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thesilmarillionblog · 13 days ago

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𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 5

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: confessions, heavy angst, sick reader, distant Dean, insecure reader, painful, jealousy, misunderstandings, edgy

Word Count: 10.2k

A/N: English is not my first language.

Song: 'Now the One You Once Loved Is Leaving' by Lydia.

Dean was disturbed by the frantic knocking on the door and felt helpless to stop you from sobbing. He had absolutely no idea what was wrong. Minutes earlier, everything between you and him was perfect in every way. But suddenly, the moment you spent together had become an absolute misery.

If someone hadn't been beating on the door as if he were going to break it, he might have tried to talk to you about it and figure out what problem you were suffering from. The idea of pushing you made him feel quite sick. Dean believed he had worked very hard to make sure you desired this. He wouldn't have touched you in the first place if he felt even a little hesitation.

Without a doubt, you and him needed to talk about that. However, it wasn't the right time. He knew you needed a little time and you needed to get out of here right away. It hurt to see you cry like you lost someone. Once again.

Fuck the ghost.

You did your best to stop weeping, adjusted your outfit, and wiped the tears from your cheeks out of fear that someone might catch you and Dean. You felt terrible for abruptly having a breakdown and made Dean feel dreadful, spoiling the lovely night. A beautiful Halloween may have been. The perplexity on his face was palpable. You wanted to cry more at the notion of him never touching you again, but you attempted to keep your focus on the present so as not to make a scene and make things worse than they already were. Later on, you would try to explain yourself. That was something you owed him.

Dean sighed deeply and stood up, watching you wipe away your tears as your crying gradually turned into regular breathing. You tried to persuade him that you were the only one responsible for this and that it was just a moment of weakness on your side. You didn't intentionally ruin it after kissing him first.

You secretly wanted him to console you, calm you, and convince you that everything was okay and that you two could fix whatever the problem was. But he remained silent, which just increased your sense of solitude.

However, if he questioned ‘why’ how could you really explain that you were just lovesick?

You wanted to depart as quickly as possible, so you pushed yourself to stop crying before Dean got to the door and unlocked it himself. Robb was the one who was almost angrily banging on the door. When he noticed your teary, red eyes and Dean standing behind you, gazing at Robb with an obviously irate expression, his fist kicking the door stopped.

His voice was worried as he questioned, “What the hell happened to you?” Robb was clearly taken aback by your facial reaction. His fist loosened as it made contact with your arms.

You felt like you could start crying in front of them again when he gave you a comforting back rub. But since you didn't want to give yourself any more embarrassing yourself, you tried your best to smile and tell him, “I'm alright.”

Robert didn't seem to believe you, and he gave Dean a dubious look while remaining close to you and placing one of his hands on the door. “Did you just force her?” Your eyes widened in disbelief and embarrassment when Robb abruptly snapped while taking a quick glance around the room.

“Robb! Of course not!” you said in panic. You thought someone was about to start a fight when you saw Dean's expression go from one of perplexity to fury. Robb's concern for you was appreciated, but it irritated you to see him accuse Dean of committing such an awful act.

“Seriously,” Robb said, examining your face more closely while softly massaging one of your arms. He then turned to face Dean, who appeared ready to hit Robert at any moment. “What did the two of you do in that room? I became a little curious when one of my friends informed me that you two had gone straight upstairs after entering the home.”

You and Dean looked at each other. There, he was clearly caught up in an internal conflict. He gazed at Robb's arm as it brushed yours, who was acting like he was your lover. He couldn't deny how angry he was at the sight before him. A lot. To be honest, that made Dean want to smash Robert's face already. Let alone his stupid accusation, was enough of a reason for Dean to put the doctor in comatose. He would enjoy this in a very twisted way.

You hurriedly clarified, “We were just curious about the room you talked about earlier,” in the hopes that Robb would stop interrogating you and Dean. You withdrew your arm from his contact in order to set boundaries. You needed a place to relax and rest your ass because your heels were causing so much pain in your feet at the moment.

“What?” Robb asked, puzzled by your bizarre response. You would never be interested in such crap. After all, you weren't a teenager. You've also never been interested in such things before. You were a really reasonable person, as far as he knew you. “But that is not the room I have talked about. For heaven's sake... It's in the dowry. The room is completely empty, plus Jordan isn't even using it.”

As Robert crossed his arms over his chest and gave you and Dean a serious face, you felt your cheeks turn white. You felt faint when you realized that the room in which Dean had fucked you wasn't even the correct one. You were overwhelmed by fear to see Dean's face and his reaction. The only sound you heard was him taking a big breath. At this moment, you didn't want to know what he was thinking.

Dean, however, was the one who informed you that the locked room was the right one. There was nothing at all wrong with you other than starting the process by kissing him out of affection. He came up with the idea, not you. You needed to take an aspirin. You were now feeling somewhat more sick due to your headache.

When Robb opened his lips to ask additional questions that would make you feel worse, you said, “I need to use the bathroom.”

“Sure.” As he showed you where to find the restroom, then Robert said, “We'll be downstairs with Dean.”

Dean's keen gaze on Robbert was palpable. You thought you'd find the right opportunity for sorting it out later, but the need to boldly stare at his face and pretend that what happened there wasn't anything important was too strong. If only you had enough courage.

Dean wanted to rub you on the back and tell Robb to go fuck himself after seeing your weary and pale face, but he didn't want to make a scene and ruin your evening any further. Even though he didn't appreciate Robb's snobbish words, Dean only nodded to you to indicate that everything was all right. With those deadly shoes, he questioned how you were even walking. You must have been in pain based on the look on your face as you took nearly clumsy steps to the restroom. He wanted to remove them right away from your feet himself.

Fortunately for Robb, he wasn't glancing at you. If he was, he would have stared at your clothes, particularly your skirt, in a spiteful manner, such that Dean would decide to think of a reason to make a scene. Reluctantly, Dean and Robb went downstairs after they watched you go into the bathroom. A few were observing and spoke in whispers. Most of them were dressed foolishly and high as fuck. Dean came to the realization that he had no fun on Halloween. There was nothing at all enjoyable about it.

Only you and the food.

“So,” Robb remarked, passing him a cup of whiskey while they were standing near a table filled with food. His cigarette theme costume made him appear really ridiculous. Yet Robb had figured out a clever way to make use of his height. “What were you two doing up there?”

Angry when someone stepped on his cloak while he was walking by, Dean pulled it to himself. He didn't respond to Robb and kept piling food on his plate for you and him before he consumed a whole pie. In order for you to share in the small feast, he hoped you were hungry. That might make things less awkward between you.

“Isn't it obvious?” As he proceeded to choose sweets to place on his tray, Dean eventually winked. You would love that desert.

“She's not into crap things. I know that,” Robb said with certainty. Dean was getting irritated by his cocky and confident appearance. Even though he was making every effort to avoid saying anything offensive, he had a suspicion that Robb was doing it on purpose. When you were around, he was a little different.

“Then you don't know her.”

“I do know she's a very sensitive and reasonable person,” he said. “She couldn't possibly want to go inside that room and see herself if it is haunted indeed.” Robb took a sip of his whiskey and said "hi" to a few visitors passing by him. Dean seemed irritated at hearing Robb's assurance when mentioning you.

Robert had no idea who you really were, no matter how long you had been friends. He has never witnessed you hunting beasts or ghosts. He was clueless.

“You have no idea,” Dean answered simply, looking at him intently.

“I know her for a long time,” Robb said, sounding almost aggressive. When someone else walked on his cloak again, Dean became irritated and stopped putting food on his plate, pulling his clothing about his arm. “More than you.”

Dean replied, “Don’t talk like you know a shit,” with the same fury. He wondered whether that person was attempting to irritate him so that Dean would punch him in the face, cause a scene in front of you, and so forth. He would have kicked his ass already if he hadn't realized that he was your best buddy, which was dreadful enough.

“You must know,” Dean said, turning to face him with a cunning grin. “There, she showed a lot of curiosity. She wanted to see herself if the rumors were true, and I'm a really encouraging and helpful friend.”

Robb froze at Dean's implication. He was still in touch with your life and choices since you and him never lost contact. You weren't the type to keep significant information from him, especially those who you were interested in. Well, for a long time, you weren't into anybody, so Robert became tense with skepticism as a result of Dean's inappropriate imply. Robb was aware that you would have discussed it over the phone or via text if that guy was that significant and the things he intimated were true. Robb was aware that you were still untouched. He never criticized you for something like that, though it was still unexpected. He respected you.

He was aware that you wanted it to be with someone you loved and cared about, which Robb deeply valued. That's why he was annoyed by Dean's remarks. That man had no shame.

Robb said, almost menacingly, “Be careful what you're talking about,” and Dean took a deep breath to keep his composure. He could tell that the night was coming to an end, with him smashing his nerdy face.

“That's what happened. Both of us were enjoying ourselves there and were a bit curious. Until you showed up,” Dean went on. He wanted Robb to initiate the fight so he could smash an empty plate on his thick idiot head. Dean was no longer smiling. When Dean first saw this man with you that evening, he knew he was going to be a pain in the ass.

“The way she looked was different.”

With a harsh tone, Dean demanded that Robb stop talking so much. “She's fine.” If there was someone else to talk to, it would be better, but Dean just couldn't walk away, knowing Robb would talk to you nonstop. He wondered what you were doing up there.

Robb was right when he said that you weren't at all okay, but Dean chose not to consider that. He couldn't help but notice how fragile and pale you were. Dean didn't understand what actually happened between you. He couldn't remember exactly who made the first move since he was inside of you so abruptly. But it didn't matter. What mattered was the root cause of your extreme sensitivity, which Dean was unable to fully grasp. It was just a wonderful moment, he thought—a chance for you to enjoy yourself in your own hunter ways. Twisted, but hot.

Having sex in a room he believed to be haunted was hellish, but it felt thrilling with you. He had fucked Jo once or twice weeks prior while they were on a ghost hunt, but it had been quick and not quite what Dean was hoping for. He couldn't find the satisfaction he was searching for. Maybe you simply loathed the environment you were in. A warm bed surely would make you feel better. Dean would think about this later.

Given that Dean was either obstinate or an egoistic jerk, Robb inhaled deeply. Dean gave him a proud, secure appearance, and he was undoubtedly aware that he looked good. Robert couldn't help but wonder whether you've been feeling anything recently for an ignorant man like him. But it was difficult to believe that you would genuinely fall in love with someone so egotistical and reckless.

“I know her limits.” Robb didn't say anything too direct to put you in a bad position, only remarked, “We've been friends for too long. And I can say that she wouldn't be possibly keen on lowering such boundaries with a man like you.”

The man in front of Robb continued to make overly explicit comments, so Robb's tone was harsher than he had expected.

“I'm good at destroying stuff, and believe me, there are no other men like me.” Dean waited for you to arrive while checking the stairs. He made sure the plate was stuffed. He was about to punch the man in front of him. He was able to cure himself. So he needed you.

Robb let out a little sigh as he saw Dean was still giving the impression that you were actually interested in him, doing such crap things with him there. But once he saw your fragile, sobbing face, he refused to ignore it and go on

“Cut this off.” Robb said, “She's not like other women you met before,” in a tone so irate that Dean dropped his dish on the table with a harsh move. He was annoyed, surprised by the nerd's anger. He was absolutely trying Dean to make a scene.

“Say something else and I'll break your face,” Dean said, showing his frustration beyond control. In order to inform you that he knocked your friend unconscious in self-defense, he waited for Robb to initiate the fight since the atmosphere was tense. It would only be a defensive move. Reasonably harmless.

Robb's jaw tightened as well, sensing Dean's growing rage. He wasn't scared of that kind of man. But it was unsettling how he didn't give a damn and just concentrated on himself, regardless of what was going on. Robert wasn't sure whether that man was aware that you were still a virgin, but he didn't want to place you in a difficult situation.

“Do you even give a damn about what she is?” Almost in a bored whisper, Robb asked. He was aware that he needed to learn some things. He answered the inquiry as politely as he could, hoping you were still okay and Dean was just playing tricks on him about you.

When Robb asked an absurd question, Dean scowled. He was aware that you were a hunter and an orphan. One of the most sensitive and intimate aspects of your life was that. Dean didn't bring up the topic of your family so as not to upset you. Robb was more foolish than Dean had believed if he had been talking about this.

To demonstrate that he knew you well, Dean remarked, “I know that she's an orphan,” almost in a whisper. Dean was pleased that the doctor was unaware that you were a hunter. He was and would never be that close to you. You were also closer to Dean than anybody could be. Maybe that shouldn't have made him feel proud, but it did.

“She's...untouched,” Robb said. Before he spoke, he peered upstairs. “A virgin. Thus—”

“You lie,” Dean intervened, his fist clenched in what he believed to be an attempt to get Dean to kick his ass. He couldn't possibly be speaking the truth.

Robb was genuinely lecturing Dean, as he was deep in thought. Dean was by himself in front of the table when he heard that he had finally vanished when one of his friends greeted him and drew him to meet others. He drank one glass after another while reminiscing about the first time he fucked you. Dean was certain that he waited long enough before escalating the situation because you didn't say anything before he pushed himself inside of you.

“I wasn't surprised that seeing that face of yours,” Robb said, taking a step back and smiling while sipping his whiskey. “So you keep that attitude to yourself when she's around and stop embarrassing her by implying stupid things.”

Drinking from a glass wasn't enough, so Dean grabbed a bottle of whiskey and started to sip it while still thinking about the time he spent with you. He was aware that you hadn't seen anyone in a while. Because he believed you might wanted more than just being attracted to someone and that your loss for your family was still raw, he didn't ask you the reason that he hasn't seen you with anybody since you first met. It was good you let him touch you as he liked it, but he couldn't have predicted that you were still...virgin until he touched you.

He took a frustrated breath, disturbed that you didn't even provide him with such crucial information. He was unable to explain the rage that was clenching his jaw.

Dean attempted to figure out why you wouldn't have given him such an important thing, but he was unable to come up with a suitable explanation. He made an effort to ignore the pictures of how he had fucked you quick the first time. But he wasn't sure if he would follow through if he knew. That wasn't important to know, though. There was no way he could take it back.

As you watched him sip from a bottle of whiskey, lost in the moment, you muttered, “Dean?”

After cleansing yourself, you felt a little better, but the nausea remained. Your face was still pale, so you wondered whether you were sick. It may have been the cold weather. It could have been better to bring a hoodie or anything else. Your legs were unsteady from the things Robert told you. However, it didn't feel like the right time to bring it up. For a genuine conversation, you and Dean must be alone. You felt terrible at the thought of him being irritated about your sudden collapse when he was literally inside of you.

Since he was unaware that you were by his side, you softly rubbed his arm to draw his attention to you. He finally gave you a glance. For a moment, he appeared rather perplexed.

“Where is Robb?”

He responded, “I-,” but then he arched an eyebrow and dropped the bottle on the table while still examining it between his hands. He seemed startled. You were curious about how much he had already consumed. His mouth was never empty. “I guess he's spending his time with his friends.”

“Alright,” you said, concerned about the change in his behavior.

You picked one of the sweets that looked so good off the table to ease the tension between you. Perhaps the nausea was brought on by the fact that you hadn't eaten anything since the morning. Dean was observing you with a serious expression on his face as you chewed it slowly. You would say he got frustrated if you didn't know him.

After swallowing a little portion, you placed the piece in your palms on the table and said, “Is everything okay?” When Dean's focused gaze was making you feel uneasy, it was difficult to enjoy anything.

“Yeah.”

After finding out the truth about you, Dean couldn't help but feel a little strange about you. He just didn't know how to continue processing things with you without causing you any more pain.

He glanced around for a moment before asking abruptly, “Do you want to leave?”

You were hoping to meet Robert's buddy, the home's owner, and have a chat with him, but Dean didn't seem interested in striking up a conversation. To be honest, you didn't either. You could tell from the experience that you were about to become sick and your heels and feet were hurting. Just going back home would be nicer.

“Yeah, but what about the ghost?”

To be honest, ghosts and hunts didn't really interest you right now. Regarding what happened thirty minutes ago, there were more serious problems between you and Dean that needed attention. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. Dean was obviously annoyed, too, based on how he looked. You had to tell him you were the only one responsible. You may tell him that you were simply stressed because of the atmosphere. Nothing more.

Dean just muttered, “I'll think about it later,” and he watched you expectantly to see whether you were prepared to go. He then took the plate he had prepared for both of you.

“Alright.”

Dean held the plate of food and the bottle of whiskey as he walked you to his car. It poured. You offered to drive since you were worried he could be a little drunk, but he told you he was okay and didn't drink that much. You didn't say anything to lighten the thick air between you. You could only see his stern face, staring at the dark road.

You felt somewhat nervous since he was so focused. It would have been simpler for you to discuss what occurred if he had spoken or if he had been feeling a little chatty. But you were too afraid to speak up and worsen the situation. While he was driving, none of you spoke. He didn't even glance at you.

When you thought Dean would just leave, he came after you. “You are welcome to stay if you so want. It's pouring outside,” you said as soon as you took off your heels and set the plate on the kitchen sink. It was so nice to be rid of those heels that you almost moaned with joy. Even though you hurried to get inside the car because of the heavy rain, your clothes and hair were soaked. You had to change before you became sick.

Dean shut the door behind him, and you watched him with excitement. “Okay.”

Exhaling with relief and delight, you pressed your smile back even though he didn't sound happy at all. The sounds, the rain, and the darkness brought back memories of your first intimate moments a few weeks prior.

As you saw him take off his wet cloak, you ran to the bathroom and got two towels for the two of you. “You can use the bathroom,” you said, leaving him behind as he dried himself and entered your room. Several times Dean and Sam had spent the night at your apartment, so he had clothes.

Dean was confused and unsure of what to do as he nodded, not knowing how to get answers about the the truth. Robert could have been lying to him, but he needed to be sure and make you explain yourself. He couldn't ignore it any longer.

You quickly took off your costume and panties while Dean was changing there, dressing before he left the restroom. Even though you were still feeling a bit sick, you made an effort to keep yourself energetic. You were curious about whether he would sleep in your bed or on the coach when he walked in, but you didn't ask since you wanted to let him do as he pleased. Imagining him lying beside you was making your heart race with joy and delight. You needed that so much; your soul was yearning. You noticed that Dean was looking at you through the mirror as you were removing makeup from your face. You pondered why he continued staring at you with such seriousness.

You both understood that you had got to solve the issue before it became too difficult to fix.

Dropping your stuff, you got up from the chair and looked around excitedly. It would feel better if he was a bit chatty.

Even though you weren't sure whether it was the right way for expressing how you were feeling at the moment, you eventually said, “I'm sorry.” The fact that his expression didn't soften at all made your heart beat. He appeared to be seeking an answer as he gazed at you. “I was just a little stressed out there.”

Dean took a long breath. “I should have confirmed the room was the right one. It's my fault. I was just rushing.”

“Really, Dean, no. I just... Of course, what Robert told was false, and it was rude of him to say something like that. He must be drunk or something. The details Robb revealed about the murder made me a little uncomfortable and worried. I should have acted with more professionalism.” You inhaled deeply and considered approaching him, but the way he was staring at you kept you still. “I'm really sorry for ruining it. Can’t we just act like it didn’t happen?”

Satisfied with the way you express yourself, you awaited the reply. You wanted him to see how much you truly wanted and looked for closeness with him, to know that you were prepared to be touched or taken anytime he wished to. Yet you wondered if Dean was genuinely open to seeing you, real you. He must have known that you would never turn him down. Whatever he wanted to forget about, he needed to know that you were willing to let it go. Your heart was aching for the times when he was closer to you, and the distance between you was shredding your soul in two.

He said, “Professional,” with a faint smile that never made it to his lips. Before he spoke, Dean took a moment to glance around. “How long has it been since you dated someone?”

You didn't seem to understand at all, despite Dean's best efforts to avoid asking in an aggressive manner so as not to shame you.

“Years ago maybe,” you said in an ashamed whisper. You were perplexed by his query, but if he needed clarification, then it was fine. “As you are aware, a lot has happened, and recently I have been too busy. Hunting monsters, ghosts, and my job—” you attempted to explain. These were undoubtedly just excuses, but how in the world could you tell him the truth when he appeared to be ready to judge you at any moment?

There was no reason for you to risk your friendship with him.

Your vague response caused Dean's eyes to narrow. He was aware that going forward, he would have to ask questions directly. “How recently did you have sex? Before me. When was the last time?”

When Dean asked you questions, your body tightened. You could sense the tension in the air as he drew closer. As he got closer, you should have felt better. It didn't. You pondered what precisely he and Robb talked about while you were away. You saw him get closer while lying. “A while.” You sounded a little harsh since you didn't like being asked such questions all of a sudden. However, you wanted to patch things up with him.

“When?”

You muttered angrily, “Why do you ask such questions now?” as he closely examined the response you gave.

“Why are you not answering?” You felt trapped as Dean approached gradually, unsure of why he had suddenly begun to inquire about your private life.

If everything between you was alright, you would be thrilled to see him coming closer, but the way he asked you in a tone that was almost harsh made your body tense with worry and stress. To put some distance between you and him, you stepped back and placed your hands on the chair's head.

“Yes, I responded. It's been a while,” you said, refusing to give in to his dark stare that was crushing your soul. “Not everyone is obsessed with daily hookups like you, Dean, and I'm a busy person.”

You tried to maintain your calm by maintaining eye contact, but after a while your eyes wandered the room as if you were trying to walk away. Your inference didn't appear to be bothering him. He wouldn't be bothered, of course.

Dean stated abruptly “Robert told me that you are a virgin,” and he briefly closed his eyes. “were.”

Your knees felt shaky, and your face turned pale as he maintained his curiosity-driven eyes on you. You opened your mouth to speak, but you had no idea how to convince him that he was mistaken. When Dean revealed to you that Robert had informed him of such a private matter, you felt a surge of rage, but you were too perplexed to figure out how to handle the situation. You hated Robb. You hated him and Dean for discussing such a private subject while you were away.

“He's lying,” you whispered. Your voice was hardly heard, even though you meant to sound harder and more resolute.

“Robb is your closest pal. You told me this, remember? And now you're telling me he's lying,” Dean said. Indicating that he didn't believe you at all, he raised an eyebrow. “Why would he lie about something like that?”

“Why does it even matter?” You snapped, no longer willing to discuss Robb or anything about yourself.

Your question can be interpreted as a kind of acceptance. Your eyes met Dean's as your pulse pounded with nervousness. Dean was staring at you in confusion, as though he was trying to figure out what had actually happened. It was no longer necessary for you to even admit. Dean knew Robb was right.

He was too blind to see it, even though he should have recognized it from the start when he rethought the specifics of your private moments, from how you felt extremely tight and how you hadn't seen anybody in a year. Taking a deep breath to keep his composure, Dean realized that if Robb didn't tell him, he would never know the truth.

“It does matter. You should have told me.”

“You're just exaggerating. I didn't want to inform you later and put you under any physiological pressure. It isn't that important,” you asserted. In anxiety, your fingers had gripped the chair behind you hard. You attempted to speak it out and seem normal while your heart was pounding and your legs felt weak, but Dean's reactions made it much more difficult. You weren't worried about your virginity at all.

He abruptly replied, “You could have told me beforehand,” raising his voice just enough to make you gasp. He moved closer until he was standing in front of you, staring into your teary eyes. “Have you given any thought to whether I would want to take your virginity? Why are you not answering?” He was so close that you could blow up because of the pressure he put on you.

Since it was one of the reasons you didn't tell him in the first place, it would be dishonest to convince yourself that it was what you expected. It's unlikely that Dean was aware of your want to spend your first time with him and your lone hope that he would grow to like you more later on. You were afraid that he may misinterpret your motivations and actions, even if the deed wasn't done with any cunning.

Your fingers loosened, and you released the chair with a disappointed heart. As you spoke to him, you were clutching onto the chair so tightly that you were unaware of it. Your fingers hurt. You questioned why he didn't treat you the same way he treated Jo. Were you worse? Did you not have any lovely features? You struggled to find the right words to soothe him as he gave you an irritated expression. But given how awful the night was, he had to be the one to soothe you.

You felt horrible and guilty.

“Dean, it's not really that special. Just.. heat of the moment.” To ease the tension between you, you tried to smile at him and added, “Don't think that I was expecting something when I decided to give it to you.”

“Good,” he said immediately before you were able to respond. You wondered why he was so frustrated because of the harsh and aloof tone of his voice. It couldn't be bound to what you hadn't revealed earlier. He could have felt somewhat guilty, but you were there to assure him it didn't matter.

“Otherwise it would have gone to waste.”

This time, you struggled to contain your emotions since you were so devastated. You hated the way he treated you tonight; you could hardly restrain yourself from losing it again and looking stupid in front of him. All you wanted was for him not to feel under strain, so you never said anything. However, once he found out, he couldn't ignore something that was so personal. After learning, however, he must have felt pressured.

The yearning to keep him away was stronger than the need to stay close to him. Was it too much to want to sleep next to him in a warm mattress in the final days of October? Your heart clenched when you realized that he was okay with doing even more intimate things with Jo and other women. He wasn't generous with you.

Dean couldn't help but feel regret for what he said as he saw your joyful look for a few moments before gradually waning and becoming filled with agony. His pride prevented him from saying anything, even though he wanted to apologize and comfort you. The fact that your first Halloween turned out to be somewhat terrible evening was awful. This was not what he had intended. You didn't either.

Dean was overwhelmed as he observed your teary eyes idly looking into the room as if you were making an effort to make things better. He was no longer sure how to go with you. And he was unaware that he had gotten close enough that he could practically feel your hard breathing on his lips. If he took control, he could capture your lips and complete the task you began in that room an hour ago. Dean was confident you wouldn't turn him down and offer yourself to him again. He was tempted to move and let go of the tension that was driving him insane. If he lacked the strength to control his urges, he would have made the first move once again.

Since you didn't feel at ease in a stranger's bed, he was happy to take you to a warm bed. That could settle your disagreements. His mind and feelings, however, pushed him to fulfill none of them.

Dean became perplexed when he noticed that you were still staring at him expectantly and that neither of you had moved. The way you looked at his lips and then at his face with a pained expression as if you were about to kiss him made him even more confused. He was aware that he would respond to your kiss immediately, without a second thought. When he realized you were even a little bit closer now, he almost gasped. He was unaware of whether or not you were doing this intentionally.

You were able to whisper, “I'm going to sleep,” because you didn't want to talk about it any more for fear that he would hurt you further and not care about how you were feeling. You felt the rejection in your flesh and bones. Although it was hard to believe, Dean didn't care about you or how difficult it was for you to confess something so personal; you were desperately attempting to convince him that it didn't matter. He called it 'waste'.

Even worse, if he chose to sleep on your bed, on your side, you would still be too weak to feel peaceful. There was no need to disregard the cruel things he said to you or the way he looked at you, or to deny that your bound had weakened.

Dean stepped back. He said, “I guess the rain has stopped,” as you swiftly climbed your bed and moved away from him not to be seen.

Because you no longer wanted to look him in the eye, you turned your face toward the window and listened to the rain decreasing in pace. If you hadn't talked at all and he had simply been lying next to you, it would have been perfect to stay silent and let your bodies speak. As you wrapped the blanket around your cold body, you let your tears wet your pillow, knowing he would no longer see your expression. You didn't make a noise.

Nothing happened while you waited for him to lay down next to you and cover half of his body with the blanket. The only sounds you heard were Dean leaving your house and the faint sound of the door shutting behind him. When you heard him driving away, you repressed your feelings for him.

You couldn't contain your tears any longer and pressed your face against your pillow, sobbing aloud only as you were certain he had left. Knowing that you had no one to worry about who would find out that you were a pathetic lovesick sobbing over a man who didn't even treat you the same way he treated any of his hookups was almost nice. You didn't feel upset at Robb, but you did feel angry with yourself for not being honest with Dean from the very beginning. He should have been the one who soothed you and put things right, just as you were attempting to do.

Seeing him not try to maintain your friendship was the most painful thing. Everything appeared so simple to sort out, but his behavior made it hard to repair whatever had been damaged between you. So be it.

Your cries became sobbing, which in turn became harder to breathe as his words repeated in your head. You fell asleep on your wet pillow just as your headache was becoming worse and you were too exhausted to continue crying.

Your nightmares prohibited you from getting a good night's sleep, and you kept waking up in the middle of the night to see if Dean had texted or called. You checked your own temperature, and you realized that the chilly weather wasn't the only reason you were feeling unwell.

You understood from your experience that the sickness was also caused by your mental health and heartbreak. You considered skipping work today, but it would be best to keep yourself occupied. In order to forget what had happened, you wanted to work for hours on end without even taking a break.

Before you left the house and forced yourself to eat something so you could take some medicine, you saw the plate Dean had set out for you in the kitchen, along with a bottle of whiskey. Your mind was overflowing with bad memories, so you threw the plate full of sweets in the trash can without giving it a second thought. You could drink whiskey another time.

Even though Dean tried to keep his thoughts busy, he had trouble falling asleep. He kept checking his phone throughout the night and considered calling or messaging you to talk it out, but he lacked the bravery and didn't want to wake you up because he knew you were pretty worn out and would be at work the next day.

Dean was sitting on the coach, whirling the phone nervously in his hands, sometimes checking the screen, when Sam arrived home in the morning. He assumed you were busy working at the moment.

“Hey,” Sam murmured while stretching his muscles. He scowled when he saw Dean consumed in his thoughts and still staring at his phone screen. “Are you waiting for a call?”

“What?” Dean said, confused. Sam was there, making himself some coffee, but he didn't even realize when he came.

“You keep looking at your phone.”

Dean defended himself by giving Sam an angry expression. “I'm not,” he said.

“So how did it go?” Sam sat on the couch and handed Dean a cup of coffee as well. He felt wonderful since he wasn't expecting his Halloween to be so joyful and enjoyable with Ruby. But Dean looked like he had been struck by a car. It was obvious he didn't get much sleep, Sam could tell. “You two got the job done?”

“No.” Dean just thought about the job you didn't finish in bed, even though he knew Sam was asking about hunting the Halloween ghost. Thus, his answer could work in both ways.

“Why?”

“It was locked,” Dean lied, unwilling to talk about the night before.

“So you're telling me that you couldn't find a way to unlock it?” Sam's lighthearted tone made Dean tense, but he attempted to dismiss the image of your fragile look by taking a long breath to relax. Since you didn't seem good yesterday, he questioned whether you had become sick.

When his brother offered him a broad grin that made him want to bite his skull, Dean smiled and said, “Will you stop acting like a bitch?”

Sam gave up, not wanting to discuss the specifics in the morning. “Fine,” he sighed. “How is Y/N doing? She has not responded to my texts since yesterday. Did you leave the party too late?”

“Yeah, it was late.”

“How was your Halloween?” Dean asked so that the topic be changed. Since he wasn't particularly good at lying, he would undoubtedly tell Sam everything that had happened yesterday once he had any suspicions. Yet he didn't feel like listening to his little brother's lecture.

“It was all right, but since you couldn't handle a single ghost, I suppose I should have accompanied you and Y/N,” Sam teased him. “It's unbelievable that you couldn't unlock a single door.”

Rather than arguing with Sam and letting him get under his skin with his grin, Dean remained silent and let his brother continue his teasing. Sam's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he saw Dean was no longer defending himself or fighting back, but he didn't ask him any questions. When Dean didn't fuck someone during an enjoyable night, he looked just like this. He would eventually tell him if there was anything else, or Sam would speak with you and find out himself.

The sound of a notification on Sam's phone caused Dean to turn toward him as Sam sipped the coffee in quiet. Dean continued to swirl his phone expectantly between his palms. Perhaps he should instead phone you or leave a message, but his pride prevented him from doing so. Yet his body ached to see you and talk to you.

It was absurd that he had been thinking about you nonstop since yesterday. In fact, he had been experiencing it for the past few weeks. He was unable to recall the precise moment it began, but it was driving him insane. Even in the most absurd situations, his mind kept thinking about you, which was crazy. Dean felt uneasy now that he had left your house after a somewhat little argument.

While he stared at the screen, Sam said, “It looks like she'll be working all day.”

“Did she text you?” With his gaze focused on Sam's fingers that were rapidly messaging you, Dean asked, his hands stopping to swirl his phone and waiting for the same notification.

“Yeah,” Sam said while continuing to message you. As Dean watched his brother with a dissatisfied expression, the click sounds began to irritate him, and his boots began tapping the floor nonstop.

Dean's fingers waited on the screen before tapping a thing when he checked his phone again and saw you online, but he instantly changed his mind since he was unsure of what to type.

After tasting his own nasty smell, which caused him to frown in disgust, Sam finally put his phone down on the table and walked to the bathroom. Dean couldn't resist swiping Sam's phone and quickly checking it to see how you were or what you were doing just after he made sure his brother had closed the door. He hoped that you wouldn't actually be working all day. He might come to your place to fix things, or he may invite you. It was crazy how you avoided talking for so long. He couldn't even recall the last time you hadn't sent texts to each other for so long.

Fortunately, it was easy to go through the texts because he knew Sam's password. In any case, he wouldn't care. Dean read the texts, biting his lip, in which you told Sam that you were going to be working all day, that you were doing well, that Halloween went off well—all of which were complete lies—and so on. Dean typed without even realizing what he was doing since he assumed it was your lunchtime.

Just as he was about to put the phone down, the phone rang, prompting Dean to answer immediately to avoid Sam's interruption. He took a long breath and waited for you to say something. He felt like a teenager, with his heart pounding on his chest. With nervousness, Dean put his hands in his pockets and stood up from the coach.

“For God's sake, Sam,” you complained, “you've been typing for minutes.” All Dean was hearing were metallic sounds and fork sounds.

At last, he cleared his throat and said, “Sam is in the bathroom.”

You weren't expecting to hear Dean's voice. You swallowed as you recalled his cruel words and how he had abandoned you the day before. The food in front of you didn't appear to be as enjoyable as it had a few minutes before. You were no longer hungry. At least these hectic hours enabled you to forget about the argument between you and Dean, even if you've been working nonstop since the morning and the patients were especially challenging today. However, your longing for Dean's voice caused your heart to tighten once again, meaning that all of your efforts to forget were in vain.

Even though you didn't want to, you said, “Alright,” in a cold tone, as you were ready to end the call. Even at such a distance, you could feel the thick air between you. Being that way with him knowing that he had been inside of you hours before was insane. You were close and yet so far away.

Dean immediately said, “Wait, wait,” which caused you to pause. You patiently awaited till he spoke.

While Dean collected his thoughts on what to say, he took his hand out of his pocket and gripped the chair almost anxiously, his rough fingers clenched around it.

He said, “When does your shift end today?” When you informed his brother that you had been working all day, he hoped you weren't being honest. Otherwise, Dean didn't want the gap between you growing, and it would be hard to get together to talk about the matter immediately. He was going crazy from the uncertainty and your cold manner. The worst part was that he was aware of your best efforts to fix it.

Dean simply shut you out yesterday.

“I'll be working the whole day.”

“Why?”

“Because.” He acted as though nothing had transpired between you, and you were annoyed by it. You simply said, “That's what I was told.”

Dean frowned as he considered what to do. He had the option to see you at the hospital, but he doubted that it would be a good idea to discuss such sensitive subjects amongst ill patients while you were attempting to do your job responsibilities. And it didn't make sense that you would be working constantly just after Halloween night. You had to take a break. He wished to know whether you considered taking a day off.

“Tomorrow?” Dean asked softly. The first letters of your names that had been carved on the table were now being traced by his fingertips. He continued to touch your name softly on it unconsciously.

“I'll be working heavily this week.” You didn't want to be alone in your house thinking about Dean all the time. Although working full-time for a week would be extremely hard on your body and you were obviously exhausted, at least your mind would be occupied and you wouldn't be gradually thinking about Dean, creating fake scenarios in your head to overcome pain.

But your soul and mind desired to see him. When you heard his voice, it didn't make sense to do whatever you could to keep being upset with him. There could be a way to make things better. But like you, he had to listen to you and consider the situation from your perspective first.

Dean's jaw tightened in irritation and his hands halted. Now, what sort of shift was that? He was about to question whether you were lying again or if this was something you were doing on purpose, but he immediately changed his mind so as not to annoy you further.

You didn't wait for Dean to finish speaking when one of your colleagues said something. “Okay, I gotta go.” The longer you waited, the more anticipation filled your heart, making you feel even more sick.

Dean's lips opened to get you to stop, but it was too late. His mind was racing with ideas and plans on how to find a way to free up some time for you so that you could spend time together. He didn't move for a moment. He was aware that if he let go, you would grow apart and eventually lose sight of the initial reason for your small fight. He didn't want that.

Although he was still upset that you had withheld such crucial information from him, he needed to hear you out and understand your point of view. If he thought it was as unimportant as you said, you would have already started seeing other guys.

Dean was a little proud that you felt at ease sharing such an important thing with him, even if he hadn't understood the reason for it. He wasn't particularly proud of the way he hurried and didn't take his time to make it perfect for you, though. He couldn't even see your face properly since it was quite dark, even if he was doing everything properly. It still angered Dean to know that he would never have known if Robb hadn't told him yesterday. You couldn't determine that on your own and expect him to act normally about it. You have to understand him as well.

However, it didn't mean that you couldn't fix that problem.

Dean knew that you could become sensitive at times.

Your body ached from too much work as the days went by. Your body and mind were begging with you to take a break, and patients were being too much lately. You slept at the hospital at times and didn't even return home. Those naps were brief and of little use. You definitely needed to get plenty of rest till your body healed. The good news is that, as you had anticipated, Dean eventually left your thoughts. You just concentrated on resting. You washed your face again, looked in the mirror, and made the decision to spend tonight at home. Taking medications to force your body to work that hard wasn't a good idea.

You ignored Robb's warnings. You couldn't help but be irritated by his tone of voice, as though he hadn't told Dean the most intimate detail about your life. You blamed yourself just as much as you blamed him, since you should never have told him in the first place.

When you noticed Sam and Dean at the entrance after you had finished treating another patient and had given him and his girlfriend a ghostly smile, you could not move because their faces were covered in blood.

“Sam!” you said as you hurried over to accompany him, and your colleague looked at you bewildered. He appeared to be a complete mess. He wouldn't often visit the hospital for such injuries, but you were glad he did.

“Hey,” he said, scowling as he attempted to grin at you. His jaw tightened in pain. While you checked on Sam, you requested your colleague to look after Dean. You got the message from Sam's gaze when you asked him what had happened. Compared to Sam, Dean didn't appear as bad. You really didn't want to talk to him or feel brave enough to look him in the eye.

As you attempted to help him, you made him lie down and lifted his t-shirt. After all, it wasn't the first time. He had a little cut. But if Ruby saw it, she would lose her mind.

Your heart was racing as your colleague questioned Dean. You were unable to take your eyes off of them, and you noticed that Dean gave her a quick reply while continuing to stare at you.

Realizing that Sam's condition wasn't very serious, Dean offered the nurse to change her place with you, who was attempting to do her job by cleansing his hand of blood before stitching. You went straight to Sam without even looking at Dean properly, which slightly wounded his pride. Although he didn't care for himself, he assumed you would be curious about how he was doing.

Dean's heart melted when he saw how exhausted you were, how messy your hair was, and how completely messed up you looked. He was on the verge of losing it since you had been neglecting him for so long. And he nearly forgot what went wrong between you when he saw you in front of him, dressed in your sweet nurse clothing. None of them mattered at that moment.

When Dean called your name, you didn't look at him until your colleague, who was annoyed by Dean's actions, joined you. You let her look after Sam after apologizing to her with a bashful smile. Sam's wounded gaze was full of inquiry when you apologized to him as well, but he didn't care and simply huffed when he heard Dean making some noise. He believed that his brother had made an attempt to flirt with the nurse. There were times when he was very embarrassing.

While you examined Dean's wounded hand, you attempted to straighten your untidy hair with your wrist. It brought up memories of the day you were wounded. The whole thing was almost ironic. Your face grimaced as you saw how deep the cut was, and you noticed that your fingers lingered on his hand in a gentle manner, as if you were attempting to ease his suffering. Yet there were no sounds coming from him.

His voice was a whisper, “Hey,” as he sat on the stretcher. When you realized it was your first face-to-face encounter since that terrible night, your face instantly heated.

Once you finally turned to face him, you said, “How that happened?”

“One of the hunts didn't go quite well. It's not serious.”

You said, “It looks a little serious though,” as you began to take care of him. You were nearly as tall as him when he sat. You nearly forgot about everything when he looked at you. You had missed him. You had missed having a fairly casual conversation with him.

Dean said, “You've been very busy these days,” after noticing that you were suddenly overly focused. “I tried reaching out to you many times.”

“I needed some time alone,” you responded without trying to come up with an excuse to get him to talk to you about it.

Stating, “I hoped... We could talk about it,” Dean watched you intently to see all of your facial expressions. His heart was filled with anguish at how weary you sound. You wouldn't push him away with such determination if he didn't leave that night. He was unable to figure out how much his words had caused you to work so long and not want to go home.

Knowing what Dean was talking about, your cheeks reddened with guilt as he brought up the issue between you. You heard him groan in pain as your hands became a bit sloppy. He tried to create no sound by clenching his jaw, but he failed. You whispered sadly, “Sorry,” as one of your hands touched his compassionately. If there were nothing wrong between you, you would most likely give it a gentle kiss.

Dean immediately answered, “It's okay,” and his little smile made you glance at him to check whether he was telling the truth.

Whispering, “I'm really sorry, Dean,” You meant it. Even though it was difficult and uncomfortable, you had to speak to Dean about what had happened and ask him if he would be okay taking your virginity. Even if you felt different, you were still just close friends. You didn't intend to put pressure on him to inform him or make him find out your situation after you had sex. You'd never do that.

Once you gazed at him with sorrowful eyes, his lips parted in surprise. As you were stitching his injured hand, he had no intention of starting this conversation like this, yet here you were. Perhaps you were feeling relaxed at that particular time, and Dean didn't want to ruin that vulnerable moment.

“It's all right.” He tried to show that he was ready to sort out the matter between you and let the barrier fall through his words quietly, “I didn't mean to hurt you.” It felt right; you were so close to each other. He hardly ever slept because of how you let the distance between you grow every day.

As he spoke softly and urged you to look at him, your heart was pounding. It was crazy how things you believed to be serious and from which you would never fully recover now appeared trivial. Less than five words and a little effort, and they were all gone. You relaxed and took a long breath.

“I just need to know why you did this in the first place,” Dean stated. His voice remained warm and compassionate, as if he genuinely wanted to fully understand you and was prepared to consider the situation from your point of view. You waited for him to continue, as you were almost done tending to his wounds. “Why did you share such an intimate thing with me without even telling me who you were?”

You remained silent until you had gently wrapped his hand with a bandage and finished treating it. Your heart raced as you two waited in quiet, oblivious to everyone and everything around you as if nothing else mattered. You couldn't help but apply extremely gentle strokes to touch his palm where it wasn't injured because it was such a tender moment. By the way he stared at you, you could see that your behavior astonished him.

You realized then that you had gone too far to turn back. The damage was too severe to fix. Whoever had first wrecked the other one didn't matter. However, your feelings were certain about him. You knew that your feelings for him remained unchanged no matter how hard you tried or how many hours you spent trying to forget about him and what had transpired. No matter how hard you try to get away from it, the feelings he evoked in you when you gazed into his eyes and he gazed back at you will always be with you. There was no escape.

Your hands ceased rubbing Dean's hand as you looked at his face. He called your name again to get a response. This time, you stared at him without blinking and took a deep breath with a heavy heart.

“I love you.”

Taglist: @midnightpearlaurora @procrastination20 @faiirynyaa @deangirl96 @steelthespooder @t1asstuff @slut-for-evans-stan @esposamultifandom @rebecca-hvnstn @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @sammyxorae @filmologetica @n-o-p-e-never @stoneyggirl2 @hhiggs @neptua @yuckqr @steelthespooder @jaredpadonlyyyy @robynn9436-blog @x3zerochanx3 @lilbloggs @chriszgirl92 @ninii-winchester @monshirev @saturogojosgirl @necrobab3 @simpingfortoomanypeople @casey1-2007 @mystic-mara @kamisobsessed

A/N: Another long chapter for you, hehe. WE ARE IN THE ENDGAME NOW. Please, let me know what you think about this one. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! Remember they keep me going and I put soo much effort hehe love you ‪‪❤

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cheynovak · 7 months ago

Text

A Demon's Kiss

Demon Dean x F/Reader Y/N

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

Side note: English isn’t my first language.

*Does not follow The SPN storyline *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She looked around, “Where is Sam?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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