#demon dean x reader fanfiction

[ant0niepax]

Honestly I love how I upgraded from Wattpad to tumblr, less cringe but still cringe to keep it entering

[thesilmarillionblog]

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.

[artyandink]

lipstick, baby

Summary: Dean liked to indulge as a demon. On food, pie, women. To him, it’d just be him seducing every single girl that came by with a wink and a flash of his pretty smile, then they’d practically be spreading their legs for him. Then there’s you. There was something about you, that had him coming to you instead of you to him. He wasn’t really complaining.

TW: Drinking, Demon!Dean objectifying women but also being hot at the same time, badass reader, smut, mention of Sam, Crowley being a wingman, reader has a bone to pick with Heaven, reader’s a former hunter

STW: Riding, thigh slapping, ass slapping, tit slapping, whiskey play, temperature play if you squint, really filthy stuff, dirty talk, unprotected sex (do not try at home unless you are married and want kids), switch!Dean, switch!reader, marking (except Dean’s is marking with lipstick), uhh- mentioned dacryphilia?, degradation on both sides (use of slut, pussyslut), face sitting, fingering, slight exhibitionism?, praise kink if you squint, oral sex (m + f receiving)

Song Inspo: Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande

Whiskey every day really was the fine life, Dean mused as he finished his fifth glass of whiskey in the fifth bar he’d hit in three months.

Sam, of course, had been on the lookout for his location, but he never stayed in the same place for very long, which made him harder to find. It was fun, of course. Sex with women night after night, hearing them scream for him as he broke Crowley’s bed with no regrets. Anything to satisfy his high sex drive. Then he’d move onto a new one, and see them struggle to walk the next day. They’d shoot him a sultry, almost inviting look for him to fuck their legs out (they didn’t have much brains, so legs were the next best option), but he didn’t care. It was always a one use for him, not much more than that.

The bartender, a sweet piece of eye candy with long brunette hair, creamy mocha skin and a smile that told him all he wanted him to do to her, passed him a new glass with three fingers of whiskey, her fingers brushing his with promise of her getting on her knees and using her fingers and mouth on his cock.

Too bad, cause she did that a few days ago on her break, right before he blew her legs out.

The clearing of Crowley’s throat snapped him out of his inner monologue, having Dean glancing towards him on his right side. “Courtesy of the lady across the bar.” The former drawled, nodding across the bar counter.

Dean rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly and looking across the counter- god-holy-damn.

Your hair, your eyes, your lips. Those pretty things stretched into a smirk that could only be sultry as you nursed a whiskey, your scarlet lipstick leaving a print on the rim like the one he had on his napkin. It instantly sent thoughts of those prints on his chest and abs through his mind. Over his anti-possession tattoo. On his cock.

Dean wordlessly stood up, making his way slowly over to you. He took notice of everything. The corset bra underneath the red plaid that was left open. Ripped jeans that clearly had garters visible and the beginnings of sexy nylons visible.

Oh, he approved. He definitely approved.

“And who might you be, sweet thing?” Dean asked, voice low and panty-dropping and rough. He leaned his side against the counter, his eyes taking their sweet time in analysing every dip and curve of your body and imagining his hands on them. His own body burning as if your hands were already on him. Damn, that ring on your middle finger would feel so good.

“Said it on the napkin.” You replied, and then he nodded, checking it again. Ah, now he saw.

Dean offered you a smirk that was enough to make any other lady’s legs open wide, but yours didn’t. You just offered one back. “Pretty name.”

“Will I ever know yours, or will you remain the handsome, mysterious stranger who comes here every night?” Paired with a chuckle and a slow sip of whiskey right over the previous red print you’d left on the rim. Damn, you were good. Just the sound of your voice was enough to have him twitching in his jeans.

“Dean Winchester.” He drawled, his tongue tracing his teeth, hoping to sink them into your skin and mark you. A bit of a detriment to the enticing visual was the obvious mark of being a hunter. Dean could tell one of his former own. There was a silver knife in your boot. “And you’re a hunter, sweetheart. Here to kill me?”

The question had a scoff coming from your mouth. “Hunter? Baby, no, you got me all wrong. I’m not a hunter, especially after the dicks who call themselves angels have been makin’ good America into a clusterfuck. I doubt I’m gonna be happy with ‘em. This knife ain’t for you.”

The statement had a grin spreading on Dean’s face. You hated heaven, he liked that. You spoke your mind, he liked that. Your words rolled off your tongue, he liked that. He liked you. “Got a bone to pick with heaven, darlin’?”

“Less a bone, more an eyeball, but call it what you want.” You shot back with a sip of whiskey. Yeah, you were really good.

Dean’s hand found your hip, gripping it, his thumb pressing into your skin. “Can I call you what I want, baby girl?”

“You’re already doin’ that, Dean, I doubt there’s much more ground to cover where that’s concerned.”

“Damn straight.” He grinned, getting closer and closer. He felt your hand on his bicep, gripping firmly. Your hand on his shoulder, creeping up to thread your fingers in his hair. It all felt so… dizzying. “Tell me, what’s a fine piece like you doing in a bar like this?”

“Just passing through, seeing the sights.” Oh, dear Lord, now he could feel your breath on his. Dean was used to having control as a demon. “And now… I got another one on my list.” This time, it was like there was a rope and you were holding the other end of control instead of him holding both ends. Cause right now, all he could think about was how your thigh pressed in between his legs, grinding firmly against the bulge made by his rapidly-hardening cock.

The friction had a low groan rolling off his tongue, but it was sealed from the others in the room by your sweet, dizzying lips, your hand on his bicep sliding to his upper back and pressing him closer. By base, pure instinct, his hand on your hip pulled you closer, movements slow, calculating as you both shared your whiskey palette with every searing kiss.

Dean could take in your scent from the proximity. Earthy spices. Sharp perfume. The distinct musk of whiskey. All enough to make a normal man’s head spin. Made him want to add the sweet taste of your pussy to the menu.

And all at once, all too quickly, your lips left his, but burned a trail from his jaw to tease his earlobe with your teeth. “How about we ditch the party and go somewhere more comfy?” You murmured, your nails raking over the fabric of his shirt, over his chest. “Place is kinda dead anyway, and you seem like all kinds’a fun.”

“Mm.” He hummed in agreement, fumbling with his wallet and slapping a random amount of bills on the counter. “I’ve got a place.” Humming again, he grabbed a handful of your ass, rolling it before slapping it firmly. “Let’s go, darlin’. Now.”

“Fuck.” You stumbled back through the door to Crowley’s room, Dean’s lips attached to yours like you were his last dying breath. The room itself was a grand one, with a queen size, pieces of lux furniture and two beside tables, one of which having a bottle of whiskey on it.

One of his hands was tangled in your hair while the other was, like before, groping your ass, harsh breaths coming in bursts against your mouth. His scent of whiskey, beer and old leather mixed with yours, a cocktail of dizziness and heat and pure sex.

Dean was too preoccupied with the way your scarlet lips fell, smearing onto his own and then his skin, as you’d abandoned his lips to start laying your claim on his neck. And he wasn’t sure when his flannel and undershirt made it to the floor, but it did, and now he was bare chested and sporting red lipstick marks all over his chest, and the numbers were climbing.

He groaned, his hand tangling in your hair, reminded of his old self (however much he didn’t want to be, but now he wasn’t really complaining), his love then of being dominated by a woman and damn, was he enjoying it now.

Perhaps because it was you who was dominating in this moment.

Doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to revert back to his preferences.

Dean tugged your hair, baring your neck to him and allowing him to attach his lips to your neck, unclipping that godforsaken corset bra with a hum, finding your bare tits. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He murmured, reaching a hand up to roughly grope one of them, his mouth descending to one nipple and letting his mouth envelop it, sucking harshly and flicking his tongue over it, his index finger and thumb toying with the other in tandem with his tongue, pulling or pinching with each suck.

“Shit-” Your hand flew to his hair, arching into his touch with a low moan and a couple more expletives. The feeling was electrifying— cause damn, did this man know what he was doing. He switched his attentions, swirling his tongue around your other nipple before sucking over and over and over, wanting to draw as many sounds from you as possible-

Wait, why was he sucking on air suddenly?

Dean looked down to see you on your knees, undoing his belt buckle with a surprising amount of efficiency and popping the button on his jeans, pulling down the fly. They pooled my his feet, and he kicked them and his boxers off- holy shit.

You’d taken Dean’s cock into your mouth, the whole expanse, swirling your tongue like he did on your nipple and taking the whole length of him, right until he hit the back of your throat, relaxing your throat to avoid your gag reflex from kicking up.

Dean’s fingers twisted in your hair, a strangled groan leaving his mouth as his hips bucked into your mouth. “So good, baby girl.” He choked out, gritting his teeth. “So good with those pretty lips around my cock- son of a bitch.” As expected, the lipstick not transferred to his mouth and chest was now on his skin, and he didn’t mind one bit.

You pulled almost all the way off to suckle at his tip, a motion that had him jerking once and then twice once you took him back into your mouth with hollowed out cheeks.

“Keep that pussy wet for me, darlin’.” Dean grunted, his head tipping back. “Keep it as wet as that beautiful mouth.” And you obliged, your hand moving to undo your jeans’ fastenings, slip past rub and toy with your clit, your pussy already damp from his ministrations on you.

Your hand gripped his thigh, and with a few well-timed swirls of your mouth and assistance from your hand, he was spilling into your mouth with a drawn out moan of your name. It was like white hot sparks went through his system, but he recovered quickly, pulling you off his cock once you’d swallowed every last damn drop.

With a well-practiced move, he hoisted you to your feet and threw you over his shoulder, striding across the small distance between your previous position and the bed with a firm smack to your ass, throwing you down onto the bed. He licked his lips at the sight of you like that, practically collapsing down on top of you to press a searing kiss on a freckle that resided just above your belly button, yanking down your jeans in the progress as he then went on a mission to mark up the majority of your torso with his teeth.

Once he was done, he took a moment to admire the sexy constellation before stealing a kiss from you. Dean’s eyes landed on your garters and the skimpy little nylons you were sporting under the jeans, as well as the now ruined black lace panties that matched the corset bra he’d unclipped earlier. A grown bubbled up in his throat, followed by a gravelly chuckle.

“You really know how to get the attention of a guy like me, huh, sweet thing?” He murmured, sweeping a hand over his mouth and biting his lip, taking a moment to really appreciate the visual.

“I take more pride in what comes after.” You gave him a sexy smirk that had his cock throbbing. “It’s one thing to get attention, but I take more pride in keeping it.”

That got him nodding. “You sure can keep it, baby.” He worked off the garters and nylons, chucking them aside and hooking a finger into the hem of your panties. “Attached?”

“Do I look like I’m sewn to them?” A wink from you. Damn, he was hooked. Line and sinker.

“Touché.” He flicked his wrist, which tore the panties until they were beyond repair, dropping them somewhere else. His eyes locked on your soaked pussy, and fuck-shit-crap was it the most pretty thing he’d ever seen.

Within seconds, Dean had your legs over his shoulders, slapping your thighs and kneading them, using the grip on them to spread you open and run his tongue up your dripping cunt. The moment he got his taste, of the sweet, sweet ambrosia, something switched and he really began to work.

He felt your fingers thread in his hair again, your palm pressing him closer to you, and was he complaining? No. He could make a damn home right here. Right here, at your pretty fuckin’ pussy.

He’d fuck that pussy raw.

“F-Fuck, Dean!” You gasped, your thighs closing around his head, but he didn’t mind, lapping at you before licking up to your clit so he could suck at it. His fingers joined the party, slipping one in, then add one with no resistance whatsoever, with had him groaning against you and sending vibrations through your body that felt rather like electricity. Blinding electricity.

“That’s right, pretty thing.” He growled against your cunt, crooking his fingers before sucking on your clit again. “Show me how goddamn needy you are.”

You found yourself barrelling to the edge quicker than any other man had ever possible managed, and damn, did it feel good. Too good.

“Gonna-” You had to cut yourself off to gasp and let your eyes roll back when Dean curled his fingers and hit your g-spot, “gonna come-”

“Come for me, baby.” Dean encouraged, slapping your thigh firmly, kneading the flesh. To get you there, he traced his name out on your clit before sucking, which had you coming on his fingers and tongue, maximum voltage sparking your veins and hanging stars in front of your rolled eyes.

You felt Dean’s tongue lapping up everything you had to offer, all your come and he didn’t waste a drop. He sucked your arousal off his two fingers, licking his glistening lips and collecting the copious residue off his chin with his thumb, sucking that into his mouth with a look that could only be described as pure porn.

The sight of him - mussed up hair, naked, lips smeared with red, the same to his neck, chest and cock - was pure porn.

“More.” Was the only thing he said (growled, more like), and he flipped you over, practically manhandling you until you were kneeling on the bed. Straddling his face.

His hands took your hips and yanked you down, and he instantly licked a long stripe up your pussy, your hand flying to grip the headboard as you ground down onto his face, obscene sounds leaving your mouth but you didn’t care, really. All you cared about was the god of a man making you fall apart in record goddamn time with just his mouth.

Dean grabbed handfuls of your ass, slapping the softness and groaning into your cunt. This was honestly where his element was. Not hunting, not demonhood, no. He belonged with his tongue on your pussy.

His hands reached up to grope your tits, kitten-licking at your clit while his fingers tweaked your nipples, adding a dual level of stimulation that made you rock your hips faster.

Dean’s left hand reached down, swiping two fingers through your soaked pussy and lifted those to your mouth, and he chuckled. “Suck, sweet thing.” You took those fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself and feeling those two fingers that had previously worked magic on you in your mouth. The calloused pads pressing on your tongue. “That’s it. Such a slut for my mouth, huh?”

“Could call you a pussyslut then, hm, Dean?” You panted amid moans, running a hand through your sweaty hair. “Can’t get enough of it, can you?”

“Well played.” He growled, working faster, determined to get you over the edge. A few more licks, a couple more strokes and Dean did just that, his name rolling deliciously off your tongue as you came on his tongue for the second time. He drank all that up too, like a parched man in the Sahara.

Dean was normal used to sensitive, pliable women at this stage, but no, you shifted back and shoved him down when he was about to get up, making him fall back with a soft grunt, his head pressing into the pillows.

His hands gripped your hip and thigh by instinct, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin when you lifted yourself, sinking down onto his cock and taking all of him in one.

All of you was an expert at this.

“Fuck.” Both of you moaned in unison, his hands tightening on your hips while your nails raked down his chest, leaving red trails that instantly cleared up.

You couldn’t help but whimper, your hand gripping the your hair as you adjusted to how goddamn big he was. Out of all cocks you’d taken in your life, Dean fuckin’ Winchester took the cake. “So good.” You muttered absentmindedly, already feeling your pussy clenching and him buried all the way inside you, reaching places you didn’t know you had.

“Shit, sweet thing, you’re so tight.” Dean groaned out, and his hand left your hip to grab the bottle of whiskey, popping off the stopper with his thumb and chuckling. When he saw you not moving, he slapped your tit, hard, but somehow extremely sexy. “Move. Now.”

Now, had that been anyone else, you’d have tied their wrists to the headboard and edged them until they cried. But with Dean Winchester, well, you could risk relinquishing control for a second, or five.

You began moving- up and down, up and down at a dizzying pace, one that had your thoughts clouding as the side of his cock brushed against your g-spot. “Oh, fuck, baby.” You moaned, your mouth falling open. What was it with this man?

Dean took a sip of whiskey from the bottle, swallowing it and grunting roughly. “That’s it, pretty thing. Ride my cock. Bounce on it, attagirl. That’s a good girl.” You let out a whine in response, and an even louder one tumbling from your parted lips when you felt the cold sting of strong whiskey drip down from your chin, to your neck, over your tits and further down, poured by Dean from the bottle of whiskey that was then returned to its place on the bedside table.

He leaned forward, lapping up the whiskey from where he could reach, guiding your movements while his tongue flattened against your skin and licked stripes over your neck, your nipples, the swell of your tits and the valley between them.

“Y’look so good on me.” Dean growled, using his now purchase on your hips to bring you harder down onto his cock, watching it disappear into your pussy with gritted teeth. One hand left your hip, thumb finding your clit and once again tracing his name before moving into fast yet calculated, perfect circles, his lips adding to it by sucking more and more marks onto the skin of your neck and chest. Making sure you couldn’t cover them, not easily, at least.

“Y’look so good under me.” You shot back after a series of moans and whimpers and loud expletives, and he laughed deep and rough, hand finding the back of your head and bringing your lips against his, parting them, letting his teeth graze and tug at your bottom lip. His hand smoothed over the curve of your ass, gripping it for the nth time that night. Then, before he knew it, your pussy had clamped down on him like a vice, and you were over the edge, coming with a rolling of your eyes back into your head.

Dean gripped your chin, bringing you to look at him with hazy eyes as his name was ripped from your lungs, crying out and rendering you breathless as he then worked you down from the high, chasing his own by thrusting up into you.

Works two ways. You get to come down and he gets to come. Fair deal.

And the deal was fulfilled on both ends, cause while you had come down from your high with a delicious ache and/or satisfaction in your pussy, courtesy of Dean, he’d also got to come, spilling into you.

Thank God you took Plan B, even though it’s not 100 percent effective.

You lifted yourself off of him, rolling onto your back beside him as you both caught your breath. You’d sort of had an out of body experience, being treated to three intensely mind-blowing orgasms. And you’d always been the one to dominate. Not today, since a demon unexpectedly called Dean Winchester had proven you wrong with his gravelly voice and rough nature.

Damn, if you were a hunter, you’d be missing out on this religious experience.

“I’m assuming you’re the type to do a lady then go.” You breathed, running a hand through your sweaty hair while both of you adjusted the blankets on you at the exact same time.

“I don’t think that applies this time, princess.” Dean smirked, looking you over with an impressed undertone and an obvious blazing heat in his gaze. “Nah, definitely not this time. I’m keepin’ you, for a very long time.” He chuckled, biting his lip. “If you’ll allow me to keep you, darlin’.”

“Keep me, maybe not.” You winked, but then grinned. “But I’m definitely stayin’. Can’t just do you once and then leave it right there, can I?”

“Damn straight.” He chuckled, then rolled onto his side, cupping your cheek and thumbing your bottom lip. “Cause I’m still wonderin’ what else you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

TAGLIST: @goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero

@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii

@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

@gleefulleve @sacrosankta

@riteofpassage77 @eevvvaa @thedevilortheangel @thorsballhair @barbienotdoll

@4e1h3r @wolfieblue03 @kianaleani @vicky199625 @sassyslut2003

@impyrz @didisull @miwp @lastcallatrockysbar @rizlowwritessortof

@zepskies @angelbabyyy99 @autisticgothic

@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester

@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27

@lyarr24 @ximm19

@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

[wayward-dreamer]

Playing With Fate

Square/s filled: "You need to get your strength back" @anyfandomkinkbingo (quote in bold) |

Pairing: Demon!Dean x F!Reader

Word count: 3,545

Summary: Y/N offers to help with the search for Dean after he becomes a demon and leaves the bunker. Her plan doesn't go the way she intended, but that didn't mean it wasn't a desired outcome.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, smut: dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), vaginal fingering, hair pulling, choking, spanking, dacryphilia, degradation, dubcon, rough sex, mirror sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), squirting, I think that's it, but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Please blame the s10 rewatch I was in the middle of for this. I take no responsibility for the level of horny everyone's going to be after this lmao... Also, I've done things a little differently with this one, so I hope y'all enjoy! As always thanks to my loves @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean for betaing this. Don't know where I'd be without either of you <3

What the fuck am I doing?

That was the first thought that entered Y/N’s mind, but it was fleeting, disappearing as she looked up at Dean from her submissive position on her knees, her mouth wrapped tight around his thick girth as her hands pressed into the muscle of his bare thighs. His gaze was intense, green orbs that occasionally gave way to solid black, something she had never anticipated would arouse her the way it had from the first moment he revealed them to her. He caressed her hollowed cheeks with his thumb, his other hand in her hair as her head bobbed back and forth, taking his length deep into her throat. It soon wasn’t enough for him, his grip tightening in her strands as he held her still, his pelvis smacking vigorously against her. Saliva dripped in long strings around her mouth as he chuckled, relishing in the way she choked and gagged around him, the glugging of her throat adding to the pleasurable cacophony that reached his ears.

Tears pricked her eyes as she moaned and spluttered around his shaft, her own thighs squeezing together to keep her arousal at bay for a moment. He noticed the way she squirmed, the way her flesh pressed tightly, the signs of her need obvious to him. He drew back from her throat, a harsh gasp leaving as her lungs burned, her chest heaving as she sucked in air and met his gaze.

“Spread your legs, sweetheart,” he ordered, grinning as he wiped her saliva around her lips. “Want that pussy of yours as wet as your mouth, got it?”

“Y-Yes,” she stuttered, nodding weakly.

“Yes what?” he growled, tugging at the roots of her hair and making her whimper.

“Yes sir,” she added, staring up at him.

The smirk never left his face as he thrusted into her waiting mouth once more. Following his instruction and opening her legs, her fingers moving between them and finding her clit already lightly covered in her wetness. She moaned wantonly as she circled the swollen nub, her eyes fluttering with the euphoria that coursed through her. Not only at the feeling of her hand between her legs, but at the way he was using her, and the shame of willingly letting him fading away with every plunge of his cock into her throat.

This hadn’t been the plan when she first found him. Far from it, in fact.

When Sam had called her with the location of the bar Dean had been frequenting, she had full intention of stepping in and setting him straight. He had warned her about Dean being a demon now, something that had happened several weeks before and which she chastised him for not telling her sooner. She could’ve helped and maybe with their “geek brains” together, as the elder Winchester liked to call them, they could’ve found him sooner. She wished she had known; her and Dean were friends, and she hated the fact that she hadn’t been there for him.

Friends were supposed to look out for each other. Especially those types of friends that were sometimes, on occasion, more than that.

Nevertheless, Sam said he would join her but she insisted on doing this alone, not listening to his protests and telling him to call her back once he had found Dean’s whereabouts.

When Y/N walked into that dive and took a seat at the bar, her eyes immediately found him. There he sat, at a table in the middle of the room, whiskey tumbler in hand. He didn’t look any different to the normal Dean she knew, not even when a blonde waitress came over to him and handed him another glass, draping her arm across his broad shoulders. She shrugged it off, now wasn’t the time to get jealous. She ordered herself a whiskey too, taking it and facing the room, crossing one leg over the other which allowed her denim skirt to ride up her thigh. That along with a tight, black tank top and black heeled ankle boots were her attire for the night; completely different to the usual hunter gear she’d be wearing but she needed something to catch his eye.

And sure enough, it did.

Dean had always had a higher level of awareness thanks to being a hunter, but after becoming a demon it had become a sixth sense. A familiar energy caught his attention as soon as it stepped into the room, his head lifting up to meet Y/N’s eyes as she stared back at him. He hadn’t seen her for a while, and if she was here that meant Sam had gotten to her. He had the initial thought of sending her on her way as he stood up, but as he made his way over to her, caught the way her thighs pressed together where they were crossed, he knew he could have some fun with her.

A grin pulled at his face as he gazed down at her, seeing her perfect mouth taking his intimidating length with each thrust, and he was glad that he had been right. It had been a long time since they had been together like this, and it was clear that he hadn’t taken advantage of their situation as often as he should have from the way she was working her tongue around him. She was unmistakably desperate to please him, to be with him in any way possible, even if he did have a new set of black eyes.

He had no problem exploiting that fact.

“Look so good choking on my cock, baby,” he groaned, holding her down against his pelvis.

His hand tightened in her hair once more and pulled her off his cock again, a dark chuckle escaping him as he heard her shuddering breath. Saliva hung off the edge of her chin, dripping onto the swell of her breasts, her eyes wide as she waited obediently for whatever he had planned for her next.

“Stand in front of the mirror,” he instructed, glancing up at the corner of the room before looking back at her. “Want you to see yourself losing control while I fuck you.”

Y/N somehow found the strength to stand from her position on the floor, the burning in her limbs only adding to the fire that was rising within her with each staggered step towards the mirror. Her appearance reflecting back to her was already a mess; her hair tangled in certain places, saliva drying and hardening at the edges of her mouth. As she spread her legs and curled her hands on either side of the frame, Dean stepped up behind her, calloused fingers sliding down the smooth skin of her back. Their eyes briefly met in the mirror before his gaze shifted down, following the movement of his hands as they admired the curve of her ass, a groan escaping him as his thumb grazed her puckered hole down to the sticky, wet warmth of her folds. She gasped as she felt the thick digit slide back and forth, no doubt wetting his skin as her arousal grew and dripped from her sex.

“So fucking wet,” he muttered, more to himself than to her, but he finally left his eyes and addressed her again. “Ready to take my cock, aren’t ya?”

Her lack of response earned her a heavy hand against the flesh of her ass, causing a yelp to escape her. Her eyes widened as they made contact with his, narrowed and glaring at her through the mirror. He had barely done anything to her and she was already overwhelmed by his actions. Her mind was caught somewhere between not knowing how much more she could take, and wanting to take everything he had to give. Now that he was a demon, she had no idea how much that was, but she was more than willing to find out.

His hand came down twice more in quick succession, making her jolt forward as she shrieked. The sting was intense but delicious as the sensation spread through her whole body, and she knew this was only the beginning.

“You better be fucking ready for me, sweetheart. ‘Cause I ain’t holding back.”

The implication of his words was clear. He wasn’t the Dean she knew anymore, and she shouldn’t expect him to be.

A brief nod was all she could muster as an answer to his earlier question, and that was all he needed. He brought his thumb to his mouth, glistening with her wetness as his plump lips wrapped around it. He kept his gaze on the reflection in front of him, their eyes locked as she breathed heavily, a groan leaving him as he sucked at the digit and took hold of his shaft, rubbing it through her folds. It wasn’t the first time she had seen him do that; taste her off his fingers,  but it hit differently now.

Before she could register what was happening, he lined himself to her entrance and slammed into her, her walls sheathing his thickness completely as a ragged moan fell from her lips.

The sound was a harsh contrast to the soft whimper that she had tried to suppress when he sat down in front of her at the bar, flagging down the bartender and ordering himself another whiskey. He turned to her, his eyes taking her in as they roamed down her frame, an eyebrow lifting in approval at her low cut top and the way her skirt had ridden up slightly, exposing more of her thigh as she sat.

“Didn’t think Sammy would send someone else to do his job,” he started, sipping his whiskey once it was in front of him. “Guess he’s losing practice without me, huh?”

“He didn’t send me,” she clarified, trying to remain firm in his presence. “And there’s a quick fix for that. Just come home.”

He scoffed, chuckling as he dropped his head and shook it. “No fucking way.”

The bite and careless lilt of his laugh and words stung, but she couldn’t dwell on it.

“Dean, this isn’t you,” she reasoned.

“Oh, but it is, Y/N,” he countered, as he turned on the bar stool and leaned his forearms back on the bar, his eyes never leaving her. “It’s the new me.”

Green irises flashed to solid black, holding her gaze long enough for a fear she had never experienced before to run down her back. Along with another strange yet familiar feeling between her legs. Strange because this wasn’t the time or place for it. As his eyes quickly returned to normal, Y/N’s jaw clenched as she stared up at him.

“Dean, look, you don’t have any options here,” she stated, pushing her drink aside and reaching into the left pocket of her denim skirt. “You’re coming with me back to the bunker, and Sam’s gonna get to work on curing you. End of discussion.”

Dean sipped his drink as he watched her take out a pair of silver handcuffs, devil’s traps carved into them. He slowly placed his drink down as he smirked, his gaze shifting from them up to her. “I think those are gonna look better on you tonight, sweetheart.”

She rolled her eyes, but she knew they weren’t as effective as usual. He was getting under her skin and they both knew it. From her other pocket, she pulled out the top of a flask as she stared up at him, waiting for him to look back at her as he glanced down.

“Don’t make this harder-” she started but his sinister scoff stopped her.

His green eyes, that once held so much admiration for her, were now void of any kind of emotion as he finally looked at her. Slowly, the shift almost imperceptible, his face hovered an inch away from hers.  “I thought you liked it hard, Y/N. Hard… fast… so rough you wanna feel that ache between your legs for days.”

A shuddered exhale fell from her lips, one she hadn’t realized she had been holding, causing him to chuckle.

“So how ‘bout you stop wastin’ your breath on this back and forth,” he continued, gesturing between them as a smirk spread across his face. “And admit that you’re real curious to know what it’s like to get fucked by a demon.”

Their gazes remained locked as he tested the waters; tested whether temptation would coax her into letting him corrupt her for no other reason than pleasurable amusement. He saw the way fear, guilt and thirst circled in the depths of her eyes, and he hoped it was the last of those that would win.

As Dean peered into those eyes once again, through the mirror’s reflection, he saw all of those things give way to euphoria as he pounded deep into the tight heat between her thighs.

Y/N barely recognized the face staring back at her. Hooded eyes, her mouth agape as a string of erotic noises escaped her with every slap of his hips against the curve of her ass. He had been right. She did enjoy sex when it was harder, faster, so rough that she felt the constant throb at the apex of her thighs. The Dean she knew was well aware of that fact, and this Dean, this… twisted version of him was using that to his full advantage. She wasn’t sure if she was willingly letting him, or if he was coercing her into this sinful act, but it was bliss.

A heavy hand slid up her back and into the strands of her hair, pulling harshly as his sweat slicked chest pressed up against her. His breath fanned over her ear and cheek as they stared at each other. A loud, lustful cry erupted from between her lips as the head of his cock drove deeper into her at this new angle, reaching places within her that hadn’t been explored in a long time. A tear brimmed at the corner of her waterline, rolling down slowly as another followed from the other, her thoughts as overwhelmed as her body by everything she was feeling. He laughed in her ear, the sound wicked as it rumbled from his chest against her back, watching the tears make tracks on her face.

Dean leaned down, the tip of his tongue slipping out between his pouty lips and dragging over the skin, the tang against his taste buds making him groan. Her eyes widened in disbelief, but her core tightened within arousal from the act.

“So fucking hot seeing you like this,” he whispered against her ear. “Just mine to use. You can’t lie to me, Y/N. I can see it in your eyes, can feel it from the way you’re squeezing around me. You love my cock inside this tight, little pussy. You don’t care anymore that I’m a demon, do ya?”

Y/N couldn’t remember the words she had spoken in agreement to leave the bar with him. All she could remember was his hands on her hips, pushing her up against the brick wall, rough lips fused to hers as his thumbs played at the strip of skin exposed between her top and her skirt. All she could recall was the way his fingers slipped under the hem, making her breath hitch as they danced over the flesh of her inner thigh and pulled her thong aside, moving between her folds.

He smirked into the kiss, pulling away and looking deep into her eyes. “So wet already, sweetheart. My black eyes got somethin’ to do with this?”

“No,” she whimpered, trying to remain defiant but she was flailing.

The amused grin he had given her in response then matched the way he was staring back at her through the mirror at that moment.

“N-no,” she moaned, a small smile playing on her lips. “I don’t care anymore…”

Her words had somehow emboldened the pace of his thrusts, the scream silenced in her throat as his calloused fingers wrapped over it tight, his other hand groping at her breasts as he slammed into her. Her own hands struggled to hold herself steady against the mirror, the frame shaking from the brutal force of his hips smacking against her. Her walls clenched around his girth, causing sounds only akin to a feral animal to come from him right against the shell of her ear. Along with the loud squelch between her legs and her own choked moans, she knew it wouldn’t be much longer before she fell over the edge into the deepest depths of hell with him.

No matter how heavenly it felt to have him inside her, she knew she was headed for the fiery pit for what she was doing. It was debauchery at its finest, and yet she couldn’t care less.

Y/N wasn’t sure when it happened. Maybe it was the short walk from the bar across the street to the motel, maybe it was when they stepped through the door, or when they stripped each other of their clothes as their kiss became as heated as their frenzied touches. Maybe it was when she fell to her knees in front of him and wondered what the fuck she was doing, allowing a demon, something she hunted on a regular basis, to invade her every thought and sensation. Even if it was a man she knew very well, it had been wrong.

But it had also never felt so right.

The familiar pull in her core had her eyes squeeze shut, but a tug from Dean’s hand in her hair had them opening again. He made her watch their sinful actions in the mirror once more, as he felt her walls like vice around him.

“Such a good slut just for me,” he groaned, nipping her earlobe. “You’re all mine now, right?”

The lewd moan that escaped her wasn’t enough of an answer for him, as his hand cracked against the globe of her ass, causing her to shriek.

“Tell me,” he growled.

“I-I’m yours,” she finally replied, her voice sounding like a stranger’s from how hoarse it was.

“Damn right,” he grunted.

Her eyes rolled back as her air was still cut off by his heavy grip on her throat, but suddenly it dropped to grip her hips tightly with both hands, as his own began to falter with each frantic thrust. Her lungs burned as short breaths left her, moans turning into loud cries of his name as she reached that euphoric peak, her body convulsing as a stream of liquid gushed down her thigh, pushing his cock out as her wetness spurted against the mirror and dripped onto the carpeted floor. Her chest heaved as she breathed harshly, her vision blurred and unable to focus.

Dean took hold of his shaft, slicked up by her release and pumped his hand back and forth, expletives and groans falling from his parted lips as his cock pulsed in his grip. With one last tug, the veins in his neck strained as he let out a strangled grunt, his eyes flashing to solid black as ropes of his release shot over the small of her back. He grinned as he looked at her with those demon eyes she had found herself aroused by, and she smiled back slightly.

This was definitely not how tonight was supposed to go.

“Fuck, that was hot,” he muttered, grabbing her by her shoulders to steady her.

“Yeah,” was all she managed to push past her heavy breaths as she came down from her high.

“Well, I’m good to go again, but,” he smirked as his eyes flashed back to green irises. “You need to get your strength back.”

Y/N was taken aback by the concern, but she knew better than to assume it was for any other reason than needing her recharged for another round. He moved away from her, but not before smacking her ass once more as he walked away. She stumbled to the edge of the bed, still able to see herself in the mirror, her hand admiring the scratches and bruises forming along her skin. With a strangely content sigh, she fell back against the bed, unbothered by his cum sticking between her and the sheets underneath. She glanced to the side as he sat down next to her, his hand roaming over her body, fingers flicking over her nipple, making her moan softly.

“Take five, sweetheart, ‘cause I ain’t done with you yet.”

She bit her lip as she looked away from him, staring up at the ceiling. She heard a small buzz from her phone in the pocket of skirt, but made no move to search for it on the floor. It was no doubt Sam, texting for an update on how things were going. This was definitely a unique way of laying a trap, certainly not one she was planning, but at least this way Dean would never suspect that she had him right where she wanted him this whole time.

She’d let Sam know where she was eventually. She just wanted to enjoy playing with her own fate a little more.

[topofmythighs]

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."

[sweetcocopowder]

Could i have a demon dean fic with the prompts "Are you afraid of me?" And "Take it off" with a male reader please

Prompt 6 | Crossroads Demon!Dean x Male! Reader

Synopsis: You finally bring yourself to summon a crossroads demon to strike a deal. But you quickly find out that this crossroads demon does things a lil differently to seal a deal.

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Smut. Tongue fucking. Size kink. Dean's a big boy. Reader's short. Praise. If i miss anything, please tell me. It's late at night.

Notes: I am so sorry that this took forever to post. This is probably the longest fic for the Milestone. I wanted to get it right since these types of prompts take me forever to write. But, I hope your enjoy hehe

You can’t get your breathing under control. It comes short and shallow that it makes your head dizzy and light. It actually worked. The ritual actually worked. You stumble backwards, your feet catching against each other on the loose gravel as you fall on your ass. So much for first impressions.

The demon stands tall in the middle of the crossroads clad in a pitch black suit. He sweeps a hand through his blonde hair, trying to tame it but some strands still fall over his freckled face. His black eyes scan over his surroundings before they flicker to an intoxicating green. They set upon you, a frown forming deep upon his features.

“You’re a little pipsqueak now aren’t you,” the crossroad’s demon comments.

At that, you’re quick to your feet, dusting yourself off as thoroughly as you can. You puff out your chest and square your shoulders, because you’re in charge. You’re the one that summoned this demon. You’re the one making the deal. How dare he call you that when you’re the only offering him something in return.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap at him, but your voice comes out cracked.

The demon chuckles, a set of fangs showing from behind his lips. He walks towards you, and you quickly realize just how much taller he is than you. You’re short for a man, only coming up to a 5’5. And standing next to someone over 6 feet is always something.

“I can call you whatever I damn well please,” the demon snaps.

You flinch slightly, brows furrowing in anger at the mouth on this hellish creature. He may not have any horns. Or no tail. Or any hooves in those dress shoes he wears. But he sure as hell smells like a demon. Sulphur at its finest.

“I’m here to make a deal,” you get back onto topic, the reason why you even summoned him here in the first place.

The demon rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. I know why you’re here. Didn’t summon me for a chit chat now did you?”

He pinches your chin between his thumb and pointer, inspecting you. He moves your head back and forth, looking over every inch of you. You swat his hand away at the feeling of your cheeks flushing something hot.

“Is it money you want? You want your girlfriend to love you? Want a promotion at your job you’ve been stuck in for eight years? Or want your boss dead?” The demon lists off on his clawed fingers.

“What!? No!” You bark out.

“A new car? Your partner to be pregnant?” The demon asks a few more things. “I can do that myself if you want. If you’re the one shooting blanks then you’ve come to the right person. Probably the straightest and strongest shooter you’ve met!” He chuckles loudly.

“No! What are you going on about?”

The demon laughs harder, the noise seeming loud out in the open, deserted road. “Then what is it you want, pipsqueak?”

You ignore the comment. “I want to be six foot tall,” you answer with as much confidence as you can muster.

The demon goes silent. He stares at you with wide eyes, as if you’re pulling his demonic leg. But when you stand there in silence, not speaking a punch line, it settles into the demon that you aren’t joking.

As much as you’d like to be joking, you’re not. You’re sick and tired of people belittling you because of how short you are. Treating you like a child even though you’re a grown ass man. It’s humiliating at some points. And this demon is just showing you that it’s all true.

How will you explain it when you come back to your boring office job six feet tall? You’ll get to that afterwards.

“So,” the demon clears his throat. “You want to sell you soul to be six feet tall? Am I correct?” He asks bluntly, gesturing his hands around as he speaks.

You nod with a, “Yes.”

The demon pops a hip out with a hand placed over it. You watch the motion before dragging your eyes back up. You’d be a fool to admit the demon before you isn’t hot. You wonder if this is what he looked like before he became a demon. How does becoming a demon even work?

The demon shrugs. “Well I guess I know people that have done worse.” He sighs. “Do you know how a crossroads deal is made?” The demon asks with a cocked eyebrow. He makes his way towards you again, reaching out and patting down your tie.

“Yes. A kiss to seal to deal,” you say with confidence.

Just a simple kiss.

“I do things differently,” he says as he hooks a finger into the tie.  

“What?” You utter out weakly before you can control yourself.

With the smell of burning fabric, the fabric touching the demon’s finger burns a neat line. It falls off, flopping to the ground. His green eyes land on you and you find yourself unable to speak. A hand hooks into your belt and you stiffen up greatly, your face burning a bright red once again.

“My deals are struck a lil’ more intimately. A little more hands on,” the demon grins, his lips only mere inches away from yours.

You can smell the demon better than before now. The smell of sulphur still lingers, but there’s something else that lingers. Something much sweeter. It’s not a pleasant combination of smells though. But what else did you expect a demon to smell like. Rainbows and unicorns?

But you know what the demon is talking about. You summoned a cross roads demon. Not a fucking succubus.

Yet at the same time, you don’t want to have to do the entire ritual again just to get an ugly demon. It would be a shame to pass up on an opportunity like this. Yes? Maybe you are a little messed up in the head. But those green, green eyes. You can’t seem to look away from them.

“Do you still want to be six foot tall?” The demon all but growls out right in your ear.

You swallow thickly. What harm could getting fucked by a demon to be a little bit taller do? You’re just selling your soul.

“Y-yes,” you utter out.

The grin that spreads across the demon’s face is devious. “Are you afraid of me?” He asks, his voice low and even.

It goes straight to your crotch though. You’ve never had anyone come onto you like this but you’re quickly realizing you might be more into it than you may have first realized. You swallow thickly, not being able to look away from the demon’s piercing gaze.

“No,” you squeak out.

The crossroads demon takes a large step away from you with a hearty laugh spilling from his lips. You’re confused. You can’t help but stand there dumbstruck at the sudden change. With the demon’s back turned, you quickly adjust yourself in your suit pants. Don’t tell yourself that he was joking?

The demon turns back around to you, his eyes looking you up and down as if you’re a piece of meat. You can’t help but step from one foot to the other under the watchful, dark gaze.

“Take it off,” the demon suddenly says.

“W-what?” You utter.

“I said,” the demon makes his way back towards you, placing a finger on your chest. “Take this fucking suit off or otherwise you’ll be walking home in nothing but your birthday suit.”

Oh. Oh. Oh my lord. You can feel yourself become as bright as a tomato and yet, you follow the command instantly. You begin stripping, starting with your coat and button up, then to kicking off your shoes. With only a split second of hesitant, you take off your suit pants and hesitate at your underwear. You look to the demon before you who only cocks an eyebrow your way. You swallow thickly again, butterflies coming to your chest as you strip everything. You cover yourself subconsciously with your hands in front of yourself, trying to hide your bulge.

You flinch at the warm hand splayed across your chest suddenly. You can’t drag your eyes away from the crossroads demon. He licks his lips in anticipation, liking what he sees before him.

His hand glides up your neck to the back of your hair, gripping in to tug your face upwards to him. He’s so much taller than you it’s almost intoxicating. You’re almost standing on your toes as he comes down for a kiss, capturing your lips with teeth and tongue. You can’t help but moan into the kiss as the demon grabs onto your sides tightly. His sharp nails dig into your soft skin causing a harsh shiver to run down your naked back.

The demon pulls away, looking down at you with devious green eyes. A string of saliva connects your flush lips to his and all you find yourself doing is staring.

“Now,” the demon purrs, “Did you want to take this on the hard gravel or do you want to try and stand and take it?” He asks lowly.

You swallow thickly, thinking it over. The thought of your back or stomach getting scuffed up doesn’t sound all that pleasant in your eyes.

“I’ll be alright standing,” you say, a slight shake in your voice.

The demon shrugs with a cocky expression on his face. “Alright,” he mumbles, “It’s your deal.”

He then drop to his knees in the loose gravel, his eyes never leaving yours. He grabs onto your thighs and spins you around. Definitely not the direction you thought this was heading, but you don’t complain otherwise. You can’t help the shaky exhale that leaves your lips at the sudden direction this is turning. This is not what you thought would be happening tonight, but you can’t remember the last time you were properly laid. So may as well take this as it is.

Large hands spread your cheeks open and you suddenly feel very, very exposed. You try and hold back the whimper that tries to escapes your throat as hot breath touches your skin. You bite down on your knuckles as you bend over just a little, giving the demon a better look.

“I’m gonna loosen you up a bit,” you hear the grin on the demon’s voice, his face buried under you. “Don’t want this to be unpleasant is all. May be a demon but I’m not a monster.”

“Who would hav- AH!”

You don’t get much warming than that before a hot tongue licks from the base of your balls all the way to your hole. You shiver violently at the feeling. Does his tongue feel much stickier and thicker than a normal humans or is that just your imagination? He licks a long strip from your balls to your ass again, this time slower than the last. And this time you can’t help the sound that comes from your mouth. You place both of your hands on your knees with your head bowed between your shoulders. This might be a little harder than you thought.

“Don’t hold back, pipsqueak. I love hearing those beautiful noises,” the demon says huskily. “It’s like a reward.”

You go to say something, but everything and anything you were going to do is thrown away as a thick tongue is pushed past the tight rim of your ass. You let out a startled cry at the odd sensation of the hot, sticky tongue within you. It’s as thick as at least three fingers and feels longer than such. It prods and seeps deeper within you, as if searching for something. It stretches you oddly, the strange feeling earning a whimpered moan from your lips.

You bend over a little more, fisting your hands on your knees as they begin to shake. You shudder an exhale as the demon’s tongue curls within you, folding on top of itself to make itself thicker before coiling back out. This is not what you had in mind, but you must admit it does feel amazing. If he keeps this up, you might have to take it to the gravel because your legs might just give way.

You can’t help but keen and gasp at the warm tongue prodding and pushing against your prostate. Your legs shake as it only feels like he goes deeper, and deeper. A sheen of sweat starts to cover your skin that’s quickly cooled in the cold night air.

Your cock sits half hard between your legs, but it wouldn’t take much more to get yourself to full length. You wrap a hand around your cock, giving yourself a few dry strokes. You can’t help the groans and whines that slip through your parted lips as the demon seems content in eating you out for the time being.

After another minute of prodding and twisting, you feel yourself already coming close. This is all so new and blissful that you can’t help yourself. You’re coming in your hand before you even know it. You gasp and groan, clenching your jaw as the tongue retracts from within you. A little shame rids into your gut, but the satisfaction out weights it for now.

A dark chuckle comes from behind you, “You lasted a little longer than some of the other fellas that come to me.”

“Nice to know,” you pant out.

You don’t think you can stand much longer. You return your hands to your knees, trying to catch your breath.

“But we ain’t done, pipsqueak,” the demon rumbles as he stands to his feet.

You peer over your shoulder with wide eyes to catch the demon wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. His blonde hair is ruffled, and those green eyes only watch you with a hunger that’s on the verge of starving.

“Deal isn’t struck until I come in you,” he says bluntly.

“W-what?” You stutter.

The demon leans into your back, wrapping his arms around your middle and hooking his chin on top of your head. He engulfs you fully, holding on tight so that you can’t leave. He leans down and breathes into your ear, and you can’t help but freeze up and become ridged.

He speaks slower and gruffer this time, his voice rough in your ear, “I’m going to fuck you until you come again from just my cock. And nothing else. And then I’m going to fill you up so that you, a little pipsqueak like yourself can become nice and tall to impress everyone around you.”

Goosebumps run across your cool skin at the thought of such. You’ve never had anyone talk to you like this. You’ve never let anyone talk to you like this, but oh my do you like it a little bit too much. The rough words go straight to your soft cock, making it twitch.

“Do you want me to do that?” The demon asks as one of his hands slides back around to your ass, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. “Can you do that for me? Hmm?”

You breath out shakily, “Y-yes, please.”

You can feel him grin again against your neck before giving your flushed skin a kiss. He moves away but just enough so that he can undo his belt. The clinking of the buckle is loud on the open road, and you suddenly become very aware of where you are. You glance around at the empty fields that surround the gravel crossroads. No one comes down here and you bloody hope that no one decides to spontaneously come down a deserted road. But all of that is quickly washed away as a thumb prods into your saliva slicked ass. You grit your teeth at the wet sound and the feel of the cool saliva running down your legs.

The demon hums behind you, almost satisfied with what he’s inspecting. “I think I over did it a little, but you’ll be perfect all the same.”

The thumb disappears to only be replaced by the warmth of the demon’s cock. From what you can feel, he’s big. You can’t help but tense up as you suddenly over think everything. But a hand comes around your front, resting over your heart.

“Oh my,” the demon hums. “Now now, that won’t do. Relaaax, pipsqueak. I ain’t going to do this if you don’t want to. It’s your deal after all.”

The statement does in fact calm you down. You’re here to make a deal. He may be a demon, but he hasn’t hurt you as of yet. Which is reassuring to you right now.

“L-Let’s seal the deal,” you shakily utter out. Not out of fear, but more anticipation and need.

A low chuckle in your ear has your soft dick twitching. The demon pushes past the rim of your ass, the head of his girthy cock slipping in easily. You gasp loudly as he pushes in a little further before pulling out and slamming his hips flush against your ass. He bottom’s out quickly, the entire length of his dick sitting snuggling inside of you. He worked you open well enough to do so, a deep chuckle emitting from his flushed lips. He curves in just the right way that hits against your prostate almost perfectly. The way that has your knees becoming weak and leaves you breathless. He stretches you a little painfully, more so than his tongue but you find yourself only wanting more. The pleasure that courses through your gut fizzles your head and you find yourself not thinking straight.

The demon begins a quick pace, using the hand on your chest to keep you in position as he thrusts into you. He more or less towers over you, being able to hold you up if your legs decided they didn’t want to support you any longer.

The noises that comes from your mouth are ones of pure bliss. You don’t know where to put your hands and after a while you end up placing a one on top of the demon’s on your chest. He chuckles at that, low and deep into the nape of your neck before grabbing a hold of both of your wrists. He crosses your arms in front of your chest, holding onto you tightly as he pounds his hips into your ass. The wet plap of the demon’s hips is numbed out by just how loud you are. You whine and keen and moan with every thrust and every inch he gives you.

You try to catch your breath but every time it’s knocked out of you with each thrust. You’re unable to keep yourself quiet at the closeness and the fulfilment of the demon. He breathes into your neck, mouthing words and kisses into your sweaty skin. Your once soft dick now bounces between your legs half hard. You don’t think you could handle anything touching your dick at the moment. Everything buzzes and trembles in all the right ways.

“You’re probably the best one yet,” the demon grins in your ear. “Taking my cock like a good lil’ boy.”

The praise makes you feel high. You get lost in everything, the constant stretch and pull of the demon pounding without tiredness into your ass. You hunch over, allowing better access for the demon and he follows you. Towering over you, holding you close to his chest. Engulfed in his arms that could wrap around your entirely.

You come a second time, this time being much harsher than the first. You forget how to breath and forget where you are for a second. The demon lets up. Even when you’ve tightened around him, it only makes his movements even more driven. He pumps once, twice before driving his cock deep within you. The warm sensation of him filling you makes your entire body shudder. Makes your dick twitch, expelling a little more cum before once again softening between your legs.

Your legs tremble and shake and if it weren’t for the demon holding onto you, you would have fallen on your face by now in the gravel. You breath heavily, trying to catch your breath as the demon makes sure every last drop of him is expelled inside of you. Sealing the deal.

He pulls out and you whine at the sudden loss. It’s a pathetic noise that you can’t stop. You never knew you could make so many noises until tonight. Nothing that has ever been drawn from you before. And find yourself having loved every moment.

“Can you stand?” The demon chuckles.

You lick your lips and swallow thickly. After a while, you nod sharply as you drag your feet under you. The demon lets you go but keeps his hands on you, afraid you may fall to your knees. But you don’t, you shake a little, but you stand all the same.

You can feel the demon’s cum drippling down your leg and you already know it’s going to be a fun five hour drive home. You might have to grab a motel because five hours sounds like five days right now.

When you turn to face the demon, you now stand eye to eye with his green gaze. He grins from ear to ear with a cocked eyebrow. The deal has been struck.

You don’t feel any different, but the ground does now look as if it’s further away. You’ve gotten your extra inches. Just like that.

“Th-thank you,” you manage to get out.

This makes the crossroads demon laugh, covering his mouth with a hand. Crow’s feet scratch at the corner of his eyes. He points to you with a toothy smile.

“You know, if you ever want to make another deal, call on me personally,” the demon chuckles deeply, “This was fun.”

That, actually sounds like a good idea. You work in an office. You’re digging yourself an early grave anyways.

“And how should I-“ you have to lick your lips, your entire mouth dry. “How should I do that?” You ask.

“Dean,” the demon finally greets himself. “The name’s Dean.”

-

:)

[jadeslaceslit]

tick tick tick.. - demon d.w

havent wrote smut or fanfic in a good 2 years so please give any feedback on this!! and let me know if I should make a part 2 IDKKK!! :P

word count- 512

warning - degradation, knife play (somewhat), knee humping!

"tick tick tick y/n.... where are you..." Dean said, I could hear him he getting closer and closer as the sound of leaves crunch on the ground.

I stayed put in place behind the tree trying to steady my breath so he couldn't hear the pants from me since he had chased me through the forest. as I leaned my head back on the tree and finally got my breathing to go back to its original pace and close my eyes in hopes if I stay quiet Dean will just leave me alone.

Those hopes were quickly shattered as I feel a hand placed on my mouth and a knee pushed in-between my legs trapping me to the tree and a coarse voice spoke

"Gotcha" Dean says as he looks down at me and smiles sinisterly, this wasn't my Dean, I knew that from the beginning of him chasing me through the forest but this "new" Dean.. was just as.. hot.

Dean slowly took the knife from the back of his pocket and placed it on my throat and said "Run away, and I'll hunt you down and slit your fucking throat"

I just stared at him wide eyed as I felt the cold metal pressed into my neck and he spoke again "got it bitch?" I nodded and he slowly took my hand off my mouth and took away the blade from my throat.

he gripped my face and start to kiss me, and I gave in a kissed him back and as my body betrayed me I started to slowly grind into his knee as my core was heating up more and more and the kiss got more and more intense so did my hips and I slowly grinding myself into his knee. As Dean pulled away from the kiss he spoke "what a fucking whore you, Huh? Grinding your pussy in my knee after I just threaten to slit your throat.." he spoke and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment of getting caught and I stopped my hips moving abruptly. Dean spoke again "I never said stop" I took that as a good for me to continue my movements.

"what a good fucking whore you are" he spoke again and I moaned into the degradation he was feeding me.

I speed up my movements on Deans knees each hip roll causing me to inch closer and closer and my nails reached up to knees arms clawing at him from my own pleasure and just as I was about to reach my full pleasure Dean took his knee away from my making me fall on my knees in the dirt and I winced as my knees hit the ground and my clit throbbing just for one more once of pleasure.

Dean looked down at me and grabbed my cheeks to make me look at me in his eyes and all he said was..

"you dont get your pleasure till I had some of my own first sweetheart" the filth and lust dripping from each word.

PART 2 MAYBE IDK??!?!?!?

FEEDBACK PLSSS!!!

[voxslays]

JD vox x Veronica g/n reader? Please. Take your time, 😄❤

A/N: ty for the request anon! i absolutely adore heathers, especially the song i chose for this fic (and also their dynamic??) sorry it took me so long! <3

MEANT TO BE YOURS

Featuring >>> JD-coded! Vox x Veronica! Reader

Vox had gone too far. He had tried to tear down the hotel from its roots—Charlie. He had tried to destroy the only family you had left…and you couldn’t take it anymore. So you did the only rational thing you could think of. You cut Vox off completely. Which in hindsight, was the worst mistake you ever could’ve made.

Vox was outside your room in the hotel, simply standing there menacingly. There were small bolts of blue electricity stemming from his clawed hands. His usually blue and red eyes now in their hypnotic state. You were done for, you thought. Yet, in a demanding but sweet tone, Vox yells, “All is forgiven, baby! Come on, get dressed!” He laughs manically. “You're my date to the extermination watch-party tonight!” He says as he zaps into your room via the TV.

Your jaw drops in shock at Vox's bizarre proclamation. The manic gleam in his eyes is unsettling, but there's an undeniable undercurrent of desperation beneath his cruel facade. He reaches out to grab your arm, his grip surprisingly gentle compared to the intimidating aura surrounding him. "You chucked me out like I was trash.” Vox sneers. “And for that you should be dead.” He says, his tone both firey and furious—even more so than the depths of hell that surround you.

His hands tremble slightly as he holds your arm. The electric current pulsing from his fingers seems to hum with an emotion you thought he didn't possess - vulnerability. "Then it hit me like a flash What if the hotel went away instead?" Vox declares harshly. "Those assholes are the key! They're keeping you away from me!” He states, seemingly unaware of how insane he sounds to you. “They made you blind, messed up your mind!” Vox hums. “But I can set you free!” He whispers.

“Vox, I-” His grip tightens slightly, the electric current pulsing through his fingers almost warm. "You left me and I fell apart…I punched the wall and cried." He growls softly, making punching motions with his fists, but there's an underlying plea that makes your heart falter. "Then I found you, changed my heart. And set loose all that truthful shit inside!" Your heart breaks for him. What had you done to this man? “Vox, please.” You beg.

His face contorts into a mix of anger and sorrow, pixelated tears nearly welling up in his hypnotic eyes. "And so I built a bomb!” He shouts, his voice cracking slightly. “Tonight the hotel is Vietnam! Let's guarantee they never see the violence calm!" His voice raises. You gasp.

He pulls you closer, his face inches from yours. The electric current from his hands now a comforting warmth as he looks at you with pleading, crazed eyes. "I was meant to be yours, we were meant to be one!” He pauses, gripping your hands tighter. “Don't give up on me now, finish what we've begun!" Before you could even give your answer to the overlord, he speaks again. “So when the hotel goes "boom" with everyone inside.” He makes finger guns with little ‘pkhew!’ sounds, which would’ve been cute in any other situation. “In the rubble of their tomb, we'll plant this note explaining why they died!” Vox hums, his enthusiasm never faltering.

We, the residents of the Hazbin Hotel, will die! Our burned bodies may finally get through to you, Our society churns out slaves and blanks. No, thanks. Signed the residents of the Hazbin Hotel, Goodbye.

“I was meant to be yours, we were meant to be one.” Vox sighs as he sings his heart out to you. “I can't make it alone, help me finish what we've begun!” You were terrified. Vox’s hypnotic eyes had began to spin, and you had almost lost yourself in his trance. You were running out of time. “You were meant to be mine! I am all that you need! You carved open my heart, can't just leave me to bleed!” While he’s distracted, you take this as your chance to get into your closet, locking the door tightly, and leaning a chair against it.

He listens to the sound of the closet door locking, his grin fading as confusion and a hint of panic, anger, and frustration sets in. "What…?" He mutters, turning around to face the closet door. "Darling, open the, open the door, please…" He begs, his voice slightly shaky. “Sweetheart, open the door.”

He pounds his fists against the closet door, the dark wood creaking under his blows. "Can we not fight anymore, please?” He begs once again, receiving no answer. “Can we not fight anymore?” He repeats, his voice echoing through the room. Suddenly, he stops and presses his ear against the door, listening intently. His voice softens to a whisper. “Sure, you're scared, I've been there, I can set you free!" He taps his long demon-like nails gently on the door.

He steps back from the door, his expression turning cold and calculating. "Don’t make me come in there!” Vox warns, raising his voice. “I'm gonna count to three!” He yells as the static in his voice appears. He reaches for the doorknob, his hand wrapping around it tightly. "One…" He counts, his voice steady and menacing. "Two…" He continues, his voice growing louder. "Fuck it!" He shouts, as he forces open the door. “Found you…”

[chevroletdean]

Tainted [Masterlist]

SHIP: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (MOC!Dean x Reader, Demon!Dean x Reader)

TO NOTE/WARNINGS: Seasons 9-10 spoilers, established relationship, (heavy) angst, alcohol, violence & gore (a little grittier than canon level), injuries, hurt/comfort, mentions of torture, implied cheating, temporary character death, cussing, needles and syringes, minor character death, smut, 18+ content MDNI! (more tba)

A/N: Demon!Dean and MOC!Dean hold my heart. I've been wanting to write an angsty fanfiction about the Mark of Cain arc for a while now, and the @jacklesversebingo challenge has inspired me to finally go for it. I haven't written a multichapter fanfiction in years, so I'm both nervous and excited. This is a longer project, bare with me. Be mindful of the warnings for each chapter, please. Feedback is always appreciated. <3

SUMMARY: As his nightmares get worse, Dean realizes he’s turning into something he’s terrified of; he needs his girlfriend’s help. The corruption of the Mark of Cain leads to a heart-wrenching promise. Can the curse be lifted or will it leave scars?

PLAYLIST

Chapter 1: Practice My Confession

Chapter 2: Breathe Me In, Bleed Me Out

Chapter 3: Bruised Fruits & Rotten Cores [OUT NOW]

Chapter 4: You're Stained [out soon]

Chapter 5: Fan Fiction

Chapter 6: Drown My Demons

Chapter 7: Love Is the Death of Peace of Mind

Chapter 8: I'm a Winged Insect, You're a Funeral Pyre

More To Come...

Dean Winchester Taglist: @winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126 @zepskies @calibootsgirl

@hot-and-confused @spookyfunhottub @berryblues46 @midnight--raine @emmy21842

Put a green heart 💚 in the comments to be added to the Dean x Reader taglist. Let me know, if you want to be tagged for this Series specifically. (Please note: Ageless blogs will only be tagged in fluff and angst posts!)

Links: Masterlist ──〃★ AO3 ──〃★ request here

[impala-dreamer]

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…”

2024 Tags 

@feelmyroarrrr @caplanbuckybarnes @mariekoukie6661 @alwaystiredandconfused @zepskies

@k-slla @foxyjwls007 @shadyloveobject @cosicas-cuquis @luvr4miya

@deanwinchesterswitch @cevansdove-baby @somebrokeartstudent @peytongoose @illicithallways

Add Yourself To The List

[the-lone-writer94]

The Damned and Doomed

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

*Contains spoilers from Supernatural season 10*

Summary: You are a hunter, sent by Sam to help capture Dean. The only problem is, Dean just so happens to be your type and you’re incredibly attracted to him. As a hunter this goes against every instinct, but will you fall for the demon?

Age rating: 18+ (Steamy make out scene, slight *knife play* and violence)

Trigger warnings: Knife play and violence

Word count: 2,383

Note: 1st gif (second row, right) credit goes to mvdeanw on Tumblr

2nd gif (last row, left) credit goes to DanceWithMeJensen on Tumblr

I punched in the number into the dialpad and pressed the cell phone against my ear, awaiting for the call to be picked up. Within seconds, the dialtone stopped.

“Hello.” The voice on the other end said.

“Sam,” I said, and uttered my name. “listen, a buddy of mine said to call you if any of us see your brother, well, I’ve got a location on your brother and that asshole Crowley. They’re hold up in some shithole bar with a karaoke machine in Beulah, North Dakota.”

“You sure it’s them?” Sam asked.

“It matches the photo I saw.” I explained, and then added, “but, I’m sending you a photo just incase, along with the address.” I fiddled with my phone, and forwarded a shot I had taken of them just a few hours ago.

Sam exhaled.

The silence lingered, and I cleared my throat. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, sorry. That’s them alright,” he said between gritted teeth. “I won’t be able to get out there that fast. Look, I know this might be a lot to ask, but would you be able to get Dean away from Crowley, and stall them or anything, just make sure he doesn’t run off.” Sam stuttered.

“I can try. But by the looks of it, it doesn’t seem as if they’re going anywhere. I followed them to the motel they’re staying, and there was a booking under an Eddie Van Halen which they paid for cash for the next two weeks.”

“That’s definitely the kind of alias Dean would use.” Sam explained. “Listen, there’s something you should know… about Dean.” He paused.

“Okay?” I questioned.

Sam exhaled. “Dean is a demon, it’s a long story- but something happened a while back, I don’t know how- but he turned.”

“That’s- woah.” I said, trying to process the information.

“I’m trusting you with this information- please don’t kill him.”

I exhaled. “Sam, I know not everything is as black and white. But, if he’s a demon-” I paused.

“There’s a cure.” He interjected.

“What?”

“I can’t quite get into it now. But promise me you won’t kill him.”

I closed my eyes, contemplating everything for a second before I opened them again. “I won’t.” I gave him my word.

“Thank you. And, you’re able to stall them? I know my brother, and if he finds out you’re another hunter - it’s not going to end well.”

“Don’t you worry about that, I know how to distract men like him. He won’t even see it coming.” I insisted.  

------------------------------------------

As I pushed open the doors and entered the bar, I was immediately hit with the whiff of vinegary aroma of the beer that covered every inch of the place. A muffled sound of chatter filled the room, but was drowned out by the terrible singing that was being blared from the low quality speakers and microphone. Occassionaly, there would be a high pitched sound from the microphone feedback, causing people to flinch.

In the distance, I recognized the man up on the stage. Dean stumbled in his stance, he wore a gray shirt with a black T-shirt underneath, paired with blue jeans and black boots. In one hand he held his half filled beer and with the other the microphone was placed below his lips. As he attempted to sing the song I’m Too Sexy, with half of the lyrics either incorrect or slurred.

People booed at him, but he didn’t seem to care as he continued on.

I watched as Dean was lost in his own little world, singing and dancing to the lyrics. I adjusted my top, pulling it down as I stood straighter in my stance and walked towards him. During the time I had been following Dean, I had managed to be a ghost in the shadows. Blending in amongst the rest of the crowd, however, tonight. I needed to be seen.

I had chosen the tightest clothes I owned, consisting of a white tank top and blue jeans, paired with a black leather jacket and six inch heeled boots.

My gaze met with Dean’s, as I winked at him. I watched as the corner of his mouth turned into a smile. I spun on my heels, knowing full well that his eyes were glued to my body, as I made my way towards the bar, and took a seat on the bar stool.

It didn’t take long, before I heard the music stopping followed by Dean by my side.

“Hello there,” he smirked, as he leaned on the counter.

“Hi there, handsome.” I flirted.

“What’s your name, darling?” He asked.

“Buy me a drink first, and I’ll tell you.” I teased.

Dean gestured at the bartender. “A Jack and Coke.” I said.

“And another beer… actually keep ‘em coming.” Dean said, then added, “and put them on Crowley’s tab.”

Unsure of how much time had passed, however based on the amount of empty beer glasses that had compiled on the counter, I only assumed it had been a while.

 I couldn’t deny that Dean was incredibly attractive, and he was certainly the type of man I would usually go for. Knowing what he was, I knew I had to be careful and shouldn’t fall for him. But, it was certainly a challenge.

I finished the rest of my drink, and turned my attention to Dean, edging forward and closing the gap between us. Gently, I rested my hand on his thigh as it glided up his leg.

“What do you say we get out of here?” I purred.

Dean smirked. “Lead the way sweetheart.”

I removed myself from the barstool and made my way out of the bar towards the motel just nearby. I knew Dean’s eyes were on me, as I continued to lead the way.

Just then, I paused by the door to my room. I turned to face Dean, he towered over me and closed the gap between us. He lowered his head as he pressed his lips onto mine. Despite knowing that I should pull away, I couldn’t help but let the desire posess over me.

My lips parted, and Dean slipped his tongue inside my mouth. My arms wrapped around his neck as I pulled him closer towards me. He must have felt the urgency behind my kiss, as he pressed his body into mine, slamming my back into the door.

Suddenly, we paused and I tried to catch my breath, feeling slightly light-headed. I shook my head, and tried to recollect what had just happened.

My hand reached into the pocket of my jeans as I pulled out the key and unlocked the door towards my motel room.

We crossed the threshold, and Dean closed the door behind him.

There wasn’t much to the boxy little motel room, and having lived my life on the road, the endless motels began to merge in my mind. All I needed were four walls, a bed and a decent shower.

I spun to face Dean, and he immediately stepped towards me. His hands were all over me, and his mouth found mine again. He hoisted me up and my legs wrapped around his body.

My fingers found it’s way knotted in his hair as I tugged onto the ends, he groaned into me, which caused him to deepen the kiss.

Then, Dean carried me over to the bed as he threw me down before climbing on top of me. My hands caressed his broad shoulders, and then his muscular chest, as we continued to make out. His wet tongue deep inside of my mouth.

Dean’s touch stroked the side of my body as he reached up and grabbed my neck, choking me gently. I moaned, as I pulled him closer to me. He lowered his lips onto my neck, just as he did so I felt his stubble tickle my skin.

He left a trail of kisses along my neck. I moaned as my fingers became entwined once again in his hair. He pulled away and our gazes locked.

Then, I rolled us over, as Dean allowed me to so that I was on top of him. It seemed to excite Dean, as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged at it.

My fingers danced across his chest. “Do you want to play?” I teased.

“Always, sweetheart.” He responded.

I reached over towards my duffel bag just by the bed, as I tried to slyly retrieve the handcuffs. However, I could not feel them.

Dean shifted in his position, reaching towards his back pocket. All of a sudden, I recognized the familiar object dangling from his fingertips.

I flinched.

The shiny silver handcuffs, etched with the sigil of the Devil’s Trap hung from Dean’s fingers.

“I guess this is what you’re looking for?” He challenged. “I saw them poking out of your bag just now, so swiped them when you weren’t looking.”

Immediately, I lunged towards Dean, but he was as fast as lighting. He rolled me over and pinned me down. Within seconds, he had managed to cuff me to the bottom of the headboard of the bed.

Angrily, I tugged at my now bound hands, with Dean towering over me. His eyes flashed to the jet black, no longer were the crystal green eyes.

He drew out a knife from the inside of his jacket and placed it under my neck.

My jaw clenched, and my breathing quickened as I tried to stay as still as I could.

“Uh huh,” He warned, and added, “so you know what I am. And, I’m guessing Sammy sent you?”

I swalloed the lump in my throat. “Can I at least sit up, at this angle the cuffs are digging into my skin.”

Dean held his gaze with mine, as his eyes narrowed. As if he were pondering if I was lying. However, he removed the knife away from my neck.

“Your brother cares about you Dean.” I said, as I managed to sit up, and adjusted my hands lower behind my back trying to conceal them away from Dean’s vision. I would always have a bobby pin slipped onto the edge of my sleeve. My only shot was to stall him, as I tried to pick at the lock of the cuffs.

“It’s a shame, because I reallly think you and I had something going.” He said.

I scoffed. “Yeah, a Demon and hunter- I’m sure that’ll end well.”

“I know you want me, I can see it in your eyes.” He teased.

“It was all part of the plan.” I shot back. Not quite sure that I even believed myself.

Dean shifted in his position, his eyes locked with mine. “Are you so sure about that?” He edged forward, as he raised the knife and placed it on my bare chest. I felt the ice coldness of the blade caress my skin.

I felt my heartbeat pound against my chest and my breathing quickened.

“The way you kissed me just now, your hands all over my body,” he whispered, as he moved the blade down to my tits, using it to rub against my hardened nipples. I bit down on my lower lip. He stared down, and then back up at me again, then smirked. His hand grabbed around my neck, “ever since I became a Demon. I can fuck you harder and faster.” He growled, his hot breath on my skin.

“That’s what all men say.”

“Honey, there ain’t no other men like me.” He smirked.

His hand moved down, along with the knife as he draped the flat surface of the blade down on my body and then on my inner thigh.

“Well, I have a rule… and that’s I don’t really like to mix business with pleasure.” I said.

Dean removed his grip from my neck, along with the knife from my thigh. “It’s a shame that now I have to kill you.”

“Yeah, well I’ll like to see you try.” I challenged.

Immediately, my fist swung and connected with his face. Dean was taken aback and stumbled backwards.

“All you men are so easily distracted.” I teased, as I held the handcuffs in my hand.

I lunged towards Dean, but he side stepped. Hurriedly, I parried and he blocked the impact. Knowing that Dean had a height advantage over me, I slammed my heel into his shin.

The blow caused him to stumble, as he knelt down on the ground. I quickly reached for the flask containing Holy Water from my duffel bag, as I tore away the cap and chucked the water at Dean.

Smoke emerged from his face, as he groaned in pain. Now slightly weakened, I pushed him down onto the bed, and quickly placed the handcuffs on him, bounding him to the headboard.

I placed a knife under his neck, as he stared at me in anger.

“I sort of prefer it when I’m on top” I provoked.

--------------------------------------

Once Sam had shoved Dean into the backseat of the Impala, he slammed the door shut and approached me.

I watched from the distance, as Dean’s eyes were glued to me. But the more I studied Dean, I soon realized that it wasn’t anger in his eyes, but melancholy.

Sam wore a dark green coat with a blue plaid shirt underneath, paired with jeans and boots. His right arm was in a sling, I had thought about asking him what had happened, but swallowed the question.

“Thank you again.” Sam said.

“Don’t worry about it.” I said nonchalantly and waved my hand. I cleared my throat. “So… there’s a cure?”

Sam sighed. “Yeah, listen- I know this whole thing sounds skeptical-” He trailed off.

“I think he’s still in there somewhere.” I said, as I watched Sam’s eyes widened. “Earlier, he could have killed me the second I knew about him, but he didn’t. I could sense his hesitation.”

Sam exhaled, as his expression shifted in a moment of relief. “We should get going, thank you once again.”

“Hey, Sam- let me know what happens. Please.”

Sam nodded. “Of course.” He answered, as he turned away and got into the Impala.

I watched as the Impala roared to life, moving into the distance further and further away, until I was standing there alone.

[lila-lou]

Hey there 🩷

I will be making a tag list for all upcoming projects including Jensen, Dean and Soldier Boy.

If you would like to be added, just leave a comment. 🩷

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Dean Again

Summary: Can Dean and Y/N ever go back to normal after Demon!Dean paid a visit?

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Demon!Dean x Reader (kind of) Could be seen as a romantic or platonic relationship.

Warnings: Angst. Lots. Brief show level violence.

Word Count: 1, 986

A/N: So, this is a request from @kayyay1219:

So I was thinking Demon!dean x teen!reader where Dean has the mark of Cain and he does and comes back as a demon and he kidnaps her and Sam saves her and Sam gets the demon out of Dean. Then the reader is scared of Dean because all the trauma she went through. So Sam talks to her one night and she ends up going to Dean’s room and talking to him. He makes it up to her and they both have a movie night and cuddle.❤️

I made some changes to the request hon, hope they're okay. I didn't specify that it was a teen!reader, but it certainly could be. I tried to leave the reader as open as possible. Their affection can be read as romantic in nature or platonic. I also didn't include as much Sam in it as you requested, and kept the story a little simpler. It's just the way it came out, and I hope it still works for you.

Hope you all enjoy and please let me know what you thought - your feedback means everything! ❤️

Dean One Shots || Dean Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Dean felt as though there were razors under his skin, cutting him slowly, leaving him to bleed out; the pain was too visceral. Images rushed through his mind in a constant merry-go-round of horror; Y/N, her face terrified, her words dripping desperation as she begged and pleaded for him to stop.

“I know you’re in there, Dean, please, please don’t do this.”

The crack and rattle of her bones as he laughed away her tears and the blood-curdling scream of fear from deep in her throat pierced his ear drum until his mind was black with it all. 

He lifted the full bottle of Jack Daniels to his lips and downed almost half of it before slamming it onto the table and gasping from the fire that burned his esophagus.

Sam came into the dimly lit library; Dean hadn’t bothered with many lights. The darkness was where he belonged. He cut off his little brother before he could offer him the solace and excuses that were just waiting there in his warm, hazel, puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t Sam. I absolutely don’t wanna hear it.”

Sam snapped his jaw shut and clenched it tight as he sat across from him. He let the quiet reign for a little while before speaking softly. 

“Cas healed her, and I gave her a mild sleeping pill, should help her…” He cleared his throat. “Should keep her from dreaming too much.”

Dean nodded, hoping that was all his brother was going to say on the subject. But of course he should’ve known better. 

“Dean. No, just listen.” He interjected when Dean started to interrupt him again. “What happened was awful, and it’s probably going to take Y/N some time to get over it, but she will.” Sam sighed deeply. “She loves you, Dean. She knows it wasn’t really you.”

Dean just closed his eyes as the mark on his arm warmed slightly to remind him that the demon may be gone for now, but the darkness that had turned him into a knight of hell was still there, still coursing through his veins like poison. How was it not him? It was his hands, his cruelty, his evil that had hurt one of the people he loved most in the world.

How were he and Y/N ever supposed to get past that and just carry on like before? He had no answers, so he picked up the bottle of Jack to see if there were any waiting at the bottom.

The red lights flashed throughout the bunker and the alarm blared; the color of blood and the sound of mechanical screaming kept Y/N running aimlessly through the halls, desperate to try and outrun the demon who snarled out his laughter.

She saw him appear at the end of one long hallway, so she darted down another, even though she knew his long, determined stride would eventually catch up to her. She ran into the kitchen and grabbed a butcher’s knife just as he hopped jauntily down the steps after her. She spun around with the knife raised as he stood smiling at the foot of the stairs.

He shook his head. “Oh, Y/N, silly girl. What do you think that’s going to do to me? I always thought you were smarter than that.”

He stalked towards her and she started to circle around the island. He followed, a soft, sardonic smile never leaving his face. She loved that smile, usually. But now, she didn’t see it reflected in his eyes as they blinked oil slick black. 

“Please.” She said breathlessly as she half-heartedly waved the knife towards him. “I know you’re in there, Dean. Please, please don’t do this.”

His smile widened and suddenly he lunged at her, grabbing her by the neck and shaking her like a ragdoll, so hard that the knife clattered pointlessly from her numb fingertips. He slammed her back against the stone wall and a blinding pain erupted through her head as her skull cracked against it. 

She felt nauseous as the pain rippled through her. He pulled her close to him, sneering into her face as she scratched at his hand to try and loosen his grip. She knew it was pointless, but he was letting in very little air as she flailed in his hand. 

“I told you and Sammy to leave me alone. All you had to do was listen, all you had to do was stop being a nagging pain in the ass. All the two of you had to do, for once, was stop being my biggest fucking burden, stop trying to keep me down. I just wanted to fucking party, howl at the moon, like Crowley promised me. I just wanted the two fucking weights around my neck to drop off the face of the earth, and give me some goddamn peace and quiet.”

He slammed her back against the stone wall again, making every bone in her body ache. “But of course not. Of course Saint Sammy and Little Orphan Annie had to come try and save me. Well, if you won’t leave me alone, then I’ll just have to take you both out of the fuckin’ equation.”

Dean’s fist tightened around Y/N’s throat until black spots sprung up in front of her eyes. She believed beyond a doubt that this demon was about to end her. She tried to scream, but had no breath. The world went dark and she woke up finally able to scream out her terror.

Her bedroom was dark, and she fumbled with her bedside lamp to try and illuminate it. Just as she got it on, her bedroom door opened and light from the hallway spilled in. 

Dean stood in her doorway, filling it up with his broadness. His face was slightly flushed and his gaze was a little frantic as he looked at her. The fear and worry that clouded his gaze was so very “Dean” that it brought new tears to her eyes. God, how much she’d missed him. 

And yet, as he strode towards her, her body moved instinctively, scrambling to sit up against her pillows and headboard, pulling herself as far away from him as possible.

Dean stopped dead and didn't move for a moment. Finally he took a step back.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I heard you scream and I just…” He shook his head and took another step back towards her door. “But that was really stupid.”

He thumbed at the door behind him. “Okay, I'll uh, I'll send Sam in to check on you.”

“No, don't.” Y/N said quietly. 

Dean looked her in the eye and nodded, seemingly confused. “Oh, okay. Then just…get some more sleep, I guess.”

He left the room quickly, quietly clicking the door behind him.

Y/N felt awful. She meant she didn't want Sam to come because she wanted him there. But when it came down to it, the words asking him to stay wouldn't come. 

Dean was the person who'd always made her feel safest in the world. She'd always known she could count on him, that he would wade through hell to save her. She knew too that what the mark turned him into wasn't truly him. But the sneer on his beautiful face sat burned into her memory. She was having a hard time separating it from Dean's warm and occasionally goofy grin.

As she laid wide awake in her bed a frustrating dilemma played out in her mind. She was shaking from head to toe, internal shivers making her insides quake. 

Ordinarily, when she was this scared and hurting, she'd run to Dean and cuddle up with him under his covers. She'd ask him to hold her close, tuck her head under his chin and envelop her in his muscular arms where she'd finally feel as though nothing could ever hurt her. 

But she didn't think that would work this time. Running to him when he was also the thing she was running from just didn't make logical sense.

But as she laid there feeling alone and terrified, logic started to matter less and less. She considered  going to Sam with her fears; she knew he'd reassure her and comfort her. But it was never going to be the same. She needed Dean.

She slid her feet into her warm slippers to guard against the freezing concrete floors and padded down the hallways to room number 11.

She stood outside for far too long, contemplating turning around. But finally she knocked, her knuckles barely a whisper against the wood.

“Yeah.” Dean's voice was slightly gruff and muffled on the other side of the door. The harshness almost sent her running back to her room, but instead she turned the knob and threw the door wide open before she could completely lose her nerve.

Dean was laying on his bed, stretched out on his back with his head pillowed on his hands, but he sat up quickly, surprise filling his expression.

“Y/N?” His voice was incredulous.

Y/N thought of everything she wanted to say, and it all came out in a slightly gushing ramble.

“I need a hug. I need a hug from you to make me feel better and safe. But also, you nearly killed me less than twenty-four hours ago, and it terrified me. But I think I'm even more terrified of losing you as my best friend and protector because of it. I want you to be those things again. I want you to tell me that the things you said weren't true. That I'm more than just a burden to you, that you don't secretly long to get me out of your life. I need you to swear you'll do absolutely everything in your power, no matter what, to get rid of the mark, so that you never become that thing again.”

She paused and breathed deeply as her tears ran freely. “I need you to promise me that you're actually my Dean.”

Dean rose slowly from the bed and came to stand in front of her. He reached out, moving ever so slowly, to wipe away her tears, and his voice was adamant as he spoke.

“Sweetheart, you're the best thing that's ever come into my life, you fill it up with meaning and purpose. You and Sam are the two most important people in the world to me. The demon was a fucking liar.” 

He cupped her cheeks and then tucked her hair behind her ear. “I swear to you that I will not rest until this thing is off my arm and gone from our lives.”

He very slowly dropped his forehead to hers, making sure she could escape him if she wanted. “Baby, I can never fully describe how much it hurts to think of what I did and said. ‘I'm sorry’ isn't enough words, not by a longshot, to explain how much it kills me to think about.”

They stayed like that for a little while, their foreheads just touching and their souls reaching out to one another, testing the sore spots and seeking to ease the ache.

Finally Y/N stepped fully into Dean's arms and he sighed and wrapped them tightly around her. Her head fit just below his chin as it always did, and she felt her internal shaking slow and then stop as the cold in her bones was warmed again by Dean's embrace.

They stood in that position for a long time, drawing strength from one another. Finally, Dean pulled back slightly and kissed her temple. 

“Wanna kick back in the Dean cave with some truly cheesy rom-coms? I'm talkin’ Hallmark level or better.”

Y/N's laugh was a little watery, but still genuine. “Don't you mean Hallmark level or worse?”

“Tom-ay-to. Tom-ah-to.” Dean said with a teasing grin.

And all at once, he was just Dean again.

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@whimsyfinny @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

@aylacavebear @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @livya99 @k-slla @leigh70

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

@fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @lastcallatrockysbar @b3autyfuld1sast3r

[artyandink]

whiskey, baby

SUMMARY: Dean’s no longer a demon, and in order to deal with the horrors of all that he’s said and done he retreated into his own shell. Drowning himself in whiskey and his own problems because that’s all there’s left to do. Then there’s you, his demon self’s esteemed fuck buddy, who comes up with a two step plan to feeling good, only for a little while. Step 1? Let you take the reins. Step 2? Sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.

TW: MOC!Dean, angst, demon trauma, post demon!Dean, Reader’s not a stone cold bitch and actually worries about Dean in this but in her own weird way, Dean doesn’t hate her for an odd reason, smut

STW: switch!Dean, riding, oral (m + f receiving), temperature + whiskey play, lipstick play (does it count?), marking, switch!reader, thigh riding (brief), pussydrunk!Dean, fingering, face sitting, ass slapping, thigh slapping, slight overstimulation, ring kink implied, major praise kink, dirty talk, damage of clothes, vocal Dean, threat of exhibitionism

A/N: Yes, this is a sequel to lipstick, baby, and you guys can make the comparison between Dean as a demon during the smutty parts and Dean post demon and more aware. Hope you enjoy!

NOW PLAYING: RIVER - BISHOP BRIGGS

Dean felt kinda empty, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. Being a demon didn’t suit him at all, and now that it was over he was left to deal with the reality of it all. The killing, punching people’s lights out, hurting Sammy, hurting in general— he hated it with every fibre of his fucking being.

“Fuck.” Dean growled under his breath, staring at himself in the mirror and finding he just couldn’t damn do it, looking away after barely five seconds because holy hell, he wanted to smash the mirror in just to please the Mark throbbing on the skin of his forearm. “Shut up, why don’t you, you… I don’t even know what you are.” He hissed at the Mark, but it didn’t shut up or stop pulsing.

The bunker door being banged on drew his attention away from his own flaws - thank God, if the bastard even existed - and prompted Dean to walk out of his bathroom, grunting an affirmation that yes, he was coming to whoever was behind the door.

When he wrenched it open with an expression that looked like the human equivalent of a ticked off chihuahua, he saw… you. Oh, fuck, oh, shit, you. The woman that he as a demon had incredible sexual escapades that may or may not have been the star of his dreams for weeks on end after the whole demon thing got cured. Pouring the whiskey on your body, you riding him till you both were spent— it felt almost lucid.

“You.” Dean murmured hoarsely, his throat feeling dry upon the sight of you and your gorgeous, sexy self. Today you were in denim shorts and fishnet tights - of course you were in something that made his senses go wild - with the same red plaid that was buttoned up this time, tucked in and the sleeves rolled to your elbows.

He kind of felt a little out of place. Out of place in his own home— that’s the kind of effect you had.

“Gee, how enthusiastic.” You drawled, leaning against the doorframe, brown paper bag clutched in one hand. “I really thought you’d be more inclined to see me, Dean, I’m partially offended.” You gave him a cheeky smirk, then grasped what was in the bag, showing him the neck of a bottle of Jack.

Oh. That changes things.

Dean’s lip twitched up at the sight, warming up to you like he would when drinking the good stuff. Then again, he knew that deep in that roughed up heart of his, he had a soft spot for you in particular. “That’s my girl.” He took the bottle, examining it with a chuckle as he let you inside, kicking the door shut behind him.

“So, Dean, how’ve you been?” You asked, following behind him, your boots clicking on the tile of the bunker’s floor. You looked around, pouting in approval at what you saw. Place was damn impressive. But you were also perceptive to Dean. The way he clutched that bottle like a vice, the slight tightness in his gait, the set of his brow. All subtle, but you’d had sex with this man enough times to know when something bothers him.

What? You were perceptive during sex too, you’re not only in it for the physical stuff. You’re not a monster.

However, Dean just shrugged, making a grumble of an ‘eh’, ambling with you towards his bedroom. “As good as a man can be, sweetheart. You?” Bullshit.

“I mean, how’ve you really been?” The question stopped him dead in his tracks, and he swallowed, eyes furtively glancing to you in a way that screamed ‘oh, shit’. But he didn’t say anything, just prompted him to trudge up to his bedroom, you following, rolling your eyes.

Dean Winchester was the sexiest man alive, but… my god, was he irritating sometimes.

“Three fingers, sweetheart?” Dean asked you as you stepped over the threshold to his bedroom, the guns and random trinkets he’d collected adorning the place as usual. His bed was messy, pillow and blanket askew, which he tried to sort out but only ended up messing it up further.

You smirked, winking as you closed the door behind you, kicking off your boots and moving to sit beside him on the bed, cross legged while he was propped on his hand, legs outstretched. “You know I can take it, handsome, don’t be shy.”

Dean couldn’t stop the visual from popping up in his head. Damn demon him for being so attracted to you. Then again, he couldn’t really say anything.

He poured you three fingers of whiskey in a glass and handed it to you with a soft grunt under his breath, his eyes flicking over you for the umpteenth time before pouring his own. “Here y’ go.”

“Cheers.” You smiled, clinking your glass with his before sipping some of it. “I know you better than you think, y’ know that? You’re struggling, even a blind man can see that one.”

Dean just grunted again, shaking his head. “M’ fine, darlin’. Don’t sweat it.”

“Don’t sweat it? Damn, you really are struggling.” You snorted, taking another sip of your whiskey. “C’mere, babe.”

Dean scooted closer, clearly not anticipating how your lips would ghost his jaw before pressing an open mouthed kiss to it, humming and sucking on the skin, making his breath hitch and eyelashes flutter against his cheeks. “Darlin’—”

“Shh.” You continued kissing down his stubble, drawing a quiet moan from him, not protesting as you plucked the whiskey from his hands and set it on the bedside table, guiding his hand to your hair.

Fuck. This is what he gets, for not having a woman’s touch in a while.

“Mm, baby.” Dean couldn’t help but groan, especially as your hands pulled off his flannel — wait, when did you unbutton that thing? — and tossed it aside, his back hitting the mattress, eyes hazy and hands flying to your soft thighs as you straddled him.

Not like he was roofied, he just felt so drunk. Not on whiskey, but on you, your lips, your gorgeous body.

Now he saw why his demon self liked you so much.

He exposed his neck to you, which earned a hum of approval from you, your hand cupping the side of it as your thumb brushed his pulse. “Attaboy.” You whispered, one hand smoothing back his hair (the whimper that left him was almost embarrassing). “Lemme take your mind off things.”

You returned the favour from the first time, grabbing the whiskey glass and pouring the contents on his chest, the cold compared with your warm body making Dean shiver.

His belt clattered to the floor.

Jeans went after.

And your tongue was on his chest.

Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen something filthier in his life, it rivalled the likes of Casa Erotica— your tongue flattening against the divots and ridges of his muscle as you collected the burn of the whiskey on your tongue, moving down and down, kissing his v-line, nuzzling his thighs.

“Don’t you stop, sweetheart.” Dean pleaded, voice strangled, hips bucking as your fingers hooked into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his cock, which was already needy for you.

Damn, the effect you had on him was ethereal.

You chuckled, licking from his base to his tip while your thumb spread his precome, his hips bucking into your hand with a needy whine. “Not gonna stop, don’t you worry.”

“Gonna taste you,” He panted, his skin glowing already with a thin layer of sweat as his hand twisted in your hair, “when this is done. Mark my words, pretty girl, gonna eat you dumb— son of a bitch.”

“Looking forward to it.” You murmured before you took him into your mouth, working him fast while grinding into the bed.

The sight of him with his head tossed back, eyes rolled and freckled cheeks flushed like that was incredibly hot, ok? Don’t blame a woman.

You pulled off him to suck at his tip, which had him fisting the sheets, eyebrows furrowed in bliss. “So good, handsome. Taste so good.” You murmured, which earned you a sinful whimper.

Praise kink. Noted.

Your signature scarlet lipstick smeared on him — good — and left your mark, sucking and licking until Dean came, spilling into your mouth, but you’re a trooper, so you swallowed the whole thing.

Before you could register, however, you were being yanked up the bed and Dean’s hands were undoing your shorts, shoving them down — ripping your panties — and taking your fishnets to your knees, hauling you onto his face and barely letting you register before his tongue fucked into your soaking pussy, your eyes rolling back like his did, moaning in sync as one hand shot to the headboard and the other his hair.

His hands were so fucking reverent, gliding up your thighs, kneading them, one moving to deliver a light smack and grope to your ass, moaning when you began to grind down onto his tongue because you just couldn’t help it.

And then his hand slid up your back, around to your front, unbuttoning your plaid so his fingers could pay extra attention to your nipples (you would obviously show up to his house braless, y’all out there’d understand) as one long, thick finger thrusted up into your pussy, ring pressing against your g-spot in a way that had his name tearing from your throat.

How was normal Dean better than demon Dean? Or Deanmon. Whatever, either way, he was fucking you right.

“What if Sammy comes back, huh?” Dean growled into your cunt, licking every inch of it while he pushed a second finger into you, then a third, stretching you out and sending vibrations and electricity through your body. “Gonna give him a show, sweetheart? Show him how much you fucking need me?”

He ripped an orgasm from you, drinking it up like he was parched before flipping you over, getting your plaid off and entering you in one clean stroke while his mouth enveloped your nipple, sucking and nibbling.

“Shit, Dean!” You cried out, the first coherent sentence you could make since you rode his face and even that meant don’t you dare stop. And if any other man threatened you with exhibitionism you’d probably slap him and leave.

But this was Dean Winchester, so you’d make a thousand exceptions as long as he fucked your legs out.

He marked your neck, pounding into you like he just couldn’t help it, entwining your hands and pinning them above your head. “F-Fuck, baby girl. So tight— shit. Could fuck this pretty pussy forever.” He rolled over, putting you on top, and you took the cue to ride him, moans in tandem as Dean reached down to rub your clit. “Ride me, baby, c’mon. Give it to me, need it all. Please, need all’a you.”

Well, how could you say no?

“So good,” You panted, which earned a whimpering moan from Dean. “Gonna give it all to you, promise.” You clenching around him and his cock’s ride brushing your g-spot and all of it reaching places you didn’t know you had sent you over the edge, and before you’d realised it, he’d come before you with a strangled grunt of your name, hands moving to your hips to help you through your high despite being in it himself.

Once you’d come down from your high, and he his, you pulled off him, collapsing on the bed next to him, both of you flushed red, panting and so damn satisfied.

“C’mere.” Dean rasped, holding a hand out to you, and you were confused. The hell is he doing? “C’mere, baby.” He looked positively wrecked — you most likely did too — but that didn’t distract you.

“Why?” You tilted your head, pushing sweaty strands out from your face.

“To cuddle, why else?” Wow, he was a secure man, saying it outright like that. “I wanna hold you, sweetheart.”

He didn’t hold you as a demon. Nobody had.

So you scooted up to him, laying your head on his chest and allowing his arm to rest around your waist, other one acting as a pillow underneath his head.

Dean felt upset that demon him hadn’t taken the courtesy to hold this gorgeous woman, but now’s not the time to address that.

“Thank you, gorgeous,” He kissed your hair, “I needed that.”

𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

TAGLIST: @goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510

@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero

@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms

@b3th13

@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii

@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57

@1-800-dean-winchester

@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings

@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington

@gleefulleve @sacrosankta

@riteofpassage77 @eevvvaa @thedevilortheangel @thorsballhair @barbienotdoll

@4e1h3r @wolfieblue03 @kianaleani @vicky199625 @sassyslut2003

@impyrz @didisull @miwp @lastcallatrockysbar @rizlowwritessortof

@zepskies @angelbabyyy99 @autisticgothic

@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester

@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27

@lyarr24 @ximm19

@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester

@cheynovak @tofics

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine...Demon Dean Hunting You (Part 2)

Pairing: Demon!Dean x reader

________

An unintended consequence of hiding out in the vents as they’d blasted on full heat was you were absolutely dehydrated. Before, maybe you had a slight chance. But now? Now you were limp over Dean’s shoulder, doing your best just to breathe normally while he had his arm wrapped tightly around your middle. 

“You’ve really made this no fun, you know,” he chided, walking into the kitchen. He laid you down on the table, not too gently, staring down at you, hands on his hips. All you could do was take deep breaths through your mouth, sweat prickling across every inch of skin. Dean slid a hand to your throat, chuckling when you swallowed thickly.

His traced his thumb over your pulse point, applying the lightest of pressure.

“You shouldn’t have hidden from me, sweetheart. Look what you did to yourself.” You shuddered when he rested his hands on either side of you, leaning down and getting right in your face. He smiled, a dark awful smile that made your skin crawl. “I have another game we can play.”

He stroked your cheek as you shut your eyes. Suddenly he grabbed your jaw, digging in hard, your eyes flying open to meet black ones.

“Play the game or I snap their necks the second they walk through that door,” he growled. 

“I-I’ll play,” you croaked out, reaching for your throat when it felt like sandpaper. Dean seemed please with your answer, leaning in close and brushing his lips to your ear.

“Run.” Oh god. You didn’t want to know what that meant and forced yourself to roll off the table to the ground, smacking it with a thud. “Oooff. That looked like it hurt.”

You forced yourself to your feet, stumbling as you tried to get to the doorway. Dean’s hand caught the back of your neck before you got there though, a loud tsk falling past his lips.

“It’s like you want to get caught. Who am I to deny my sweetheart what she so clearly wants?”

“I want you to get better. This isn’t you,” you whispered, his dark chuckle rumbling through his chest. 

“This is all me. Now you come with me, and behave, or I squeeze until I hear snapping. Your choice.” You sighed, offering the scariest glare you could when he slid to your side, throwing his arm over your shoulders. He only flashed you a wicked grin and winked. “Good choice. Don’t worry either, sweetheart. Give it some time and I’ll be back to full speed. Then we’re really going to have some fun.”

[holylulusworld]

Demon Knife - Angsttober 26

Summary: You need something from Dean.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, implied abandonment, Lisa is a bitch in this one, mentions of slime (monsters), Dean being a douche, no happy ending

Trope: Friends to enemies

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

“Hey, open the door,” you’re panting heavily, but you made it to Dean’s door. Or rather his new girlfriend’s door. You harshly knock again. He just needs to help you.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” Lisa mutters behind the closed door. “I got a gun.”

“I’m a friend of Dean,” you lick your dry lips. “I’m in trouble…or not. I mean…it’s complicated.” You feel dizzier per minute. “Listen, I don’t have time to explain things. But I need to wash this stuff off me." You slur. Fuck. The slime the monsters spat at you starts working. “I need…fuck…”

“You’re drunk or on drugs. I’m not going to let you in,” she says and locks the door. “Go away. I got a child.”

“I only need water and salt to wash it off,” you lean your head against the door. “I’m not drunk, miss. I…the slime…I feel…”

You end up on the ground, darkness consuming your mind and body as loud voices lull you into sleep. You recognize one of them. It’s Dean.

 “Lis’ she doesn’t mean anything to me. Y/N is an old friend. A hunter. I guess she needs something from me. I’m not going to go with her or let her stay.”

“You shouldn’t have come here.” Great. That’s the first thing you want to hear after waking from another nightmare.

You groan and rub your tired eyes. “Y/N, you can’t come here, drunk and angry.” He shakes his head. “I got a new life.”

“Christ, you are as dull and unhelpful as your girlfriend,” you jolt up on the backseat of Baby, cursing because you are only wearing one of Dean’s old shirts. “Hello, Baby. I’ve missed you.” You pat the backseat.

Dean watches you get out of his car. He sighs and runs one hand down his face. “She’s not dull, nor unhelpful. But you came here. Drunk.”

“I wasn’t drunk,” you grunt, and stomp your foot. “It was the slime making me feel dizzy. All I needed was some water and salt. I told that bitch so.”

“She’s not a bitch either,” he grits his teeth and jerks his head toward your bag in the front seat of Baby. “You should get your shit and leave.”

“I wasn’t drunk, only influenced by the slime.” You sigh deeply. The man standing in front of you is not the man you used to know. “I came here because I need one of the books in the trunk of Baby.”

“You could’ve asked Bobby,” Dean watches you snatch your bag from the seat to get a pair of jeans and a shirt out. You strip his shirt off, throwing it at Dean. “He’s got more than enough books.”

You ignore his harsh tone and the way he watches your every move.

While he tells you it was a mistake to come here, you throw your jeans on, followed by your shoes.

“I need a specific book to find a way to kill those monsters. The last one belongs to Bobby, but Sam—” You bite your tongue. It’s the first time you have said Sam's name since he jumped into the pit to defeat the devil himself. “He took the book and it’s still in the car.”

Your voice shakes as you remember the day you and Sam bickered about the book. He wanted to read it first but gave in and let you read it first.

“I know there was a remedy to neutralize their slime, and I need Ruby's knife.”

“You came all the way out here for a book?” He cocks a brow. “Really.”

You exhale sharply through your nose. “I told you that the book is the last one. Believe me, this is the last place I want to be.”

“Why do you need the knife?” He watches you dress in the hunter’s uniform. A shirt and a plaid you stole from him years ago.

You don’t look at him. Not after what he said last night. His words still echo in your mind, and you once again tell yourself he’s not worth your tears, or the heartbreak you still feel.

“Well, with two Winchesters down, and the last one living the apple pie life, the remaining hunters must do thrice the work. Now the monsters believe they can defeat anyone. If the Winchesters can fall, or if they can make them skip out on the job, those bastards believe we are all quitters.

You sneer when Dean tries to put his hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, we talked about this. Sammy wanted me to have a normal life.”

“Yeah, but why did you…Why her?” You sniff. “I thought…maybe…” You shake your head and swallow the words burning your tongue. “Forget it. You’ve got a new life. I hope you’re happy. Now, if you just handle me the knife, I’ll be on my way.”

Holding out your hand you try to not look at Dean. “Sweetheart, maybe you should quit too?”

You chuckle bitterly at his words. “I tried, but the man I loved chose some yoga instructor chick he met once over me. So, stop acting like you care and give me the knife.”

“I-“ Dean sighs deeply. “If that’s what you want.”

“No, but it will keep me alive. Because the man promising me to always have my back left me for some other girl.”

Dean hands you the knife. He watches you grab the book from the trunk, sniffling as your eyes land on the makeshift bookmark Sam made for you stick out of the book. “Do you need anything else?”

You huff and shake your head. “I’ve got it handled. Bobby will help me bring those slimy bastards down,” you lift your eyes from the book to glare at Dean. “He’s going to have my back.”

With that, you turn your back on Dean, to stuff the book and knife into your duffle bag and sling it over your shoulder. “Y/N, wait…”

“Save it, Winchester…” you look over your shoulder. “Maybe you should change your name too. Because we all believed that Winchesters aren’t quitters. At least Sammy was brave enough to save the world…”

It’s a low blow, but you deliver it with a smirk. Dean visibly flinches at your words but doesn’t say a thing. He just stares at you, unsure if anything he says will change your opinion.

“You should tell your girlfriend to not fuck with everyone knocking at her door. Not everyone has enough impulse control to not punch her.”

You walk out of the garage, regretting only one thing. That you must leave Baby behind…

“How’d it go?” Bobby asks as you get into his car. He nods as you show him the book. “I guess now we can get rid of these slimy bastards. How’s the boy doing?”

“Plays house with his yoga instructor. He told me to leave so,” you push the tears away, “let’s roll. I don’t want to stay in his neighborhood for too long.”

“I’m sorry kiddo…”

Bobby and you took the monsters down. It was a hard fight, and you needed the help of another hunter, but you made it.

Even though it was a struggle to forget about Dean, you managed to not think about him for the better of three months.

It gets easier to not have him around, grinning goofily, while telling you a dirty joke. You almost don’t miss his enthusiasm for food, or how he sang along to the songs he loved on the car rides you miss so much.

It almost feels like you never had feelings for him. Almost. Only this dull pain remains in your chest. But it will fade soon, you’re sure about it.

One day, Dean Winchester will only be someone you used to know…