoping that maybe he’d gone, changed his mind and left you alone. You didn’t have the kind of luck. Slowly, his moonlit silhouette came into view and you  held back a gasp, wishing you could silence your heart as well.

This is what he wears on top. He’s funny, don’t you think?

Benny took three slow steps into your home, removed his cap, and gave you a direct grin. “How nice of you, cher, to let me in.”

The gasp came out then, and you darted to your room, slamming the door behind you. For every two of the haunting steps that neared the bedroom, you took one step back until calves met firm mattress.

See him in your room at night. And you won’t sleep a wink.

Footsteps gave way to silence. Silence was interrupted by drawn out creaking of metal hinges. Benny stood in the doorway, eyes darting around of the room before landing on you, lips pulled into a smirk.

I’ll soon take off my funny disguise...

Benny started to cross the room toward you, slowly slipping out of his jacket, hat already discarded in another part of the house. The jacket landed soundlessly on the carpet and were soon joined by soft thumps of boots. The vampire was in front of you now. Strong, old hands reaching out to wrap around your frame to pull you close.

The room was silent as you stared into each other's eyes. Playtime was over. He looked down at you with a soft, loving smile, and swept a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“You ready for me make good on my promise, cher?” he asked, his thumb running over your pulse point.

“I thought you said that you’d never turn me?” You looked up at him with surprised eyes. Was he serious? Did he really mean it?

“You’re my one exception.” He replied softly and completely serious.

“Then, yes,” you breathed out, and pulled him down to kiss him deeply. You tried to pass every feeling of love, loyalty, and forever into the kiss, while ignoring the scratch of his beard. You would focus on that later when it was burning soft skin lower on your body.

And once you see what’s underneath…

Benny lifted you from the floor and playfully tossed you onto your bed, grinning as you bounced. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt, and pulled it over his head. When his face came back into view, all of his teeth were out, and he gave a growl before pouncing onto the bed after you.

YOU’RE GOING TO WISH YOU WERE DEAD.

[butiaintgonnaloveem]

5, 6, Grab Your Crucifix

Characters/Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader, little bit of OMC Glen x Reader

Word Count: 6676 (side-eyes myself)

Warnings: OK, here goes...language, drinking, possessiveness, violence, biting, rough sex, marking/claiming sex, non-con voyeurism, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (pretend there’s a pill or something of that sort in use)...If I missed something, let me know

A/N: Alright, well, here is my late submission for @roxy-davenport‘s birthday writing challenge. I had the prompts: Demon!Dean, Claiming sex, Nightmare on Elm Street, and the quote “Aren’t you precious?” I had a lot of fun with this one, and went more for the dickish Demon!Dean than evil. Much love and thanks to @kayteonline and @ilsawasanacrobat for the beta work and read-throughs and encouragement! You both rock!!

Hope you enjoy it. Please note the warnings. Feedback and constructive criticism are amazing things, please give them to me.

Year after year, the reason changed, and at first, you meant it. Bartending was supposed to be temporary. Just something to fill your free nights and get some extra cash in your pocket. Now, though, if you were honest, you kept at it because you really enjoyed it. All of it - the fast pace, the free entertainment, and sometimes the company.

Flirting came with the job. The sex? That was where you had to be careful. You didn’t need any overzealous clingy partners hanging around, so you were fairly cautious and discreet, enjoyed more casual flings as they came and went.

Your current FWB, Glen, sat at the end of the bar, out of the way, but close enough that you could still talk and flirt as you worked.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you teased, making up another drink for him.

“Not yet,” he answered with a quick up-down of his eyebrows, making you roll your head back in mock disgust.

“You’re so fucking lame.” You threw a coaster at him and went back to work, flicking off bottle caps and pouring mixers as the bar began to fill. You were scanning the crowd, keeping an eye out for your regulars and anyone looking to flag you down for another drink when you caught sight of him. With that gorgeous face you’d have to struggle to forget, he sat casually at the middle of the bar. He already had a glass in front of him and you wondered how you’d missed him earlier. If you weren’t already warm and flushed from the rush of work, the look he was sending your way would have done it.

You sent a quick glance by Glen, finding him busy chatting with a couple of friends, so you made your way over, filling a few drink orders along the way. His eyes were on you the entire time, one eyebrow lifted and a cocky smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. You wiped your hands on the bar rag stuck in your pocket to cover your nerves.

“Hey stranger.”

“Stranger? That the game you wanna play tonight?”

Your stomach clenched as you did your best to restrain the squirm of desire that threatened to roll through your muscles. You wouldn’t have called him a friend, or even a friend with benefits. Dean was more of a living, breathing fantasy that found his way your bed whenever he was in town. No complaints about it, but the last time he came through, he’d said what seemed like a final goodbye.

“Tempting, but no. Good to see you, Dean. Certainly wasn’t expecting it.” You leaned on your elbows, getting close so you could talk over all the bar noise.

“Well, let me be the first to tell you, life is just full of surprises, Princess.” He swirled his drink before tossing it back, his eyes never leaving you for a second. God. Damn. Him. He looked good, not that you’d ever seen him look bad, but he looked good. Better than last time when he seemed a bit strained and drawn thin.  Now, his hair was longer, face fuller, his shoulders were set in a relaxed curve.

“It certainly is. Refill?” You asked, standing upright while sucking in a tight breath.

“Keep em coming,” he answered, sliding his glass your way. You nodded, grabbed the bottle and gave him a generous pour. You slid it back to him with a wink and watched as he grabbed it from the counter, lifted it to his lips to sip, and then paused. “I, uhh, think someone else is looking for some attention.”

Your eyebrows lifted and mouth dropped open in a dumbfounded expression, not following at first until he tilted his head to the side. You followed his nod until you caught sight of Glen’s face, wearing a look of curiosity mixed with impatience as his eyes jumped between you and Dean.

“Ah-huh. Back to work then,” you looked down, grabbing a towel and sliding it along the bar top as you walked away, busying yourself as you tried to calm the nerves making your stomach churn.

“You okay, babe?” Glen asked when you finally approached him.

“Yeah, just surprised by an old friend,” you smiled.

“Alright,” he reached out and tenderly swiped his thumb over your cheek. You jerked back at the awkward touch of affection with a questioning look. His eyes flickered over your shoulder, drawing out a sigh of annoyance as you pulled away.

“Alright,” you echoed, walking away to check on the ice.

The night swiftly picked up, barely giving you a moment to linger much on either Glen or Dean, though you still managed to stay aware of them both, watching them in your peripherals. Glen spent most of the night goofing off with his friends but you felt the tension building slowly in your shoulders when you noticed him and his buddies slowly migrating along the bar, getting closer and closer to where Dean was seated.

As soon as you realized your situation, your body went into overdrive. It was exhilarating and terrifying, and your ego couldn’t have grown bigger; two willing men. Both eager for your attention and company for the night. Your mind went wild with the fantasy of it all. It was 100% selfish and 1000% stupid, but you greedily wanted to see just how far you could push them, drawing them into a sexually charged game of chicken.

Dean kept your attention with pouting his lips and his low rumble of a voice every time he talked to you, forcing you to lean in to hear him. While your senses were flooded from the vibrations of his words along your skin, and the scent of his body wash, Glen had finally made his way to Dean’s side.

“Hey babe? Babe!” he hollered. Dean pulled away slightly to give him an unimpressed once-over. “Who’s your friend?”

Your heart raced with panic, but you cleared your throat and tried to play it cool. “Glen, this is Dean. Dean, Glen,” you waved your hand between them.

“Well, good to meet ya,” Glen’s mouth widened in a toothy, tipsy grin as he shoved a hand out to shake Dean’s.

“Mmhmm,” Dean hummed, taking Glen’s hand and giving a solid squeeze based on Glen’s grimace. Glen pressed on anyway, making small-talk at Dean while Dean sat there with a bored expression, offering a few nods and sarcastic remarks at Glen and his oblivious  friends.

As he got more and more liquored up, Glen got more forward and handsy, catching you at one point when you stepped out from behind the bar, wrapping his arms around your waist and clumsily tonguing at your ear.

“Can’t wait to get you out of here,” he mumbled. You faked a smile and pulled away, mouthing ‘I need some air’  to one of the other bartenders. She nodded, and you slipped through the back door.

You closed your eyes and leaned against the bricks, letting the crisp air cool your warm skin, listening to the dull noise of the crowd behind the door. The situation was starting to make you feel nauseous. You knew what was coming at the end of the night and didn’t want to have to deal with the uncomfortable situation of making a choice between the two of them. Maybe you could play sick and sneak out without either of them, but that thought just brought a pang of disappointment to your gut, it was selfish, but you honestly didn’t want to miss out on a night of good - really really good - sex.

Glen was a lot of fun, had stamina, and could use his tongue in all the right ways. You’d been hooking up at least once a week for a couple months, it was just fun, no-strings-attached. But Dean - Dean was on a whole other level. The way he handled your body, tortured you with pleasure; he could ruin you for weeks at a time. Your hookups were few and far between, but they were always worth the time.

“Your boyfriend in there sure likes to put on a show.”

You lifted your head away from the wall, eyes fluttering to adjust to the lights again, watching the silhouette of Dean approach you.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Alright. If you say so.” He continued his slow approach, dragging out each step until he was right in front of you. His eyes roamed up and down your frame, lingering at your neck where you were sure your pulse was visibly throbbing. “If he’s bothering you-.”

“No, he’s harmless,” you cut in.

“Obviously.”

“I, should probably get back in there. You sticking around?” You pushed off the wall, bumping into him when he remained still.

“Course. I drove a long way to see you.” He settled his hands at your hips, leaned in and placed featherlight kisses at the line of your jaw, following the curve to your ear and tugging the lobe between his sharp teeth. “This night’s just getting started.” He smacked your hip as he turned to walk back into the bar, leaving you to catch your breath all over again before heading in yourself.

“Nannncy! Naaaaaancy!” Glen’s friends screamed at you to get your attention. You smartly started watering down their drinks about a half hour ago, already annoyed by their drunken enthusiasm. You smiled and nodded as they butchered some joke that you’d already heard a few times until, luckily, some girls pushed up next to them and caught their attention and let you off the hook.

“Nancy? That’s new.” Dean had continued to sit at the bar, unaffected by the tough-guy display Glen and his buddies were playing at. If anything, he seemed to be entertained by it all.

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes, “Once they found out I lived on Elm Street, they thought it would be hilarious to start calling me Nancy. It’s probably the least annoying thing they do, so I just roll with it.”

“I’ll be happy to keep you up all night, don’t want you having any nightmares.”  You couldn’t help but shake your head in disbelief, amused by how he let out cheesy lines with a straight face.

“Thanks, Dean, but I think I’m okay. Haven’t had any big, scary demons show up in my bed yet.”

He ducked his head as he laughed, his tongue pushed against his teeth. “Yet.” His grin widened as he started to sing, “One, two, Dean is coming for you.”

“Oh God, shut up. It’s bad enough with them,” you shoved yourself away from the bar, half annoyed, half laughing. You were in trouble.

The night started to wind down, the bar slowly emptied and you cleaned up. Washing glasses in the sink, you kept an eye on Glen and Dean, waiting and hoping for one of them to clear out, not wanting to face the moment of turning one of them away. Neither of them were backing down, even as you grabbed your things and stepped outside, they stood on either side of you.

Glen broke the ice. “So, Dean, where you staying? Somewhere in town?”

“Y/n always has a warm bed waiting for me.” He answered, sliding a hand along your waist as he smiled at Glen.

The other bartender walked out then, her eyebrows lifted at you with a knowing look. You looked at her with panic in your eyes, your tone high with tension as you asked, pleaded really, “Hey, these guys are coming over for an after bar at my place. You in?”

She shot you a confused look, but agreed.

Glen’s glassy, drunk glare was more sad than intimidating, but he wasn’t quite giving up. He grabbed your hand and tugged you with him. “Great. Let’s go.”

Dean pulled back his shoulders, his patience clearly wearing thin. Glen squeezed your hand and pulled you along as he stumbled up the sidewalk. You turned back to look at Dean. He was walking steadily behind you, eyes narrowed as he watched the back of Glen’s head and so dark they looked black in the shadows. You gave him a helpless shrug, not knowing what to do, not wanting to deal with this, and still stupidly hoping it would resolve itself as you got into the car with Glen.

Too far, you thought, This is too far. For a while, it felt awesome to realize you had two men all over you, both of them wanting to be in bed with you that night, but the reality of it was not as sexy as you imagined. Glen grumbled about pointless shit the whole ride over, complaining about how loud Dean’s car was as he followed close behind. When you reached your place, Glen shoved past you as you opened your door, stomping his way straight into your bedroom, keeping the door propped open.

You went to the kitchen to prepare some drinks as you waited for Dean to make his way in when your phone chimed. You pulled it from your pocket, reading the short text from your friend ‘Sorry girl, not gonna make it, but you have fun ;)’

“Shit.”

“You look a little uncomfortable there, sweetheart.” Dean’s sudden appearance made you jump, making a smirk form on his lips. “Never knew you to be so squirmy.”

He made his way over and reached behind you to grab one of the shots you poured. He swallowed it down and set the glass back in place. He handed you the other shot, then slid his hand to your elbow, lifting it up until the rim of the glass rested at your lips, prompting you to gulp it down. His mouth hung open slightly as he watched you lick the stray drops of liquor from your lips before he took the glass from you, carelessly dropping it on the counter behind you. He moved slowly, keeping his shoulders squared in front of you, his eyes tipped down to stare into yours as he let his presence fill rest of the empty space in the room. You stared back, letting him read the neediness written all over your face. Without a word, he took your hand in his and you followed along dumbly as he made his way out of the kitchen and toward your guest room.

Once in the room, he let go of your hand and walked to the bed, sitting on the corner as he started to tug off his boots. The bit of distance allowed your senses to return.

“Well, good night, Dean.”

He hummed after letting out a breath of laughter, standing tall again and taking steps toward you. You stumbled backwards, surprised by his quick movement. You hands reached blindly behind you, fumbling to find the wall or doorframe to steady you, but you misjudged your spot and hit the edge of the door, setting it swinging. Your body slipped against it, doing the rest of the work to slam it shut behind you. Your feet finally stopped tripping you up as your back hit the door, allowing you to lean against it as Dean continued his slow advance.

“Where you going, Nancy?” he asked, wearing a shit-eating grin. He started to hum as he reached out for the doorknob, then he sang, “Three, four, better lock your door.”

You scoffed, the trance broken as you rolled your eyes. “You’re being stupid.”

“No, you’re being stupid, Thinking you could play that game all night.”

Your eyes widened, but you still tried to play innocent. “What are you talking about?”

“What did you think was gonna happen? Hmmm? Were you gonna try to get us both in bed, or maybe we’d take turns? Really take our time with you and satisfy some dirty little fantasy? Or…” His hand gripped your hip, yanking you against him, “Maybe you just wanted one of us to go all alpha male and just take you?”

You swallowed thickly, choking back a whimper, but not quietly enough. Dean smiled in delight at your obvious distress.

“Ohhhh, aren’t you precious?”

Your hands clutched at his shirt, “Dean,” you whined, “Glen’s still here.”

He tilted his head toward you then shifted from side to side. Like a magnet, you mouth trailed his every movement until he nudged his way to you ear, talking to you in a low growl. “I’m gonna let you in on a secret - I don’t give a damn, and honestly, I don’t think you do, either.”

Your knees shook, threatening to buckle beneath you.

“You want him to hear you, huh? Getting fucked?”

“Dean,” you cried in a low groan.

“Now, that’s a start.” He quickly dipped his head down to your neck, his lips and tongue going to work against your skin. A giggle escaped you at the first, light sensations from his lips, but when he started to use his teeth, you sucked in a loud gasp. He sucked lightly as he pinched your skin in a full-on bite to the side of your neck, as if he were trying to take a chunk out of you.

One hand grasped his shoulder, pushing him away, the other fist was balled up in his shirt, pulling him closer to you. The painful pleasure of it all sent a current right through you to your already pulsing womanhood. The jolt of pleasure made you slam your head against the door, then hiss at the pain the bounced through your skull.

You could hear the dull footsteps from the other room as they made their way to stop outside the door. The rapid pounding against it shook your body. Your mouth snapped shut and you finally pulled Dean’s mouth away from you.

“Hey babe, you alright? Thought I heard something?” Glen asked in a tone void of any real concern.

You looked up at Dean, feeling caught like a deer in headlights, frozen and not knowing what to do. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in with a snarl, “This is what you wanted wasn’t it?” His hips jerked into you, pinning you harder against the door.

Though it didn’t really hurt, you let out a soft, “Ouch,” from instinct.

“Hey man, you better cut out whatever you’re doing in there. You fucking hurt her, I swear…” Glen trailed off from the other side of the door. The floorboards creaked beneath him as he shifted back and forth.

“Or, maybe you were waiting for Gleny to step up? See if he’d be willing to fight for you?” He grunted and moved his mouth to the other side of your face, breaths coming out hot and damp against your skin. “You were throwing your ass around all night like some bitch in heat.”

Glen pounded on the door again, “Come on, Y/n, get out of there and let’s go to bed. I’ll forget this all happened.”

Dean stood up tall again, chest heaving and jaw clenching. He stared you down, eyes narrowed into a glare. His voice rose, not quite to a shout, but still loud enough to be intimidating, “Well, come on princess, tell me what you want?”

Your chest heaved, voice caught in your throat as your spine turned to jelly from the lust coursing through you. You were just lifting your leg to wrap it around Dean’s hip, when the door started to push against your weight. Glen had picked the lock from the outside and was working on barging into the room. Dean’s lips twitched in a snarl as he glanced to the jiggling door, then back to you.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dean. You,” you rushed out in a single breath. He gripped your bicep, pulling you from the door and practically flinging you behind him, letting Glen fall through the door as it finally gave way.

He glared at Dean as best he could with his unfocused eyes, all drunk, cocky bravado. “You need to get the fuck outta here, man.” He looked past Dean to you, his gaze dropping immediately from your face to your neck and the mark Dean had left with his teeth and lips. His nostrils flared in anger and lips curled back to bare his teeth, “You bitch!” He started to jump at you, but was easily stopped by Dean; his knee connecting with Glen’s stomach.

He coughed and wheezed, the air knocked from him at the impact, but he got back to his feet to try to swing at Dean anyway. Dean grasped Glen’s wrist, twisting it and his arm behind his back until he winced and cried out.

“Nuh uh uh. The lady made her choice.” He started to walk him to the door. You followed them out of the room, watching at Dean nearly dragged Glen from your place as he spoke low and quietly into his ear. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but whatever it was pissed Glen off. Glen jerked back his head, attempting to catch Dean with a knock from his skull, but Dean dodged it with a chuckle. He opened your door, releasing Glen’s arm as he spun him around, letting his arm cock back before coming forward to connect with Glen’s cheek. The sound of skin and bones colliding made you flinch, but you didn’t move as the scene played out. Keeping still as a statue as Dean shoved Glen through the doorway, then slammed the door shut, flicking all the locks. It was honestly a terrifying show of masculinity, over the top and unnecessary, but for all the flips your stomach was doing, you couldn’t help the way the terror mixed with desire. It made you lightheaded and even more desperate, and you couldn’t have been more grateful to have Glen out of the way.

His chest heaved as he caught his breath, wiping sweat and spit from above his lip. He pivoted in your direction, head tilted like a predator, eyes once again looking black in the soft lamplight.

“Now you’re all mine.”

Your stomach lurched as the words thrilled through you. Dean was looking more and more like all he wanted to do was eat you alive. Your body was crippled with want, just from a few looks and those four words. Tremors shook your muscles as he made his way back to you. Your legs threatened to give out from under you, but he reached you quickly, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against him. He charged his way into your bedroom, using his strong arms the the momentum to fling you onto the bed.

Panic rushed you for a few seconds as you lost your bearings, but once you bounced onto the bed, you giggled with relief and exhilaration. You could faintly hear Glen shouting from somewhere outside, and somehow rational thought managed to come back to you.

“You didn’t have to hit him, you know. I told you he was harmless.”

Dean swayed a little, letting a cocky grin pull at the corner of his mouth as he slid off his button-up shirt. “I know.”

“What did you say to him?”

“Worried I hurt his feelings? Just something about how an eternity in hell would be nothing compared to what I'd do if I saw him here again.”

You tisked at him, “I wasn’t going to sleep with him tonight.”

“I know. Not tonight or ever again, really.” Your jaw dropped, making him chuckle. “Did you really think I’d let anyone else fuck you?”

You bit your lip and shook your head from side to side.

“Get undressed,” he ordered as he slipped his shirt over his head. You propped yourself up on your elbows, dragging your eyes up and down as he worked on his belt. No shame, no embarrassment, he knew what he could do with that body and was ready to get going. You still had your lip between your teeth when he snapped his fingers at you, pulling you from your daze. “What are you doing?”

You let go of your lip, pushing your jaw out in defiance, “Well,” you taunted, “I’m waiting for you to say the magic word.”

He gave you another smug smile as he bent down and crawled over you onto the bed until he had you caged beneath him. “Baby, I’m done playing games.”

Your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, your back arched in anticipation. “Oh really?”

“Mm hmm,” he lowered his face close to yours, brushing his lips against your neck.

“I don’t believe you.” You teased as you shoved at his shoulders, playfully attempting to push him off of you, but he was too solidly grounded. Instead, you ended up sliding yourself further up the bed. With his face level with your chest, he looked up at you from under his brow, his stare rabid and intense. You could feel the heat coming off him; his body coiled, ready to strike. It excited you that you were getting him so riled up, the anticipation made you reckless as you pushed further, “In fact. Dean, I think you liked putting on that little show, marking your territory and all that.”

His lips parted, and you caught a brief glimpse of the tip of his tongue running along the edge of his teeth. “Not a show, darlin,” he said with an impatient roll of his jaw. The cockiness you’d felt earlier edged to the surface again. You opened your mouth to taunt him some more, your words cut short in a loud moan as he sunk his teeth into the skin over your collarbone. His lips suctioned around the blunt edge of his bite, providing a softness to contrast with the sharp sting.

Once again, the feeling sent pleasure rushing through you, the pain lingering just at the edge of too much. He pulled away with a smacking sound, then slid the tip of his tongue over the red indentations from his teeth and watched you try to catch your breath, mouth wide and chest shuddering. He inhaled sharply before diving down again, further down your chest, but not quite at the swell of your breast. Pulling the sensitive skin into a smaller pinch between his front teeth as you choked out a moan.

It was all the encouragement he needed to keep going. His hands gripped the top hem of your shirt, pulling and splitting it down the center, the fabric making a loud sound as he ripped it out of his way. His mouth moved along your chest, sometimes kissing, other times sucking as he let his lips roam over your skin. He dragged the stubble on his chin down the center, along your breastbone, scratchy and rough and igniting the sensitivity of the skin there before opening his mouth, and taking the soft start of your cleavage between his teeth.You curved your back up as he slid his hands behind you to unclasp your bra. All the while, pulling and sucking until his teeth left a bright, deep, nearly oval mark.

Over and over he repeated his actions, littering your chest and stomach with marks, sometimes digging his teeth deep into the skin until you lifted up off the bed, a string of high-pitched “Ah ahh ahhh’s” coming from your lips. You could already feel the spots that would be more sensitive, the ones that would ache from just a touch, but you were so wrapped up in the pleasure he brought with that pain, that you didn’t care. Your nipples were the only places he kept his teeth from. There, he swirled his tongue around your hardened peaks, sucking pressure and flicking his tongue at the sensitive tips.

Your body was pliant, your arms had fallen to the sides as you writhed beneath him. Your hips rocked constantly against nothing aside from the friction you could get from the tightness of your jeans. Your fingers twitched and clenched into fists as he toyed with you, constantly switching between the drag of his facial hair, the softness of his lips, the wetness of his tongue and the edges of his teeth.

Once he’d made his way from neck to hips, he pulled away, smacking his lips, “Told you, you’re mine.”

Your throat was dry from the constant gasping and whining, but you tried to push out words anyway, “G..Guh-od...Dean,” you rasped. You glanced down at your torso, some marks light and blotchy, others already going dark - all shaped like Dean’s mouth. You pushed your thighs together to satisfy the urgent need for pressure against your clit, your underwear a soaking mess beneath your jeans. You swallowed to regain some moisture in your throat and lifted your hands to wrap around Dean’s neck. “Sweet fucking hell, Dean, what did you do?”

“Oops,” he shrugged. He reached down to the waistline of your pants, skimming his fingers just under the hem.

“Fahh-uck,” you whined. His fingers slid the button through its hole and tugged the zipper, working to tug off your pants. You stared at the miles of Dean's skin that spanned from shoulder to shoulder, his body broad and thick, and thought about returning the favor. Imagined the give and pull of his skin and muscles as you dug your teeth into them. Thought about how he'd taste - salty, a little earthy like the outdoors. You started to run your tongue over your teeth, like you were preparing them for a meal, lips smacking in delight.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a muted voice outside. After a few solid seconds of concentration, you were able to recognize it as Glen ranting outside - loud and belligerent. Dean cocked his head toward the noise as well as his lips rose in a playful grin.

“Okay, now it’s a show.”

He got off the bed and pushed open your window, just slightly, but enough to let the sound travel a little clearer. He stepped back to the bed and gripped the top of your jeans and panties, stripping them down your legs and drawing from you a surprised squeal and nervous giggle. You were worried about being distracted by the shouting from outside, but as soon as Dean started to rub his hands on the insides of your legs, spreading them apart, you couldn’t hear much beyond your own pants and gasps.

He dove right in - no teasing kisses or licks, nothing slow and easy about his pace, just lips and tongue lapping at your pussy, smearing your slick all over his mouth and your inner thighs. You curled up in an attempt to pull away from the overwhelming heat and sensations against your swollen, sensitive core, but his fingers dug into your thighs keeping you tightly against him and dragging a high-pitched whine from your throat. All of it too much too fast; overstimulation made you lose control as you tried to relax into the pleasure he was giving you from the pressure of his tongue against your clit.

You let out soft cries of jumbled words, unable to complete a single one of them past the first sound. Your fingers dragged over his scalp, tugging at the hair and trying to pull him up, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he began to suck your clit into his mouth as the tip of his tongue flicked back and forth. Your hips lifted and fell, pushing against him, then pulling away as a some feral feeling settled inside you. Any thoughts aside from chasing the nearly painful pleasure that was building between your legs disappeared. Your hands slipped from his hair to your thighs, dragging your fingertips over the skin, drawing long, red stripes. It drew the focus just enough from what Dean was doing to let you tumble over the edge and enjoy the pleasure. A rush of satisfaction hit you as your pussy convulsed with each wave. Dean remained between your legs, languidly licking and sucking down the new flood of wetness as you came. Humming and growling to himself as you let out loud sobs of pleasure.

After a moment, Dean decided he was done, lifting himself from your core and drawing in a deep, satisfied breath. He stood up to his full height, looking down at your flushed and marked skin with a proud expression, taking his time as he looked you over from head to toe.

“Dean, come on,” you begged, fingers lazily reaching for him. He was taking too long as the heat was sucked away by the breeze from the open window.

He was already working on undoing his pants, but still teased, “What?”

“Are you gonna get over here, or what?” He let his pants drop, lifted one foot at a time to step out of them, all the while acting like he hadn’t heard you. “Dean?”

“Hmmm?” He stared you down with his eyebrow cocked, but you couldn’t stop from dropping your gaze to his hard cock, now on full display and throbbing.

“Fuck me.” you breathed, soft and timid.

“Louder.” He demanded.

You cleared your throat, raising the volume of your voice a little. “Fuck me, please?”

“Nuh-uh. Louder.” He settled his hands on your bent knees.

“Deeaann,” you groaned.

“Want him to hear you. I’ll fuck you good and hard. Baby, I’m going to split you in two.” He shuffled up between your legs until you you could feel the heat from his body and the head of his cock just barely skimmed at your sex. “But you gotta get louder for me.”

You leveled him with a look of desperation, your chest felt constricted with each heavy breath you pulled in. Dean stared down at you with an expectant tilt, and lips hanging open, just watching and waiting you out. His shoulders lifted and fell as he huffed impatiently. He reached down, grabbed his cock and rubbed it along your slit, making your shoulders curl as you clenched in anticipation. His eyebrows lifted as if to prompt your response.

“Dean!” your voice cracked as it finally rose in volume, “God, justfuckme!”

Satisfied with your shouting plea, his tilted his hips to fix the angle, lining the head of his cock with your entrance and plunged himself inside. Your back bridged up from the mattress at the intrusion. Your knees tightened around his hips. A loud, breathy keen escaped your lips while he grunted as he filled your slick, hot pussy, walls tightly clamping around him.

Your chest spasmed making you choke on gasps as you tried to catch your breath. When you could finally breathe again, you started to whine for more, “Yes, Dean!” gasp “More!”

He began to pull out of you in a slow, torturous drag. You couldn’t stop yourself as you tried to wiggle your body with him trying to keep him inside of you, but he had all the leverage, and he held you down by your hips, palms pinching right against the bones with heavy pressure.

“What's that?” He stopped, holding himself right at your entrance. You could feel the pulse of his cock, hard and swollen and just as ready as you were.

You didn’t care who heard at the point, as long as Dean would keep driving his cock into you. So, you licked your lips, took a deep breath and shouted, “Dean! Fuck! Yes!”

He pushed back into you with a growl, then pulled back again with a breath sucked in through his teeth, only to growl again with the next plunge. He kept a steady, hard pace, slamming his hips against your wide-spread thighs; releasing a constant string of animalistic grunts and groans with every deep push into you.

Your hands gripped his wrists as he held down your hips, grabbing what you could to add to the tug and pull between your bodies. Unable to reach any more as he held you down. As the burning heat from his rough pace faded away, you again began to feel the tingling sensation from overwhelming pleasure taking hold low in your belly. Your muscles bunched tightly as the blissful feeling started to build up and up, sending out short waves of satisfaction through your core.

Your mouth dropped open into a constant “O” shape as a never-ending string of “Ohhh’s” and “Ahhh’s” and yelps of enjoyment were drawn from you. Both of you feeding off of each other - Dean pounding into you harder the louder you got, and you getting louder to encourage him even more.

Both of you were slick with sweat, skin burning and overheating from the exertion in your muscles. He started to breathe in and out in uneven pants and light hums of satisfaction rumbled deep in his chest.

“You gonna come for me? Hmm? Gonna scream for me?” He sprawled his hand out, spreading his fingers from your hipbone to your clit, dragging your wetness over it in hard circles.

You snapped your teeth over your bottom lip, your back again tightening and bowing from the buzz of stimulation. You nodded and hissed out, “Yes - yesyesyesyessss!”

He picked up the pace, rolling his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves. You could again feel the pressure building almost painfully, your mind switched between panic and contentment at the overpowering feelings. You pulled your hands away from his forearms, fingers aching and cramping from the tight grip you had on him. Straightening them out, you trailed them over yourself, from hips to your breasts, flinching on occasion when you brushed against one of the more sensitive bite marks he had left on your torso. Cupping yourself, you ran your fingers over your nipples, still sensitive and ticklish from when Dean had stimulated them earlier.

Your body was quickly reaching toward its peak. Dean pushed himself into you over and over, his pace faltering as he tried to dig deeper inside of you with each thrust. A shout of, “C’mon, Y/n!” thundering out from him.

You inhaled a sharp, short breath as your orgasm began to flicker through you; a quick pulse of heat and rush of relief and then you were wailing, “Dean! Oh, fuck! Dean!” Your voice going hoarse. Your body shivered and convulsed with bliss while Dean continued to pump into you, his own voice strained as he let out low “Oh’s” and hums, spilling himself inside of you with heavy pulses through his cock.

You both stilled, going nearly limp as you sucked in air to catch your breath. Everything suddenly felt too hot on your burning skin, but you were also too blissed out to do anything about it.

“Well,” he smacked his lips.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

He let his softening dick slip out of you, ignoring the mess as he mounted his arms to your sides and leaned over you, a delighted, cocky smile showing off his teeth.

“I guess that’s one way to get rid of a boyfriend.”

“Ugh,” you sneered, “He wasn’t my boyfriend.” You moved to push Dean off of you, but your hands just slipped over his slick skin.

Dean’s eyes glinted with mischief as he lowered his head, his mouth grazing over yours, “I’m your boyfriend now, Nancy,” he taunted, then licked his tongue across your lips.You flung your head back away from him.

“Augh, gross Dean,” but you couldn’t help the giggles that broke through, the euphoria still floating through your system as you wiped away his saliva with the back of your hand, “Cut it out.”

He dropped the smile and his face changed into a dark, serious expression. He shifted his weight to one arm and from the corner of your eye, you saw him slide the other one down, curious about where it was traveling to until you felt the weight of it resting against your soaked folds, his  fingers sliding up and down.

“De-ee..ean,” you stuttered.

He chuckled, as he lowered his lips to your ear, taunting you by humming the melody until he started to sing. “Nine, ten, never sleep again.”

Have a tag, princess:

@mogaruke @feelmyroarrrr @kayteonline @seenashwrite @notnaturalanahi @aprofoundbondwithdean @attractiverandomness @mrswhozeewhatsis @deathtonormalcy56 @kittenofdoomage @supernatural-jackles @luci-in-leather @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @babypieandwhiskey @brewsthespirit-blog @mysaintsasinner  @impala-dreamer @sis-tafics @littlegreenplasticsoldier @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @ultimatecin73 @mrsjohnsmith @bringmesomepie @anokhi07 @deandoesthingstome @growningupgeek @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @ceeceewinchester @sharingan-rasengan-chidori @plaidstiel-wormstache @chaos-and-the-calm67 @faith-in-dean @helvonasche @revwinchester @fandommaniacx @dr-dean

[luciisthebest]

Psycho

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Summary: There’s a case to be solved but is it really ghosts or just some crazy human??

Warnings: Smut (I’m sorry), blood, violence, someone dies.

Word Count: 1,136

A/N: This is for @roxy-davenport’s SPN Birthday Celebration. I hope you enjoy hun and happy belated birthday.

“Dean! Dean! Are you even listening to me?“

Dean turned to you looking annoyed. “I was listening.”

Dean’s eyes flashed black in annoyance. “I’m telling you that’s not a case. It’s just a typical crime. Now why don’t you stay here with me and we can have a little fun.” Dean moved closer to you, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

Part of you wanted to give in, the look in Dean’s eyes promised you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams. But you couldn’t, you had to take care of this case. “You know what? I’m actually pretty hungry, I think I’m gonna go get some food. Be right back.” You snatched your keys off the table and dashed out the door.

Quickly getting into the car you started the engine. You had no intentions of getting food. Dean would be furious with you, but he had his chance. Hitting the gas, you sped out of the parking lot.

~~~~~

It had been several hours since you had left the motel. Your phone had rang several times, and finally you just turned it off. Dean didn’t have the capacity to actually care about you, it was more the fact that you had slipped out of his grasp and that pissed him off.

Dean had been your boyfriend before he had turned into a demon. Now he was a monster. You knew Dean killed and served Crowley, yet you couldn’t force yourself to give him up to Sam.

Peering out of the window you saw the sign of the hotel you were in search of. It was in the middle of nowhere and definitely looked like a place where ghosts would hang out.

Getting out of your car you walked into the front office. A man stood behind the desk and looked surprised to see a visitor.

“I’d like a room for a few nights.” You smiled gently at him. The man just shifted awkwardly before handing you a key. “Don’t I have to pay?” You questioned thinking it was odd he didn’t ask for a payment.

“Oh um no. We um… have our guests pay when they check out.” The man stuttered as his face flushed with embarrassment.

“Oh, ok. Well have a good night.” Not receiving a response, you turned and walked out. What an odd man, sure this place was a little off the beaten path, but he was extremely weird.

Opening the door to your room, you rolled your eyes. Talk about cheesy decor, this place could have used an update about 20 years ago. There wasn’t much that you could do tonight, in the morning you could begin to look around. Hopefully you would be able to finish this case up quickly, and then you were going to have to prepare one hell of an apology for Dean.

Sitting around stressing yourself out about Dean wasn’t going to help anyone. Grabbing your bag you headed to the bathroom. A shower would help you relax and wash away all your worries away. You quickly slipped out of your clothes and turned the water on.

Over the sound of running water you heard a small creak but dismissed it. Stepping under the water, you let out a soft sigh of contentment. The hot water instantly began to make your body relax. There were very few times when you could feel this relaxed and it felt absolutely amazing. Letting the warm water run down your body, you rested your head on the tiled wall.

That was when A knife came plunging through the shower curtain. Screaming, you frantically tried to move away from the blade. You couldn’t see who wielded the knife and there was no escape. You then began to prepare yourself for death, there was no way for you to get out of this one. Fighting would be pointless and you didn’t have any weapons. Closing your eyes you waited for the blow to come. To your surprise you heard the sound of a knife plunging into flesh but it was not your own.

Opening your eyes, you watched as blood sprayed the shower curtain. It was gruesome and horrifying but all you could do was stand there, shivering in the cold water.

Without warning the shower curtain was ripped to the side. A scream rose up in your throat until you realized that it was Dean standing in front of you. A very pissed Dean covered in blood and eyes black as death.

Dean grabbed you by the arm and yanked you out of the shower. You glanced down at the dead body on the floor and realized that it was the man who had checked you in. “Oh my god he…” you trailed off realizing what he had planned to do.

“Yeah, if you had fucking stuck around we would have figured out that it wasn’t a ghost but a psychopath with a real hard-on for Psycho.” Dean glared at you his eyes still black.

“I-I” was all you could get out. Something about Dean being covered in blood and angry turned you on. It was making it hard for you to think and Dean knew it.

Spinning you around, he pinned you to the bathroom wall. Dean glanced down at his jeans and then smirked at you. "Take em' off."

"What?" You asked in surprise.

"You heard me. Take. Em'. Off. Now." Dean growled at you.

Not wanting to push your luck, you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans as quickly as you could. Realizing he wasn't wearing anything under his jeans you eagerly pushed his jeans down.

With a satisfied smirk, Dean grabbed you by the arm and spun you around, pushing your face up against the tiled wall. "I’m going to make sure you remember who you belong to.” He growled and then roughly thrust into you. There was nothing gentle about the way Dean was thrusting into you, this wasn’t for you. He was punishing you for leaving him and making it known that he owned you.

Biting your lip you tried to silence your moans as he continued to pound into you. "You like that? You like being fucked by me after I just murdered a man?”

A loud moan escaped your lips in response. “Fuck!” Dean groaned as he snapped his hips faster. “Come for me.” He growled in your ear. You let out scream, your body complying to his order. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over you as he continued fucking you. His thrusts soon became sloppy and frantic and you knew he was close. With a few more thrusts he came, filling you.

“You are mine, and don’t you ever fucking leave me again sweetheart.” Dean whispered in your ear. Without another word he quickly tucked himself back into his jeans and walked out of the bathroom.

Tags:

@mogaruke, @msimpala67, @amanda-teaches, @percussiongirl2017, @tomorraw, @meganwinchester1999, @ria132love, @lucifer-in-leather

[webcricket]

It’s Only Castles Burning

Pairing: CastielXReader

Word Count: 4745 

Summary: Established CastielXReader. Powered up with the souls of purgatory, Castiel forsakes his friends, exacts punishment upon his foes in Heaven, and begins to do God’s work on Earth. Feared by everyone he encounters, he seeks out the only person who ever seemed to truly understand his motives as hitchhiker leviathans progressively overpower his will and corrupt his vessel from within.

A/N: One-shot written for @roxy-davenport​​ / Lexie’s SPN Birthday Challenge with prompt pairing Leviathan!Cas X Fem!Reader (see also Godstiel and Dom!Cas), claiming, biting smut, movie Amityville Horror 2005 (in which Cas’ vessel is the metaphorical evil house), and quote “Get your hands off her!” Written erotica content warning – specifically, oral (male receiving), pinned spooning, and mentions of cowgirl/denied orgasm. Italicized quotes are direct excerpts from SPN episode 7X01 Meet the New Boss and 7X02 Hello, Cruel World and are not mine – fic is set during the time period of these episodes with canonically dark themes and descriptions of physical violence consistent with Cas’ character arc and the leviathans. All things considered, I think I managed to keep it a tiny bit fluffy (you know, considering what happens in 7X02).

Scanning the pallid faces of the Winchesters and Bobby Singer, Castiel perceived only fear. These humans he once called friends did not love him, did not respect him.

“Stop, what’s the point if you don’t mean it. You fear me, not love, not respect, just fear.”

Castiel won – victor in the battle for Heaven and Earth against Raphael. In affront to the misgivings of his so-called friends, he also managed to out-maneuver the King of Hell at his own manipulative game. Castiel deserved this power – this glory, and they had the audacity to deny it to him. The betrayal disappointed him, but the frustration of utter terror radiating from their souls rather than awe of his newfound authority infuriated the seraph turned God. However, Castiel was a just and merciful God, and although disloyalty demands justice, these men were one-time allies - flawed men deserving of mercy.

“Be thankful for my mercy.”

Despite their indiscretions, he spared their lives with a warning he knew they were not likely to heed.

“I hope for your sake this is the last time you see me.”

“Bobby, slow down,” woozy from a precipitous rush of adrenaline, you sat on the edge of the musty motel bed, worn springs creaking in recoil.

“That idjit opened purgatory and drank every last soul. Now he’s juiced up and calling himself the new God,” Bobby’s exasperated voice exclaimed over the tinny speaker of the phone held in your wobbly hands.

You absorbed the news, the beginnings of a relieved grin sprawling across your features. Cas told you of his plan, and you supported him however you could, even splitting alliances with the brothers and the old hunter on account of your romantic involvement with the angel. Sure, you had doubts about him acting behind the backs of Sam and Dean, but this was about the greater good, and the brothers were a stubborn lot - leaving out certain details saved valuable time, and stopping the next apocalypse was infinitely more important than the Winchesters’ hurt feelings. Amorously skewed loyalties aside, Cas presented the best game plan and you backed him.

“You hearing me, girl?” Bobby’s tone rose an octave, snapping your awareness to the present.

“Yeah, got it, new God. What about Raphael?” You queried - after all, eliminating the archangel was the whole point of the crazy endeavor. If he was still out there, inciting the angels to rise against humanity, the danger hadn’t yet passed.

“Bloody writing on the wall,” the old hunter grumbled.

“And Crowley?” You wondered, already gathering Cas must have duped Crowley too. You’d anticipated the scheming king double crossing him, reminding the angel he had a tendency to be too trusting and that the former crossroad’s demon always had a loophole when it came to power grabs.

“In the wind,” Bobby answered.

“Damnit Bobby, he did it! I knew he would!” You didn’t attempt to mask the unleashing of joy - you were proud of your angel. Silence answered your triumphant exclamation and celebratory squeals. Rolling your eyes derisively, you muttered into the phone, “Bobby, look. I know you and those boys don’t agree with the method, but what’s the problem? All’s well that ends-”

“Y/N, he’s got to be stopped. You didn’t see him, it’s not Cas anymore,” Dean’s gruff voice interrupted.

“Dean,” you spoke his name through gritted teeth. “Stopped?” You instantly realized where Dean was going with this - he intended to use you to get to the angel, “So you’re calling me ‘cause you think I’m the chink in his armor, right?”

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but yeah, if the shoe fits,” Dean replied. “He might let his guard down with you, even now. I know how you feel about him Y/N, but-”

“What do you expect me to do Dean, bat my lashes, say come hither, and stab him in the heart with an angel blade?” You spat, vitriolic.

“Sam already tried it. Didn’t work,” Dean stated flatly, without remorse.

Bristling with fury at his nonchalance, you jumped to your feet, stomping across the dank carpet, snarling into the receiver, “You tried to kill him? Castiel? Our Cas? You tried to kill him and now you’re asking for my help to do the same. After everything he’s done for us, for you. It wasn’t enough for you to refuse to support him when he needed you the most, when he begged you for your help, now you want him dead. No Dean, I can’t...I’ll never help you hurt him. I’d sooner die!”

“That may be exactly what happens the next time you see him, sweetheart.”

“He left you alive after you tried to kill him. Makes him a better man than me,” you retorted with a snort. Dean was wrong. Castiel’s heart perpetually dwelt in the right place, why couldn’t Dean understand? You picked absent-mindedly at the peeling wallpaper beside the window, inhaling a quietening breath, intent on winning the hunter over to your opinion, “Come on Dean, it’s Cas. He’d never hurt us.”

“Wouldn’t he? Try telling that to Sam. His mind’s broken,” Dean groused. “You didn’t see him. All that power. Y/N, it changed him.”

“He’d never hurt me,” you murmured, knuckles tensed cold and white around the phone as your hand slumped to your side. You felt sorry for Sam, you sincerely did. But the angel would never harm you, he loved you – he’d told you as much before the eclipse when he tucked you safely away in this warded motel room in case he failed - in case Raphael sought vengeance or Crowley got vindictive. You knew power could change people, but Cas wasn’t people. If he was calling himself God, if he didn’t fix Sam, then he must have a very good reason. Dean was biased, judgement clouded, he would always choose his brother over everything else. Embracing free will, Cas chose you. Exercising free will, you chose Cas. You trusted the angel implicitly, reiterating under your breath, “Never.”

Dean’s defeated warning pierced the quiet, “Yeah, well I guess we’ll see about that. I suggest you lay low, stay off his radar. Find somewhere safe, ward it for all the good it will do. And Y/N, when he shows up, when you finally understand, you know where to find us.”

Lip twitching indignantly, you swiped the screen of the phone, ending the call - as if you would ever hide from the angel to whom you’d given your heart. Gaze rising to the water-stained ceiling, directing your longing heavenward, you prayed, “Castiel?”

The new God first restored order in Heaven. If the demonstration of his righteous leadership and consequences for insubordination required the sacrifice of thousands of disloyal angels, he could only view those brethren as inconsequential collateral damage in the grander scheme.

“Be obedient children.”

With this stern cautioning, Castiel sensed a resounding shudder of angelic trepidation. Here he was, assuming the vacant role of their father, selflessly accepting the responsibility to guide and nurture them, something they’d yearned for – and where love and fidelity should reside, there existed only a thinly veiled terror. It didn’t make sense, his brothers and sisters should be exultant, not ungrateful. Tone tempered, attempting to allay their doubts, he decreed.

“Rejoice.”

Three full days, a tad beyond 72 hours since Bobby’s phone call, a dozen ignored calls from Sam and Dean, and still Castiel failed to answer your litany of prayers. Dithering betwixt fitful slumber and anxious wakefulness, you tossed uncomfortably on the worn mattress, flinging off threadbare sheets, skin sticky and sheened with sweat on account of the air conditioner having broken the night before. The manager offered you a new room, but you refused to leave – this is where Cas left you, and here you would remain.

“Y/N.”

Eyes popping open, legs flailing, you scrambled backward in alarm, shoulder blades knocking on the headboard, which, being screwed into the wall, was the only thing in this Godforsaken roach nest that didn’t creak when you touched it.

Castiel lingered in shadow near the window, passively observing as you blinked the sleep from your eyes.

“Cas? Cas!” Leaping off the bed at the angel, you draped your arms about his immovable frame, peppering his mouth and jaw with relieved kisses. So overcome with elation, you didn’t notice his failure to return your affection, “I was so worried, Dean said-”

Cas’ eyes narrowed at the mention of that name, roughly grabbing you by the upper arms to peel you off his body. He wondered if he had dallied too long in his return, if Dean had already poisoned you against him.

You wriggled in protest at the loss of contact, clutching the lapels of his trench coat, imploring, “Cas, what’s wrong?”

Brow furrowed, he cocked his head almost imperceptibly to the left, austerely regarding you, eyes glinting dangerously red in the harsh light of the neon motel vacancy sign bleeding through the paper thin curtains. “Kneel,” he commanded, the subtle tensing of his stubbled jaw suggesting he expected you to refuse, to disappoint him as all the others had.

Focus locked on his dark gaze, legs weakened by awakening arousal, you did not hesitate to comply, dropping to your knees, suggestively trailing your fingertips down the front of his body as you did so. Staring up in expectant silence, your heart pounded, every beat resounding with adoration and love. Dean was wrong. Cas stood before you, your Cas, peering at you through those same expressive sapphire eyes – not a single facet of color shined upon you with malice. You held no fear in your heart of the angel.

The lines of his face softening incrementally, he reached out. Extending long fingers to brush your cheek - he felt no recoil from his touch, recognized no anxiety in your features, and distinguished only devotion toward him dwelling within your soul. He would never tell you he intentionally avoided you these past few days, unaware himself that he was petrified of your potential reaction, of seeing the same fear he saw in Sam and Dean and Bobby and his own kin mirrored on your face – knowing your rejection would kill the only part of him that mattered, the part capable of love. A pleased smile impressed upon his mouth at your open acceptance of his authority.

“Cas,” shutting your eyes, you exhaled his name, leaning into his caress, “I missed you so much.”

“I know,” he tenderly traced the bowed edges of your lips, “but there was and is much work for me to do.” The calloused pad of his thumb parted your pink lips, “Still, I think you’ve been patient enough, my love.”

Your heart fluttered at the term of endearment, eyes flickering open to search his lust-darkened pupils, a flood of heat gushing in your center at the domineering way he gazed down upon you. You swallowed a whimper, fingers kneading his thickly muscular thighs, “Would you like to know exactly how much I missed you?”

A low growl erupted from his chest as he tangled his fingers in your hair, bending to crush your mouth with a needy kiss – lips rough and insistent, sucking and bruising your own, tongue invading to devour your taste.

Blindly fumbling with his belt buckle, you grazed his already hardening length.

He emancipated your mouth with a groan, tightening his grip on your hair, snaking an arm around your waist to haul you to your feet, teeth ravishing and marking the delicate sweat-salted skin of your collarbone, claiming you as his own.

You stifled a squeal at the pleasurable sting of his bites, palming and squeezing his clothed arousal in retaliation, nipping at his earlobe, whispering, “Castiel, let me worship you.”

He angled away from you, freeing his fingers from your hair, a gratified smile curving the corner of his mouth and conveying approval at your choice of words. Nodding once, he assented to a demonstration of your veneration.

Sauntering around the angel with a simper, you tugged at the collars of his trench coat and suit jacket, stripping him simultaneously of the burdensome garments. Pressing your heated body to his broad back, hands delving beneath his arms to travel the landscape of his chest, you loosened and yanked free his tie, unfastening buttons as your fingers happened upon them in their wanderings, nails raking the exposed planes of flesh.

His muscles went rigid in anticipation beneath your touch.

Yanking off his shirt, laving his shoulders in a meandering line of wet open mouthed kisses, your hands journeyed ever lower – unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers, you slid them and his boxers to his ankles, liberating his straining cock.

He groaned, peering back at you, kicking off his boots and the puddled fabric around his feet, compelling you with hooded eyes to continue.

Grasping the base of his cock, you stepped around the angel, stroking him excruciatingly slow, standing up on tip-toes to nibble the prickly angle of his jaw, biting and drawing his lower lip through your teeth. Twisting your wrist, spurring a swell of knee-wobbling pleasure to course through him, you flaunted a sultry smirk, “Do you have any idea how much I adore this perfect vessel of yours Castiel? This temple?”

“Show me,” he growled, hardening in your grip.

You knelt before him, not needing to be commanded, licking and wetting your lips as you admired his perfect cock. Maintaining eye contact, you dragged your tongue over his slit, spreading the beaded pre-cum around the smooth tip with a widening swirling motion.

Blue eyes snapping forcefully closed, he raggedly panted your name mingled with praising words of Enochian.

Diverting your attention lower, you fondled his balls, massaging with increasing pressure the hypersensitive patch of skin behind them. Steadying his strained lurch forward with a palm flattened to his thigh, you licked a broad glistening stripe up the fleshy ridged underside of his cock, stroking him vigorously with clamped fingers in the wake of your tongue, kissing his purple engorged tip dotingly. Blowing puffs of cooling air teasingly across his saliva coated tip, you glanced up innocently for the pure indulgence of beholding his wanton reaction.

His fingers flew to snarl in your hair, blackened pupils fixed upon you, countenance wrecked, growling through clenched teeth, “Continue.”

You grinned, amused at his persistent illusion of control, content in the knowledge he was all yours in this moment to do with as you pleased. Flicking your tongue across his tip, provoking a series of small needy groans from his throat, you wrapped your lips around him, cheeks hollow and suckling as you sank him further into the inviting warmth and wetness.

He involuntarily bucked deeper into your throat, head dipping back with a rumbling growl, fingers twisting locks of hair as he fought the urge to impatiently pound into your gullet and take what he needed.

Bobbing up and down his cock in a steady rhythm, fingers enclosed around his shaft to stroke what you could not comfortably take into your throat, you alternated the sucking pressure of your lips around his girth and feather-light scrapes of your teeth with the twirling caress of your tongue at his sensitive tip. Feeling his cock swell and jerk against your tongue, you hummed - the vibration overwhelming the angel.

Muscles rippling involuntarily, abdomen tensing concave at the climax of blissful surrender, fingers scrabbling at your scalp, he cried out your name.

Moaning around his cock, you drank the hot spurts of his release. Shaking subsiding, you slid his softening length from your mouth with a sated sigh, clambering up his still unsteady naked frame, you cupped his cheeks and scattered his face with dainty kisses.

Winding his arms about your waist, hugging you closer, accosting your mouth with a passionate kiss, he closed his eyes, groaning at the taste of himself on your tongue, intoxicated by your absolute reverence. Desiring to reward your piety, he banished your clothing with a thought and scooped you into his arms.

Giggling, you bounced when he tossed you on the squeakily protesting mattress. Squirming to the middle of the bed, you skimmed a finger through the drenched folds of your sex, beckoning him closer with the arousal glossed digit, “My God Cas, I’m so wet for you.”

Crawling to hover over you, bending your knees together to the side, cock again rigid and prodding your ass, he growled, “What did you say?”

You smirked knowingly, goading his lust, “My…God.”

Planting an arm firmly behind your uppermost knee and the other at your waist, caging you in, limiting the potential for your movement, he nudged his cock at your sodden entrance, breath hotly ghosting over your neck, “Say it again.”

“M-my,” you moaned as sank into you with a single powerful thrust, “God!”

He bit his teeth into your shoulder, nearly hard enough to draw blood, the contrasting tingle of pain serving only to heighten your pleasure. Withdrawing completely and plunging deeper than before, stretching you with a singe of white hot ecstasy, he growled, “Again.”

“Oh God,” you keened, fingers digging into his biceps, desperate for purchase as he relentlessly drove into you, “Cas-Castiel!” Whimpering, unable to move within the secure restraint of his arms, you arched your back as sparks of pleasure ignited in your core under the merciless thrust of his hips setting your whole body aquiver. Salacious moans, fervent grunts, the weary creak of the old bed, and the sinfully lewd sound of skin slapping skin intensified the steamy atmosphere of the room.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, breaking breathlessly from your lips to lavish your breast with his tongue.

Every nerve ending aflame, you obeyed, slipping quivering fingers between slickened thighs to rub circles over your engorged clit, gasping, “Cas, I’m so close.”

“Then come for me Y/N,” he snarled in your ear, altering the angle of his hips to directly strike your sweet spot.

“Oh, God!” You screamed, body engulfed in a blazing release of bliss, nails clawing into the muscles of his arms, pussy convulsing around his thick cock.

Hips faltering, he tensed and juddered, head burrowing into your neck with a groan, cock twitching to fill you with warmth. Collapsing on you, your bodies shook together for some time with small aftershocks of pleasure as he tenderly kissed your swollen lips. Rolling to cuddle you from behind, cock slipping from your center, combined releases leaking hotly down your thigh, he anchored your spent figure snug to his heaving chest. Affectionately nuzzling your sweat soaked hair, he realized he had been wrong to ever doubt your love for the simple fact you were the one human in all of creation who never doubted him.

Hypocrites, bigots, motivational speakers – no one was immune to cleansing under the reign of Castiel. Mitigated by your love, he worked in equal shares of miracles too - healing the infirmed and afflicted, restoring sight to the blind, feeding the famished. As he exercised his seemingly boundless power, something wicked began to stir in the darkest recesses of his vessel, attracted instinctively to surface by the scent of fear which seemed to surround the angel wherever he journeyed. Castiel first heard their voices and felt their dreadful burden in a church after smiting an irreverent reverend.

“Castiel? Cas.”

Castiel paid no more head to their cries than he would the buzz of a fly - yet some part of him acknowledged the very same fly as a harbinger of ill. That evening, when he returned to share your bed and indulge in the carnal pleasures of your company as he had done every night since your demonstration of faith, he seemed different – distant, hesitating to meet your questioning eyes, unwilling to boast about the day’s accomplishments, flinching under your loving touch. Bodies tangled together in the dark, mind spiraling from the sensory overload of intense orgasm, serenely combing your fingers through his soft dark curls, you had no way to know it was the beginning of the end.

The rebelling darkness Castiel harbored nourished and strengthened itself on the unacknowledged fear within himself triggered by fracturing control, finally cracking the surface of his vessel after a confrontation with Crowley wherein he dictated in no uncertain terms the demon’s newly perfunctory role in Hell as a figurehead king answering to God. Disconcerted by the minor outward lesion on his vessel, but nonetheless emboldened with power, Castiel discounted their scraping merely as a passing itch – there would be time to deal with them later, when the work was done. That night, deeply undulating your hips against the angel as you rode his cock, mewling, pussy throbbing and close to orgasm, his fingers dug into your ass, abruptly shoving you from his body. He rolled from the bed, staggering into the bathroom.

“Fraud. Charlatan!” The voices screamed ominously inside him, “Too weak. Mistake. Let us out.”

Cas buckled over the counter with a pained groan, blinking into the hazy mirror, running cool water to splash his perspiration beaded skin.

Dazed at the precipice of release, you crept to the edge of the mattress, calling out shakily after him, “Cas, what’s wrong?”

Scrutinizing the newly deteriorating flesh of his vessel’s cheeks in the mirror, he lied, “Nothing. Just-just stay in bed. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Let us out!” The voices insisted, stretching and clawing out from his abdomen.

“No.” Cas growled under his breath.

Easing out of bed, unconvinced and alarmed by his strange affect, you padded softly barefoot toward the open bathroom door. Crossing the threshold, you found the room empty, clear cold water overflowing the sink to splash the tiled floor, “Cas?!”

The meddling Winchesters, as expected, were unable to leave well enough alone – unwilling to acquiesce to a simple request in exchange for their mercifully permitted existence, ever ready to forfeit their lives to save the world from what was it this time - order? Peace? God’s love? Stupid little ants, Cas sneered even as his vessel decayed before them, as control slipped from his tenuous grasp. Why couldn’t they be more like you? Love him? Or at the very least, trust him?

“You look awfully like a mutated angel to me. Your vessel’s melting. You’re going to explode. You think you’re simply under the weight of all those souls, yes? But that’s not the worst problem. There are things much older than souls in purgatory, and you gulped those in too.”

Death, summoned by the hunters to kill Castiel, named the ancient evil corrupting his vessel – leviathans.

“Irrelevant. I control them.”

Fists clenched, muscles straining with exertion, Cas did not fear Death. Death was ancient as his father, present at the dawn of creation, and if he could control Death himself, why should he fear leviathans? No matter. The Winchesters weren’t a threat. They failed, and he had work to attend to in the form of a corrupt politician spreading lies in his good name.

“Cas!” Just as unexpectedly as he vanished days ago, the angel appeared before you now, battered, bruised, and bloody.

“Help me,” he stumbled weakly to one knee, panicked blue eyes pleading.

Tucking his arm over your shoulder, you helped him to stand, guiding him to the bathroom, leaning him against the edge of the counter. Hands trembling, you wrung a wet washcloth over the sink, wiping carefully at his face and neck and hands, towel rapidly staining crimson, droplets of red speckling the white porcelain of the basin. Rinsing the washcloth again, you swiped the blood-matted hair from his forehead, “Cas, there’s so much blood, where are you hurt?”

Pivoting, he gripped the edges of the counter, pitching forward with effort, the volume of the laughter inside of his vessel’s skull overpowering your voice.

“Cas, whose blood is this?” You stared at his haggard face in the reflection of the mirror, realizing none of his wounds could produce this much blood. Something churning maliciously behind his wearied eyes caused you to shrink away, forgotten washcloth splattering to the floor, heart seizing with fear, “Cas, please, say something. You’re frightening me.”

“I-I blacked out. I don’t know what happened,” he sobbed, vessel shaking. Collapsing into folded arms, he hid his face, unable to bear the fearful gleam in your eyes.

You stepped closer to rub his back, to comfort him, to assuage the disquiet feeling surging within yourself, “Okay, it’s okay, we’ll figure it out. Just-just tell me the last thing you remember.”

“I, they’re all dead. Innocents. Slaughtered,” he mumbled, “I only went to talk. I-” His body convulsed and went silent.

“Cas?” You squeezed his shoulder.

“Try again,” the creature that leered up at you wasn’t Castiel. The fingers that snatched at and compressed your neck, cutting off the air to your lungs, dangling your kicking feet uselessly off the ground weren’t Castiel’s. And the laughter springing from its throat as it garnered enjoyment choking the life out of you resonated of pure evil, “Or, you know, don’t.”

“Get your hands off her!” The fingers at your throat slackened.

You crumpled into a gasping heap on the cold tile floor. The last thing to register before you blacked out were the horror stricken blue eyes of your angel brimming freely with tears.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I’ve made a horrible mistake. I can’t control them. Forgive me. Please, forgive me. I-I love you…”

It was your love shrouded in fear that turned the tide for Castiel and made clear the errors in his judgement. He had determined to return the souls to purgatory the moment he saw the fear reflected in your eyes. Being alone, losing your love, it terrified him. It was in that instant of weakened resolve that the leviathans gained the upper hand. Helplessly witnessing the life ebb from your body, he wrenched control back from the ancient beasts by harnessing the raw power of his love for you to stun them into submission - a thing so purely evil is incapable of breaching such devotion. Now, clutching your unconscious body to his chest, listening to your wheezing struggle to hold onto life, he understood the profound danger. Gently laying you on your back, he rolled a towel beneath your neck. Pressing blood-stained fingers to your temple, he healed you, not with the ungodly power coursing poisonously through his vessel, but with angelic grace. Heartened by your strengthening respiration and the pink flush returning to your pale cheeks, shaky fingers brushed the shock damp hair from your brow and he placed a tender lingering kiss on your forehead.

You roused many hours later when a beam of sunlight stretched from the window to tickle your closed eyes, the familiar gravel of Cas’ voice murmuring a morning greeting in your ear. Moaning softly, you reached to the opposite side of the bed, your fingers grasping at the empty space, finding only rough sheets where the angel should be. Bolting upright, everything came flooding back. Grabbing your phone, you paced the room as it rang, “Damnit, Dean! Answer!” It went to voicemail. You tried again.

He picked up on the first ring this time, “Y/N?”

“Dean! It’s Cas, he’s in danger,” your words frantically slurred, “I don’t mean the God thing, he’s possessed or something. Whatever it is tried to kill me, but Cas stopped it. He-”

“He’s gone, Y/N. Cas is gone.”

Your stomach flipped at Dean’s words, stunned to silence as you rode a wave of nausea.

“You okay?”

“G-gone?” You didn’t understand - you heard the angel’s voice, felt his presence only moments ago.

“Last night, he showed up just in time to send those souls back to purgatory. The thing that tried to kill you - leviathans, they managed to hang on. And Cas, he couldn’t hold them back without all that extra purgatory power. They marched his vessel into a municipal water reservoir and scattered.”

“I need to see him,” you refused to believe Dean, needing to see the angel’s lifeless vessel with your own eyes as proof. It didn’t feel like Cas was gone, there was no pervading sense of emptiness in the corners of your soul where his love resided.

“There’s nothing to see Y/N, all that’s left is that stupid trench coat of his.”

Your heart soared with hope, knowing without a shadow of doubt that your angel was out there somewhere. Not gone – lost. Lost and alive. And for as long as your heart continued to beat, no one would convince you otherwise.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Distracting

Summary: Written for @roxy-davenport ‘s writing challenge based on horror movies and smut (genius idea). Enjoy!

Pairing: Alpha!Demon!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: smut

A/N: Fluffy, Alpha Demon!Dean is like a big sexy teddy bear...

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter when you walked into the library. You knew Dean had been on a horror movie kick lately, popping around corners to scare you, sneaking up from behind. You hadn’t been the biggest fan of him when he turned into a demon but he’d calmed down, understood now that he could still be good. It was strange becoming friends again and then more than that but you weren’t going to deny that you got to fall in love with him twice because of all of it. Going dark side had made your man-child a bit more playful though, not that you were complaining.

“Nice chair stacking,” you said, walking into the kitchen to see Dean with pursed lips. “Was that supposed to scare me?”

“I could hear you laughing all the way in here,” said Dean, dumping a bag of popcorn in a bowl.

“I’m guessing we’re watching Poltergeist?” you asked, stealing a piece of hot food from the bowl.

“Yes sweetheart,” said Dean, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Better question, is that my shirt?” You glanced down at the black tee you wore over your flannel pants.

“It’s comfy. Smells like you,” you said, a slight heat rushing to your cheeks.

“You like me or something Y/N?” asked Dean, spinning you around and lifting you up so his hands were under his thighs. He bent down so you could grab the bowl and carry it behind his back, your other arm wrapped around his shoulders to hold on.

“Me like Dean Winchester? What could have ever given you that idea?” you said back. Dean smirked as one of his hands moved to under your ass where he gave a light squeeze. “Bad boy.”

“You like when I’m a bad boy,” said Dean, setting you down on the bed after a fast trip down the hall. You raised an eyebrow and sat the bowl to the side while he turned and set up the movie.

“I do enjoy that,” you said, a wicked smile on your lips. “Let’s see if you can be good for once.”

“What’s that supposed to mean sweetheart?” asked Dean, turning around to see your pants on the floor. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”

“No bra either hot shot,” you said with a wink. “You get through this movie without any inappropriate touching well, I might just have to reward you.”

“But I love your punishments so much,” said Dean, pressing play and climbing onto the bed. “For you, I can try. Even if you are a little cheater.”

“Now this is cheating,” you said, crawling into his lap so his legs were on either side of your own. You titled your head up to his as you moved one of his arms to wrap around your waist.

“I can cuddle you without touching you,” said Dean, plopping the bowl in your lap and wrapping his other arm around you. 

“Haven’t made it through a movie yet,” you said.

“I may just surprise you, Y/N.”

Dean was making good on his promise of not touching you and you found that you were the one breaking. Truth be told, scary movies, well, scared you. Hunt a vamp, take down a ghost, clear out a witches’ coven, not a problem. Watch something fake on a screen in your home wrapped up in big strong arms. Not so much.

“Dean,” you whined. “Distract me.”

“From the movie we’re supposed to be focusing our attention on?” he asked, a rumble rippling through his chest.

“Don’t laugh. You know I...” you started.

“I know what?” asked Dean. You would have responded but he sighed as he shifted his grip on you. “You’re-You’re actually scared, aren’t you?”

“Just forget about it,” you said, turning your gaze to the floor, sure you’d find some piece of stray dust to occupy you for the next hour. 

“Uh, uh,” said Dean, the movie clicking off and Dean turning you around in his lap. “I always thought the scared thing was a flirty act.”

“You like them and I like being with you. It’s silly but when you touch me then I can kind of forget what’s on the screen and just focus on you,” you said.

“It’s not silly. Okay, maybe a tiny little bit silly but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable because of me. I’m tired of watching these anyways,” said Dean, kissing your forehead. “Let’s do classic 80′s instead.”

“Dean, you being a demon-”

“You see one movie about alternate dimensions and dick spirits in a house you’ve seen them all,” said Dean, wrapping his legs around your back, holding you up against him. “Me being a demon just means I need your help at picking up on stuff like you being scared. I wish I could be better at it.”

“You’ve come a long way, baby,” you said, resting your head on his chest, scooting so you sat on his lap.

“Yes we have,” said Dean. For a few long moments you sat in silence, enjoying his warmth and scent, Dean’s face buried in the crook of your neck. He was a demon but he might have enjoyed cuddling more than the human version of Dean ever did which was saying something.

“Dean,” you mumbled against him, feeling his lips on your neck open and plant a small suckling kiss there.

“Did you not want me to distract you?” asked Dean. He breathed long and hard against your skin. “You smell so good. You’re getting close to your heat. I want to help.”

“No,” you said, forcing yourself to pull away, even if he was intoxicating at the moment. “No,” you said, shaking your head, forgetting about the movie, forgetting about your impending heat. “No more touching, no more nothing until you do it finally.”

“Y/N, you know how dangerous it could be,” said Dean. “I know Dean didn’t want to do it the first time when he was a human either.”

“Look at this,” you said, pulling on your shirt collar, moving it aside to reveal the permanent mark in your skin left behind from Dean all those years ago. “Dean was my Alpha. I don’t know why but when you changed, I lost my bond. I want my Alpha back. You won’t do it, you won’t knot, you won’t...”

“Sweetheart, we made a deal,” said Dean, a kind smile on his face. “We were going to wait at least six months. I wasn’t going to claim you until you knew you wanted it.”

“Oh,” you said, remembering the day Dean came home as a demon and all the conversations that went with it. “Sorry for...overreacting.”

“It’s been more than six months,” said Dean, raising an eyebrow. “Do you-”

“Yes,” you said, climbing onto his lap. 

“Well someone’s an eager beaver,” said Dean. “Let me just ask one question.”

“Because I love you. Any Alpha who is strong enough to be that patient, to protect me and love me on top of all that demon stuff we have to deal with, you’re good. I want to be yours,” you said, resting your forehead on Dean’s.

“I was going to ask where you wanted me to mark you, sweetheart,” asked Dean, his grin wide. You felt a little embarrassed but Dean was soon lifting your shirt off, brushing your hair away from your old mark.

“Same place as before,” you said, exposing your neck to him. 

“Sh, sh,” said Dean, pushing you away. “I’m wearing too many clothes before we can get to that.”

“Then take them off,” you said, running your hand over his shoulders to push his over shirt off.

“Bossy little Omega aren’t you?” asked Dean, removing his shirt as you undid his belt.

“Babe,” you said, raising an eyebrow. Dean held up his hands in defense as he lifted his hips, allowing you to pull his pants and underwear off.

“Sorry, you know I can only behave for so long,” said Dean with a cock of his head.

“Behave for this,” you said, pushing him on his chest to try and lay him down but finding him planted in place.

“I will but I’m running this. I need to,” said Dean, rolling you over so you lay on your back. 

“I know,” you said, smiling up at Dean.

“Y/N?” asked Dean, inhaling sharply. “You smell so good.”

“Such a sweet talker,” you said, parting your lips as Dean came down to crash his own to them. You were already ready for him but Dean took his time to wind you up even further. You’d played around since his demon side took over but actual sex seemed like a distant memory.

“Ready?” asked Dean. “We’re out of practice,” he said, hot and sweaty over top of you, ready to come the second he got inside you.

“We should get back to it then,” you said. “Do it, Dean.”

Dean pushed in slow, the sensation pleasant and everything you needed from him. Dean only thrusted a few times before you felt his knot start to swell. You adjusted your hips, giving him a deeper grind and you weren’t sure who was uttering what profanities.

You kept rocking your hips as Dean pumped in and out faster, harder, dirtier until his knot held in place and you came from the feeling alone. Dean bit down on your neck, breaking the skin of your old mark, creating a new one just for him that sent a shiver down your spine. Your orgasm spurred on his, Dean coming right along with you as you rode out the waves of pleasure as long as you could.

“Mmm,” you hummed into the crook of his neck, his scent still appetizing but calmer, a permanent home for you now.

“How lucky am I?” asked Dean, adjusting you so you could lay on his chest as you waited for Dean’s knot to go down.

“Pretty lucky,” you said, dancing your fingers along his arm. “But for my own curiosity...”

“I got to make you mine twice. You actually do love me,” said Dean, cupping your flush cheek.

“Was I unclear on that before? If so-”

“You know how I get. Words and shit...you’re good at that. I’m good at thinking you tell me what I want to hear,” said Dean.

“I tell you the truth. That’s it. Well...maybe I eat the last piece of pie and not Sam but in the grand scheme of things I’m always honest with you,” you said, earning a coy smile from the demon.

“So you’re the one stealing all my pie,” said Dean.

“Sharing babe. What’s yours is mine and vice versa,” you said, grabbing Dean’s shirt from nearby and throwing it over yourself, starting to get cold from the air in the room. “See?”

“If I get all of you for a few pieces of pie and some shirts, I’m the happiest Alpha there is,” said Dean. 

“Dean,” you said, laying your head on his chest, smiling at calm green eyes. “Do you think we...did it?”

“Probably. Excited?” asked Dean, a different smile forming on his face.

“We should probably watch whatever movies we want for the next nine months. I expect a lot of cartoons in our future,” you said, Dean leaning down to peck a kiss to your lips.

“Looking forward to it.”

[demondeanismybaby]

Caught in a Storm

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4216

Warnings: Smut, fingering, blood kink, very slight dub!con, sex with strangers, unprotected sex, slight angst but not really.  

Summary: You're on your way to a new school and new life when a freak storm and some bad timing lead you into the arms of a dark stranger. 

A/N: This is for @roxy-davenport SPN Birthday Celebration, it was a few days late but I think I like how it turned out. My prompt was the movie Susperia(1977), blood!kink, demon!dean x reader, and the quote “Was that supposed to scare me?”   

Covering your head with the back of your jacket, watching as the rain poured down around you, you rushed towards the door. It was late, and part of you doubted that anyone would be here to let you in. Still, it was going to be hard to find a hotel in a strange city in the middle of the night, while trying to navigate through the horrible weather. Knocking as loud as possible, your fist banging against the wood and pounding out a dull thud you could hear echoing inside. Closing your eyes, letting out a silent prayer that it was going to be noisy enough to rouse someone.

Pressing your face against the seam you tried to hear any signs of life coming from inside, but it was silent.

Accepting defeat you let the water splash across your face, barely trying to wipe it out of your eyes, as you made your way to the nearest street sign where a little-covered bus stop was standing. At least there you could dig out a map and try and find somewhere to bunk for the night.

“Are you lost?”

In your mission to find a warm place to stay you hadn’t noticed the man leaning up against the corner of the booth, it was like his own air of darkness made him into more of a tangible shadow then a human male. His voice however, deep and full of smoke was enough to have your attention snapping to him. It dawned on you, he might be able to help you, although he didn’t sound local what with the American accent and all, he was probably just another student like you.

You tried to plaster on a shy smile, really you were tired and wet and felt a little like crying, but that wasn’t how to get help from a stranger and you knew it.

“Not lost, just new to the city, and I need a place to stay tonight.” You weren’t sure just how much detail to give the man so you stuck to vague half-truths, “do you know of any hotels nearby?”

As he came out of the corner you noticed just how large he was, he loomed over you blocking out any remaining light from the buildings on the street. He might have been handsome in some other circumstance his features model sharp and defined but they were hidden slightly by a scruffy look of someone who has been busy drinking for days. You could even smell the whiskey as he spoke near your face.

“Sure I know a place,” he reached clumsily for your hand, “let me show you.”

You weren’t stupid, you knew better than to blindly follow some random guy in a town you had never set foot in, but you were also desperate. It was getting so late that besides sleeping in this bus stop, with its own inherent drawbacks you were running out of options.

“How about you just tell me how to get there,” pulling your fingers out of his grasp, “I don’t want to put you out.”

He just shook his head and started walking out onto the street. Your bones started to ache with the weariness of your travels and the need to get into some place warm for a moment was causing your common sense to lose out, and seeing a few groups of people and couples running to their own locations along the street gave you hope if the worst came, you could call out for help.

His strides were longer than yours, even though your limbs were perfectly suited for the jumps and leaps of ballet, it still took you basically jogging to keep him in your line of sight. The roads started to blur, you were passing them so quickly watching the green coat in front of you as it turned left and then right and then left again. Trying to keep the directions straight in case you needed to try and get back to the school.

Homes were crowding in on you, and it was strange how there was hardly a single light on in any of the windows flicking past you. Finally, he came to a stop, it was underneath a sort of awning but there wasn’t much room. Instead, you stepped sideways into the next closest doorway so you were standing in a slight alcove, able to get out of the rain, you were worried, however, it didn’t look like anyone was awake here either.

“Is this it,” you craned your neck to try to see past his bulk, “it looks empty.”

His mouth twisted into a dark smile, from which his incisors glinted like fangs, “yep this is it, Y/N.”

He began to crowd in against you, forcing your back up against the doorway. Your blood ran cold. You were certain that you had never met this man before, and you knew you hadn’t bothered to introduce yourself, how could he know you?

His arm snaked out against you, he quickly wrapped his fist against the door before grasping onto your arm. You noticed the slight squelch as his hand wrung out the moisture from your soaked through trenchcoat, you wished you had brought something heavier, this was woolen and scratched at your skin. There would be a blossom of purple marks into your skin where he continued to grip you in the morning if you ever made it that far.

The door swung open behind you and you stumbled backward into the entryway. Only his hand on you prevented you from falling completely. Your shoulder strained against the force of his hold. You looked up into the face of a new man, his brown eyes almost appearing ringed with red with the reflection of the distant streetlight, but his stare was cool and unaffected by your presence. It was all just nerves you kept telling yourself, this was probably just a local hostel and nothing to concern yourself with.

“Dean, I see you brought,” his eyes traveled along your frame, “company.”

You were glad that you could understand his British accent, you had been slightly nervous about not knowing any German. However, a school like this was bound to have plenty of English speakers, at least that is how you justified not bothering with so much as a local guidebook. The only thing you had managed to take was your map and proof that you had got into the academy and they were both mushed together in your pocket. The lack of materials to guide you was part of what forced you to follow this stranger here in the first place, at least they could understand you.

“Yep, this is Y/N.”

The other man seemed a little taken aback at the mention of your name, and if he scowled briefly you figured it must have been your imagination. At least you knew the initial stranger's name now, having something to call him made everything seem less surreal. Dean, it sounded simple and American just like you had first assumed, he wasn’t from here either.

“Do you have a room available?” You felt like you needed to steer the conversation back to the realm of sanity.

He quirked an eyebrow at you, “Yes, Dean here, will show you there I suppose.”

You were both pushing past him in an instant, it was almost like he had never existed in the first place because when you briefly looked behind you to gather more about his appearance it seemed like he had vanished into the shadows of the entrance. All that was left imprinted on you was the dark buttoned up look of his suit against the plaid denim casual figure that was Dean. Right now he was an insistent pressure behind you making it hard to think about another random man, you already had more than you could deal with.

The thick hand squeezed again against your arm, the pressure enough to remind you he had never let you go. Instead, he started to steer you through the too dark interior of the small apartment space. It didn’t look like a motel, it didn’t even look like a house. You did your best to try and maneuver around small furnishings and curves of hallways. Glad for the moment you had him guiding you in the strange domicile. If only because it seemed foreboding to be in on your own.

With a rough jerk on your sleeve, you stumbled to a halt in front of a slightly ajar door. It was impossible to see inside but you figured that you had arrived at your place to sleep for the night. Your suitcase had already been sent ahead to the school, so it dawned on you that you were going to be without a change of clothes, and the idea of sleeping nude here was a little terrifying. Just the thought that this guy might be sleeping a little more than a room away made you certain he could already see what was underneath your dripping clothes.

“We’re here.”

You figured he was trying to indicate that you should go into your temporary room. Although you were tired of being drenched and cold, you were also wanting to see the room before you committed to sleeping in it. Your hand searched for a light switch against the edge of the wall and eventually, your fingers brushed past it.

The bulb was red, it glowed sinisterly and reminded you of hell itself, it seemed to be coming from the walls rather than the naked flicker above your head. The room was furnished beautifully, although the color made it appear less so. There was a huge paneled divider in the center of the room carved delicately out of some exotic wood and a large wooden trunk sat at the end of an iron wrought single bed.

Dean had released you, it was so sudden you almost forgot that he had been there at all. Such was the strangeness of the evening that the room itself, even with it’s similarity to hellfire, actually didn’t seem all that frightening.

“Do you like it?” He didn’t sound like he cared much either way.

You nodded. Although you might not have been terrified of it, you were certain you didn’t like it. It felt like something evil was watching you, tracking your slight movements toward the center of the room, like the walls themselves, were a breathing entity. Heavy footfalls followed your light ones. A strange breath was close against your neck. Heating the skin behind your ear as he panted behind you. Your mind was racing, you weren’t sure why he was still here.

“How did you know my name,” you tried your best to remain calm and even in your tone not to spook him but it caused the words to come out in a whisper.

“I know everything about you,” he spun you around to face him and this time you knew his eyes were black because they reflected your own image back like a sinister mirror, “like how you were so desperate to get into a fancy dance school you decided you would sell your soul.”

“What...that wasn’t,” you cast around for an explanation.

When the man had first come to you as you sat alone at the local dive bar, they didn’t care that you weren’t 21, you had thought it was all just a joke. An old man’s way of flirting with a hot young girl who was down on her luck. Which you were. The last four dance schools had rejected you and it was your last hope to get away from the little town you grew up in to move onto something better. So, as he talked to you about deals and what was a soul really worth you didn’t even hesitate before adding, “I’d sell mine to get into Tanz Dance Academy.”

Then he had kissed you, and if you had tried to repress the memory it was only because of the way those lips had felt so cold and lifeless against your own.

You instinctively fingered the now sopping wet acceptance letter in your pocket, when you had gotten the small envelope, you had assumed it was another reject to add to the pile, but as you had scanned the page to see your start date, you realized you had done it. You were going to be a real dancer at a prestigious school. The excitement at reading the words had pushed that night back at the bar a million miles away from your thoughts. Days later you were on a plane to Germany, headed to a new city and a new life. Now, here you were alone with this sinister man, in a crumbling townhome, in a place you knew no one and somehow he knew about your secrets.

He knew about a night that you hadn’t even believed had truly happened. Souls weren’t real and they certainly weren’t a commodity.

The next thought popped out of your mouth before you could stop it, “what are you?”

His hand went for something inside of his jacket, and you were bracing yourself for something you knew was going to be terrible, you could tell from the look of glee leaking across his features. Manic and wild. Even the ominous feeling didn’t compare to the blade he brought out, it looked like it was made from bone and teeth but speckled red with what you hoped was some type of paint and not blood.

Bringing the blade up against your face his close fist guided your eyes to stare up into his now smiling face.

He crashed his lips against yours, the shock was so great you could hardly get your mind to catch up to what was happening. He still had the blade digging into the side of your face and you were too terrified to move, but there was also something about the taste of him against your mouth something dark and bitter like whiskey so strong it made you want to kiss him back.

So you did, you couldn’t match his ferocity but you tried to move your lips gently where he was busy working his mouth quick and hard. As you tried to open your mouth to catch your breath his tongue slipped in working against your own. It felt like he was going to eat your alive. When you tried to draw away slightly, he caught your bottom lip with his sharp teeth.

“Ahh,” the hard sting and taste of metal flooded your mouth.

He smiled wider, a smear of your own crimson blood against his lip.

Your mind was racing, part of you wanted this, to throw yourself in bed with a stranger and erase your humdrum middle American self. Replace it with a cultured woman who allowed herself, multiple partners. To be strong enough that you could let yourself engage in a quick fling with a dangerous man and walk out proud and self-assured in the morning. He was objectively attractive, and you thought with your own blood marking him he looked sexy in a way that you had never seen in another person.

You pulled him towards the bed, his back briefly silhouetted in the frame of the door, and when your knees bumped against the edge of the mattress you let yourself fall backward. He was immediately on top of you. His weight almost suffocating.

Focusing on the feeling of him touching you, you let the fear slip away. Knowing there was no point to worry about it now, you and he were both here bodies writhing against each other, and you allowed yourself to lose your mind to the sensations.

Hands roved over the plans of your body, but soon the action became frustrated, too damp from the rain outside, your clothes were halting the process. He set the strange implement down on the pillow beside your head, and your eyes briefly left his face to study it closer. It was jagged and now right by your pupil, you could see that it was blood that was dried into its surface. He managed in practiced action to remove your coat and then it was your jeans, by the time he reached the thin material of your tank top he was tearing more of the fabric than he was pulling it off you.

Almost naked, you felt much more vulnerable and slightly scared again, but beyond the shaking terror, there was a growing arousal. This was so unlike you, but you wanted to see just how far you could push yourself even if it was only for one night.

“Look at you,” he rubbed his hand along your inner thigh, “so delicate.” His fingers squeezed harder into your flesh.

You reached your head up to meet him, trying to stop any more words from pouring out by kissing him fiercely. It worked for the most part, except for the dark chuckle that escaped between you pulsing your tongue against his.

His fingers were moving again, crawling up to your now soaked pussy, you knew that when he peeled back the thin lace panties you were he would feel your slickness. It was the last thing that should have mattered at this point but you could feel the flush creeping into your face.

A hum was elicited from above you as he found his mark, the sensitive bundle of nerves that made a fire spark in your core. He was a man who clearly knew how to bring the pleasure, but as he tweaked and rubbed your clit the sensation almost started to border on pain.

“Hurts,” you choked out quietly.

“It’s ok baby,” he stopped to push a thick digit inside you, “it looks like you like it.”

He started to add another finger and you moaned into the slight burn you felt at the fullness, his huge digits filling you easily, then he was rubbing at that inner spot that had you fisting your hands into the bedding and arching your back. You were so close that you could barely see him in front of you.

Lips bumped against yours lightly as your own motion became slightly off with the closeness of your approaching orgasm. The tingling in your crotch spread like lightning sparking in all directions of your limbs, and he worked you through the final shockwaves softer and softer letting you fall off into the edge of darkness.

His lips were pressing softly along your neck at your pulse point. You could feel your own heart beating faster as you began to come back to the room around you. You were sated but the feeling of his plush mouth on your skin started to rebuild the thrum of pleasure through your body, by the time his fingers tugged on your nipple you were starting to get wet again.

“I’m so tired,” you whined wanting to please him in return but feeling wrung out from your earlier peak.

“Sweetheart, we’re just getting started.”

He gripped the blade, his quick grab for it putting his fist right next to your face before holding the pointed tip against the hollow of your neck.

You laughed nervously, “Was that supposed to scare me?” You felt suddenly unsure where this all was going.

This was supposed to be an adventurous one night stand not a homicide.

The knife moved along your collarbone and then slowly traced along your upper body. You could feel the strange scrape and bump of it against your breast until the curved tip was pressed against the delicate peak of your left nipple but it was quickly followed by the soft trail of kisses Dean was leaving in the wake of its jagged teeth. The striking contrast between the softness and harsh edge was keeping your body interested.  

It was the hand of someone practiced, the blade was pressing but not cutting, he clearly knew exactly how much pressure he was able to apply. Once he reached the flat expanse of your stomach you sucked in a breath causing the blade to skip and knick you. The sharp sting was followed by a slight ooze. It wasn’t the tacky welt that had a newer heat building between your legs, rather it was the light in his onyx eyes as he watched the blood run out of you, it was irreverent.

He ran his finger through the sticky trail massaging it into the skin of your stomach, you saw the way the deep burgundy of the blood intermixed with the artificial red light of the room into an ichor like substance against his fingers, he pushed the copper dipped digits past your lips and you felt the heavy weight of your blood in your mouth.

“Does that taste good, baby?” He was nodding himself like he could already see the answer in your half-lidded eyes.

Your only response was to suck at his fingers harder, nipping at his knuckle buried between your lips. Swirling your tongue around the base of them, and slightly bobbing your head. You needed more of him, craved to feel him buried inside you. This was your way of teasing him of a preview of things you could be doing that would be more fun.

He seemed to get the picture because he removed his hand so he could stand at the edge of the bed and undress, you watched as his clothes were thrown roughly to the floor, no care for where they were failing. His eyes stayed on you. It looked like they were planning all the future moves he wanted to make on your body.

“Spread your legs,” it was a command you immediately followed.

His head was buried in the v between your thighs quicker than you could have expected. His teeth bit softly at your inner leg moving up to your soaking lips, he spread them gently to finger you while he mouthed against your clit. This was only a precursor, when he decided you were wet enough he took his own length in his palm. Raising himself on his knees above you.

You watched the flex of the muscles in his arm and chest, the way the cords in his neck were strained with his obvious excitement. He would have looked like a museum statue with his perfect shape if not for the movement of his fist against his cock, but even his bulging erection had him looking more handsome to you, almost human again.

He was large and you knew there would be the slight burn when that full length penetrated you, and you needed it, your hands went to your tits massaging your nipples to hard peaks. Trying to put on somewhat of a show to keep his interest and when he let go his erection sprang up towards his stomach so you knew it was working. He was ready.

Burying himself into you, his head and shaft so deep you could feel the harsh bump against your cervix at the depth and speed of his thrust. He didn’t slow, he snapped his hips to meet yours and you did your best to match his brutal pace. You couldn’t help the garbled pleas and cries that fell from your lips, it hurt but you wanted more. As his fingers found your hip you felt the way his fingertips stuck against the tacky trail of blood from earlier.

Flipping you easily, briefly removing himself from inside you, he organized your hands and knees so you were on all fours. Not fast enough for your liking, he nudged up against you from behind, you were ready to come and all this movement was breaking the pace you needed. At least now it was a better angle so he was able to hold against your hips as he pounded you relentlessly. In and out until your legs were buckling and you could feel his own hold was slipping.

His thrust became erratic and he was pumping his warm seed deep inside you before you even thought about protection. Although he was finished he made sure you reached your own peak. He moved his hand to your clit pushing past your wet folds to twirl his fingers against you until you felt yourself cresting. Once again you were left a panting mess heaped over on the bed.

Somewhere above you, you felt him shifting around, you assumed he was gathering his clothes and your heart fell a little at the thought that suddenly you didn’t want him to leave you here on your own. Even though his presence wasn’t comforting it was something to just not be alone.

“You could stay,” you tried to make it sound like an offer and not a plea.

“Can’t tonight, but don’t worry I will be seeing you again real soon.” With that, you heard the snick of the door behind him.

Shivering you laid alone on the bed, your thighs tacky with the remnants of your recently spent passions and you were left to ponder exactly what was going to happen the next time you saw Dean. You didn’t think it could be anything good, but a part of you was still excited.

[theweirdymcweirderson]

Bad boy's charm

Author: theweirdymcweirderson

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena

Relationships: Dean Winchester×Reader

Word count: 3608

Warnings: Demon!Dean, Jealousy, Possessive Dean Winchester, Smut, Kissing, Spanking, Language, Dirty talk

Summary: This was supposed to be for Lexie’s SPN Birthday Challenge. The prompt was My Bloody Valentine + Demon!Dean × Reader. Things get heated between Dean and the Reader after a late night “argument”

Notes: This piece was supposed to be for Lexie’s SPN Birthday Challenge, but I was really busy with life and couldn’t post it in time. Hope she forgives me and still accepts the fic *fingers crossed*

Tags: @roxy-davenport

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A small whimper left your swollen lips as your back connected with the wall; your eyes lifting up to lock on Dean’s darkened ones once more, “What would Sammy say if he saw you right now, huh?” His words had you blushing and you bit down on your bottom lip, unable to form any sort of sentence to answer his taunting question. 

It had all started with a bottle of scotch after you’d managed to successfully finish your last hunt. You were sprawled on the couch, your legs resting comfortably on Sam’s huge thighs as you told him, for the umpteenth time, how you couldn’t believe what that poor guy had gone through during the last couple of days. 

He was channel surfing, both of you on the verge of falling asleep, until you caught a glimpse of one of your favorite movies and jumped from your spot, screaming at him to stop and almost giving him a heart attack, “Ugh, seriously, (Y/n)? We’ve watched this like, a thousand times…" 

Sam, having been blessed with being labeled as your best friend, had obviously had the pleasure of watching each and every single one of your favorite movies with you, most of which, he’d had to watch more than once. My Bloody Valentine, was one of said movies. 

You spared him a look from the corner of your eyes, conveying everything you had to with one meaningful glare and he rolled his eyes with the longest sigh you’d every heard before slumping back on the couch; coming to terms with the fact that you were going to monopolise the TV for the rest of the night. 

"Look at him, Sammy, look at how beautiful that little cinnamon roll is!” You clapped your hands, beaming at the annoyed man sitting beside you before you turned your attention back on the screen, “He’s the definition of psycho-killer, (Y/n).” You shrugged your shoulders almost subconsciously, your eyes ogling the handsome actor. 

“You have to understand what he went through, Sam, how many times do I have to tell you? Plus, you know I have a little thing for them bad boys” You winked playfully, grinning like the cat that got the canary, before your eyes were drawn to Dean. He’d been sitting at the small motel table the whole night; his booted feet casually resting on the opposite chair. 

He’d had the “honour” of taking care of the monster of the week, which meant that the Mark of Cain was fed and the demonic urges it entailed were low-key dorment at the moment. Still his green eyes held a mischievous glint that had a rush of heat pooling at your cheeks, and you had to look away before you did or said anything inappropriate. 

You’d always had a little crush on the elder Winchester, however since he’d acquired those haunting black eyes, his inhibitions were gone. The Dean you’d once known had no time to really enjoy life, he was burdened by the events of the past, even those he’d had nothing to do with; there was always something weighing him down and making him keep some distance from you. 

But ever since the Mark had changed him, you’d caught him more times than not shamelessly staring at your body, which always ended up with you having to calm down the zoo that would take residence in your stomach. He was all self-satisfied, arrogant smiles and dirty smirks, and you found yourself falling for him a little harder each time he directed one at you. 

He chuckled darkly, snaking his hands down from your waist to cup your ass; a naughty but playful glimmer in his green eyes that reminded you of his old self, “Always liked this damn jeans of yours…” He span you around, making you face the other way before you could comprehend what was happening and giving you just enough time to steady yourself with your hands against the wall, to then push your chest against it. 

His large, warm hand caressed your backside, giving it a firm squeeze that had you biting on the insides of your cheeks, “…fucking love the way your ass looks in them” The loud swat of his palm connecting with your ass bounced off the walls, echoing down the halls of the otherwise silent bunker while you leant on your tiptoes; your back arching as you attempted to squirm away from him. 

Sam was out on research duty with Castiel, apparently Rowena could use the Book of the Damned to bring your Dean back. You were on babysitting duty, left at the bunker to make sure the new version of Dean didn’t get in any trouble; so when he’d told you he wanted to hit one of the local bars for a little karaoke, you’d agreed to accompany him, knowing that there would be no way for you to prevent him from leaving. 

“Why’d you flirt with that douche like that?” His voice was back to being rough and menacing, telling you to carefully weigh in your answer, which you did, “We were just talking, Dean…” His hand descending back on your ass had you groaning; your nails leaving crescent moon indents into the flesh of your palms.

Patrick was his name. The guy had casually approached you at the counter, starting off a nice conversation and you welcomed the company as you made sure to keep a watchful eye on Dean and what he was up to. After the pleasantries were exchanged, Patrick switched to playful flirting which had you leaning a little closer to him as he placed a hand on your knee, and your attention was effectively diverted from the demon. 

You’d failed to notice the way Dean was stalking towards you; his eyes turning onyx black and jaw clenching, but you sure heard his low, menacing voice as he growled at the poor guy to ‘take his filthy hands off of your body’. He didn’t utter a single word as he drove you back to the bunker; the fingers of his left hand drumming on the steering wheel, jaw locked and right hand cupping the inside of your thigh. 

He inched closer to you; the heat radiating from him a clear telltale of just how close your bodies were, “You think I didn’t see the way he was looking at you, (Y/n)? The way he had his fucking hand on your thigh?” His warm breath hitting the back of your neck almost made you lose track of your thoughts, almost, “Knee. It was just resting on my damn knee!" 

Clearly back talking wasn’t the best of strategies as his palm found your bottom again, harsher than the previous times; your nails clawing at the wall in front of you as a low groan left your lips, "So you weren’t just talking…” You bit down on your tongue, restraining yourself from making another witty remark, and instead clenching your thighs. 

Dean had always been overly protective, but you knew it was because he’d lost so many people and he just couldn’t bare the thought of losing you, his brother or Castiel as well. That was why you’d never said anything when he deemed it right to step in if a guy made some advances to you, sometimes even when you were the one who’d made the first move. 

You saw it as a brotherly thing, after all Sam and Cas did the same thing when needed, which always happened if Dean wasn’t around to intervene first. However, Dean had never been possessive of you, not until he’d turned into a demon. You could barely even look in another guy’s direction that he’d be growling and sending daggers at the man in question. 

His low, amused chuckle made it pretty clear that he’d noticed the subtle action, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” You didn’t answer, and he didn’t seem to be expecting you to; his sentence was more of a statement than a question, “You enjoy being spanked like the naughty girl you are, huh?" 

Colour suffused your cheeks, and you were suddenly thankful for the position you were in, knowing that Dean wouldn’t notice your blush; not yet at least. He did however hear the embarrassing squeak that escaped your lips when he pinched your right butt cheek, "I asked you a question, sweetheart…" 

You still remembered clearly the day he walked in on you and the blue-eyed angel in a "compromising” position. Castiel had asked you to teach him how to slow dance, and since you were all taking some time off from hunting you’d happily agreed; also you could never say no to his adorable puppy dog eyes. 

Dean’s jaw had clenched when his eyes had landed on you; the close proximity between your bodies something that he definitely wasn’t okay with. One of his perfect eyebrows had arched up in a silent question, and when all you’d managed was a pathetic 'Uh…’ as an answer, he’d turned his furious glare on Cas. 

His hand momentarily left your ass, and skimmed your hips, quickly finding the hem of your plain turquoise t-shirt and diving underneath it, “Bet that pussy is getting nice and wet…am I right?” He paused at your harsh intake of breath, and you could hear the smug, self-assured smirk in his voice when he spoke again. 

“Is your little pussy wet for me, (Y/n)?” His fingers were teasingly running over your heated skin, right above the waistband of your pants. You swallowed the sudden dryness in your mouth, and collected yourself long enough to manage to answer him with a slight nod of your head and a soft, whimpered 'yeah’. 

You felt, more than heard his groan; your mind going in overdrive when he took another step forward, effectively closing the small distance still separating your bodies. His chest molded perfectly to your back; the firm press of his muscles against you had your heartbeat quickening and your breathing stuttering. 

Castiel, confused as to why Dean seemed so enraged, had greeted him with his usual 'Hello, Dean.’ and you felt the colour drain from your face when Dean’s eyes flashed black, before he took a step towards the two of you. You’d rushed to put yourself in front of the angel, shielding him with your body and only adding to the demon’s rage. 

His thumb swiped over your navel in such an feather-like touch, that you felt goosebumps blossom on your skin; your hands failing in finding purchase on the wall in front of you as your knees threatened to buckle underneath you. The quiet stillness that surrounded you, made you even more aware of the suffocating sexual tension; and you suddenly found yourself hoping that Dean would say something, anything, to break the silence. 

You were practically hyperventilating when his lips ghosted over the sensitive patch of skin right underneath your ear, and the smirk you could feel etched on them, made it crystal clear that he was waiting for you to speak up, “Dean?” You couldn’t bring your voice to come out louder than a whisper, but he didn’t complain as he hummed to urge you to keep talking. 

“I-uh… I’m sorry?” You stopped for a second, to give him time to reply and when he didn’t, you went on, “We went to the bar to have some fun together, and I, ehm-I shouldn’t have flirted with that guy…” There were a few seconds of silence where you waited for him to process your apology, and just as you were about to open your mouth to add something else he spoke up, “Would you have slept with him?" 

You almost chocked on the breath you were taking, so you had to swallow a couple of times before you managed to croak out a weak 'What?’. The hold he had around your waist tightened, and he brought his lips directly against your ear, "Would you have let him fuck you if I hadn’t been there, (Y/n)?” A blush was permanently etched on your cheeks, and you opened your mouth to speak a couple of times before you settled on a shake of your head. 

Placing your hands against his chest, was the only thing you could think off to placate him, and thankfully it worked in diverting his attention for a couple of seconds, “Uh…Cas? You should go take care of those bees we were talking about…” The angel could be a little clueless sometimes, that was why you’d agreed with him that whenever you brought up the bees, he would leave. 

Your hands, slowly and carefully, inched up his torso; your left going to rest on his stubbly cheek, while the other settled on the side of his neck, “Dean? Dean, look at me!” Shivers travelled down your spine when his jade eyes focused on your face, taking their time to lock on your (e/c) ones. You felt against the palm of your hand the way his heartbeat slowed down; his breathing turning back to normal. 

You shook yourself out of the stupor, and cleared your throat. You were shocked by the question, the old Dean would’ve never asked you such a thing, and you found yourself more than a little taken aback that he had. There was a beat of silence which gave you the time to realize just how loud your heartbeat was, “'Course not. 'Cause I’m the one you want, ain’t that right, princess?” Your breathing stuttered at his words. 

It was all because of that smoldering look Dean’d flashed you, the image kept playing on a loop in your head, making it absolutely impossible for you to get one wink of sleep; certainly not with the damp fabric of your underwear sticking to your core. You’d waited until both brothers had called it a night, before gingerly slipping from the bed you shared with Sam, and tip-toeing to the bathroom.

You’d turned on the water, hoping for it to drown out the small sighs you knew would undoubtedly escape you. Your underwear were soaked by the time you’d pushed them down your legs, fingers immediately seeking the throbbing bundle of nerves that’d been begging for some attention for the better half of the night. 

“I-ehm…what-?” He chuckled again, the sound deep and rich, sending shivers travelling down your spine, “Sammy might sleep as a rock, sweetheart, but I don’t. I heard those filthy, little sounds you were making that night…” You swallowed thickly, hoping for those sounds to be the only thing he’d heard. 

“Heard the way my name tumbled past those gorgeous lips of yours.” The blush that’d taken residence on your cheeks, spread down your neck and chest, and you found yourself once more glad to be facing the wall. You chewed on your bottom lip, raking your brain for something, anything, that could make a good excuse as to why you were moaning his name. 

Dean was pretending to be asleep, the usual adrenaline that cursed through his body after a hunt was somewhat heightened by the Mark of Cain, resulting in him having a harder time sleeping more times than not. He was laying on his back, eyes closed as he waited for unconsciousness to claim him, when he heard you slowly slip out of bed.  Thinking nothing of it, he decided to keep working on relaxing, that was of course until he heard you release a low, needy whimper.

His body reacted immediately to the sound; length straining against the soft fabric of his boxers as his pulse quickened at the realisation of what you were doing. Dean’d always seen masturbation, just like sex, as a natural act, something to appease one of the many animal urges. However knowing that you, the woman his human self pined over, were only a couple of feet away taking care of your needs was a completely different story. 

The tip of his nose gingerly brushed its way along your neck, making you tremble in his arms which made him release a satisfied sigh, “Do you have any idea how fucking hard it was not to walk into that bathroom and give you exactly what you were begging for?” You swallowed again as all the moisture in your body seemed to be travelling down to gather in your already ruined underwear. 

A vivid image of how that night could’ve gone if he’d acted on his want flashed through your mind; your body reacting at the sound of his voice as a shudder racked through you, “Talk to me, sweetheart, tell me. Who were you begging for, hum?” You inhaled sharply, your eyes closing for a second as you tried to ground yourself in the moment. 

“I was-uh, I was begging for you” He hummed his satisfaction at your answer, his lips placing a soft, barely-there peck to the sensitive spot under your ear, “What about me? What did you want me to do to you?” He trailed his lips down along the column of your neck, just barely brushing them over your flushed skin. 

“I wanted you to-ugh-to fuck me” He nipped at your pulse point; the change from his light caresses to the rough pull of his teeth, making your head spin, “Yeah?” You nodded, swallowing thickly as his hand snaked up your stomach, his calloused fingers a stark contrast to your soft and delicate skin. 

By the time you’d made it to the bunker, Dean’s fingers were digging in your thigh, threatening to leave their bruised mark on your body. You didn’t dare move nor speak, even the sound of the harsh breaths you were inhaling sounding too loud to your nervous state. You could tell he was mad, furious actually, and now with the Mark of Cain, the smallest of things could make him snap. 

Dean turned you around to face him, a soft gasp escaping your lips when instead of brilliant green eyes, you found yourself staring into black, bottomless pools of darkness, “How did you want me to fuck you?” You squeaked in surprise when he easily hoisted you up, his hands landing on your ass to keep you secure in his hold, “I-ehm…well-" 

He grinned mischievously at the furious blush on your cheeks, pulling your hips closer until they were flush with his own; your shoulders resting on the wall as your arms went around his neck, "Did you want it slow and steady, huh? Did you want me to take my time and turn you into a begging, whimpering mess for me?" 

You’d waited until he’d calmed slightly down and exited the car, before following him. His shoulders were stiff and his jaw still clenched, informing you of just how tense he still was. Counting to ten and bringing your heartbeat in check, or at least trying to, you caught up with him and gently took a hold of his wrist, turning him to face you. 

"You better let go of me, sweetheart” You shook your head, slightly tightening your grasp as you stood your ground, “Dean, you can’t keep pushing me away and then get jealous if I flirt with someone else. I’m human, I have needs. And if you-” He pulled you flush to his body, his eyes turning pitch black as they bored into you. 

He rolled his hips then, his shaft gently pushing and prodding as you closed your eyes and relished in the slight amount friction he gave you, “Or maybe you like it rough. You do, don’t ya? Bet you wanted me to bend you over and have my fucking way with you. Fuck you hard and fast 'till you were screaming my name 'cause you’re my dirty, little girl.”

“Do you have any fucking idea what I could do to you, sweetheart?” You swallowed, blinking up at him as you tried to compose yourself, “You won’t hurt me.” He chuckled then, a low, humourless chuckle that the eerie halls made even more menacing, “What makes you so sure huh?” You licked your dry lips, before you smiled at him, “You’ve had plenty of chances, and you never did." 

You were already moaning when he picked up his rhythm, thrusting against you with purpose, as his left hand trailed up your body stopping to roughly squeeze your breast, "I wanna hear you say it, (Y/n).” He brought his hand to tangle in your hair, making you open your eyes and lock them on his, “I-I want you to fuck m-me hard and fast cause-cause I’m your d-dirty, little girl, Dean!" 

"You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew the things I wanna do to ya” His right hand went to wrap around your throat, and as threatening as he’d wanted it to be, the only thing it did was spike your arousal, “I wanna know, I want you to show me. I want you to fucking ruin me for any other man, Dean. Plea-” He crushed his lips on yours in a bruising kiss then, his teeth biting and pulling at the plump flesh. 

Your hands moved on their own accord as they found his hair, running through the soft strands as you moaned to inform him of how much you loved his new hairstyle. He took the chance to push his tongue past your lips then, dominating the kiss as he mapped out your mouth.  A small whimper left your swollen lips as your back connected with the wall; your eyes lifting up to lock on Dean’s darkened ones once more, “What would Sammy say if he saw you right now, huh?”

[spnfanficpond]

April 1st is my b-day. Yay! So…I wanted to make a challenge to celebrate my birthday with my Tumblr peeps. I put two of my favorite things together, horror films and smut. :D Everyone is welcome to...

[ao3feed-castiel]

Bad boy's charm

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2wAimgZ

by TheWeirdyMcWeirderson

This was supposed to be for Lexie's SPN Birthday Challenge. The prompt was My Bloody Valentine + Demon!Dean × Reader.

Things get heated between Dean and the Reader after a late night "argument"

Words: 3608, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena

Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You, Demon Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester & You, Dean Winchester & Reader

Additional Tags: Smut, Roughness, Kissing, Language, Dirty Talk, Jealousy, Possessive Dean Winchester, Demon!Dean, My Bloody Valentine - Freeform, Spanking

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2wAimgZ

[roxy-davenport]

Your birthday challenge can I have Public sex, Skeleton or I'll find her and bring her home with Leviathan Cas

You got it all hun. Love the prompts you choose. Thanks for joining. Have fun. :D

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[roxy-davenport]

Hello my dear! I'm going to chip in for your Birthday and write you a Benny x (sassy) Reader fluffy smut. :) Reader on top, Movie: IT, and dialogue: “Are you flirting with me?” I hope you like this...I've never written for Benny before, but he's got a great accent and some lovely scruff and pretty eyes...I'm sure I'll make do. :D

Hey hun.Yay! I’m so glad you joined. :D And with Benny. Yay! Pulling out all the stops- sassy reader and fluffy smut…yes please. :D I’m so excited about this. I’m sure I will love it. Hehe yes let the scruff, sexy accent and dreamy eyes guide you. :D

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[roxy-davenport]

For your birthday challenge can I have 9. Mine is bigger or 16. Why do I even bother with AU/demon Cas

You got “Mine is bigger.”, AU demon Cas and you wanted Skeleton Key. Thanks for joining hun. Have fun. :D

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[roxy-davenport]

Hey Lexie! I'd like to sign up for your B-Day Challenge. Can I do a Crowley x Reader, with "It (1990)" and "Why do I even bother?" (alternative - "Mind if I cut in?")? I'd give an alt for the movie, but I really don't know any of the others. Oops. Thanks!

Hey hun. I’m so happy you signed up. You got Crowley, “It” and “Why do I bother?” Yay! More Crowley. *snoopy dance which is my happy dance.* 

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[roxy-davenport]

Hi I'm new to Tumblr and this is the first challenge I'm signing up for. Can I have from column D. 18. Your my one exception Or 20. I fall for the worst ones? I'd like to do Crowley but if too many people are already doing him, I'll take Castifer

Welcome to Tumblr hun. If you need any help with Tumblr don’t hesitant to message me. Your first challenge. awesome. :D 18 is yours. A Crowley fic…yay! And you wanted Friday the 13. Thanks so much for joining hun. Have fun. 

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[roxy-davenport]

I'd love to give this one a go :) Column A: AU Demon!Cas x Reader, Column B: Phone Sex, Column C: 13. One Missed Call, and Column D: 7. "I can smell your arousal from here." And it'll be written under @neversatisfiedgirl

Yay! Demon!Cas with those prompts, love it. :D Thank you for joining, hun. Have fun.

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