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theostrophywife · 1 year

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kiss with a fist | chapter one.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: kiss with a fist - florence and the machine.

author's note: i'm so excited to share this series with everyone. this was literally meant to be a one shot fic but i have no self control therefore it spiraled into a whole series. without further ado, please enjoy the first chapter and let me know what you think 🤎

Wit beyond measure is a man’s greatest treasure.

Intelligence, knowledge, wisdom. These were the traits that Ravenclaws valued most, but if the founder of your house could see you now, Rowena Ravenclaw would probably roll over in her grave.

Because there was nothing smart about falling in love with Theodore Nott.

In fact, it might be the most idiotic thing you’ve ever done in your entire life.

So why did it feel so bloody exhilarating?

To understand your descent into madness, it was prudent to trace the events back to point zero.

It was a rainy September afternoon, unusually dreary even for the Scottish Highlands. The first week of your return to Hogwarts had been chaotic to say the least. Between performing your prefect duties by showing the first years around the castle and dealing with the clueless third year that accidentally set off Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs in the Great Hall, you were absolutely knackered by the time Friday rolled around.

Unfortunately, you had no time to rest. Even though the term just started, you were already spending much of your nights studying until your eyes felt like they were going to fall out of your skull. Tonight, you were in the potions laboratory tackling a particularly stubborn advanced draught. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t figure it out.

You dropped a sprig of wormwood into the cauldron and stirred counterclockwise then clockwise, just like the recipe instructed. The concoction bubbled to the surface. Holding your breath, you peered into the mixture with hope that this try would finally turn out successful. The potion turned a vibrant magenta color before exploding all over the front of your uniform.

Sadly, this was the closest you’d come to brewing the Angel’s Trumpet Draught. You sighed, wiping down your tie with a washcloth. It did nothing except make the mess worse. What you needed was a good old fashioned soak.

Luckily, you had access to the prefect’s bathroom on the fifth floor. During this time of night, it would be gloriously empty. Giving you the perfect opportunity to wallow in bubbles and self pity.

The trek from the dungeons to the fifth floor was fortunately uneventful. The hallways were dark and quiet, allowing you to slink off to the bathroom in peace. With a whisper of pine fresh, the pearly gates opened.

You turned on the faucets, setting the temperature just below boiling and dispensing herbs and fragrances into the tub. When you were finally satisfied, you quickly discarded your soiled clothes and eagerly stepped into the warm bath. The scent of rosewater and pink himalayan salt instantly relaxed you.

You sighed deeply, leaning against the marble tile and closing your eyes. This was definitely not the way you thought seventh year would go. Your last year at Hogwarts was supposed to be the highlight of your academic career. While your housemates fretted and fussed over quidditch games and blood moon balls, you refused to take your eyes off the prize.

Ever the diligent student, you had no interest in extracurriculars unless it brought you closer to your dream of becoming an accomplished potions master, which would hopefully catch the eye of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. Joining the prestigious group was a dream that you had been working towards since first year. Blood, sweat, and tears had gone towards achieving this goal, especially during your most recent break.

You spent the entire holiday interning at the Brewery, attending lectures at the Magical Division of the University of Oxford, and you had not only completed the assigned reading for your Advanced Potions class, but Professor Slughorn’s personal recommendations as well. All of that hard work should have placed you ahead of the curve, but your class rank remained the same as always.

Second.

Not first.

Never first.

No, that spot belonged to that rich infuriating smartass pureblooded motherfu—

“Theodore Nott,” you said, lacing your voice with as much venom as you could muster.

Between the pale moonstone pillars stood the source of your academic anguish. Theodore was dripping sweat, his green and silver quidditch jersey covered in mud and grime. The prefect badge pinned to his robe was barely visible, more brown than silver. His curly brown hair fell erratically across his cheekbones as he brushed a stray strand away to squint in the faint light.

The side of his mouth quirked up into a smirk when he recognized you. “You know, most people just call me Theo.” His gaze lingered on your form, which was barely covered by pink suds. “Especially those who know me rather intimately.”

You flushed in response. Amusement danced in his watercolor eyes, which seemed brighter now thanks to his sun kissed complexion. Knowing Nott, he probably spent his summer laying out in the Italian sun while attractive witches fed him grapes by hand. You didn’t get a tan like that from holing up in the English countryside with nothing but a boiling cauldron and a dusty textbook for company. He didn’t even have the audacity to pretend like he was worried about his class ranking. The bastard.

“Every rule has its exception, Theodore,” you gritted out. “Now get the fuck out.”

He cocked his head, sending a mass of wavy brown locks to spill to one side. “You’re right. Most people don’t usually say my name like it’s an unforgivable, but I guess you’re special in that way, diavolina mia.”

Little devil, Nott's idea of a fond nickname, irritated you to no end. Your annoyance only made him use it more. Gods, what a wanker.

“Are you deaf or just thick? This bathroom is occupied,” you huffed, sinking lower into the bubbles. “Leave before I scream bloody murder.”

Theo smirked. “Oh, I guarantee you’ll be screaming.” He kicked his shoes off, leaving them in a messy pile beside your own neatly arranged boots. “Though the only thing I’ll be murdering is that pu—”

The glare you sent his way would have sent lesser men running for the Forbidden Forest. “I’m serious, Nott. I’ve had a terrible fucking day and I am not giving up the bath.”

“Neither am I,” he countered. “Practice was brutal. I ate shit on the pitch and all I want to do is to reap my prefect benefits via bubble bath. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to learn how to share, sweetheart.”

You watched in stunned silence as he peeled off his jersey. The moonlight streamed through the glass stained windows, painting him in a surreal sort of light. There was no ounce of shame to be found in Theodore Nott as he stripped off his trousers and stood stark naked in the middle of the bathroom.

Look away, you thought. Look the fuck away now.

But like a moth to a flame, you found yourself horribly drawn to the cocky, arrogant, son of a bludger. His tall frame cut an imposing figure in the dark as slivers of moonlight danced across his ridiculously toned chest and well-defined abs. He was neither brawny nor scrawny, but somewhere in the middle, which unfortunately happened to be your sweet spot.

To make matters worse, the smug prick seemed perfectly aware of your ogling. You could’ve sworn Theo flexed as he stalked towards you. Unlike most boys his age, he wasn’t awkward or bumbling. Theo was confident in his body. Too confident.

You sighed. “Can you at least attempt to be decent?”

“Why? It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.”

As if you needed a reminder of this ongoing tryst between you. Theo waded to your side, leaning his head back as the warm water sloshed around him. His eyes fluttered close, those thick lashes of his kissing the top of his cheekbones. Water trickled down his collarbone and you had to fight the urge to lean over and lick it off.

“I told you, last time was—“

“The last time,” Theo finished. “I’m perfectly aware, principessa. You say it every time.”

“I mean it this time.”

He cocked his head, flashing those hypnotizing eyes at you. “Oh?” Theo drawled slowly, reaching out to brush a wayward lock of hair that had escaped from your braid. “Did my poor little Ravenclaw finally find the courage to say no to the big bad Slytherin?”

Your breath hitched as he pressed his lips against your throat. “Fuck,” you whispered.

“Go on then, love,” Theo hummed against your skin. He kissed the sensitive spot beneath your earlobe, making you involuntarily arch into him. Slender fingers wrapped around the base of your throat, holding you in place. “Tell me what you want, diavolina.”

You sighed in defeat. “Stop being an asshole and kiss me, Nott.”

Theo grabbed the back of your head and crashed his lips against yours like a man starved. After months of going without, you came to the horrid realization that you craved this as much as he did. You crawled into his lap, straddling him as he gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

I am a stupid girl, you thought. A stupid, horny girl who had no business snogging Theodore Nott.

One, you were bitter rivals. Two, Theo awakened a dangerous side of you that defied all logic. This whole fucked up situation started because of your lapse of judgment last winter. As always, Theo had said or done something to annoy you during class and in return you hexed his drink to taste like dragon dung. He retched for a week straight. Somehow Snape found out that you were to blame and placed both of you in detention.

One thing led to another in the potions classroom and you ended up with your skirt around your waist and Theo’s head between your legs. You quickly resolved that the only way to shut him up was to keep him occupied and occupied he was. Ever since then, the two of you had been at it like rabbits.

You thought that you would leave all of it behind in sixth year, but barely a week into this term and you were already repeating the pattern.

“I’ve been thinking about this all summer,” Theo groaned into your mouth.

“That’s cute, Nott,” you responded sarcastically. “Miss me over the holidays, did you?”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Don’t act like you haven’t been thinking about this too. You’ve been testier than a Hungarian Horntail since the minute you got off the platform. I could tell that you haven’t been properly fucked since our little impromptu goodbye in the broom closet last spring.”

“You’re absolutely repulsing.”

He smirked. “Then why are you pulling me closer?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up and fuck me before I change my mind.”

“You could say please.”

“I could,” you said with a shrug before gripping his cock and lining him up at your entrance. Theo groaned as you sank down into him with a satisfied little smirk. “But I won’t.”

The moan that came out of his mouth barely sounded human. “Fuck,” he said, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “How do you always feel so fucking good?”

You knew what he meant. As much as you hated to admit it, Theo was right. You hadn’t gotten properly laid since your last tryst. There had been other boys this summer, but none of them made you feel like this. Because sex with Theo wasn’t just sex. It was warfare. You fucked like you both had something to prove.

Even now, as you grinded your hips against him, Theo thrusted upwards with equal force like you were competing for the bloody house cup. You ran your fingers through his hair, frowning a little.

“What?” Theo asked.

“Did you cut your hair?”

He grinned as he trailed kisses along your jaw. “You don’t like it?”

“Less to hold onto.”

“Don’t worry dolcezza,” Theo chuckled darkly. He squeezed your thighs and pressed you against him roughly. “I’ll make sure to hold on tight for the both of us.”

You hummed in agreement before sinking down again, setting a steady rhythm as you rode him with reckless abandon. For someone who valued logic, every ounce of common sense you possessed went out the window when it came to this infuriating boy.

Maybe you were a masochist. But as Theo thrust sharply into you, the stupid little voice in your head said that you didn’t really mind the pain.

You moaned as Theo tilted your chin, capturing your lips with his. It was a clash of tongue and teeth as you fought for dominance, putting your bodies to the test. He knew exactly what buttons to press, which sensitive spots to hit, how to challenge you physically and mentally.

“Gods, right there.” You whimpered, digging your fingernails into his back. Theo’s hypnotizing eyes snapped to yours, piercing through every layer until you felt even more bare than you already were. “Don’t fucking stop, please.”

He smirked. “So you do have bedside manner after all.”

“Not for you,” you said as you grinded down hard, making Theo bite into your shoulder.

“Salazar fucking save me,” he grunted.

“Your founder can’t save you now, Nott.”

“Cruel, ruthless woman.” Theo looked up at you like he was praying to the stars. His movements stilled as your gazes collided. “Tell me you missed this. Tell me that no one else makes you feel like this.”

You whined at the loss of friction. “You’ve picked a shit time to get all sentimental on me, Nott.”

“It’s not sentiment, it’s the truth,” Theo declared, thrusting lazily. “And I want to hear you say it.”

“Why?”

“Call it curiosity,” he said casually. “I want to know if I measure up to the boys back in Oxford.”

Not even close, you thought. But you were not about to admit that out loud.

“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

Theo chuckled before sinking his teeth into your neck. “But I’m not a cat, little bird. I’m a snake and I’m coiled around you ready to strike if you say the word.”

You shivered slightly. This constant back and forth, all the bickering and banter, was just you and Theo’s sick and twisted version of foreplay. Gods, you fucking missed it.

“Fine,” you grumbled. “Theodore Nott, you are an infuriating little shit but you fuck like an absolute demon. I missed sneaking around with you in the broom closet, the charms classroom, the astronomy tower, and wherever else we managed to defile in this bloody castle. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

The shiteating grin on his face almost made you want to take it all back, but then he flipped you over, laying you down on the cold marble tile and staring at you with so much lust in his eyes that you felt the depths of his desire in your core. He crawled over you, water trickling down his tanned skin.

“Close enough,” he remarked before hiking your leg over his shoulder and burying himself so deep that you clawed the edge of the tub to keep yourself from slipping.

The rest of it was a blur of skin on skin as Theo unleashed himself on you. His mouth, his fingers, his cock were all just tools of seduction that he wielded with lethal precision.

The pleasure washed over you in waves, crashing again and again as he made you cum not once, not twice, but a total of three times. By the time he reached his peak, you were so exhausted that the two of you collapsed in the dark.

You laid side by side, staring up at the domed glass ceiling in stunned silence. After a moment, Theo turned over to face you.

“So?”

“So what?”

“Did I manage to knock that stick out of your arse?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing off the tile. “And that’s my cue to leave.”

“I’m kidding. I’m good, but I’m not that good,” Theo teased, following closely behind as you put your clothes back on. He eyed the bright magenta stain on the front of your uniform. “What happened there? Did you murder some poor unsuspecting pygmy puff?”

“No, but I did a number on the potions lab,” you lamented with a sigh. “That stupid Angel’s Trumpet Draught is bloody impossible to brew.”

“That old thing?” Theo asked, pulling out a fresh set of clothes from his quidditch bag. “I finished it ages ago.”

You gaped, nearly tumbling over your own skirt. “How? I followed the recipe word for word and this disastrous stain was all I managed to achieve.”

“Sometimes you have to go off the book,” he replied. “Experiment a little.”

“No thanks, I’d rather keep all my limbs intact.”

“I think you’re doing a rather splendid job of endangering yourself all on your own,” Theo said sarcastically. He cocked his head as you slipped on your boots. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll show you how to brew the draught in exchange for a favor.”

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “What kind of favor?”

“That’s for me to decide and for you to accept.”

“I’d rather not give an egomaniac a nuclear advantage.”

Theo rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not, diavolina?”

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “But only because I’m desperate.”

“Words every bloke is dying to hear.”

Without a word, he tossed a mass of balled up fabric in your direction. “What’s this?”

“A jumper, an article of clothing generally worn to retain warmth in colder climates,” Theo deadpanned.

“I know what a jumper is, you tosser. Why are you giving it to me?”

“Because, you’ll get a cold walking around like that,” Theo explained with a longsuffering sigh as though you were a clueless first year. The corners of his mouth quirked up. “Plus, I can see your nipples through your blouse and as much as I enjoy the view, I doubt that flashing Filch is at the top of your bucket list.”

“You truly are appalling,” you replied, shrugging the slightly faded jumper on. The thing was so worn that you couldn’t even make out the inscription on the front. The fabric swallowed you whole, skimming the top of your thighs. It also smelled like sea salt and smoke and boy. One boy in particular.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” He grinned, showing off those stupid little dimples of his. “Meet me in the potions lab tomorrow. Eight o’clock sharp, just like old times. And bring a muffin.”

“For the draught?’

“No, for me.” Theo said, holding the door open. “I’ll need motivation if I’m spending my Saturday morning with you.”

You slipped into the hallway and flipped him the bird. His laughter followed you in the dark like an annoying shadow.

“See you tomorrow, my little pygmy puff!”

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#your honor i love him and his filthy mouth #theodore nott #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x y/n #theo nott smut #theo nott x you #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x you #theo nott fluff #theo nott fic #theodore nott fic #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n

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luna-writes-stuff · 2 years

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The types my favourite Supernatural characters would fall for:

Includes Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Castiel, Gabriel, Lucifer, Jack Kline, Crowley, and Rowena Macleod

————————————————————————

Sam Winchester:

Surprisingly, I don’t think Sam would go for a nerd, or a bamf. No, I think he loves the gentle people most. Those who - regardless of whether or not they know about monsters - see the good in everything. Those who share a positive mindset and manage to smile through every situation. Sam has been through hell and back, and he needs that place of solitude more than he cares to admit. Someone he can run to who he knows will make him feel better. Comforting arms, gentle words, reassuring kisses: he craves those things more than anything. And he will damn well do anything he can to keep you safe from all those things he fights against. God forbid you are the one to be faced with those evils. His face always seems to light up upon seeing you. He has this habit of walking to you and wrapping his arms around you, lifting you off the ground slightly. But when he is exhausted, or something goes wrong, he will saunter, place an arm around your waist and pull you in for a side hug, his face buried in your hair, simply grateful to be back home. With you. He needs those things and we all know it.

——

Dean Winchester:

Now, Dean is the exact person to fall head over heels for nerds. People who can kick ass? Sure. But someone who knows a lot of things about a lot of different subjects? Very attractive. We all know Dean is somewhat of a nerd himself - we’ve seen it on multiple occasions - but he buries it deep down. But once you start rambling about a book series you love, or a game you’re really into, 90% chance he’ll give it a go behind your back. When you find out, he always plays the “so I can talk along” card, but let’s be honest: he’s genuinely curious. It sounds so stupid and nerdy, he wants to know what it is all about. Opposite of him, you love books. Unfortunately, he used to take advantage of this. He’d let you do all the reading while he sits in the chair beside you. Doing nothing. But he’s learned to love research with you. Somehow, it is very calming to him. He tends to let go of his emotions easier when it’s the two of you nose deep in books. And that’s something so delicate to you, because you know how Dean can be during these times. It is a sign he trusts you a lot.

——

Charlie Bradbury:

Golden retriever girlfriend golden retriever girlfriend golden retriever girlfriend golden retr-. She has a lot of nerdy hobbies, if you will. But if you are willing to participate in them, she’ll do a double take. In her eyes, you had always been attractive, but she is awkward, so she pushed those feelings down. But now you are actually interested in playing a game of DnD with her? Maybe she is over analysing things, and you are just being polite. But one event turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into four. And when she announced your fifth shared event with Dean, he’s had enough. He is the one to actually encourage Charlie to ask you out. In his words “grow a pair and get it over with”. Very inspiring. So, that day, she starts stumbling over her words. Anxiety overload. And that’s when you interrupt her and ask her out for dinner. A dinner as in a dinner date. And after that, everything just happens on its own. You don’t care what Charlie comes up with, as long as she doesn’t have to do it alone. And for her to have someone to share her interests with, is all she could really ask for. It makes her so happy, it becomes difficult to contain. All in a good manner, of course.

——

Castiel:

You guys know Folklore/Evermore (you should)? Cas would definitely be attracted to someone with those vibes. Someone calm and gentle, very laid back, bookwise, and imaginative. Perhaps an author, or a musical s/o. Someone who outs expressions and emotions through art. The look of focus and dedication on your face is simply so entrancing. Oftentimes, he’ll simply sit beside you and stare at you while you work. At first, it was very distracting and made you grow all flustered, but you got used to the feeling. Now, instead of intruding, it is soothing. He’d met you through Sam and Dean, who you knew in your youth. They kept in touch. And then one day he shows up in the middle of your bedroom, claiming he would bring you somewhere safe. And just like that, you had found yourself in the bunker. The boys had been hunting a pack of werewolves with a grudge against the Winchesters. And they had found out about you. As the pair was out, you and Cas got to know each other fairly well, and things just took off from there. He claims your works are some of the best his father ever created, and that he can spend hours looking at them, or listening to them. And he will. He actually keeps an entire journal with ideas he finds throughout his life and offers it to you, hoping to help you somehow. It’s endearing.

——

Gabriel:

Gabriel has seen some stuff, okay. He has heard and seen stories happen throughout many lifetimes. And he’s always been a sucker for a good story. If you are an author or bookworm, he’d grow enthusiastic at the thought. Sure, he loves looks, but he has a soft spot in his heart to those who love stories as much as he does. That entire Casanova attitude drops when he’s around you. He’s gentle, careful, almost as if you are the most precious cargo in the world. You have to share your works with him, would you have them. He wants to know everything he can, and everything you are willing to share with him. Read any good books? Tell him all about it. In detail. Rant about it, he doesn’t care. Late nights are spent on either the couch or on the bed. His head is in your lap as you drown yourself in a good book, reading aloud to him as he hums occasionally, letting you know he is still reading. And in exchange, he’ll tell you the things he has seen (though, only the good things). His entire personality seems to change around you, and is something he is so grateful for.

——

Lucifer:

Lucifer isn’t usually the type to fall in love quickly. But it’s all about playful banter with him. You dare argue back to him? You’re lucky you’re cute. Your initial meeting was after the whole Amara debacle, and - suffice to say - you were pissed when you saw him. You full-out shouted in his face, pointing accusing fingers and yelling words you probably shouldn’t. And he just smiled. He’d probably say something along the lines of “you’re adorable when you yell”. Now, that pisses you off even more. It takes some before you finally have a good conversation with him. And that’s when you realise, he might not even be that bad of a guy. If anything, you are the one who argues back and forth with him because you know he loves it. It’s that playful and loving mocking, you know? He lives for it and you know it. That satisfied smirk? Those joyful eyes? That’s all admiration, darling. He is taken with you from your first shouting match at him. “Asshole” “Minx” “Mister ‘I like to make others feel bad because it makes me feel good’” “Who am I? ‘I like to pile up all my emotions and stuff them down somewhere until I explode’” “You insufferable prick” “Your insufferable prick ;)”

——

Jack Kline:

Jack loves a person who lives more in the present. He worries a lot. Like, an unnecessary amount. There’s a lot of things swirling in his mind constantly. He needs a significant other who will take him on walks in nature. Someone to take him shopping just for the fun of it. Spontaneous dinner dates, taking the car to a random destination, changing the rooms just because they can. Someone who is spontaneous enough to drag him with them constantly. He needs the distractions, whether he likes to admit it or not. But he goes with you willingly. Regardless of what you say or offer; his answer always seems to be ‘yes’. He has fallen for you the moment he set eyes on you. He didn’t even know what that feeling was at first. It led to a very uncomfortable conversation with Dean. He said things he probably shouldn’t have said to Jack. He feels inexplicably happy around you, as if all worries and care simply disintegrate in your presence. It’s so relaxing to him, he doesn’t find himself wanting to part with you anytime soon. He is smitten with you and everyone can see it.

——

Crowley:

Crowley appreciates honesty more than he lets on. Does he lie? Yes. Does he do it on a daily basis? Yes. Would he lie to you? Only if he had to to protect you from something. But he needs a break from that constant nagging from demons, or the calling of the Winchesters. He needs a place to rant and sigh. Someone who he could explain all his irritations towards. But he wants that person to actually form a conversation with that person. Not just be heard, but also receive caring words. Honest words for when he needs it most. But, besides those moments, he needs someone with somewhat of an intimidating atmosphere around them. This already comes naturally when seeing Crowley, but you need that neutral face, set in stone, safe for when it’s just the two of you. Someone who can help him with difficult decisions or orders. But also someone compassionate enough to slow him down at times. Ironically, the Winchesters really like you. Crowley hates it.

——

Rowena Macleod:

Rowena is a lady and she loves to be reminded of it: take her out on dates, buy her flowers, engulf her in affection and offer her compliments on the daily. She returns the gestures twice as much. I mean, she puts spells on you just to make sure you are okay. That spell she uses for herself so she cannot die easily? She will 10/10 do that on you too. Once she finds someone to settle for, someone she truly loves, she’ll do anything for that person. Your opinion and well-being comes first, always. It’s almost as poetic as swans; she can and will dedicate her life to you. The Winchesters didn’t even know about you until Lucifer got out to look for his son. Rowena hid at your place after she was burned. You were her one safe place and she did not hesitate to run to you. She is the person to put her life on the line if it meant getting you to safety. Hell, even Crowley was in it for as long as he could. And he did a great job, because - when he was still alive - the Winchesters never found out about you. Rowena is the type to be all domestic with someone: A home, a cat, cooking in kitchens - though she does love fancy restaurants. At first you wouldn’t really believe it, but she would love to get settled down somewhere. As long as it means she gets to keep her craft there as well.

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deanbrainrotwritings · 1 year

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— LIVIN IN YOU

SUMMARY : dean actually loves reading. it should have been obvious what he’d enjoy reading the most. he doesn’t hate all books. he likes fun ones, ones with spice and romance.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : nsfw(18+), smut, smutty thoughts, fluff, sub!dean, dom!reader

WORD COUNT : 4.9k

A/N : title from a song by radio company. I was doing research on erotic novels for this and Bared to You by Silvia Day was the first book that popped up so I started reading it as research and planned to read only one chapter. It was all I was gonna include but I ended up liking it, and finished it lmaooo X

Dean couldn’t sleep. His bed was too empty, too cold. He moved around trying to find a comfortable position to finally fall asleep in, before he groaned and stared up at the ceiling thinking of what to do to put himself to sleep.

Y/N was out really late with Cas and Jack getting dinner since Cas and Jack went out on a hunt together and succeeded. Dean had just showered and eaten when they came back and Jack was starving so Y/N kissed Dean goodnight and went to take Jack and Cas for a late night dinner.

He chuckled shyly to himself as his brain suggested something. He looked around for his headphones and then searched in his box where he had his porn. Y/N didn’t look inside because she wasn’t interested in it—having him and all that was her reasoning. He hasn’t looked at his porn in years but he still liked collecting it anyway and Y/N didn’t mind that he did.

He finally found what he was looking for at the bottom of the box, beneath the Busty Asian Beauties magazines he had. He was paranoid and embarrassed about the thought of Y/N finding this out. It was a book he hadn’t read when he first got it. He and Cas had gone to the library years back and he was looking for something to teach Cas about sex while Y/N and Sam stayed back at the Bunker, cooking.

Dean led Cas to the erotic novels sections at the bookstore in town and he started to pick random books for him to read, from LGBTQ+ to heterosexual couples, monogamy to polyamory, BDSM, and more. Even Dean learned a few new things and they made him realise how right Rowena was when she said he was “sheltered”.

Dean sat, cross-legged, in the middle of his bed and kept his sheets on his lap to keep him warm. He plugged his headphones into his phone and let Led Zeppelin play quietly as he tried to focus on the words of the book. He was shy about reading it, so he was barely on chapter six of the book titled Bared to You. It was intense and straight to the point while all at once being a slow burn.

The main character, Eva, reminded him a little of Y/N with her wit and stubbornness, while the love interest, Gideon Cross, reminded him of himself if he were rich and more intense.

He wanted to skip straight to the sex scenes, but since it was surprisingly good, he decided against it. Once he’d started reading it—thinking he’d fall asleep quickly a few days ago, he found himself enthralled and captivated page after page as if he hadn’t had much more intense and creative sex with Y/N at least every night and morning.

He enjoyed the book more by imagining it was him and Y/N as Gideon and Eva. It could at least explain the blush that flared up his neck to his ears and cheeks, and the way his cock stiffened and swelled inside his black boxers.

He never touched himself, he just kept reading the fucked up relationship between Eva and Gideon, grateful that—as fucked up as he and Y/N were, they didn’t have something as complicated or toxic as them.

He wasn’t very good at talking about his feelings or his troubles, but he got there eventually as he processed events. Y/N didn’t push, she was just there—waiting for him, and never complained. She trusted him and she was kind, which helped to make her trust him. It was easier since she knew how to handle her own emotions despite how powerfully she felt them. So much about her made him feel safe enough to feel whatever he was feeling without being judged, invalidated, or forced to talk about it.

He didn’t always tell her he loved her in the traditional sense—through words, but he hoped—when he kissed her, when he made love to her, when he cooked for her, when he held her hand, when he smiled at her, and everything else he did—that she knew it was his way of saying it when it was too much to say out loud.

The book wasn’t very long and it was occasionally real to him. He sometimes related to Gideon and Eva, to their trauma, the feeling of being undeserving of love, the fear of vulnerability and intimacy, the inadequate feeling self-hate caused, disgust, and using sex as a coping mechanism. Now, when he had sex, it was because of surges of love and lust from how kind and tender Y/N was with him.

He didn’t feel used or objectified by her, he didn’t feel good about himself only during sex. He felt loved, worshipped, beautiful, and worthy with every press of her lips on his freckled skin, with every movement of her hands on his body, with the adoring words whispered into his mouth, against his skin. He felt it outside of the bedroom when she gazed at him lovingly when he talked about anything at all—and there was a special little glint when he gushed about cowboys. He felt it when he ate and caught her looking at him already with warm and amused eyes, when she cooked and fed him, praising him and complimenting him for looking cute as he ate. He felt it when she listened and kept her eyes on him like he was the only one in the room worth looking at, the way she hung on his every word, and how she was kind to him despite all the hurt she’s felt. She was everything. There wasn’t a single moment he’s spent with her where he hasn’t felt it.

So, even though the story did stress him out sometimes, he liked comparing Gideon and Eva to himself and Y/N. It made him feel proud of their relationship and good about himself because Gideon was really frustrating to him—and yes, Dean was aware how he keeps stuff to himself as well. However, he had never inflicted such anguish on Y/N by doing so, and he can’t keep it inside very long when Y/N makes him open up like a flower when it’s kissed by the sunrise. It’s not forced, he’s not pressured, it's just natural that he does so, bending to her tender will.

He already knew, years ago, when he started to love her. But the moment he actually let it take him over was when he was fresh out of hell, when they stood by his car in the cold, outside that barn where they hid Anna from Uriel and Cas. And he knew he was done for when she looked at him like he was everything, even as she confessed to knowing what he’d done in hell, when he realised that it didn’t alter or affect her feelings for him.

His walls were obliterated as if they were hit by a meteor when she kissed him, when she stole his breath for the first time, when she touched him so tenderly. When he felt her naked skin against his for the first time, and she quietly chanted his name over and over when he claimed her inside the backseat of his car. He was devastated by the gentle caress of her touch, by her soft panting breaths as he teased her, by the taste of her, by the way she tasted him. He felt beautiful—like a star after its death—when he was inside her that night for the first time, when he’d made love to her like he’d never loved anyone else.

He’d always known she was the only person he’d truly love after that Djinn made her his girlfriend in the wish-dream many years ago. When he told her he loved her in that dream-state and as he said them, he thought to himself that those words were only for her, he swore to himself that he’d never say them to anyone.

He’d gotten to chapter thirteen in a breeze and he was still invested in the story. There was so much drama going on between the characters and he was blushing—not just from how hot the sex was, but because he was embarrassed that he actually liked the book.

Just as he got to another sex scene he shuddered when he felt a little draught and he jumped when he looked up and saw Y/N standing with the door open. She looked like she’d been caught, she was frozen and blinked at him with confusion and surprise.

Immediately, he closed the book and turned it onto its back to hide the cover, then removed his headphones. She relaxed and smiled softly at him, “I thought you’d be asleep.” She stepped forward, her eyes filled with love as she reached out for his face. He stared up at her with a deep blush on his face, he was anxious to be discovered by her, but he closed his eyes when her fingertips gently brushed across his cheeks.

“Couldn’t sleep without you,” he murmured and opened his eyes, glancing up at her through his thick lashes. Her smile widened slightly and she cupped the side of his jaw, letting him rest his breathtaking face in her soft palm.

“I’m here now,” she whispered. He smiled softly, lifting his hand to hold her wrist and moved it to his mouth so he could kiss her pulse. “Let me get cleaned up, I’ll be right back.” He nodded gently, closing his eyes when she leaned down to kiss his forehead. He leaned into her with a content smile, then offered his lips to her when she pulled away. A single press of her warm mouth on his made his lips tingle, but he let her walk away, and licked his lips as he watched her leave his room. He let himself bask in the aftermath of her tenderness for a few seconds. He just stared at the door she exited from, his eyes drifting away little by little as he bit his lip, deep in thought. Thinking of her—naked, mostly.

Shortly after, he made quick work of hiding his book where it had been and returned his headphones to where they were before as well. He sighed and threw his phone on the wooden bedside table carelessly. He felt a bit of adrenaline at the thought of being discovered and arousal from having been fantasising sexual encounters with Y/N.

Still, he innocently returned to his spot on the bed. He moved beneath the warm sheets of his bed—sitting, and rubbed his eyes when he heard his bedroom door opening again. Y/N was standing there for a while, smiling at the way he rubbed his eyes before she entered. She quietly closed the door behind her and walked towards him, “what were you doing before I interrupted you?”

He stared at the black shirt she wore. It was his Led Zeppelin shirt with a grainy black and white image of a zeppelin and orange coloured words. He smiled at how big it fit her—like a minidress. His adoring, honeydew eyes fell to her bare legs and her blue ankle socks with white clouds, to the grey slippers on her feet.

She climbed onto the bed and he bit his lip, shyly looking at his hands, “listening to music and reading some book about wraiths. It was interesting, so, uh, I couldn’t fall asleep after all,” he lied and she chuckled. She still raised a brow as she inspected his flushed state, and moved the sheets to straddle him, unaware that he was hard. He exhaled shakily when she sat back on his thighs and his hands flexed on her legs as she rested her arms on his shoulders. “How’d it go with Jack and Cas?” He cleared his throat and held her hips, hoping to change the subject even though he only wanted to pull her onto his cock.

“Good,” she murmured, “Jack wanted a burger, milkshake, and some fries.” She smiled down at him, then kissed his lips softly oblivious to the way it only fueled his lust. His eyes fluttered shut and he hummed softly. “Cas was just sitting there all stiff, but he relaxed a little when Jack started to ask questions about how all of the food they served was made.” She cupped his face in both of her hands, feeling his ticklish stubble on her palms and the heat of his blush. “You’re warm, are you okay?”

She sounded concerned and she brushed her lips against his forehead to see if he was sick. He only nodded to reassure her he was fine and captured her lips with his in a needy kiss. He brought her hips forward, finally letting her know what was going on down south. She gasped against his mouth at the friction against her clit and he groaned softly at the sound of it, tightening his grip.

“A book on wraiths made you hard?” She teased breathlessly, her eyes fluttering shut when he kissed the corner of her mouth. Her heart rate picked up with excitement and her skin started to get warm with the rush of blood through her body.

“Shut up,” he murmured, kissing across her jaw, nibbling gently on her jawline. He trailed his opened mouth down her neck, his tongue sliding against her soft skin, tasting her and breathing in the fruity scent mixed with the aroma of flowers in her soft hair. “I was thinking of you,” he told her, his voice deep and husky, it made her pussy quiver.

“What about me?” She whispered, her fingers buried in his short hair. He slowly moved his hands up her back beneath the shirt she wore and brought his mouth up to her lips, but he didn’t kiss her.

“The first time I was inside your tight, hot, wet little cunt,” he growled, taking a moment to see her reaction.

“Dean,” she gasped, her stomach fluttering with excitement. Pleased with her response, he pressed his lips against hers, passionate and thrilled with a newfound confidence. He pulled the shirt up and off her body quickly. Her hands returned to his hair to tug at the short strands, drawing out little grunts from him that went straight to her clit. He didn’t give her much time to catch her breath, instantly returning to her lips once he removed the shirt, not that she needed air as she robbed him of his own oxygen with the depth and passion of her returned kiss.

He gently prodded at the seam of her lips with his tongue and she opened up to him swiftly, a sudden neediness controlling their actions. He could taste chocolate on her tongue when he licked into her mouth, savouring the flavour of the milkshake she must have ordered as his fingers toyed with the hem of her panties. He felt his skin electrify when she moaned at the gentle strokes of his hot tongue.

“I wanna make you come,” he whispered against her lips. He pulled her closer, her breasts squeezed against his broad chest which was covered in a black Henley. The cotton rubbed against her breasts deliciously and made her nipples tighten. He turned her over onto her back with his arms around her waist and he watched her chest rise and fall with each breath she took.

He looked down at her, seeing her shiver now that she wasn’t warmed by his body heat and took a moment to admire as she laid naked beneath him. His eyes drifted away from her pink cheeks to look at her full breasts, down her slightly concaving stomach, and finally her pink underwear. His hands flexed on her thighs, slowly rising to her hip bones where her underwear was resting.

“Take me,” she whispered, reaching over to lift his shirt up off him as well, “however you want,” she told him quietly. He groaned softly at her words, quickly taking his shirt off to do as she clearly wanted him to. She stared up at him with wide eyes that swallowed him whole like beautiful, hungry black holes.

“Whatever you say, angel,” he murmured, looking away from her blushing face fro a few seconds just to remove his boxers. Like him, she’d looked away from his face to watch him strip completely, her little tongue dipping out to moisten her dry lips at the sight of his stiff cock. He looked up at the right moment, caught her quite literally salivating at the sight of his dick leaking at the tip. “Wanna taste?”

That was usually her line, when he’d stare at her glistening folds debating on whether to fuck her already or eat her out. Unlike him, she’d say it bashfully. She’d move his attention away from between her legs because she was just like that sometimes. He adored her to pieces with every fibre in his body.

As she crawled over to him, he sat back on his legs, his hands stretched out behind him as his cock bobbed with excitement. His eyes were on her, right where they belonged, watching her lower herself slightly and very teasingly dipped her tongue into his slit, tonguing away his precum. His breath hitched and his hands fisted the sheets, his hips instinctively moving upwards.

“Yummy,” she said playfully, moving up his body. He stared at her with parted lips, panting as his cock ached for attention, but her hands slid up his thighs and stayed there.

“Please,” he moaned impatiently. She blinked at him once, a little smile on her face making her even more irresistible. She shifted slightly, but his eyes were glued on her as she slowly trailed her fingertips up his cock. She became flustered and averted her gaze to his lips, leaning forward just a bit when he became a little too intense to stare at. Dean felt his lips tingle as they brushed against hers, but he let her have control, let her tease him by refusing to just kiss him senseless.

Her touch was teasing, light and slow as she moved her hand up and down at last. Her thumb swiped over the slit, spreading the warm precum that had started to bead out, her mouth watering at the sight. But instead of continuing to tease him, she moved onto his lap, pulled away from his face to guide his cock to her soaked entrance. And just with the sensation of her warmth around the tip, he whined.

The sound made her insides quiver and she cursed under her breath, a little smirk tugging at her lips. His hands clasped her thighs painfully, the tortuous way she slid down the length of him made him roll his hips up impatiently. The breath she took had caught in her chest at how good it felt to be this close to him once again.

Her lips were on his again, at last, swiftly aiding the passion that made her tummy warm, that made his body burn with so much heat he felt like a sun had started to burn inside of him. He loved it. Being loud on purpose. Losing himself in her completely and giving in, letting her take control and please him the way only she knew how to do.

A loud moan slipped past his lips, into her loving mouth when she sat fully on his lap. The way she tightened around him after each sound spurred him on. His hands moved up her sides, grasping tightly at her hips, hoping to mark her skin as he tugged her forward, fervently giving himself pleasure.

“Just wait,” she murmured against his lips, pulling away to push his shoulders until he was lying down on his back. He whined in response, bratty—cutely refusing to stop. His head tipped back, letting his body relax into the bed while he lifted his hips up, his lips parting to vocalise more of his pleasure. “You’re so fucking pretty,” she chuckled breathlessly, staring down at him—utterly enraptured by his impatience and his determination to make himself feel good.

“Need to cum so ba-Fuck!” He screwed his eyes shut when she lifted herself up and roughly slammed back down. She smiled and laughed, slightly amused and then leaned forward to kiss him, his eyes barely starting to open, only to flutter shut again when he got lost in her kiss.

“You’re so fucking desperate, D,” she teased, her lips brushing against his hairline. A whine from him at her words showed her that he liked it and she moaned in response, continuing to ride him as eagerly as he wanted her to.

His eyes were fixated on hers, heavy with lust, pupils dilated with both love and desire. The way she lifted herself with such agility tore more sounds of pleasure from his throat, deep and rumbling groans that came from within his chest and made her smirk smugly at him. It was so hot, it drew so much arousal from her that lifting herself up and down was embarrassingly smooth, the squelching sound of her pussy being filled by his cock echoed around his room and made his moans get louder.

His grip on her hips tightened, blunt nails digging into her flesh, his back arching from how rough she was fucking him, giving him so much pleasure he thought he’d explode. “Fuck, baby, ‘m so close,” he moaned. His mind was hazy, his skin burning hot and sensitive so that even the way she dug her nails into his chest added to his pleasure. He loved being on the bottom, more than he’d like to admit.

“I could cum just listening to you, Dean,” she panted, leaning over him slightly, one of her hands clutching the pillow his head rested on. She changed the angle of her hips, her clit rubbing against his pelvis, her other hand slid up his chest, wrapping around his throat and squeezing gently.

“Shit,” he gasped, his hips bucking upwards.

“You’re so kinky,” she chuckled, “how about you just cum already, D?” She clenched around him, a gasp slipping past his lips. He shook his head, his teeth digging into his plump bottom lip to hold back another moan, his stomach tightening as he tried holding back his orgasm. “Fine,” she chuckled, grinding down on him to stimulate her clit until he was whining, bringing herself closer to the edge as he squirmed beneath her.

“Oh… fuck,” he moaned loudly, his orgasm washing over him before he could even stop it. An arousing look contorted his face as he came, quick curses and whispers of her name puffing past his parted lips that left his mouth and lips dry, making him look so beautiful.

“That’s right, D,” she chuckled, biting her lip to muffle a moan when she felt the warmth of his cum inside her. She started to lift herself up and down again, hard and fast until she reached her own orgasm, her velvety walls squeezing him tightly, and he took it despite how sensitive he was starting to get.

He let her finish, his fingers bruising the flesh of her hips until she stopped shuddering completely. Her entire body turned to jelly, a little smile growing on her lips, gazing at each other in the slight darkness of his room. Only one lamp allowed him to see the state she was in, flushed and a little sweaty like him.

Her gentle eyes swept over his face, watching neutrally as he sat up tiredly, a languid smile on his face when their breaths became normal again, “I didn’t expect that,” he murmured hoarsely, brushing her hair to the side and kissing her cheek. She relaxed in his arms, placing a little kiss on his lips before resting her cheek on his shoulders.

“Y’know I don’t believe you, right?” She mumbled against his shoulder, smirking when his hands stilled on her back. He recovered quickly, his hands continuing to venture up and down her spine, ignoring the feeling of their cum oozing out of her.

“What do you mean?” he chuckled deeply, “I didn’t plan on us having sex tonight.” He knew he sounded unconvincing, but mostly he knew that she wasn’t talking about that at all.

“What were you reading?” She asked, pulling away to analyse him. He swallowed nervously, licking his dry lips as he thought about what to say, but he still felt dazed from his orgasm that no lie to get himself out of the situation came to his mind to rescue him. “Tell me, if it gets you this worked up, I might have to give it a read,” she teased, lifting herself off him.

“Fuck,” he hissed, smacking her ass when he saw she was purposely lifting herself up slowly. She plopped down next to him, rubbing her thighs together as her pussy continued to throb with. He bit his lip gently and admired her, dragging his hand up her soft and warm thighs to reach between her legs where she was completely soaked. “I’m too embarrassed to tell you,” he chuckled, gently massaging her sensitive clit.

“That’s okay because I already know,” she whispered, moving his hand away from between her legs so she could return to his lap. His lips parted, a look of confusion and embarrassment turned his face red, his lips parting with no words being formed. “I clean your room, D, it’s not just magically without dust all the time.. Plus I’m curious about your porn, okay? Some of those ladies are crazy fine,” she chuckled, kissing him passionately.

He pulled away from the kiss, giving her a dirty look that made her laugh. “I’m going to throw them out if you say that again,” he pouted, his fingers mindlessly caressing her thighs.

“Don’t be jealous of them, you know you're my only girl, Dean,” she teased, burying her fingers into his hair and tugging him forward to give him one of the best kisses of his life. He moaned softly, his hands flexing on her thighs, instinctively bringing her closer so her body was pressed against his. He whined against her mouth, pouting at again. Her teeth dug into his plump lower lip, seductively pulling it before she let it go and smiled down at him.

She snickered when she saw the confused look on his face. “I don’t even know what that means,” he mumbled cutely, tracing a few freckles on her legs. She sighed dramatically and grinned at him, getting up to clean herself with a random hand towel he had in his drawer.

He watched her naked body move itself away from him with another pout on his face, waiting for her to look back at him. She did eventually, smirking and shaking her head. He blushed, becoming a little shy, he turned over onto his side to watch her but also to stop himself from doing things to get her attention.

She turned the water on in the sink and leaned against it to clean herself up, letting him see his work. He held his breath, heat spreading over his face like a fire in the forest, his hands clutching his pillow. His eyes were fixated on her every movement, inspecting the way she spread her folds open to clean herself thoroughly despite the sleepiness that made his eyes heavy.

“Enjoying the show?” She smirked, glancing up at him. His eyes snapped up to her face and he shrugged with a little laugh.

“Always.” She stood normally and walked towards him again, into his soft bed until she was right next to him. The towel was slightly wet, and she folded it to use a clean part on him, carefully taking his soft cock to clean him. He hissed quietly, watching her face at first, and then watching how gentle she was with her hands, reaching down to his balls to clean where their cum and her arousal had dripped down. “Round two?” He whimpered and she smirked, pulling her hands away from his dick.

“As horny as I still am, you need to sleep, baby.” Her shoulders shook with silent laughter and he nodded, a lazy smile growing on his lips. He loved this. She moved out of bed to place the dirty towel somewhere to remind herself to wash it tomorrow, and then to wash her hands before she made her way to his drawers to pick a clean pair of boxers for him and clean panties for herself.

She slipped the Led Zeppelin shirt on again and handed him the Henley he’d been wearing, but he childishly put it on the nightstand, “no, I want easy access in the morning,” he whined, stopping her from taking his boxers to him. She laughed softly, then returned their underwear to the drawer neatly.

“Does that mean I’m the little spoon tonight?” She asked, amused, taking his shirt to fold it neatly and placed it back in place. He nodded, fixing the blanket so she could join him beneath them. “Okay, pretty boy,” she murmured, smiling as she made her way to him beneath the sheets, kissing him softly and mumbling goodnight against his lips before turning around. His arm slung over her waist, a happy smile growing on his lips, snuggling closer to her warm body as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

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ninii-winchester · 2 months

Text

Revived (Final)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 1.3k

Warnings : mentions of medical aid, potential spoilers s9, mark of cain mentioned, fluff(?)

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Dean's hand shook as he carried Y/n inside the motel room. Sam quickly fetched the medical kit and rushed to her side. Laying her down on one of the beds, Dean carefully teared apart the hole which was caused by the blade stab, giving Sam more room to stitch her thigh.

After her wound was closed and bandaged Dean helped her with a glass of water, encouraging her to take small sips. After the small cuts on her face were cleaned too, the room fell into a uncomfortable silence. Dean's gaze was hard as he stared at her, now that the anxiety rush of her being in danger passed, he's furious. The demon's word came crashing back into him. For a minute he could've let it go, given demons lie all the time. But Crowley's appearance had nailed down the last bit of uncertainty he had.

Y/n had actually sold her soul.

Sam paced the room, unable to wrap his head around the events of last few hours. This was supposed to be a normal hunt, no different from any other one they've ever been on, never in his entire life he could've expected this outcome of a supposed hunt.

Y/n's heart was beating rapidly, she could feel it against her ribcage, as if it would jump out of her mouth any second. She knew what she had done and she knew she'd have to deal with the consequences of her actions but it never occurred to her, that it would come hit her sooner than she has expected. The look on both brothers face told her that neither of them were pleased with her decision. She decided its time she bites the bullet and get this over with.

"Say it." She whispered lowly. None of the boys spoke for a whole minute before Sam spoke,

"Why'd you do it?" He questioned, "Rowena said she can bring him back."

"She told me she couldn't do it. She lied because I told her to." She replied avoiding eye contact with either brother. "She said it's not a hex or curse so cannot undo it, Dean died because he hit his head."

"You told me not to do it and you go ahead and do the exact same thing!" Sam exclaimed while Dean continued to watch them silently. When she didn't reply Sam shook his head slumping down on a chair. She took a deep breath before answering,

"You two have been dancing this dance for so long. I knew Dean would be pissed if he found out you sold your soul. I just wanted him back, is it so wrong?" She said her voice getting louder.

"And you think I wouldn't be pissed if it were you?" Dean finally spoke.

"It doesn't matter. I did what I wanted to. You're not the boss of me." She replied crossing her arms across her chest.

"I.." Dean pinched the bridge of his nose before he spoke again, "this isn't about being anyone's boss, how could you be so stupid?" He snapped stepping closer to her bed. Sam felt the tension rising in the room so he quietly slipped out of the room.

"Call me stupid, reckless or careless. Truth is I am selfish." She yelled, tears welling up in her eyes. Dean recoiled a bit at that. "I am selfish, I don't want to live in world where there is no Dean Winchester. I would do it over and over again if it means that you survive." Her voice turned low as she looked away, her lip quivering as she tried to keep herself from crying her wits out.

Dean hadn't expected her to express herself so openly, he knew the two of them confessed to being in love with each other but he never guessed the intensity of her love for him. He took a cautious step towards her and sat beside her on the bed.

"Hey, look at me." Dean spoke as softly as he could. "I understand your feelings but sacrificing your life for me isn't what I want from anyone, not you, not Sammy or anyone else." He cupped her cheek in his hand.

"Dean, I got fifteen years before the sacrifice comes into play. And I'm a hunter, who's to say I was going to live a long life. I'm happy to give my life as long as I get to spend it with you, or whatever's left of it."

"Hell ain't no field trip, sweetheart. I don't want you to go through all that pain."

"We'll think about it when we get there. One day at a time?"

Dean sighed knowing there's no way out it. He would never be able to convince her to undo it. For him, fifteen years is too less to spend with her, but it's enough for him to get here out this mess. And he swore on everything he loves, he will get her out of this mess.

Dean has never considered himself lucky, if anything he's always thought that fate was out there to get him. To fuck him up in more ways than one, but this time, he felt the cards were stacked in his favour.

Dean and Crowley went to see Cain, they decided to team up to take down Abbadon. Cain was nonchalant about the demons attacking them while Dean fought vigorously. Crowley dealt with some other demons and came to where Dean and Cain were.

"If you want I can give you the mark Dean," Cain spoke with urgency. "With the mark and the First Blade, you can take care of Abbadon."

Dean looked at Crowley, who seemed like he was ready to beg on his knees for him to do it. But Dean didn't want him to beg, his gaze turned demanding.

"Her soul." Was the only thing he said.

Cain looked back and forth between the Winchester and The king of Hell. Crowley rolled his eyes but brought up a piece of paper and burned it.

"Your girl's soul is her own now." Crowley spoke, not happy about giving it back but he had bigger problems at hand.

Cain raised a brow at Crowley's words and he added, "you're much more like me than I thought." He said remembering how he left all the Hell business behind for his Colette. Dean nodded towards Cain's mark and the man transferred the mark to Dean.

"Are you fucking insane?" Was the first thing Y/n yelled as soon as she saw the Mark on Dean's arm.

"Insanely in love with you, yes." He replied plopping on the chair, taking a swig of his beer.

"Not funny, Dean. What did you do!?" She exclaimed observing his arm.

"Wasn't trying to be funny, sweetheart. Crowley had your soul and he gave it back in exchange of me ganking that Abbadon bitch." Dean said nonchalantly and it angered her to no end.

"You're talking as if you just bought groceries Dean, what the hell is wrong with you? That Mark is evil, it'll turn you into a monster." Dean stood up from his chair and walked over to her.

"I have you to keep me grounded. And I'd rather be a monster than let you go to hell. This discussion is over." He pecked her lips before walking away.

That discussion was far from over but Dean made sure it was never brought up ever again. It was hard time for Y/n when Dean became a demon. It took Y/n and Sam a lot of blood, sweat and tears to bring him back but they did it.

“Can we please promise no more bargains with demons?” Y/n sighed into Dean’s chest as he held her tightly in his embrace.

“It’s a deal.” She looked at him with an incredulous look and he winked at her. She sighed dropping her forehead on his chest. He’s a cheeky bastard but he’s her cheeky bastard. And she wouldn’t trade him for the world.

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