#moc!dean x you

[foolinthera1n]

show me who you are ─

the mark of cain weighs heavily on dean's shoulders, affecting all of you. when the bloodlust becomes too much, you know you have to help him. in the only way you can think of.

cw ─ slight angst, mark of cain!dean, very slight mention of sa/non-con (not from dean), blood, gore, canon-typical violence, smut!, fem! reader, praise kink, dirty talk, rough sex, overstimulation, fingering, unprotected p in v, sorry if i miss anything else!

☆ 💿PORNSTAR - nessa barrett

i wanna hear you talking dirty,

i wanna see it on your face.

⭒

it was getting worse, you could all see it. you, sam, cas - hell, even crowley could see it. the mark was slowly killing dean, and it was only getting worse.

it wasn't as obvious at first, just small outbursts here and there, but surely enough, it became more obvious. he was more snappy than usual, spent more time alone, and he would zone out more, hands either clenched into fists or one was clasped tightly over the mark on his forearm.

you didn't bring it up to him, that was the silent agreement that you, sam and cas had come up with, and you obliged to it. so you didn't tell dean how the far away look in his eyes made your brow furrow and your stomach churn with worry, or how your heart broke every night when you could hear him wake himself up from his nightmares. you didn't tell him how seeing him struggle, and refuse help, was slowly but surely breaking you down, and you definitely didn't tell dean that you missed him.

sure, he was right there, just down the hall from you, close enough that you could hear him in the ungodly hours of the night, restlessly rummaging around his room, but he still wasn't there. not the real him, not the dean that you knew. the dean you knew was being held captive by that horrid mark that not only haunted his dreams, but yours now too. you missed your dean, the one who told stupid jokes that made you choke on your beer. the dean who grinned proudly whenever you correctly named a song on the radio and who would sing a long loudly to his favorite led zeppelin songs, glancing at you as he drove.

drives are mostly silent now, save for the hum of the impala, or the quiet background noise of the radio, but still never those homemade tapes that he loved so much. he doesn't drink with you anymore, though he still does it an unhealthy amount. he drinks alone in his room, or late at night by himself in the kitchen, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes staring somewhere far off. the only reason you even know this is because one night, when you couldn't sleep, you went to the kitchen for a glass of water and found him there, only to have him get up and leave with only a nod of acknowledgement to you.

it was killing him, and if you didn't do something about it, it was going to kill you too.

the hunt was supposed to be a cakewalk. it was just a nest of vampires not too far from the bunker, and dean insisted that he was fine, that the mark's screaming wasn't too much for him to bear and he was feeling good enough to go with you guys on the hunt.

after sharing a look with sam, you reluctantly relented, agreeing to let him come along under the condition that if he felt the bloodlust creeping in, he would back off and stay behind in the impala.

that leads to now, where you were currently kicking yourself for not doing recon before going in. the nest was bigger than you and sam had originally thought, there were probably double the amount of vamps than you had previously thought, and when you, him and dean had crept into the nest, one of the freshly turned ones - a child, no less - had spotted you and screamed, awaking the whole nest. and so here you were, wrestling with one of the female bloodsuckers on the grimy floor of the abandoned barn.

her dirt-caked nails raked down the sides of your neck, making you hiss in pain as you brought your knee up hard, hitting her in the stomach, effectively pushing her off of you. as soon as she was on her back next to you, you scrambled up, quickly grabbing your machete that the bitch had knocked out of your hands and turning back to her. without even giving her a chance to bare her fangs, you raise your bloodied machete over your head, bringing it down with a cry, cutting her head right off.

taking a second to breathe, you stand up, panting heavily as you brush some hair out of your face, turning your head to the side to spit out some blood, running your tongue over your teeth to get rid of the taste. your moment of rests is cut short though, when you hear a loud thud and the sounds of a struggle from the room next to you.

gripping your machete tighter and taking a deep breath, you rush out of the room you had been in, leaving behind the bodies of the three vamps you had killed. you sprint out the door, crashing through the room next door, your heart racing as you see sam in a struggle with two bloodsuckers.

you rush over, cutting the head off one before he even has the chance to fully turn around. the other one drops sam in surprise, turning to you and snarling, his disgusting rows of fangs glinting in the low light. using the vampire's moment of distraction, sam grabs his own machete and raises it, slicing the vamp's head clean off.

"you okay?" you ask, chest heaving as adrenaline courses through your veins.

sam nods, raising a hand to brush his hair back from his face, his own erratic breathing evidence of the fight. "yeah. yeah, i'm good. are you?"

"one of 'em got me good with her nails, but nothing fatal," you answer, tilting your head to show him the marks. he winces in sympathy, eyes raking over the angry red marks before he bends down to pick up a vial of dead man's blood. "where's dean?"

"not sure, i lost him once they jumped on us," sam says, brows furrowing as he pockets the dead man's blood, adjusting his grip on his machete. "maybe we should-"

whatever sam was going to say is cut off as a scream comes from the floor below. you and sam share a look, fear spiking in your chest before you both turn, racing out the door. you sprint through the hallway and down the stairs, sam right on your heels as you skip steps, landing shakily at the bottom. your eyes scan the landing, and you turn to call out to sam, but before you can get a word out, a hand grabs your arm, throwing you across the room.

you hear sam call your name behind you, but he gets cut off, and you assume that he has a vamp of his own to deal with. you push yourself up with a groan, but as your sitting up, a hand grabs your arm again, hauling you up and slamming you against the wall.

"well, would ya look at this," the vamp spits, his yellow stained teeth shown in a grin as he leans in, his putrid breath in your face making you want to vomit. "the winchester's brought their little girl toy. how nice of them to bring us a gift."

"go to hell," you spit, the words strained as his hand fists in the collar of your shirt, pressing against your neck as he raises you higher against the wall.

the vamp only grins wider, running his tongue over his small, cracked lips. his dark, greasy hair falls in front of his eyes, and his bloodshot blue eyes make him look crazed. he's bleeding from a fresh cut on his forehead, and you wonder if one of the boys had already got into it with him.

"ooh, and she's feisty," he snarls, smirking cruelly. he raises his other hand to brush his grime-covered fingertips over your forehead, running them through your hair.

you turn away from his touch, struggling in his vice-like grip as bile builds in your throat, but his smirk only grins, a low, dark chuckle leaving his crusted lips.

"that's just fine," he whispers, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he leans in to nose at your neck, inhaling deeply, ignoring your struggle in his grip. "i like it when they fight back."

his words make your heart pound, your chest tightening with panic, eyes wide with fear as you struggle in his tight grasp, arms flinging and nails scratching at anywhere you can reach, but he doesn't even flinch, his grip not loosening at all. you open your mouth to scream, hoping to get the attention of one of the boys, or anyone that will help you at this point, but the hand that was in your hair slaps over your mouth just as you part your lips, your scream muffled into his palm.

"ah-ah, be a good girl and stay quiet," he tuts, pulling back to bare his fangs to you. you just stare at him, eyes wide with fear as you continue to struggle in his hold. you squeeze your eyes shut as he leans in again, a tear slipping down your cheek.

"let her go."

your eyes snap wide open at the familiar voice of dean, gaze landing on him over the vamp's shoulder, relief filling you at the sight of him. he was standing there, blood splattered all over his clothes, face and hair, his grip white-knuckled on his machete. sam stands behind him, his own eyes wide with fear as they flick between dean and you in the monster's grip. you try to call out to them, but the sound comes out as a muffled whimper against the vamp's hand.

the bloodsucker turns his head to look behind him, his smirk faltering at the sight of dean. his fangs retract, but his grip on you stays vice-like.

"well if it isn't dean winchester," the vamp snarls, his hand over your mouth tightening slightly, making you wince. "come to save your little doll?"

dean's jaw clenches, his expression darkening even further as he stares at you and the vamp, taking a menacing step forward.

"i said - let her go," he growls, something dark flashing in his emerald eyes.

the vamp's eyes widen in fear at the look on dean's face, and his grip on you loosens slightly. that's the opening you need, and with all the strength you can muster, you bite down hard on his hand, simultaneously kicking your leg as hard as you can into his crotch.

the monster cries out in pain, his hands dropping you as they fly to where you kicked him. you fall to the floor with a small thud, catching yourself before you hit your head. you quickly stand up while the bloodsucker is distracted, and sam immediately rushes over to you, grabbing you and pulling you into his arms, backing you away from dean and the vamp.

"sam, wait, dean-"

"the mark's got him right now," sam cuts you off, his voice thick with worry as he holds you to him, soothing your trembling form. "we just gotta stay out of the way, there's nothing we can do."

his words sink in, and it's then you realize that the barn is quiet. your eyes widen in realization, and you turn your head to look up at sam, heart pounding in your chest.

"he killed them all?" you ask, your voice just barely above a whisper. sam's grim nod is enough to make you feel sick.

your attention is torn from that information as you hear the vamp cry out in pain, and when you look up, you see dean's got him on the floor, the vamp's head twisted at an odd angle as dean steps on his back, machete raised over his head.

"this is less than you deserve for touching her, you disgusting son of a bitch," dean spits, and you watch in horror as he raises his machete over his head, bringing it down in one smooth stroke, blood splattering across his face as he cuts the vamp's head clean off.

the barn is silent, save for dean's heavy breath and the pounding of your heart. dean's sleeve is torn, and you can see the mark pulsing an angry red, burning into his skin, the sight making your chest tighten even more.

dean doesn't move, he just stands there, chest heaving and eyes blazing as he stares at the dead body of the vamp, his knuckles white as he grips the machete, blood dripping from the blade onto the old wooden floor.

your heart aches in your chest, and you pull yourself from sam's arms, giving him a reassuring look when he tries to stop you. taking a deep breath, you take a small step towards where dean stands, your body still shaking slightly from adrenaline.

"dean?" you call softly, your voice gentle, trying not to startle him. you don't flinch when his eyes snap up to you, and though his body is still tense, you can see something soften slightly in his gaze when it lands on you. "can you put the machete down, please?"

to your surprise, he does as you ask, the blade falling to the floor with a clatter that echoes through the empty barn. you take that as an invitation to step closer, your eyes never leaving dean's as they follow your movements, his lips parted slightly as he breathes.

when you reach him, you tentatively reach your arm up, placing your hand on his arm, but he jerks back, sucking in a breath as he seemingly snaps out of whatever haze he was in. he takes a step back from you, eyes flickering between you and the severed body of the vampire on the floor.

"let's just go," he says, his voice hoarse and cold. with one last flickering glance up to you, he bends down to grab his machete before turning on his heel and walking to the entrance of the barn.

⭒

the drive back to the bunker had been silent and filled with a suffocating tension that made it hard for you to breathe. once you were back inside the bunker, it wasn't any better, dean not saying a word as he storms ahead, rushing off to his room and closing the door abruptly behind him.

you and sam don't say much as he checks over you for any serious injuries, and you for him. he just hugs you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before heading to his own room. you follow suit, shedding your bloodied clothing in your room before grabbing a change of clothes and heading to the bathroom attached to your bedroom, which the boys had agreed to give you as one of the few that had it's own bathroom.

in the shower, you turn the heat all the way up, scrubbing the blood from your stained skin, washing off the hands of the vamp who had grasped you. you rub until your skin is raw, and even though you did the other day, you shave, just to feel that sense of normalcy instead of the sickly unease that crawls in your nerves. you wash your hair twice, ridding yourself of the blood and dirt you had collected in the barn, sighing as the steam melted against your skin.

as you stood there under the burning stream, you thought about dean, about the look in his eyes, the empty way he had walked away from you, and all of the pain he had been going through since he had taken the god-forsaken mark. you knew that the guilt from succumbing to the blood lust weighed heavily on his shoulders, and you just wished that there was some way you could focus that anger, that need on something else. and that's when the idea came to you.

immediately, you shut off the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping your hair in it, grabbing another one to wrap around your body, rushing back into your room and grabbing a different pair of clothes than you had previously chosen. you trade out the old sweatpants for a pair of sleep shorts, large sweatshirt for an old t-shirt that you stole from dean months ago, and tossing your plain panties, instead grabbing one of your nicer pairs, a dark red lace number that hugged you perfectly, foregoing a bra.

you tried not to think about how ridiculous this was as you slip on the clothes, taking your now semi-damp hair out of the towel and running your hands through it gently, getting out the leftover tangles. you splash water on your face, drying it off with a towel as you look in the mirror, chewing on your lip as you decide whether to put a bit of makeup on or not. you decide yes, just throwing on the slightest bit of mascara and eyeliner, adding just a bit of blush, and swiping over your lips with your cherry lip balm, pursing your lips to properly coat them.

you lean back and study yourself in the mirror, cringing at the bright red scratch marks on your neck before taking a deep breath as you consider what you're about to do. fuck it, you think, go big or go home, right?

with those words of wisdom to yourself and one last deep breath, you turn and walk of out the bathroom, and then out of the door to your room, heading into the hallway, your bare feet pad on the concrete floor as you make the short walk just a few doors down to dean's room. you stop in front of his door, taking a shaky breath before raising your hand, hesitating for a moment before knocking softly.

you hear shuffling, as if he's getting out of bed, and then the door opens and he's suddenly in front of you, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the doorway.

your breath hitches at the sight of him, your stomach flipping as you look up at him. his hair is spiked and damp, reflecting the shower he probably just took, his stubble highlighting his jaw. his plaid pajama pants are slung low on his hips, just enough to show a sliver of skin between the waistband and the hem of his black t-shirt that hugs his shoulders tightly, stretching over his chest.

dean says your name in a low voice, tilting his head as he looks down at you. you snap out of your trance, flushing slightly as you realize you were caught staring. "what're you doing here?" he asks, and doubt pools in your chest.

"i...i have a proposal," you say, nervously biting your lip as you look up at him.

dean's eyes track the movement, his jaw clenching as he flicks his gaze back up to your eyes, brows raising in question. "a proposal?"

you nod, shifting anxiously on your feet. you take a breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you smile nervously up at him. "can i come in?"

he doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at you, pushing off the doorway and stepping back, allowing you to walk by him. you step into the threshold of his room, forcing yourself to push away the nerves as you stand in front of the bed. your eyes follow him as he closes the door behind you, walking over to stand in front of you, arms still crossed over his chest as he looks down at you.

"so, what's this proposal of yours?" dean asks, the rough timbre of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. you snap out of it, meeting his gaze head on as you speak.

"okay, i was thinking about the mark, and the blood lust." you can see his jaw clench at the mention of the mark and your stomach flips, but you continue. "so i thought, what if...what if there was another way to channel that?"

something flickers in his eyes at your words, and he raises his eyebrows in curiosity. "what d'you mean?"

you swallow nervously, biting your lip as you consider what you're about to say. "before i say it, i just want you to know that if this makes you uncomfortable then i can just go and we'll pretend that this never happened and-"

dean cuts you off with a grunt of your name, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes at you. "just spit it out-"

"i want you to fuck me." the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, both yours and dean's eyes widening at the bluntness of them.

"you want me to-"

"fuck me," you restate, deciding to just go with your forwardness. "i was thinking about what the mark makes you feel, and how it makes you turn that into blood lust, but then i thought about what if you could channel it into something else. give you some other way to let go."

dean doesn't say anything, just stands there, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched so tight your worried he's going to break something as he stares at you, eyes raking over your features as if something in them is going to tell him that you're joking.

you look away as you flush under his stare, regret and embarrassment seeping into your chest. when he still doesn't say anything, you shake your head, biting your lip as you turn to head back towards his door. "i knew this was stupid, i'm sorry-"

dean doesn't even give you the chance to finish your apology as he grabs your arm and spins you back into his chest, pulling a gasp from your lips.

"stop doing that," he growls, and when you look up into his eyes, they're so dark it makes your breath hitch. his hand that's not gripping your arm comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, tugging it lightly. "drivin' me fucking crazy."

you're too dazed by his sudden proximity to respond, the woody, leather filled scent that's so purely dean invading your senses and making you dizzy.

"let me get this straight," dean says, his voice low and slightly strained as he thumbs at your bottom lip, his eyes glued to the action. "you want me to fuck you, to get rid of the blood lust?"

you nod, lips parting automatically as he tugs at your bottom one, eyes wide as you stare up at him. "yea-yeah. it would still be letting that energy out, just in a different way," you tell him, your voice slightly breathless.

"and you want that?" he asks, eyes lingering on the way your lips brush his thumb as you speak before slipping back up to meet yours. "you want me to let go with you, sweetheart?"

you nod again, swallowing thickly as your mouth goes dry at the nickname. even though you'd heard it from his lips a thousand times before, this time it felt different, heavier, and you felt it weigh on your heart. "of course, if it'll help you-"

"no," dean cuts you off, growling your name and gripping your jaw tighter. "i'm asking you if you want this. not if you want to help me, i'm asking if you want me to fuck you, because if i won't touch you if you don't want this."

"i want this," you answer without hesitation, your voice breathy and your eyes wide, pupils blown with lust as you look up at him. "i wouldn't do this if i didn't want it."

dean groans, eyes clenching shut as if it's physically paining him to hold back, and his hand on your arm slides around your waist, tugging you flush against his chest. when he opens his eyes again, the sapphire green that wormed it's way into your heart is almost entirely swallowed by lust-blown black, the sight making your heart stutter.

"if we do this," he starts, his voice dangerously low. his hand caresses your waist before moving to your hip, gripping the flesh tightly through your clothes. "i'm not so sure 'm gonna be able to control myself. i don't wanna hurt you."

you shake your head, eyes determined as you hold his gaze, your hands coming up to his chest, fisting in his shirt and pulling him impossibly closer. "you're not gonna hurt me, dean," you whisper, pushing up on your tip-toes so that your lips are a breath away from his. "i want this, i want you to let go with me. i want you to use me."

dean just stares at you for a moment, his hand on your jaw moving to cup your cheek as his eyes bore into yours, jaw clenched and nostrils flared. as soon as his eyes flick back up to yours, something snaps in him and he surges forward, crashing his lips to yours.

you moan at the intensity of the kiss, your hands moving from his shirt to wind up into his hair, fingers tangling tightly in the still damp strands. his hands are suddenly everywhere, moving from your cheek to grip your hair, the hand on your hip slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin, groaning against your lips when he finds that you're not wearing a bra.

your lips part instantly as you feel his tongue run along your bottom lip, moaning into his mouth as he tilts his head, running his tongue over your teeth before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. your head is spinning as your teeth clash, your hands in his hair holding him tightly to you, arching your body into his.

when you both finally remember you need air, you pull back with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your now swollen lips. dean rests his forehead against yours, his hands finding a place at your hips, gripping them tightly as he catches his breath.

"last chance to back out," he breathes, looking at you with hooded eyes that make your knees weak.

"not a chance, winchester," you whisper back, your voice equally strained as you pant softly, trying to force air into your lungs.

dean groans at your words, and without hesitation, he slams his lips back to yours, one hand fisting in your hair as the other creeps up your back, pulling your shirt up with it until he has to pull away to tug it off you, throwing it somewhere. his pupils grow impossibly larger as he takes in your bare chest, your nipples pebbling as they're exposed to the cool air. his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he's on you, surging forward and capturing one of the hardened buds in his mouth.

you yelp softly at the sudden action, the sound melting into a moan as you arch into him, hands grasping at his hair to hold him to you.

"fuck, dean─" you gasp, head falling back as his tongue swirls around your sensitive skin, his hand coming up to cup your breast that his mouth isn't currently ravishing. after he's satisfied with the job he's done, he switches, bringing his mouth to your other breast, his hand moving to cup and grope the one his mouth had just been working at, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

when you whimper his name as he bites at your bud, he pulls himself away from your chest with a pop, lips slick and eyes blown as he looks down at you. you stare up at him, eyes wide and lips parted as you pant, just taking in the sight of him, so worked up over you.

"fuck," he groans, jaw clenching as his eyes greedily rake over your flushed features, his spit-slick bottom lip caught between his teeth. your hooded eyes follow the movement, your faces close enough that you can feel his breath on your heated skin, which sends a shiver up your spine.

you've seen dean shirtless many times─patching him up, or when motel rooms got too hot, but this was different. now, his toned chest was heaving with heavy breaths, his tan skin flushed with desire just for you.

you're staring, lips parted as you pant heavily, your eyes greedily raking over every inch of skin he's offering to you. your hands twitch to reach out, to feel every ridge, dip and curve of his body, and you're too far gone to deny yourself.

you rush forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and attaching your mouth to his neck. your lips trail up his neck, sucking at a spot under his jaw that has him groaning your name in a way that makes your knees weak. you're sure you would've collapsed by now if dean's arms weren't wrapped so tightly around your waist you could feel his biceps flex against your skin as your mouth ravished his neck and up to his jaw.

you're craning your neck to reach his skin, and you're body feels so hot you're worried that it's going to burst into flames if you don't do something about it. the chorus of more, more, more chants in your head, fueling your trembling legs as the walk forward, walking dean backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed.

he falls to sit on the bed with a grunt, his grip never loosening around you as you follow him, crawling into his lap eagerly, moaning into his neck when his bare chest presses against yours. you arch against him as you bite and suck on his neck, lips trailing down to nip at his collarbone, leaving a path of spit behind you.

"shit─need t'feel you, baby," dean rasps, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly, grinding you down onto him. you whimper in agreement, reluctantly pulling away from his salty skin, licking your lips to savor the taste of him.

you sit yourself up on your knees in his lap, cupping his face in your hands as you tilt his head back to look up at you, your thumb tugging at his bottom lip just as he did to you before. just the sight of him sends a wave of aching desire between your legs, your panties growing wetter by the second.

dean looks absolutely wrecked. his plush lips are parted and spit-slick, swollen from your bruising kisses, the white of his teeth peeking through the brightened pink as he pants heavily. his hooded eyes are so dark, the mossy green almost completely gone as he stares up at you with such reverence it makes your pounding heart stutter in your chest.

his rough hand squeezing your hips brings your attention back to the moment as he turns his head into your touch, lips ghosting your palm, his eyes staying locked on yours.

"c'mon, sweetheart," dean groans, his voice almost breathless as he squeezes your hip again, the action almost pleading. "can't take this anymore, just need you, need t'feel that pretty pussy 'round me."

his words make you moan softly, but they snap you into action. you scramble off his lap, stepping back from the cage of his legs as you hook your fingers in the waistband of your sleep shorts, bending over towards him as you tug them down, shimmying them over your hips and thighs until they fall to the floor.

dean's eyes hungrily watch your every movement, jaw clenching tightly and a low groan escaping his lips as the delicate red lace of your panties is exposed to him.

"son of a bitch," he mutters, his voice a breathless whisper so quiet you almost miss it.

feeling spurred on by his words, you step out of your shorts, leaving them on the floor as you stand between his legs again and start to sink down, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him. but his arm shoots out to grab yours, stopping you from dropping to your knees with a grip so tight you think it might leave bruises. your pussy clenches at the thought, the idea of looking in the mirror and seeing the mark of him on your skin, as a reminder of this chance you may never have again, nearly making your eyes roll back.

"no, no," dean practically snarls, straightening you up as his hands go to the waistband of your panties, ripping them from your body with a ferocity that makes you gasp. "next time baby, i promise, i'll let you use your fuckin' gorgeous mouth on me, but right now i need to fuck that pretty pussy until you can't even think anything but my name."

a breath leaves your lungs in a shaky gasp, the filthiness of his words making your head spin.

"okay─" is all you can manage, your voice shaking as he tugs you back into his lap, groaning when he feels your bare, hot core against his still clothed and straining cock. he doesn't hold the position long though, because in a blink of an eye, he has you flat on your back, breasts heaving as you stare up at him, your eyes wide and needy.

you part your lips to comment something about how he still has pants on, but the words catch in your throat as a moan when his fingers suddenly swipe through your weeping heat. you arch your back against the mattress, trying to push yourself up against his fingers as they circle your throbbing clit, sending sparks of pleasure behind your eyes.

"that's it, that's my girl─ fuck, you're so fuckin' pretty," dean praises, leaning over you to suck one of your peaked nipples into heated mouth.

his words make you whimper, and your hips buck up desperately into his hand, chasing the burning pleasure he's making you feel. "shit, dean, please, please─"

your whines are cut off into a moan when he plunges the same fingers that had been working your aching bud into your sopping cunt, your walls instantly tightening around his digits.

"i know, pretty girl, i know," he croons, his raspy voice muffled against the heated skin of your chest. his plush lips trailing up to your neck, his stubble scratching at your sensitive skin as he noses under your ear, teeth tugging gently at your earlobe. "jus' give me one before i fuck you, yeah? wanna feel you come around my fingers before i fuck you stupid on my cock."

you whimper in response, tossing your head back against the mattress with a moan as he drives his fingers into your heat again and again, curling them just right to hit that gummy spot deep within you that makes your toes curl.

"oh god, oh god─" you babble, eyes squeezing shut as you feel the band in your stomach tightening, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. "dean, close, m'so close─"

your words only encourage him, his teeth tugging at your ear once more before he trails them up to your jaw, resting his forehead against your cheek. he presses his lips to the burning skin there as his thumb moves to circle your clit, making you cry out under him, your hands flaying to his shoulders, nails digging into the taut skin as you buck against his hand.

"yeah? y'gonna cum, baby? gonna soak my fingers like the good girl you are?" dean coos, lips moving against your cheek, letting his teeth graze your skin. "c'mon, pretty girl, cum on my fingers so this perfect fucking pussy can take me like she needs to."

you fly over the edge with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and spine arching as your orgasm crashes over you, stealing the air from your lungs. your legs tremble around him, and you can feel his smug smirk against your cheek, your mind too fuzzy to comprehend the words he mumbles against your skin.

his fingers don't stop, working your soaked pussy until your whining, squirming away from his touch as your eyes flutter open, mouth slack as you gasp for breath. your eyes flick up to dean as he moves his face to hover over yours, and his hand has moved but he's not saying anything, and he's just staring at you, and the reverence in his eyes makes you want to shrink, but there's nowhere for you to go.

"dean," you whisper, your voice still shaking and barely audible as your eyes search his, trying to read his expression. he still doesn't say anything, just watching you with his devastatingly beautiful eyes and making you feel like he's worshipping you with his gaze. "what's wrong? do-do you want to stop─"

"do you know," dean mumbles your name, cutting you off effectively. "how fucking beautiful you are?"

the unexpected compliment makes your breath hitch, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you're sure he can hear it. all you can do is stare up at him, and he's so close you can count every freckle on his impossibly perfect face, the moment so intimate it makes your heart clench in your chest.

"you drive me goddamn crazy," he continues, pushing himself up to stand between your legs that hang off the edge of the bed. his hands drift down to the waistband of his pants, pushing them and his boxers down in one swift movement, his eyes never leaving yours as he kicks them away. "you make me forget everything, y'know that? you make me forget about this damn mark on my arm, you're in my head and then suddenly, all the mark wants is you."

your eyes drift down to between his legs, your mouth watering as you see his cock, hard and heavy in front of you, already red and leaking precum. when you continue to stare, dean leans over you again, grasping your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"i mean, fuck, just look at you, sweetheart," he breathes, his gaze raking over you, lingering on your heaving breasts before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "look so fucking gorgeous...all fucked out 'n stupid just from my fingers."

you only whimper in response, the sound breathless and soft as your spinning head tries to process his words. "please, dean," you rasp, your pleading eyes searching his, lifting your hips up to try and feel hi until he groans softly, eyes fluttering. "need you, please, fuck me.."

he stares at you for another moment, his jaw ticking and you can feel his cock twitch against your inner thigh. he finally moves again, reaching out and grabbing a pillow, lifting your hips and placing it under you. when he decides you're properly situated, he settles between your spread thighs, grasping one tightly in one hand while the other pumps himself slowly. he leans over you, guiding himself to your weeping entrance as your hands fly to his shoulders, grasping at the hard muscles.

he suddenly stops just before his leaking head brushed your folds, the hand on your thigh tightening as his eyes flick up to yours. "condom?" he asks, his voice strained as he forces himself to hold back.

you shake your head, biting your lip as you watch the way his pupils dilate, the sight making your aching core clench around nothing. "wanna feel you, all of you."

"fuck," he groans, his eyes slipping shut as he pumps himself faster, lining up with your aching pussy again. "baby, you're gonna be the death 'f me."

you just hum in response, your eyes glued to where he rubs his red, swollen tip through your puffy folds. with one more squeeze of your thigh, he pushes in, punching harmonic moans out of both of you. your back arches, eyes rolling back as your tight walls stretch around him, the pleasurable burn making your nails dig into his skin.

dean watches you, eyes wide and blown so dark with desire he looks almost crazed, staying still as he lets you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. "that's it, look at you, takin' me so well," he praises, rolling his hips gently to see your reaction.

"ohh shit," you moan, a gasping whimper catching in your throat when he rolls his hips again. he grasps your hips with both hands as leans over you, his bare chest pressing against yours. he stays like that, keeping still longer than he did before, and it doesn't take long until your squirming under him, whimpering softly as you grasp at his shoulders. "move, dean, please─"

as soon as the plea leaves your swollen lips, his hips snap harshly against yours, making you cry out, your eyes flying open to meet his. your mouth goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream and your brow furrowing as he pistons his hips into you, changing angles slightly until he hits that gummy spot deep in you that makes you cry out his name.

"yeah, yeah, i know, pretty girl, that's it right there, huh?" dean's voice is strained, the words a groan against your lips as he licks into your slack mouth, making you mewl under him, the sound only encouraging him to go faster. "squeezin' me so tight, shit, perfect fucking pussy was made for me, fuck─"

he pounds into you mercilessly, your tight walls tightening around his cock, sucking him in as his tip hits your cervix, making stars flash in your eyes. you swear you can feel him everywhere. his hot breath against your parted lips, calloused hands gripping your thighs and sliding up to your chest to pinch and tweak at your hardened buds, his cock making you so full you swear you can feel him in your throat.

you can feel your release creeping up on you, your hands slipping down to grip his biceps, moaning when the muscles flex under your touch. dean seems to sense that you're getting close, and he moves one hand from your chest, trailing his fingers down your torso until he reaches your clit, rubbing tight circles on the aching bud.

the sudden overwhelming pleasure makes you cry out, eyes rolling back as you claw at his skin, broken mewls and gasps leaving your lips. "dean-!"

"yeah, fuck, beautiful, say my name," he groans, dropping his head to your neck, his hips never faltering their bruising pace. "want you scream it when you cum around my cock."

"oh shit," you gasp, hands flying to his back, nails dragging down his skin as you feel yourself getting dangerously close to the edge. "close, shit, m'close dean─"

"yeah, i know, baby, can feel you squeezing me." his fingers speed up on your throbbing clit, and with just the smallest bit of added pressure, the band in you snaps. hard.

you think you scream, but your brain shuts off as your orgasm crashes through you, the pleasure mind-numbing and paralyzing. dean continues to fuck you through it, his hips faltering as he feels your walls clamp down on him with your release.

"fuck, that's it. good girl, good fucking girl," he grunts your name into your neck, his voice strained as you feel him twitch in you, his thrusts just extending your orgasm and melting into another one. "you don't know how fucking long 've wanted this. your perfect fucking pussy gripping me so tight, fuck─ you were made for me, fucking made for my cock, never gonna let you go after this, ngh, you're mine now, sweetheart. all fucking mine."

he continues to babble as his hips falter, lifting his head from your neck to crash his lips to yours, devouring your mouth with his teeth and tongue.

"gonna cum in your tight fuckin' pussy, gonna fill you up, make you feel me for days." you whimper into his mouth, the two of you more so just panting into each other's mouths rather than kissing.

"please, dean, need it, need you so bad," you moan, feeling that band tighten once more. "wanna feel you, please, please─"

"oh fuck, gonna cum," he gasps your name into your mouth, his grip on your hips tightening, and somewhere in the back of your fucked out brain you register that there are definitely going to be bruises there tomorrow. "fuck, m'gonna cum─"

he thrusts once, twice, burying his face in your neck and then his hips still, pressing his cock as deep into you as he can get as he twitches, groaning loudly as he spills into you, his release hot and heavenly in your tight walls. the feelings sends you over the edge again, a weak, broken cry leaving you as your vision practically goes white with pleasure.

you stay like that, trembling and panting softly under him, your eyes hooded and hazy, your shaking hands slipping from his shoulders and falling to his biceps weakly. for a long moment, dean doesn't move, just breathing heavily into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your sensitive skin with every breath.

eventually, he shifts his hips, moving to pull out, and the movement makes you whimper from the oversensitivity. instantly, dean pulls back from your neck, his brow furrowed as he looks down at you, his gaze filled with concern.

"shit, did i hurt you?" he asks, and you can hear the panic creeping into his tone. "i'm so sorry sweetheart, i didn't mean to─"

you cut him off with a shake of your head, forcing your eyes to focus as you look up at him, a weak, fucked-out smile forming on your lips. "you didn't hurt me, dean," you assure him, your voice raspy. "i'm fine, just sensitive."

"oh okay," he says, nodding and lets out a breath as if he'd been holding it.

he takes another moment, eyes raking over your face again, and he looks like hes't going to say something, but he bites his lip, pushing down whatever it is. slowly, he lifts himself on his arms, pushing up so he's almost sitting, squeezing your thigh comfortingly as he pulls out. you wince slightly at the movement, shivering when you feel his release dripping from your spent cunt.

he pulls away from you completely, standing up and walking over to the corner of his room and your stomach sinks as you watch him rifle through his stuff. you knew this was coming, the part where he awkwardly mumbled a thank you and you take his rejection without a word, making the walk of shame back to your own room, and you never speak of this again.

you can feel the familiar burn of tears forming behind your eyelids as you push yourself up, placing your feet on the ground. you don't look up at him as you lean over, grabbing your discarded shirt from the floor. you bite your lip anxiously as you stand up from the bed, intending to put your shirt on only to stumble and sway as your weak legs shake under you.

"woah, woah─" dean's arm comes around your waist, catching you before you can fall and you lean against him without really meaning to sighing at the warmth of his chest. "where do you think you're goin'?"

he turns you in his arms so your chest to chest with him, and you keep your eyes glued to his anti-posession tattoo, not quite ready to look him in the eyes and see the rejection. "i'll just get dressed and go back to my room─"

"hey, what? no," he interrupts, confusion lacing his words. his hand moves to cup your chin, tilting your head up until you have no choice but to look into his eyes. his brow is furrowed, and you have the sudden need to reach up and smooth the crease with your fingers. "why would you do that?"

your lips part to speak, but no words come out as the intense emotions in his eyes steal your breath.

dean says your name in a low voice, his gaze roaming over your face as his thumb stroked your cheek gently. "did you think i was gonna kick you out?"

"i...i didn't think you'd want me to stay," you admit in a breathless voice, eyes wide as you stare up at him.

he doesn't say anything for a moment, just gazing down at you as his hand raises to brush some of your hair away from your face, and if hekeeps looking at you like that you think you might catch on fire. "i meant what i said."

the words are so simple, so blunt that you don't know what he's referring to. "what are you talking about?" you ask, slightly breathless as your brow furrows in confusion.

"what i said, earlier, i meant it," dean repeats, the hand that's not cupping your chin raising to your forehead, his thumb stroking at the crease between your brows, the tenderness making your breath hitch. "i've wanted you, wanted this for so long, sweetheart."

his words stop your heart, and you look up at him with wide, shocked eyes. you can feel your pulse pounding in your chest, your shirt in your hand falling to the floor as your lips part in shock. "you have?"

"yeah," he mutters your name, both of his hands moving to cup your face now, and you subconsciously lean into his touch, making him smile softly. "i have. i'm honestly surprised you didn't notice before. even cas said i was bein' obvious."

your head reels from his confession, the words processing in your still slightly hazy mind. "you...what?" you ask, still staring up at him with wide eyes.

"i mean, hell, how could i not want you?" dean chuckles, almost to himself as he gazes down at you. "you're smart, 'nd funny, and you could kick my ass any day of the week. not to mention you're so fucking beautiful it makes me weak."

"you...you really mean that?" you ask, brow furrowing in doubt. "you're not fucking with me?"

he shakes his head, smiling down at you as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks affectionately. "you, this...it's all ive wanted for a long time."

"i..." you start, unsure of what to say as you search his expression for any hint of him lying. when you find none, a smile matching his spreads across your lips, and you lean into his touch, bringing a hand up to rest over his. "ive wanted this too. for a while, actually."

dean grins at you─a real, wide, boyish grin that lights up his ethereal features, making your heart stutter in your chest. "i guess we're both idiots then."

"i guess we are..." you agree, pushing up on your tip toes to ghost your lips over his. you hover there, just breathing him in, eyes flicking between his before you close the gap, pressing your lips softly to his.

its nothing like the kisses you shared before. in fact, it's really just the gentle press of your lips to his, savoring the way his smile feels against you, and you suddenly don't know how you've lived your whole life without kissing dean winchester like this. you certainly don't think you can live without it now that you've experienced it.

after a few savored moments, you pull away, smile staying on your lips as your eyes flutter open. your hand slides along his arm, and you feel him tense when your fingers brush over the mark.

"i trust you, dean," you whisper, curling your fingers over the raised skin, squeezing his forearm lightly. "i know you would never hurt me, and i need you to know that im not going to leave."

"but-" he starts, but you cut him off by raising your free hand to press a finger to his lips.

"no buts," you counter, shifting your hand to cup his cheek, smiling lovingly at him. "just because you think you're dammed doesn't mean you actually are. because you aren't. no matter what you think of yourself, it will never change the fact that you, dean winchester, are the good man. the best man ive ever known, and ill be damned if i let you think any less than that."

"sweetheart..."

"stop. don't fight me on this─"

"i wasn't gonna fight you─"

"yes you were, i could see it─"

he says your name, low and serious, but there's still a soft smile on his face. "you're too damn good for me."

"what did i just say─"

"just let me say this, will you?" he says, giving you a look that makes you shut your mouth, eyes locked on his. he sighs, just staring at you for a moment before he speaks again, his voice softer than you've ever heard it. "youre too good for me, i know that. you're too smart, too kind, just too damn good. but damnit, i want to be selfish so bad and keep you for myself."

you just smile at him, eyes slipping shut as you lean up again to kiss him a little deeper than the one before, but still soft nonetheless. "you have me, dean," you whisper against his lips, your eyes still closed. "you've always had me."

"i don't want to hurt you," he mumbles, and you can feel his furrowed brow as he leans his forehead against yours.

"you won't hurt me."

"you don't know that─"

"yes, i do." your tone is sharp, and it makes his eyes snap open to meet yours again. at this proximity, you can see the specks of gold that flicker in the deep emerald that makes your heart skip a beat. "we'll figure this out, dean. we'll get through this and get that damn mark off you. we'll figure this out, together."

dean smiles at that, a soft, relieved curve of his lips that makes the corners of his eyes crease. he looks at you with so much emotion and affection that you want to just crumble into him and never let him go, hide him away from the world so that it can't hurt him more than it has. "together," he repeats, his voice a hushed whisper.

you can tell that he believes you, and the thought makes pride swell in your chest. you may not know much about your fucked up lives at the moment, but the one thing you know for sure is that you were never going to let dean go through it alone. ever.

a/n, this ended up being way longer than i intended, but oh well. anyways, i can't get moc!dean out of my head, so here we are... and happy late new years!

ps, the end was written at 3 in the morning (again) so i sincerely apologize if the ending is rushed

[glorystark]

Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ��buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

[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

[daughterofcain-67]

𝕽𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

(Dean Winchester x Reader Masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A hunter believes it is his job to bare the Mark of Cain and suffer alone. It's Dean's destiny to kill his enemies and save the world no matter how vast the oceans of blood will grow. Sam, of course, refuses to let his brother do this alone and he is on the desperate search to find someone who can help his brother before he changes for the worst. When Castiel tells Sam about a rumor of a girl who is the direct descendent of Cain, he begins the hunt for her. He hopes you will be able to help him find a way to subside Dean's changes before he loses his brother forever.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: SPN spoilers pertaining to seasons nine and ten. SPN level of violence, gore, blood, torture, which may not be suitable for all audiences.

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞: 09.12.23

𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞: 11.09.23

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 1

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 2

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 3

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 4

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 5

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 6

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 7

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 8

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 9

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 10 (final)

[lostgirl677]

Nothing can stop me from loving you part.2

MoC!Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Platonic!Sam Winchester x PlatonicFem!Reader

Established relationship

Masterlist

Part.1

A few weeks had passed, and I could tell Sam was as on edge as I was. He even convinced some douchebag to seal a deal with a crossroad demon to try to catch the red-eyed asshole. But all he managed to get was an arm in a sling. On my side, I contacted every hunter we knew around the country to try to gather information. But it was mostly useless. It was a race against time, and we were obviously losing. We knew that Crowley wasn’t alone in this. He had a whole crew of assholes with him. I  tried to summon Crowley and some of his lackeys, but the assholes never showed up. Even the various tracking spells with Rowena never worked. And to top it all, my dreams were plagued with weird changing images of a bar, cowboy hats and this shitty song “I’m too sexy”. Dean had finally managed to drive me crazy. I was losing my marbles at this point. 

Today wasn’t different from the others. If doing research in the hope of finding something useful could finally lead to something, it was mostly infuriating. I took the computer and a selection of books about demon invocation and went to the library. After many hours of leafing through each book, knowledge seemed to pass over my head without ever getting into it. An exasperated sigh escaped my lips as I dropped my head in my hands. “It’s useless. I won’t find anything useful in there.”, I whispered, completely desperate. I stayed in this position for a few minutes, or maybe hours. I couldn’t tell. But if the roles were reversed, Dean would turn the world upside down to find me. He would never surrender. And I loved him way too much to give up that easily. So I raised my head, wiped some stray tears, and tried to do more research. 

But reading for the hundredth time the same sentence was a signal that I couldn‘t focus anymore. Instead, my mind decided to wander away from the dusty books. And, even though it was too late to think about it, I couldn’t help but torture myself about the what-ifs. If I had stopped Dean altogether from fighting Metatron in the first place with a spell from Rowena, maybe we wouldn’t be in this crap? Perhaps, if I stayed with Dean as intended that night instead of leaving him alone, I could have stopped Crowley before he ran away with Dean. Well, maybe not stopping him, but at least delaying him a little and trying to get some sense in Dean’s mind. But I couldn’t afford to waste my time with the actions I didn’t do. It was a dangerous spiral that should never be explored. So, in order to regain the handle of the situation, I tried to focus on the things I could control. Which means thinking of the various tactics we could use to find Dean. 

After some plotting against Crowley, I decided to phone Cas for the first time since Dean’s death. I was still a bit embarrassed about my cries for help, knowing that I was bothering him with a situation he couldn’t improve. I took a deep breath as I tried to ponder whether I should call him or not. But I already clicked on the phone icon without even thinking. As the phone rang, I secretly hoped to end up on the voicemail. It rang a bit and before I could think of hanging up, I heard his deep voice. “Y/N?” I heard him say, a bit surprised. “Hey, Cas. How are you?” There was a bit of silence before I heard him clear his throat. “It is complicated to manage without my grace. But it is also difficult to repair all the damages Metatron caused but we are working things out. What about you with Dean?” 

I hesitated a bit before replying “ Well, it’s pretty hard. He could be anywhere and doing god knows what at the moment. Plus, Sam is acting recklessly now. I’m scared, Cas. I don’t know what to do. " "We’re going to find him, don’t worry. As soon as I’m done with this celestial issue, I’ll come to help you.” I could hear that he was sincere, that he truly loved Dean as much as we did.” Thank you, Cas. Also, I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry that I haven't called you since his death.” I wanted to add something else but my voice shattered a bit. “I am not mad at you, Y/N. I understand. And you don’t have to be embarrassed about your distress, it is a normal human feeling in these circumstances. Just know that your cries and prayers weren’t ignored, that they broke my heart and shook me to my core. I am sorry that I was not able to do more.” His voice wavered a bit while saying this. “Take care, Y/N. Call me anytime you need.” “Thank you, Cas. Take care too.” And he hung up the phone.

After the phone call, I decided to busy myself with more research. But again, my mind always ended up circling with the worst-case scenarios, this time. Crowley had a precise reason to revive Dean, and it scared me. And since there was no way Dean could have willingly left with Crowley, there had to be some kind of mind control or something. What if Crowley used Dean to be his personal hitman? What if he used him as a bargain with one of our enemies? Hell he could even use him as a male stripper to gain money! It wasn’t even the worst option there, but everything was possible when Crowley was involved. He could have taken him out of the country, for that matter. He could even have killed him if his project were finalized. It made me close my eyes to repress undesirable tears. Slowly, I pushed the computer away. All of this mess was giving me a killer migraine. 

Timeskip 

It was late when I heard the front door of the bunker. Sam was going down the stairs, his arms full of files. I immediately rushed to help him. The bags under his eyes became darker than the day before and his hair was messy. He looked so exhausted, just like me. He glanced at me and gently smiled. “Thanks, Y/N.” I smiled too. “No problem. I won’t let you carry everything in your state. Also, I made dinner. I’ll heat it for you if you want.” A warm smile illuminated his face. “Thank you, I’m starving.” We put all the files on the library’s table and made our way to the kitchen. Once inside the room, Sam began to set the table for the both of us and once dinner was warm, we both ate while making small talk. “I’m sure that's how Dean knew you were the one. Super caring and your cooking is heavenly.” His remark warmed my heart and broke it at the same time. “Thank you. I still remember the first time he tasted my pistachio pasta sauce.” Sam laughed. “I thought that he would propose right away. I must admit that your dish was incredible.” There was a pause before he talked again. “I also remember all the pep talks I gave to him to encourage him to make a move. Strangely enough, he can be super smooth with a random girl. But with you? A complete dork. He looked like a middle schooler trying to ask his crush out.” I laughed a little. “Who would have thought, indeed?” But my smile faltered quickly and I almost dropped my fork, no longer hungry. Sam noticed but didn’t say a word. Instead, he just sent me a reassuring smile and the rest of the meal was silent.

The next day, I woke up with a start after an intense dream of a guy kidnapping Sam. That weird guy wanted to kill Dean. Those strange dreams happened almost every night, and I couldn’t understand why. Was it a sort of trauma? I couldn’t understand what it was, but it was becoming scary. As I took in my surroundings, I realized that I had slept again on the floor in the middle of a stack of books and that someone had wrapped a blanket around me. The pain in my back didn’t go unnoticed by my dazed state. I slowly stretched my limbs, trying to not knock over the piles of books. Getting up was rarely this hard. Well, except for those once in a blue moon lazy mornings with Dean…Once I stood on both my feet, I prepared myself for another day of fruitless research.

It was around 10 AM when Rowena crashed into the bunker. She seemed happy this morning, not phased by my surprised expression at all. “I found another spell”, she said as she put a heavy stack of books on the table with a loud thud. “It’s a very  ancient one that I will adapt to the modern days.” The spells had failed so many times that I was past the excited state. When she saw my lack of reaction, she added, “Well, dear. I have a wee bit of hope that this spell will work.” I raised an eyebrow and replied,  “You said that the last time. And the other times before that one. And I still don’t know where Dean is.” Wow, it came out harsher than I intended to. I knew that she was doing what she could. But I couldn’t help but feel on edge with all the useless magic crap at this point. Even if I knew she was a bit upset, she still had her sassy expression when she replied, “Being a witch is not just looking fabulous and flying on a broomstick, dearie. It’s also doing research and trying spells. That means trials and errors as well.” She was right, of course, but I was desperate for answers. “I’m sorry, Rowena. You’re right. I didn’t have to lash out at you like that.” She just patted my shoulder and threw me a little smile. Unlike the brothers, my relationship with Rowena wasn’t that strained. 

“Are you ready to perform?” she asked. Deep down, I wasn’t ready because the sole thought of failing again drove me crazy. But you can’t know until you try, right? So I just replied, “Yeah. Let’s get ready. What do you need for this one?”  She looked at a list in her hand and enumerated, “I’ll need candles, a map of the country, something of his, a picture of him and the blood of one of his relatives to do this spell. The rest is provided by your fabulous witch.” She said as she designated herself in an elegant move of hand. “But wait, how will it work? And we don’t even know if they’re still in the country or even this realm.” I finally asked. 

She consulted her paper again and told me, “Once everything is in the bowl, I’ll perform the spell. And then, I’ll dip the pendulum in the bowl and place it above the map. The pendulum will find the start of Dean’s journey, which means the location of the bunker and will drip the blood on it. The blood will get absorbed by the map and trace the entire path taken to his final destination. Then you’ll find your loverboy again, dearie.” She then patted my shoulder and added “They’re still in the country, Fergus might be vicious but he sometimes lacks imagination. How can I possibly be related to him?” I looked at her, half hopeful, half desperate and nodded my head. In return, she simply smiled at me. As she began to prepare her improvised altar, I ran as fast as I could in the bunker to find what she needed. I came back with one of his old bracelets, a map, candles and a picture of him next to Baby.

When I arrived, Rowena had set everything and was reading one of the heavy leather-bound books she brought. The moment she noticed me, she lifted her head and sent me a smile. We laid the map on the altar, lit the candles and placed the bracelet and the picture on the large bowl. ”So, everything is in place, I’ll just need...” She didn’t finish her sentence as a loud noise behind us made us jump. Sam just came back. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Rowena. “Hello, Y/N and, uh, Rowena,” he said, visibly surprised. “Well. Hello Samuel. You’re right in time for once.” He seemed a little scared and asked, “Right on time for what?” So I explained, “Rowena found another spell, but to perform it, we’ll need the blood of a relative of Dean.” As he took the information in, he just nodded and asked, “Okay. Do you need just a drop or more?” She gave him an athame and told him. “You’ll have to slice the palm of your left hand and make your blood drip on the bowl. But not until I said the incantation for the third time. It is extremely important. When I use the pendulum, I’ll need you both to chant ‘Orientem Occidentem Septentrionem et Meridiem monstrant viam ab uno absente captam’, okay?” Sam looked at her, then me and nodded again.

Rowena then began the ritual. She breathed deeply before singing her incantation. “Orientem Occidentem Septentrionem et Meridiem monstrant viam ab uno absente captam” she sang in a deep voice. She was moving her hands toward each cardinal point above the bowl. A tingling sensation of electricity in the air made the atmosphere tense. So much so that I could feel the hair at the back of my head rising and goosebumps forming on my arms. I was holding my breath the whole time, anxiety filling my veins. By the way Sam looked everywhere around him, I knew he was as anxious as me. When Rowena reached the third time reciting, Sam sliced his left hand as indicated and as she kept singing. 

The lights of the bunker began to flicker, and the bowl produced the noise of something bubbling and thin steam could be seen. I swiftly approached Sam to wrap his hand in a clean cloth. She then plunged her pendulum into the blood, and it began to rotate in search of the bunker. Sam and I began to sing. After a few rotations above the Kansas area, the pendulum finally stopped and touched the map. “Keep singing!” she ordered as she closed her eyes and began to sing with us. The tension in the air increased, making it hard to breathe. Then, it happened. A faint red line was finally forming itself on the map, beginning at the location of the bunker and continuing. It was the first time I felt this hopeful in weeks.

Suddenly, the thin steam erupting from the bowl became thicker. And some lightbulbs around us exploded in a terrible noise. Sam and I both looked at each other. “Uh, Rowena, is it normal?” asked Sam, coughing a little. Rowena kept her eyes closed, “What is it, Samuel?” But before we could say anything, the smoke became thick black in an explosion sound, and the map began to burn almost instantly on the altar. Sam and I immediately tried to stop it from burning. Rowena opened her eyes, completely startled by the sudden commotion. Her eyes widened when she saw what was happening. “No, no, no! It wasn’t supposed to burn!” she screamed as she tried to help us stop the fire. But it was too late. It was almost in ashes. I barely had time to see the red line stopped dead in its tracks to God knows where. It was merely at the frontier of Kansas. To say that I was devastated was an understatement. We were so close! I could see the deception in Sam’s eyes as well.

Everything happened very fast in a  short period. So fast that I struggled to process it. It gave me the weird sensation that I was in a dream, that it couldn’t be real. Just like Dean’s death. It was pushing me over the edge. All my repressed feelings came to the surface. The sadness, guilt, grief, and anger suddenly blinded me, “Son of a bitch! What the hell had happened?! It wasn’t supposed to end like an election for the new pope!” I screamed. Rowena had a sorry look in her eyes.”I’m sorry, darling. I guess it means he doesn’t want us to find him. But I’ll keep looking for a new spell.”, she said as she tried to arrange the mess with Sam. I heard her mumbling "Sometimes Fergus makes me hate myself for participating in that orgy back then." Sam then spoke in an hopeful tone, “I heard about a series of weird murders before coming here. It could be linked to Dean.” I simply nodded my head, trying to keep my emotions at bay to not lashing out on someone. I was trembling, and my heartbeat was wild and erratic. I wanted to smash everything around me, but this mess wasn’t anyone’s fault but Crowley’s. So I breathed deeply and began to help them. 

Later in the day, I decided to seclude myself in my old room to take a nap. The dream was weird, once again. This time, there was a gorgeous blond woman. She was serving a beer to someone. The next part was Casa Erotica worthy but I couldn’t see who was with her. I woke up instantly. I was going crazy. Somehow, I truly felt like I was spying on her, like it wasn’t a regular dream. I finally fell asleep again but this time, all the dream showed me was the name “Black Spur Bar” and then a map with the name Beulah, North Dakota shining bright. This time, I almost fell off my bed. Maybe it wasn’t just a dream? I had to tell Sam.

I sprinted out of my room, hoping to find Sam in the Bunker. Luckily, I heard him speak to someone in his room. He was at his desk, looking at his computer, taking notes with his phone in hand.” Drew Neely, you say? I’ll check this…” I nearly screamed “Sam, sorry to interrupt you but I think we need to go to Beulah in North Dakota.”  With a surprised expression, Sam looked at me and said “Sorry, Cas. Y/N has something to say. I’ll put you on a loudspeaker so you can interact with us. Now, Y/N, will you explain please.”

Part.3 soon

Taglist

@hobby27 @deans-spinster-witch @muhahaha303 @kazsrm67

[paarthurnax59]

Little Sparrow

warning: swearing, violence, MOCDean, angst, breakup.

Chapter 1

    Never in your life have you seen Dean this angry. You knew that it was all directed at you. Charlie had been killed by the Steins while trying to find the Book of the Damned. It was the key to help Dean get rid of the Mark on his arm. You volunteered to go and protect the book after she received death threats from the Stein family and wanted to throw them off the scent. Charlie wasn’t having it. She told you that she would protect the book in a secluded cabin after she found it. She told you both that she would be safe and so would the book. 

Turns out you were wrong. 

  You and the boys try as hard as you could to get to Charlie on time. Dean practical rushed to the cabin that Charlie was hiding out in. You nearly threw up when you saw Charlie’s body in that tub covered in her own blood. She had been brutally murdered by the Steins.

Now, y0u all watched as Charlie’s body burn on the pyre and heard Sam say a few words about your friend making you cry. You wanted to say a few of your own, feeling somewhat at fault for what happened to Charlie.

 “Charlie, I’m sorry f-”

“Don’t!” Dean barked at you, stopping you from talking about Charlie, making both you and Sam look at him with your jaw dropped when he shouted at you.

“Dean, knock it off.” Sam chastised him for telling you to stop talking about Charlie, but Dean was not letting up.

“No, Sam! This is her fault! If she hadn’t lied to me about the book, Charlie would be here right now! (Name) has no right to be talking about her! Her body wouldn’t be burning on that pyre right now if (Name) would have just told me the truth!” Dean yelled and then turned to you, aiming all his ire on you. Noticing Dean looking at you with the most rage-filled snare. “You just had to let her take the fall. You knew what was coming after her, and you just let her take the fall. Now she’s gone and she’s not coming back!” 

“Baby, I’m sorry. I tried-”

“SHUT UP! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! YOU DON’T GET TO TALK OUT OF THIS ONE! YOU LIED TO ME!” He shouted and made you flinch when Dean’s booming voice now terrified you. All of a sudden, Dean then picked you up by the neck, as he started to cut off your air supply. Sam, dismayed by his actions tried to get Dean off of you. 

“DEAN! STOP IT! LET HER GO! YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HER!!!” Sam yelled as he tried to pull Dean away from you, but Dean was not budging. Sam wasn’t strong enough to gt Dean to put you down, and he threw his own brother back to the ground making him groan in pain. 

“Sam!” You choked out while you watched poor Sam being thrown the ground trying to get up.

“Look what you made me do! Sam’s hurt trying to protect you! Just like Charlie! You’re not worth protecting! Charlie didn’t deserve to die! She was an innocent civilian If anyone deserved to be on that pyre having their flesh burn to a crisp, IT’S YOU!!!” Dean finally dropped you the ground, and you groaned in pain, chanting out apologies repeatedly. Dean spat at you and just glared at you with nothing but pure hatred. Your eyes brimming with tears looking up at your boyfriend. What has happened to him? Was this because of the Mark of Cain?

“Dean, just leave her alone!” Sam tried to get up from where Dean had thrown him and tried to steady himself while holding his arm. “It’s not her fault! Charlie knew the risks, she volunteered for this! We all loved her, including (Name)! and she wouldn’t want you to be attacking her!”

“It should have been (Name), not Charlie. She is a hunter, and she was supposed to protect people.” Dean spat back from behind him, not even taking Sam’s words into consideration and then turned to you with a very blood thirsty look on his face. “I want you gone.”

“What?!” Both you and Sam yelled with wide eyes at Dean as he turned away from you. 

“I don’t need a liar for a girlfriend, especially one that lets her friends get brutally murdered. You are a sad sorry excuse for a hunter and friend.” Dean’s words made your heart crack in two. You could believe what you were hearing. this had to be a dream. A bad one. “I don’t know why I ever wasted my time on you. You are weak, (Name). I just wish it didn’t take me losing a good friend to see that. I wish I had never met you.” He nailed your heart to the coffin as Dean slowly walked away from the site, without looking back at you. Sam, with his mouth open wide looking at his brother, was silent. He got up from the ground and rubbed his head, trying to rub the pain away. He looked at you as you cried on the ground and walked over to you.

 “Are you okay, (Name)?” Sam asked as looked at your shaking form. He never seen you looking so heart broken and distraught. 

“No, I’m not.” You answered honestly while Sam tried to reach out to you with his hand extended. Looking up at the taller brother and shook your head. “I don’t need help getting up, Sam.” You swat away his hand, making Sam jump. 

“(Name), you were nearly choked to death by Dean. Your face was so blue, you would have been gone in a couple of seconds. Let me help you.” Sam pleaded with you still leaving his hand out to you. You sighed and accepted Sam’s hand and he lifted you up with ease. “He didn’t mean it, (Name). He still loves you deep down. It’s the Mark. You know he hasn’t been himself since he’s got it.  You know the kind of person he is without it. He always cared about you. You have to-”

“Just…Stop it, Sam!” You cried loudly as Sam shut up. It made him take a step away from you when you snapped at him. You looked up at him and the feeling of guilt starts to sink in. “I’m Sorry, Sam. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” You sobbed softly while trying to wipe away your tears. “I think it’s best if I leave right now. I am not safe around Dean and me staying here would only make it worse. All his ire is focused on me and I think I need to be away from here for a while. If Dean still wants me around after he gets that mark off.” You admitted. “I know what’s going on, Sam. The mark is getting stronger and it’s desire to kill is slowly making Dean lose control. I have seen it time and time again, the mark taking control and he ends up with someone’s blood staining his clothes. When Dean killed Claire’s foster dad, it broke my heart seeing her sobbed. I don’t wish that on anyone.”

“You know Dean wants you. You have to understand that this isn’t him, (Name).” Sam argued, his heart breaking at your story. 

“I don’t know if I am so sure anymore, Sam.” You say as you walk away and back to the bunker, as Sam looked at you with tear filled eyes.

….

   A week had gone by, and you were now staying at Jody’s until you can figure out where you were to go from here. Sam had tried one more attempt at telling you to stay, but you just wouldn’t have it. In your heart, you want to believe him. You truly wanted to. However, after the way Dean had not only blamed you for Charlie’s death, but also tried to kill you. Like your life was disposable. Like Charlie’s death matter more to him then your possible demise screamed something.  Not that Charlie deserved what she got. In fact, she deserved way better than being brutally murdered by the Steins. You will never forget the sight of her body covered in her own blood. That will haunt you for the rest of your days. 

   After a week of Dean not contacting you, you figured that he didn’t want to talk to you. You kept thinking over what he said about you being weak. It hurt to hear that Dean thought you were not capable of defending yourself and others. It hurt to no end knowing that the man you loved, Mark of Cane of not, didn’t want you around. As you were leaving the bunker, he looked at you with a smirk on his face. It showed he was glad you were leaving and possibly not coming back. Like he was happy to be rid of you. If this really was the Mark’s intention, to drive you away, then it succeeded.

Dean's hand print still lingers onto your neck, making you have to resort to using excessive amounts of makeup. You wore turtle neck sweaters so that the bruises seemed less noticable. It faded even as you try to hide it. Just barely, though. Everyday, when you look at yourself in the mirror, you see that dark red hand print made by Dean, reminding you of who made that mark.

“Hey, (Name). Dinners almost ready, you hungry?” Jody asked you still unpacking some of your stuff. 

“Yeah, I’m starving. Thanks again Jody. For letting me stay here.” You thank the kind policewoman with a small smile. 

“It’s no problem, honey. I love having you here.” She said as she left the doorway and down the stairs to finish dinner. You continued to go through your stuff when suddenly a blond-haired teenager came to invade your alone time by plopping her form on her bed.

“Claire! You are on my stuff!” You chastised her but all she did was shrug at you with not a care in the world. 

“Good to see you too, (Last name).” She said sarcastically said as she got up from your bed. “So, Jody told me that you and Dean had a falling out? Can you tell me more?” You stopped what you were doing after Claire mentioned yours and Dean’s break up. 

“It’s complicated, Claire. I rather not talk about it.” You denied her the conversation as you continued to put clothes away in the closet. She huffed as she got up from her bed, but still not have left your room. 

“He dumped you right?” She asked abruptly, which made you stop unpacking your clothes. 

“Yes, but it’s more than that, Claire. A friend of ours died and…” You leaned against the dresser. You sighed deeply while trying not to think back that day that you saw Charlie’s body lying dead in that bathtub. 

“He blamed you?” She inquired, not really liking how she was being too nosy with your personal life with the older Winchester. “(Name)…” She sighed sadly, you were about to tell her to stop talking when suddenly your phone went off. You looked to your dresser and grabbed the phone that was only used for emergency cases. You looked at the caller ID and saw it was all the way from Rome. 

“No way…” You answered in a whisper with the feeling that you knew where the phone call was from. You quickly answered and pulled the phone to your ear. “Hello, (Name) (Last Name) speaking.”

“Buongiorno, Paressa.” Said the male voice on the other line with a strong Italian accent. You looked to Claire and told her that she needed to step out of your room and she does. 

“Cardinal Jinette.” You uttered, not believing you would be hearing from him again. “It’s good to hear from you.” 

“And you, (Name). I’m glad to be able to speak with you. However, we don’t have much time for chatting as of now.”  Said the elderly man over the phone. Cardinal Jinette was the leader of the Holy Order, an old Organization formed in Europe during the medieval era. Your history with him goes back far into your early teen years. “I am afraid that we need your help. We need you to come back to Vatican City. Immediately.”  He said so abruptly making your eyes wide.

“Cardinal, Are you sure? There are others that you can call. What about…”

“He is the reason I am calling, Paressa. He is missing and we need your tracking skills to find him.”  He debated with you. He knew exactly who you were talking about, and you gasped with dread starting to seep into your thoughts. So, without a second thought or any further need of persuasion.

“Okay, I will be there as soon as I can.”

Chapter 2

Please like, comment and share! thank you so much for reading!

[rubyvhs]

CHASING FIRE

pairing. firefighter!dean x sex addict!fem!reader

wc. ongoing

summary. dean, a well known and respected firefighter helps you through something you never thought you’d get help for and falls for you along the way. dean winchester saves your life and, unknowingly, you save his — think fire country meets addicted to you (by krista and becca ritchie).

tags. reader is a sex addict, which is something I did research heavily before writing and a lot of it is from the addicted to you books. mentions of hiv/aids, cursing, smoking, smut between reader and dean but also mentioned reader x moc and just soo many mentions of sex and pornography. a little bit of blood and injuries because of dean’s job, chapters will be tagged accordingly.

꩜ .ᐟ deal with it — deans pov

꩜ .ᐟ pounding rhythm — your pov

꩜ .ᐟ seconds, hours — deans pov

꩜ .ᐟ silver spoon — your pov

꩜ .ᐟ goddamn patience — deans pov

[kaleldobrev]

Prologue — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Unnamed Hunter Boyfriend (OC)

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.5k

Chapter Warnings: Age Gap (15 years) & Self-Loathing Dean

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | Thoughts are in italics | Switches between reader & Dean's POV but it's still written in the second person | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

Dean sat on the edge of his bed looking at his surroundings that he hadn’t seen in so long. Although it’s only been a few months, it felt like an eternity to him. Everything was still in the exact same place he had left it; and he wasn’t sure if he should be relieved about that or not.

Being in his bedroom back in the Bunker came with a wide variety of emotions. He was happy to be back in a place that he had called home for the past several years, a place where he was finally able to have his own room again since he was four years old. But yet, there was another part of him that wanted to take his keys and drive off somewhere. He loved Sam, he loved Cas but, it was hard to face them again after everything he had done, and after everything he had put them through. Not only during the months he was gone, but during the short amount of time they were trying to cure him of a disease he strangely enjoyed.

“You weren’t you,” Sam had told him repeatedly as if he was a broken record. But Dean didn’t believe his words for a second. He enjoyed being a demon more than he liked to admit. Being able to kill whoever he wanted whenever he wanted without consequence fueled him. Being able to fuel the Mark was easy, being a demon was easy. Being a demon weirdly came natural to him.

Sitting at your desk, you endlessly scrolled through news story after news story, trying to find any excuse to leave your apartment, as it was a place that was currently not giving you the usual sense of peace it tended to provide you. Your apartment was usually your safe space, a place that you could relax and unwind in after a tough hunt. But ever since your boyfriend moved in, it had become a place that you no longer felt safe and calm in.

You and your boyfriend hadn't been together for that long — roughly a year — but during a majority of your relationship, it has been argument after argument, and the arguments were always about the same couple of things. He was either disrespecting you or upset that you didn't bring him along on one of your hunting trips.

He hadn't been a hunter for long — barely two years — and you met him within his first year. You had met him while on a werewolf case, as the two of you found the same lead and decided to work together since he really had no experience with werewolves. For some reason, the two of you clicked, and had been together ever since.

Whenever you and him tended to get into an argument, you wondered why you were still with him, knowing that you could do better. He didn't treat you right, and often undermined you in front of other hunters, sometimes taking credit for your own hunts. You tried to rationalize it, often saying that he was the best you were ever going to do because there was no way you could be with someone that wasn't a hunter, as you felt being with someone that wasn't one would put them in more harm, and you couldn't risk it. But the words of your mother started echoing in your head now, "It's better to be alone than to be with someone who disrespects you." You knew she was right; she was always right.

As you were about to give up, a news story finally jumped out at you, and it screamed poltergeist — your specialty.

Dean stared up at the ceiling, wanting more than anything to fall asleep; but the events of the last few months kept replaying in his head. "You weren't you," Sam's words repeated again and again.

No matter how many times Sam's words repeated, Dean still refused to believe it, as when he was a demon, he felt more like himself than he had been in such a long time; and that scared him.

The things that he did as a demon he would have done regardless; but the only reason he did the things that he did was because he knew there were no consequences, his conscience wasn't trying to stop him. Sam or Cas weren't there to stop him especially.

The Mark started itching again, getting hot with need. I need to kill something, he thought.

Getting off the phone with you, Sam sighed, looking at his slinged arm. There was no way he was going to be able to help you with this case, but it was far too late to call you back now; not after he already agreed to help you. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint you, as you were a big help to him while Dean was gone.

Sam was impressed by you to say the least, as despite your age, you were a damn good hunter with a decent amount of experience under your belt. He hadn't known you for very long — meeting you within the last couple of months — but you had quickly become someone he had grown to deeply trust; and he was incredibly thankful for that, and thankful for you.

Placing his phone back into his pocket, he grabbed his duffel bag and started packing some of the essentials. The case you asked him to join you on was one that was pretty straightforward, so he assumed it wouldn't take more than a couple of days. That's when his mind started to wander, wondering why you had asked for his help in the first place, as poltergeists were one of your specialties and it was the type of case that you could do in your sleep, but yet, you asked him for help.

Closing up your laptop, you grabbed it bringing it over to your bed, before going underneath it and grabbing your duffel. You started packing all of the essentials for a case that would only take you a couple of days. The case was an easy one, one that you could easily do in your sleep, but yet, you called Sam Winchester to help you. There was a small twinge of regret after you got off the phone with him, and you debated back and forth as you packed to call him back up again and tell him, 'Never mind, I got this Sammy.' But deep down, you wanted the company; you wanted to be with someone that treated you like an equal unlike your boyfriend.

"Going on a case?" Your boyfriend asked from behind you.

You turned to look at him for a moment, and he was leaning against the doorway, staring at you as you packed. "Yes," you said, plainly. Even if you weren't going on a case, you felt like you didn't need to explain anything to him.

"Where's the case? I can join you," he offered. But his offer wasn't a genuine one, as the only reason he offered to go with you was to try and make up the argument to you in some way. But you weren't in the mood for any of his gestures.

"Tulsa," you said. "I already called another hunter to help me."

"What hunter?" He asked, making his way to the bed so he could sit down on the edge like he usually did whenever you were attempting to pack for a case.

You looked at him again, annoyed that he kept interrupting your packing. He didn't need to know what hunter was going with you, and he didn't know where the case was going to be. But yet, you felt like you needed to tell him in order to get him off your back. "Sam Winchester," you said simply, and you saw his eyes grow wide.

"Sam Winchester?" He questioned. "Really?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with Sam Winchester?" You asked, curious as to what he had to say about him, as you knew he had never met him. But there were times when you and him would be spending time with fellow hunters, and he would claim that he knew Sam; a bold statement that, whenever said, you tried to hold back a laugh.

“Nothing it’s just…the Winchester’s tend to get a lot of their partners killed,” he said. Your brows furrowed, not only because you were confused on where he heard that, but you’ve hunted with Sam a few times already, and your boyfriend never brought that up to you before.

“I’ve hunted with Sam a few times now, and I’m still alive,” you said, zippering up your duffel. “He’s a great hunting partner, very careful.”

“For now, you’re alive and for now he’s being careful. What happens when he bails on you to save himself?” Your boyfriend asked, his tone excitable now.

“I don’t know because I know for a fact that won’t happen,” your tone was serious and stern, defensive. Despite not knowing Sam for a long time, you trusted him more on hunts than your own boyfriend. “I trust Sam.”

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 1

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[daughterofcain-67]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊 : 𝖕𝖙1

(MOC!Dean Winchester x Female Reader)

(Raised in Blood Masterlist)

(The Curse Masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it had been several months since you left Sam and Dean behind in the bunker and Dean has had enough of the mark on his arm. Luckily for him, Dean has a brother who is willing to help him find a way to get rid of the Mark of Cain, but there are only so many leads and who’s to say that all methods out there are useful?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: spn level violence, gore which may be graphic for some audiences, an addition of characters that are not in the show

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is a sequel to the Raised in Blood series, masterlist is linked at the top. In order to understand some of the references to the reader’s past and her relationship with Dean it would be advisable to read the first story. Hope you all enjoy! ❤️

Previously…

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

“Sam…” Dean said in a solemn tone.

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

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

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

“You know that I can’t…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now

Dean felt like his arm was being engulfed in flames. For the past several months since you've been gone it had felt as if the mark on his arm had been enraged - as odd as that may even sound.

Although, he had been trying to keep his irritability intact, and trying even harder not to fall into that dark path again. He knew he couldn't afford to become a demon once again and he didn't want to become a monster that kills people without a second thought. Not after he'd been down that road once already.

Dean was sitting down at one of the several tables in the library drinking a glass of whisky neat while Sam claimed he was running off doing some errand with Castiel.

Dean wasn't exactly sure what the two of them planned on doing but whatever it was, he knew they were at least trying to help Dean finally get the mark off his arm. He couldn't take it anymore, not after what he did to those men that almost hurt Claire. It made Dean sick to even think about what they could've done. A part of him delighted in the thought of ripping them to shreds all over again but as soon as those dreadful memories started to come back, the more guilty Dean began to feel and the more desperate he became to be rid of the curse.

As he lifted the glass up to his lips he finally heard a door open, only to hear the sound of the most annoying, aggravating voice he'd ever heard.

"What makes you think I'll ever help you after you imprisoned me?! You and the angel are both crazy!"

"Metatron?" Dean grumbled under his breath but rather than going over to Sam to confront him, he just watched as his little brother took him down to the dungeon they had there in the bunker.

As Dean listened to the way that God-forsaken angel grumble and complain, Dean started to remember the last fight he had before he became a demon. He remembered the adrenaline coursing in his blood, the determination he had to gut the bastard until his insides were on the outside.

He remembered being so close to finally killing the bastard only for the blade Metatron had to go through his chest. And the very second that happened, everything began to change.

Before his mind could dwell too much on that transformation, he heard his phone buzz while it was on top of the table just for Sam's name to show up.

SW: You may wanna come in here if you want to help me find answers.

Dean had to admit, he was a little astonished that Sam even wanted Dean to help with the interrogation. Even then, Dean knew Sam wouldn't let him take things too far. All Dean could do was hope he wouldn't take things too far in the first place, but when it came to someone like Metatron, there were no promises to be made.

Dean got up from his chair, downed the last if the whiskey in the glass before he set it back down on the table and started making his way down to the dungeon.

Sure enough, Metatron was still babbling on about his bullshit on how he was guessing was a demon, wanting to know if he had finally snapped - which the answer to all of those questions were a simple 'yes' whether Dean wanted to admit it or not.

But when Dean finally made his appearance, he saw the baffled look on Metatron's face. The initial reaction was nearly worth all the Hell Dean had been through with this whole ordeal... almost.

"So... you found your way back to the land of the living... well isn't that a bitch." Metatron finally said as he looked over at Sam.

"How'd you manage to pull that off? Did you actually get your hands a little dirty for once instead of making Dean the black sheep of your little family?"

"You know what forget the mark and kill him now." Dean grumbled, not even wanting Metatron to be the one that helped him. There was no way he'd be that cooperative anyway.

"Oh man.. he must really be a mess. Who knew the mark was so toxic?" Metatron said before cutting himself off.

"Actually, maybe I did. But nobody likes a spoiler in a story." He continued and Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes as Sam started to talk.

"Yeah so how do we get it off?"

"What? No more social hour? Come on, I've just been out of prison where no one would talk to me. Maybe I have more to say than you think."

"Well we're not here for socializing so we're moving on to the next part of the agenda." Sam continued on.

"That part would be us asking the questions, you give us the answers, unless you'd rather do things the hard way where I beat the answers out of you." Dean glared.

"What makes you assume I won't help you right away? Don't tell me you're truly that easy to antagonize now. Are you really that irritable with all of this? Gosh that mark is probably going to own you sooner rather than later if you keep that up." Metatron continued then he looked up at Dean and gave him a knowing, sly and nearly malicious smile.

"Imagine how agonizing it must be without its other half."

Somehow Dean knew exactly what this angelic son of a bitch was referring to and with two mighty stomps and a large hand suddenly around Metatron's throat he spoke, "You leave her name or any implication of her out of your damned mouth before I carve out your tongue."

"You do that, and you'll never know how to get that mark off your arm."

"Then spit it out already. It's not like it's that much of a pleasure keeping you down here." Sam said.

"Speak for yourself Sammy. I'd love to let him rot." Dean said and removed his hand from the angel's throat.

"Okay than..." Metatron cleared his throat to the best of his ability.

"Well.. the first thing you need is going to be an old friend of yours. And that would be the one, and the only, First Blade."

Dean heard the two final words that came out of Metatron's mouth, and it was like the mark began to pulse on his arm just at the mention of the name. Dean's hand slowly formed a fist and he could practically feel the familiar touch of the blade's handle as if he truly had a grip on it, then he looked at Metatron.

"As I said before... isn't life a bitch?"

"Son of a bitch..." Dean muttered as he walked out of the dungeon.

Sam watched Dean turn on his heel and walk out before he glared at Metatron.

"That's all you can tell us? The only thing you can come up with?" Sam asked and Metatron gave an 'innocent' little shrug.

"It's all you're getting out of me for the time being."

Sam's jaw tightened before he got up from the table he'd been sitting on and he followed Dean out of the dungeon, slamming the door behind him.

"I thought you and Castiel said you had an idea of how to get the mark off. And you brought Metatron? Didn't you tell me Y/N told you something that could help? There's no way in the darkest part of Hell that she'd suggest this bullshit." Dean said.

"If you hadn't let her go then we would've been a Hell of a lot further in looking into her lead but as of right now there have been no leads on the Book of the Damned she was talking about. Metatron is the best we've got and even then his plan is a terrible idea." Sam retorted.

Dean went quiet for a moment, brows knitting together as the mark on his arm pulsed in anger yet again and felt like it was burning all over again at the thought of letting you just leave. He wanted so badly for you to stay but he knew you had your reasons. He just hated that it felt like he hadn't tried hard enough to make you stay.

Then there was the matter of the First Blade. He knew it was more than just a 'bad idea' for him to wield that weapon again. Especially when he killed several men practically the first chance he got when he was left alone.

"Don't tell me you're actually giving the Frist Blade a legitimate thought. You know it's horrible and you can't be trusted with it!"

"I'm not saying I have to use it or that I need to be in any kind of contact with it, but what if this is the shot we need to take? Yeah, Metatron can be a lying son of a bitch, but if we can't even find a single lead on the Book of the Damned then this might just be the next best thing we can come up with." Dean tried to explain while Sam ran a large hand through his hair.

"How can we know whether or not this will actually work? We don't even know what he wants us to do with the damned thing."

"So for now we just play it safe, alright? We obtain the blade, you don't tell me where it is, we learn the spells and that's that. We don't even know if I even need to touch it."

"Wait a minute wait a minute, what if this is really the mark trying to get you to get a hold of it again? How do you know it doesn't have a stronger hold again?" Sam asked, the skepticism evident in his tone.

"It's not the mark, and no I don't trust anything about this Sam but this is the best thing we can come up with right now."

"No it isn't." Sam said and Dean turned around for a moment.

"I'm not doing that and you know it."

"Why the Hell not? Maybe she's had more luck on finding the book than we have and we can get you safely out of this mess without the blade!"

"I'm not calling Y/N - that's final."

There were terrified screams all around you, tortured voices of men, women and children all crying out in agony. There was red everywhere as you walked around your surroundings. The boots you wore were sticky with blood as a result of each step you took. The metallic smell invaded your senses and yet you didn't have much of a reaction. You'd grown accustomed to the aroma of death all your life and this was just the beginning.

"M-Mama, I'm scared. Mama, please, w-wake up!" a little boy, not much older than you said with tears in his eyes as he gripped tightly onto the collar of his mother's dress.

You walked over to the boy and he must've seen your shadow. He slowly turned around and you could see the fear in his eyes.

"Y-You.. You're just a girl."

"Don't worry... you'll get to be with your Mama soon enough." You said and you pulled a knife from the pocket of your blood-soaked dress.

When the boy tried to run, your demonic speed allowed you to speed up and appear in front of him and you slashed his throat without giving him a second to blink. You could still feel his last breath brush your cheek as he tried to gasp for air before he fell to the ground.

You turned around and looked up as a demon with fiery red hair walked up to you. Her eyes black as onyx and lips as red as crimson tugged upward into a smile, a sickeningly prideful one at that.

"Well done, Y/N. You've passed this exam. Once you return home we'll begin the next steps in your training." Abaddon said.

Your mother stepped behind you and placed her hands on your shoulders before turning you around so you could see your reflection in one of the windows that somehow remained intact after all the chaos you'd spread.

The reflection showed a little girl who's eyes were glowing red yet there was no expression on the little girl's face. Her dress was once white and it had been stained in various shades of red. In her hand, there was a knife and on her arm, there was a cursed mark that the girl had been cursed to bare since birth, the same mark her father was cursed with by God himself. The blood was spattered on her face and yet it seemed to be another ordinary day for this girl without a soul.

"To this day, no one truly knows what really happened to the people who disappeared on Roanoke Island."

You blinked once or twice as the voice brought you out of your trance and you suddenly felt a wave of nausea hit you. The tour was over anyway so you rushed off to the nearest bathroom and locked yourself in one of the stalls.

Once your stomach contents were emptied, you slowly rose back up and wiped your lip with a Kleenex tissue from the packet you had stored in your pocket. You were glad you were at least prepared, but you hadn't anticipated something like this happening.

You were visiting the place where your first exam took place. Apparently, it was currently known as Dare County, off the North Carolina coast.

You weren't sure why you thought visiting such a morbid place was such a good idea for you. You hadn't expected the impact of the memories to hit you the way that it had. Then again, you were still trying to grow accustomed to human emotion now that you were no longer a demon thanks to the Winchesters.

You tossed the Kleenex into the bowl and flushed before exiting the stall to clean yourself up. The sickening feeling never left you though.

Now that you were visiting this place once more, you could almost hear all of the voices and the screams again. You could even remember that little boy's expression before he died.

Being human sucked, now that you know what guilt felt like. It didn't help that you were beginning to learn the emotional aspects of what trauma could do to a person. Abaddon truly was a monster for raising a child the way she did.

You were nearly glad Dean was the one that killed her. If it had been you, the result may have been more disastrous.

Once you had washed your hands and your mouth, you took some gum you had in your pocket and placed a piece in your mouth before tossing the trash away and you made your way outside.

"Hey there, you alright?"

A voice startled you, causing you to glance over. Upon seeing an ordinary looking man, you calmed down a little. He seemed to be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties but not likely.

He was tall, had short dark hair and deep brown eyes that seemed to be filled with some sort of concern. Although you thought he looked familiar... maybe he was a part of the tour you were just on.

"I'm fine, thank you." You finally answered and you saw a small grin appear on his face.

"Here, let me get you some water or something from one of the vending machines. You look kinda pale, maybe some hydration will help."

Your brow arched upward. You had to admit you were still trying to get used to the kindness some humans seemed to show. Nevertheless, you decided to take this stranger up on his offer. Anything was better than the current taste in your mouth despite the spearmint gum you were chewing.

"Sure. Thank you." You followed this man to a nearby vending machine and he grabbed a dollar bill, inserted it into the machine and once he selected a water bottle he grabbed it from the dispenser and handed it over to you.

"Thank you again.. umm...."

"Ab- uh... Abe."

"Frog in your throat there, Abe?" You asked with an arched brow and he simply smiled at you, broader than the smile from before. Then you saw something in his eyes.

His gaze seemed warm but they looked as if they held so many secrets from literal eons ago. He may have looked young physically, but there was definitely something about him that was ancient, seemingly as old as time.

"Take a walk with me. It's getting too crowded here." Even though this felt more like a demand rather than an invitation, you didn't quite feel threatened by this man. So you followed him outside so the two of you could take your stroll and you drank some of the water he'd bought for you.

"So, what brings you to this part of town? I don't think I've seen you around here." Abe asked.

"Oh, um... I'm taking a bit of a road trip and I have a bit of a n interest in history and this mystery has always fascinated me." You said, trying to come up with something on the spot wasn't always easy but you hoped he'd leave it at that.

Shockingly, all he did was hum before he started to speak again.

"There have been a lot of theories about what may have occurred in Roanoke. I think one of the more hilarious theories is the involvement of extraterrestrial beings." He spoke, holding up the conversation.

"You're not one to believe in aliens?"

"I didn't say that. I believe God has a creative, even imaginative mind. I'm sure He grew curious as to what other intelligent life He could make worship Him even if they aren't in His likeness. But no, I know His other creations haven't come to meddle in the matters of Earth back then."

Okay, this conversation was beginning to take a weird turn. Abe started to speak as if he knew the All Father and it was a little unsettling. Had you come across an angel? This couldn't be a safe situation considering you had been nothing but a demon up until this point.

"Look, I know you angels aren't fond of demons, especially since the Winchesters foiled the plans of the End Times, but I've done my best to keep out of your mess for centuries." You stated, prepared to get onto the defensive. Yet all Abe did was let out a chuckle.

"You know very little despite living for a long time, Y/N." Your eyes widened for a moment. You didn't recall ever giving Abe your name in response, so how did he know who you were?

"Who are you?" You asked warily.

Abe glanced down at you r arm and you watched as his gaze seemed to soften, "Someone who should be the one carrying your curse."

Your brows narrowed with confusion but the man looked at you again and he took a gentle hold of your hand before lifting your arm up to him as if to get a better look.

"May I?" His tone was shockingly soft and you had a feeling you might've known who this was, yet you didn't want to admit it for yourself. Instead, you just nodded and he let his fingers graze over the mark your family shared.

Your arm tensed and you nearly hissed in pain as the skin burned with sensitivity, "Relax, I'm not here to harm you."

You looked at Abe again and you slowly began to relax. As you continued to observe, Abe closed his eyes and you could tell his shoulders were tensing up a little and when he opened his eyes again, you could see the white glow in his eyes, the same as any other angel.

"A child should never have had to gone through what you did. A child like you should never have been brought into this world for such malicious intensions. Your father would never had stood for this, only because he knows what a curse this is to begin with. He would never want such a thing passed on to anyone with his blood." The glow in his eyes dissipated once more.

"I'll ask again, who are you?"

Abe let out a scoff before he lifted his hand, placing his palm on your forehead, then you began to see something you hadn't anticipated.

"Abel, what are you doing?" A man with black hair and pure blue eyes asked while he walked towards another man at the altar.

Abel was bowing down, muttering a prayer, ignoring his brother's question as he continued his form of worship.

"Abel, this is Blasphemy and you know it. You know God could kill you for this! Look at what He did to Mother and Father because of their disobedience!" Cain reached down and pulled Abel up from his worship and Abel glared at Cain.

"Must you interrupt everything I do, Brother? This is an important meeting! I can get us back into Eden!"

"Ahh, this must be the brother Cain you were speaking of, Dear Abel."

Cain's eyes widened as he heard the voice. It was the same voice his mother Eve had heard hen being tempted to eat the forbidden fruit. The same voice Adam and Eve both had warned their children to ignore.

"Abel this is madness. It was because of Lucifer that we they were cast out! The very reason why we never got to see the Garden and more than likely never will!" Cain tried to reason.

"Cain, I'm far from seeing the garden. I'm far from God's grace as it is. Let me do something to help the three of you go back to where you were always meant to be."

"Abel this is wrong. Turn back from this path. This is your very soul you're talking about! Are you really accepting that you could be cast down with the other angels that fell from Grace?"

"You brother is right, Abel. You will never get into Paradise; you're practically leaving all of your family behind. You'll belong to me for all of Eternity." Lucifer interjected.

Then an idea appeared in Cain's mind. He knew Abel was the favorite of the family. Most even believed Abel was God's favorite. He deserved to go into Paradise.

"Lucifer, let me offer myself in my brother's place. He's young and knows not the mistake he's making by even meeting with you at an alter built for God." Cain began and Abel shoved Cain's shoulder.

"What do you think you're doing? You're going to ruin everything!"

"Lucifer, please. He's a boy and doesn't deserve an eternal damnation. Take me in his place and find a way to get Abel into Heaven instead." Cain bargained.

There were a few moments of eerie silence before Lucifer spoke again.

"I'll accept this bargain. However there will need to be bloodshed." Lucifer finally spoke.

"You must be the one that send your brother into Heaven yourself."

Abel's stomach sank down to his feet at the words. What had he done? Maybe Cain was right? He should have never summoned Lucifer in the first place, and now not only would Abel have to die, but his own brother would have to kill him only to go to Hell for something Abel brought into this world.

"No, I can't be the one to do this." Cain said.

"If not, then an illness will kill him during the evening anyway and Abel will go to Hell despite your plea." Lucifer threatened.

Cain and Abel exchanged glances but Abel was the first to look away, "You don't have to do this. I've brought this upon myself."

"I have to. You deserve to be in Heaven with Mother and Father once they go. You had good intentions even if executed poorly." Cain spoke solemnly before the older brother looked at the reddened flames that personified Lucifer.

"I accept." Cain finally replied.

With that, the reddened flames parted to reveal the skull of a donkey, "Take the bones and manufacture a weapon of choice. This will be used to kill your brother."

Cain swallowed harshly before he walked to the alter and took the bones. He took the jaw bone then he got to work.

He took the jaw bone fragment and a rock to sharpen it the best that he could by grinding the rock against the bone, an attempt to sharpen it, hoping it would speed the process of Abel's death so he wouldn't feel so much pain. After that, Cain took the leather belt from around his waist and wrapped around the section of bone that would serve to be the handle.

Thus.. the First Blade had been created.

With a heavy heart, Cain stood up and he looked at his brother. Abel's jaw was clenched as he tried to put on a brave face.

"I'm sorry to do this, Brother.. but it's for your own good." Cain said and Abel held up a hand to pause Cain from speaking further.

"I've already said I've brought this upon myself. Though you should not be the one going to Hell for this." Abel continued and Cain gripped the handle of the new weapon.

"What's done is done, Abel. Once Mother and Father make it to Heaven.. let them know how much I'll miss them. They won't forgive me for what I'm about to do." Cain said and Abel gave Cain a saddened smile.

"Maybe not... But I do. And you'll need to learn to forgive yourself." Abel said and he walked over to Cain. He lifted his brother's hand that was holding the weapon and pulled it up to his chest.

"I'll explain my mistake once they arrive. Now please, if I'm not going to see the sun rise tomorrow, I'd rather it be by your hand." Abel insisted and Cain looked at his younger brother.

"Please.. close your eyes. I don't think I can do this if they're open." Cain insisted.

Then, with a nod, Abel's eyes closed and Cain plunged the weapon into Abel's chest. Abel let out a hiss in pain and gripped his brother's shoulder so tightly. Then he opened his eyes again to look at Cain one last time.

"I'm sorry to have forced your hand..." He admitted then he let out his final breath, dying in Cain's arms.

Cain gulped harshly as if holding back the emotions he was feeling before he laid Abel on the ground, knowing he would need to tend to the body later.

"Now... since that's finally finished. Now it is time for your end of the deal." Lucifer said and Cain had this unsettling feeling.

"A part of Abel's deal was that he would do something for me. This task is an important one to have and yes, it will come at a cost greater than killing just one person. You're much stronger than your brother, and you seem to be more of a soldier, a might soldier that I'll train you to become and you'll be the leader of a malicious army one day." Lucifer continued, though Cain hardly had the heart to listen to everything. He no longer had the choice to refuse whatever task Lucifer asked of him.

"There is a mark I will give you. Consider it a gift. It will make you stronger than you are now. And this gift will pass on to your direct offspring. They will inherit this gift and they will be stronger and your entire bloodline will last eons."

Whatever gift Lucifer was about to give Cain, he knew better than to know this would be anything good. And he knew he would never want this curse to pass on.

But before Cain could protest or voice his concerns, the reddened fire seemed to take on a life of its own and wrapped itself around one of his arms before one of the flames branded Cain's arm. Cain let out a cry in agony as the flames burned his skin, forming the very mark that would taint him and his actions for the rest of his life.

It was a tragic day as murder entered the world, just as the sin of disobedience had entered the world.

And Cain would forever be known as the Father of Murder from that point on.

As Abel let down his palm from your hand, you opened your eyes and you looked at him with shock.

The man in front of you.. He was your uncle. He was the reason why your father had the mark on his arm. The reason why you were stuck with it because Abaddon wanted to use you to kill Cain because he had killed the Knights of Hell.

"You.. If you hadn't made that deal-" You could feel the anger residing in you and the mark was beginning to ignite in you once again. Everything in you was feeling that human temptation to fall into your murderous ways.

"In your human state you would never be able to kill me. You don't have an angel blade, the First Blade, or any other weapon specializing in celestial slaughter. Think carefully." Abel warned you.

You closed your eyes and you turned away from Abel and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had to collect your thoughts. He was right, you couldn't kill him in this state, and even then you were trying not to fall back into those ways in the first place.

You owed that much to both Sam and Dean since they were the ones that gave you the chance to be human in the first place. After letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding in the first place, you turned around to face Abel once more.

"What did you do? Come all this way to look for me or something? You didn't find me by coincidence." You told him.

"I know you're searching for a way to be rid the mark. You can't get rid of it. It's impossible. Otherwise Cain might've gotten rid of it a long time ago." Abel said to you and you shook your head.

"Cain didn't try hard enough. He didn't want to get rid of the mark badly enough. A third party has received the mark from Cain himself and he doesn't deserve such a curse, and I'm going to find a way to get him out of this mess because it's not his cross to bear. It's mine and Cain's."

Abel softened once more and he rubbed his temple. You could tell there was something formulating in his mind but he was hesitant to tell you.

"If you have something to say then spit it out. Otherwise I need to get back to work." After all, your day off from researching was pretty much shot and it'd been that way since you'd vomited before this encounter.

"You're looking into the Book of the Damned, yes?" Your eyes widened at his words, how did he know about that? And what did he know about the book?

"You need to be careful when you get your hands on this book. I don't know where it is but there are spells within that book that are more dangerous than you can imagine. You and your little friend should consider a different way to get that mark off his arm." He advised and you lifted a brow.

"What could be so dangerous about a few spells?"

"Y/N... There are things in this world that should never be discovered. Some things should remain hidden. The Book of the Damned, the First Blade, even Cain himself should've remained hidden."

"The book is only a few hundred years old. I'm older than that, you're ancient compared to it. When it was created there wasn't any world crushing disasters. It's been hidden this entire time and it's important that we find it because there might not be any other way to get the mark off him." You explained.

"Witchcraft can be just as deadly as some of the seals broken during the end times which your friends managed to stop somehow. There is a reason why witchcraft is a force to be reckoned with. If you do continue looking for this book, be aware that you will not be the only one looking for it. People would kill for it. Not all humans are kind and fragile. Some are monstrous and will sacrifice everything to get what they want."

You listened carefully and you wished that something this important would be just a little bit easier to handle. But you had made up your mind on this already. Even if you could get killed with this human form, you would be able to come back. But Dean deserved better than this curse, so you would do everything you could to spare him from this specific sort of Hell.

"Thank you for the words of caution, but he is a friend. He should not have meddled in things he didn't understand and I'll face the consequences for him." You said before you turned your heel and walked away.

Abel watched as you walked away before he shook his head before muttering under his breath.

"You're more like your father than you realize, child."

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @johannelis2302nely @justtrying2getby-blog @alternativeprincess94 @doctorlexilouwhosblog @deangirl96 @nancymcl @hobby27 @muhahaha303 @k-slla @winchestergirl2

[zepskies]

Podcast Interview With Idling in the Impala: "Y/N and Let Y/N…"

Here we go! Sandra and Kasey, the lovely hosts of @idlingintheimpalapodcast — the podcast for all things SPN and fanfiction — invited me on the pod for an interview…

We chatted about Dean Winchester and Jensen Ackles’ early roles, the best and worst seasons of SPN, the joys and pains of writing Soldier Boy, and much, much more.

That’s right, there be some hot takes coming in this convo, and I had an absolute blast with these two! (And like I said in Sunday's announcement, I’m also putting my name and my voice out there for the first time! 😆)

So if any of that sounds interesting, feel free to dive in!

(**Important Note: Just to preface, we recorded this back in June, so it was before I posted certain stories or even started developing Lost on You. It was also when Tumblr activity/engagement was going through a spring/summer slowdown lol.

Links to all the fics and podfics we mentioned are at the end of this post.)

Have a listen: ⤵️

Interview Timestamps –

(Plus fic recs, SPN writer shoutouts, and more!)

1:44 – Who’s your guy: Sam or Dean?

3:35 – Getting into Supernatural for the first time (and seeing “Deanisms” in Jensen’s early roles).

10:15 – We debate the best and worst seasons of SPN: talking Mary Winchester, the British MOL, MOC Dean vs. Demon Dean, Chuck/God villainy, “jump the shark” moments, and that ending.

30:29 – Favorite SPN characters besides Sam and Dean.

32:34 – Writing fanfiction, joining Tumblr, and writing reader inserts vs. OCs.

38:05 – To “Y/N” or not “Y/N,” and the power of 2nd person. (**Disclaimer: Despite my hot take on this, I’ve loved a lot of stories by authors who use Y/N in reader insert stories.

Also, if I’m remembering the book You and its characters incorrectly forgive me, it’s been like 5 years since I read it lol.) 

51:00 – Favorite fanfic tropes in romance, the joys and challenges of writing Soldier Boy (AKA: the Original Asshole), and attempting to humanize Ben in Break Me Down.

Shoutout to @deans-spinster-witch always for giving me the inspiration to write BMD. 💚

Why We Love The Boys – A review of Supes Ain’t Always Heroes

1:07:57 – Engaging with readers, tips on increasing engagement, optimizing your Tumblr blog, writing schedules and processes, and incorporating reader feedback into stories.

1:26:38 – Sandra graciously narrated Midnight Espresso (Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader). We chat about what sparked the idea for the ME-verse, self-representation in fanfic, feeding Dean, loving Dean, and writing about culture and ethnicity in the fandom space.

1:38:26 – Chatting about the inspirations behind Smoke Eater, a firefighter!Dean AU; law enforcement procedurals, House MD, and researching for stories.

1:44:30 – Which Jackles character is the easiest or most fun to write?

1:47:39 – The challenges of writing Sam vs. Dean.

1:53:15 – Shoutouts! To some of my favorite SPN authors. I could only remember a few people off the top of my head (stupid me), but I love all of you!!

@waynes-multiverse @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @luci-in-trenchcoats @rizlowwritessortof @waywardxwords

@deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings @spnbabe67 @thatonewriter15

@justagirlinafandomworld @kaleldobrev @artyandink @princessmisery666 @wayward-dreamer (– and many more.)

2:00:40 – How I came up with my username.

2:05:04 – Kasey’s Secret Question…

2:07:38 – Advice to fanfic writers and creatives for inspiration and/or wisdom.

2:16:35 – Sandra and Kasey’s lovely outro: self-representation in fandom, escapism, diverse voices, and more. (“Reach out a hand. Touch somebody. …Not like that.”)

📖 Fics Mentioned:

Sandra: @talltalesandbedtimestories -

Some Sunny Day Series – Dean Winchester x OFC - (I'm in the process of reading this entire series and it's been a joy to read! 💜)

Past Due – Dean Winchester x Reader

The Iceman Cometh – Dean Winchester x Reader

Cowboy Canter (Original Fiction) – Inspired by cowboyish Dean/Jensen.

Kasey: @sam-is-my-safe-word -

English Cottage-verse – Sam Winchester x Reader (I've read it and it's fantastic! 💜)

(K)not for sale – Soldier Boy x Dean Winchester

Alex (Zep/Me) -

Break Me Down – Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Midnight Espresso (& the Series Masterlist) – Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Dream With Me – Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Smoke Eater – Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Every Second Counts – Russell Shaw x F. Reader

🎙️ Stories/Podfics Sandra has narrated for me:

Podfic Playlist

And please remember to check out all the other awesome interviews, narrated podfics, and fun topics covered by Sandra and Kasey on the Idling in the Impala Podcast!

[chevroletdean]

Tainted — Chapter 3: Bruised Fruits & Rotten Cores

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

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

⏪PREV. CHAPTER ⏯️PLAYLIST

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least to the demonic part of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To her, everything felt like an eternity lately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the least she could do.

“Will you be okay?,” Sam probed.

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

“Yeah… Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

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

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This whole procedure was seriously messing with his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was then that her phone rang.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Immediately she was hit with a wave of emotion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sending…

Sending…

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

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

Startled by the blackout, her heart sank.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You wanna play dirty, sweetheart?”

His voice appeared right by the door.

And his steps stopped right in front of it.

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Déjà-vu.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Prey trapped in a spider’s web.

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

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

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

“Still upset about the whole unfaithfulness thing?”

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

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

This fucking guy. He was unbelievable.

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

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

The demon definitely deserved that elbow to his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, she shook her head, eyes softening.

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

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

“Since when do we get what we want?”

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

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

“Y/N—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

Dean Winchester Taglist:

@ladysparkles78 @ariasong11 @winchester-whiskey @whormotional @spacecowgirl126

@zepskies @calibootsgirl @hot-and-confused @spookyfunhottub @berryblues46

@midnight--raine @emmy21842 @whichwitchwanda @foxyjwls007 @lyarr24

@whump-loverz @cassieriddle713

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!).

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

I Will Find You in the Dark Masterlist

Dean and Julie's story continues through turbulent times in the Winchester's life. Can Dean and Julie survive through it all? Can their love survive?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

[queen-of-deans-booty]

His Anchor

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: MoC!Dean, fluff at the end

Request by @jessicalynnann: how about mark of Cain dean and he is an ass to everyone but the reader. He is all fluffy and lovely dovey with the reader and one night he has had enough of her cuteness and just kisses her… maybe she tells him about a book she is reading… 

Summary: Dean is affected by the Mark in ways you and Sam don't realize, and he's trying not to let it affect others around him. However, there is only one person who can lift his spirits even when he's shrouded in darkness.

Square Filled: the first blade (2019) for @heavenandhellbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

x

Dean sits alone at the library table with just a dim lamp to light the room and a glass of alcohol next to him. He hasn’t been doing good as of late because of the fucking Mark on his arm. It’s a constant reminder of how much he’s got to lose, and it’s taken over his life. He wants the damn thing removed but he’d be putting people in danger if he does. This Mark has already claimed so much of his life that he’s trying to hold onto whatever he has left, refusing to give into it more.

He traces the edge of the Mark with his index finger and goosebumps crawl up his arm immediately. There’s something raw in the danger that befalls the Mark including the First Blade. He’s used it plenty of times to kill those who deserve it even though it itches for more. The First Blade will never be satisfied with how many kills Dean gives it because there is a purity in how many victims it can claim.

Including himself. In the end, he’ll fall victim to his own blade. Would he die? Would the Mark allow him the sweet relief of death?

“Hey, you alright? Why is it so dark in here?”

Dean is pulled from his thoughts and looks up at his brother who has entered the room.

“What do you want?” Dean asks and turns the brightness up on the lamp.

“I might have found a lead on Metatron. He’s the only one that’s gonna have information on the Mark.”

Dean is so sick and tired of hearing how his brother found a lead only for that lead to turn up dead. He’s been led on by hope far too many times only for it to bite him in the ass later.

“Sammy, how many times do I have to tell you? Stop looking for the cure. It’s pointless if it means a lot of people are gonna be hurt in the process.”

“I know but this time is different. Listen to this. Rowena is a really old witch. She comes from the same kind of magic as the Mark, so I figure if we can get to Metatron, then--”

Dean slams his glass onto the table, shattering it to pieces. His hand bleeds but he doesn’t care about that. Sam jumps at the sudden noise and stares at his brother with uncertainty in his eyes.

“Don’t make me smack you.”

Sam’s shoulders sag in defeat.

“Fine. Whatever.”

The younger brother leaves to investigate this on his own. If Dean isn’t gonna help him then he’ll do everything himself. Dean knows he will never give up because that’s not what they do. If it were Sam who took this Mark on, then Dean would be the same way. Dean shakes his head and grabs another glass from the small cart by the table and pours himself another drink. He has bigger things to worry about than the Mark like Rowena, Cain, the Book of the Damned, and just about every fucking thing in his life.

You walk into the library with a book in your hand and Dean’s mood becomes ten times better. Everything in his life is fucked up but you. You’re the light in all this darkness and he’s so scared you’ll end up hurt because of him. You look up and smile when you see Dean but the smile is lost when you see the pieces of glass on the table.

“Hey, where’s Sam?” you ask.

“Doing nerdy things,” Dean shrugs.

“Okay, can I talk to you about this book I just finished? Like I need to tell someone.”

“Sure,” he chuckles and welcomes the distraction.

“Okay,” you rush to the table and sit next to him, “so the main character, Alana, works at this big company that everyone knows about and she feels trapped doing the same shit every single day. She wants to be doing more with her life but doesn’t know where to start or what she should be doing. That is, until the CEO of the company, Marcel started doing some shady shit. She tries to find out what he’s been up to, and it turns out that he’s making this serum that will make him rule the universe or some shit like that. She’s like hell no so she tries to foil his plans but ends up as his test subject! She tries to escape him but he ended up giving her the serum since he needed a human subject. This whole big fight happens between them but I was not expecting that turn of events!”

Dean isn’t paying attention to a goddamn word you’re saying. You’re so passionate and happy about this book you’re reading that he’s focused on your smile, the way your eyes light up, and how you can’t sit still. You give him joy like no other. How did he ever cope before he met you?

“Are you even listening to me? Why are you staring at me like that?” you ask.

Dean can’t help but grab your chair and pull you closer to him. He slides his big hands into your hair and plants his lips on your impulsively. You haven’t felt his lips in over a year since he kissed you when he was ass-backward drunk. You thought he never brought it up because he was drunk, but he didn’t want the one good thing in his life to go away if he confessed how he felt about you.

He pulls away from you and watches as your mouth opens and closes like you don’t know what to do. Your cheeks heat up in nervousness because you were not expecting that at all.

“Oh, okay,” you stutter.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I’m glad I found you and not Sam.”

“So, how did Alana escape Marcel?”

Just like that, you’re back to passionately talking about your book. You’re the only thing anchoring him down and keeping him sane, and he needs a bit of that right now.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[lol-jackles]

It's been a while since we talked about SPN. So I wanted to ask you what you think of this essay on Sam (if you have the patience to listen to it, it's about 20 minutes). For some things the author's opinions are legitimate but for others, in my opinion, they are not. Especially for the finale, on which I do not share this opinion at all. www*youtube*com/watch?v=xLCB4RhiP5A&t=4s

I'm not even going to add the link, which tells you what I think of Rachel's opinion. I only agree that season 4 was a bit of a misfire.

Three minutes into the video and I was already bored with her complaints over the "lack" Sam's autonomy and pov.  Her Dean blaming got old really fast. Yeah, Dean is unfair towards Sam but 1) that's what brothers do, and most importantly 2) that's what happens to main characters, they constantly get shitted on. One of the biggest reliefs in real life is realizing you're not the main character. In The X Files, Mulder is called a loser even by the freaks and rarely given grace. Nobody apparently trusts Bode in Fire Country despite saving lives. Xena was always getting reminded of her less stellar past in Warrior Princess.

Sam girls get mad when stuff from Sam’s past gets brought up because they think he’s being unfairly punished for it.  At least Sam’s past is valid enough to be mentioned.  Cas’s storyline gets the LOL treatment and Dean’s arcs are always getting dropped; his hell trauma, tenure as the torturer’s apprentice, Michael’s vessel, demon, MOC, all are dropped and largely forgotten.

Probably the only time the AAs and I are in agreement is Dean's pov means squat because Dean isn't being talked about by other characters. Dean and his pov mainly revolve around Sam. To quote a casual observer I found on tumblr: Sam gets the larger story arcs in the show and Dean gets more of the “silly and fun” filler episodes.

As for Sam's autonomy, my guess is she and I have differing views on the meaning of the word. IMO, autonomous characters often have these traits:

A tendency to resist authority (Sam rebelling against John, Dean, Lucifer, and Chuck)

High level of self-assuredness (Sam knows himself outside the hunting lifestyle)

A need for personal space and privacy (Sam is a private person and admits not sharing his deep personal issues with Dean)

A preference for independence in social situations (Sam is not a follower)

An innate desire for control and decision making power (Sam's life long issue, demon blood infection made it worse)

A desire to set and achieve individual goals and aspirations. (Sam's consistent endgame through the entire series)

A character with autonomy means they have ability to act independently and make decisions without being influenced by others. They have strong sense of self, able to think critically, are self-sufficient and able to take responsibility for their actions. Doesn't that last sentence sound like Sam Winchester to the tee?

Oh yeah I very much Disagree with her take on the series finale.  Sam didn't die a bitter old man, what the heck was Rachel watching??? Sam peacefully passed away in his house with his beloved son at his side. Sam's son was clearly a well adjusted young man with a happy childhood. Happy well adjusted offsprings don't come from bitter parents. Sam wasn't bitter, sad yes, but not bitter because he accomplished the goal he had since his own childhood: to have a normal life outside of hunting and raise his own family. Most SPN fans were happy or satisfied with the finale because the Winchester legacy lives on.

[yet-another-deanw-girl]

The Prophecy

Created with Microsoft Designer

She knew for 15 years that this day would come. She knew her destiny had already been written. That her death had been foretold.

She knew she would have to stop him. She knew she would have to kill him. And she thought she was prepared for all of it. But the day she met him she realized how wrong she was…

Set in Season 10

Pairing: MoC!Dean x Female!OC

Note: The events of this story are following season 10 of Supernatural and are taking place between October 2014 and July 2015. I tried to make sure that all the references to weapons, tech, etc. are accurate with the time period.

AN: This is my first time writing a fanfic but the story has been in my head for too long and it just needed to get out. I hope you like it.

AN: English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.

Chapter 1: The girl and the werewolves Chapter 2: Protocol EG-64 initiated Chapter 3: The stand-off Chapter 4: The Order Chapter 5: So many questions, so little answers Chapter 6: A Girl Stuck in a Bunker Chapter 7: The Fates Chapter 8: Standing on Edge Chapter 9: Fairytales Chapter 10: Good Morning, Princess Chapter 11: The Mark, The Blade and The Scribe of God Chapter 12: I'm Not a Fucking Princess Chapter 13: Split Chapter 14: The Ghost and The Network Chapter 15: Just Turn It Off And On Again Chapter 16: Sweat It Out Chapter 17: Spilling truths between the lies Chapter 18: 33 Chapter 19: You again! Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38

_________

[konigbabe-interact]

drinking game gone wrong

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; oral sex; fingering; top!dean; MOC dean; p-in-v sex; drunk sex; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; gendered female reader; gendered female anatomy

Summary: You and Dean give into each other after months of mutual pining with the help of the Mark.

Currently only active as @konigbabe.

The heat radiating between you was undeniable, and you felt yourself getting lost in the moment as you tangled your hands in his hair. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, the taste of your desire still lingering on his tongue as it explored your mouth. His hands moved to your waist, caressing your curves and igniting a fire that seemed to consume you both.

“No,” Dean bellowed, his voice reverberating off the walls. The room seemed to heat up from the intensity of his anger as he threw a book at the wall, the hard edges creating a sizable dent. "There has to be a way, Cas," he added, the desperation in his tone palpable.

Sam and you exchanged a tired look; this was one of the numerous times Dean erupted in anger within a day. The Mark of Cain was taking its toll on him; it was becoming more challenging to keep his temper in check. You all knew that you had to find a cur. Soon. Before Dean's condition deteriorated even further.

“I am sorry, Dean. I understand how frustrating this must be for you. I know about a grimoire that could possibly contain a spell that could help. I'll do my best to look for it and try to find it as soon as possible, “ with that, Cas disappeared; leaving Dean completely frustrated, Sam and you both at a loss for what the next step should be.

In the end, Sam suggested they call it a night, but the look on Dean's face could have killed him if looks could kill. After a few minutes of tense and uncomfortable silence, it was blatantly apparent that the brothers were in need of some breathing room and a little bit of space between them; especially on Dean’s side.

Sam gazed at you with a hopeful expression, as if hoping for some sort of agreement, yet you offered no response. He nodded solemnly, rose with a heavy breath, and bade his farewell, vanishing from the room. You were left alone with Dean, whose head was already buried in a magical tome, oblivious to the stifling quiet that had descended between you.

Rising from your seat, you ventured to the kitchen, grasping two glasses and a bottle of aged scotch. Returning to Dean, who sat across the table, you placed a full glass before him, filling it with the amber-colored liquor.

Dean looked up from the book, his gaze on the liquor before he shoot you a look of disinterest; then he continued reading it without giving it a second thought.

“M’not interested, we have more important things to do,” he dismissed your offering, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Come on, Dean," you implored, your voice gentle with understanding.

"Just this one night and I promise we'll get back to the research tomorrow. But can't you, just for one night, take a break and enjoy yourself? I'm asking you as a friend, please," you pleaded, your gaze sincere. You could tell he was struggling with his decision, and you gave him the chance to think it through.

Finally, he sighed and took the glass in his hand.

“Just one night," he replied, his voice heavy and weary. He downed the liquor inside and you knew, despite the somberness of the situation, that you had won the battle.

"Just one night. Nothing more," he said and took the glass in his hand, ready to swallow the liquor inside. You stopped him from drinking, looking him in the eye with a knowing smirk, "Just drinking is mundane. What about a game? Spice up the night?"

He paused, considering the suggestion, then set the glass back on the table.

“All right. I'm game. What did you have in mind?” his voice had a slight edge of amusement, a sign of his willingness to go along with the suggestion and make the most of the night.

"Two truths and a lie," you suggested, Dean's eyes crinkling with mirthful delight. He smiled knowingly, his eyes sparkling with mischievousness. "This should be interesting," he said, his baritone voice taking on a more serious tone.

You watched as his expression turned thoughtful, his brow furrowing with concentration as he gathered his thoughts. He leaned forward, the light of the crackling fire reflecting in his eyes as he began to speak.

You could almost feel the anticipation radiating from him as he waited for you to start. He seemed to be studying you as if he could see into your soul. Taking a deep breath, you started, your words filling the space between you with a sense of mystery. Dean remained silent, his face betraying no hints of what he was thinking. As you made your way through the game, the atmosphere in the room slowly shifted, becoming more inviting and intimate.

It was now Dean’s turn, and the expectation weighed heavily in the air. Dean cleared his throat, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“My first truth is that I’m allergic to cats,” he said, “my second is that I have a fear of heights,” the sparkle that shimmered in his gaze was echoed by the bright blue of the ocean. He looked deep into your eyes, the sparkle in his own intensifying, and a feeling of anticipation in the air. Leaning forward, he rested on his elbows as he whispered softly,

“But the third truth I’m not so sure I’m ready to tell you,” he said, his voice soft and inviting.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling the warmth of his presence.

“The third truth is that I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day we met,” his voice inviting, gaze never leaving yours, “I think it’s time I finally do.”

Your heart raced as Dean's piercing gaze met yours, and his voice, so seductive, only made the tightness in your chest grow.

“Dean, I don’t think that’s the best idea,” you breathed, but the atmosphere around you was charged with electricity. He was devouring you with his eyes and you felt the heat of his breath caress your skin; he inched closer to the table between you, his face dangerously close to yours.

You could feel the anticipation of his lips on yours. Finding yourself leaning in, longing for the kiss you both knew was coming; your brain turning into a cloud of haze. Knowing well enough once you overstep this line, there was no coming back. The liquor heating your chest; warming your heart, you felt the invisible threat pulling you towards the man opposite you.

And at that moment, all that was left was the possibility of what could be, of what you wanted more than anything.

“Dean,” you swallowed. His eyes met yours, dark and piercing, lips curving into a knowing smirk. You wanted him. You wanted to feel his body against yours, his lips on your skin, exploring every inch of you. You wanted to be taken away by his touch, lost in a world of pleasure and desire. You wanted him, and you knew he wanted you, too.

The air around you seemed to hum with electricity, and neither of you moved. The tension was palpable, and you could feel the heat radiating off of his body. Your heart raced and you felt dizzy with anticipation.

Finally, he stepped closer to you, a hand reaching out to brush your cheek. You shivered at the contact, and he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low and commanding.

You nodded, unable to form the words in your mouth.

“Say it,” Dean repeated himself.

All you could manage was a breathless, "Yes; yes, I want this."

He smiled, and you felt his lips press against yours. The kiss was electric, filled with raw desire.

Desire; spreading through your body like a raging storm. It consumed you; the intensity of it leaving you breathless. You felt it in your core, radiating outward to your fingertips. Every inch of you was alive, awash in passion and yearning. You wanted to be touched, to be loved, to be taken. You wanted to let go and give in to the sweet, sweet bliss of pleasure Dean was offering.

You felt yourself melting into him, lost in the moment. You knew you wouldn't be the same after this.

His hands trailed across your curves, a spark of heat igniting your soul. Your thoughts were a blur, nothing but him consuming your mind as seconds felt like an eternity. The hard, cold material of Dean's mattress pressed against your back, and you felt a primal connection, one that shook you to your core. His hands moved with purpose as they explored your body, the heat of his touch sending waves of pleasure through your veins. The moment felt like a dream, a dream that you never wanted to wake up from. His hands were like a whisper, a silent command to surrender to the pleasure he was giving you. You felt yourself yearning for more, the intensity of the moment making you desperate for his touch. You felt yourself becoming lost in the sensations, a blissful surrender that left you trembling and wanting more.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured against your skin before kissing your neck again. The sensation sent shivers through your body and you couldn't help but moan in delight. He slowly unclipped your bra, revealing your bare breasts to him. Dean wasted no time in taking one of your nipples in his mouth, igniting a flame within your core. Heat radiated from him as he pleasured you in the way he had always wanted to.

You grabbed a hold of his hair, pushing his face further into your body as you gasped for breath. His hands glided down your body, teasing and exploring until he finally found your sweet spot. You moaned louder, your body trembling in pleasure as his fingers worked their magic. You wanted him more than anything, and he wanted you too.

Dean’s touch was electric, sending sparks of desire through your veins as he ran his hands over your curves. Moans filled the room; he moved lower and lower, each touch more heated than the last, tongue dipping in your belly button before his lips met the lines of your pants. His breath was warm on your skin as he unhooked the button of your jeans; hands tugging at the fabric, pulling them off in one swift motion.

You gasped as he kissed your thighs, feeling the warmth of his lips move on your heated flesh. Dean’s fingers moved expertly, exploring every inch of your body with passionate purpose.

His name left your lips in a quiet but desperate whimper, feeling his fingers trace the middle of your soaked underwear, fingers circling your caching nub through your underwear.

“What do you me to do?” Dean's eyes smoldered as he looked up at you from between your quivering thighs, his arms securely tucked beneath you as your heels dug into his back; his words hang in the air, heavy with desire.

“I-, want your tongue,” you exhaled; your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt his hot breath on your wet core.

“To do what?” he pushed, voice deep and husky, eyes laced with mischief.

A shiver ran down your spine, goosebumps rising on your skin as your hands gripped the fumbled sheets.

“Taste me,” you whispered, a hand coming up to tangle in his hair as you drew his head closer to you.

“With passion,” he murmured against your center, tongue flicking out to tease you. The material of your underwear was dripping with your juices by the time Dean finally took it off. He moved with confidence, and you were lost in it, in him.

A cold breeze hit your soaked pussy before Dean’s tongue laid flat against the whole center, nose brushing against your clit as he devoured you like a man starved. Gasping for air like there was never enough oxygen, he licked and kissed you in slow, gentle circles, his tongue exploring your edges; curiosity taking over him.

Moaning softly into the room with your hand groping his hair for dear life, Dean sucked at your sensitive bud, the scrape of his finger on your inner walls sending a heatwave through you.

He kept up this slow, gentle rhythm for some time, making sure to pay attention to every single reaction of yours; adjusting his technique according to your reactions.

The room was filled with the smell of your arousal as he slipped a finger inside, gently caressing your velvet walls. His breath quickened as he felt your tightness around his finger, his cock pulsing in anticipation of what was to come. He teased and tantalized you, pushing you to the brink of ecstasy; each stroke sending you higher until you were begging for more. Dean obliged, surging inside of you in a powerful wave of pleasure.

“Cum for me, baby,” his words demanded, sending you over the edge.

When you finally peaked, he didn't stop; Dean kept working you through your orgasm, lapping at your juices as you laid in blissful exhaustion.

Dean's lips moved hungrily along your body, sending waves of pleasure through you. His tongue flicked and teased your sensitive flesh, lingering in the areas that made you moan with delight. The heat radiating between you was undeniable, and you felt yourself getting lost in the moment as you tangled your hands in his hair. His lips met yours in a passionate kiss, the taste of your desire still lingering on his tongue as it explored your mouth. His hands moved to your waist, caressing your curves and igniting a fire that seemed to consume you both. You felt his arousal pushing against you as you surrendered to the pleasure of his touch.

You pushed him onto his back, straddling his lap as you pounced on him. He moaned as you pressed your lips to his, tasting the sweet mixture of your desire again. His hands moved up and down your back, sending sparks of heat through you as he deepened the kiss; his hard arousal pressed against you. You finally pulled away, smiling as you looked into his eyes, both of you lost in the moment.

Dean’s hands moved to your hips, gripping them firmly as he moved you against him, the sensations of pleasure overwhelming you. He leaned in again, his lips trailing a path of fire down your neck as he whispered in your ear, “ride me.”

You shivered in response, knowing that this night was going to be filled with pleasure that you’d never felt before; you knew that no matter what happened tonight, it was going to be something you would never forget.

“Want to taste you too,” you murmured as his lips found yours again; you melted into his kiss as he explored your mouth with his tongue.

“Another time,” he said as his lips left yours, “but not tonight.”

Dean looked into your eyes, his gaze penetrating and intense; a rush of desire coursing through your veins. His hands gripping yours, he pulled them up to the neck of his shirt, inviting you to take it off and reveal the sculpted flesh of his torso, the anti-possession tattoo decorating his chest. As the fabric pooled onto the floor, you ran your hands along the contours of his body, eagerly seeking the skin to skin contact. His lips locked with yours, the urgency of his kiss sending heat through your body.

He pulled you aside, eagerly discarding the remaining items of clothing left on his body; his gaze searing into yours as his cock sprang free from its restraints, the head looking achingly engorged as the light reflected off the drop of precum. You could feel your desire for him growing with every passing moment; craving to feel him inside of you.

Something feral, almost instinctive, took over you; carnal impulses compelling you to take a seat atop him, locking his cock between your bodies; your fingers dancing over his length, savoring the slickness of his precum as his lips left a trail of hungry kisses down your neck; it felt animalistic, the two of you, consumed by each other's lust.

His fingers left a scorching, passionate imprint on your skin, like a brand that would never fade away. He made you feel alive and wanted, claiming your body and soul with his passionate touch. You could feel yourself melting under his gaze as he claimed every last inch of you, leaving you longing for more.

“Condom?” he asked, voice thick with desire. You shook your head, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks.

“Pill,” you whispered.

Dean chuckled, his eyes smoldering with desire as he let his fingers trace the curves of your hips.

“Good,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

Bracing your thighs on each side of his hips, you lifted yourself up, hand aligning his cock with your entrance. Your skin prickled with anticipation as you straddled him, the heat between your legs electrifying.

The spongy head of him opening your entrance, welcoming him in as a grunt left his kiss-bruised lips, pressed against your throat. Pausing; savoring the sensation of him for a moment, you stilled before lowering down onto him, feeling every inch of his thickness fill you up.

“Fuck,” he cursed, “your pussy was made for me.”

With your hand on his chest, you could feel Dean's heart pounding against your palm as you stayed seated on his cock, the thick length of him pressing against your womb; and he could feel it too, your heat sucking him in.

Another curse left his lips, “you need to start moving, baby.”

Your body was completely under his demand; moving in a steady rhythm, hips swaying in time with his. You could feel the heat radiating between your bodies, a crescendo of pleasure building as your movements increased in intensity.

Your hips moved in slow circles. Dean’s hands moved from your hips to your lower back, pulling you closer to him. Moans and grunts mixed together, the room’s temperature rising, the explicit sounds of your wetness shamelessly filling the quiet night.

Hands on his thighs, leaning back, Dean’s gaze shifted to the place you were connected; he watched you take him in, your slick walls spread wide to accommodate his size, his cock completely soaked by your wetness as the mix of your arousal dripped on his lap.

Leaning down, you kissed the man deeply, tongues entwining in a passionate embrace as his hands gripped your breasts, fondling and playing with the soft flesh. Arching your back, you pushed to create more friction between your bodies before Dean’s hand moved to your achingly longing nub of nerves, spreading your juices over it while he toyed with it.

His breaths grew heavier, your moans louder as you both moved together in an unstoppable, passionate dance. Your body rocked and writhed as he drove you to the brink of ecstasy, and when he finally let you reach the peak of pleasure, you opened your mouth in a silent scream of pure delight. Dean's touch had been like a drug, and now you were completely addicted.

His hips continued to thrust upwards, riding you through your high as his stare stayed locked on your body; he admired you, devouring every detail of your body with his eyes. The stretch marks on your thighs, the noticeable stab wound on your stomach from the witch hunt you went on a few months ago that he wanted to kiss away, or the small bird tattoo under your right breast that made him want to trace with his tongue. He wanted to remember every part of you, to be able to recall each detail and feel the same desire he did now, if not more.

Dean slowly raised himself up and pulled you into his arms, his lips on yours before you could even take a breath. His tongue caressed your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you eagerly obliged, granting him access to explore your mouth to its fullest. His fingers sought out the curves of your body, exploring and inviting a passionate response from you.

You felt Dean's cock swell inside you as his breath became ragged; knowing he was near, you ground your hips into him, keeping him deep within your walls, reveling in the feeling of his head kissing your insides. The intensity of the sensations was almost too much to bear, but you welcomed it, wanting to feel every inch of him.

The feel of his hot, pulsing cock inside of you made your inner walls quiver with pleasure, a low moan of delight escaping your lips as Dean's thrusts became more erratic and urgent. His head burrowed into your chest, warm breath fanning between your breasts as his hands clutched your hips, pushing himself even deeper into you. His body trembled as his climax neared, his moans intensifying as the waves of pleasure took over. Finally, with a loud grunt, Dean released his hot seed deep inside of you, his trembling body almost collapsing into yours.

Both of you stayed still for a moment as you could feel the cum slowly dripping out, staining Dean’s thighs. Your breathing filled the silence, and then Dean reached out and ran his fingers along the length of your arm, sending shivers of pleasure through your body; his touch gentle.

He pulled you closer, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body as his lips brushed yours softly; it was like a silent understanding - you both knew that everything changed at this moment.