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deansbeer · 26 days ago

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prized possession ⎯⎯ DEAN WINCHESTER.

⎯⎯ DEMON!DEAN decides to keep your soaked lace panties, because it drives his heightened senses wild for you. and the guy is not one bit shameful about it.

♡ KARI YAPS! god, hes such a freak && i love it sm. i thought of this idea w @titsout4nicholas @a1ecmcdowell @jasvtsc earlier in the day bc i fear demon!dean's corrupted my mind entirely.

📖 JACKLES library.

sex with dean has always been intense, but now that he's a demon, it's on a whole other level—like everything about him, his hunger for you has amplified tenfold. every time he touches you, it's like he's trying to ruin you, to mark you in a way that'll never fully fade. and when it's over, he's always got that cocky, unbothered smirk that drives you insane. tonight's no different.

you're sprawled out on the bed, still catching your breath, your body a trembling mess from what he just put you through. he's leaning against the wall now, shirtless, his jeans hanging low on his hips. his hair is a mess, his lips still swollen from kissing every inch of you, and yet he looks like the devil himself—because, well, technically he is.

you roll onto your side, groaning softly as you reach out for your panties, the pretty black lace pair you'd been wearing before he tore them off of you like they'd offended him.

except… they're not there.

"dean," you say, your voice sharp despite how wrecked you feel. "where the hell are my panties?"

he raises an eyebrow, looking at you like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. "what panties?"

"don't play dumb, winchester," you huff, sitting up on the bed and glaring at him. "the black lace ones. the ones you just ripped off me."

a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, and your stomach sinks. "oh, those," he says, pushing off the wall and heading for the door. "yeah, those are mine now."

your jaw drops. "what the fuck do you mean 'yours'?"

he shrugs, completely unfazed. "i mean i'm keepin' 'em. they're soaked, sweetheart. absolutely drenched. you think i'm just gonna let you throw those in the laundry like they're not a fuckin' work of art?"

you grab a pillow and chuck it at him, but he dodges it easily, laughing as he disappears out the door. "un-fucking-believable," you mutter, shaking your head. luckily, you're home—so you grab another clean pair of panties from your dresser and slip them on, grumbling to yourself about how ridiculous he is.

you think that's the end of it. you really do. but then, over the next few days, you start to notice something… weird. for one, the black lace panties are nowhere to be found in your dirty laundry, even though you were sure he'd just been messing with you. and two, dean's been acting a little… off. not in a bad way! but in a way that makes your face flush whenever he looks at you. like he knows something you don't.

it's not until one night that you catch him red-handed. you're heading down the hallway, on your way to grab some water, when you spot him leaning against the wall, his back to you. at first, you don't think much of it—until you see what he's holding in his hand.

your fucking panties.

you stop dead in your tracks, your mouth falling open as you watch him lift them to his nose and take a deep, slow inhale, his eyes fluttering shut like he's savoring the scent.

"are you kidding me?" you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

he doesn't even flinch. instead, he turns to you, completely unabashedly, holding the panties up like a trophy. "nah," he says, smirking. "not kidding."

"dean," you groan, your voice low but stern as you stalk toward him. "you've kept those this whole time? what is wrong with you?"

"what's wrong with me?" he repeats, his grin widening as he tucks the panties into his back pocket like they belong there. "what’s wrong with you? you're the one who smells like that."

you gape at him, heat flushing down the back of your neck. "i don't even—what does that even mean?"

he steps closer, crowding into your space, and you can feel the heat rolling off him, thick and heavy. "it means, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, "that every time i get a whiff of these"—he pats his pocket—"i wanna fuck you all over again. so, yeah, i kept 'em. you got a problem with that?"

you're speechless, torn between being upset and… turned on. because of course you're turned on. he's DEAN WINCHESTER, and he's looking at you like he's seconds away from devouring you.

"you're insane," you manage, shaking your head.

"yeah?" he drawls, his hand curling around your waist. "well, you're about to be."

before you can respond, he's grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. you yelp, your palms against his back to steady yourself, but he doesn't even slow down, carrying you straight to the bedroom.

"dean! put me down!" you protest, but he just chuckles, slapping your ass hard enough to make you gasp.

"not a chance, baby," he says, tossing you onto the bed like a rag doll.

you barely have time to sit up before he's on you, yanking at your jeans with a single-minded determination that has your heart racing. "dean—"

"shut up," he growls, his voice dark and commanding as he strips you down, practically ripping your panties off in the process. "you've been walkin' around all day with this fuckin' scent, drivin' me insane. you think i'm just gonna let that slide?"

before you can answer, his mouth is on you, his tongue dragging through your folds like he's starved. he grips your thighs, holding you open as he devours you, his light stubble scratching against your sensitive skin.

"fuck," he groans, pulling back just enough to look at you, his lips glistening. "you taste good, babydoll. could do this for hours."

your head falls back against the bed, a moan slipping from your lips as he plunges back in, licking and sucking like he's on a mission. his grip tightens when you try to squirm away, his fingers digging into your thighs as he holds you in place.

"dean—mmm, fuck, shit—" you whimper, your hands tugging at his hair.

"you can do it," he growls against you, the vibrations making you shudder. "and you fuckin' will."

he doesn't stop, doesn't let up, and soon you're trembling beneath him, the pressure building low in your belly until it snaps, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

he doesn't pull away, even as you try to push at his shoulders, too sensitive to handle the way his tongue keeps teasing your clit. "oh, fuck! dean—s'too much—"

"nah," he mutters, his voice muffled against you. "not done yet."

and he means it. by the time he's finished with you, you're a wreck—sweaty, breathless, and completely at his mercy. he finally pulls back, his lips curled into a satisfied smirk as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"told you," he says, leaning down to kiss you, slow and filthy. "you're fuckin' addictive, sweetheart."

you're too exhausted to respond, but the look in his eyes tells you this isn't the last time he't pulling a stunt like this. and honestly? you don't really mind.

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artyandink · 1 month ago

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topgirl

We’ve all seen Dean’s demon form dominating humans, BUT WHAT IF HE WAS TOPPED BY A DEMON?

“Sugar, c’mon.” Dean groaned, his head tipping back against the headboard. Ugh, this felt so emasculating, your back against his chest, covers up, book in your hand— oh yeah, and his cock nestled inside of your pussy, unable to move because you wouldn’t let him.

You gently slapped his thigh, instantly stilling him and not even batting an eye — externally — as the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, absentmindedly flicking a page in your book. “Nope, baby, gotta stay still.”

Normally he’d be super smug when having a girl warm his cock, but right now he was frustrated, and mad, and god, it felt so good. Why did it feel so good doing this? Honestly, he got his rocks off on making girls scream and now this demon lady was making him feel like a fucking lamb.

“Fuckin’ hate you.” He murmured, eyes closing as he focused on how the walls of that pretty pussy were nestled around his cock at the right angle, the warmth making his stomach tingle and his nerve endings light on fire, his hands gripping your hips, feeling like a steel band and also a bomb ready to go off and make you scream with hard thrusts.

You raised an eyebrow, shifting slightly on purpose to elicit a groan from him, biting your lip to stifle a giggle— yeah, that really didn’t work out, you snickered anyway. “Awh, that’s cute, but we both know that ain’t true. You want this pussy.” Oh, yes, he did, and the way you purposefully squeezed him with your cunt only confirmed that.

A whimper escaped him. A whimper.

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special tags for my boos: @jasvtsc @deanswidow @beausling @titsout4nicholas @figthoughts

@deansbite

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thesilmarillionblog · 3 months 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 · 11 months ago

Text

✨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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thewritergx · 23 days ago

Text

Caught: Evil!Sam x Demon!FReader

Summary: Blood-drinking Sam Winchester chases you through the woods and fucks you to death (literally).

Warnings: Evil Sam x Demon F!Reader. Smut Containing: Knife/Gun play, running through the woods, NONCON, Anal, Size Kink, Blood drinking, Choking, Crying, Spanking, Forced Orgasms, Death of Reader at the end. Pet Names: Princess, Slut, Whore, Bitch.

Word Count: 3K

Do not read if you are sensitive to the warnings. This is very much a non-consensual interaction. I cannot say this any plainer, do not read this unless you're into some weirdo freak shit.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Please feel free to like and repost. Click here if you’d like more stories from me. Text divider from @cafekitsune.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, steps pounding at the wet dirt and grass. You weaved through trees, stepping over sticks and rocks. You couldn't stop. Stop and you are dead. Sam Winchester was hot on your trail, and if he caught you…You didn't even want to think about what could happen.

“Can’t run from me forever, little demon,” Sam yelled, his voice a good distance away.

Your chest was on fire after running for what felt like hours. Maybe you could take a break, his voice sounded pretty echoed. He must be far, you thought.

You leaned behind a tree, weight on your knees as you bent down trying to slow your panting breaths. You stayed quiet, trying to regain your composure when you heard a stick break a few feet away from you. Fuck.

How was he so fast?

You took off again, running deeper into the forest.

Sam knew he was close. He could fucking smell your blood. He listened for a while, hearing your quick steps as he chased you into the thickest part of the woods. He knew there would be no one out here. When he caught you, you would be powerless and all his to play with.

You tried to keep running, but you were so exhausted your pace involuntarily slowed with each passing minute. Fuck, you weren’t fast enough. He was going to catch you, you thought.

“Ah, there you are, princess,” Sam growled, watching as you ran right into his chest, hitting him like a brick wall.

You fell to the ground, hands landing on sharp sticks.

“Told you, you can't get away from me.” Sam raised his gun, shooting the ground next to you before you could try to run again. You gasp at the sound, the bullet landing a few inches from you.

“Stay down, bitch.” Sam walked closer, grabbing you and pushing you onto your knees.

“Sam, wait. Wait. Y-you don't have to do this”, you pleaded, fear filling your mind and body.

Sam hovered over you, his tall frame engulfing the moonlight. His eyes were dark, stoic in the night air. “I know. I don't have to do anything,” Sam huffed, his chest expanding with each breath. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him before throwing a hard punch on your face. Your ears rang and you hit the ground hard, your lip busted and bloody.

You tried to get up, tried to run but your vision was so blurry you couldn't stand. Sam dropped his gun before grabbing his knife, shoving you on the ground again.

“Ow, fuck you”, You spit, dirt on your lips as Sam slammed his fist into you again, your face landing hard in the soil.

Sam lowered himself, pushing himself over you as you lay helplessly on your stomach.

“Yeah, you’re about to,” Sam laughed, the smell of your blood thick on his mind. “Fucking slut”. Sam held the cold blade to your throat, watching as you wiggled under him, his thighs on either side of your legs.

“You know the best fucking part? No one will hear you, no one can save you.” Sam laughed. “You’re stuck out here with me, all mine to completely destroy and devour.”

“Don’t fucking move”, he growled, sliding the knife down your back. Sam lined the cold metal to the hem of your jacket, roughly cutting through it to expose your delicate skin.

“W-what are you doing”. Your voice was littered with fear, shaky as Sam placed a hand on your bare back, circling his thumb on the delicate skin.

You struggled under Sam, trying to buck your hips and legs as he pulled your arms back, forcing your jacket and shirt off you. The air was cold, and goosebumps formed on your skin.

"Cute little bar. Might keep it for later" Sam gently unhooked the clasp, folding it nicely before placing it safely on the ground.

“Stay fucking still or this is going to be a lot worse”, Sam breathed into your ear, biting at your skin. Your skin was on fire, wet dirt and leaves spreading on your tits and stomach. You tried to stay calm, tried to break away from his grip but Sam was double your size. You were completely powerless against him, the weight of his body easily pinning you down.

“Please,” you cried, the cold metal blade pressing against your back.

“Bet you taste so fucking good. Such a nice little vessel you're in.” Sam dragged the blade down your spine, cutting into your skin. “Wonder if she can feel this right now”.

“Stop! Get off me!” You screamed, hot blood running down your back.

“Usually, I would have killed you already”, Sam whispered into your back. “But God, this girl you're wearing, she looks so pure. So nice that I just can't stop myself from ruining her little body.” He leaned down, licking a thick stripe through your blood and sucking at the skin, cut open and dripping for him. “Think I’m gonna leave you alive a little while, fuck you til’ your blood runs dry”.

“No, no, no. Please, y-you can’t” Sam’s teeth dug into your skin, biting at the wound he had just created.

“Aw, is my little demon scared?” Sam smirked, blood spread across his face. He cut at you again, the knife on a sinister mission.

“Perfect,” Sam whispered, admiring the S.W., carved into your skin.

The foreign sound of a belt buckle unclicking echoed in the quiet woods. Sam became eerily quiet and mute as you continued to cry and plead for him to let you go. Sam shuffled over you, pulling the belt through his pants loops before dropping it next to you.

“Shh, play nice and I might just let you out of this at the end,” Sam whispers in your ear, lightly caressing your hair and kissing your neck.

You nod your head, finally accepting the situation you found yourself suffering in.

“Good. Good little whore.” Sam’s voice is now soft and relaxed. His hands travel to your ass, cupping your cheeks over your jeans. He scoots down, pulling himself off your body so he can rip the thick denim material down, leaving them bunched up under your knees.

Cold air strikes your now bare skin and you swallow hard, heart pounding harder than your earlier footsteps. His hands traveled to your waist, pulling you back on him and arching your ass off the ground.

“Look at those pretty panties,” Sam hisses, dragging the knife to your folds. “What’s this huh?” Sam’s jaw clenches and he presses the dull end of the blade in between your lips, pointing out the wet spot created by your dripping arousal. You feel him grab the thin material, ripping it off your body with his bare hands.

“You must like this, fucking dirty girl” Sam pulls you harder against him, grabbing your hands and placing them behind your back. You can’t help but rut against him, the large bulge in his pants pressing against your clit.

“I-I d-don’t. Please just let me go”. Tears stream down your face, your back stinging and leaves crunching with every movement you make.

“Why would I do that? You’re nothing”. Sam’s fingers work quickly, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. "Nothing, but my little cum dump".

Your breathing hitches as he pulls his jeans down, pulling his dick out.

“No! D-Don’t, please. Please don't put that in me.” You scream, kicking your feet as Sam grabs his dick. He snakes his hand under your waist, pulling you off the ground as he teases your clit, rubbing the head of his penis against your clit.

You clench your eyes shut and push your hands back, placing them against his stomach.

“Shut the fuck up. Move your goddamn hands before I fucking break them,” he growls, pressing the tip of his penis against your tight little hole.

“Pl-please,” you whine, quickly removing your hands and returning them to their previous position on your back. You feel Sam press against you and your eyes widen, the feeling of his thick tip already stretching you out. Fuck, he was huge.

“Oh fuck,” Sam presses against you, opening your legs wider as he sinks in deeper, bottoming out inside you completely.

“Stop, please”, you cry, tears streaming down your soft rosy cheeks.

“Aw, pretty girl doesn’t like my dick?” Sam laughed, quickly leaning down to wrap his thick fingers around your neck. He thrust into you, giving you no time to adjust to his size. “You may not, but I bet your vessel is loving this. Do you feel how wet she is? She’s already creaming my fucking dick, painting it all white.” Sam spoke through gritted teeth, each thrust landing hard on your cervix.

“Sam, p-please just l-let me go. I-I won't tell. I swear, I'll do-” Your eyes shoot open in fear as Sam squeezed around your throat, pressing so hard you couldn’t breathe in or out.

“S-s” You tried to speak, his grip growing tighter and tighter until you were seeing stars, all dizzy and the light in the room fading.

“Hey, no passing out on me,” Sam growled, quickly removing his hand. “How would I be able to hear those pretty cries if you're knocked out?”

You breathed heavily, coughing as he finally let go, his fingers leaving dark bruises behind. You try to calm down again, but the way he was thrusting into you was driving you crazy.

“Fuck!” you screamed, feeling that familiar tightening in your stomach.

“See, I know you fucking love this cock. Feel you tightening around me. You're about to cum, huh? Go ahead. Cum on my dick, you stupid fucking slut”, Sam leaned down, biting your neck so hard you felt him drawing blood. His sharp teeth pierced deeper into your skin, hot breath on your neck as he licked and sucked the open skin.

“Ahh, ow!” You scream, your voice echoing off the trees. You hated that he made cum, hated that you couldn't stop the pleasure forced through you.

“That’s a good little whore. Like when I fucking rape this cunt, huh?” Sam shoved himself deeper. “Say you fucking love it.” He yelled, slapping your ass hard.

“Fuck you,” You cried, voice filled with venom.

Sam grabbed the belt from your side, quickly slapping it hard against your asscheek. “I said, say you fucking love it”. He slapped you again, your skin screaming for help, bright red lines marking you.

“I-I l-love it,” you whispered into the ground, tears falling into your mouth, leaving behind a taste of salt.

“Louder. Like you fucking mean it,” Sam hissed, slapping the belt against you so hard it drew blood.

“Ow! Okay, I fucking love it! I love your huge dick fucking me,” You wailed, throat dry and voice hoarse from running.

“Such an obedient fuck slut.” Sam threw his head back, eyes clenched as he pulled comply out of you.

“Wonder if you’d like it that much…here” Sam pressed against your ass, your tight hole clenching as he shoved a thick finger inside. “I bet this vessel never got her ass fucked before.” Sam laughed, pumping his finger in and out, stretching you like you never had been before. “She’s fucking tight, huh.” He laughed, shoving another finger inside you.

“No, y-you can’t. It's too big”, you yelped, trying to pull yourself off the ground again.

“Stop”, Sam demanded, his tone littered with anger and hatred for you. He grabbed his gun, placing it against your temple as he lined his dick up with your ass.

“Stay fucking still and I won't shoot you,” The cold metal pressed against your skin hard. You trembled, your legs shaking and you swore you were going to throw up.

“Yes sir,” you nodded, forcing yourself to arch your back again, perfect position for him to sink inside you.

“Good”, Sam’s voice is plain, emotionless as he presses into your tight puckered hole.

“OW!” You yelp, his thick cock stretching you. Your skin burned and it felt like he was ripping into you.

“F-fuck” Sam slammed into you, your freshly used walls clenching around him so tight he almost couldn't move. “Yeah, this ass is all mine. Never had anything like me before,” he smirked, watching as his dick disappeared inside you, balls pressed against the soft fat of your ass.

He snapped his hips, a hard slapping sound echoing in the air. Your eyes rolled back, and the feeling of him pressing so deep, practically in your stomach, was too much. Fuck, it was torture but you craved more, your body easily opening from him to pump in and out of.

“Please, j-just take it o-out.” You were exhausted completely. Even at full strength, you would have never been able to fight him off. “P-please, Sam. Ju-just c-cum”. You begged and pleaded for him to finish.

Sam gripped the gun tighter, pressing it against you impossibly harder. He dragged it down your body, finger on the trigger. He thought about not shooting you, he really did. But he knew it would be so pretty watching you bleed out on the ground as he fucked you. So before he could think, before he could stop himself, he was pressing the trigger, a bullet ripping through your smooth skin and into your chest.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Your only thought about how stretched out and deep Sam was fucking you as you choked on your own blood. You couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the orgasm ripping through you as you bled out, your legs shaky and week.

“That’s it,” Sam growled, his hips spurting out of rhythm but still impossibly deep. “Dumb fuck toy, letting me do whatever I want to her”.

Sam huffed, throwing the gun on the ground and digging his fingers into your sides. He watched as your blood pooled, your choking sounds sending him into euphoria.

“Fuck” His grip tightened around you and he bit his bottom lips hard, thrusting deep and finally painting your walls white.

“Such a shame.” Sam laughed, pulling out of you roughly, his cum dripping from your stretched-out hole. “Could have kept you around, but what would be the fun with a slutted out whore?” Sam watched as you withered on the ground, blood smearing all over him as he leaned against your ear.

“You were a good little fuck, though. Don't get me wrong.” He whispered, pressing his fingers inside the whole left by the bullet, pushing through your skin with a squelching pain. He watched as blood soaked his fingers, quickly licking the hot liquid clean. “Hmm, should have fucked that whole,” he mumbled, before stabbing you with his demon blade.

Your eyes shot open and white light shined from your body, killing you and leaving your vessel in the woods.

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chevroletdean · 25 days ago

Text

Tainted — Chapter 3: Bruised Fruits & Rotten Cores

SUMMARY: Although they’ve brought Dean back to the bunker, the problem remains. His demonic side has taken over. Can they find a cure for the curse before things escalate?

SHIP: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (MOC!Dean x Reader, Demon!Dean x Reader) GENRE: Angst TO NOTE/WARNINGS: Season 10 spoilers, established relationship,angst, torture, needles and syringes, use of y/n (twice), cussing, violence, demon!dean being an asshole again, some suggestive remarks, mentions of cheating, poorly proofread by yours truly WORD COUNT: 4.8k A/N: Three things heavily inspired this chapter: Did you know that 10x03 is my favorite Supernatural episode? Jensen did a fantastic job directing it. You'll notice a pattern here, by which I roughly follow the plot of some of season 9's and season 10's episodes. Another thing is that one scene of Princess Mononoke, iykyk. Last but not least, the @jacklesversebingo challenge inspired this chapter, but honestly gave me the final push to write the whole fanfiction. PROMPT: The Blade of a Knife Glinting in the Moonlight CREDIT & LINKS: header & divider by me ──〃★ series masterlist ──〃★ jacklesverse masterlist

⏪PREV. CHAPTER ⏯️PLAYLIST

Who knew how blurry the lines between torment and salvation could get?

Watching Sam inject yet another dose of purified blood into his brother’s arm had her instinctively clutch her own. It felt as though she was the one being tortured, not Dean.

They’ve thought back and forth on what to do, and this was the best plan they could come up with.

Exorcising him was out of the question as Dean was technically not possessed. If a demonic entity were to leave his body, surely nothing but an empty corpse would be left behind. Plus, what vessel without the Mark of Cain could he even use, then, and what damages would that cause for him and the poor bastard he’d possess?

No, they had to turn the corrupted soul back into a human one.

Curing a demon, according to the lore, was possible, even though they had never completed an experiment like this. In theory, it could be done, though. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself as she observed the situation with increasing anxiety.

The mere sight of Dean in heavy chains, tied to an iron chair in the middle of a dungeon, surrounded by pentagrams and protective sigils all around, was enough to burden her with concern. The Latin incantations, the holy water, the purified blood — they were inflicting obvious pain on him.

At least to the demonic part of him.

It wasn’t easy to tell where the one version of Dean ended and the other began. If there was even any particle of the old, human Dean left.

She could barely look at the needle, let alone listen to Dean’s pained grunt.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?,” he sneered, the smirk on his lips taunting regardless of his labored, pained breathing. “Can’t even look at the damage you caused, huh?”

A low blow, but he was hitting where he knew it would hurt. She already felt like shit for making him go through this. She already felt responsible for even letting it go this far.

Mumbling a half-assed excuse in Sam’s direction, she made a beeline towards the exit. She slipped through the heavy iron door and into the hallway, where she wasn’t able to take a breath deep enough to soothe her frayed nerves.

There was more screaming coming from the room they had imprisoned Dean in and never before did she wish she could drown out a sound more than now.

There was no indication of how much time had passed. It could’ve ranged anywhere from a couple of minutes to a solid hour.

To her, everything felt like an eternity lately.

She had spent an eternity without Dean, another eternity tailing him, now barely 48 hours have passed since they finally caught him and her perception of time was still warped.

“Hey,” a familiar voice behind her startled her into a wince.

She turned to Sam, whom she gave an apologetic expression and a silent nod.

“Sorry for leaving you hanging just now,” she muttered, voice laced with the kind of exhaustion sleep couldn’t fix, “I couldn’t bear watching all of that.”

Sam, ever the patient and understanding one, gave a empathetic nod. Bless his kind soul.

She still saw herself as the culprit in all of this. Even if she hadn’t actively been the one to turn Dean into a demon, he had a point: She was a co-artist of this mess, yet too pathetic to own up properly. For Sam to treat her with such compassion, then, seemed unfair.

“I hear you, I need a break too,” Sam sighed, a similar fatigue etched into his demeanor. “Dean could use one as well.”

At that, she tensed visibly. Tight-lipped, she only managed a brief, but meek hum. They were all on edge, and while the pressure of it all definitely crushed Sam and her, this was still about Dean. Ultimately, he was the one subjected to all the pain.

“What if it won’t work?,” she asked, her fear-filled question barely intelligible with how breathless her voice was. “What if we just end up hurting him more?”

Sam placed a soothing hand on her shoulder, but nothing could console her entirely.

“I think we’re making progress,” he responded, though they both knew there was no way of truly telling that. “It’ll be done soon.”

Neither them nor anybody they knew had ever performed the curation of a demon. They tried it with Crowley before, but couldn’t go through with it. What if this was just another experiment prone to failure?

She remained silent at his side, neither knowing what to say nor having the motivation to find the right words for her concerns.

“Just a little more, right?,” Sam sighed insistently and emphasized his words with a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. “No need to push it. Let’s take a breath for now and grab something to eat. I’ll buy some takeout, wanna come with?”

Reluctantly, she shook her head. She had enough of feeling useless.

“Someone has to keep an eye on him,” she replied.

It was the least she could do.

“Will you be okay?,” Sam probed.

Biting her lower lip, she nodded and forced a crooked smile unto her face. Not that she was looking forward to the task, but at the same time it was something she wanted to do, something she needed to do.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

She walked alongside him towards the War Room on the pretext of reminding him what food to order for her. Of course Sam already knew everyone’s go-to burger toppings by heart. She was stalling. Any minute she did not have to spend in the Dungeon was valuable to her.

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yes, Sam, I promise,” she sighed. “I’ll call if I freak out, okay?”

While not entirely convinced, that seemed to reassure Sam just enough to head out.

A deafening silence befell the Bunker right away. It wasn’t any less crushing than the atmosphere in the Dungeon, so she steeled herself with a deep breath and decided to take the bull by the horns.

Each step down the stairs was more dreadful than the last, but she made her way back to that damned iron door, which she opened with as much confidence as she could muster. Within, Dean still sat tied to that chair, his expression a miraculous triad of bemusement, being pissed, and exhaustion.

“Came back all by yourself, sweetcheeks?,” he huffed and she could tell the effort it took him to curl his lips into a teasing smirk. “Where’d you leave Sasquatch?”

Purposefully ignoring his taunts, she ventured to the sink, grabbed the handtowel and held it under lukewarm water for a bit. While she could barely manage to look Dean in the eyes, she did approach the chair with a confident stride.

“How’re you feeling?,” she asked, the softness lacing her voice surprising even herself.

“Like I’m being cooked from the inside,” Dean rasped bitterly. He certainly looked the part, skin pale and sweat sticking to his forehead. The treatment was definitely an intense one. His blood must be boiling not only in the figurative sense.

Against her better judgement, she stepped inside the circle. Dangerous or not, she had to get closer to Dean somehow if she wanted to help him.

His sharp eyes did not leave her form, though she thought it to be a good sign that it was that familiar green she was met with instead of the jet-black.

It might be noteworthy to say that she wasn’t scared. Not of Dean, anyway. While the demon was definitely capable of hurting her, they had taken enough precautions. Plus, it was still Dean she was dealing with. Turned comically super-villain, maybe, but she trusted herself to know how to handle him either way.

She was worried, if anything, to mess up again. To harm him further. All she wanted was to help him.

Thus, her hand was steady as she placed it on Dean’s forehead. Even as his brows furrowed and he narrowed his eyes at her — both in confusion and annoyance — she didn’t falter. Just as she had guessed, he was burning up.

If only for a short moment, she felt him lean into the touch, as if the cool sensation of her skin against his was soothing. Even if Dean wanted to lash out like a caged animal, he was in no condition to fight back much currently.

She slowly withdrew her hand, replacing it with the damp towel instead to gently dab away at his skin. Her gaze wandered to the table Sam had set up, an arrangement of syringes, holy water, and cooling boxes filled with bags of purified blood sitting atop.

“Think you can handle another round?,” she asked, though she wasn’t exactly a huge fan of the idea. Just watching Sam do this had given her nausea earlier. Still, they couldn’t just give up now.

“Is that supposed to be a kinky question?” Dean’s quip lost half of its jeering nature due to the strain in his voice. “What’s next, you telling me you’ll be gentle before you jab that needle into me?”

At least he was still joking around at all. Bitterly so, but she preferred that over lethargy. She took his attempt at humor and jabs as him being in high enough spirits for another shot. The faster they’d get this over with, the better, right?

Dean’s eyes remained glued to her even as she assessed the equipment on the table.

“What’s this whole good-cop-bad-cop act for anyway?,” he scoffed. His fists clenched and unclenched, just the way his jaw locked repeatedly. “Fuck, what’s this whole cure bullshit for anyway?”

Her head spun towards him, bottom lip jutting out into a frown. Looking at her was like looking at a car crash, the view just stirred unwanted discomfort in him, but he couldn’t bring himself to peel his eyes away.

This whole procedure was seriously messing with his head.

“We’re just trying to help you, Dean,” she mumbled, sounding almost disappointed.

“I didn’t ask for any help,” he hissed harshly. His attempts of pulling away were, of course, for naught. The cuffs were on tight, metal and leather biting into his wrists and elbows. “How’re you so sure your savior complex will even work in your favor?”

He saw the twitch in her brow and he knew he was getting under her skin more than any needle could ever penetrate his.

“Sore topic?,” he huffed and tilted his head. “My bad, thought I might ask the doc about any side effects before she pumps more medicine into me.”

She wished she could say there were no side effects. But she saw the aftermath of this treatment right in front of her, didn’t she?

“You’ll be fine,” she grumbled more to herself, and hoping to make herself believe it too. It earned her nothing but a dismissive scoff from Dean.

“At least be honest with me here,” he quipped. “You haven’t got any goddamn clue what you’re doing. All you’re worried about is killing your precious loverboy, but honestly? That part’s long gone already, so whenever you’re ready with playing nurse, feel free to drop the cuffs and let me leave, before you make it worse than it already is.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly offended that this was all a game to him. To her, it was serious.

Syringe in one hand, flask with holy water in the other, she positioned the needle. Dean tensed visibly and he did try thrashing against his restraints, but temper tantrums were getting him nowhere.

“Son of a–!” Dean growled, face scrunching up in pain upon the liquid traversing through his veins. It was like a sizzle in his stream, a sharp sting flowing through his whole body.

What had her heart throb the most were snippets of the old Dean slipping through the cracks. While it should nurture the hope within her that he was not fully gone just yet, it filled her with dread to inflict this pain upon him all the same.

He inhaled sharply and groaned upon exhaling, glaring at her with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. Dean’s anger she knew to be fiery and burning. Demonic Dean’s was eerily icy in contrast.

“You’ll regret this when I get out of here and tear your pretty face off, princess,” he threatened, the tremor in his voice all due to raw fury.

It was then that her phone rang.

Dismissing Dean’s dagger-throwing glare, she withdrew from him and stepped outside to accept the call. Turns out, amidst all the chaos, she had forgotten to reach out to her friend about the case.

“Where the hell are you?,” they inquired, nearly shouted. “I thought you finished that job! Care to fill me in on why the fuck I just found out there were two more victims?”

“Shit,” she grumbled, pinching the bridge of her nose. As if there wasn’t enough going on already. “Something came up, I had to leave. I forgot to call you, I’m so sorry.”

“Damnit, Y/N! That ghost isn’t going to get rid of itself,” they argued in frustration. “Did you at least figure out where the guy’s buried?”

Glancing back towards the door for a moment, the huntress bit her lower lip. “No, he was cremated, but there’s that journal of his,” she mumbled, contemplating. “Give me a second, I’ll go over what I found and text you the details.”

Figuring it would only take two or three minutes, she hung up the call and scrambled back upstairs. The door to her room— her and Dean’s room, might as well have been a thick brick wall to her. With a creak, she opened it and stepped inside.

Immediately she was hit with a wave of emotion.

Since getting back to the Bunker, she hadn’t even unpacked that duffel bag. She had just thrown it near the bed and left it there to rot. The past couple of weeks her sole focus had been on finding and curing Dean.

She had barely been in this room, mostly staying up all night in the library or falling asleep there. Without Dean, these four walls were nothing but a prison for heartache inducing memories.

“Just three minutes,” she reminded herself as she flicked on the ceiling light.

A moon-shaped sphere-pendant from the kid’s section at Walmart.

She remembered Dean’s teasing smirk when she had pointed at it, but no matter how much he made fun of her for liking that childish thing, he installed it the very same day. Dean always went out of his way to make this sterile, dusty building feel like a home. Their home.

Without any windows in this underground hideout, she sometimes wondered how the Men of Letters had not spent their research days missing natural light. Not even a glimpse of a star? Despite her appreciating the security of the layout, that lamp was a must-have to reclaim some sense of freedom.

Later that same evening, even Dean had admitted that the different settings, which ranged from dimmed, warm white to bright, blue-ish hues had a soothing effect.

“So whenever I’m making out with my girl, there’ll be aliens watching now?,” Dean had joked back then, cheeky grin flashing across his face as the dork wiggled his eyebrows. Leave it to her boyfriend to venture from the romantic atmosphere of a full moon to silly jokes about conspiracy theories.

She had just rolled her eyes and snorted. “Sure, aliens,” was her bemused response, because Dean’s laughter in particular was always contageous. “We better give E.T. one hell of a show.”

Pushing aside memories of easier days, the hunter grabbed her bag and shuffled through it.

After tossing aside dirty clothes, one moldy apple so smushed it nearly fell apart, and various other junk, she finally pulled out a folder. As she flipped through the documents, she took pictures of her notes and sent them to her friend. Luckily, she had written down all the information necessary to put the ghost to rest.

Sending…

Since when were the messages loading this slowly? Squinting at her phone, she realized her connection was broken. Considering Charlie and Sam had spent a good amount of time modernizing the Bunker’s setup, this was definitely odd.

As if on cue, the glow of the moon was no more. In fact, every light, every electronic device, every buzzing noise was suddenly snuffed out.

Startled by the blackout, her heart sank.

The emergency power roared to life, painting the location in a deep, red glow of neon. She knew then this wasn’t just a system error — someone had locked all exits and entrances on purpose.

Few things could cause the Bunker to just shut down like that, all of which were someone’s intentional, manual doing. Unless Sam was back and feeling like pulling a prank on her today, it could’ve only been…

Swiftly, she fished for her bag again, pulling out an angel blade. The weapon was heavy in her clammy hand, threatening to slip from her grip. She hurried out of the room, back sliding across the wall as she scavenged the area.

“Tag, I’m It,” Dean’s sing-sang voice all but boomed through the hallway. “Here’s how it’s gonna go, sweetheart. I said I was gonna make ya regret all that nonsense down there. But, to be fair, I should say thanks. All the human blood just made the cuffs and the devil’s trap straight worthless.”

Along with his words, an unsettling scraping noise echoed off the grey walls. Whatever object Dean was holding, he made sure to let it ring and clank loudly whenever he tapped it against the stone.

She sure as hell didn’t want to find out what weapon he had picked out, but given that his heavy footsteps were too close for comfort, she didn’t know whether she had a say in that. Realizing she was practically moving in his direction, she stepped back quickly.

He was just rounding the corner when she made the quick decision to slip back into their bedroom and hide behind the door. Of course this, of all places, would be her deathtrap.

Praying he wouldn’t hear the noise, she locked the door from inside and held her breath. Her heart was beating up to her throat, a relentess thrumming that rattled her very bones. Her ears perked up at the slow thuds of footsteps outside, getting closer and closer.

“You wanna play dirty, sweetheart?”

His voice appeared right by the door.

And his steps stopped right in front of it.

Fuck.

“Fine,” he hummed. “Let’s play dirty.”

With that final warning, wooden splinters flew across the room. Suppressing her yelp did not secure her hiding spot. Dean took another swing at the door, slamming the hammer right through it and chipping away at the barrier piece by piece.

“Dean, you don’t wanna do this,” she pleaded as she leapt backwards, dodging the debris and holding up her blade. She backed up to the other side of the room, but she was still cornered.

His lips curled into a victorious grin, as dark and sinister as his eyes. “Oh, no, I definitely wanna do this.”

Before she could even think about an escape route, he kicked whatever was left of the door open and charged at her, leaving her to duck. Instead of striking her across the head, the hammer smashed right into the wall behind her.

Still, she was far from being in the clear. Dean as a hunter was a force to be reckoned with as is, but as a demon his strength was downright terrifying. His speed remained unmatched as he shoved her backwards and pinned her in place.

Déjà-vu.

Again, he had her right where he wanted her. Except she wasn’t so positive anyone could come and save the day this time around. Dean was smarter than to mistake her for a damsel in distress, but they both knew even with her skills she was walking on thin ice.

“Where did we leave off last time?,” he grinned. “Or should I just skip straight to the good part?”

By squirming under his grasp, she tested his grip, but he only tightened it further. One of his hands prevented her from using her weapon, the other firmly pushed her shoulder into the wall.

“See, even the old Dean definitely fantasized about this,” the man smirked.

That revelation shouldn’t have shocked her as much as it did. She knew the dark urges the Mark of Cain bestowed upon her boyfriend. But somehow, in her naïveté, she believed that she was not part of these twisted desires.

Not directly, anyway. He’d always speak of slaughtering monsters, sometimes just craving to sink a blade into anyone in general. Never did he specifically mention her involvement in these violent fantasies.

However, as hard of a pill that it was to swallow, it made sense.

The Mark wouldn’t distinguish between monsters to kill or humans to murder. And why should she be excluded? If anything, the more sinister the urge, the better for the curse, right? And what better way to drain Dean’s sanity — to drain his humanity — than by planting the idea of killing his beloved into his brain?

While she knew to not take it personal, it was still a horrifying, numbing thought.

Dean’s eyes were jet-black, yet she could tell that the direction of his gaze followed the movement of his hand. He trailed his palm down her collarbone. Down the valley of her breasts, where he splayed his fingers.

“Of course, goody-two-shoes Dean was too much of a damn coward to actually do it,” he went on bemusedly, his touch ghosting across her chest.

He could feel her pulse dancing just underneath his hand. The pitter-patter of her heart resembled that of a little, helpless rabbit. Struggling to stay alive. Kicking and screaming.

Prey trapped in a spider’s web.

He was milking it, savoring the taste of her shallow breath and the victory of her wide eyes.

“Upgraded Dean, though?” He paused to whistle briefly. “He wants to rip that pretty little heart out and take a nice bite of it while it’s still fresh and beating.”

“And they say romance is dead,” she scoffed through a tight throat and gritted teeth. “Is that how you flirt all the girls?”

“Still upset about the whole unfaithfulness thing?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s not the problem here, stop trying to deflect.”

“I think you’re the one deflecting, acting all tough and brave. C’mon, you can admit that you’re jealous. And scared.”

This fucking guy. He was unbelievable.

Of course he couldn’t just go through with his threats, he had to be insufferable about it. Playing into her guilt, poking and probing where he knew it would upset her.

She knew he was trying to make her angry. And of course it was working. Fueled by her rage, she twisted her arms and broke free from his grip with a sudden tug. All that hunting and training wasn’t just for show.

The demon definitely deserved that elbow to his face.

She popped him right in the nose, a cringeworthy cracking noise echoing off the walls. Even with his enhanced powers, the blow did stun him and he tipped his head back with an agonized grunt.

God, was that satisfying. All this pent up stress and his constant teasing.

“I spent months trying to find your sorry ass!”

Dean laughed, head falling forward again to reveal the crimson dripping down his nostril. In the bright red glow surrounding them, it almost looked black. The blood drizzled down to the curve of his lips and even partially stained his teeth that he flashed at her when he grinned.

“Sounds like a you problem, dollface. I didn’t ask for your help.”

Except he had. Why else had he begged her to make that stupid promise?

“You—”

She’s had it. Shoving him roughly, she pushed him off. Or rather, she jumped straight into him, sending them both tumbling to the floor.

Even though she was on top of him, straddling his waist, pointing the tip of the angel blade right to the hollow of his throat, did she really have the upper hand on him?

How could she call this a victory? This was not what she wanted. None of this. It was, for whatever reason, his wish, if anything. He was making her play right into his cards.

“Feisty as ever,” Dean smirked. If she didn’t know it any better, she’d almost say he was praising her proudly. “You know how much I enjoy you taking charge.”

Her grip on the weapon tightened. Even now he was letting glimpses of their past bleed through. Even positioned underneath her, knife to his throat, he acted like he had full control over the situation.

As if he was the victorious one. Like any of this was what he wanted. All of it.

“Why?” The tremor in her voice was obvious.

“It’s hot,” he shrugged for an answer.

“Shut up,” she scoffed. Clearly not what she was asking. “Why are you so desperately trying to make me do this?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Asking me to kill you, going behind my back to chase after Metatron, running away from me. Now this? Tricking me into stabbing you? Why are you trying so hard to make me give up on you?”

He remained silent underneath her, unmoving. Not even the smirk on his lips faded, though the mischevious spark of it no longer reached his eyes.

Suddenly, the power went back to normal. Sam’s alarmed voice rang through the hallway as he called out for both of them in panicked fashion.

The LEDs of the emergency lights faded, the glow in the room no longer an alarming red, but a dimmed, soft white. Their own little artificial moon, illuminating their homemade little world, shone down on the couple.

Dean tipped his chin back, as if arching further into the glint of her knife.

His patient eyes, emerald again, did not leave hers for even a second, still waiting for her to deliver that final blow. When her trembling hand threatened to pull away, Dean’s darted up to grasp her wrist and force the weapon closer to him.

“‘Cause I can’t move on until you do,” Dean spoke, calmer than she had heard him speak in forever.

Still, she shook her head, eyes softening.

“I promised you I wouldn’t,” she reminded him.

He scoffed, mouth twitching into what could only be described as a sad smile. “Not what I asked you to promise me, technically.”

“Since when do we get what we want?”

His jaw clenched and she watched the turmoil in his stormy eyes.

Hurried footsteps indicated Sam’s arrival, but finally, she had the situation under control.

“Y/N—”

She dismissed Sam by holding up her free hand, indicating for him to wait.

For once since this whole curse tainted their lives, she was finally able to get through to Dean.

“We’re so close, Dean,” she muttered. Even if they were miles away from the goal, she wouldn’t give up on him. But they were right at the finish line. “It’s working. The chains, the traps, you’re less and less demon. Let me help you. Please.”

Sam looked back and forth between her and his brother, briefly scanning their surroundings — a trashed door, a hammer sticking in the wall, blood smeared around Dean’s nose. Complete silence occupied the space and although instinct told him to intervene, he let her handle the situation.

Dean’s gaze wandered to the hand he was still holding, then back to her eyes. He let up on his grip, fingers now merely resting around hers, and parted his lips.

“Okay.”

Dean Winchester Taglist:

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impala-dreamer · 3 months 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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#spn fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #demon!dean #angst #dean x y/n

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super-marvel-dc · 9 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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crossroadsangel67 · 2 months ago

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🤍 MASTERLIST 🤍

DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU…

- are a minor (entire blog is 18+ and i will block you)

- ship w*ncest or any other form of inc3st

- hate gay people lol i’m gay as fuck

- are racist or sexist or just pretty much if you’re a jackass

- are gonna play around and steal my work, c’mon now

- are an asshole, you aren’t welcome here! <3

IN THE WORKS

- dom!dean fucking the reader over a pool table

- dbf!dean x reader

- reader sucking dean off + fingering him for the 1st time

- dean and the reader in the backseat of the impala

- dean taking the reader’s virginity (m!reader version)

ONE-SHOTS / DRABBLES

he’s desperate in bed, 18+ (dean winchester x reader)

somnophilia, 18+ (dean winchester x reader)

REQUESTS

getting out his anger, 18+ (dean winchester x reader)

taking your virginity, 18+ (dean winchester x f!reader)

AESTHETIC BOARDS

christmas as dean winchester’s lover

dean and castiel winchester, destiel day 2024

31 notes · View notes

cheynovak · 9 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 · 1 year 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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delulu4dean · 1 year ago

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“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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daughterofcain-67 · 1 year ago

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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!

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@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @johannelis2302nely @justtrying2getby-blog @alternativeprincess94 @doctorlexilouwhosblog @deangirl96

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