#demon!dean winchester x y/n | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesilmarillionblog · 1 month ago

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HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DEMON

Summary: Dean is consumed by darkness, and your body is consumed by his. He wants you to realize that his new self is superior and demands that you enjoy his demon form.

Pairing: Demon Dean / F! Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUT!!!, angst, hurt, rough demon dean, demon has a praise kink, unprotected sex, somno kink!, naive and smart reader, fluff in the end, angst with happy ending

Word Count: 4206

A/N: English is not my first language.

It felt so lovely to feel the rough hands on your skin and hips after a long night of sleep. Though Dean had returned at last, you were too exhausted to speak up. All you could hear was him calling out to you; you were unable to respond. All you wanted was for him to touch you softly because you enjoyed it a lot and his touches would help you go to sleep.

He was taking off his jeans and t-shirt. You could hear it. You mumbled to him to come by your side already, as you smiled sleepily, hoping that he would crawl next to you and take you in his arms. However, as sleep overtook your body and mind, the words you were speaking vanished on the air.

Dean moved onto you and used an aggressive movement to shove the covers off your thighs and up your nightie. Your body froze, shivering. His hardness was palpable behind you, poking your back as though to rouse you from slumber.

You cried in agony as he tore off your underwear without uttering a word; the abrupt motion of the torn lace burned your flesh. He extended your legs wide as you kept murmuring his name to let him know that he should be acting more gently, as he usually did. He took himself in hand, grunting like a beast, his cock cold behind you. It had been a while since you had sex.

While he was getting ready to fuck you from behind, you were exhausted. You meant to offer him an opportunity to sleep tonight and give him everything he needed in the morning, but it seemed as though you had forgotten how to talk when you spoke. You were just too tired.

You whimpered in pain as Dean was inside of you with a single, violent push. But when you heard him sigh with pleasure like he was an animal, you remained silent. You decided to give him what he needed because of this.

As his hands tightly grabbed your thighs, you heard him nearly laugh with joy. “Now that's a good warm cunt,” he said. You were unable to stop moaning in pain once more.

You managed to say, "Baby, slow down,” with your eyes closed. You made an effort to ignore the ache in your legs and return to sleep. While there was pleasure as well, it hurt to see how quickly and without warning he started to fuck you like he didn't care how you felt. It was the first time he had shown such self-centeredness.

He growled fiercely, “Shut the fuck up,” as he continued to slam your pussy from behind and tightened his grasp on both of your hips to get your body beneath him in a more proper position. His balls and hips slamming into your pussy was creating wet and obscene noises, and now your ass was in the air; they were bruised under his merciless hands.

You were worried about his reaction. Dean didn't seem like himself. You predicted that perhaps something had irritated him or gotten under his skin, and he felt comfortable enough to use your body in this way to calm himself down. Nevertheless, despite all that occurred in his life, Dean was always kind to you and never did anything to cause you pain. Especially not when you had sex.

Your fingers firmly gripped the sheets, and your eyes welled up with tears as Dean continued using your body as he liked it. “Take it. That's how you should get fucked. Are you crying already?” He chuckled, becoming even more thrilled at hearing your whimper. “I'm going to fuck your little whimpering pussy like this from now on.”

You said, “Dean, baby, slow down,” as your body fluctuated between pleasure and pain. “I can't take it.”

“You're taking it good right now, so shut up,” he firmly said, pressing your head against the blankets and collecting your hair in his palm. He was just keeping your head still; it wasn't like he was trying to choke you. You were powerless against his unusual strength.

Rather than engaging in conflict with him and escalating his rage, you chose to lose yourself in the pleasure he was offering in between the pain that he caused. He focused on the way his thick cock moved into you; it slipped easily inside you. He was quickly and brutally pounding it within your pussy. You let out a cry of delight when he found your most sensitive spot.

“Oh fuck, yes!” As Dean used all of his power to fuck your throbbing pussy and restrain you from moving, it began to feel nice. You needed him to take his hands off of your hips because the pain started to hit hard. But there was enough pleasure in the way he squeezed your hips and smashed his cock inside of you to make your walls contract around his hard.

You could hear him groan with satisfaction. You attempted to give his body what it needed at this moment, sensing that he just wanted to be tough right now. You could discuss the issue tomorrow, whatever it was. After all, he was dealing with far too many awful things, and you wanted to support him up the same way his tender side lightened you in other days.

You screamed out his name as your walls clenched around him and your climax finally hit. He released his hold on your hair and placed his hand next to your head on the bed. You placed your lips on his wrist to quiet your moans and show him how much you cared about him and loved him; you wanted him to know that you understood him.

He slowed down for a moment, but not before looking for his own pleasure. He needed to come.

You mumbled, “Please, come inside, Dean,” hoping that would help him.

He laughed and said, “You want me to come inside?” before fucking you raw once again.

“Yes, please,” you whimpered. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to bear the way he wrecked your skin as your orgasm faded, and he continued to torment you by hitting your most sensitive spot.

“Quit behaving like a whiny bitch. Going to fill you full. Fuck. Do you want it inside?” Squeezing your hips so tight that your tears dropped to the covers, and he nearly yelled, “Take it then!”

He kept filling you with your hot seed, and no matter how hard you struggled to get free, each time he used his power to show that there was nowhere for you to go. This time, as soon as he gave your hurt ass a very hard spank, you couldn't hold back your tears. In addition to the pleasure, there was also an immense deal of pain. As you waited for him to release himself inside of you, your legs shaken. At least you were on the pill.

Your body was still shaking from pleasure and stress as he pulled out his cock with a rough move and dropped to your side with a loud, satisfied grunt. It was the first time Dean treated you in this manner. You were emotionally wrecked by the way he treated you since he was always so compassionate and gentle. You felt everything except for his love for you.

Dean laughed out loud, taking a deep breath as his whole body shook with ecstasy. The result was satisfying. The way you called out his name and then sobbed after made him extremely pleased, knowing that the body he was in was used to fuck you nice and slowly. That was the proper way to fuck you.

Finally, adjusting his messy hair on the bed, he murmured, “Stop fucking crying.” Now all he needed was sleep.

After you had rolled over on the bed to face him and discuss whatever was bothering him, you were going to say something sharp, but you froze when the full dark, devil-like eyes that were ordering you to shut up. Gripping the t-shirt on your body as though you needed a place to hide, you held your breath in terror. You felt stuck there and wanted to get out of the room. You knew you should have called Sam or Cas at that point. The better option would be Cas. But you didn't know how he would react if you called someone.

When his eyes went green again, you said softly, “Dean?” but you knew then that he was someone else. When he suddenly started acting as if he wanted to kill you and fuck you at the same time, you should have known better. “What happened to you?”

He appeared unhappy with your inquiry as he rolled his eyes at you. “Just go back to sleep,” he snapped. “Should I mount you again? Aren't you worn out already?”

You muttered, attempting to figure out what was wrong and what he had done to himself. “I don't understand,” you said. You knew just that he wasn't himself and that you desperately wanted him back.

Thinking quickly, you realized that if you had moved to avoid him, or even worse, if you had attempted to contact Cas or Sam, he could have seriously injured you. Thus, reluctantly, in spite of all the aches and bruises on your body, you place your shaking hands on his chest. Although you were bodily in pain, your heart was hurting more because you knew Dean was turned into a kind of demon. You felt lonely.

As soon as you put your hand on his chest out of fear, you believed there could be a way to reach out to him and at least make him act nicer. This time, your eyes were filled with fear and anxiety that if you didn't behave the way he wanted, he may truly hurt you.

You said, trembling uncontrollably, “Are we okay?”

You felt vulnerable, even with his come still dripping between your legs, but at least his t-shirt covered your legs, which were trembling from terror and cold.

“Why are you talking so much? Did I not tell you to go to sleep? I’m fucking tired of your questions,” He said furiously. You nearly withdrew your hand to yourself when he spoke to you and gave you such a piercing look, but instead you drew nearer to him and carefully laid your body on his lap because you wanted to feel him. You moved a little hesitantly, but he didn't stop you.

You said, your voice trembling with sorrow, “Why did you hurt me?” You hoped he would understand you while your hands lingered around his tattoo.

“Hurt you?” he said, laughing aloud as he raised your t-shirt to reveal your painful pussy to his body. He stopped you by your hips as you tried to get away from his grip out of panic. “Does your handsome Dean give you tender, sweet fuck? It's not a decent fuck if he doesn't make you weep. Keep that in your little mind.”

“I don't like this kind of animalistic sex. I hated it. It hurts all over now,” you complained, raising your voice a bit in the middle of it. You felt instant regret. “What did you to yourself?”

He sharply warned you, pressing his hands tighter on your skin. “Rise your voice to me again, and I'll break your legs,” he exclaimed.

As you remained motionless and considered what to say, he let out a quick sigh and stared at your pussy eagerly. “Wasn't it good enough? Tell me that I'm superior to your soft-ass boyfriend. Tell me you liked the fuck I fucked you raw.”

“I didn't know you had a praise kink,” you muttered, attempting not to laugh out loud this time.

You quickly answered, “You're better,” as soon as his expression shifted and he gave you a look that implied he wanted to murder you. “I'm really satisfied though.”

He offered you a sly smile and looked pleased, even though it was evident that you were lying to him to calm him down. He grumbled, “Oh, yeah?” You stiffened up, feeling his hardness beneath you. “Did you like it when I used your body as I wanted while you cried for me to slow down?”

You still nod to him even if the comments wounded you and brought to memory how much he violated your body for his own pleasure. You needed him to trust you if you wanted to protect yourself from this. For this reason, you didn't attempt to run away from his harsh touch since you desperately wanted him back. Dean attempted to get you to bow down to him once again as his eyes went completely black, as if he wanted to show you what he had become, but you immediately resisted and moved on top of him.

You knew he wasn't himself to listen to you just now, but you couldn't bear him like this again. There was no escape from his abuse. To resist him would only make things worse.

You begged, “Please.” If you told him you didn't want, you knew he wouldn't listen. “Let me...be on top this time. Please.”

With your fingers caressing his thick neck and jaw, you continued to plead with him, thinking that at least if you were on top, you might make him torture you less. “Please, let me satisfy you.”

"All right, you greedy cunt.” He pulled off your t-shirt, threatening to "fuck you harder than before if I don't like it." He growled low. Your whole body shook from the cold weather. But the way he treated you and his actions caused the fright. He'd do as he told you, you knew.

He took himself in hand and positioned his aching cock in your entrance once more, and you climbed on top of him, whispering, "Okay," trying to ignore the pain.

He thrust himself in you, gripping your hips tightly, and you bit your lips until they bled, pushing back your moan. It was unbearable. “Do you like it?” he grinned and said. He was having fun watching you up there.

“I like it a lot.” You lie in spite of your distress because. You were so in need of Dean's return that you started crying. You also wanted his soft hands to calm you down.

When you told him he was better, at least, he seemed to like it.

“It appears that you're mostly on top. Like he's the girl; he's so fucking weak and lazy. Pathetic.”

You remained silent and did your best not to talk about how much you like Dean's cute side and how much you enjoyed it when he treated you gently while the demon Dean was talking bullshit.

Rather than seeming submissive, you said, “It's nice to be at the top when you're tired.” Nevertheless, it wasn't. It was Dean's thoughtfulness that you found adorable. You were more pleased than anything by the sense of comfort he gave you.

His body tensed as he yelled, “Do it better,” beginning to lose his sh*t already

Being so afraid and having him staring at you as if he may shatter your bones at any moment made it difficult to maintain composure.

Despite your pain, you fully took him and started riding him in the way that he preferred while gazing into his eyes with your teary ones

You placed your hands on his jaw and kissed him gently to let him know how much you cared and to feel connected to him no matter what. His body stiffened for a moment, and you could feel his confusion.

While he lay on the pillow and you kissed him, his hands gripped you tightly from your belly and began to pound into your pussy hard and fast. You continued to respond to his fierce kisses with kindness and softness to demonstrate your love, even though he was kissing you harshly and turning your lips red.

You attempted to soothe him, to stop him from pounding into you like a dog in heat, by placing your hands on his. “Let me ride you, please.” You whimpered to get him to stop, fearing that his harsh touch would cause you to break down. “I want to satisfy you too, remember?”

“Fine!”

You moved very carefully on top of him, kissed every spot of his neck, and said, “You're better.” Than this. You didn't say anything to indicate that you needed him or that you weren't worried if he hurt you as long as he came back to you. Rather, you just moved on his cock and did your best to ignore your own suffering.

He only grumbled, “Hmm,” and slightly relaxed his grip when he noticed your pace quickening. His hands squeezed your tits harshly, but then, unexpectedly, they began to feel a bit softer. Yes, he was definitely sleepy.

“I want to satisfy you and make you happy, just like you do to me,” you sobbed into his ear as you could feel his cock throb and he was coming closer.

You pleaded with him, “Please, Dean,” as you gave him a gentle kiss on his neck and face. “Please, come to me.”

He abruptly roared, “Stop talking!” and used his hard hands to put pressure on your hips.

He began to moan in satisfaction as he pounded into you again, making you cry out in pain. Your most sensitive spots were being crashed by his pulsing cock, which made your aching walls clench him once more. You tried your best to stay focused, but the pain mainly overshadowed the pleasure.

When at last you cried out in agony, “Please, Dean. I need to come around your cock too. Would you please loosen your hands a little? I'm so badly hurt that I'm not able to feel anything.”

Taking a deep breath, he angrily said, “You complain so much!” He was bored of your attitude. But once he saw you were having trouble performing at your best, his hands unexpectedly grew softer, and they rested on your back, as if he were making an effort not to pound into you hard again. “Come now or I'm going to get you on your knees right now.”

Fortunately, your orgasm hit again as you forced your body to experience the pleasure while you pretended nothing was wrong. You would be in hell otherwise. With a loud grunt, Dean joined you, his hands stilling your hips. Now that his head was resting on the cushion and your hands were pushing his chest while you yelled out, the manner he touched you was harmless enough. You bit your lip hard, praying he was exhausted enough to sleep while his white ropes painted your walls.

He said, “Get off of me now!” after he was done.

You murmured, “I'm cold,” as your body began to shiver. You felt exposed.

“And what do you want me to do about that? Go get dressed then.”

You picked up your belongings off the floor and informed him it was okay for him to say such awful things, affirming that he was superior to his soft side—a complete lie—while he went on to rant about how much you were whining like a bitch while putting on his clothes. You ignored him since all you wanted was for him to feel more at ease. Taking your phone as your heart was racing, you informed him you would take a shower, but he didn't seem to care since he was snoring immediately.

As you were ready to pass away from panic, you contacted Sam and Cas to let them know everything that had transpired, including how Dean had gone insane and turned demonic. With trembling fingers, you were rapidly messaging them. When you told Cas, you were hoping he would arrive first. You quickly showered, and then you turned to the room before Dean could suspect and boost you. Once he realized exactly what you were doing, you knew he would fuck the shit out of you.

You sighed with relief when you noticed Dean was sound asleep, and you passed the time on the bed just waiting for Cas to arrive.

You stood between Sam and Cas, watching Dean, who was now strapped onto a chair and wearing handcuffs, stare at you as if he planned to murder you the moment he was free. Dean was about to depart when Cas showed up, but he was unable to make it. Thank goodness.

"You're a dead woman, you stupid sneaky bitch," he glared at you and muttered.

He emphasized the final phrase so strongly that you jumped and had to hide behind Cas to keep Demon Dean at bay as you gasped in fear. He hated you for betraying him and for preventing him from getting some sleep.

“Still smarter than you,” Cas said harshly.

You raised your voice and yelled, “You can't do a shit to me.” You grew bold this time, thinking Cas would stop him if he tried to break free from the restraints. “Sam and Cas are going to help you.”

He yelled, “I should have broken your legs,” before you could even complete your statement.

“You should not have assumed that I would accept you this way in the first place.” As Cas closed his eyes as though he was done with both of your bullshit, Dean was losing himself in rage. “Save your energy, love,” you teased. “I'll be having great time with Dean and his very sweet soft side once Cas is done with you!”

“Lord,” Cas whispered as he slightly turned to look at how you hidden yourself behind him. You had gripped his coat with your fingertips as though you were a koala and he was the tree. Actually, you were willing to throw Cas as a sacrifice if Dean managed to get away. God forbid.

You cling anxiously to his coat, but Cas eventually stops him before he loses his shit and threatens you with even worse things. Sam was massaging his head and done with his brother's mess.

You watched with a heavy heart as Dean came back; the gloomy clouds that had fallen on him and you had vanished. When he realized what he had done to you and himself, his eyes became wide with fear. You could feel the shock and remorse he was feeling. After exchanging glances and confirming that there was no longer any cause for concern, Cas and Sam departed the room. Of course they would speak with Dean eventually, but not just now. At first, you were so terrified that you couldn't stop shaking, thinking that his demonic form would return and fulfill his vow.

Your despair revealed itself once again, and your eyes sparkled with relief and happiness. The longer you stared at him, the more his actions and words wounded you. Still, that was irrelevant now. As he stood up and watched you take off his chains and everything, Dean was trying to think of anything to say to make up for what he had done to you.

Now he stood in front of you, breathing deeply. You hugged him hard as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. Regaining his warmth and affection was all you needed; words or excuses weren't necessary. You needed to know and feel that you were safe now.

Your desperate embrace was instantly met with his hands drawing you nearer to him.

You didn't want him to feel this way any longer, but he whispered, “I can't believe what I have done,” with embarrassment and sorrow. “God, I'm so sorry.”

You interrupted him with, “It's okay,” as you put your lips to his neck and smelled his hair. Everything was fine. “Just promise me that you are going to talk with me no matter what happens. Don't shut me out, Dean.”

“I promise,” he sucked in a pained breath. His hands gripped your cheeks, forcing you to turn to face him. “I will never let this happen again. Never. I swear.”

You smiled at him with teary eyes and stated, “You better,” trying not to break down and worsen his feelings. “Demon Dean, your other form, vowed to the gods that he would kill me. He certainly meant it. In addition, he threatened to break my legs. I don't think he was joking.”

He kissed you tenderly and said, “It won't happen again,” as he started his regretful apologies.

“We are going to be alright. I love you, Dean. Always remember this.” You removed his hand from your cheeks and gave his wounded palm an affectionate kiss. “Never forger this,” you said quietly.

He held you tightly to his chest and murmured, “I won't. I love you. I will fix this, I swear.”

The pain he had brought about before vanished beneath his sincere and compassionate words. His arms wrapped firmly around you, giving you a sense of protection that erased the anxiety that he had caused. Although you knew it would take time for your body to recover, you knew your love was powerful enough to cure both of your hearts.

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lila-lou · 9 months ago

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✨Beyond saving✨

Summary: Dean became a demon and left you overnight. Three months have passed since then, in which you wanted nothing more than for him to finally come back. However, when he returned, it became painfully clear that he could no longer be saved.

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Rape, Language, Angst, Hurt, Violence, Humiliation - it´s just pure darkness

Word Count: 4289

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You sat alone in the bunker, your breaths shallow and pained, the echoes of recent battles still reverberating in your mind. Sam, fueled by determination and desperation, had embarked on a relentless search for Dean, accompanied by Castiel. Left behind, you nursed your injuries.

Your ribs ached with every breath, a testament to the encounters with some demons in your relentless search for Dean. Each shadow seemed to whisper his name, taunting you with his absence.

Cradling your injured side, you sank into the cold embrace of a chair, the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon you. How long had it been since Dean had disappeared into the night, consumed by the darkness that had claimed him? The minutes stretched into eternity, each tick of the clock echoing the ache in your heart.

Outside, the world continued to spin, oblivious to the turmoil within the bunker's walls. But for you, time stood still, trapped in a limbo of fear and longing. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind, raised hopes that Dean would materialize before you, his familiar presence a balm to your weary soul.

But as the weeks slipped by, despair threatened to overwhelm you.

In the depths of your despair, a voice whispered a gentle reminder: hope. It was a fragile thread, woven with memories of shared laughter and whispered promises.

With each heartbeat, you whispered a silent vow to never give up on Dean, to keep fighting until he was safely by your side once more.

Two long weeks had passed since Sam and Cas had departed, leaving you to grapple with the silence that hung heavy in their absence. And three months had slipped by since Dean, consumed by the darkness of his demonic transformation, had vanished into the night, his departure leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill.

As you made your way to the kitchen, your movements slow and deliberate, the pain in your ribs flared with every breath.

Reaching the refrigerator, you paused, your hand hovering over the handle as a wave of loneliness washed over you. The prospect of facing another day without Dean, without the warmth of his presence, felt like an insurmountable burden. But you couldn't afford to succumb to despair, not when there was still a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness.

With a determined exhale, you opened the refrigerator door, the cool air washing over you. Amidst the assortment of food and beverages, your fingers closed around a cold bottle of beer, the familiar label offering a brief respite from the ache that threatened to consume you.

Bringing the bottle to your lips, you took a long swallow. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to linger in the memories of happier times, when laughter had filled the air and the future had seemed full of endless possibilities.

That’s when you heard heavy footsteps echoed through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine as they drew closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and longing coursing through your veins. You knew without a doubt who stood seconds later right behind you, his presence a familiar yet chilling presence that sent a tremor of apprehension rippling through your body.

Dean.

The name hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of everything that had transpired in the months since his transformation into a demon. Three long months had passed since you had last seen him.

And now, as he stood mere inches away, his chest pressed against your back, you couldn't bring yourself to turn around. The air crackled with tension, thick with unspoken words and the palpable sense of danger that surrounded him.

You felt his breath ghost across the nape of your neck, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within him. The urge to turn and face him, to confront the demon that wore Dean's face, warred with the instinct to flee, to put as much distance between you and his darkness.

But as the seconds stretched into eternity, you remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the fear that gripped you like a vice. Dean wasn't here to do nice things, of that you were certain. He was a harbinger of chaos, a reminder of the perilous path he had chosen.

And yet, despite the fear that coiled in the pit of your stomach, there remained a flicker of hope, a tiny ember that refused to be extinguished. Deep down, buried beneath the layers of uncertainty and despair, you held onto the belief that somewhere within the depths of the demon that stood behind you, a fragment of the real Dean still existed.

But as the moments ticked by, the silence stretching taut between you, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt that whispered in the recesses of your mind. Would Dean ever be the same again? Or had he been consumed entirely by the darkness that now held him in its thrall?

With a trembling hand, you reached for the bottle of beer on the counter, the cold glass a tangible anchor in the storm of emotions that raged within you. And as you took a fortifying sip, steeling yourself for whatever came next.

Dean's voice cut through the silence like a blade, his words laced with a dark edge that sent a shiver down your spine. "Sweetheart", he drawled, the term dripping with mockery, a cruel reminder of the tender endearments he had once whispered in your ear. "Missed me, did you?", he taunted, his tone sending a chill down your spine.

You could feel his presence behind you, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. The sensation sent a wave of unease washing over you, his proximity a stark reminder of the danger that lurked within him.

But even as his lips brushed against your ear, sending a shudder of revulsion coursing through you, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. The memory of the man you had once loved, the man buried beneath the darkness that now consumed him, lingered in the recesses of your mind, a faint echo of a love that refused to die.

And as his lips lingered against your ear, his touch a visceral reminder of the danger that surrounded you, you felt a flicker of defiance ignite within you. Steeling yourself against the fear that threatened to consume you, you squared your shoulders and met his gaze head-on.

"Dean". you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, "this isn't you. I know you're still in there, somewhere"-. It was a desperate plea, a faint glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf you both.

But as you spoke, the shadow that lurked behind his eyes seemed to deepen. And though you longed to reach out and pull him back from the brink, to save him from the darkness that haunted him, you knew that the battle ahead would be fraught with peril.

For Dean wasn't just fighting against the darkness within him; he was fighting against the very essence of his own soul.

Dean’s words struck you like a barrage of bullets, each one piercing your heart with a searing pain that threatened to consume you.

“All I want is to fuck that tight little pussy of yours”, he sneered, his voice dripping with venomous lust. “Tried so many girls these past few weeks, but none of them felt like you”.

Your breath caught in your throat. His words were like a dagger to your soul, shredding any remaining fragments of hope or love you had clung to.

As he pressed you against the unforgiving surface of the kitchen counter, his touch rough and unforgiving, you felt a surge of pain shoot through your body. Bruises blossomed beneath his fingertips. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

You were overwhelmed, broken by his actions and his words, but you refused to let him break you completely.

“Stop talking”, you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel symphony of mockery that reverberated in your ears like a relentless assault. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't tell me you're jealous", he taunted, his voice dripping with derision as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. "You wanna know how I fucked all those other girls while you were out there playing the hero, searching for me?".

The words hit you. You had risked everything to find him, to believe in the possibility of redemption, only to be met with scorn and betrayal.

But despite the pain, despite the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to consume you, you refused to let him see your weakness.

"Go ahead", you spat, your voice laced with a bitter edge. "Show me. Show me just how little I meant to you. How easily you threw away everything we had".

And as he smirked, his features twisted with triumph, you braced yourself for the inevitable onslaught of pain and humiliation. Dean wasn't the man you had loved; he was a monster, a demon wearing the face of the man you once knew.

But even as he moved closer, his hands reaching for you with a hunger that made your skin crawl, you refused to back down. You were broken, yes, but you were not defeated. And as you stood your ground in the face of his darkness.

Dean's eyes gleamed as he leaned in closer. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea", he snarled, before he gripped your wrists with a force that made you flinch.

"I'm about to show you just how hard I fucked those sluts", he continued, his voice low and menacing. "Hard enough to land them in the hospital. They begged for it, you know. Begged for the touch of a real man".

The bile rose in your throat at his words, a sickening mixture of disgust and despair threatening to choke you. How could he speak of such violence with such casual indifference?

But even as the questions raced through your mind, you knew there would be no answers. Dean was lost. And as he moved closer, his hands trailing down your body with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl, you knew that this was about to get messy.

Dean's voice dripped with disdain as he sneered, "Where's your motivation, huh? You call yourself a hunter, but here you are, doing nothing to stop me". His words cut through the air like a whip, each syllable laced with hate.

You gritted your teeth against the surge of anger that threatened to consume you, meeting his gaze with a defiant glare. "My motivation", you spat, your voice trembling with suppressed rage, "is to stop you from hurting anyone else. To stop you from causing any more pain and suffering."

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel mockery. "You really think you can stop me?", he taunted. "At the end of the night, sweetheart, I'll get what I came for. And there's nothing you can do to stop me".

“You´re pathetic, Dean”.

Dean's hand struck your cheek with a brutal force, the sharp crack of skin against skin echoing through the kitchen. Pain exploded across your face, a searing heat that radiated through every fiber of your being. You stumbled backward, the force of the blow sending you crashing against the wall, the impact jolting your already broken ribs.

Stars danced at the edges of your vision as you fought to regain your bearings, struggling to draw breath through the haze of pain that enveloped you. But even as you gasped for air, the taste of blood filling your mouth, you refused to let him see your weakness.

Dean loomed over you, his features contorted with a twisted mixture of triumph and cruelty. "Is that fire I see in you now, sweetheart?", he sneered, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Good. Because I want something to burn while I fuck you".

Your fists pounded against Dean's chest, each blow fueled by a desperate fury that threatened to consume you. But his laughter only grew louder.

"Aw, sweetheart, is that the best you can do?", he taunted. "I expected more from a hunter like you. But I guess I overestimated your abilities".

With a primal scream, you launched yourself at him once more, determined to land a blow that would wipe the smirk from his face.

But before your fist could connect, Dean moved with speed, his hand closing around your wrists with a vice-like grip. Pain exploded through your body as he squeezed, the bones in your wrists grinding together with a sickening crunch.

You cried out in agony as he pushed you against the kitchen table, the unforgiving surface digging into your spine. Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled against his iron grip, but it was futile. Dean was stronger, more powerful than you could ever be.

"Look at you, all fire and fury", he sneered, his breath hot against your ear. "But in the end, you're just a weak little girl, aren't you?".

With a trembling hand, you tried to push yourself up from the table, but Dean’s hand came down with a force that sent shockwaves of pain radiating through your body. You cried out as he pushed you back down, the unforgiving surface digging into your stomach, leaving you gasping for air.

“Oh, princess, don’t strain yourself”, he mocked. “You’re much prettier when you’re lying down”.

“You know, sweetheart”, Dean taunted. “I always did like a woman who knows her place. And your place is right here, beneath me”.

Dean's laughter filled the room like a sinister symphony, his eyes gleaming with pleasure as he towered over you. "Oh, sweetheart, look at you", he taunted. "All bruised and broken, yet still trying to get up. Admirable, really".

You winced as pain shot through your broken wrists and ribs, rendering you helpless against his looming presence. Every movement sent waves of agony coursing through your body, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

With deliberate slowness, Dean reached for his belt, his fingers tracing the buckle with a predatory precision. "You know, princess", he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, "I've been looking forward to this. Been craving it ever since I left".

Your heart pounded in your chest, a sickening mixture of fear and revulsion churning in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to scream, to fight back with every fiber of your being, but the pain held you captive, a prisoner in your own body.

As Dean slowly undid his belt, a smirk played across his lips, his eyes alight with twisted desire. "You're going to love this, sweetheart", he groaned, his voice laced with a dark promise. "I'll make sure of it".

You knew what was coming, but you were powerless to stop it.

Dean's grip tightened around you as he pushed you further down the table, his movements rough. You winced as your broken wrists bore the brunt of his force, each new position sending fresh waves of pain shooting through your body.

With a smirk, Dean reached for the waistband of your shorts and panties, his fingers trailing along the fabric with a slowness that made your skin crawl. "Let's see what we have here, shall we?", he mused, his voice thick with anticipation.

As he pulled them down, exposing your dry folds to his leering gaze, a wave of humiliation washed over you. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as if every last shred of your dignity had been stripped away.

Dean's eyes alight with amusement. "Well, well, well", he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Looks like you're making this harder than it should be, sweetheart. What's the matter? Not as wet as you used to be?".

You wanted to scream, but all you could do was lie there, exposed and humiliated, as Dean continued to mock and degrade you.

"Oh, sweetheart, this is going to hurt", he chuckled.

"You always did have trouble taking me, didn't you?", Dean jeered. "But don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure you feel every inch of me".

His words struck you like a physical blow, a reminder of the intimacy you once shared, now twisted into something dark and grotesque.

You lay on your stomach on the table, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you braced yourself for what was to come. Your ass faced Dean, vulnerable and exposed, as he hovered over you.

With a chuckle, Dean reached for his jeans and boxers, pulling them down just enough to free his throbbing length.

"Oh, sweetheart, look at what you're missing out on", he taunted. "You used to beg for this, didn't you? Beg for me to fill you up until you couldn't take it anymore".

As Dean moved closer, his hands tracing the lines of your body, you felt a surge of panic rise within you. But even as you struggled against him, you knew that resistance was futile. He was too strong, too powerful, and you were helpless to stop him.

With a hard thrust, Dean tried to shove himself inside you, but your tightness proved too much for him to handle. The pain was excruciating, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Fuck", Dean cursed, his voice strained with frustration as he tried to force himself deeper. "Why do you have to be so fucking tight?".

Tears welled in your eyes as the pain intensified.

"Looks like I'll have to make do," he sneered, his voice thick with contempt as he spat down on his cock. "All because of you, princess. Can't even get wet for me anymore".

Dean gripped your hips with a brutal force, before he thrust himself forward once more. The pain was unbearable, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Please, Dean, stop", you pleaded, your voice raw with desperation. But he only laughed, the sound ringing in your ears like a mocking taunt.

"Stop?", he scoffed, his grip on your hips tightening even further. "Why would I stop when we're just getting started, sweetheart?".

Tears streamed down your cheeks, knowing that there was no escape.

With a grunt of effort, Dean pushed himself inside you with force.

You cried out, the sound muffled by the unforgiving surface of the table beneath you, as he filled you with a brutal intensity.

"Fuck", Dean groaned, his voice strained with exertion. "You're so fucking tight".

As Dean continued to thrust into you with a relentless determination, the agony intensified, threatening to overwhelm you completely.

Your body bore the marks of Dean's brutal assault, bruises already blossoming across your skin despite his relentless onslaught having barely begun. Each movement sent shockwaves of pain rippling through your broken form, the agony etched into every line and contour of your battered body.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, silent yet relentless, as you fought to endure the torment that Dean inflicted upon you.

With a cruel grip, Dean pressed your head tighter against the table, his hands exerting a crushing force that threatened to suffocate you. "You're not enjoying this as much as I am, huh?", he taunted.

And then, with a suddenness that left you reeling, he pulled out completely, leaving you gasping for air as he prepared to thrust into you once more. "Let's see how much you can take", he growled.

The table shuddered beneath you as Dean drove himself into you with a brutal force, each movement wracking your body with a searing agony that threatened to consume you whole. "You like that?", he sneered, his voice laced with amusement. "Or do I need to go harder?".

Your pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as Dean continued his assault, his grip tightening in your hair, pulling your head up with a violent force. "Tell me how much you missed my big cock", he demanded, his voice a menacing growl as he forced you to look him in the eye.

You winced as your ribs cracked even further under the strain, the pain nearly unbearable as you struggled to form words through the agony. "Please", you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I can't...I can't do this anymore. Please, Dean, just stop".

But he only laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine as he forced your head back down, his hands like vices around your hair. "Not good enough, sweetheart", he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Tell me you missed it. Tell me you've been dreaming about it every night since I left".

You choked back a sob, the words catching in your throat as you fought to resist his demands. But with each tug of his hands, each crack of your already fractured ribs, the pain became too much to bear. "I missed it", you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breaths. "I missed you".

His smirk widened at your admission.

"That's right, sweetheart", he groaned. "You missed me, didn't you? Missed my big cock pounding into you, making you scream".

With each brutal thrust, your cries of pain mingled with his laughter, the sound a symphony of torment that echoed off the walls. "Look at you", he sneered, his hands gripping your hips with a punishing force. "Crying like a little bitch while I fuck you senseless. You love it, don't you? Love being my little whore".

Dean's voice dripped with satisfaction as he hovered over you. "You feel so fucking good", he purred, his words like venom as he surveyed your broken form. "None of those other bitches could compare to you. None of them had that perfect ass and tits. None of them were as tight as you".

You winced as the pain in your ribs intensified with every thrust, each movement sending shockwaves of agony coursing through your body. It felt like your lungs were being crushed, the pressure unbearable as you struggled to draw breath.

Your face was red and swollen from being shoved over the table, tears mingling with sweat as you fought to endure the torment.

With a cruel grip, Dean pulled you around, forcing you to sit on the edge of the table. Your body felt heavy and limp, your senses dulled by the relentless onslaught of pain. You barely registered his rough handling as he grabbed your jaw with a painful force, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Look at me", he snarled as his eyes transformed into pools of endless blackness. "I want you to see exactly who's doing this to you".

You whimpered weakly, your gaze meeting his dark, soulless eyes as he pushed himself inside you once more. The pain was blinding, a searing fire that threatened to consume you whole, but you were too far gone to fight back. Each movement leaving you teetering on the edge of consciousness.

"You're pathetic", he scoffed. "All this pain, and you still can't look away. You really are mine, aren't you?".

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to stay upright, your body wracked with pain and exhaustion.

Dean's grip tightened around your neck, nearly choking you as he held you up to keep you from falling. Your vision blurred, the edges of consciousness slipping away as the pain and lack of oxygen overwhelmed you. Yet, you remained trapped in his grasp, unable to break free from his cruel hold.

"You're still in love with me, aren't you?", Dean sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he mocked your lingering affection. " You actually think there's redemption for me. How sweet".

Your breath came in ragged gasps, each word he spoke a dagger in your heart. The weight of his words, combined with the physical agony, threatened to crush your soul entirely.

Dean chuckled darkly, his grip on your neck tightening even further. "I'm going to come inside you. Every last drop. So that even when I'm gone, you'll still have a piece of me to remember".

As Dean's lips crashed against yours with brutal force, you felt the sting of his bite on your lip, drawing blood as a surge of pain shot through you. With a loud groan, he released himself inside you, his body trembling with the force of his release.

Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, you felt another rib give way under the pressure, causing agony to lance through your already battered body. But you were trapped, unable to move or escape as Dean held you there to steady himself.

"You took me so well", Dean murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he kissed your forehead tenderly. "You always gonna be my favorite".

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he finally released his grip on you, leaving you slumped against the table, broken and defeated. "I'll come back for you", he whispered, his voice filled with a promise of further torment to come.

Before he left, Dean turned back to you, his eyes cold and devoid of any trace of humanity.

"Stop trying to heal me", he commanded, his voice laced with a chilling finality. "I'm beyond saving".

His words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing your hopes and shattering your illusions of redemption. With a heavy heart, you watched as he disappeared into the darkness, leaving you alone with your pain and despair.

As Dean's words echoed in your mind, the world around you faded into darkness. The pain, both physical and emotional, overwhelmed your senses, pulling you into unconsciousness.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 I'm thinking about turning this into a multi-part Story. You up?

Part 2

#jensen ackles #spn #smut #dean winchester #supernatural #demon dean #demon dean x Reader #hurtful #rapekink #misogny #deanwinchtser #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n

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topofmythighs · 1 year ago

Note

demon dean smut 👀👀👀

speaking in tongue

demon!dean winchester x she/her reader

rundown: it's gettin' hawt in here!!! demon!dean fucks his gf and that's basically it

word count: 3k

warnings: where do we start? corruption!kink, sub x dom themes, oral, p in v pen., master!kink, cnc???, pain!kink, breeding!kink,

navigating the depths of her relationship with dean has always been difficult; he is the definition of closed off. working through typical relationship issues is easy for the two of them, but it’s the most profound secrets that dean keeps locked away even from sam that drive them apart. still, even with the disagreements and frequent pleas for dean to let her into his mind, she stays, because she promised she would.

it’s difficult, though, to not poke and prod at the mind of her lover as he shifts from mortal to demon.

dean’s more violent — hedonistic, even — but he’s almost more open than her true lover is. as the two of them sit across from each other at the bunker’s table, drinks in hand, she can’t help but purse her lips at the thought of asking more.

“go ahead, sweetheart,” dean smirks.

she sighs as she stares into her drink, nervous to look up and see the green eyes of her lover replaced with depthless, soulless black ones. she wishes sam was here — she knows he would want to ask questions, too — but he had to flea the bunker with castiel. (he begrudgingly left her there, but with dean’s lack of plans to harm her, sam trusted that she would call him if something went wrong.)

“it’s hard to not pick your brain,” she finally says, looking up slowly at dean.

he smirks, taking a swig of his drink. “i’m an open book.”

“yeah, but, he’s not.” she sighs, also taking a drink of her whiskey. “i just - i want to know what he thinks of me. i need to know. i know he loves me — we’ve been together for what feels like forever — but he’s just so shut-out and--“

“and don’t you think it’s time you know what he thinks of you, sweetheart?” dean asks, looking at her with a quizzed look so human that she almost believes she’s talking to dean. within an instant, he’s at her side, leaning against the table. his warm, calloused hand, the same as dean's, cups her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. she swallows thickly as her blood freezes up in her body. “you know he loves you, sweetheart. i’ve always been here — watching, waiting to come out and talk to you. to tell you what he thinks of you, how he feels about you.”

“do i want to know?” she whispers, feeling the grip on her jaw tighten.

she’s scared and flustered. her mind is swirling, trying to wrap around itself that this is not dean in any other way than physically. he lets her jaw go with a quick jerk, crouching down in front of her.

“he thinks about you all the time. touching you, fucking you,” he purrs. he watches the blush rise on her face, and just to be an asshole, he tacks on, “it’s gross, to be honest.”

“keep it in your pants,” she mutters, glaring at him and drinking down her whiskey.

he spins her chair to face him. sitting down on his knees, he places his hands on hers, gripping hard.

“ow,” she winces. “please,” she says, “please take your hands off of me.”

“ah, ah, ah. what you aren’t getting, sweetheart,” he says coldly, “is that even if you hate me, you love him.” he pushes himself up off of the ground and leans in close to her. “and right now, we are one.”

she stares into his eyes and shakily puts her hands on his cheeks as his hands grip tight on the arms of the chair. “baby,” she whispers, pleading. “if you can hear me, please know i’m here.”

“he knows, sweetheart,” dean whispers. “he can hear you. we can hear you.” dean looks into her eyes, smiling pridefully at her.

she takes a deep breath in, looking one last time into his green eyes, before guiding his lips to hers. she kisses him deeply, trying to feel dean amidst the demon.

“not so fast,” dean says. his ultimate speed has their positions flipped within seconds. she sits on his lap, hands still on his cheeks. “if we’re doing this, and trust me, we want this,” he purrs, “you need to understand that you don’t control me.” she nods quickly, frightened to do anything he doesn’t want her to. “but just because i’m some cold-blooded killer that has it out for every mortal around him,” he chuckles, “doesn’t mean i’m gonna hurt you, sweetheart. i don't want no angels or hunters after me. i don’t have a death wish.”

“they couldn’t stop you anyway,” she whispers, feeling herself relax into his hands that are tight on her hips.

he smiles at her. “that’s my girl.”

his hands find her hair quickly, pulling her down into a deep kiss. her arms wrap around his neck as her body slowly sinks down onto his. she’s still unsure if her heart has stopped beating, but she feels his hand find her lower back and gently press her body down more.

“you’re okay, sweetheart,” dean murmers, and she swears that was really him. her legs finally relax and settle themselves on either side of his thigh, feeling the denim-to-denim contact. her arms tighten around him, and her lips find his neck where she places small kisses up and down it.

testing the waters, she grabs a fistful of dean’s hair at the back of his neck as she kisses it, and she feels his hips buck up to hers.

“god,” dean whispers. “don’t make me feel like some desperate teenager here, baby girl.”

she smiles as she continues to kiss. she gently grinds her hips down against his thigh, staying very close to his body and keeping her movements slow. “don’t mean to,” she whispers back. “just trying to enjoy all of you.”

"we've got time, baby," he purrs, his hands roaming her thighs. he tilts his head back, savouring the wet, open-mouthed kisses that she continues to leave all over his throat.

the grip his hands have on her thighs leaves a searing pain behind, so she pushes herself away from his delicious skin to peek and see if the denim of her jeans has been burned away. she grabs his shoulders to steady herself, wincing as he squeezes harder.

she stares at her thighs, expecting burning flesh to be escaping the denim, but there's nothing there.

"ow," she whines, eyes meeting the demon's soulless black ones.

he smirks at her, peeling his hands off her thighs. "feel that?"

"yeah, it hurts like hell," she mumbles.

her jaw is grabbed once again by the familiar calloused hand, and her mouth hangs open slightly.

"i didn't ask for the attitude, sweetheart," dean snarls. "all that pain? means your little boyfriend is here, feeling all of this and watching us like a pervert in a movie theatre."

his eyes melt green again, and the combination of a mention of a mortal dean mixed with his luscious green eyes allows her body to fall slack. she drops back down onto dean's thighs and drools, coating his hand in spit. he smiles slyly at her, pulling his hand off her face before leaving a hard, aggressive slap to her cheek. he places his thumb in her still-open mouth and forces her face back to his. her mouth instinctively closes around his thumb.

"my good girl," he says, a hand finding her waist.

she smiles around his thumb, her cheek wet from her own spit being slapped onto it. she very slowly leans forward until her head rests on dean's shoulder and gently grabs hold of dean's wrist. she rests against him for a moment, feeling the pulse of his cock against her core every time she sucks on his thumb (she swears her heartbeat matches the rhythm of his dick.). her body goes slack, recovering from the pain in her thighs and on her face.

if she was in any other state of mind, she would be the utmost apprehensive woman in the world. if dean truly is watching, she has no doubt in her mind that he will condemn her for feeling safe in the arms of a demon. but as she lays here with her head on his shoulder and his protective arm around her, she wonders if there's some form of loneliness that drives a demon's anarchy.

she sits up, tired of thinking. she gently pulls his thumb out of her mouth, then presses a kiss to his lips. her shakey fingers unbutton his red shirt, and she feels a surge of wetness overtake her when she feels how incredibly hot dean's skin is.

dean can't help but admire her. he watches her as she licks her lips, and he feels his shirt coming undone. her eyes are huge and innocent, glistening like she's experiencing this for the first time. he knows she's focusing too much on the heat of his skin, overthinking about how close dean of the subconscious is watching, so he guides her hands to the tent in his jeans.

"we want you, sweetheart," he purrs, his hand looming over hers.

"take me," she whispers, so quiet that even with exaggerated senses, dean can barely hear her.

his inhumane speed brings her up onto the table with her jeans pulled off her legs. he smirks at her soaked thong - once a baby pink turned a deep rose from the amount of wetness her body has made. he pulls her to the edge of the table, kneeling down on the floor to press kisses to her thighs.

her hands try to push his head away. "no, please! he hasn't - it's been too long! i don't want you there, i want him."

dean smiles up at her from in between her thighs. "he's always here, babygirl."

he pulls her underwear to the side, immediately licking up all of the slick that her warm pussy made. she releases a loud, pornstar moan, her hands finding dean's hair quickly. he kisses her pussy, and she swears she can hear him growling from in between her thighs. she moans louder, hoping his dick throbs harder.

it must have, because his mouth finds her clit and sucks hard, eliciting a long, loud whine from her spit-covered lips. her hands are tight in his hair, the tension in her body having nowhere to escape but her hands. dean continues to lick and suck at her clit, making her whine and moan like she's never been touched before.

"need, need you," she groans, feeling dean's fingers dig deep into her thighs.

he comes up for air, pressing kisses anywhere he can. she swears she feels her dean here with her.

"need me?" dean whispers, his eyes staring into hers. she moans at his deep voice, swearing it rumbles through her. her head tilts back, and, within mere seconds, her body bounces off of dean's soft, memory foam mattress. she hears her breath catch in her throat, to which he smirks. "too fast for you, sweetheart?"

she shakes her head quickly as her hands find his belt and button. "like it," she mutters, her thoughts flowing too quickly to focus on anything but touching dean's cock.

when it sits in the palm of her hand, hard and hot, she whines and feels a gush of wetness fall over the tops of her thighs. she immediately tries to position his cock against her entrance, but he grabs her wrist.

"one thing about us, sweetheart," dean says, "is nothing turns us on more than watching those angel eyes suck cock." he smirks at her as she nods feverishly.

he flips their positions, allowing himself to sit against the headboard while she lays in between his thighs. her ass is high in the air as she wraps her hand around his cock again, licking up his long, veiny cock. he grabs her hair immediately, allowing her brain to turn off and her mouth to be used.

"pretty girl," dean mumbles, moaning as he face fucks her. her eyes are glazed over when she looks up at him, and she moans around his cock as those beautiful, green eyes watch her suck his cock. he holds her head down, her nose just an inch away from his pelvis. she gags, and usually dean would let up, but this time, he holds her head still.

she moves her hands up his thighs, digging her nails into them, letting him know it's too much. he doesn't let up until she draws blood just one gag later.

"bitch," he mutters, as he pulls her up by her hair. he watches his doll catch her breath, a long line of spit keeping her mouth connected to his cock. her eyes are watery, and a few tears have slipped down her face. small traces of makeup are smeared over her face.

their eyes meet, and his black, soulless ones switch back to his crystal clear, serpentine green eyes. he immediately pulls her onto him, his large protective hands rubbing her back. "i'm sorry, angel," he mutters.

she pulls herself up, and her legs straddle his hips. she keeps herself close to him as he kisses her head. his kisses lead onto her face, eliciting a small, fucked-out smile from her.

"it's okay, master," she whispers, peeling his hands from her face and pressing kisses onto his wrists, desperate to feel the human in him. as she does, he rubs his cock over her wet pussy, making her whine and hide her face in his hand.

she grabs his hand and tangles their fingers together, pushing herself up onto her knees to sink down onto his cock. she watches her boyfriend's face fall into the expression it always does when she takes it all; his mouth open, eyes closed, and his chest tight with air.

"i'll always let you do whatever you want to me, sir," she says, rocking her hips back and forth on his dick.

he smacks her ass, and a deep burning sensation flows through her veins. she knows her dean is gone again, taken over by the demon yet again.

"good girl," he says, watching her intently. he watches exactly where their bodies connect.

whether it's the demon's energy coursing through her boyfriend's body or the fact that she hasn't been fucked this hard in a few months, she finds it hard to take all of dean's cock. still, she does her best, feeling electricity course through her pussy whenever she sinks down all the way. she knows from the burning that dean is there. trapped in his mind, but he's there.

knowing he's there brings her an odd source of comfort. she wants to put on a show for him, and she wants to stay on this demon's good side. she hopes that he can feel everything the way she is. she rocks her hips again, feeling dean's fat cock hit her g-spot. she lets out a very loud moan, squeezing dean's hand harder as she rides.

dean groans, too. "fuck, babygirl," he mutters. "so fucking wet."

she caresses his face with her free hand, stilling her hips. "sir?" she asks quietly.

he smirks at her shyness, bucking his hips up into her. "yes, sweetheart?"

she squeezes his hand again, and to her surprise, he squeezes back. her hands feel like she's touching a hot stove. she blushes, knowing dean's right there. "make me squirt?"

his eyes roll back as he groans, and his lightning speed flips them into doggy quickly. he places her head into the pillows and grabs her hips, fucking her soaking wet pussy hard and fast.

"sir, sir, fuck!" she screams, feeling her hips burn where his fingertips squeeze. "i need," she moans. "need your cum."

"fuck, sweetheart," dean says, slowing down his speed a bit. he chuckles. "your boyfriend in here does not want me to do that."

her laboured breathing makes her choke out, "since when did you care?"

he laughs again. "you're a dirty whore. i like it."

she smiles into the pillows and wiggles her ass, begging for him to fuck her harder. he finds his rhythm again, and within a moment, she's finding his wrist and squeezing hard as she cums around his cock.

"don't stop, sir, please, don't stop!" she can feel the tension in her tummy build up again, and she's excited to see how worked up her mortal body can make a demon.

he keeps his pace, slapping her ass and fucking her pussy deep.

"fuck, your pussy is so good, doll," he mutters. "you want a demon to cum in you?"

she nods her head yes. "want your babies," she whispers, instantly regretting her dirty words.

dean haults, flipping her onto her back. "gonna watch that pretty face."

she smiles, grabbing his face for a kiss. his hands fist the pillow around her head, and he fucks her wet, warm pussy until his cum spills into her. the feeling of his thick load inside her makes that rope in her tummy snap, and she's begging him to fuck her hard again. he does, and she squirts as he fucks his cum deeper into her.

she cries out loudly as her body winds down from its high. dean switches them so she can lay on his chest. he rubs her body all over, and if her mind wasn't gone, she would easily overthink why he's showing her any sort of care.

her leg loosely wraps around his hips, and her arms wrap around his chest. he presses kisses to her head, petting her hair.

"y'know," he starts. "takes a real strong man to fight off total possession." she nods dumbly against his chest, just happy to feel the vibrations of his voice from his chest in her ear. "your man's got a lot of willpower to get back to you, sweetheart."

she nods again, pulling herself onto him more. "thank you for not hurting me, dean."

he smiles at her, and his hands continue to rub all over her body. "i still don't have a death wish, babygirl."

#dean winchester #deanmon #demon dean smut #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural smut #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #dean winchester fanfiction

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impala-dreamer · 1 month ago

Text

When The Rivers Rise

A Supernatural Story

~Alone and unprepared, Y/N goes to collect Dean from the bar and convince him to come home. Sam says he has a cure, and she'll be damned if she doesn't at least try to get Dean on board...~

Demon!Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel

6,331 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Angst, Smut, Demonic Charm, Fingering and Fucking, Mild Violence, Canon Everything, Choking During Sex, Choking not during sex, Lose of consciousness, Yada Yada

A/N: So basically, I took S10 E2 & 3 and smushed this in there. Please enjoy. I did. Published to Patron June 5, 2023

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

The Flamingo Lounge was filthy. The parking lot was fenced in, littered with trash; its brick walls covered in graffiti as if the city’s youth used it as a canvas. Luckily, though, it seemed empty.

Y/N parked her car in the lot, not caring to lock the doors behind her. She double checked the syringes stashed in her jacket, made sure her gun clip was full. Really, there was no way to know what she was walking into, but she had to try, had to do something.

And she had to do it quick. If she knew where he was, so did Sam, and God only knew what Sam would be planning.

She walked in through the side door, letting her heavy boots thud and announce her presence. There was no reason to hide, anyway. Sneak attacks were never her speciality.

Soft piano notes filled the air, a half plucked melody that never quite turned into a song.

The room smelled of lingering cigarette smoke and stale beer, whiskey and maraschino cherries. The bar stools were vacant, the room empty save for the bartender and her target. She stopped by the counter; blue neon light shining down on her face. She grit her teeth and cleared her throat.

The music stopped and he looked up with a smile.

“Hey, Y/N.”

Dean. Her pulse quickened.

“Didn’t expect to see you.” His jaw twitched as he looked her over. “Thought it’d be Sammy who came callin’.” He cocked his head to the side, cracking his neck unnaturally.

Not Dean.

“Yeah, well, I thought I’d come see you first. Save him a trip.” Her voice felt so small. It crackled in her ears as fear welled up inside. She’d been tracking Dean for months and now, standing half a room away, she felt unprepared and severely out matched.

Dean chuckled under his breath and spun on the piano bench. His legs spread as he straddled the cushioned wood and he rubbed a hand down his thigh. Green eyes were piercing through her and Y/N shivered. She hadn’t felt his stare in forever, hadn’t known she’d feel it ever again.

He stood and she instinctively reached for her pistol.

“You know you can’t just shoot me, Y/N.”

He blinked. Blackness overtook the green and her heart sank. He could see it in her face, smell it pulsing off of her like thick perfume. She was terrified, disappointed, intrigued.

He laughed and made his way to the bar. “Oh. You weren’t sure, were you?”

She swallowed hard. “Sure about what?”

“About me.” He nodded at the bartender and Harv took a walk, dropping his drying rag on the bartop. “You knew what happened, that I’m… different now. Better. But you didn’t really believe it, did you?”

Shit.

Y/N dropped her hand to her side, dug her nails into her palm to steady herself. “Not really, no.”

Another little laugh left his lips as he leaned over the bar and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. He cast a glance back at her, his eyes green again, his gaze hungry.

“Well, believe it. I’m new and improved, babydoll.”

His tone washed over her. There was a new grit in his voice, a different confidence that was so unlike him but so very much Dean that it made her head hurt.

“You’re a demon.”

He shrugged and plucked two glasses from the drying rack, turning them over. “Yeah. Cool, ain’t it?”

Y/N bit her tongue hard, hoping the quick flash of pain would clear her head a bit. “Not cool, Dean,” she spat. “Evil.”

One elbow on the bar, he turned to face her and grinned. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t know evil if you were stuck in Hell with it. Which…” He looked around at the empty room and laughed. “I guess you kinda are.”

The emptiness of the room suddenly weighed down on her and Y/N took in a deep breath to steady her shaking hands.

Dean filled both glasses and then slid one across the bar for her. “Drink up. You’ll need it.”

Nervously, she stepped up to the bar and took the glass between her fingers. “Why? You gonna kill me?”

He sucked his teeth and let his gaze fall down her body, remembering, enjoying. “Maybe.”

Her heart thudded in her ears. “You haven’t decided yet?”

Dean knocked back his drink. “Nope.”

“That’s bullshit.” She took a sip and it burned down her throat.

“What?”

“You decided the second I walked in here.”

Dean refilled his glass while keeping one eye on her. “Actually, I didn’t. I was too curious to worry about what I’m gonna do to you.”

Y/N held the tumbler to her lips, breathed in the oaky fumes. “Curious?”

“Well, you walked in here, alone…” He licked his lips. “Lookin’- mighty tasty if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

Fuck.

Her blood sizzled. “I do mind. Asshole.”

Dean smirked and took a long drink. “And I thought to myself, Y/N’s a smart girl. She’s gotta have some kinda plan. Wouldn’t just walk in here by herself with no backup, no weapons, no nothing. She’s not an idiot.”

He paused to watch her reaction and found her stronger than he thought. She held his gaze without faltering and he moved closer.

“So, tell me, Y/N, was I right? Are you smarter than you look?” He licked a drop of whiskey from the corner of his mouth. “What’s the big plan?”

She refused to look at him lest she lose her nerve. She finished the last sip of whiskey and then pulled her weapons from her jacket. On the bar, she laid down her gun and three syringes filled with a harsh sedative. The smooth, eternally cool handle of the angel blade pressed into her side, but she kept it hidden beneath her shirt.

“There. There’s my plan.” She turned to face him and swept her hand over the weapons.

“You were gonna- what? Force me to OD?” He grinned, flashing perfectly white teeth and the pink tip of his tongue.

Y/N shook her head. “It wouldn’t kill you. Just knock you out.”

“And then?”

Her shoulders rose and fell in a confessional shrug. “Honestly, Dean, I didn’t think I’d even get this far, so… there’s no and then. Bring you home, I guess.”

“What if I don’t wanna go home?” he asked, taking a step closer. “What if I don’t have a home anymore?”

She held her breath. “You do. You’ll always have a home, Dean. Whether you want it or not.”

He laughed. “Lemme guess. Home is wherever you and Sam are. Where we chose to hang our hats.” He shook his head and sighed. “Home is dead, Y/N.”

Her heart ached. “It doesn’t have to be. If you come back with me, maybe we can-”

“What?” He cut her off. “Maybe we can pretend everything’s good? Play house? Oh, you wanna try being boyfriend and girlfriend again, act like we have a future?”

His words were a knife, but she bit her tongue again, refusing to give him a reaction. “Don’t be cruel, Dean. I’m trying to help you.”

He sucked in a breath and turned away. “See, I don’t really care about being helped. I’m fine. You’re the one who’s gonna need help in a minute.”

She pressed her arm down against the blade, reassuring herself that it was there and ready.

“You’re not gonna kill me, Dean.”

He looked back over his shoulder. “We’ll see.”

“Whatever happened to you,” she said, hope burning on her lips. “Whatever this is… It can be undone. You’re still you. You’re still Dean Winchester. You’re still-”

“Still what?” He spun on his heel and towered over her. “The man you love?”

Pain twitched around her eyes. “Yes.”

“You know what you are? You’re a sad little girl playing with shit she don’t understand.”

She stood up tall, finding strength in the marrow of her bones. “Sam has the cure. He can-”

Dean laughed and backed up, cocky and amused. “Sam’s probably dead right about now. I don’t know how much good his cure will do.”

Y/N froze. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Dean clicked his tongue and smiled. “Some assclown called me from his phone. Got baby Sammy all tied up in a shed somewhere doing… something. I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening. But, that was a while ago. I assume he’s…” He slit his throat with a single finger and stuck his tongue out, mocking Sam’s apparent death.

Y/N shuddered, unable to hide the truth from him.

“So you didn’t know.” He spun back to the bad. “Sorry. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

She cleared her throat, pushed the worry aside. “That’s exactly what I came to do.”

She took a chance, lunging for the gun on the bar, but Dean got to it first, expertly disarming it and tossing it aside.

“You’re too slow, Y/N. Always have been.”

He poured them another drink while she regrouped.

“Tell me, how is it you don’t know where Sam is? You two’ve been attached at the hip forever.”

A bit of whiskey sloshed out of her glass and flooded the bar. She went to it, lifting her cup from the mess. “Yeah, not so much anymore.”

Dean leaned in, condescendingly. “Wanna talk about it?”

Y/N took a drink. “No.”

A month ago, Sam was losing his mind to grief and obsession, pushing Y/N aside at every turn as he tried to find his brother. The last straw was a torture session in a barn in Kentucky. Sam was slicing up a demon, carving into its stolen flesh, and when Y/N protested, he hit her, knocking her back against the rotting walls. They tumbled, fighting, screaming at each other while the demon watched, cackling from the center of the Devil’s Trap. When the dust cleared and Y/N came up bloody and bruised, she spat in Sam’s direction and told him to go to Hell. That was the last she’d seen or heard from him. He was on the same mission, but going about it in all the wrong ways.

She stared at the neon sign behind the bar. “We’re not exactly speaking anymore.”

Dean hummed and refilled his glass. “Funny. You and me in the same boat.”

Y/N huffed. “I chose this boat, Dean. You didn’t.”

He grinned. “You don’t think so? You don’t know all the fun I’ve had this summer, all the trouble I’ve gotten into. All the tail I’ve chased… and gotten.” She flinched, but he kept going. “All the drugs, the fights, the booze. It’s been a great time. You should join me.”

She laughed bitterly and downed her drink. “Pass.”

He frowned, mockingly. “I’m sorry. Does hearing all that hurt your feelings? All those chicks I’ve banged, dudes I’ve nailed… makes ya jealous don’t it?”

Y/N sighed and turned to look at him. “No. Just sad for you. And them.”

He took a step and she balked, moving away from the bar, her defenses on edge.

“Come on, now. I’m the best you’ve ever had. And I’ve only gotten better.”

“You’re an asshole.”

Dean grinned. “Baby, you have no idea.”

He moved closer, stalking towards her, forcing her to back up. His eyes were fixed on her face, intent obvious. His mouth parted gently as his tongue came forth to tease her, wet his plump lips. A strange mix of panic and arousal swelled in her gut and she reached into her jacket, pulling the angel blade free.

“Stop!” She twirled the blade in her hand and held it out in warning.

Dean laughed. “Really?”

“This kills anything, right? Human, angel… demon. If you’re two outta three, I got a fighting chance.”

Her voice was shaking as hard as her hand and Dean kept coming, boots thumping the stained carpet.

“Stay back!” she yelled, spreading her feet and bending her knees, taking a fighting stance.

Dean swept forward in a flash and grabbed her wrist. He twisted hard and she held back a scream as the bones threatened to snap.

The blade fell to the floor.

“Get off me,” she snarled.

Dean’s right hand curled against her lower back and he leaned in close, breathing in her scent. “You don’t mean that.”

Frozen, caught and confused, she gasped as he bent to kiss her. Squirmed as his tongue poked between her lips, thrashed as his fingers tensed on her ass. Swooned as the kiss lingered.

Fuck.

It was warm and wet and so Dean. She hummed despite herself and freaked out when he pulled away. She slapped his chest, shoved him hard.

Again, he pulled her close and his lips found hers. He licked at her mouth and exhaled into her, flooding her brain with desire, washing her body in lust filled memory.

“Stop it!”

Once more, she shoved him back with all her might, but it only made him angry. He stumbled back a pace and dipped his chin, daring her, enticing her, tugging on every string.

Oh god…

“Just- stay back!”

Dean’s upper lip twitched and he bared his teeth, advancing on her like a wolf in the wilderness. He wrapped himself around her, pushing her back until she hit the piano. Nowhere to go, she melted in his arms, let him probe her hot mouth, let him slip his knee hard between her thighs.

She gasped, hating herself for loving him. Hating her love for getting in the way.

“Stop.”

He pulled back an inch, burning into her with familiar green eyes. “If you really want me to stop, I will. Just say it.”

His breath struck her face, that dreamlike mix of whiskey and smoke and long faded mint. Her eyes fluttered and her pussy clenched. “No.”

He grinned, let his fingers trail down her cheek to wrap loosely around her throat. “No you want me to stop or no, you don’t won’t say it?”

Unable to think, to speak, to reason herself out of the moment, Y/N grabbed at his flannel with both hands and tugged him down. She licked at his lips, sucked on his tongue until he growled against her, thrust his hips into her.

“Knew you were good to go,” he moaned, fumbling with the zipper of her jeans.

Y/N clawed a hand through his hair and tugged, yanking his head to the side and licking at the sacred vein. She pressed her lips there and felt his heart beating steady. He still had a heart.

“Miss you so much,” she whispered, half gasping as he tore at her bottoms, tearing the denim from her hips.

“Oh, I know you did.”

He grabbed at her sides, slid his hands up beneath her arms and lifted. Her bare ass squeaked on the piano lid and Dean closed in on her, pushing her onto her back with a heavy kiss. She spread her knees around him, tugged him closed with her heels on his ass. He snuck a hand between them and grinned against her lips.

“You did miss me, huh?”

She nodded, breathless as he shoved a finger into her.

“So tight.” He added another and she gasped. “Thought you’d be runnin’ around like a cat in heat without me, but looks like you’ve been a good girl. Kept yourself all tight and virginal for me.”

Her nails scraped at his scalp. “I don’t know about virginal…”

A third finger jammed into her and Y/N bit her lip as the stretch burned.

“You been fucking other guys behind my back?”

His ring finger barely made it inside and her pussy clenched down hard on him.

“Nah.” He grinned and nipped at her lips. “You ain’t been doing nothing but dreaming about me, have you?”

She wanted to scream, to push him off, to run, but there was no escape. Not when he had his lips on her throat and his body pressed so hard against her.

“Yes…”

He pulled his hand away and pressed two fingers to her clit, watching in delight as he eyes lit up and a silent scream filled her mouth.

“You could come with me, you know.”

She snapped her jaw shut tight. “No.”

Drawing his left hand firmly down her body, he stopped at her hip and tugged her shirt up, exposing the blank protective ink over the bone. His thumb ran over the tattoo. “Sure you could,” he explained. “I’ll just cut this off… drag some bitch outta Hell… stuff her into you.”

Her body jerked as he forced his hand back into her cunt and Y/N grit her teeth. “Wouldn’t be me then, would it?”

He paused and shrugged. “Yeah, I guess not.” He tugged the shirt up higher and smiled as the thin cotton of her bra did little to hide her pert nipple. “I like you like this anyway. All scared and confused.” He dropped down and sealed his lips around the bud, tugging hard.

Y/N squirmed and let out a cry that rang like music in his ears.

“Fuck, I missed that sound.” He sucked again and bit down. “The whores I’ve been picking up lately, they just- it ain’t the same.” He straightened up and looked down at her. “Sex is just sex until you learn someone’s body. You can’t really fuck someone the right way until you learn how. You gotta pay attention… learn what makes them… squirm. What makes them scream...” He crooked his fingers and Y/N squealed, her thighs slamming shut around his arm. “See? Just like that.”

“Fuck, please!”

Her lips were burning from his kisses, stubbled lips leaving the ghost of his touch behind. Her body was aching, throbbing from his fingers, dripping down onto the piano.

“Dean-”

He bit his bottom lip and let it fall slowly away. “Love hearing my name like that. Never gets old.”

He pulled away before she could cum, leaving her struggling and needy. She reached for him, but he slapped her hands away and unbuckled his jeans.

“Lay still,” he grit.

Y/N sealed her lips shut and clutched the hem of her shirt. She eyed the exit, thought about jumping down and taking her chances outrunning him, but before she could take a deep enough breath, Dean jutted his hips against her and his cock slipped between her swollen lips.

Her shoulders jolted upright and Dean grabbed the back of her neck, tugging her down toward the edge of the piano. Her ass was hanging, teetering off the side, and she grabbed at his shirt, holding on as he fucked deep into her.

“That’s it,” he grunted, one hand on her hip, the other on her throat. “Fuck, I remember this cunt. So fucking wet for me. So tight.”

She gasped, eyes wide, heart racing. His thumb covered her pulse and he pushed down just enough to blur the edges of her vision.

“D-Dean!”

His hips snapped upwards, his breath quickened. He squeezed her throat tighter and watched as the color drained from her lips.

“That’s it, babydoll,” he urged. “Gonna get you nice and dizzy so you cum hard. I know you like that…”

She could feel it building, that tightness inside as he hit every spot she’d been unable to reach herself.

Green eyes blurred in her vision and then with a grin, he snapped them to black.

Y/N came instantly, her cunt pushing and pulling on his thick cock; a flood of warmth slicking down his thighs.

“Yes…” He thrust harder. “Yes… Just like that!” His roar was intense and Y/N’s eyes began to roll, her heart struggling to beat. “Yes!”

The room was fading to white; her head was spinning. Still throbbing, her cunt was the only thing responding as Dean finished with a grunting cry. Just before her eyes rolled back, he released his grip and oxygen flooded her brain.

Y/N gasped and caught herself, falling back onto her elbows on the polished wood. “Fuck!”

Dean flashed a cocky grin and tucked himself away, uncaring of the mess. “You still got it, Y/N/N.”

His wink was uncalled for and aggravating, but Y/N had no energy to clap back at him. Carefully, she rolled onto her belly and slid off the piano. Her muscles were aching, her flesh on fire.

Dean headed back to the bar and poured another round. He walked a little slower, his voice rolled a little smoother off his devilish tongue.

“Can’t say I’m mad you stopped by,” he joked, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Turned out pretty good after all.”

Y/N yanked her jeans up and grimaced as the seam scraped at her raw pussy. “Just think how much better it would be at home, in the Bunker, where you belong.”

He laughed. “Really? After all that, you’re gonna try again?”

She stumbled forward, grabbing the bar for support. “I gotta keep trying, Dean. You need help.”

Sighing, he knocked back his glass. “See, that’s where you’re still wrong.”

Behind him, the door creaked open and Y/N’s eyes went towards the light.

Dean didn’t have to turn around, he knew.

“Hiya, Sam.”

Shit.

Sam let the door shut behind him and he walked in, arm held in a sling, face cut up and bruised.

He locked eyes with Y/N and her stomach tensed. They hadn’t spoken in weeks, and seeing him now, it all rushed back to her.

“Sam.”

He nodded at her and moved to stand equidistant from her and Dean. The triangle was a familiar one, but strange altogether.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyes flickering between them.

Y/N swallowed down her anger and swept the sweaty hair from her eyes. “Same as you, I guess.”

Dean laughed. “I highly doubt he’s here for that, Sweetheart.” He brought his right hand to his lips and licked her taste from his fingers. “Unless…”

She shuddered and Sam’s brow creased.

“We’re gonna take you home, Dean,” Sam said, ignoring the obvious sexual confession. He turned his back on Y/N and focused on his brother.

Dean rolled his eyes. ”Yeah, I don’t think so. I told you to let me go.”

Sam’s shoulders tensed. “You know I can’t do that.”

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah. Well…” Reaching behind him, he pulled the First Blade from his belt and showed it to them both. “Sucks to be you, don’t it?”

For a moment, Y/N felt calm. Almost as if her soul had decided to give up all hope and accept the fact that Death was on His way. She exhaled slowly and imagined what it would feel like, that sharp jaw bone splitting her in half, gouging through her chest with one quick sweep of Dean’s hand. Would he be quick or let her linger? Would he weep for her in the end? Would he care?

Sam held up a hand, begging for patience. “Dean, you don’t have to do this. We can cure demons-”

Glass shattered behind Y/N and she turned to see the window break. A smoking canister landed by her feet and she looked at Dean, confused and flooded with panic. As her brain and feet got themselves together, the smoke rose around her and she covered her mouth and nose, too late. She started to choke her and beside her, Sam coughed loudly, waving at the smoke to push it away. He inhaled too deeply and stumbled forward, grabbing her shoulder for support. She buckled under his weight and fell to her knees in the cloud. It strangled her from every side, burning her lungs, stinging her eyes. She crawled towards the door and felt Sam’s big hand on her back, pulling her to her feet.

“Come on!”

He hit the door, pushing it open and knocking fresh air into the room, but it was already inside of them.

Y/N staggered out behind him, barely able to stay on her feet.

Confused and bleary-eyed she saw Sam fall, knocked out by a stranger’s fist.

She rushed out of the bar, leaving the smoke behind and slamming into the arms of Sam’s kidnapper.

“Who the hell are you?”

Blue eyes and a crew cut stared back at her and Y/N coughed, expelling poison from her lungs.

“Me?” she swayed on her feet and swatted at him. “Who the fuck are you!”

Cole grit his teeth and pulled a gun from his thigh holster, easily spinning to take Y/N in his arms and aim the muzzle at her temple.

From the back of the parking lot, Dean appeared, cool and seemingly unaffected by the attack. He held out his arms, cocked a brow as he looked at Cole, wondering who the fuck was bothering him now.

Y/N held still but seethed, nostrils flaring, anger sloshing about in her dizzy head.

Cole’s forearm pressed hard against her throat and he pointed the gun at Dean.

“Wow. It’s really you.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “We met?”

“Talked on the phone.”

“Right.” Dean laughed under his breath. “You’re the guy who’s supposed to put a bullet in Sammy’s brain.” He dipped his chin and smirked, cocky and unimpressed. “Did you miss?”

Dean took a step and Cole tightened up. Y/N clawed at his arm but didn’t have the strength to fight him off.

“Dean-” Her voice was shattered and weak.

Cole pressed the gun against her head again. “You stay there or I’ll-”

“What?” Dean leaned in casually. “You’ll put a bullet in her too? You don’t exactly have a great track record for that.”

Cole growled. She could feel it rumble through his chest and into her. “I’ll do it.”

Y/N blinked up at Dean, begging, but for what, she wasn’t sure. The calm of Death approaching had settled over her once more.

Dean shrugged, his eyes locked on Y/N’s. “Do it,” he said. “I don’t care.”

She drew in a breath and everything changed. Cole’s grip on her loosened and she ducked from his arm, ready to rush forward and out of the line of fire. He grabbed her arm and brought the butt of the gun down hard on the back of her head. She saw sparks, heard a yell, felt the rough gravel of pavement scrape her face.

When she woke, she was back in her bed in the Bunker, blanket smooth beneath her, boots still on. She’d been carried inside but not tucked in.

Sam.

Her head was pounding, mouth somehow dry and wet at the same time. She swallowed down the guck and rubbed her eyes as she climbed out of bed.

The halls were quiet, the lights bright as always. She peeked into Sam’s room, but it was empty, dared a chance at Dean’s, but he was nowhere to be found either.

What the hell?

A pained, demonic roar echoed down the hallway and Y/N pushed off of her backfoot, breaking into a run.

The dungeon door was open, the decoy shelving pushed aside.

She looked in to see Dean tied to a chair, his face covered in thick sweat, right arm bloody from needle punctures. Sam stood to the side, watching his brother writhe in pain.

“Sam?”

She stepped into the room and both men looked up.

Dean grinned through his strangled panting. “Heya, Sweetheart.”

She rushed forward and Sam stopped her, stepping in her way. He towered over her and looked down, hazel eyes filled with hurt and purpose. “Don’t.”

Dean sucked in a hard breath, lungs burning, blood boiling.

Y/N tried to circle Sam, but he barred her with his good arm.

“What are you doing to him? You’re killing him- look!”

Sam shook his head and gave her shoulder a shove. “Out. Now.” He grabbed her arm and dragged her to the door.

Dean watched her leave, struggling with consciousness. “Good to see ya, Y/N/N!”

Outside, she ripped her arm from Sam’s giant paw and growled up at him. “What are you doing in there?”

He sucked a breath through his teeth. “Curing my brother.”

“Looks more like you’re killing him! Can’t you hear him screaming? That can’t be good.” She turned to the door and again, Sam blocked her.

He softened, lowering his voice and easing his stance. “Look, I know you’re worried but-”

“But what? You’ve got it all under control as usual?”

He dropped his head. “He has to go through this. He’ll survive.”

She looked up, tears wetting the corners of her eyes. “How do you know? How do you know this won’t actually rip his soul apart and kill him?”

He let his head fall back against the door, resting for a split second. “I don’t.”

Hours ticked by with Y/N pacing the halls, listening as Dean’s wretched voice echoed through her, tearing at her heart.

Sam wouldn’t let her inside, but she caught glimpses of Dean when Sam came out for air. He was dripping in sweat, slumped down in the chair.

“Are you sure about this?”

He brushed past, barely holding on himself. “Honestly, Y/N… I don’t know anymore. But we’re almost done. He’ll either come out of this cured or-”

She held her tongue. “Yeah.”

Sam turned left and headed towards his room.

“Sam?”

He paused before rounding the corner.

“Should you and I- I mean, we should probably-”

He held up his hand, but was kind when he turned. “I know. We need to talk. I need to apologize. I just need- I gotta finish this first. I need to save him.”

Y/N nodded. “I know, Sam. I know.”

Sam had been gone for a while, so she took a chance.

Y/N slipped into the dungeon with a bottle of water and a damp cloth, her heart in her throat, her head in a vice.

Dean was limp in the chair, his chin tucked to his chest, eyes gently closed. She toed the Devil’s Trap, watching, praying to see a breath.

“Dean?”

He stirred and she sighed. “Thank God.”

A chuckle lifted his face to hers. “God ain’t got shit to do with this, babydoll.” He smiled and then coughed, heavy, painfully. His chest heaved, his mouth fell open as he strained for air.

“Dean… fuck.”

Before she knew it, she was inside the sigil and kneeling at his feet. She pressed the cool washcloth to his forehead and he sighed gratefully as she wiped the sweat from his brow.

“That’s… that’s nice.” His voice was cracked, throat raw from screaming.

She patted his cheeks, his throat, lay the cloth across the back of his neck.

“Are you OK?”

She looked him over, certain he was near to fading. His arm was torn from the needles and she could swear The Mark looked paler, as if Sam’s cure was pulling the evil from it. Maybe it was working…

Dean smiled. “Oh, sure. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” A cough shook him badly and Y/N held his cheek, unable to help.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. It’ll be over soon. I promise.”

She cracked open the bottle of water and held it to his lips, urging him to drink.

He managed a tiny sip and then pulled back.

“I’m dying, Y/N/N.” His head lolled to the side and her heart ached.

“No.” She grabbed at his flannel and shook him gently. “You’re gonna be fine. You’re Dean Fucking Winchester. You are going to be fine. You hear me?”

Green eyes rolled back to white and Y/N set her hand on his chest, rubbing hard.

“Hey! Hey! Dean! No. Wake up!”

She slapped his cheek and he sucked in a heavy breath, gasping loudly as his eyes snapped open.

“Oh, Jesus, Dean!”

Before relief could set in, Dean’s fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist and his pained smile turned into a devilish grin. He squeezed and her pulse quickened.

“What’re you doing? How?”

She looked down to see the ropes that had held his arms frayed and broken. “Dean?”

A blink shattered his beautiful green eyes and only black remained. He laughed. “You showed up just in time…”

It was like a rush of wind inside her head and all around.

In a flash, Dean had her up off the floor, her feet dangling, throat clutched in his big hand. He slammed her against the wall and held her there, lungs screaming, eyes bulging. He traced a hand down her body and tilted his head to the side, watching the blood rise to the surface of her skin. Aroused even as her breath died away.

“See, I don’t get you.” He let her slide down the wall until her toes scraped the floor. “Sammy warns you not to come looking for me by yourself and you do. He tells you not to come in here, and not only do you ignore him again, but you bring me a bottle of water. You came in here to take care of me. And for what?” His fingers squeezed and she felt her heart strain to pump. “You think you can ease my pain? Make it all better?” He brushed a hand over her breast and grinned. “Or maybe you think I’ll fuck you again.”

He tossed his head back and laughed.

“You’re a stupid little girl.” He blinked away the black and dipped his lips to hers, kissing her sweetly. “But I do enjoy watching you suffocate… I never told you that before, but it’s beautiful. Your eyes get real wide and the color starts to drain from your mouth. This sweet, delicious mouth.”

He forced his tongue inside and Y/N’s eyes rolled back. She clawed at his arm, but the strength was gone, the will fading close behind. Her vision ebbed and her fingers slid from his arm, falling limp at her sides.

“Do me a favor, babydoll,” he whispered, licking at her lips one final time. “Wait for me right here.”

With a flick of his wrist, she was on the floor, falling like a ragdoll at his feet. Air filled her lungs but she was already too far gone to wake fully. She tried to move, but everything was a struggle, everything ached.

“I’ve gotta go take care of my baby brother.” He ran a hand through his hair and she watched in horror as he stepped out of the Devil’s Trap. “Then I’ll be back for you."

Kind blue eyes were there when she woke and soft hands were helping her to sit up.

Castiel smiled sadly and lay his palm across her forehead like a mother would.

“How are you feeling?”

Y/N blinked rapidly, clearing the haze from her eyes. She squinted up at the angel and then panicked.

“Dean!” She scrambled to her feet, leaping from her bed and grabbing his arm for balance. “Where’s Dean!”

Castiel took both of her hands in his and forced her to calm down. “He’s fine. He’s…” A smile turned his pink lips. “It worked, Y/N. Dean’s back with us.”

It felt like the walls were crumbling inside of her. Everything slid downwards and she went with it, falling against Castiel, her body exhausted, her mind a mess of relief and worry.

He sank to the floor with her and held her close.

“He’s going to be fine,” he whispered. “You are too.”

The summer rushed through her head, ups and downs, horrors and worse. She saw black eyes and blood, felt every bruise, every strike against her flesh.

She wiped her eyes and sat back. “How?”

Castiel looked down, eyes sad but clear. “Time.”

Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, fresh from a shower. His hair still damp, gray flannel a little dark around the collar from collecting the drippings. He was hunched over, elbows on his knees, head in his hand.

She knocked gently and he looked up.

“Hey, Dean.”

He turned as he stood and started to go to her, but something stopped him. Flashes of what he’d done played on the empty space between them and he lingered over the bruises on her throat, the cut on her forehead. His fingers were twitching and he shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the unwanted movements.

“Hey.”

She wanted to run to him, to wrap her arms around him and hold him close, but he looked nervous to have her there, scared almost.

She cleared her throat and wrung her hands. “You feeling OK?”

Eyes on the floor, he nodded. “Yeah. All good.” He looked up through his lashes, afraid to face her fully. “You?”

She sniffed back a wave of tears and swallowed hard. “Yeah. I’m- I’m good.”

The lies hung like an iron curtain between them, massive and unbreachable.

She turned to go. “Well, if you need anything, just holler.”

He was on her before she reached the door, shaking fingers wrapping around her wrist and pulling her back. She spun and crashed into his chest, burying her face in his shirt, clinging to him. He was warm and alive. He was safe. He was home.

She could feel him trembling, hear the shaky intake of air. He held her tight, his big hand on the back of her head, the other slung around her middle. He pressed his cheek to the top of her head.

“Y/N, I can’t- I- I’m so sorry-”

His heart was racing against her ear and she snuck her arms around him, locking him to her.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “We don’t have to do that yet. Just… just be here.”

A tear escaped his eye and fell, landing on her arm.

“OK.” His hug grew a little tighter. “I’m here.”

She sighed and let the tears go. “That’s all I ever needed…”

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super-marvel-dc · 7 months ago

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Y/N: *Walks into The Avengers compound, and greets them* hello, who called about the demon problem?

Tony: That would be me, Tony Stark *shakes Y/N's hand*

Y/N: Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark.

Dean, from the corner of the room: And I'm Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sammy.

Sam: It's just Sam...

Y/N, to Tony: Are they apart of your team?

Tony: No.

Steve: We called them in because they're supposed to be the best of the best when it comes to demons.

Dean: We are the best of the best, but these demons are something else.

Sam: We've never encountered something like them before.

Y/N: Can you describe them to me?

Dean: Well, normally the demons we fight look human and have black eyes.

Sam: Yeah, there are different, though... They looked like actual monsters you see on TV and had different colored eyes...

Dean: Yeah. And they had some kind writing in their eyes, couldn't tell what, though.

Y/N: Uh oh...

Everyone: Uh oh, what?

Y/N: I'll be right back, I'm going to call my friends... I know exactly what we're dealing with, and it's not good.

Y/N: *On the phone call* Yeah, and tell Rengoku to tell the others we'll need their help, too.

Y/N: *Hangs up, and looks at everyone*

Tony: Who's Rengoku, and what's going on?

Y/N: *Sighs* OK, I'll explain everything to you, but you're gonna have to sit down for this because it's a long story.

Dean: Firstly, start off with who the hell you are.

Y/N: My name is Y/N Y/L/N, my friends and I deal with these demons you told me about...

Y/N: I'm a Hashira.

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cheynovak · 8 months ago

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A Demon's Kiss

Demon Dean x F/Reader Y/N

Warnings: Anger, Jealousy, a little aggression maybe, nothing too bad.

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

*Does not follow The SPN storyline *

Dean turned in to a knight of hell, on one of his karaoke/ bar adventures he see's an old flame from way back, Y/N the daughter of a hunter, he and Sam met years ago. Seeing her enjoying her time with a new man made him feel wel... something.

His new found edgy self-confidence made him walk up to her.

In the dimly lit bar, the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and the murmur of conversations. Dean Winchester, now a demon, a knight of hell, sat at the far end of the counter, nursing a glass of whiskey. His eyes scanned the room, seeing a familiar face he hadn't seen in years.

He spotted her. Y/N. His old girlfriend. She was sitting at a table near the back, her laughter mingling with the clinking of glasses. Dean's heart twisted painfully at the sight of her. He hadn't expected to run into her here, of all places.

She was stunning, as always. Her hair cascaded in waves down her shoulders, and her smile lit up the room. But what caught Dean's attention was the man sitting across from her. Some guy. He was leaning in close, his hand grazing her arm as he whispered something in her ear. Dean's jaw clenched with jealousy.

He couldn't bear to watch her with someone else. Without a second thought, he downed the rest of his drink and made his way over to her table. As he approached, Y/N looked up, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Dean?" she breathed, disbelief evident in her voice.

"Hey, sweetheart," Dean said, forcing a smirk. "Long time no see."

Y/N's date eyed Dean warily, sensing the tension in the air. "Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with caution. Dean ignored him, his focus solely on Y/N. "Mind if I join you?"

Y/N hesitated, glancing between Dean and her date. "Um, I'm actually..." Dean slid into the seat next to her, not giving her time to protest. His presence casting a shadow over the table. Y/N shifted uncomfortably, her eyes darting nervously between Dean and her date.

"So, who's your friend?" Dean asked casually, his gaze never leaving Y/N's face. Y/N swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing pink. "This is... uh, this is Alex," she stammered, gesturing to her date.

Alex nodded short, his expression guarded. "Nice to meet you," he said, though his tone lacked sincerity. Dean smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "So, how do you two know each other?" he asked, his voice dripping with faux innocence.

Y/N shot Dean a warning look, but he ignored it, revelling in her discomfort. "We... we met through a mutual friend," she said, her voice tight. Dean raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "A mutual friend, huh? Funny, I don't remember you having friends, sweetheart."

“In our job it’s hard to keep any relation.” He clarified over his shoulder to Alex. Y/N's cheeks grew even redder, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "It's... it's complicated, but can be done." she muttered, avoiding Dean's gaze.

Dean leaned in closer to her, his hand on her thigh, voice low and husky. "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot lately," he said, his breath brushing against her ear.

Y/N shivered at the proximity, her heart racing in her chest. "Dean, please," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the din of the bar.

But Dean ignored her protests, his lips grazing her earlobe as he whispered words of seduction. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but he couldn't resist the temptation.

Meanwhile, Alex watched the exchange with growing unease, his fists clenched beneath the table. He could sense the tension between Y/N and Dean, and he didn't like it one bit.

"Maybe we should go somewhere more private," Dean murmured, his eyes smouldering with desire.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her head spinning with conflicting emotions. She knew she should resist Dean's advances, but she couldn't deny the pull she felt towards him.

Before she could respond, Alex stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I think it's time I leave," he said, his voice tight with anger. Y/N glanced up at him, torn between relief and disappointment. "Alex, wait," she said, reaching out to him.

But Alex shook his head, his eyes blazing with fury. "I'm done playing games, I don’t think this will work." he spat, before storming out of the bar without another word.

Y/N watched him go, her heart sinking in her chest. She knew he was hurt, but she couldn't deny the spark of excitement that Dean's presence had ignited within her.

Dean watched Alex leave with a satisfied smirk, knowing that he had won this round. Turning back to Y/N, he reached out and cupped her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.

"Looks like it's just you and me now, sweetheart," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she looked into Dean's eyes, knowing that she was about to cross a line from which there was no turning back. And as Dean leaned in to capture her lips in a searing kiss, Y/N surrendered herself.

As Y/N felt Dean's lips pressing against hers, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions swept through her. Breaking away from the kiss, she searched his eyes, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Dean... w-what happened to you? You're so... different."

Dean pulled back slightly, his gaze darkening as he studied her. "Different how?" he asked, his voice low, flirty.

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing with memories of the man Dean used to be. "You used to be... kinder," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise of the bar. "Softer. This... this isn't you."

Dean's jaw tensed at her words, his expression hardening. "People change, Y/N," he said, his voice cold and distant as he tried to kiss her again. "It's called survival."

Y/N shook her head, pushing her hand against his chest, refusing to accept his explanation. "But this isn't just change, Dean," she insisted, her voice tinged with desperation. "This is... dark. I can see it."

She looked around, “Where is Sam?”

Dean's gaze flickered with something akin to regret, but it was quickly masked by a steely resolve. "Maybe you just didn't know me as well as you thought you did, Sweetheart" he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Y/N felt a pang of sadness at his words, realizing that the man she had once loved was slipping further and further away from her grasp. "After all we’ve been through. I don't believe that." she said firmly.

Y/N reached out to touch his arm, her fingers trembling with uncertainty. "Please, Dean," she pleaded, "What's wrong? I want to help you."

"It's too late for that, Y/N," he said, his voice heavy with regret. "You should go. It's not safe for you to be around me." As Y/N watched Dean leave the bar, a sense of despair washed over her.

Ignoring the warning bells ringing in her mind, she followed him, determination burning in her chest. "Dean, wait, Dean! I dealt with not safe before. What happened?" she called out, her voice echoing in the empty hallway outside the bar.

Dean stopped in his tracks, his back still turned to her. "I told you to go, Y/N," he said, his voice rough with emotion. Y/N took a step closer, her heart pounding in her chest. "I can't just walk away, Dean, not when you clearly need help" she said, her voice trembling.

"FUCK Y/N!" he growled, pushing her against the wall with a strength she knew wasn’t normal, his voice sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "I told you to leave. Can't you take a hint?" Y/N recoiled at the venom in his voice, her heart pounding with fear.

"Dean, this isn’t you.," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "Who, what are you." Dean’s beautiful green eyes turned pitch black, Y/N’s heart stopped for a second. "I don't understand, how?"

Dean spat. "I'm not the man you once knew. And you... you're just a pathetic reminder of that past."

Y/N felt her heart shatter at his words, tears stinging her eyes. "No," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. Too scared to speak out loud but he heard her. His eyes changed back, looking her up and down.

In a blur of motion, he closed the distance between them, his hands gripping her shoulders with a bruising force. Y/N gasped as she felt his lips crashing down on hers, his kiss fierce and possessive.

She tried to push him away, but Dean's hold on her was unyielding, his kiss a cruel, different from the ones they shared before. As he finally pulled away, Y/N saw a flicker of regret in his gaze. But it was quickly replaced by a cold, empty stare.

“Ay, Romeo, ready yet?” A strange short man in a black coat appeared behind them. Dean looked over his shoulder before turning back to her.

"Leave, Y/N," he said, his voice a low growl. "Before I do something we'll both regret."

----

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:

@yvonneeeee @suckitands33

-> If you want to be added to any of my stories, let me now! (Most stories are 18+!)

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6lostgirl6 · 10 months ago

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Dean Winchester Masterlist

🩸 = Smut/18+ Themes 🩸

Fics:

Headcanons:

Yandere Alphabet - Demon!Dean

Dean As Your Boyfriend HCs - Coming Soon!

Imagines/Scenarios:

#dean winchester masterlist #dean winchester #michael dean #demon dean #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #yandere dean winchester #yandere dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester headcanons #dean winchester imagines #supernatural #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfic #spn #spn fic

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daughterofcain-67 · 1 year ago

Text

𝕽𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 (𝔭𝔱.10) 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩

(Dean Winchester x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Dean has escaped the dungeon of the bunker in an attempt to stop the treatments Sam was giving him and he was thirsty for revenge. Sam’s blood, your blood, he was ready to see pools of it for everything the two of you had done. Will you and Sam manage to get him back to the dungeon before he takes your lives?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: being chased by demon dean, lives on the line. Last part! I think that’s it… Opened doors for a sequel?

Then…

“There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back, Sammy and I keep trying to tell you that.” He said as he watched Sam walk back to that table with those damned needles he was hating more and more by the second.

Dean tensed up again and he could feel himself losing his strength. His vision was beginning to go blurry but as he lifted his head, he caught a glimpse of you before the door was shut.

This wasn’t over. And Dean would make sure of that.

Now…

You were with Sam since he was giving Dean a little bit of a break from the constant blood injections. You could tell how worried he was for Dean and whether he would survive or not.

“Sam, any treatment like this is going to have a bad process. But you know how strong Dean is and you have to know deep down that he will push through this. He’ll make it.” You said, the younger brother nodded a little before he looked at you.

“Can I ask you something?” You heard Sam asked, which you nodded back, “Why did you want to be here while Dean goes through this?”

You looked down at your hands. “The reasons are selfish really… I’ve never seen a demon be cured before. And since Crowley is still obviously a demon, I wanted to know if something like this would actually work. Especially since this time you won’t be stopped until Dean is fully human.”

“Purely selfish, huh?” He asked with a little smirk on his face. You narrowed your brows, wondering what he meant by it.

“Yeah?”

“So nothing happened between you and Dean?” You sighed a little.

“Maybe there were some small moments here and there over the course of being away. But any chance that we had is pretty much shot. Once he’s human, I’ll be out of your hair and things will go on as they were before.” Sam had that puppy dog eyes look again, the one where his brows were slightly narrowed and aimed upward.

“You know, we can always try the cure with you too. If that’s something you’re interested in.”

A brow of yours arched slightly. Then you remembered one of the visions you’ve had, the one your mother was in specifically. You remembered the second version of you had become human. But the difference if you became human now, you wouldn’t have a reason to make a deal for Dean.

“Let’s focus on getting you your brother back first, alright? Priorities.”

“Right… of course. Let’s get back in there.” Sam said and he got up.

You nodded and you followed behind him on the way to the dungeon. You took in a deep breath as you walked downstairs. Sam opened the door and when the both of you walked in, your eyes widened.

“He’s gone.”

Sam’s words didn’t make you any more comfortable with the confirmation of what your eyes were seeing. The chair he was sitting in was empty, the rope that bound his wrists were undone.

“When did Castiel say he was going to get here?” You asked as the both of you rushed back upstairs.

“I’m not sure… but we need to split up and find Dean until he does get here.”

You nodded at Sam’s words and you started going a different path. The only problem was, you had only been here once. You didn’t know the layout of the bunker like Sam and Dean did. We’re you a little concerned? Sure. But were you going to die? As long as Dean didn’t have the First Blade, you were fairly confident that the answer would be a no.

It was quiet throughout the bunker, and all you could hear for a moment was your own footsteps. Luckily for you, you’ve had plenty of experience sneaking around as quietly as you could. Dean’s not the only one who’s ambushed people after all. It was sort of exhilarating in a way to be on the flipped side. But you had to stay focused.

You knew Sam was taking the library area since you had seen him going that way. Maybe he was looking sour something that would hold Dean. You snuck around the lobby before you could hear a voice coming from the kitchen.

“Oh Sammy! Come on out for a while. Don’t you wanna spend time with your big brother?”

You swallowed hard at the deep grumble of Dean’s voice. You wondered how much he had recovered, how much stronger he was. Then the idea hit you… was he now a half demon? Would he now be weakened by something other than the First Blade now?

You pulled out your knife and looked down at it, seeing the metal shine with the light and you wondered if you or Sam would have to weaken him significantly. You knew Sam wouldn’t want to do it and you honestly didn’t know if he would have the strength to do it. So maybe you would have to end up finding Dean before he finds Sam.

You caught a glimpse of Dean walking out of the kitchen going somewhere else holding a hammer and your eyes widened. The first thing that came into your mind was him bashing Sam’s head to the point where his brains were on the walls.

All you could do at the moment was hope that Sam would be careful.

You waited a few moments before you decided to follow Dean. He ended up going to where all of the bedrooms were again and this part, to you, felt like some kind of maze. The sound of a door being kicked in echoed through the halls and you hid around a corner.

The lights wen’t out before an alarm sounded. Red emergency lights started shining down the halls and within the rest of the bunker.

“Way to make things more ominous…” You barely even whispered, but the sarcasm was still there.

You heard Dean rambling about something relating to him not wanting to leave, not without killing Sam first. You didn’t hear it all since he was walking away so you turned around to start walking a different way to see if you could cut the half-demon off somewhere.

You tried to think of where the demon would go next. If he’s going after Sam, where would Sam go next?

You gradually made your way back to the library and then there was the sound of Dean’s voice again, but this time he wasn’t speaking to Sam.

“I can’t believe you have the nerve to work with my brother against me, Y/N! To think, we could have had something special and shared the First Blade together. But you! No, you had to go and give the blade to Crowley! Good goin, Sweetheart.”

You bit down on your tongue to keep from speaking, you made your way through the library’s shelves to keep hidden.

There, you saw Dean walking through completely out in the opened, unconcerned of whether or not someone could come out and fight him. You didn’t know if he’d grown conceded or simply convinced in his abilities.

“You know, my brother’s smart. But he sure does have his stupid moments. I can’t believe he thought that demon cuffs could hold me with human blood injected in me. The cuffs don’t work on humans, and neither do devil’s traps.” Which of course gave you a good idea of how he escaped and walked himself right out of that dungeon.

You stepped out from behind the shelves and Dean froze. You could see in the silhouette from the red lights that he was slowly turning to you. When you saw his eyes, you saw the smirk he had when he was about to thoroughly enjoy killing someone or something.

“Well, not the one I wanted to kill first. But you’ll do.” He said, and you clenched your jaw.

“I’d like to see you try to kill me.” You said.

He strode over to you before lifting his arm and he used the hammer to point at you, “You’re a sorry excuse for a demon, do you know that?” He asked.

“Oh please, what are you on about now?” You questioned and stepped towards him, your own blade firmly in your grasp.

“You think you’re so good at what you do. But ever since you stepped into Sammy and my little world, you’ve become more useless than even Crowley.” He said then he took a swing at you, you were able to dodge the hammer in his hand and you held his wrist before holding your knife to his neck.

“There’s nothing wrong with being interested and learning a few things once in a while. It doesn’t make me any less of a demon.” You said, but Dean shifted his wrist in your hand before he managed to pin you, chest first, against one of the bookshelves.

“No, but being interested makes you weak. Maybe being around Crowley and I made you weak too, or were you always just this bad and that’s the real reason why you went into hiding all those years? Gosh, I bet Abaddon turning in her grave at how much you’ve fallen.” He said.

You were so tempted to use your abilities and melt his insides from within just to prove him wrong, but you knew that Sam needed Dean.

So instead, you used your strength since you were more of a demon physically than Dean was at the moment, and you pushed yourself back and turned before you managed to slash Dean in the arm. You heard him hiss with pain and he looked down at his wound.

You could tell he could now feel pain, but his wounds were still able to heal themselves. To you, maybe this was a sign that Sam’s treatments were working.

“I’m not going to let you kill your brother, Dean. He’s all you’ve got. You’ve gone to far with this demon bullshit ad you aren��t cut out for that kind of life.” You promised and he lifted his gaze from his arm up to you and his brows were narrowed, gaze dark yet his eyes weren’t black yet.

“You’re not gonna let me, huh? Well I guess it is good I ran into you first. Get’s me my fill of some kind of revenge for what you did.” He said and he swung the hammer at you again. You used your arm to block it and you failed to realize before how Dean was pretty strong even for just a half demon.

“And the whole, not being cut out for this bullshit? I’m more than qualified for this. I know damn well that this? This is what I’m meant to be. But you? I’m glad that you left after all. You’re nothing but a worthless, lowlife demon that can’t fit into her old man, or even her old woman’s shoes. It’s better for me that you walked out on what we had.” He promised.

“You brought that on yourself Dean and you know it. You got yourself caught by Sam because of your own actions.” You said and when you raised one hand to make your next move, Dean used his own and you felt his hands around your neck before he pinned you against the wall nearby.

You were having the biggest deja vu moment, and you knew now Dean was fully intending on killing you or at least leaving you close to dead until your body could heal itself. His grip around your neck was tight and the eye contact between the two of you made your heart race at what he planned to do next.

“I can’t believe I thought it was a good idea to bring you along from Cincinnati. To even let myself have some kind of soft sot for you. Maybe Cain had the right idea of being alone and not have anyone to hold him back. No one to keep him from his goals or true killing potential.” You heard Dean say as you tried to use one of your hands to release his grip.

“Oh Sweetheart, prying my fingers won’t help you in this case. Honestly, you just have to accept the fact that it’s just too late. I’ll find Crowley, I’ll get the First Blade back, and then I will kill you. Slowly. Painfully. And believe me, Doll… it will be the most fun I’ve had throughout this entire ordeal.” He promised. Then he raised the hammer and knocked you out with it.

Then all you could see in that moment was black.

Dean let go of your neck and watched you fall to the ground. He stared at you for a moment and thought about the promise he just made. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on that blade again and kill you just as brutally as you’ve killed in your past. You would just be getting a taste of your own medicine is all.

He had so many plans. He wouldn’t kill you right away. No that would be far too kind after you betrayed him and he wanted this to be worth it.

For now, he had a new task. He would need to find his brother before you woke up so he could finally kill him without you being in the way. First, he would need to go to the control room. The alarm was getting on his nerves so that had to be taken care of. And surely Sam wasn’t too far from the control room, so it should be killing two birds with one stone.

He took the hammer and he saw your blade beside your unconscious body. He kept the hammer but he bent down and took your blade and put it in his boot where he would typically keep other knives when he was alive. Then he ate his way to the control room.

Once inside the control room, he saw where Sam flipped the switch to lock everyone in. So dean switched it back and hummed to himself.

“That’s much better.” He said.

Then he heard a grunt, followed by the slamming of the door and he smirked.

“Sammy, this isn’t your big move, is it? I half expected more from you since you’re supposed to be some kind of brainiac college boy.” Dean chuckled before he heard his brother speaking through the other side.

“Dean, we were so close. Just let us help you out of this. I know you’re still in there somewhere just please, let me finish the treatments.”

Dean was on the other side of the door, listening and he shook his head and looked down at the hammer. Enough was enough.

With a mighty swing, Dean started hammering the door down as some kind of makeshift axe. Time after time, Dean could tell pieces of wood were coming apart.

“You think you know me so damn well, don’t ya, Sammy. Thinking that I even wanna be cured!” He continued to hammer at the door to break it down and he could begin to see the other side.

The look of terror on his brother’s face was so exciting. It was so worth being trapped in this bunker just to see the look his brother had when he knew he could die.

“Personally, I like the disease.”

“Dean stop! I don’t want to use this blade on you!” Sam continued but Dean honestly didn’t care as he continued to hammer his way out.

“Well ain’t that a bitch. Because you genuinely mean that.” Dean laughed.

“You won’t kill me with that thing. You have a choice and I know that showing mercy is the choice you will inevitably make. But me?” Another swing at the door, “Me, I’m blessed! See I’ve got just enough demon in me that killing you? That’s not even a choice. It’s second nature. And it’s what I want, and it’s exactly what I’m gonna do.” Another swing.

“And I’ll enjoy every second of it.”

Once Dean broke through the door, Sam was already gone. Dean stepped through the door and didn’t see any sign of his brother. He looked down with frustration, running a hand through his thicker hair. He was so close, and this cat and mouse game was going on for far too long.

He walked into the hall to hunt for his brother again, not knowing how much time he would have before you would wake up again.

“Come on, Sammy. Let’s sit down and talk about this. Maybe grab a couple of beers or somethin.’” He said.

Sam wouldn’t listen to Dean’s lame ass attempts to lure him into a trap. He should know better. Sam had been hunting almost as long as Dean has after all and he was just as skilled.

Sam’s heart was racing though. His mind was telling him that he needed to just kill Dean if he kept this up. But everything in him was holding him back from doing so. That was his only brother, and he didn’t deserve to go out like this. The Dean he knew never would have wanted this sort of ending.

He stayed close to the wall and peeked behind a corner to look and see if Dean was there. He let out a shaky breath and when he turned around, Dean was there swinging his hammer so he ducked down, leaving the hammer stuck in the wall. Sam shot right back up and held the demon blade up to Dean’s neck.

“Well… You’ve got me, Sammy. It’s your move.”

Sam looked at his brother, watching him tighten his jaw with that defiant glare in his eye. He couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it. There had to be some way this could work.

When he lowered the blade, Sam braced himself to run again when Dean stepped forward but then…

“Enough. I’m not waiting for Castiel.” You said and you held your hand open, eyes glowing red.

Dean’s eyes turned black as he looked at you. When you began to close your hand, Dean could feel his insides starting to overheat. When he opened his mouth, that same demonic sound came out as if the demon side of him was fighting for its life once more.

“Y/N! No don’t do this!” Sam pleaded.

Then Castiel came onto the scene from seemingly out of nowhere and with his stolen grace, he managed to entrap Dean.

“It’s over Dean.” Castiel said, and the demon was unable to fight with you holding him along with Castiel.

You watched as Dean was secured in the chair again and every precaution was taken. Then you heard Sam and the angel talking.

“Even with all that human blood in him, Dean said that he still wanted to be a demon. Je didn’t want to be human at all. Why is that?”

“The only explanation I can think of, only human’s can feel genuine happiness. But they can also feel such profound pain.” The angel replied and you looked at Dean who was unconscious because of the amount of human blood in his system.

“It’s easier…. Emotionally. Demons don’t get attached to anything.” You said and they both looked at you.

“Demon’s never have to feel genuine feelings. When they get betrayed, they blow it off like it’s no big deal. If something good happens to them, it’s only for a second. When a demon typically looks back on their human life, they hate it. They hate remembering the heartbreaks and the pains and sorrows they’ve gone through. They prefer it that way.”

“But you never had that chance, how do you know that?” Sam asked.

“I was raised in Hell, remember? Demons talk about their past lives once in a while and I’d overhear them.” You answered but then you looked at Sam, “May I speak with you for a moment?”

Sam lifted a brow but he looked at the angel, “I’ve got him.” Castiel reassured and Sam escorted you out of the room.

“What did you want to talk about?”

This was it. It was now or never for you. You recalled the vision with your mother saying that you traded in your demonic nature to be human, but you’d be forever tortured after a deal you made on behalf of the older Winchester. But seeing as how this would likely be the end.. You knew you wouldn’t have to make that deal.

Maybe, just maybe that vision wouldn’t have to come true.

“I want you to make me human.”

The words took Sam back, “After all you just witnessed, after Dean almost dying, you want to put yourself through that?”

“Sam, you don’t understand.” You began, “I get that Dean wanted to stay a demon, believe me. I get that human emotions are scary and I can see why Dean didn’t want to go back to it, but ever since you and Sam came into my tattoo parlor in Ohio, I’ve learned so much. I see why you went through all of this trouble to make Dean human again. I can see and understand it all but I can’t feel it. Other demons have had the opportunity to feel and…”

“And you were robbed of that chance.” Sam concluded and you looked up at him before you nodded.

Then the hunter let out a sigh before he nodded, “Okay, I’ll do it. But just keep in mind, this is a dangerous process. I can’t guarantee this will work on someone who’s never been human.”

“Anything is worth a try.”

“Sam!”

Dean could hear a somewhat distant voice call. He slowly tilted his head and he felt like he had this massive migraine. But it also felt like something was finally leaving him.

When Dean raised his head and opened his eyes they were initially black, but they were finally fading away and Dean gasped a little before exhaling. When he shook his head slowly one last time and looked up, he saw Sam and Castiel with concerned looks on their faces as if they were on the defensive. Sam was holding the Holy water and Cass had an angel blade in his grasp.

“You look worried, fellas. What did I miss?” He asked.

Dean watched as Sam opened up a flask of Holy water and Dean flinched when he was splashed in the face with it. There was no reaction other than that. He wasn’t burning, wasn’t in any kind of physical pain.

He was human…

“Welcome back, Dean.” Sam said with a smile, but Dean?

Dean couldn’t feel happy. He suddenly had the weight of everything he had ever done while he was a demon on his shoulders.

Either way, he still felt out of it. But he was still out of it and when he looked beside him, he saw you in a chair beside him.

You too were bound and unconscious. He saw that there were tiny little holes in your arms. He must’ve missed a lot but his heart dropped to is feet at the sight of you and remembering everything the two of you had been through.

He looked up at Sam for a moment, “Can somebody get me out of these? I feel like my ass is fallin’ asleep.”

Sam laughed and Dean smiled slightly, honestly glad that he could hear it again. But he knew things would be different, right? Why wouldn’t they be after he tried to kill Sam. Maybe Sam wouldn’t want him back in the bunker after that day.

“Yeah, I’ve got it.” Sam said and Dean watched his brother untie the knots and Dean stood up, feeling is knees pop with old age.

“It’s good to have you back, Man. How do you feel? Can I get you anything?”

Dean could both hear and feel his stomach rumbling, “Well I guess the metabolism’s back. Do we have any burgers or did you stock up on the rabbit food since I’ve been gone?”

“Let me get you some cholesterol.” Sam asked, Dean could tell that he seemed happy. Relieved even.

Sam left the room and Castiel looked at Dean. Then Dean could feel Castiel’s hand on his shoulder, causing the hunter to look down at his friend.

“Things will be okay.” Castiel said. Dean swore that he hated when Castiel could read his mind once in a while.

“I tried to kill him, Cass. How is that okay?”

“Dean, he’s your brother. He’s gone through Hell and back just to look for you. You saw how relieved he was when you came too. You two will be okay.” Castiel promised.

Then Dean turned to look at you. Your hair was falling down from it’s messy bun and it seemed that you had a long day with this whole ordeal too. Not to mention the fact that he tried to kill you as well. But there was something different about you like this. What he sensed with the mark wasn’t something of demonic power. It was something different entirely.

“She’s made the decision to become human.” Castiel revealed and Dean looked at him.

“What?”

“She said something about being robbed of the chance at being human and wanted a taste of what it was like. I have no idea if she has any other intentions.”

“How long as she been out?” Dean asked.

“From what I gather from Sam, she’s handling the pain well, unless she’s about as good as keeping a facade as you. But she’s in a similar condition as how you were in the beginning about having immensely low energy and strength. We won’t know for sure how well treatment will be until it is complete.”

Dean nodded a little and he remembered that you had given the first blade to Crowley. If he was puking his guts out without it while he was human, he wondered how you would be without it especially if you became human after all.

“You should get some rest, Dean.” Castiel mention, causing Dean to shift his attention back to the angel, “The treatment took a lot out of you. You should use this time to allow yourself to heal.”

“But what if Metatron comes ba-“

“Metatron is in good hands. He’s locked away for good and no one will be letting him out. Heaven and Hell seem to be in balance for the time being. It’s quiet out there.” Castiel said and Dean sighed.

“I mean it. Go ahead and go to your room, and enjoy whatever burgers your brothers bring for you. I’ll be keeping in touch.” Castiel said and turned to leave the dungeon.

“Cass?” The angel turned around, “Thanks for stepping in when you did. You were a big help.”

Castiel gave a little nod and he left.

Several hours have gone by and Dean had eaten the burgers and fries that Sam had gotten for him and now the two of them were back at the dungeon again. Dean was keeping a watchful eye on you while he held onto the Holy water.

“Do you think she’ll stay with us if this works and she’s human?” Sam asked his brother. Dean looked down at the mark on his arm, the one thing that started this entire ordeal in the first place.

If she became human, all of the pains she would feel and the urges she would have would become amplified because she wouldn’t be a demon anymore. If anything it would be smart for you to stay. He wanted you to stay but deep down he knew what you would pick.

“I don’t know, Sammy… It could be a fifty fifty shot.” Dean lied.

Sam frowned a little and he watched as his brother got up to stretch his legs. Then he watched dean leave the room, probably to get a drink or something. He was just glad that he finally got Dean back. His main priority was taken care of and it was a win. The one win he and Dean have had in so incredibly long.

Sam looked at you, still unconscious but they were now out of blood. He needed to use a couple of extra needles on you than he did Dean, so maybe that was why you were still out by now and Dean had a shorter recovery time than you did with the treatment.

His eyes widened when he saw you moving your head and you let out a groan.

“Dean! Dean get in here!” Sam shouted, but he wasn’t sure if he was too far to hear him.

The younger brother continued to observe your actions and you started to grip the arms of the chair, he could see that your knuckles were turning white. It was like you were in more pain now more than ever.

“Dean!” Sam called again and that was when the older brother came stumbling in to see what was happening and if it was some sort of emergency.

Dean looked at you and saw your condition. His jaw tightened before he walked over to you. He placed his larger hands on top of your own before he looked down at the mark on your arm that was like this. He moved his hand and touched the mark to try and soothe the new kind of pain you were feeling.

Then he looked at you, your eyes were an angry red as you glared at him. He saw your narrowed brows, but there were tears of blood treating down your face. This was something he hadn’t expected from you.

But he supposed every demon could have a different experience with being cured. He knew for sure though if you weren’t bound you may have killed him.

“Y/N. If you want this to work, then let it go. That training you were brought up with, your tests, these past three months, all of it.” He told you sternly.

He watched you huff and you closed your eyes before looking down. You shook your head and gripped the chair even tighter before you were completely still.

When he looked down at your hands, he saw that your grip had loosened.

“Dean? Is she..” Sam trailed off and when Dean looked up at you, he slowly backed up to use the holy water.

The brothers watched you slowly lift your head and like dean, your eyes were the glowing red for a moment but eventually… your eyes went back to their normal color. It was like the smoke had cleared in your eyes and the brothers looked at each other for a moment.

“Go ahead and try it.” Sam told Dean, who nodded and he splashed the Holy water on you.

No reaction.

You were human…

You sat there looking on the floor, feeling so weak in that moment and a little dizzy from the ordeal. But you old finally feel something.

It was honestly a little overwhelming and you weren’t sure what you were feeling first.

You could feel the joy because this actually worked. You felt happy that you could actually have the chance to be human and see what it was like. But you could feel the regrets of killing and listening to Abaddon for all of those years. You could feel both empathy and sympathy when you started remembering different conversations with your clients. You could feel the heartbreak and the anger from the argument you had with Dean.

But you were so incredibly thrilled with all of these new feelings, even if you weren’t exactly physically able to show it at the moment.

When you looked up, the first set of eyes you met were the green ones of Dean. You recalled all of those moments with Dean. You would watch him kill and the fact that he wanted you there made you feel happy, but watching him with other girls, that was some sort of sickening feeling you heard of as envy.

But the night that you were only supposed to negotiate with Dean on crowley’s behalf, the night when you slept with him for the first and only time… You knew that night he had a soft spot for you, and you knew you had feelings for him. But you were sure now that he was human again, he would regret all of it.

You wouldn’t regret a second of it, but you knew your decision would make you feel that dreaded thing… pain.

“Hey, boys… so this is what it’s like on the flipped side, huh?” You asked as you shifted your gaze from Dean to Sam and the taller brother smiled at you.

“I suppose so. Welcome to the new life, Y/N. It’s got a lot of ups and downs, but I think it’s worth it.” Sam said.

You watched as Sam walked towards you with the knife and he cut the ropes that were holding you down. Once he did, you stood up and you rubbed your wrists since they were sore.

Soreness… that was new, but you could definitely get used to it.

“So, Y/N… Why don’t you stay with us for a while? Get some rest and get used to this new body of yours?” Sam asked.

“Sam…” Dean said in a solemn tone.

“Oh.. right. I’ll leave you two to uh.. I’ve gotta go umm… I’ve got a thing.” Sam said as he awkwardly left, and you gave Sam a little grin.

You looked up at Dean and he cautiously stepped closer to you.

“You aren’t staying.. are you?” Dean asked softly.

“You know that I can’t…”

“Y/N, those things I said.. None of that was all me. Being a demon changed almost everything about me. Honestly I don’t even think before I turned you and I even had a chance to really learn about each other.”

“Then how much of it really was you, Dean? Tell me? Was it the sleeping around with other girls? Was it the anger you felt when I was trying to look out for you? What was it?”

“That night was real… the moments before the battle with station were real when you were telling me about what the mark would do to me, those were real. When I thanked you for staying when Sam and I were split up, that was real.”

You shook your head. “It may have been real for a moment. But like you said, you and I didn’t have the time to really learn. All of this has been nothing but a scrambled mess and there was nothing solid for us.”

“If you go out there, it will be a lot more dangerous. You’re human now and there’s a lot more than just the First Blade that can kill you now.” Dean said, and you could detect the very same thing that he argued with you about - worry.

“Dean? I’ll be okay. I’ve had several centuries if not millennia of experience in combat. Plus I have this.” You said an you held out your arm. “You know it won’t let me die.”

You saw Dean frown for a moment and you sighed before you took a hand of his.

“I have to leave, Dean. I told your brother that I would help you with your mark. I’ve not been much help before you became a demon throughout this entire journey. You’re still stuck with the mark, and the cycle will continue for you if we can’t find a way to free you from the burden. Now that you’re free from being a demon, it’s time to finally hold up my end of the bargain and see what I can do.”

Dean listened to you speaking and he hated that you were leaving. Everything in him wanted to protect you now that you were brand new to this human thing. He hated how attached he’s become, and he hated it even more that he was about to lose you even though you claimed you were still trying to help him.

He couldn’t let you leave without at least trying. He couldn’t let you go without making some sort of move to see if something would chance for you.

He lifted his hand and pulled you into him by the back of your neck and he gently smashed his lips against yours. Your lips were warm and soft, and he wanted to remember this moment even if it was bittersweet.

He could feel you melt into his touch and he deepened the kiss and he tilted his head. Then he lifted his other hand and used it to cup your face in his palm. After a few seconds, he could feel something warm and wet drip onto his palm from your eyes.

When he parted from the kiss, he watched you lift your hands and wipe your eyes, “Damn it,” he heard you say, “I didn’t know humans were prone to crying like this…”

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. Then he took one of your hands. Then he handed you his favorite pistol. He didn’t mind so much parting with it oddly enough. Especially when they had their own arsenal at the bunker.

“If I don’t see you again.. keep this. I know we may not have had the best time but… I do want you to have at least something good from this ordeal.”

You looked down at the new weapon in your hand. You’ve seen Dean carrying it around before the whole Metatron thing and you remembered how much he used it. You couldn’t believe that he was giving this to you, but this would be something you would treasure.

You looked up at him and you gave Dean a soft yet sad smile. “They say parting is such sweet sorrow..”

“You sound like Sam when you quote Shakespeare.” Dean smiled. “Be careful out there, okay?”

You nodded as you started to go up the stairs where you saw Sam drinking some coffee. He deserved some downtime after a long several months of looking for Dean.

You walked over to Sam and you placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Look into the Book of the Damned.”

Those were the last words that you spoke to the Winchesters before you went off into the night to begin your new journey.

If you were lucky, you would run into the brothers again. But for now… it was the end of an era for the Daughter of Cain.

The end of the girl Raised in Blood….

Thank you guys so much for reading this fanfiction! If you have read this series completely through, let me know what your favorite part was and if you’d like to see a sequel at some point! Thank you all so so much for your support as I wrote this fanfiction. It was so much fun writing and I hope you all enjoyed!

A special thanks to @roseblue373 and @deans-spinster-witch for their continued support and giving me feedback on nearly every chapter of this story. Your support and excitement for each part was what got me excited and eager to write more! So thank you both so much!

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @johannelis2302nely @justtrying2getby-blog @alternativeprincess94 @doctorlexilouwhosblog @deangirl96

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holylulusworld · 2 years ago

Text

In demon veritas

Summary: Getting kidnapped by demons sucks. Listening to the ugly truth even more.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Character: Sam Winchester, unnamed demon

Warnings: angst, threats, hostage situation, unrequited feelings?, fluff, violence

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“What a nice day, isn’t it? When I cleaned my knives this morning, I didn’t think Dean Winchester’s bitch will end up being my guest,” you spit in the demon’s face. Well, the face that black-eyed bastard stole.

“Fuck you,” while the demon circles you like prey, you try to untie the knot holding your hands behind your back. Dean taught you how to do it, but it feels like you forgot about everything you ever knew.

“Aw, what a pity I’m stuck in that bitch’s body,” the demon leans closer to lick over your cheek. “Well, I can still get a new meat suit and keep you up on that promise.”

“I’m telling you this only once,” you hold the demon’s gaze, “let me go and I won’t kill you. If not, you will end like all the other black-eyed bastards before you. Dead and gone.”

“Says the scared little girl restrained to a chair,” she snickers now. “I bet you already peed your pants. You are nothing but the Winchesters' little sidekick. Not even strong enough to kill the big bad monsters on your own.”

“Again. Fuck you.”

She slaps your face. Hard.

Blood runs down your face, dripping onto your favorite flannel, soaking the fabric. It’s the one you got for your birthday from Dean. You cherish it. The bitch will pay for ruining it.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you try to buy some time. Dean and Sam must already know that you got kidnapped. Your friends will trace your phone and bring you home. It’s only a matter of time.

“Patience, sweetheart,” you grimace. She has no right to use the pet name. Not her. Only Dean is allowed to call you that. “I guess that’s one of the reasons Dean is so annoyed with you.”

“Fuck. You.”

“I bet he never fucked you,” she whispers in your ear. “Hmm…yeah. I remember the night you told that busty blonde he’s your boyfriend. Boy was he mad,” she chuckles darkly. “He wanted to kick you out of the car on his way back to the motel.”

“You’re lying,” you huff, but wonder how the demon can know about that night. Did Dean get mad? You only wanted him to come back to the motel with you. It was a stupid joke…

“Sweet cheeks, I’m not the one pretending that I’m not in love with that Winchester,” she grins as you drop your gaze. “Aw, you’re so bad at hiding your feelings. And Dean is bad at hiding that he’s fucking annoyed with you.”

You ponder. Is it true?

“I don’t believe a single word leaving your lips, demon bitch.”

“I’m actually a guy,” she laughs loudly. “Little miss sunshine here was only the next best meat suit I found. I had to get you. I’m not picky. A body is just a body,” the demon shrugs.

“Do you think I care?” you spat. “I’ll kill you no matter what. In the end, you’re a demon bitch. Guy, girl, guinea pig. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Back to Dean,” closing your eyes you take a deep breath. Demons lie, you know that. “Did you know he hates that you are always around? You wash his clothes, make him food, check on him if he drinks too much.”

“It’s called friendship,” you bite back. The demon can’t know that you start to ask yourself if Dean is annoyed with you.

“It’s called clingy, sweetheart,” the demon gets a knife out and presses the tip into your cheek, drawing blood. “He hates your pie too. Dean thinks it tastes like old socks.”

“He loves my pie.”

You don’t even know why you fight with the demon over pie and your friendship with Dean. What does a monster know about your bond with the elder brother?

“He hates it, just like—”

“Like what?” you cock your head to watch the demon choke. The demon starts coughing out black smoke as the door flings open. “Dude, what’s wrong? Did you smoke the wrong stuff?”

“Sweetheart? Y/N,” while Sam plays an exorcism on his phone, Dean storms into the room, pushing the whining demon out of his way. “Fuck, you worried us there for a minute.”

“Dean, hey,” you awkwardly watch Dean cut the ropes holding you to the chair open. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to worry you or Sam.”

“We are friends and hunting partners,” Sam says while checking on the unconscious girl. “I think she’ll make it. We came just in time.”

“Get her out of here,” Dean says while looking you all over. He’s worriedly checking on your swollen face. “That bitch got you good.”

“Yeah…I guess. Sorry for being so…” you bite your tongue. Can you tell Dean about all the things the demon said? “You know…clingy sometimes and stuff.”

“Where is this coming from?” Dean doesn’t hesitate. He picks you up in bridal style, grumbling under his breath as you don’t answer. “Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“The demon knew and said a few things.”

“Demons lie.”

“You’ll tell me if I’m clingy, right?” you murmur. “If you don’t like my pie, it’s fine. I can buy a pie from now on.” You close your eyes and take a deep breath, waiting for Dean to tell you he hates that you are clingy.

“Y/N,” he stops walking to look at you. “Sweetheart look at me.”

You blink one eye open. “No cheating. Open your eyes. Both,” he hums when you open your other eye too. “Good. Y/N, I love your pie and that you are attentive. You wash my clothes too.” He grins now. “I hate doing laundry.”

“I know.”

“And I hate the pie Sammy buys. I like yours much better.”

“Okay.”

He sighs as you still don’t believe him. His eyes drop to your chest, and he inhales sharply seeing the blood on your flannel.

“You need a new flannel,” Dean concludes. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“I liked this one.”

“I know…”

“Uh-what’s this?” After Dean patched you up, and looked you all over again, he brought you a flannel. Now you are sitting on his bed, covered by two blankets, and stare at the flannel he put on his bed. “That’s a little too big.”

“It’s one of mine,” he says. “Only if you want to wear it.”

You nod eagerly.

“I want to see my favorite girl in my flannel,” he casually says. “How about you put it on, and I'll get us a snack?”

“I can go back to my room. I’m fine, Dean.”

“I’m not sure about that,” he points a finger at your swollen cheek. “I’ll keep an eye on you tonight. Maybe tomorrow too. You can never know.”

He smirks.

“If you say so, Doctor Winchester.”

“You are in capable hands, miss,” Dean pecks your forehead. “I’ll be right back to take good care of you…”

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #In demon veritas #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean x reader #dean x you #angst

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delulu4dean · 1 year ago

Text

“Dean isn’t Dean.”

Warnings: cutting(not self inflicted), choking, sexual situation, mild violence

Pairings: Demon!Dean X reader, Dean X reader

Prompt: second chances, demon! Dean, Bobby’s daughter

Word count: 2,297

You wish you could’ve been there for him. Maybe things could’ve turned out differently. Dean and you always had this connection. She and Dean have been close since childhood. You lived with your dad, Bobby, who’d often look after the boys. When Bobby died, Dean promised to look after you. And he did. You joined the brothers on hunts, and when they moved into the bunker, Dean insisted you moved in with them. He owed it to Bobby.

It was hard for you. You and Dean both felt it, the tension between you. You couldn’t fight it, so you didn’t. Secret meet ups in his room after Sam fell asleep, quickies in the back seat of Baby, no doubt you were super compatible, sexually speaking. But the two of you had trouble committing. So friends with benefits is all you ever were.

So when Metatron killed Dean, all you could do is beat yourself up over not telling Dean how you really felt. And then he up and left. You don’t know how a dead man could do that, but he left a letter, so he couldn’t possibly be dead anymore.

✰✰✰✰✰

Dean is here, back in the bunker. Sam managed to bring Dean back and he’s trying to get Dean back to normal. You haven’t seen him yet, but you heard about what was going on. Dean was a demon now. Sam had warned you to not go in there. You insisted you’d be able to handle it, you’re just as capable of a hunter as he is. You’ve learned from Bobby, and you’ve learned from him and Dean.

“Look, Y/N, I know about you and Dean sneaking around. And I see the way you look at my brother. You love him,” Sam tells you.

You scoff in response, crossing your arms.

“I don't love Dean, not like that. And he’s your brother. Wouldn’t that make you emotionally vulnerable?”

“Dean and I have been through things like this before, Y/N-“

“And how has that turned out? Dean selling his soul for you? Dean tricking you into allowing an angel to possess you? Your judgment is always clouded!” You don’t hold back, telling Sam exactly how you felt. “I’m going to see Dean. Got it?”

Sam nods, and you walk past him to where Dean was supposed to be sitting. You look around confused.

No way a demon got out of the trap or the cuffs.

“Dean?” you call out.

Before you could process the hands on you, you’re pushed against a wall, with a hand over your mouth.

“Hiya, Y/N/N,” Dean smirks. “Long time no see. Long time no feel.” He put his other hand on your waist.

You remove his hand from your mouth, and whisper shout, “Dean, how the fuck did you get out of that?!”

“Human blood does wonders. Human enough to walk out, demon enough to kill Sammy. Don’t worry babe, you’re not on my hit list. Well not that hit list.”

You roll your eyes, before processing what Dean said about Sam.

“You can’t kill Sam, he’s your brother,” you look up at him.

“I wasn’t going to, and then be brought me here, locked me up, and kept injecting me with human blood.”

“Dean,” you cup his face. “You’re not you anymore.”

“No shit, I’m better. I’m the new and improved Dean.”

“I loved who you were before,” you furrow your eyebrows.

“Loved?”

“Dean… I’m sorry I couldn’t help you, I couldn’t save you.”

“I don’t need to be saved now, princess.”

You don’t know why, but you felt a strange attraction to the demon in front of you. Purely sexual, obviously, it wasn’t the man you fell in love with. But this darkness in him, it’s kind of sexy.

“You may like yourself right now, but I don’t. I miss the old Dean, my Dean.”

Dean’s eyes soften for a moment, only a moment, but you can still see he has a soft spot for you.

“Dean, let’s just talk, okay? Let’s just sneak you into my room, and we can… talk.”

“Talk?” Dean raises his eyebrow.

“Come on Dean,” you beg.

“Lead the way.”

You take the first step, looking down the hall to see if Sam was still around. Once you see the coast is clear, you gesture Dean to come out. You take his hand and run to your bedroom, before locking the door.

Dean kicks off his shoes and lays in your bed, resting his head on arms. Dean is always layered up so him laying in your bed wearing a t-shirt and jeans is the equivalent to lingerie.

“Let’s get to it,” he finally breaks the silence, catching you staring at him.

“To what?”

“To the sex, or ‘talking’ as you put it.”

“Dean, I meant actual talking.”

“Come on princess, I know you can’t resist me.”

“Dean…”

He has a point, and you know it, you can’t resist him. But you also know he wants to kill Sam, and you can’t have that. Sam was like your best friend. And you knew if you had any chance of getting Dean back, he couldn’t live with himself if Sam died because of him.

“Okay let me just slip into something more comfortable, wait in the hall,” you tell him.

“What if Sam sees me?”

“You’re scared of Sam?”

“No, but I know you. You’re a people pleaser. You don’t want Sam to be disappointed in you for conspiring with me. For not immediately getting him to stop me.”

“Fine I guess we can just talk for real then. Not ‘talk.’” You tease him.

He sighs and gets off your bed.

“You got two minutes,” he tells you, before stepping out.

Quickly you pull out your phone messaging Sam.

→ Sam, Dean escaped, and he’s looking to kill you. He doesn’t want to hurt me though, at least not yet. You need to get out of the bunker before Dean finds you.

Are you sure you’ll be okay?←

→Yes

You quickly put your phone on your nightstand, and take off your jeans, and your tight fitting tank top, and throw on an oversized t-shirt that used to belong to Dean.

You hear the door creak as it opens, and Dean walks in. He locks the door, and looks at you smiling.

“Ready now?”

You only nod in response, watching as he takes his shirt off and throws it to the ground.

His lips crash into yours, laying you down on the bed. He positions himself between your legs, lifting your shirt a little. You gasp as you feel his hand rubbing you from the outside of your panties. His lips depart from yours, as you close your eyes in pleasure. You missed this.

“‘Y/N, I can’t just leave you in the bunker with that monster.’ Strange, now why would my brother be texting you that?”

You open your eyes, gulping in fear.

“I was really hoping I’d get off with you, and then let you go. Never see you again. I didn’t want to kill you,” Dean’s hand wrapped around your throat. “But stupid little goody two shoes Y/N, you couldn’t keep your pretty little mouth shut.”

You tear up looking at the Dean who wasn’t Dean anymore.

“Of course, that’s why the old me loved you so much. A selfless hero, that’s what I, he, loved so much about you.”

Dean loved you. Dean loved you, but that Dean is gone. And now all you can do is see red. You shove the demon off you and run to the door, unlocking it. But before you can open the door, he grabs you by your hair and throws you against the ground. You groan in pain, attempting to get up. But he pins you to the ground.

“Nobody is going to save you, princess.”

“Dean, please, I just want to help you!”

“Who said I wanted your help?” his voice booms. “I’m going to tie you up, and make you watch me kill Sam, before I slowly kill you.”

You’re disgusted by the demon that replaced Dean. You spit in his face, and he slaps you.

“Bitch!”

“Give me back my Dean!” You scream.

“Oh he’s gone, hunny. You’re stuck with this one. But don’t worry, you’ll be too dead to miss the old Dean.”

More tears spill from your eyes, but you refuse to break down, not right now. Right now you need to focus on surviving until Sam can get to you.

Dean finds a knife from under your bed, and grabs it.

“You know, I always wanted to try a little knife play,” he smiles devilishly.

He lifts your shirt, and traces your side with the knife. He traces it down to your thigh, before digging it into your skin. You wince in pain, but it could be worse. This is him going gentle on you. You’ve seen Dean, your Dean torture demons before.

Dean continues to drag the blade against your skin, before bringing the knife up to his lips, and licking your blood off of it. You only bite your lip to hide your whimpers of pain.

He puts the knife to your skin again, just a bit deeper.

“Maybe, we could do it, one more time,” Dean suggests.

“Dean, please, no,” you beg in a hushed tone.

“I guess the knife play will have to do then,” Dean shrugs, carving into your skin.

You give up on the tough act and give in to the tears, your cries filling the room.

“Aw come on, don’t cry. It’s not fun when you’re not fighting back. Give me a challenge,” Dean frowns.

“Do what you want Dean. The Dean I loved is gone, my dad is gone, and you’re going to kill Sammy-“

“Hey, only I get to call him Sammy,” he brings the knife up to your throat.

“I don’t have anything left. I give up, you win Dean.”

But before Dean can continue, you’re both interrupted by a voice coming from your doorway.

“Get off of her!” Sam yells.

Dean looks behind him at his younger brother.

“Or what?”

“Look, it’s me you want. Leave her out of this, Dean.”

Dean stands up and walks over to his brother. You watch as Castiel walks behind Dean, and grabs him. Dean groans and tries to throw Cas off, but the angel doesn’t budge. He drags the struggling demon out of your room as Sam runs to you, helping you up.

You look at your bleeding legs, all cut up. It stings but the damage is so minor compared to other injuries you’ve gotten as a hunter. But mentally, emotionally, seeing Dean that way hurt you in ways you can’t comprehend.

You just bury your face in Sam’s chest and sob as he hugs you.

“It’s okay, Y/N, you’re okay. We’re going to get Dean back. Whatever he said, what he did, the real Dean would never do.”

You nod, you know it’s true. But seeing him do it, heading the words come out of Dean’s mouth, demon or not, the image is burned in your brain.

✰✰✰✰✰

It’s been a week since Dean was human again. You’ve been hearing Sam and Cas talk about the mark, and how they need to help Dean.

You haven’t been able to leave your room since then, you can’t face Dean. Especially with the Mark of Cain. This Dean may be more human, but there’s still a darkness in him.

Sam is worried about you, of course. He’s brought you water to your room, which you drank. But you never touched the food he brought over to you. You just laid there, thinking about what Dean did to you.

Dean loved you.

Dean hurt you. Whatever pleasant memories you had of Dean are now replaced with memories of him hurting you.

You hear a knock on the door.

“Go away Sam. I’m not hungry.”

“It’s me, Y/N,” Dean’s voice corrects you from the other side of the door.

“Y/N can’t come to the door right now, try again later.”

“Y/N, please. We need to talk about what happened.”

You sigh, getting up from your bed for the first time that week. Your feet drag along the floor, and you let Dean inside. A wave of relief comes across his face as he tries to hug you, but you jump back in fear.

“Please… I am so sorry. I would never hurt you. The real me. It kills me to know what I put you through-“

“Dean, don’t. I know it wasn’t the you that’s in front of me right now, but in a way it was. Because it was your face, your hands. You. Physically you. And I can’t get it out of my head Dean.”

You lift your shorts to reveal the cuts Dean left. You couldn’t ask Cas to heal them for you, he doesn’t have his grace.

“Please, let me make this right. Give me a second chance. I won’t ever hurt you again, I promise. I’m so so sorry.”

“Dean…” you avoid his eyes, knowing you’d melt if you’d look into them. “I just,” you choke back a sob threatening to come out.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to tell you before all this happened, but I do. I promised your dad I’d protect you, and I failed. I failed him, but most importantly I failed you. I just need a second chance, because you deserve to know you’re loved. How much you mean to me.”

You look up at him, and you were right. You melted right there, into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so so sorry.” He repeats over and over, holding you close.

✰✰✰✰✰

A/N Hi! I’m Ashley, and on TikTok I used filters to choose my prompt for me! My TikTok is itsafangirlthing so if you wanna see the process of picking out my prompt I got the video there, but basically that’s why my prompt isn’t detailed. This is my first attempt of writing on tumblr, but I do have some writing in wattpad under _itsafangirlthing_ if anyone still uses it lol thanks. Byeeee

#supernatural #dean x reader #dean x y/n #demon!dean #demon!dean x reader #dean winchester angst

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lila-lou · 8 months ago

Text

✨Beyond saving - Pt. 2✨

Summary: Dean is back and no longer a demon. But with all the emotions he has to deal with now, he would rather die.

This is part 3 of "Beyond saving".

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!, Mention of rape, Language, Angst, Hurt

Word Count: 5518

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As the hours stretched on, the pain seemed to deepen, sinking into your bones and settling in your soul. At first, you lay on the floor, tears flowing freely as you grappled with the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to consume you.

But as time passed, a numbness set in, dulling the sharp edges of your agony and enveloping you in a cold, empty void. You lay there, lost in the darkness of your own thoughts, the weight of your suffering pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

After hours and with trembling limbs and tears streaming down your face, you forced yourself to your feet, the pain in your broken wrists and ribs a constant reminder of the brutality you had endured.

With each step, you felt the weight of your pain bearing down on you, threatening to crush you beneath its unbearable burden.

You made your way towards the bathroom, each movement filled with agony.

As you sank into the warm embrace of the bathtub, the water enveloped you like a soothing balm, offering a brief respite from the relentless ache that gripped your body. But even as the comforting embrace of the water washed over you, the pain remained.

Your wrists throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, the broken bones protesting with every movement. Each breath sent sharp spikes of pain shooting through your ribs, the fractured bones protesting against the strain of simply existing. And between your legs, your pussy throbbed with a raw, tender soreness, a painful reminder of Dean's brutal assault.

As you lay there, staring blankly at the water stained crimson with your own blood, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness wash over you. It wasn't just your body that bore the scars of Dean's cruelty, but your heart and soul as well.

Your face bore the imprint of his violence, your Skin bruised and swollen. And beneath the water, your bruised buttocks throbbed with pain, the memory of his forceful kneel still fresh in your mind.

As Sam and Cas returned to the bunker, a sense of urgency filled the air. Sam's heart raced with fear as he noticed the dried blood staining the kitchen floor, his mind racing with dread at the thought of what could have happened to you. Without hesitation, he began knocking frantically on the bathroom door, calling out your name with increasing desperation.

"Y/N, open up!", Sam's voice was filled with concern and panic as he pounded on the door, his hands trembling with fear. "Please, we need to make sure you're okay!".

But there was no response, only silence echoing back at him from the other side of the door. His heart sank as he exchanged a worried glance with Cas, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him like a heavy stone.

"Cas, we need to get this door open", Sam urged, his voice laced with urgency as he turned to his angelic friend for help. "Something's not right. I can feel it".

With a determined nod, Cas focused his powers, channeling his energy into the door with a burst of light. In an instant, the lock clicked open, and Sam pushed the door open with a sense of dread gnawing at his insides.

But as he stepped inside, what he saw took his breath away. There you were, lying motionless in the bathtub, surrounded by water tinged with the faint traces of blood. Sam's heart clenched with fear as he rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch you.

"Y/N, can you hear me?", Sam's voice was thick with emotion as he gently shook your shoulder, his eyes wide with fear. "Please, say something. Anything".

But you remained silent, your eyes vacant and distant as you stared blankly ahead. Sam's heart sank as he realized the depth of your pain.

As Sam pleaded with Cas to heal you, desperation crept into his voice, his eyes pleading with the angel for help. But despite Cas's best efforts, his healing powers seemed ineffective against the depth of your injuries. You looked terrible, completely broken, your body bearing the physical and emotional scars of Dean's cruelty.

Gently, Sam scooped you up in his arms, wrapping a towel around you with Cas's help, mindful of your fragile state.

As he held you close, he could feel the weight of your pain pressing against him. With each sob that wracked your body, his heart broke a little more, his own tears mingling with yours as he whispered words of comfort and reassurance.

"You're safe now, Y/N", Sam murmured softly.

With each step, each movement, you cried out in pain, your broken body unable to withstand even the slightest touch.

Again Cas tried to heal you. His touch enveloped your broken body, his powers surging forth with a gentle glow. With a focused determination, he began to mend the shattered bones in your wrists and ribs, his efforts slowly easing the physical pain that wracked your body.

As the warmth of his healing magic spread through you, you felt a glimmer of relief wash over you, the sharp edges of your agony blunted by his divine intervention. But even as your physical wounds began to heal, the scars that marred your soul remained untouched, a constant reminder of the darkness that had consumed you.

With a heavy heart, Cas realized the limitations of his power. Despite his best efforts, he could mend your broken bones, but the wounds that lay within you ran far deeper than he could reach.

"I've done what I can for your injuries", Cas murmured softly, his voice filled with regret as he regarded you with a solemn gaze. "But healing your soul… that will take time".

Sam's heart ached as he watched you, his own eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and sorrow. He longed

Three long weeks passed before you found the strength to speak again, the weight of your silence bearing down on you like a heavy burden. With trembling lips, you finally opened up to Sam, your voice barely above a whisper as you recounted the horrors that Dean had inflicted upon you.

"I… I couldn't stop him", you began, your voice trembling with emotion as you struggled to find the words to convey the depth of your suffering. "Dean… he… he hurt me, Sam. He hurt me in ways I can't even begin to describe".

Sam's eyes filled with tears as he listened to your words, his heart breaking with each revelation. He reached out to you, his hand offering silent support as you continued to speak, recounting the brutality of Dean's actions with a raw honesty that left him reeling.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N", Sam whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea… I never thought Dean could… could do something like that".

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to come to terms with the reality of what had happened. "I… I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive him", you admitted, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at him the same way again".

From that moment on, everything changed. The lightness and laughter that had once filled the bunker were replaced by a heavy silence, the weight of your pain casting a shadow over everything you did. Even the thought of Dean filled you with a sense of dread and betrayal, and you found yourself withdrawing further and further into yourself, your hope for redemption slipping away with each passing day.

Six months had passed since Sam had succeeded in healing Dean from the darkness of his demonhood. As Sam carefully uncuffed him in the dimly lit basement, a sense of trepidation hung heavy in the air. Dean’s first question, as the shackles fell away, was for you.

“Where is she?”, Dean’s voice was filled with a mixture of concern and longing as he scanned the room, searching for any sign of your presence. But Sam’s expression remained firm, his resolve unyielding as he stood between Dean and the truth.

“Not now, Dean”, Sam replied gently, his voice tinged with sadness. “She’s… she’s not ready to see you yet”.

Dean's heart sank at Sam's words, a heavy weight settling in his chest at the thought of your absence. "I understand", he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm… I'm not sure I'm ready to see her either. Not after what I did".

Sam's gaze softened with empathy as he looked at his brother, understanding the depth of Dean's guilt and remorse. "She's been struggling, Dean", he explained gently, his voice filled with concern. "It hasn't been easy for her these past six months. She's… she's hurt".

Dean's jaw tightened as he listened to Sam's words, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a leaden weight. "I know", he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "And it's all my fault".

Sam reached out, placing a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. "We'll get through this together, Dean", he reassured him, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "But it's going to take time. It's going to take a lot of work to earn back her trust".

As you entered your room, after a few days at Jodie´s, the familiar scent of Dean enveloped you, sending a shiver down your spine. It was a scent you had once found comforting, a reminder of the love and connection you shared with him. But now, it filled you with a sense of unease, dredging up painful memories that you had tried so hard to bury.

Unaware that Dean was back and healed, you began to unpack your belongings, your mind drifting back to the last time you had been in this room together. The memory of his touch, his laughter, and the warmth of his embrace lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what had been lost.

Little did you know, Dean had been there just moments before, his presence lingering like a ghost in the room. He had come seeking solace in the familiar surroundings, hoping to feel some connection to you.

But as you moved about the room, your senses tingling with the weight of his presence, a sense of foreboding washed over you. It was as if the walls themselves were closing in, suffocating you with the memories of a love that had turned sour.

And as you stood there, frozen in place, the realization slowly dawned on you—Dean was back. He was here, in this room, just minutes ago, his presence a haunting reminder of the pain and betrayal you had endured.

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to come to terms with the truth, the weight of his absence and his return crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You knew that facing him again would reopen wounds, dredging up emotions you had spent months trying to suppress.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, Sam found you frozen in the room, your emotions palpable in the air around you. Concern etched deep lines into Sam's face as he approached, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

"We need to talk", Sam said gently, his voice filled with compassion as he reached out to touch your shoulder.

You turned to face him, your expression a mixture of anguish and resignation. "I already know", you whispered hoarsely, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sam's brow furrowed with concern as he moved closer, his hand lingering on your arm. "Y/N, I know this is hard, but you can't just run away from this", he urged softly, his eyes searching yours for some sign of understanding.

But you were already moving towards the door, your mind clouded with pain and uncertainty. "I can't do this, Sam", you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. "I can't face him again, not after everything that's happened".

Sam's grip tightened on your arm, his expression filled with determination. "You don't have to face him alone", he insisted, his voice unwavering. "I'll be there with you, every step of the way".

For a moment, you hesitated, torn between the desire to flee and the need to confront the truth. But in the end, it was Sam's unwavering support that gave you the strength to stay.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that bound you together.

As the days passed, the weight of Dean's presence hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the turmoil that engulfed your life. Despite Sam's assurances, you couldn't bring yourself to face him, the fear and uncertainty gnawing at your insides like a relentless beast.

Each night, you lay awake in bed, listening to the echoes of Dean's screams as he wrestled with his nightmares. His tortured cries pierced the silence of the night, a haunting melody that echoed through the empty corridors of the bunker.

And during the day, you remained holed up in your room, barricaded behind closed doors as you sought refuge from the chaos that threatened to consume you. The sound of Dean's footsteps outside your door sent shivers down your spine, the fear of his presence paralyzing you with its intensity.

Sleep became a distant memory, your mind plagued by a never-ending carousel of worries and anxieties. Dark circles formed beneath your eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights and endless torment that plagued your every waking moment.

In the kitchen, your hands trembled as you reached for another cup of coffee, the bitter taste a poor substitute for the comfort you so desperately craved.

Cas found you in the kitchen, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow as he took in your tired and worn appearance.

"Y/N, you look exhausted", he remarked softly, his blue eyes filled with worry. "Have you been sleeping at all?".

You shook your head, the weariness weighing heavily on your shoulders. "Not much", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's been hard to find any peace, especially with him back".

Cas nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I can imagine", he replied gently. "But you can't keep going on like this. It's not healthy".

Tears welled in your eyes as you confessed your fear. "I'm afraid to sleep", you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Every time I close my eyes, I hear Dean's screams and footsteps outside my door. I can't bear the thought of facing him again".

"I can stay with you while you sleep, if that would help".

Your heart swelled with gratitude at his offer, a sense of relief washing over you like a wave. "Thank you, Cas", you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I don't know what I would do without you".

A few hours later, the sound of the bunker door opening signaled the return of Sam and Dean from their hunt. Sam's footsteps echoed through the corridors as he made his way through the bunker, his expression a mix of exhaustion and anticipation.

"Hey, Cas, you here?", Sam called out, his voice carrying down the hallway.

Cas emerged from your room, his gaze meeting Sam's as he stepped into the dimly lit corridor. "Sam", he greeted quietly, his tone somber.

Sam's brow furrowed with concern as he took in Cas's grave expression. "What's going on?", he asked.

Cas hesitated for a moment before speaking, his words measured and deliberate. "Y/N hasn't been sleeping well", he explained, his gaze drifting back to your sleeping form on the bed.

Sam's glanced into the room, his heart sinking at the sight of you curled up on the bed, your face drawn and pale in the soft light.

"What do you mean?", Sam asked, his voice filled with worry.

Cas sighed. "She's been afraid to sleep", he admitted quietly. "So I offered to stay with her while she rests".

"Thank you, Cas", he said sincerely, gratitude evident in his voice. "I'll take over from here".

And as Cas nodded in acknowledgment, Sam stepped into the room, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form with a mixture of concern and tenderness. With Cas's help, he would ensure that you found the peace and rest you so desperately needed.

As Sam and Cas remained in your room, their voices barely above a whisper as they discussed your condition, Dean found himself drawn to the doorway like a moth to a flame. Despite Sam's explicit instructions to stay away, he couldn't resist the urge to see you, to reassure himself that you were okay.

With each hesitant step, Dean's heart pounded in his chest, his footsteps silent on the floor as he approached the room where you lay sleeping. He knew he shouldn't be here, knew he was risking Sam's wrath by defying his orders, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to see you, to make sure you were safe.

As he reached the doorway, Dean's breath caught in his throat at the sight before him. You lay on the bed, your breathing slow and steady, your face peaceful in sleep. For a moment, Dean was transfixed by the sight of you, his heart aching with longing and regret.

But even as he stood there, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him of the pain he had caused you, of the darkness that still lingered within him. He knew he didn't deserve your forgiveness, didn't deserve to be anywhere near you after what he had done.

As Dean turned to leave the room, Sam’s voice cut through the silence like a knife.

“Dean, what the hell are you doing here?”, Sam’s tone was sharp, his eyes flashing with anger as he confronted his brother in the hallway.

Dean froze in his tracks, his heart sinking at the sound of Sam’s voice.

“I just… I needed to see her, Sammy”, Dean replied, his voice heavy with guilt and regret. “I needed to know she was okay”.

"I get that, Dean", Sam said, his voice softer but still tinged with frustration. "But she needs space, especially from you".

Dean nodded, a mix of shame and understanding evident in his eyes. "I know, Sam. I fucking screwed up", he admitted, his voice tight with emotion. "I just… I can't stand the thought of her being in pain and not being able to do anything about it".

Sam sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he tried to find the right words. "I know you care about her, Dean", he said gently. "But right now, what she needs most is for you to respect her boundaries. Give her the space she needs to heal".

Dean swallowed hard, the weight of Sam's words sinking in. "I will, Sam. I promise", he vowed, his voice filled with sincerity.

With a nod, Sam gestured for Dean to follow him away from the room. As they walked down the hallway together, Dean couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed heavily on his heart.

One week later, Sam and Dean sat in the library, the weight of their conversation hanging heavy in the air. They had been discussing Dean's time as a demon, the darkness that had consumed him, and the pain he had inflicted on those he cared about.

After a long silence, broken only by the soft crackling of the fireplace, Dean spoke up, his voice choked with tears. "I can't do this", he admitted, his words barely above a whisper. "I can't live with what I've done to her".

Sam's heart sank at the despair in his brother's voice, the anguish written plainly on his face. He reached out a hand, placing it gently on Dean's shoulder, offering what little comfort he could.

"I know it's hard, Dean", Sam said softly, his own voice thick with emotion. "But you can't give up. You have to find a way to live with what you've done, to make things right".

Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I don't know if I can, Sam", he confessed, his voice raw with pain. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for what I did to her".

Sam's heart broke for his brother, for the torment he was enduring. He wanted nothing more than to take away Dean's suffering, to ease the burden of guilt that weighed so heavily upon him.

Dean’s voice cracked as he continued, the weight of his confession pressing down on him like a heavy burden. “I hate myself, Sam”, he whispered. “I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is… is what I did to her”.

"I know, Dean”, Sam said softly. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t let it consume you. You’re stronger than this”.

But Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked. “I don’t feel strong, Sam”, he admitted. “I feel broken. Like I’m irredeemable”.

"I know she'll never forgive me, Sam", he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I don't blame her. What I did… it's unforgivable".

Sam's heart clenched at Dean's admission, the weight of his brother's pain almost too much to bear. "Dean, you can't give up hope", he said gently, his voice filled with compassion. "People can surprise you. You just have to give her time".

But Dean shook his head, his eyes filled with resignation. "I've lost her, Sam", he said, his voice hollow with despair. "I've lost the love of my life, and the respect I had for myself along with it".

Standing in the hallway, you listened silently to the conversation unfolding in the library. The weight of Dean's confession and Sam's comforting words hung heavy in the air, their voices echoing through corridor.

Tears welled in your eyes as you heard Dean's admission of self-hatred and despair. The pain in his voice cut through you like a knife, stirring a mixture of emotions within you. Part of you longed to reach out to him, to offer him solace and forgiveness. But another part of you recoiled at the memories of the trauma he had inflicted upon you, the scars that still lingered both physically and emotionally.

Taking a deep breath, you silently retreated from the hallway, the weight of the conversation heavy on your heart. You knew that healing would take time, for both you and Dean.

Another week passed, the weight of the unresolved tension between you and Dean hanging heavy in the air. Despite Sam and Cas's efforts to provide support and comfort, sleep continued to elude both of you. And as Cas had to leave to attend to other matters, leaving you without his comforting presence, the nights grew even longer and more restless.

One evening, as you stood in kitchen, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting shadows across the room, you reached for a beer from the fridge. Your mind was consumed with thoughts of Dean and the tumultuous emotions that swirled within you.

But before you could retreat to the solitude of your room, the sound of footsteps drew your attention, and you froze as Dean entered the kitchen. The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved emotions hanging heavy in the silence.

As you found yourself alone with Dean in the very room where he had caused you so much pain, a wave of fear washed over you, paralyzing you in place. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs as though it were trying to escape the confines of your chest. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision as you pressed yourself against the cold surface of the kitchen counter, seeking any semblance of safety and distance from the man who had once been your everything.

For Dean, seeing the raw fear reflected in your eyes was like a dagger to his heart. The weight of his past actions bore down upon him, crushing him with the knowledge of the pain he had caused you. His own eyes filled with tears as he watched you retreat, his heart breaking at the sight of your distress. Seeing you pressed against the kitchen counter, seeking refuge from him, shattered him in a way he hadn't expected.

"I'm so sorry", Dean whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he took a hesitant step forward, his hands trembling at his sides. "I never wanted to hurt you. I swear, I never meant for any of this to happen".

His words hung heavy in the air, filled with the weight of his sincerity. But he knew that mere words could never erase the pain he had caused you. He longed to reach out to you, to offer you solace and comfort.

As Dean took another step forward, his expression wrought with anguish and regret, you held up a trembling hand, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger.

"Don't… don't come any closer", you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with a palpable sense of urgency. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your entire body trembling with the weight of your emotions. Every fiber of your being recoiled at the thought of him drawing near, the memories of his past actions haunting you like ghosts in the night.

"I can't… I can't do this", you continued, your voice wavering as you struggled to maintain your composure. "Not now, not ever. You… you've broken something inside of me, Dean. Something that can never be fixed".

Your words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the irreparable damage that had been done. The distance between you felt insurmountable, a gaping chasm that stretched on for eternity.

Dean froze in place, his heart breaking at the sound of your trembling voice and the anguish etched across your tear-stained face. He longed to reach out to you, to wrap you in his arms and beg for your forgiveness. But he knew that he had no right to ask for such mercy, not after what he had done to you.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, (Y/N). Not after everything I've done".

His words were heavy with resignation, his gaze cast downward as he grappled with the enormity of his mistakes. The pain in his eyes mirrored your own, a reflection of the shattered pieces of both your hearts.

"I just… I just want you to know that I'm sorry", Dean continued. "I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make things right, even if I never earn your forgiveness".

As Sam stumbled into the kitchen, his eyes half-lidded with sleep, he froze in his tracks at the sight before him. The scene that unfolded before his eyes sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins, instantly banishing the remnants of sleep from his mind.

The sight of you, standing there with tears streaming down your face, your eyes wide with fear, pierced through him like a knife.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?", Sam's voice was soft but urgent as he rushed forward, his eyes flickering between you and Dean, who stood nearby with a look of devastation etched across his features.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. His instincts told him that something was seriously wrong.

With a sense of urgency, Sam stepped forward, his gaze never leaving yours as he reached out a comforting hand. "Are you okay", he asked, his voice filled with concern. "What happened?".

With a shaky voice and a forced calmness, you respond to Sam, "Nothing, Sam. Nothing happened". But the tremor in your voice and the haunted look in your eyes betray the truth of your words.

Before Sam could press further, you turn abruptly and practically flee from the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest as you race towards the safety of your room.

As the door slams shut behind you, the sound reverberates through the quiet bunker. Inside the confines of your room, you collapse onto the bed, tears streaming down your face as you try to quell the storm of emotions raging within you.

Meanwhile, Dean stands in the kitchen, his fists clenched at his sides as he stares at the spot where you had stood only moments before. The silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of his ragged breaths and the steady thud of his heart.

With a growl of frustration, Dean lashes out, his fist colliding with the wall with enough force to leave a sizable dent. Pain shoots through his hand, but it pales in comparison to the anguish that gnaws at his soul.

Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes as he sinks to the floor, the weight of his remorse pressing down upon him. He had thought that seeing you again would bring him some measure of closure, some semblance of redemption. But all he had accomplished was to reopen the wounds he had inflicted upon you, tearing them open with brutal force.

In that moment, Dean feels utterly lost, adrift in a sea of regret and self-loathing. He had shattered the one thing he had cherished most in this world, and now he was left to face the consequences of his actions alone.

As Dean sat on the floor, his back against the wall, Sam approached him cautiously.

"Dean, man, are you okay?", Sam asked softly, his voice tinged with worry.

Dean looked up at his brother, his eyes bloodshot and filled with tears. "No, Sam, I'm not okay", he admitted, his voice choked with emotion. "I don't think I'll ever be okay again".

Sam sinked down beside him, mirroring his brother's posture as they both sat in silence for a moment. "Dean, what happened between you two… it wasn't your fault", he said gently.

But Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "No, Sam, you don't understand", he insisted. "I hurt her, Sam. I hurt her in ways that I can't even begin to comprehend. And now… now I don't know how to fix it".

"Dean, you need to forgive yourself first".

Dean's voice trembled as he spoke, the weight of his words heavy with shame and self-loathing. "How am I supposed to forgive myself, Sam?", he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How can I ever look her in the eyes again, knowing what I did to her? How can I live with myself, knowing that I… that I raped my own girlfriend because I was a fucking demon?".

Dean felt like he's drowning in a sea of guilt and remorse.

"Sam, you don't understand", he said, "This… this is worse than anything I ever experienced in Hell. Worse than purgatory. Since I've been back, since I'm no demon anymore, the pain of what I did to her… it's unbearable. It's like a constant weight crushing down on me, suffocating me. I can't escape it, Sam. I can't escape the guilt, the shame, the remorse. It's consuming me from the inside out".

"I don't know how to live with myself, Sam", he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every day, every moment, I'm haunted by what I did to her. And the worst part is… I know I don't deserve to be forgiven. I don't deserve to be happy. I don't deserve anything".

Sam's heart broke for his brother, knowing the depth of his pain. He reached out, wrapping Dean in a tight embrace, offering what little comfort he can. "Dean, listen to me", he mumbled softly, his voice filled with conviction. "I promise you, we'll find a way to make things right. But you have to hold on. You have to keep fighting".

For a moment, Dean allowed himself to lean into Sam's embrace, seeking solace in the comfort of his presence.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 3

#jensen ackles #dean x you #dean x reader #deanwinchtser #sam and dean #dean winchester #castiel #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #sam x reader #dean winchester x y/n #demon dean x reader #demon dean #hurtful #angst

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violentdelightsproductions · 2 months ago

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youtube

Halloween Video #1: Demon Dean x Ellie- New Perspective

"Evil is sexy. Evil does strange things to people. It can be pleasurable, delicious, or addictive, it can make you more badass, and it even makes you more sexy."

After he gets murdered, Dean Winchester wakes up as a demon. Ellie does notice the signs, but she refuses to give up on her lover and sticks by him. After all, he still yearns for her. But Dean's desire to kill grows stronger. Sam and Cass want to attempt and cure him. But the cure might not work. And Dean doesn't want to to be cured.

The song is from the soundtrack of Jennifer's Body, a cult classic teen scream movie about a sexy demon.

I am a God"

Find our Dean x Ellie videos here

Ellie Spencer is an original character character created by@girlshunttoo - Faceclaim Deborah Ann Woll Check us out on ddriverpicksthemusic / girlshunttoo on Tumblr ♥

Find our new Halloween videos and edits here! Our Halloween edits throughout the years!

#Youtube #video #demon dean #halloween #dellie #dean winchester x ellie spencer #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #deborah ann woll #jennifer's body #panic! at the disco #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural imagine #supernatural edit #spooky2024

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wordieworld-woo · 1 year ago

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Some scars cant be healed

Alister x reader, mentioned/ suggested Dean x reader/Castiel x reader

Warning: Mentions of torture, violence canon to SPN, Reader being tortured, self doubt, manipulation

Word count: 745 - unedited (enjoy)

“How many times are you willing to die for them,” Alister sneered. His face in hers , his putrid breath lingering. Every nerve was telling her to run , get away from the demon that was going to torture her. He had said it himself, told her his plan of how he was going to tear her apart. Cut until nothing was left but blood and pain just like he had during her years in hell. How he planned to leave her suspended, barely able to touch the ground, bleeding and nearing death the more days that passed. He wanted her afraid, scared that her mortal life would be taken away, that she’d end up back where they met in hells torture dungeon. She refused to give him that satisfaction, knowing all too well of the pleasure he experienced from seeing her fear.

She stared at the wall, ignoring his taunts and the torture, she stayed quiet as he integrated her avoided giving answers on the Winchesters or Castiel. “Tell me little girl,” he circled where she was tied down. “How many times is it now?” he laughed. She held her resolve despite every instinct screaming to somehow put him into his place. “Bite me…” she said, lacing each word with venom, a final act of defiance. “You know what's funny,” he trailed his knife across her throat “how willing you are to die for them, and how little they care.” “I’ll kill you… I swear,” she snarled. He stabbed his blade into her thigh laughing at the whine that escaped. He smiled at the grimaces and obvious pain she was experiencing, enjoying every second of discomfort she felt. He was only just getting started.

Alister had been at it for hours, and as a master in his craft he was disappointed by what little information he had gotten out of her. How strong her resolve seemed to be. Though little did he know how close she was to breaking, how desperate she had become. That she had given up on Castiel and was praying to god himself to save her. To let her wake up in the arms of her angel, in the arms of Dean just wake up somewhere safe. But she didn’t. God wasn’t listening. Alister was an ‘artist’ always trying new ways, methods of torment in order to get her to speak. To share her knowledge on the Winchesters. Though none of it seemed to work.

“You’ve held together better than I expected,” Alister sang, as he circled her. Examining all the cuts, bruises, burns that had begun to heal, and the many others that were still open. “Where is their loyalty to you… Hmm” She stayed quiet, trying so desperately to ignore his words, and the weight that they carried. Avoiding the thoughts of what if, could he be, knowing too well where they could lead her. She decided that this would be the final time that she reached out to Castiel, that if still no answer came she would allow herself to agree, on what Alister had been saying. “They have none,” he sneered. “You’re just another stray they took in.”

“They don’t care about you.”

A ruffle of wings. Then the anger filled voice of Dean answered “There you’re wrong,” he launched himself in Alister’s direction. She sighed relieved. Grateful that they had come to her rescue. While Dean fought against the Demon, Castiel was quick to release her of her bindings, and examine the exposed wounds. She could read the concern on Castiels face. The feeling of responsibility no doubtly felt as a result of her injuries. “I am sorry I couldn’t find you sooner,” Dean returned at her side, pulling her arm across his shoulders in order to support her weight. “How are you feeling, sweetheart,” Dean asked. His gaze fixed on the blood that covered her clothing. “I’ll live,” “I can only heal so much,” Castiel placed his palm to her head, his grace attaching itself to the more recent damage and stitching her back together.

“Thank you,”

“Let's get you home,” Dean swept her off her feet carrying her from the warehouse to Baby, Castiel following behind. Alister hadn’t succeeded in breaking her, but he had come close. Close to killing her, to getting the information he wanted. She was alive, and breathing in the safety of the people she trusted. But what he’d done had left scars. Perhaps even the kind that angels couldn’t heal.

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cheynovak · 7 months ago

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Brotherly Betrayal Part 2

Dean Winchester x Y/N x Sam Winchester

Warnings: cheating, angst, hurt, ...

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

This part is just pure pain and angst

*Does not follow The SPN storyline *

Recap part 1:

Sam didn’t seek for a new romance but when he met Y/N she seemed to have everything he wanted in a girl. After introducing her to his brother they recognise immediately each other from a spicy night together years ago.

After a year of fantasising about each other, one night they couldn’t resist the lust anymore, and give in. Y/N decided to leave Sam, Dean can’t stand to see his little brother heart broken.

The air hung heavy with silence, broken only by the soft hum of baby’s engine and the rhythmic tapping of Dean's fingers on the steering wheel. Sam sat slumped in the passenger seat, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his mind lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts.

It had been a month since Y/N, had shattered his world with these simple words: "I'm sorry, Sam, it’s best we go our separate ways." The pain was still fresh, like an open wound that refused to heal. He had tried to make sense of it all, to find some semblance of closure, why would she say she cheated, with who did she spend the night.

But the questions lingered like ghosts in the shadows.

Dean glanced at his brother, his heart heavy with concern. He knew Sam was hurting, "Sam," Dean began cautiously, "you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever's on your mind, I'm here for you."

Sam sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping even further. "I appreciate it, Dean, I really do. But I don't even know where to begin. It's like... I thought we were happy, you know?”

Dean nodded sympathetically, his grip tightening on the wheel. He had seen Sam at his lowest, had watched him weather the storms of heartbreak before. But this time felt different. Probably because Dean felt guilty.

"Did she say why she ended things?" Dean asked gently, afraid, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sam shook his head, his jaw clenched in frustration. "No, not really. Just... that she hadn’t been faithful, and that said she needed space, needed time to figure things out. But I can't help but wonder... was it something I did? Something I said?"

Dean watched the road ahead, the headlights cutting through the darkness like a beacon in the night. "I know this is tough, but you got to believe me when I say it wasn't your fault. Y/N's a great girl, but sometimes people just... drift apart. It doesn't mean you did anything wrong."

Sam nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I know you're trying to help, Dean. And I appreciate it, I really do. But I can't shake this feeling, you know? Like there's something I'm missing, something she's not telling me."

Dean's heart clenched at the pain in his brother's voice, the anguish that echoed in every word. He wanted to tell Sam the truth, wanted to confess the role he had played in Y/N's betrayal. But the guilt weighed heavy on his conscience, a burden he wasn't sure he could bear.

"Sam," Dean said carefully, choosing his words with utmost caution, "did Y/N ever mention... not being happy? Like, was there something she felt was missing in your relationship?"

Sam furrowed his brow, his mind racing to recall the countless conversations he had shared with Y/N over the past year. "I mean, she mentioned just... you know, normal relationship stuff."

"I need you to listen to me, okay? And I need you to believe me when I say... Y/N wasn't entirely honest with you." Sam's eyes widened in surprise, his gaze snapping to meet Dean's in the dim light of the car. "What do you mean? What did she say?"

Dean hesitated, rubbing his neck. But he knew there was no turning back now, knew that the truth would set them free, no matter how painful it might be. ”I eh, heard her talking to Charlie before.

His voice filled with remorse, "Y/N... she missed the intimacy, man. And when you couldn't give her what she needed, I guess, she... found it somewhere else. I'm sorry, Sam," Dean said quietly, his voice heavy with guilt, "I should've told you sooner.”

The Impala rolled to a stop in front of a motel, its neon sign flickering feebly against the backdrop of the night sky. Sam stepped out of the car, his footsteps heavy with exhaustion and resignation. He trudged towards the motel room, his mind still reeling from the revelations of the past hour.

Dean lingered by the trunk of the car, his eyes fixed on the dimly lit window of the motel room across the parking lot. He knew what he had to do. As Sam disappeared into the shadows of the motel, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

He scrolled through the contacts until he found Y/N's number, his thumb hovering uncertainly over the call button.

"Hello?" "Y/N," Dean said evenly, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him, "we need to talk."

There was a moment of tense silence on the other end of the line, the static crackling like electricity between them. Then, finally, Y/N spoke, her voice soft and hesitant. "Dean...What... Why are you calling me?" she asked, her words tinged with uncertainty.

"I want you to do the right thing," Dean said firmly, his grip tightening on the phone. "I want you to give my brother another chance."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, the weight of Dean's words hanging heavy in the air between them. "Dean, I... I don't know if that's possible. Things became too complicated."

Dean clenched his jaw, his frustration bubbling to the surface like a volcano on the verge of eruption. "Complicated or not, Y/N, you owe it to Sam to try. He loves you, damn it. And he deserves better than to be left wondering what went wrong."

“Don’t blame me for everything Dean! Last I checked you were there with me.” He knew she was right, he knew that his own actions had played a role.

"I know," Dean said softly, his voice heavy with remorse. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I should've never let things go as far as it did. But that doesn't change the fact that Sam deserves better than to be left in the dark."

“If you really believe he needs the truth, you tell him you slept with his girl, I think he is hurt enough. ” she hangs up the phone. For a moment, Dean was frozen in place, she was right, he didn’t have the guts to tell him. Little did Sam nor Y/N knew Dean chose this motel, the one close to Y/N’s workplace.

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the diner, its cheery facade belying the tension that hung heavy in the air. Sam and Dean sat at a booth near the window, their plates untouched as they waited for the waiter, seeing how Y/N emerged from the kitchen.

Dean glanced up as he saw her approach, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of her. She looked tired, her eyes red-rimmed and weary, but there was a steely determination in her gaze that he couldn't help but admire.

Y/N hesitated as she reached their table, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched her notepad to her chest. "What can I get for you guys?" she asked, her voice strained but polite.

Sam glanced up at her, surprised but his gaze searching her face for, hoping she would meet his eyes. "Just coffee, thanks," he said quietly, his voice tinged with sadness.

Y/N nodded, her movements jerky as she scribbled their order on her pad. "Coming right up," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she hurried back towards the kitchen.

Dean watched her go, his heart heavy with guilt and regret. He knew he had put her in an impossible position, had forced her to confront the consequences of their actions head-on. As Y/N returned with their coffee, Sam watched Y/N closely, his heart heavy with longing and uncertainty. "Y/N," Sam said softly, his voice tinged with desperation, "can we talk? Please?"

Y/N's eyes flickered with apprehension, her gaze darting nervously between Sam and Dean as she searched for a way out. "Sam, I... I can't," she said hesitantly, her voice trembling with emotion. "I'm at work, and I just... I can't do this right now."

As Y/N disappeared back into the kitchen, Sam was left alone with his thoughts.

After her shift she walked to the nearest motel, knowing the brothers would be staying there. She saw how Sam walked out the door. Knowing him, going for a walk to ease his mind.

The sharp rap on the door jolted Dean from his thoughts. He swung the door open, expecting to see Sam standing on the other side, but instead found himself face-to-face with Y/N, her expression stormy and her eyes ablaze with anger.

"Y/N," Dean said, taken aback by her sudden appearance, "what are you doing here?"

Y/N's jaw clenched in frustration, her fists balled at her sides as she glared at Dean with unbridled fury. "I can't believe you guys would show up at my work like that," she spat, her voice dripping with disdain.

"You can't just barge in here and expect me to drop everything just for your needs," she snapped, her voice rising with each word. "I have a job to do, Dean.” "I know I messed up, Y/N," Dean said softly, his voice tinged with remorse. "And I'm sorry for that. But we need to talk. You and Sam need to. We need to clear the air, to put an end to his pain and uncertainty."

"Okay, you want to talk.” She said still angry “Let's talk." Y/N crossed her arms. “Tell me Dean, the real reason you showed up uninvited after me telling you to let me be.”

"The real reason?" Dean repeated, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "The real reason is because we care about you, Y/N. We care about what happens to you, and I couldn't just stand by and watch you push Sammy away."

Y/N's eyes narrowed at Dean's response, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. "Is that so?" she said sceptically, her voice laced with bitterness. "Or is it because you couldn't stand the thought of me moving on without you?"

Dean winced at the accusation, the sting of her words cutting through him like a knife. "Y/N, it's not like that," he protested, “I-I’m trying to make things right."

"And I appreciate that. But it's not that simple. It's not just about saying sorry and expecting everything to go back to the way it was, you don't get to barge into my life and expect me to welcome you with open arms after everything that's happened."

Y/N took a deep breath “Look me in the eyes, Dean. And tell me you want me to get back together with Sam. Tell me you’re here for his feelings instead of your own.” Her eyes stared in his.

With a heavy sigh, he met her gaze, his eyes filled with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "Y/N," Dean began, his voice soft but resolute, "that night... it meant something to me. More than I can put into words."

"I'm falling for you," Dean admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Dean reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently cupped Y/N's cheek. "But Sam will always be my brother, Y/N, I will always put him first." he said sincerely.

Y/N's eyes brimmed with tears "Dean" she whispered shaking her head, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart. “Shh.” his thumb tracing circles on her cheek as he leaned in closer. "You don't have to say anything" he said gently.

"Y/N," Dean said softly, his voice thick with emotion, “I will push my own feelings away. Just... just give Sammy another chance.” Y/N reached out, her hand trembling as she gently brushed her fingers against Dean's hand on her face. "Dean, I ran away not because of what happened between us that night," she confessed,

Her voice barely above a whisper. "I ran away because... because I'm falling for you, too." Dean's heart skipped a beat at her words, the realization dawning on him that their feelings for each other ran deeper than either of them had dared to admit.

His head leaning in until it was just inches away from Y/N's. With a soft exhale, he let his forehead rest against hers, their breath mingling in the small space between them.

"Y/N, I..." Dean began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words. Her eyes brimmed with tears, her heart breaking at the pain in Dean's voice.

Y/N's fingers found their way to Dean's cheek, her touch gentle and reassuring as she caressed his stubbled jawline. Dean closed his eyes, allowing himself to bask in the warmth of her touch, the closeness of her presence.

"Dean, please," she pleaded, her voice tinged with desperation. "I don't want to hurt Sam any more than I already have. But I can't ignore what happened between us. ”

Dean's heart plummeted like a stone in his chest as he felt a cold wave of panic wash over him. Slowly, he pulled away from Y/N, his gaze shifting towards the doorway where his brother stood, his expression unreadable.

Sam's eyes flickered between Dean and Y/N, his jaw clenched in a tight line as he took in the scene before him. For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of their ragged breaths echoing in the small space.

"Sam," Dean began, his voice trembling with apprehension, "I... we can explain."

Sam's eyes betraying the storm of emotions raging within him. He took a step into the room, his gaze never leaving Dean's as he spoke, his voice low and steely.

"I think I've heard enough," Sam said quietly, his words like a dagger to Dean's heart. "I'll leave you two alone." With a heavy heart, Sam turned on his heel and disappeared from the room, leaving Dean and Y/N alone in the wake of his departure.

"Sam, wait!" Y/N called out, her voice thick with emotion. Sam paused in his tracks, his back still turned towards her. Sam, please," Y/N pleaded, her voice trembling with urgency. "Let me explain."

Sam turned to face her, his eyes weary but filled with a flicker of hope. "Explain what, Y/N?" he asked quietly, “How you forget to mention you slept with my brother? That's worse than being cheated on.”

"I'm sorry, Sam," she said softly, tears glistening in her eyes. "Sam, I..." Y/N began, her voice catching in her throat as she struggled to find the right words. "I didn't mean for it to happen. It was a mistake, a moment of weakness."

Sam's expression hardened, his jaw clenched in frustration. "A mistake?" he repeated, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You call sleeping with my brother a mistake? But you just confessed you’re love for him!" He points at their room.

Y/N winced at the harshness in Sam's tone, the guilt and remorse swirling within her like a tempest. "Sam, I'm sorry," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen."

Sam's gaze softened slightly at the sight of Y/N's tears, his own heart heavy with conflicting emotions. "Y/N," he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness, "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to feel."

Y/N reached out, her hand trembling as she gently trying to grab Sam's arm, but he pulled away "Sam, please," she pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. "Please don't shut Dean out. Please give me and him a chance to make things right."

"I don't know if I can," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Sam," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "do you want me to leave, tell me what I need to do, what you need?"

Sam's gaze softened at her words, his heart aching with the pain of their fractured relationship. He reached out, his hand finding hers and squeezing it gently. Sam replied quietly, his voice tinged with sadness, "I don't want you to leave. But I need some time to think. And then I need to talk to Dean."

Dean and Y/N sat in silence on the end of the bed waiting for Sam to return.

When he walked in the room Y/N gave a soft hurt smile to Sam and left the room to take a walk in the cold night. Leaving the brothers, giving time to talk.

Sam's voice cut through the tense silence, his eyes fixed on Dean with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "Dean," he began, his voice steady but tinged with emotion, "I need you to promise you’ll be honest with me. I need you to tell me, everything Dean.”

“Starting with, why... why Y/N?"

Dean's heart clenched at the question, the weight of Sam's gaze bearing down on him. He took a deep breath. "I wish I could give you a simple answer. But the truth is... it's complicated."

Sam's brow furrowed in confusion, his expression a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "Complicated how?" he pressed, his tone tinged with urgency.” You know we had a... a night together years before you met her, right.”

Sam nodded. "And since the moment you introduced me to Y/N, she's been on my mind. Constantly. 24/7. I couldn’t stop thinking about that night Sammy." Dean scratched his neck not knowing is continuing was the right thing to do.

"When Charlie came over, I overheard Y/N talking about her sex life." Sam's eyes widened in surprise, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

Dean hesitated, his mind racing as he struggled to find the right words. "Y/N mentioned how different we were. She compared the two of us." he explained carefully, "and how she wasn't really happy, now.”

He met his brother's gaze, his eyes filled with sincerity and remorse. “And then the three of us watched a movie together. And... and when Charlie left, we stayed for another movie and then... I kissed her.”

“Is that when...” Sam couldn’t finish that question. “No, she stopped it and took off. We were distant for a while.” Sam nodded, remembering the awkward tension in the bunker. “So, when?” Dean searched his face, trying to see if he really wanted to know.

“The night after the bar, you two went home early together, you fell asleep when Y/N dressed up all sexy for you..." Dean began, his voice faltering as he recounted the events of that fateful evening, "I got home earlier, Y/N was in the kitchen, upset, couldn’t sleep, still in the babydoll dress.”

Dean swallowed before continuing. “She was surprised to see I came home. I told her I didn’t sleep with that girl from the bar, I couldn’t, I thought of her all the time. And she said you fell asleep before... That's when it happened. Y/N and I... we... "

Dean couldn't finish his sentence “Just once, Sammy.” “Yeah,” he looked at the floor.” Because she left the day after.”

After a deep sigh Sam continued "I trusted you, Dean," his voice breaking with the weight of his betrayal. "I trusted both of you." Dean felt his heart shatter at the pain in Sam's voice, the guilt and remorse consuming him like a wildfire. "Sam, I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen."

“But, you have to believe me she means more to me than just another one-night plaything. I wouldn’t have done it if it was just sex. I tried to fight it I really did. But I guess we had a little too much to drink to hold back.”

But Sam shook his head, his gaze filled with a mixture of anger and hurt. "I don't know if I can forgive you for this, Dean," he said quietly,

“I’m eh, going to go away for a while. I need time to think. I need you two to give me some space.” Sam said getting up ready to leave. “I’ll eh stay at Jody’s for a while.”

Dean nodded and watched his brother leave the room.

---

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