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nuemanfilms · 26 days ago

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FUCK IT DEEP | S.W

Summary; Sam finds himself wanting to be corrupted by the demon staying with him and his brother, seems like she wants the same thing.

Content Warnings; creampie, piv (unprotected, don’t do that), heavy breeding kink, praise, dirty talk, demon!reader, mentions of Dean, pet names, sweet talk, Switch!Sam, teasing, no foreplay, size kink, belly bulge, brief mention of m!masturbation, slight fingering at the end.

A/N; i disappeared for two weeks, uh.. 1.7k WC

16+ I am not responsible for the content you consume under this age.

Sam and Dean had asked you to help them with a case in exchange for you staying at the bunker for a couple of days. Those days were hell on earth for Sam—no pun intended.

Your bickering with Dean wasn’t the problem. Dean not keeping up with his laundry resulting in you having to walk around the Bunker in a towel was the problem. It’s not like Sam didn’t enjoy the view- God, he loved it. It was just the predicament you always left him in.

Those lingering touches when he hands you coffee, how your fingers stay on his knuckles for more than needed, even if it was a couple seconds at least, he was getting hard on the spot. The way you looked at him, how you walked down the hallway like a runaway model… God, he had it bad.

Going to the bathroom to clean himself, muttering out some pathetic excuse that he was going to take a shower just wasn’t working anymore. He needed you, in more ways than one.

He was a hunter. He was supposed to hunt you down, stop you from causing chaos… you were a demon. Yet for some reason, that drew him in even more. You were like a forbidden fruit that he was begging to take a bite out of.

He didn’t care if you ruined his life, if anything, he wanted you to ruin his life. He’d gladly get on his knees if you asked. He’d do anything just for one sign of attraction towards him from you.

Dean noticed the glances, the tension every time you stepped into the kitchen with a towel covering your upper and lower half. He saw how Sam’s eyes lingered on your thighs for too long.

Sam wanted to feel those thighs wrapped around his waist while he shoved himself- Yeah, no.

It was another day, the last day you’d share with the brothers. Sam was relieved, but also disappointed that the days had gone by so fast.

Sam stood in the kitchen, his front pressed against the counter as he poured a cup of coffee into the mug. It wasn’t that bad of a day, he hadn’t seen you come out of your room yet. He did hear the shower running though, Dean was most likely still asleep. He never was an early bird.

His head perked up when the bathroom door opened, his eyes trailed down to run over your figure as you shut the door behind you. The towel wrapped clad around you, your steps so careful yet so alluring. He really hoped you didn’t notice him checking you out.

“Mornin’,” Sam redirected his eyes to the mug, he heard each footstep you made. They were cautious, but bold.

“Hey, Sammy…” His cheeks tinted at the sultry tone in your voice. You stood behind him, watching as he turned around to face you. Startled slightly by your presence.

He locked eyes with you, the size difference between him and your vessel was noticeable. If anything, it turned him on even more. He was tense, and he knew what teasing he was to face.

“I don’t bite, Sam. No need to be so… tense.” You teased him, a devilish smile curling on your lips. He managed to stutter out a response, he didn’t think he could get any more red. But of course, the universe was never in his flavor. He was obviously blushing, you could read him like a book.

“S-Sorry…” He murmured, looking anywhere but your face now.

The attraction you felt towards the younger Winchester was much more concealed than his own. The pet names you gave him, they were all a sign that he was oblivious to. You were always bold with what you wanted, yet you waited for the right time. Getting him cornered, Dean out of sight, and of course, making him flustered.

You leaned forward, your eyes gauging for his reaction. His own eyes widened, but he found himself unconsciously inching closer.

“What… What are you doing?” He breathed, you took his hands in your own, placing them on your hips. He hesitantly held the flesh beneath his fingers, his touch rough but gentle.

“It’s okay, Sam... it’s just us, remember? We’re all alone.” You reassured, your lips inched closer to his own. Inches away from finally connecting them. As much as Sam wanted this, hell, needed this… Dean was still in the Bunker. He could’ve walked in any time.

“Dean-“ You cut him off, pressing your finger to his lips.

“Fast asleep, your room’s down the hall…” His walls of resistance were crumbling. You were breaking them down just by the words spilling from your mouth.

Before you could react, Sam lifted you. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to carry you into his room.

He placed you down on the bed, your hands went up to rest in his hair. Tugging him closer so you could press your lips against yours. Sam let out a groan, his hands now willingly roaming your frame. He pressed his hips down into your core, you gasped against him. You could feel how much he was aching for you, for this.

You definitely should’ve done this sooner.

It seemed rushed, he trailed his lips down from your own to your neck, proceeding to press open mouthed kisses against your collarbone. He pulled the towel off from your form, lowering his head down so he could latch onto your nipple. Moans of pleasure erupted from your throat. You trailed your hands down his body, reaching to undo the leather of his belt.

Sam’s fingers moved to tweak at your nipples, his mouth focused on one breast before he moved to the other. Repeating his previous actions to your nipple he detached from.

“Sam, fuck- Get this damn belt off... I need you inside of me.” You whispered, your breaths heavy as he covered your hands with his own.

“Are you sure? You don’t want me to-“

“I don’t care. Fuck me. Now.” He nodded, making quick work to discard his denim.

He freed his cock from his boxers, spreading your legs apart with both hands. When the cold air hit your bare pussy, you whimpered. He smirked at that, “Was gonna eat this pretty pussy… but we’re both too desperate for that right now, aren’t we?” He teased, his voice shifted to a dominant tone. Seeing you laid out beneath him, fully exposed, it did things to him. His shyness was now pushed away, his dominance now evident.

He wrapped his hand around his shaft, pumping a few times before aligning with your entrance. He slid his tip up and down, teasing you. His head bumped against your clit once, you let out a moan.

“Don’t you dare tease me right now-“ He cut you off by pushing himself past your folds. You let out a moan in unison. He knew your vessel wasn’t a virgin, but jesus… how were you still so tight?

“Tight fucking pussy- God…” He groaned, his hand gripped your hip. Steadying you as he managed to get the rest of his length in. You could feel every vein, every inch. You knew the man was big, you saw him. But nothing would compare to how he stretched you out so deliciously.

His thumb circled your clit, attempting to loosen you up so he could fill you to the hilt. His eyes were drawn to how he was nestled inside of your cunt. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple in an attempt to soothe you.

“It’s gonna- shit… it’s gonna feel good in a minute, baby.” Sam cooed, he could see the tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. He kissed your cheek, “See? Good girl…” He praised, he waited for your nod of consent for him to continue.

“You… You can move.” You felt so full, sure it’s been a while since you had some action… but you never took someone this big. No one could compare to the feeling of Sam’s girth inside of your pussy.

His hips snapped suddenly, you let out a cry. He was already establishing a pace. It was rough, yet his thrusts were calculated and even. He was providing you pleasure that you’d never felt in your lifetime.

“Fuck, you’re gripping me so tight, Honey… Can you feel me? I’m right about heeeereee…” Two of his fingers pressed down on the bulge in your tummy. You moaned and whined beneath him, crying his name, repeating it over and over like a damn mantra.

The creamy ring around the base of his cock had him groaning, seeing how you stretched so perfectly around his length as he moved in and out of you had him nearly falling apart right then and there. He held it though, he wasn’t going to let go until he felt you let go first.

“Sam, Sammy…” You sounded so dumbed down, your brain turning to mush as he used your body for all it’s worth. You squeezed his length, signaling you were close to finishing.

“Atta’ girl… C’mon, come for me. I know you wanna drain me, huh? Get this tight pussy filled with my cum, I'm gonna make you feel me for days, Sweetheart. Gonna fuck it so deep inside your little hole, hm?” Your eyes practically rolled in the back of your head. Your vision was blurry, and you felt that knot tighten in your belly. He was so deep… he was rearranging your guts it felt like. Fucking you so passionately, yet so messy at the same time.

“Mm… I want you to come inside me, Sammy—“ You moaned, when he punctuated a few more thrusts, you came apart. He felt that squeeze around his shaft and he stilled. Balls deep inside of your cunt as he emptied inside of you.

“Fuck, baby… you really needed that, didn’t you? Needed a thick cock stretching this pussy open… shit, took me so well.” He pulled out slowly, your mixed arousal flowed out of your abused hole. He took his middle finger, pushing as much of his release back inside as he could. You let out a tiny whimper, clearly sensitive, but you took it.

“Good fuckin’ girl, Sweetie.”

#sam winchester smut #supernatural #fem!reader #sam winchester #jared padalecki #sam winchester x female reader #demon!reader #sam winchester x reader

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ultravi0lence14 · 2 months ago

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All I Want Is You

demon!dean winchester x fem!reader

1.3k | angst

summary: as dean finds himself turned into a demon, the only thing that seems to be on his mind is getting back to you. but did you really know the extent he would take to achieve that?

dean was in a frenzy, and all he wanted was to get back to you.

the memory of your skin on his kept him awake at night, tossing and turning until the sun rose and his hair was a crazed mess in his fingers.

it had been weeks since metatron had killed the eldest winchester. awakening the mark on his arm and turning him into a black eyed devil. he had left in a rush with crowley, not even saying goodbye to you or sam as the older demon whisked him away to go have some fun.

but his mind was a constant replay of your face, your voice, the feeling of your lips on his. all dean wanted was to have you back in his arms, and the weighing feeling on his demonic heart had him springing up in the middle of the night and ditching crowley to go and find you.

wherever he went, a line of bodies would follow behind him. his bar outings never stopped, and sometimes he just needed to blow off some steam by driving the first blade into some poor man’s chest.

he never got into bed with anyone though, for the thought of having anyone but you made him sick to his stomach. even as a demon, dean was forever loyal to you and only you. he hadn’t slept with any other woman in the three years you’d been together, and he wasn’t going to change that just because of the circumstances he was in now.

when he’d finally made it to the outskirts of the bunker, dean knew he couldn’t just go barging in. sam would try to save him, would try to keep you and him apart. he needed to find you first, needed to talk to you before sam tried to do anything.

driving into town, dean looked everywhere for any signs of you. when he noticed your car outside of a quaint bookshop, he didn’t hesitate to pull up in the spot beside yours, instantly making a beeline for the store.

dean lurked around the corners of the isles, trying to look for you while also attempting to keep his cover. he didn’t know if sam had joined you or not, and he didn’t want to be spotted by his brother before he could even see you.

turning a corner, dean finally caught sight of your long hair and defined side profile. even though he was a demon, he could still feel the air escape his lungs and the mood change around him. seeing you for the first time in weeks had him feeling things he’s never felt before. all dean wanted to do was run up to you and wrap his arms around your body. though his actions were halted as another man came into view from the other side of the isle and walked right over to you.

an instant feeling of rage took over dean’s senses. how dare this man talk to his girl? how dare he even be near her. little to dean’s knowledge, the man was simply just a customer. his only reason for talking to you was that he noticed the book you held in your hand was the one he was looking for, and he was wondering if there were anymore copies left.

the demon inside of dean didn’t understand that. so after the man left the store, dean followed him outside and brutally stabbed him with the first blade in a nearby alleyway.

something wasn’t right. you could feel that something terrible was happening, you just couldn’t place your finger on it. the recent murders in town had startled both you and sam, but you didn’t think that was what had you all worried.

that was until you started to think a little deeper.

turns out, each and every victim was someone you had encountered not even 24 hours before their timely death. the man from the bookstore, the cashier at the supermarket who made a gross comment on your outfit, even the nice old man who helped you at the flower shop had turned up slaughtered in a gruesome way.

you couldn’t understand why people you had interacted with for no more than a mere five minutes were being found dead in such graphic ways. if it wasn’t for sam suggesting that dean might have a play in all of it, you wouldn’t even bat an eye in his direction.

no, you didn’t want to believe it. why would dean do this? to taunt you? dean was your boyfriend, the man you had loved for three years now, and nothing was going to change that. you and sam wanted to cure him, make him human again. him going around killing men who just talked to you had tears welling in your eyes, for the thought of how dean would react when he became human again broke your heart.

it had been a week since the murders started, and you tried to keep a distance from any men when you went out. it was for their own safety, for you knew that if dean noticed they’d be dead by sunrise.

but sam had an idea, and with his idea came you flirting with a random man in hopes of luring dean out.

unsurprisingly it worked. after the man had left you bar, you and sam followed him outside to where dean promptly ambushed him, almost landing a stab on his gut if it wasn’t for sam tackling him to the ground and knocking the blade out of dean’s hand.

the two brothers fought for some time, and when you made sure that the stranger was long gone, you grabbed the first blade and made a deal in shouting loudly to get dean’s attention.

instantly at the sound of your voice, dean pushed sam aside and stared longingly at you, pleading heavily to give you the blade back. but you weren’t budging, the only way you would give dean winchester the first blade was over your dead body.

“dean.” you started, moving slightly closer to where he stood. “i know what you’ve been doing. killing men i’ve talked to. but that’s not going to get me back dean. it’s just going to push me away.” your words had dean deflating, an angry look taking over his eyes as he now started to circle you.

“push you away? are you kidding me Y/N! i did it for you! all of it was for you! how can’t you see that?” at that point you’d realized that in dean’s demonic hazed brain, he believed that killing any man that got in his way to you would somehow have you crawling back to him.

that wasn’t going to work on you. all you wanted was your dean back. the dean who still watched scooby doo and wore punny socks, not the man who slaughtered innocent people just to get your attention.

somewhere deep down, you knew that dean’s love for you was still there. he wouldn’t be doing all of this if a part of him didn’t still care for you. but saving dean was you and sam’s number one priority, and getting dean back to his actual self would be all you wanted at the moment.

smiling softly, you whispered ‘i know’ just as sam hit dean over the head with a wooden beam, knocking him unconscious on the ground.

you knelt down beside him as sam put the demon cuffs on his wrists, allowing you to help him haul dean into the back of the impala, starting your journey back to the bunker to cure him.

turning around in your seat, you looked at dean’s closed eyes and parted lips as you stroked his cheek. smiling sadly as sam started the car. “don’t worry, dean. we’re going to help you.” a kiss was landed on his forehead before you turned back around, placing your head on the window as the journey towards his recovery came to the end.

#supernatural #imagine #supernatural x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #sam winchester #demon dean

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months ago

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Useless

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Demon Dean & little sister!reader

Requested by @abiball027

Synopsis: Dean does some things as a demon that everyone regrets.

Warnings: demon blood addiction, demon Dean gets the reader addicted to demon blood, kidnapping, this one’s kinda dark guys, angst with a happy ending.

Your body was on autopilot as it led you through the bunker. You didn’t even realize you were headed to Dean’s room until you stopped in front of his door, unable to go further. Your hand twitched towards the knob, but you stopped yourself from reaching out to grab it.

There was nothing in there you wanted to see. You didn’t want to look at Dean’s body again; you couldn’t.

You staggered in surprise when the door flung open. Dean’s frame filled the doorway, and it was all you could do to stay upright.

“De…what…” you caught sight of Crowley in the room behind him, and you directed your next words at the king of hell. “You—did you bring him back?”

You didn’t want to wait for an answer; in fact, you were a split second away from throwing yourself at your big brother when Crowley stepped between you.

“I wouldn’t do that; he’s still adjusting.”

“Adjusting? Crowley, what did you do?” You demanded, before shaking your head. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’ve gotta tell Sam.” You turned to go, but Dean’s hand shot out at an inhuman speed, and he held your arm in a vice grip.

“What—Dean?” You looked up in surprise at your big brother.

“No Sam,” he demanded, but his eyes seemed unfocused. That is, until he blinked and they flashed black. You wrestled your arm from him and stepped back, your hand going to the demon knife at your belt. You pulled it out, directing it at Crowley.

“You…” your voice shook with anger, and you nearly choked on it. “You let one of your filthy demons possess my brother?”

“Not exactly.” Crowley shrugged.

“What—“

Dean interrupted you.

“It’s all me, sweetheart.”

“That’s not possible.” You shook your head. “It can’t be.”

“Oh it’s Dean alright,” Crowley said. “Because of the Mark of Cain, he can’t be killed. I merely brought his soul out of its little…hibernation. Or, chrysalis, I suppose is a better analogy. And now he’s evolved into…well, this.”

Dean and Crowley’s matching grins turned your stomach.

“W-we…” you swallowed, trying to let your mind catch up with your racing heart. “We can fix this. We know how-how to cure demons. I can get Sam and we—“

“No!” Dean’s sudden tone change made you flinch. “I don’t want to be cured, and you’re not going to get Sam.”

“I-I don’t understand.” you shivered.

“No. You wouldn’t.” Dean chuckled darkly. “You wouldn’t understand power.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. You’ve always been the weak one, so you wouldn’t understand what having power feels like.” Dean’s eyes flashed black again, and you flinched. “Well I’ve got power now, and I like how it feels.”

“Stop it.” You shook your head, turning to Crowley. “Dean wouldn’t say this stuff. What did you do to him?” You yelped in surprise when Dean’s hands once again grabbed your arms.

“It’s all me, N/N. The new me. The better me.”

You tried to break free from Dean’s grip, but he wouldn’t let go. Crowley stepped forwards, putting a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“We should get out of here while Moose is still gone.”

“You’re right.” Dean didn’t release his grip on your arm. “But I’m bringing her with.”

“What?” You and Crowley asked in horrified unison.

“Dean, you agreed to leave it all behind. You said you didn’t want—“

“I said I didn’t want Sam stopping me,” Dean interrupted Crowley. “She’s not strong enough to do anything to me.” Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as Dean continued. “But, with a little help, she could be useful.”

“Help?” Crowley frowned. “How could she do anything for us?”

“She can…” Dean’s eyes flashed black—it seemed to be his new favorite trick. “If I give her a taste of power.” Dean shoved you towards Crowley. “Hold her still.”

Crowley took hold of your arms without question, although he was clearly hesitant.

Dean took the demon knife out of your hands easily, and he sliced a small cut on the heel of his hand.

“What are you—“

Dean took advantage of your mouth being open by pressing the heel of his hand to your lips. You froze up as Dean’s other hand came up to plug your nose.

He’d completely cut off your air, and you struggled as the metallic taste of Dean’s blood invaded your mouth. He and Crowley easily held you still, and Dean kept his hand there for several seconds before moving it so that his palm was covering your mouth. No more blood was going in, but you still couldn’t breathe.

“Swallow and I’ll let you go,” Dean said. You continued to struggle, but it was useless. “C’mon little sister, just swallow.”

You struggled until you felt dizzy and your lungs were screaming. You swallowed almost without meaning to, the bitter taste of Dean’s blood invading your senses. Dean and Crowley released you simultaneously.

You backed away from both men, stumbling against the wall as you gasped for breath. You didn’t even know what to say; you were too confused, too hurt, too scared.

“What was that?” Crowley asked, sounding as confused as you felt.

“Like I told you,” Dean growled. “With a little power, this little rugrat might be useful. And since I’m the one controlling the power…” Dean waved a hand over his cut wrist, and it healed itself. “I’m the one who she has to listen to. The perfect little sidekick.”

You didn’t need to hear anything more. You turned on your heel and tried to run, but Dean grabbed onto your arms and flung you against the wall. The back of your head hit the wall, and suddenly you couldn’t see or feel anything.

…

You awoke to the gentle purr of the Impala, and for a long moment you couldn’t tell what was going on. Were you on a hunt? You couldn’t remember. Then you tried to move your hands to rub your face, and they stopped, impeded by something metal. Your eyes fluttered open, and the first thing you saw was your hands cuffed to the back of Dean’s seat. Crowley was in the passenger seat, and the memories came back almost instantly.

“She’s awake,” Crowley said.

“Ahh, good morning sweetheart,” Dean grinned, a sickeningly sinister smirk that looked nothing like your big brother.

“Where are we? Where are we going?” You looked out the windows, but the road sides were no help to your poor sense of direction.

Dean just chuckled.

“Wherever we want.”

…

The three of you drove all day, and once the sun lowered behind the horizon line, Dean pulled into a seedy motel. He opened his door and came around to your door. He didn’t unlock your cuffs; instead, he pulled a flask from his back pocket and unscrewed it, bringing it up to your mouth. You knew it was his blood before the liquid touched your lips, but again your struggles were futile as Dean held his hands over your mouth and nose until you swallowed.

“See, that’s not so bad,” Dean cooed even as you shuddered. “A few more of these and you’ll be so hooked, you’ll be begging me for another hit.”

Crowley watched with an unreadable expression as Dean freed your wrists from the handcuffs and led you inside the motel. Within minutes, Dean had you cuffed to the air conditioner in his room, and he and Crowley were off to party at the nearest bar. You tried to wiggle around to reach into your pocket, only to discover that Dean must’ve taken your phone and lock picking kit while you were knocked out. With nothing to focus on, you became acutely aware of the hunger pangs that were becoming more frequent: you hadn’t eaten since you’d been in the bunker. But soon, a different hunger took hold of you. It was unfamiliar, and it hurt worse than normal hunger. Fear began to nag at you, but you shook it off. You couldn’t be hooked on demon blood already, could you?

You couldn’t be sure, and that only flamed your panic. This whole situation was crazy, and you didn’t know how to adjust; Dean, a demon; you, kidnapped; and demon blood being fed to you no matter how much you tried to resist. Your mind played around with the idea that it wasn’t really Dean—that Crowley had lied and it really was some random demon inside your brother’s corpse—but you knew that Crowley, as devious as he was, had no reason to lie.

And that meant that it really was your big brother, trying to turn you into a demon blood addict just so that he could use you.

“We’re back!” Dean crowed triumphantly, snapping you out of your thoughts as he entered the motel with Crowley at his heels. A fast food bag was tossed into your lap, and Dean reached over your head and released you from the handcuffs. You chowed down on the burger without hesitation—you were too hungry to be ornery—noting in the back of your mind that Dean had remembered exactly how you liked your food; maybe he was still in there somewhere.

To your dismay, the food could only satisfy so much, and that unfamiliar pain lingered. You felt your eyes unintentionally slipping towards Dean’s flask, and unfortunately Dean noticed too. A wide grin split his face as he looked from you to his flask.

“Knew it wouldn’t take much to have you hooked,” he said, and when you started to shake your head in a panic his gaze softened—if only slightly. “Hey now,” he soothed, coming to sit by you and pulling out his flask. “It hurts, right?” At your hesitant nod, he continued. “I know it does. Now let your big brother take the pain away, ok?”

His tone was so familiar, and yet so unfamiliar at the same time. Soothing words that Dean might say to you before stitching up a wound—but that was not what was happening now. Dean’s voice was gentle, but his eyes held a dead indifference that had never been directed at you, not from Dean. Everything felt so wrong, and you were so overwhelmed and hurting that you could do nothing but cry softly as Dean lifted the flask to your lips and forced the liquid down your throat. He didn’t even bother to plug your nose, as you were too tired to fight him—you swallowed with no protest other than the tears tracking down your cheeks.

White hot shame filled you along with the demon blood. You had more fight in you than this, you knew you did. But this was different.

You’d never expected to be fighting against your brother, and that thought alone drained all of the fight in you.

“There it is.” Dean’s smirk turned your stomach, and you were already starting to regret eating that burger. “See? Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You tried to turn away from him, but he grabbed onto your shoulder.

“C’mon, I’m gonna cuff you near the couch so you can get some sleep.”

Dean cuffed your hands to the nightstand next to the couch. You could lay on the couch with your arms stretched over your head; it was uncomfortable, but better than the floor you supposed.

To your surprise, you fell asleep quickly, drained from the long day on edge. But it was a fitful sleep, and some time in the middle of the night you awoke panting. It took you a moment to realize what was different; you weren’t handcuffed anymore. You looked down in your lap to see the cuffs in three pieces. You stared down at your hands; had you done that?

A groan from one of the beds had you flinching as Dean sat up. His eyes found you in the dark, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw the black abyss that used to be your brothers bright green eyes. Then he blinked, and the green was there, but it wasn’t the same.

“Go back to sleep,” he demanded, and you were laying back down when he suddenly got up. You felt your body shaking as Dean approached you; you’d never been more scared of anyone than you were of Dean right now.

“Seems the demon blood is working,” Dean chuckled as he held up the broken cuffs. His eyes flickered to you. “How does power feel, little sister?”

You didn’t know how to answer that question. You didn’t feel powerful. Sure, you could break steel without even meaning to, but you had no power over your situation; if anything you felt more helpless than you ever had.

Unless…

Remembering Sam’s powers when he’d been drinking demon blood, you pushed your hand out in front of you. Before you even made contact with Dean, he staggered back and fell—you had telekinesis!

You jumped up from the couch and ran for the door. It had the door-block on it, but it tore loose when you yanked the door open. You took one stride out into the night air before strong arms wrapped around your midsection and flung you backwards, back into the motel room.

“Your powerful, little sister,” Dean chuckled darkly. “But not more powerful than me.”

You backed away, not even looking where you were going as you tried to escape your approaching brother. Your foot caught on the desk, and you went down hard, but you kept backing away, using your hands to scoot back. It didn’t do much, and when Dean reached you he gripped your shoulder and dragged you to your feet. He shoved you back down onto the couch, and turned and walked out the door without another word. You sat there in confusion until Dean returned—presumably from the Impala—with thick chains in his hands.

“This should hold you for a bit longer.” He smirked. “At least until I can get you so addicted to blood that you won’t leave.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you insisted.

Dean just laughed.

…

The pain was all consuming; you could think of nothing else. You were hungry, too, and thirsty, and your back ached from sleeping on the couch; but none of that mattered. All you could think about was blood.

You found yourself suddenly much more sympathetic towards Sam; sure, you’d felt bad for him—you knew his addiction had hurt like crazy—but you’d never felt it before. It was a new kind of pain in a world where you thought you’d experienced every kind.

What made it hurt worse was knowing that it was your big brother inflicting this pain, and not to get you un-hooked on demon blood; he was doing it to teach you some kind of sick lesson. Or maybe he thought it would get you even more addicted; if so, it was working.

After your little stunt trying to run away, Dean had chained you up to the wall, gagged you, and left with Crowley. That was yesterday; he hadn’t returned, even when night came and went. He knew the withdrawal pains would hit you like a truck; you figured that was the point.

What if it wasn’t a lesson? What if he was just sick of dragging you around, and he left you there? His words wouldn’t stop echoing in your head…

“You’ve always been the weak one…”

You’d always felt that way, but to hear Dean—even a black-eyed Dean—say it out loud hurt more than you wanted to admit.

And the fact that, even with demon blood in you, you couldn’t break out of the chains Dean put on you seemed to aid his description of you.

Were you really so pathetic that you were only useful when pumped full of demon blood?

“Hiya sweetheart, did you miss me?”

You’d been so lost that you didn’t even notice Dean enter the hotel room until he was right in front of you, unlocking your cuffs and pulling the gag down. When he was done, you felt your hands grip onto his arm of their own accord, and your eyes found his pleadingly. You wanted to pretend you didn’t know what you were pleading for—food, maybe? Water? But you and Dean knew all too well.

“You did miss me,” Dean said with a grin. “Is this what you want?” Dean held up a fast food bag. You hadn’t eaten in a day, you should have wanted it.

But you didn’t even look at it.

“No?” Dean put the bag down and picked up a water bottle. “How about this? Not this either?”

“Dean…” you mumbled, your eyes slipping down to your hands. “It…it hurts, Dean.”

“Aww.” Dean chuckled. You knew he was patronizing you, but you didn’t care. You just wanted him to make the pain go away.

“What about this?” Your eyes lifted to see Dean pulling out his flask. You saw a hand reach out for it, surprised when you realized it was your own. Dean wouldn’t let you touch it, though. He pulled it out of reach, shaking his head. “Don’t touch, sweetheart. That’s my job.”

You didn’t move as Dean opened the flask and lifted it to your face. You wished you could pretend that he was forcing you to drink the blood, but it wasn’t true anymore. He really had gotten you hooked.

The only question now was what would Sammy do when he found you?

…

The next few weeks fell into a regime. You tagged along while Dean and Crowley dragged you to town after town, bar after bar, motel after motel. After the first week, Dean stopped using the chains; he didn’t need them anymore. The resourceful, smart Winchester in the back of your mind knew that he was training you like a dog—when you listened, he let you drink from his flask; when you disobeyed, he let you suffer—but there was nothing you could do. You couldn’t resist the demon blood anymore, it hurt too much. And a part of you—the part desperate to please your big brother—didn’t want to. Dean thought you were useless without powers, and you didn’t have it in you to disagree anymore. The only reason Dean even wanted you around was that you had powers. Without that…

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Crowley approached you and Dean.

“We need to talk,” he said to Dean.

“So talk,” Dean said with a shrug. “She won’t bother us.” Dean waved offhandedly at you.

That’s all you were now; the sidekick, the tool, meant to stand aside and keep quiet.

“I don’t think you want her to hear this.” When Dean didn’t respond, Crowley sighed and continued. “Moose called.”

You stiffened, and Dean noticed.

“Go take a walk, N/N,” Dean said. You didn’t argue—you’d given up on that—but you did hesitate. Dean blinked, his eyes flashing black, and you flinched. “I said take a walk.”

You left without another word, but your brain was going a million miles a minute.

Sam called? Was he coming? Would he fix Dean…and you?

…

You returned to Dean when he waved you over.

Like an obedient little puppy, you thought disgustedly. You thought you’d given up on your pride and your dignity weeks ago, but the thought of Sam returning to see you like this brought it all rushing back.

“Here.” Dean pulled out his flask when you approached him. You stiffened and you had to force your head to turn away from your big brother. Dean scoffed, “One mention of Sammy and now you’re all high and mighty?” Dean’s fingers clenched around your jaw, and he turned your chin to face him. “Let me make this clear; drink now, or I won’t let you for the next two days.”

Your breath caught in your throat; the most he’d ever cut you off was for about a day, and that had been one of the most painful days of your life. You couldn’t do it, you knew you couldn’t.

Dean let go of your face, and you tilted your head up slightly, your lips parting just a little. It was all the assent that Dean needed.

“That’s what I thought,” he huffed, uncapping his flask.

What had you gotten yourself into?

…

You’d been getting better and better with your powers. Dean had had you practicing, mostly on random demons that Crowley let get too close to him.

The better you got, the more you began to think that Dean was right; you had been useless before, never able to help your brothers. Now you could help—now you had power.

Every time you got better with your powers, Dean would flash you a wide grin—it was cocky, not at all like his old proud smile—but it was good to see nonetheless. It felt good to do something for your big brother. It felt like you were finally repaying him for everything he had done for you.

“Pick a side!”

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Crowley’s outburst. You had followed Dean into Crowley’s demon meeting after Dean murdered one of Crowley’s clients. After weeks around Crowley, you tended to tune him out, but now he seemed heated, and Dean was tense beside you.

“Or what?” Dean asked before shoving a Crowley across the floor. Crowley got up in a huff, glancing around as if to see if his demons had noticed—of course they had.

“This—“ Crowley gestured between himself and Dean “—is over. You’re too unpredictable.”

“Ok,” Dean said, a nonchalant smile gracing his lips. “How’s this for unpredictable?” And suddenly he was looking at you, eyes boring into you as if you could read his mind. To your surprise, you could; or at least, you knew what he wanted. He wanted to piss Crowley off—he wanted you to exorcise all of Crowley’s goons. You’d only ever exorcised one at a time, which was a far cry from the five that surrounded you now.

Still, your big brother wanted something from you, and you were going to do your best.

You closed your eyes in concentration, holding your hand out as almost an anchor. You could feel the power pulsing through your blood, as if the demon blood was intertwining with your own. You heard screams of pain from the demons, but you blocked them out, hyper-focused. When the screaming stopped, you opened your eyes to see five empty vessels strewn across the floor. Your attention turned to Crowley, your hand still outstretched.

He staggered back a half step, but Dean reached out and pushed your hand down.

“Hey, easy—not him sweetheart.”

Your attention turned to Dean at his words, and there it was; that proud grin. Your lips twitched up even as you thought that you missed the way the old Dean would let you know he was proud of you. The way that he’d smile a real smile, and ruffle your hair, and say, “Good job, kid.”

Instead, this Dean smirked and pulled his flask out of his back pocket, holding it for you to drink from even as he turned his attention back to Crowley.

“You want unpredictable? You want this to be over? Good; I don’t need you, I never did.” Dean capped his flask and turned to go.

He didn’t even look back to see if you would follow; he knew you would.

…

You sat on a stool beside a piano in an empty bar, watching Dean play around with the keys. It had been hours since he’d let you have a drink, but every time you tapped his arm he just snapped at you to leave him be. You were doing just that—sitting quietly and watching your big brother—when the door to the bar opened.

“Sam!” You jumped up before you’d even fully registered that it was Sam who’d walked in the door. When you started towards him, Dean’s voice stopped you.

“No.”

It was just the one word, but it was enough. Your body acted almost if its own accord, stopping the instant the word was out of Dean’s mouth. You’d gotten used to obeying him without question lately, and it was a habit you weren’t so sure you could break.

“Commere,” Dean said, and again you listened, going to stand beside him as he stood from the piano bench.

Your eyes drifted to Sam, who was looking from Dean to you in utter confusion.

“Good.” Dean’s voice brought your attention back to him, and you saw him reaching into his back pocket for his flask. Your stomach dropped to your toes; that was why he wouldn’t let you drink earlier. He suspected that Sam was coming, and he wanted you to be desperate enough to drink in front of him. Your heart caught in your throat as you stared up at Dean, as if he could somehow undo what he’d already done. He just smirked at you as he uncapped the flask and held it up.

Your body was screaming for it—you’d been achy, pain stiffening your muscles for at least an hour—you needed it. Keeping your eyes downcast so that you didn’t have to see Sam’s face, you took a half step closer to Dean and let him tilt the contents of the flask into your mouth.

“What are you doing?” Sam lurched forward, recognizing the substance immediately. “Dean, you can’t! Y/N, stop!”

“Aww, it’s not her fault, Sammy,” Dean chuckled as he pulled the flask away and capped it. “She was never gonna be strong enough to stop me.”

You ducked your head in shame even as your nerves were screaming for more blood. You couldn’t bear to even look in Sam’s direction.

“Dean, what did you do?” Sam demanded, panic lacing his tone.

“Made her useful!” Dean insisted, still grinning like this was all a great joke. “You should see her now, Sammy. She exorcised five demons all at once today, I bet she’s pretty tired out.”

Despite yourself, your lips twitched up in a small smile at Dean’s words. He was bragging on you to Sam—it was nice to hear.

“Useful?” Sam’s scoff brought the shame back. “Dean, she’s not an object! She’s not some kind of tool for you to use! She’s our sister!”

“So what? She was useless before, a weak and pathetic tag-along. I finally brought some purpose to her life.”

You bit down hard on your lip to keep it from quivering. You kept your gaze down so you didn’t have to see either of your brothers.

“Dean, stop it!” Sam yelled.

“Fine.” Dean shrugged. “You want me to stop? Try and bring her back. She won’t go, I’ve got her hooked more than you ever were.”

Dean stepped back, watching from the other side of the piano while Sam approached you. You kept your eyes on your shoes even as you heard Sam approaching.

“Honey, hey, look at me.” Sam came to a stop mere inches from you. Your breaths picked up as tears blurred your vision, but you forced yourself to blink them back and look up at your brother. The hate that you were expecting wasn’t there, neither was the disgust or the anger. Instead, Sam’s eyes were gentle; understanding. “I can help you. You don’t have to keep doing this.”

“But…” Dean’s words swam around in your head, and they were all you could think of. “But without this I’m useless. I wanna be useful. I’m useful, Sammy, I’m powerful!”

Sam’s gaze never wavered.

“But are you happy?”

You stopped. You’d been so worried about being useful to Dean, that you hadn’t even thought about…

Your head shook slowly from side to side, the tears returning. Sam’s gaze softened even more.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Sam,” you whimpered, finally letting the tears fall. “I-I didn’t mean to—but I can’t st-stop.” You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed, and you flinched when you felt Sam’s hand on your shoulder.

“Shh, hey…” Sam pulled you into his embrace, and you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head as he rubbed your back. “Honey it’s ok. We can fix this, I just gotta take you home.”

“She’s not gonna leave me, Sammy,” Dean mocked. “I’ve got her hooked.”

“You’re coming too,” Sam directed at him. “I didn’t just come for her. We can cure demons, Dean.”

“Did you even stop to think that if I wanted to be cured, I wouldn’t have left? And I certainly wouldn’t have gotten our little sister addicted to demon blood just to cut off her supply.” Dean jeered, laughing. “I mean, what kind of brother would do that?”

“Enough, Dean! I’m bringing you back whether you want to come or not.” Sam reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pair of demon cuffs.

“Do you really think those will hold me?” Dean scoffed.

“We’re about to find out,” Sam sighed.

A hiss filled the air, followed by smoke that separated both of your brothers from your sight.

“Sam! Dean!” Your cries were followed by a fit of coughing when you breathed in the gas. A hand on your shoulder turned your attention to Dean, who was trying to drag you towards the door.

“Sammy,” you protested, searching through the gas for your brother.

“He’s fine,” Dean growled, pulling harder. “Now come on.”

“No!” You yanked your arm from Dean’s grasp. He didn’t try to grab you again; he didn’t think he had to.

“Y/N, come. That’s an order.”

You gritted your teeth, shoving down the pain in your body that begged you to listen to Dean.

“Screw your orders.”

Dean’s eyes flashed black as he advanced on you.

“You little—“

You didn’t hesitate—you lifted your hands and used the telekinesis that Dean had given you to fling him across the room. You turned your back, not even bothering to see where he landed.

…

You found Sam easily, and the two of you made it out of the building after Dean. The minute Sam stepped foot out the door, a man came out of nowhere and knocked him out.

“Sam!” You knelt next to your big brother, glancing in fear at the man who’d hit him. He hesitated when he saw you were just a kid.

“Stay out of my way, or you’re next,” he warned before turning to face Dean. You remembered Dean mentioning that a man was after him; you had no doubt that Dean would win this fight, so you turned your attention to waking Sam up—he was your only chance at bringing Dean home.

“Sammy, come on,” you urged. He only stirred once Dean and the other man were finished their fight—Dean won, but he didn’t kill the other man, to your surprise.

“Just stay here,” Sam instructed, shaking off his headache as he stood, demon cuffs held with his injured arm—you wondered suddenly how he’d been hurt—and holy water in the other hand.

You stayed back as Sam approached Dean from behind. It was over in mere seconds—Dean, distracted by the holy water, was unable to fight off the cuffs that Sam slapped on him.

“Dean, stop! It’s over.”

…

You got into the passenger’s seat after Sam ushered Dean into the back. Sam was outside, passing off the First Blade to Crowley.

“You picked the wrong side,” Dean said, and the sound of his voice made you flinch.

“Says the one in the handcuffs,” you shot back, but your voice was much too shaky for Dean to take seriously.

“Oh, this won’t last,” Dean said, lifting his hands. “And once these come off, you’re going to regret using those powers on me.”

…

You breathed easier when Sam returned to the Impala, and the three of you were off. Sam and Dean were arguing about Dean’s fight with that man, Cole. Sam was convinced that because Dean let him live, there was still some good in him.

“Letting him live was the worst thing I could’ve done to him,” Dean chuckled. “And that’s nothing compared to what I’m going to you.” Sam swallowed nervously, but Dean continued. “Or to our little sister.” You nearly jumped out of your seat when Dean kicked it.

“Stop it,” Sam demanded. “She…she didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, she picked her side,” Dean insisted. “And she picked wrong.”

…

You were shaking by the time the Impala reached the bunker. Sam kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, recognizing the symptoms; you needed more blood.

“Stay here,” he instructed as he stepped out to get Dean. “I’m gonna get him settled downstairs and I’ll come back for you.”

Sure enough, a few minutes later Sam returned and led you to your room.

“You know what I have to do, right?” He asked gently. You nodded.

“Tie me down and lock me up, right?”

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. “I don’t want to, but—“

“But there’s a demon in the bunker, and I’m about to go through extreme withdrawals,” you finished. “I-I know Sam. It’s not your fault.” Your gaze was glued to your fidgeting hands.

“Hey, look at me.” When you met his gaze, Sam continued. “It’s not your fault either. I know you didn’t want it.”

“I started to.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Af-after a while, I started to want it. The power…all of it.”

“It’s ok.” Sam pulled you close, and his embrace made you feel more at home than you had in weeks. “I know how that feels, but we’re gonna fix it. I’m gonna be right here.”

When he pulled away, you took a deep breath.

“I’m ready.”

…

You were wrong. Dead wrong, and so was Sam. Sam was killing you, you were sure of it.

Of course, that was the withdrawal talking, but you were too far deep in your pain to know that. All you knew was that you’d never hurt this much in your life, and the way to make the pain go away was right downstairs, but Sam wouldn’t let you near it.

“I need Dean,” you cried for the thousandth time. “Sammy, please!” You were in too much pain to even notice that Sam wasn’t there, and he hadn’t been in to check on you in a while. In fact, you were so distracted that you didn’t even notice the door opening, and the very person you were begging for walking in.

“I told you you picked the wrong side,” Dean chuckled, his voice grabbing your attention.

“Dean,” you whimpered, in too much pain to be scared or curious that he’d gotten out. “Dean, please.”

“You know—“ Dean sighed as he began to undo the straps holding your legs. “You talk too much.” Once both your legs were free, Dean made his way near your head. You swallowed hard as Dean picked up a knife that you’d left on your dresser. “So I think I’ve found the perfect punishment for you. I mean, you did use your powers on me. Did you think I was just going to forget that?”

“P-punishment?” You asked nervously.

“Yeah,” Dean glared down at you, his eyes flashing black. “First, I’m gonna cut off your tongue. Then, I’m gonna give you so much blood, that you won’t be able to think straight. Then you’re gonna help me kill Sammy, then Crowley. And if you ever disobey me again, I’ll slit your throat.” Dean grinned. “How’s that for a little brotherly love?”

Dean’s knife was inching closer to your mouth, his other hand gripping your face to keep you still, when the lights went out. Dean released you, and a tense silence filled the bunker for a moment or two before the emergency lights clicked on, red light casting an eery glow throughout your room.

“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” Dean said to you. “Now that I know where Sammy is, you can wait; after all, you’re not going anywhere.”

All you could do was watch as Dean turned and walked out, intent on killing your brother.

…

You were struggling against the restraints to no avail when Sam came bursting into the room.

“Did he hurt you?” Sam demanded, alarmed when you suddenly burst into tears.

“I-I thought he was gonna kill you,” you cried.

“It’s ok, I’m ok,” Sam assured you as he started to undo you restraints.

“Don’t!” You insisted. “I’m…I don’t think I’m clean yet.”

Sam halted his movements, his eyes trained on your face.

“He didn’t hurt you?” Sam asked.

“He didn’t get the chance.” You sniffled. “W…where is he?”

“Chained up again,” Sam sighed. “Cas is watching him. I think…I think maybe he’s almost human now.”

“Go to him,” you insisted. “I’ll be ok here until I’m clean, really.” Somehow, Dean’s threats had strengthened your resolve to stay away from demon blood. “Go bring our Dean back.”

…

“I want to see her.”

Sam was adamant. “You can’t, not yet.”

Dean sighed, rubbing his newly-freed hands over his face.

“Why not?”

Before Sam could answer, a cry of pain could be heard from your room. Sam cringed.

“She…she’s still in detox. She could go nuts if she sees you, even though you’re not a demon anymore. We can’t take that chance.”

Dean didn’t argue; he knew Sam was right. Still, the next two days were complete torture as he was forced to stay away from you, listening to your pleas for him. Every time you called out his name was a reminder that it was Dean’s fault that you were hurting.

“I’m sorry,” he found himself whispering over and over under his breath every time you cried out; he was desperate to tell you in person.

After those awful two days, the screaming stopped. Dean was already halfway to your room when he was stopped by Sam.

“She’s ok,” Sam insisted. “I think she’s clean. I just took her restraints off.”

“Ok,” Dean said simply, trying to move past Sam and toward your door. Sam moved in front of him.

“She’s sleeping. She needs it.”

Dean deflated, discouraged.

“What is this, Sam? Are you really trying to help her, or do you just not trust me?” He knew he was being unfair, but he had to know.

“It’s not about you,” Sam assured him, clearly pushing away his hurt at Dean’s implication. “She needs rest. Besides, I…I don’t know how she’ll react to seeing you again, and I don’t want to push her faster than I need to.”

Dean was silent for a long moment, before finally asking the question that had been nagging at him for days.

“Do you think she hates me?”

Sam looked pained, as if he had expected the question.

“Right now I…I almost wish she did,” Sam said. “Because I think she hates herself more than anything.”

…

You’d been awake for about twenty minutes, but you hadn’t moved. At least, your body hadn’t moved; your mind was going at a breakneck speed. You remembered briefly that Sam had said Dean was cured, but you couldn’t be sure if you’d imagined it in your withdrawal fog. You were pretty sure that most of yesterday had been a hallucination. Sam had insisted that he wouldn’t let Dean in, yet there he had been, jeering at you, saying again and again that the second you were clean, you’d be useless again.

You knew it wasn’t real, it couldn’t be. But the hallucination had been right anyway.

The sound of the door opening had your head turning, but your mind still hadn’t left its dark corner.

“Hey,” Sam greeted, and even though the door was only open a little, you could see Dean standing behind him. That only lasted for a moment before Sam squeezed himself into your room and shut the door behind him. “How are you?”

“He doesn’t want to see me?” Your eyes remained glued to the door where Dean had been standing, even as you sat up.

“What?” Sam frowned. “Of course he does, I just…I wanted to check with you first. Are you gonna be ok to see him?”

You nodded. “If…” you were suddenly nervous at the thought of seeing Dean after everything. “If he wants to.”

“Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?”

Shame bubbled up in you as you thought about the past few weeks, and you ducked your head, unwilling to answer Sam’s question. He didn’t push it; instead, he turned to go, leaving the door open so that Dean could take his place.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted gently, and you heard rather than felt your breath pick up at the sound of his voice. You kept your eyes downcast.

What did Dean think of you? You remembered how disappointed and angry he had been with Sam when Sam had gotten hooked on demon blood. Would Dean hate you now? Would he finally see you as the burden you’d always been, now that you didn’t have powers anymore?

“Sweetheart, would you look at me?” When your eyes met his, you saw not anger or disappointment, but sadness. That was too much for you. The tears came suddenly and soundlessly. “Oh, kiddo…” Dean sighed, reaching his hands out to comfort you. However, you’d spent too much time with the rough, angry demon Dean to see comfort in his hands. When you flinched back, Dean stopped immediately, returning his hands to his sides. “I’m sorry, I…” Dean’s voice cracked. “I didn’t come here to scare you, I just wanted to apologize. I know that doesn’t make up for what I did, but…but I wanted you to know.”

You looked up suddenly, not surprised but doubtful. You’d expected an apology from Dean, but you hadn’t expected it to sound quite so sincere; you’d expected underlying disappointment at least.

“You…” you swallowed. “You’re not upset with me?”

“With you?” Dean was confused. “Why would I be upset with you?”

You ducked your head as the tears returned.

“I-I was weak,” you choked out. “I’m still weak.”

“Hey, hey.” Dean tilted your chin up with his fingers, his hands as gentle as could be on your skin. “None of this—not one bit—was your fault. I did this to you, and I don’t blame you, not for a second. Understand?”

You were shaking your head.

“I-I should’ve—“

“There was nothing you coulda done to stop me,” Dean said, self-loathing lacing his every word. “And I know how impossible it is to stop on your own after you’ve started, I’d never blame you for getting addicted.”

You stayed silent as you processed his words. Once you had, you felt the need to speak again.

“I don’t blame you either,” you insisted. “You weren’t the same—demon you. It wasn’t anything like you, it wasn’t your fault.”

Dean looked dubious, but he also didn’t bother to argue. Comfortable silence reigned for several minutes before he spoke again.

“How do you feel?”

“Starving,” you answered honestly, to which Dean smiled.

“You wanna take a little trip? You and me, I’ll take you to get some food.”

The idea of Dean bundling you into the Impala and driving off—without Sam nonetheless—had terror gripping your heart, accelerating its pace. You didn’t blame Dean for what he’d done, but the memories were still all too fresh.

“Or,” Dean countered, instantly noting your panicked expression. “Or I could go and get something to bring back, and you, me, and Sammy could have a movie night?”

You nodded—that sounded perfect. Dean was just turning to go when you stopped him.

“Dean? Does…is there any part of you that wishes I’d stayed that way?”

“What way?” Dean’s brows drew together, whether in concern or confusion you couldn’t tell. “You mean, addicted to demon blood?”

“I just mean…” you struggled to force the words out. “I mean…useful.”

Deans face fell, and you regretted asking.

“What?”

“I-I mean, I don’t really do anything around here. At least then, I—“

“Stop.” You weren’t sure if it was the seriousness of his tone, or the fact that you’d spent the last few weeks obeying his every word, but you shut up immediately when Dean spoke. “I want you to listen to me very carefully,” Dean said slowly and deliberately, and again you stayed obediently silent. “Nothing about what I did to you was good, ok? And you are not useless. Actually,” Dean waved his hand in front of his face dismissively. “Forget about use. Sam was right, you’re not some tool, ok? You’re important to us, and not because of what you can do. But even if it was about that, you do so much for us. You’ve been with me and Sammy through everything, and that matters way more than you moving stuff with your mind, ok?”

Despite the tears that were still falling, you felt a smile tug at your lips.

“Ok, Dean.”

“Ok,” Dean said with a firm nod. “Go find Sam, and I’ll head out for food.”

You stood almost mechanically and headed for the door without a word. Dean recognized your stance with a silent horror.

“Hey,” Dean’s voice was shaky as he reached out and grabbed your hand. “That…it wasn’t an order, ok? I’m not making you do anything, I—“

“I know,” you interrupted, understanding his horror. “It’s just…habit, I-I guess. Shut up and obey, you know?” You wished you hadn’t added that last part when you saw Dean stiffen ever so slightly, swallowing hard.

“I’m so—“

“Don’t apologize again,” you pleaded. “I forgive you, ok? I-I guess I just need to unlearn some things.”

Dean nodded, but you could tell he was still beating himself up inside. You took two strides and reached him, pulling him into an embrace. His arms enveloped you entirely, and you realized that you’d forgotten how much you missed him.

“Tell me if I can help with that, ok?” He said.

“Ok,” you promised. “Now go get me some food, I’m starving.”

Dean’s chest rumbled next to your ear as he chuckled.

“Yes ma’am.”

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hanaridulsetcheese · 20 days ago

Text

the boy at the library ~ sam winchester

In a small town somewhere in America, you were at the local library completing your weekly shift. Sam Winchester was busy trying to do research on a case he and his brother were trying to crack but when he couldn't find a book he was looking for he decided to ask for help.

"Excuse me," he said awkwardly, towering over you. "Do you know where I can find a book on demonology? It's for research purposes." he awkwardly smiles.

You looked at the tall boy standing at the front of the desk, he seemed to be about your age, maybe a year or two older. Usually, you were not one to find attraction to people immediately but this boy was entirely captivating.

His brown hair was slightly tousled and his shirt was untucked and messy. He had such a cute college boy look to him but his eyes told a different story, his eyes looked as if he had seen through the life of ten men at once.

"Yes, it's in this aisle, what's the book name I'll help you look? " you walk out to him and lead him down the array of aisles.

Sam was taken aback for a moment, his heart skipped a few beats as you agreed to help. He was used to having people be instantly intimidated by his tall built physique and cold demeanour and yet, you seemed different.

"Great," he said, clearing his throat and trying to remain cool. "The book is called 'Tales of Demonic Encounters.' It was written by a Reverend named Thomas Harries. Ever heard of it?"

"As a matter of fact I have. " you immediately lead him down the stream of books in the aisle and pick out the book he wanted. It was tucked amongst the mass of other religious and mythology series the library had in stock.

The book you pull out was on a higher shelf but you were still able to reach it. It was a thick leather bound book with a collection of dust on it. Sam stands directly behind you and places a large hand atop of yours to help you remove the book. A slight blush flushes a little across your cheeks at the contact.

Sam tries his best to stay calm as you retrieve the book. Your scent fills his nostrils, a mixture of sweet roses and something distinctly endearing.

He feels your hand beneath his, smaller and more delicate than his own. His heart races as his fingers brush against your skin, the contact sending a spark through his entire body. He releases your hand before taking the book from you, your fingers lingering on each other for a few more seconds than necessary.

"Thanks," he says, looking at the book in his hands before looking back to you. "You're a lifesaver."

"Say, what's a boy like you doing studying about demons? " you lean against the shelves and cross your arms against your chest.

You eye Sam up and down and notice a slight pink tinge on his cheeks similar to that of yours. "You seem like a more law type of guy- " you raise an eyebrow waiting for his name.

Sam feels a wave of nervousness wash over him as you ask the question. He knew he couldn't give you a straightforward answer, not without raising suspicion. He had to think fast. "Oh, you know," he says, forcing a convincing smile. "Just a hobby of mine. I'm interested in mythology and such. “

He glances down at your crossed arms, his eyes lingering on your figure for a moment before he looks back at your face. "The name's Sam Winchester. " he says, his voice a little quieter now.

"Sam, cute. " you stick a hand out at him, "Y/N. " you say, giving him a small smile. Sam takes your hand in his own, his grip firm but gentle.

"Y/N. " he repeats, savouring the way your name rolls off of his tongue. "That's a beautiful name. Suits you. " he lingers for a moment, not wanting to let go of your hand just yet.

"So, a demon hobby, huh? I dabble a little in mythology as well. " you shrugged, peeking at the stack of notes he had in his hand.

Sam notices you glancing at the notes. They were mostly sketches of demonic symbols, and the occasional drawing of a grotesque demon head. He realises that he has to be careful, he couldn't let you see the truth.

"Oh, yeah," he says, casually hiding the notes behind his back. "It's a fascinating subject, you know? Not for everyone, I suppose. But I find it intriguing."

"No, I understand. People think I'm crazy for wanting to major in mythology and dark arts. They look at me like I'm going to do some demonic thing to them. " you laugh slightly, gesturing to yourself, clad in a plain white shirt with a red flannel over it and some jeans. "Do I look demonic, Sam? "

This was said as a joke but you noticed something changed in Sam's demeanour. He tried to remain calm, but your mention of demonic things puts him on edge. He knows that he has to play his cards right.

"Demonic? No, not at all," he responds, forcing a smirk. "Quite the opposite, actually. You look kind and friendly." He glances down at your outfit, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Besides, I think you'd make a terrible demon," he adds, his tone lighthearted.

"A terrible demon? Why'd you reckon? " you place your hands into your back pocket and look into his eyes. They were this pretty blue colour that you couldn't help but get sucked into. You notice him also observing you in the same way.

"Well," Sam says, his gaze still fixed on yours. "Demons are cunning and manipulative. They prey on people's weaknesses and desires. But you seem different. More authentic, and honest." he takes a step closer to you, his tall frame towering over you. "It's refreshing, in a way. Almost, entangling... alluring."

"Oh. " you trail of feeling a little spark of excitement in your stomach as he steps closer. His smell wafts through your nose, very cinnamon centred with a hint of oak. He towered over you, your face barely peeking over his shoulder.

Sam notices how much smaller you were than him. It was endearing, in a way. It made him feel protective, wanting to keep you safe. He leaned down closer to you, almost unconsciously. The air between you grew heavy with tension.

"Honesty is important," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I think demons can be a tad dishonest every now and then."

"You seem to speak from personal experience? " you tilt your head, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Sam freezes, realising that he said too much. He mentally scolds himself, cursing his slip-up. He steps back, creating a small distance between you. He tries to keep his face neutral as he laughs it off.

"No, not really," he said quickly, forcing a smile. "I just have a lot of experience talking to people, that's all." He glances down at the book he borrowed, then back up at you.

"Oh I understand Sam. " you peek out of the aisle to make sure no one saw you two.

"Sit. " you take a seat on the floor and gesture to Sam to sit beside you. He complies, the space just barely enough for his long legs. Sam feels a mixture of nerves and curiosity as he sits down next to you, his knee barely brushing against your leg, sending a small shiver down his spine.

Taking the book from his hands and laying it between you so you both could see, "What are you looking for in here? "

He glances down at the book and ponders your question. He couldn't tell you the truth, not about demons anyway. He had to come up with something plausible. "Just doing research," he says eventually. "Studying up on some demonic lore, nothing too fascinating."

"Come one Sammy, give me more than that. Maybe I can help. I do study these types of things. " you lightly bump his shoulder, giving him a smile.

He looks at you, seeing the genuine offer to help. He knew he should keep you at arm's length, keep you safe. But he couldn't resist your smile, your kind eyes. "Okay, fine," he relents. "Honestly, I'm trying to find out more about demons and what they're capable of."

"Any specific type you're looking for? From my knowledge of the type of mythology I study there can be different types. " you continue to explain your studies to him. There was a warm feeling in you as you noticed him listening intently to you, his eyes never leaving your face. You were passionate about the subject, and your excitement about it was contagious.

He felt his heart beat faster as you spoke, hanging on to every word. It was endearing to see you so animated and knowledgeable. "Different types of demons? I never realised," he said, despite already knowing what you're saying. "I thought they were all the same, just evil creatures of the night."

"Well they are, but you see they all have different purposes. Some make deals with humans, you know selling your soul and stuff - "

Sam's eyes widen as you mention demons making deals, a sudden jolt of adrenaline shooting through him. He tries to keep his composure, praying that his reaction didn't give anything away.

"Deals?" he asks, as casually as possible. "Like, making deals for people's souls? That kind of thing?"

"There's this myth that if you sell your soul to a crossroads demon, they kill you off after ten years. " you whisper.

Sam's heart races at the mention of crossroads demons. He knew all too well the truth about them. "Crossroads demons," he says, his voice low. "They're tricky bastards, that's for sure. Do you believe that? The ten year deal, I mean."

"Well, it's a myth right? " you laugh but then notice the serious look on Sam's face. "Can I be honest with you Sam? "

Sam glances down at you, his face serious but also curious. He doesn't know what to expect from the question, but nods at you to continue. "What is it? "

"I do believe that there's something out there, like the supernatural. Ever since I was a kid I felt like that. I thought by studying about it in university, it would help me understand. "

Sam looks at you in disbelief, not knowing what to make of your confession. He had never met someone so open about this kind of thing. To be so willing to believe in the supernatural without much evidence was...refreshing.

He leaned in closer as you spoke, hanging on your every word. "You've always felt that way?" he asks. "Since you were a kid? You've never wondered if perhaps it's just your imagination?"

"I think it was maybe just my imagination but hey, it's still interesting to learn about I guess. "

Sam smiled at your response, finding your unwavering belief in the unknown fascinating. Your willingness to explore this world of shadows and demons without fear was admirable.

"Interesting is one word for it," he says, his tone slightly humorous. "Most people run for the hills at the mention of anything supernatural."

"True. " you agree, laying your head against the book shelf behind. "What got you interested? "

Sam leans into the shelf as well, his body just barely touching yours. He tries to keep a level head, but it's becoming increasingly difficult.

He thinks for a moment, before replying. "Let's just say interest runs in the family. " he says. "There's so much out there in the shadows that people don't understand. It's like a mystery waiting to be unravelled."

"A mystery waiting to be unravelled. " you are unaware of the reality of his words. Sam chuckles as he watches you ponder.

"What's funny? " you lift your head to look at him only to find him smiling at you.

Sam shakes his head, his smile growing wider. "It's nothing, just a thought," he replies, his eyes never leaving yours. He can't help but stare at you, admiring the innocence in your gaze. It was refreshing to see someone so curious and open-minded, someone who wasn't aware of the dark secret he carried.

"Share your thoughts with the class, Sam. " you place your hand on his.

Sam's heart skids in his chest as you place your hand on his. The feeling of your skin against his sends electricity coursing through his body. "Well - " he starts, his voice slightly more strained than usual. "It's just that I find it amusing that you're so interested in the supernatural, and yet you have no idea how close to the truth you actually are."

"The truth? What? Some demon is coming to get me? " you joke.

Sam lets out a strained laugh, shaking his head. "No, no," he says. "Just...you've got a good eye. You're looking in the right places. You never know what you might find."

The irony is not lost on him. Here he was, a professional demon hunter, sitting with a girl who was oblivious to the monsters that lurk in the shadows.

"And why would I want to find it? Look I may be interested in these things but hey if a demon showed up on my doorstep I'd shit myself. "

Sam laughs heartily at your comment. He imagines your reaction. "Well, I can't blame you there," he says, still chuckling. "Seeing a demon up close and personal is no joke. Most people would have a heart attack on the spot."

You noticed the honesty in his words and began to wonder, "Yeah, it must be scary. "

Sam nods at your response, his expression becoming a little more serious. "Yeah, it is," he says, his voice quieter now. "Demons are vicious creatures, dangerous and unpredictable. They'll stop at nothing to...well, let's just say they're not here to be your friend."

"Sam are you alright? " You turn fully towards him and take a hold of his hand. There is a tired look in his eyes that grows more prominent now in the dull light of the library.

Sam's hand instinctively holds onto yours, his grip firm but gentle. He looks down at your intertwined hands, letting out a soft sigh. "I'm just tired," he confesses, his voice weary. "I haven't had a good night's sleep in ages. It's like I can't escape..."

He catches himself, realising he's said too much. He quickly tries to put on a smile, trying to hide his exhaustion.

You couldn't help but caress his cheek, feeling slightly bad for the boy in front of you. He seemed like a genuine person who has been through a lot.

"I know how that feels, I have ADHD and sometimes it doesn't let me sleep at night. " you say, trying to be vulnerable towards him to show him that you were genuine.

Sam leans into your touch, the feeling of your hand against his cheek soothing. He glances at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and comfort.

"You have ADHD? I never would've guessed." he smiles at your attempt to relate to him, appreciating the gesture more than you could know.

"Was it all the fidgeting or the non-stop talking? " you laugh a little and so does he, a dimple popped out on his cheek that makes you look at him fondly.

"Maybe a combination of both," he says. "You're surprisingly bouncy and talkative. It's cute."

"Thanks. " you shrugged, "Most think I'm annoying. "

Sam looks at you, a look of disbelief on his face. "Annoying? Those people must be idiots." He shakes his head, still smiling at you. "You're not annoying. Far from it."

"You're nice Sam. " you brush your hands through his hair before your eyes land on the clock on the wall. "I've got to get back to my shift. "

Sam helps you gather up the notes he had borrowed, feeling a pang of disappointment as you prepare to leave. "Okay, yeah, of course," he says, still a little reluctant to see you go.

He gazes down at you, his eyes lingering for a moment. "Before you go," he says suddenly, a flicker of courage sparking inside of him. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it? "

Sam's heart thumps loudly in his chest, his mind suddenly racing. He knew he was taking a risk here, but he had to ask.

"I was wondering if I could have your number," he says, his voice slightly shaky. "Just in case I need some more myth and lore advice sometime."

"Oh, yeah sure. " you smiled and pulled out a pen from a stack of the notes he had and wrote down your number on the top page of the stack before noticing a symbol he had scribbled down on it.

"I know this symbol. " you gently pull out the page and examine it closely. Sam looks surprised at the fact that you had recognised it.

"You know that symbol? " he asks, his tone a mixture of disbelief and caution.

"Hades. " you say, nodding your head. "Ancient Greek, I'm talking like really ancient. This was used as a summoning tool to get one of Hades' men to show up. People who had the means to call upon him used this to get a one way ticket to the underworld, kinda like skipping the whole dead line and passing all those judgement people. "

"That's what this is? A summoning tool? " he glanced back down at the paper. "How did you get that so fast? "

"I study this Sam, kind of my speciality. " you say.

Eyes widen as you easily identify each symbol, one after the other. Sam can't help but feel a pang of worry mixed with fascination. Were you simply a mythology enthusiast, or was there something more to your vast knowledge?

"Okay, so all these symbols have something to do with summoning one one Hades’ men, Thanatos, but there's a piece missing. "

Sam's mind races as he takes in your words. He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool. "What piece is missing? " he inquires, keeping his voice steady.

"I'm assuming that's what you're looking for? The missing piece? You're not going to find it in this book then. " you say.

"Not in this book, why's that? “ he asks.

"This book is filled with Christian lore. You're not going to find anything here. You need ancient Greek lore. "

He sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Damn," he mutters. "Ancient Greek lore, huh? Any idea where I might find something like that? “

"Follow me mister, I do still work here after all. " you walk past the book aisles to the other side of the library where the ancient Greek and Roman books were situated. "Here they are. "

Sam’s mind was still racing from your earlier revelation. He takes in the unfamiliar titles surrounding him as you stop in front of a shelf filled with ancient Greek and Roman texts.

"I hope you can read ancient Greek. " you laugh. "I'll leave you to it though, my supervisor will kick my ass if she doesn't find me at the front desk. Let me know when you're done though. "

Sam chuckles at your joke and gives a nod as you prepare to leave. He watches you go, appreciating the help you've given him so far. "Hey, wait," he calls out suddenly, a thought crossing his mind.

You stop in your tracks and turn back to him, "Yes? "

Sam hesitates for a moment, wondering if he should ask his question. But then he decides to just go for it. "Since you're so knowledgeable about all this lore, can I ask you one more thing? " he inquires, his eyes searching yours for a response.

"Fire away. "

Sam chews on his lower lip as he considers how to phrase his question. He didn't want to sound crazy, but he had to ask. "Alright," he begins, his voice slightly shaky. "Hypothetically, if someone were to want to call upon Thanatos, how would they do it? “

"Summon Thanatos, seriously? " you wanted to laugh but then noticed the serious expression on Sam’s face. You cleared your throat and grabbed the pile of notes from his hand and assembled them onto the table.

It all formed pieces of a really weird puzzle and only the first piece was missing. "There you go, until you find the missing piece you can't do anything though. Whatever you have to do, it needs to be done in this order. "

Sam watched intently as you arranged the notes into a makeshift puzzle. He was impressed with your ability to piece together seemingly unrelated information, forming a clearer picture. He reaches out to the table, his fingers brushing across the notes. "And if I find the missing piece? " he asks, a hint of anxiousness in his voice.

"You call upon Thanatos, I presume. " you confirm. "That's what these symbols are. All demons are trapped in hell which is the underworld for the ancient Greeks. Get the right piece and I guess it's like opening a door for them. "

Sam nods slowly, absorbing your words.

"I'm assuming this isn't some kind of project. " you look at Sam with a serious and concerned expression laced on your face.

Sam's eyes meet yours, and he hesitates for a moment. He could feel your concern, and it tugged at him. He knew he shouldn't keep you in the dark, that you deserved an explanation, but before he can form a response, he's interrupted by a ringing sound from his pocket. He pulls out his phone and glances at the screen, his expression hardening.

Sam answers the call and turns away from you, his voice barely above a whisper as he speaks into the phone "What do you have, Dean? "

He listens for a few moments, his free hand running through his hair in a frustrated gesture. He glances over at you momentarily, making sure you weren't listening. After a brief moment Sam gets off the phone, his voice now hasty and laced with worry.

"I need to go," he says abruptly, his tone urgent. "Something's come up."

"Oh alright, well don't forget your stuff. " you help him gather the pages again and watch him stuff it into his bag.

Sam nods in thanks, his mind clearly elsewhere. He slings the bag over his shoulder and turns to look at you. "Sorry to cut this short," he apologises, his voice tinged with regret. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

"Don't worry about it, whatever that was sounded important. " you smile and watch as he walks away fast from the library. You look out the window and watch him get into a black car with another guy as they drive away in a hurry leaving you to your shift.

~~~

"Find anything? " Dean asks Sam as they speed through the road.

Sam shakes his head, his mind still on the conversation with you. He was frustrated that he didn't have the answer yet. "Not yet," he replies, his voice tight. "But there was this girl at the library, she was surprisingly familiar with the symbols. “

"A girl huh? She's pretty? " Dean smirks at Sam before returning his eyes to the road.

Sam scoffs and rolls his eyes at Dean. Trust him to focus on that aspect.

"She's...interesting," Sam replies, trying to downplay it. "She knew a lot about the symbols, more than most people. “

"You think she's a demon? " Dean asked seriously.

Sam paused for a moment, considering the possibility. While it seemed far-fetched, it wasn't completely outside the realm of possibility. "No," he finally answers, shaking his head. "She seemed normal. Human."

"What'd she give you? Anything useful that would explain all these walking corpses around town? "

Sam reaches into his bag and pulls out the stack of pages filled with scribbled notes and symbols. "She was able to identify these," he says, shuffling through the pile. "And she explained what they were but we're still missing a piece. It’s like a puzzle. "

"Man, I hate puzzles. " Dean complained.

Sam nods in agreement, especially when your life, and other people's lives, depended on them. "Yeah, tell me about it," he mutters, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. "But we have to figure it out. People are dying, Dean. We have to stop it. "

"Yeah I know. She say anything about the missing piece? Where do we find it? “

Sam shakes his head, sighing in frustration. "No, but she did say something about ancient Greek and Roman lore. So we might need to dig through some of Bobby’s old history books."

"Oh yay, love me the Olympics. " Dean rolled his eyes and pulled up to the motel they were staying at. They both rush into the room and shut the doors and windows immediately.

Sam sits down at the small desk, opening the laptop and immediately launching an online search for information on the mythology. He types in keywords related to their case and scans through page after page of search results, hoping to find something useful.

Dean cracks open a beer and begins looking through Bobby's old journals trying to find something useful to them. After about two and a half hours of searching they came up with nothing. "Damn it man. You're saying this library chick knew this stuff immediately? "

Sam shuts the laptop in frustration, rubbing a hand over his tired face. They had been at it for hours and still had nothing. "Yeah," he confirms. "She seemed to recognize the symbols right away, and knew what they were used for. It's like none of this was a surprise to her. "

"Sounds fishy man, are you sure she was human? " Dean takes a swig of his second beer.

Sam sighs and shrugs, his mind still lingering on your knowledge of the symbols. It was impressive, but it did raise a few questions. "I don't know," he admits, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"You said she studied these things? Like as a degree? "

Sam nods, recalling what you had told him at the library. "Yeah, she said she was interested in these things, and she had studied them extensively. "

"Look, I know you're developing some sort of attachment to this girl but we might need her help, Sammy. " Dean looks at his brother, Sam's face was conflicted. He too didn't want to drag an innocent girl into this.

Sam frowns,he knew Dean was right, but the thought of putting you in danger didn't sit well with him. "I don't want to put anyone in harm's way," he argues, his voice a mix of concern and determination. "But you're right. We need her help, she's the only lead we have right now."

Sam hesitates for a moment, but he finally pulls out his phone and dials your number and waits anxiously for you to pick up.

You were about to close up the library when your phone rang all of a sudden. Fishing it out of the bag you answered the call, waiting for the caller to speak first.

As the call connects, Sam takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. "Hello?" he says into the phone, his tone laced with urgency.

"Hi, who is this? " you ask.

"It's Sam Winchester," he replies, his voice serious. "The guy from the library earlier today. Look, I need to talk to you about something important."

"Oh hi Sam, what can I do for you? " you asked, locking up the library and heading to the car.

Sam takes note of the sound of keys in the background. "Are you still at the library?" he asks.

"Almost about to leave, why? Did you forget something here? " you asked, now in the car tossing your bag in the backseat. There was a slight ringing in your head followed by a sharp pain. You reached back to your bag and brought out your painkillers.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Sam reassures you. "But there's something I need to talk to you about in person. It's pretty important. Can we meet? "

"Yeah sure, how far are you from the library? " you manage to say after swallowing the pills.

Sam looks out the motel window, his gaze fixed on the street outside. "Not too far. We're staying at the Starlight motel. Room 4B. Can you come over here?"

"Oh, alright. Who's 'we' by the way? " you ask, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot.

Sam grimaces, realising that he hadn't really explained the situation fully to you yet. "Oh uh...my brother Dean's here with me," he admits, his voice slightly apologetic.

"Oh I see. I'll be on my way shortly Sam. " you say goodbye and make your way to the motel a little weary of why Sam sounded so urgent. For the sake of protection, you pulled pepper spray from the bag and walked up to the motel room, knocking on the door.

Sam and Dean hear the knock at the door, and Sam jumps up to answer it. He glances through the peephole and sees you standing outside. He opens the door and immediately his eyes widen at the sight of your pepper spray. "Whoa, easy there," he says, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace.

"Sorry, momma taught me to be safe. " you laugh and enter the room, pepper spray still in hand. There was another guy there you assumed to be Sam’s older brother. He was a little older than Sam, slightly shorter with green eyes.

Dean watches you as you enter the room, his expression a mix of curiosity and scepticism. He takes note of the pepper spray in your hand, silently assessing if you were a threat. But when you mention your mother, he barks a laugh. "Smart woman," he comments with a smirk. "Never hurts to be prepared. “

"I'm Y/N. " you extend your hand to the guy and he shakes it, telling you his name. You then turn to Sam, "What is it that you called me for? "

Sam motions for you to take a seat on the bed. He sits down next to you, while Dean stands by the window with his arms crossed. "Alright, this is going to sound a little strange," Sam begins, looking at you intently. "But there's something we need to ask you about. “

"Alright then, ask away. "

Sam glances at Dean, silently asking if he should reveal the truth fully. Dean just shrugs nonchalantly. Sam takes a deep breath and turns back to you. "Have you ever heard of demons before?" he asks, his voice measured and serious.

"Demons? " you laugh, looking back and forth between the brothers, "Like the ones in myths we were talking about today? "

Sam and Dean exchange a glance, amused by your scepticism. "No, not myths," Sam answers bluntly. "We mean real, authentic demons. Straight out of Hell."

"What? "

Dean leans against the wall, a cocky smirk on his face. "You think we're pulling your leg, don’t you?" he says, looking at your doubtful expression.

"We'll yeah, just little. " you eye Dean up and down.

"Look. demons are real and we need a way to stop them. " Dean blurts out, Sam gives Dean a warning glare. He had wanted to ease you into this revelation, not just dump it all on you at once.

"What he means is that we're hunters," Sam explains, his gaze fixed on you intently. "Hunters of supernatural creatures, like demons, monsters, and witches."

"Hunters? " you tilt your head, taking in the information.

Sam nods, his expression serious. "Yeah," he confirms. "We track and kill things that go bump in the night. We've been doing it our whole lives."

"Wait, this may sound crazy but do you know Bobby Singer? " you ask.

Dean immediately averts his gaze from you to Sam. "You know Bobby? " Dean stares at me.

Sam pauses, a little taken aback by your question. He glances at Dean, who looks equally surprised. "Yeah," he answers slowly, his curiosity piqued. "We know Bobby. How do you know him?"

"Bobby is my uncle. Well my dad's family friend, I used to see him a lot when I was little. He used to tell me stories all the time about how he was a hunter and he used to kill monsters like what you’re saying now. Of course he was a drunk so nothing he said was real but it still made me interested in mythology. "

Dean looks at you quizzically, his mind racing with questions. "Why hasn't Bobby ever mentioned you? " he asks, his voice laced with suspicion.

"He and my dad had this fight when I was twelve, never saw him since. "

Sam's eyebrows furrowed, "What happened between them? If you don't mind me asking. " he asks, his tone softer now.

"Something about a hunting trip gone wrong? I think my dad must've messed up and Bobby got angry. They used to go deer hunting often. "

Sam and Dean exchange a knowing glance. They both knew about the disastrous hunting trip Bobby had gone on with John. They had heard it from Bobby many times over the years.

"Must have been one hell of a hunt," Dean mutters, more to himself than anyone else.

"Wait but what does that have to do with demons? My dad hunted deer with Bobby, not monsters or whatever. Those were just stories. "

Sam takes a deep breath, knowing that the explanation was about to get more complicated. "It's a little more than that," he begins. "Bobby was involved in a different type of hunting. Supernatural hunting and now I think that your dad was involved too. "

"You're joking, right? " you look between the brothers confused.

Dean snorts with a sarcastic laugh. "Hell, I wish we were," he says, his expression serious. "But we've been hunting these things all our lives. Demons, ghosts, werewolves, you name it."

You swallowed hard, trying to hide the fear. "So what do you want from me? I'm not some type of demon or anything. "

Sam quickly senses your fear and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "No, no, we know you're not a demon," he reassures you. "We just wanted to ask you about those symbols. "

"Oh. " you eased up a little. "Well those are to summon Thanatos from the underworld like I explained. "

Dean leans forward, intrigued. "How do you know so much about these symbols? "

"Mythology 101 at Harvard. " you say, shrugging as if it were nothing.

Dean raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Harvard, huh? Brains and beauty."

You blush at his words and fail to notice the annoyed look Sam gives his brother. He didn't miss the way Dean was eyeing you up and down.

"So anyway, what do you need me for? I already explained what there was. " you asked.

Sam rubs the back of his neck, slightly hesitating before speaking. "Well, we're trying to figure out how this thing got to earth and why someone would have wanted to summon it."

"And you think that I could help? "

Sam rubs his forehead, the exhaustion from the long day catching up to him. "We don't have anyone else to ask right now," he admits. "You said you know a lot about this, so we thought you might be able to give us some answers. “

You notice the exhaustion on both Sam and Dean's face and nod, agreeing to help them.

"Can you read ancient Greek? " Dean asks, placing one of Bobby’s old journals in front of you.

"Yes I can, a little rusty but I can do it. " you glance at this book and pull out a blank page to scribble down whatever you decipher. "This might take me a while, it's a lot and let's just say the grammar is terrible. “

Dean chuckles at your comment, his impatience showing. "Take all the time you need, sweetheart, we got all night. “

You continue pouring over the text, the brothers leave you at the table and do some research on the laptop. You were all busy for what felt like about three hours.

Sam and Dean had gotten so engrossed in their research that they lost track of time. Sam glances over at you at the small table and notices you diligently working on the ancient text. "How's it going over there? " he calls out.

"I'm almost done. " you say, scribbling the last few words on the page.

"That was quick," Dean comments, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Thanks, I was the top student. " you walk over to them at the coffee table and sit next to Sam, placing the page of translated Greek in the centre.

"Damn, that's some impressive writing skills you got there, sweetheart," Dean smirks.

Sam gives Dean a warning glance, silently telling him to cut it out. "Dean," he says, his tone stern. "Give it a rest, will you? " Dean rolls his eyes and nods.

"Okay so from what was written the missing piece isn't a symbol but more of a chant that you say out loud as you assemble the pieces together. It’s a ritual. “

Sam rubs his chin thoughtfully, taking in your translation. “So if we do this, we summon whatever is bringing those corpses back? Thanatos, you said? “

You nod, confirming his words. "Yeah. it says you have to do it thirty minutes before the full moon rises and guess what moon it is tonight. "

"We have about an hour until we need to do this. " Dean says, looking at the time.

"Damn, you're right," Sam mutters.

You watch as the brothers scramble to get everything ready for the ritual. They pull out weird looking items in jars and bags with different types of smells. "You just casually have these things? "

Dean looks up from loading his shotgun with salt rounds and gives you a smirk. "We travel a lot," he says, his tone nonchalant. "We're always prepared."

Sam gathers the supplies and sets up a circle on the ground, carefully drawing symbols and diagrams around it. As they prepare the final items for the ritual you take a seat on the couch and rub your temples, trying to subside the oncoming headache.

With fifteen minutes to spare before they start you pull Sam to the side while Dean is busy. "Hey, are you okay? " you ask him, noticing the fatigue on his face.

Sam pauses, he can see the concern in your eyes, and appreciates your thoughtfulness. "Yeah, I'm okay," he replies, his voice a bit weary. "Just a little tired, and worried about what we're about to do."

He suddenly takes hold of your hand and intertwines your fingers, surprised by the comfort your touch brings him.

"It must be scary? Having to deal with all of this. "

“It is scary," he admits, his gaze meeting yours. "We've seen and faced things most people wouldn't believe exist. But we don't have a choice. We do this, or innocent people get hurt. Or worse."

"You're heroes. " you smile up at him.

Sam can't help but smile back, a hint of pride in his expression. "Thanks," he says, his voice softer now. "But we don't always feel like heroes. There's a lot of pain and suffering we've seen. Sometimes, we question if we're making any difference at all."

"One less demon on earth, I'd say that's a big difference. " you nod and place a soft kiss on his cheek. "It's almost time, you should join your brother. "

Sam's breath hitches and he savours the moment for a brief second, before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. "

You watch as they wait for the right moment to begin the ritual. Sam effortlessly says the chant as Dean readies himself for whatever may come with a blade in his hand. You move behind the couch, away from them to be safe and out of the way.

The room suddenly turned cold and the pain in your head grew more intense. Your vision clouds with green mist and as you make out a figure standing in the middle of the symbol that Sam drew.

You blink to clear the mist from your eyes and notice the figure at Dean’s foot, dead. Confusion washes over you and you realise that the whole thing was over.

Finally, Sam looks over at you and gives you a small nod. "It worked," he says, his voice filled with relief and exhaustion as if everything lasted a long time.

You stare as the brothers clean out the mess. Dean drags the figure outside to bury its body before you could get a close look at it.

You were left with Sam alone in the room. "I can't believe that just happened. " you say stunned.

"Yeah, believe me, it’s a lot to take in." Sam agrees.

"Wait until you find out about the angels. " Dean shouts from outside.

Sam chuckles at your astonishment. “Thank you for staying out of the way, it put up a good fight, you would’ve gotten hurt. “

You nod, having no idea what he was talking about.

"You okay? " he asks, genuine concern in his eyes. "You holding up alright? " Sam closes the distance between the two of you. In the dim light of the room, he takes a moment to look at you, his gaze lingering on your face.

"I'm going to be honest Sam, that sacred me but I didn't shit myself so I think I'll be fine. "

Sam throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh at your unexpected response. There’s a hint of relief in his expression as he looks back at you. "I appreciate your honesty," he grins, still chuckling. "Most people wouldn’t be so calm after witnessing a demon exorcism."

"I'm definitely not going to be able to sleep tonight but that's nothing a little alcohol can't fix. "

Sam's expression softens. He can only imagine the shock and adrenaline rushing through your body right now. "You sure you want to go the alcohol route? " he says, a hint of worry in his voice.

"What other route is there Sam? I just saw the supernatural in real life, found out everything my drunk uncle Bobby told me was real. I think I deserve a drink. Heck, you deserve like five for dealing with this all the time. "

Sam lets out a sigh, knowing that you had a point. He can't really blame you for wanting to drown out the traumatic events of the night. “Well I wish I could catch a drink with you but there is still a lot to do. “

"There's more? I thought it was over. "

Sam shakes his head with a weary sigh.

"I wish it was that simple. There's still a lot of work to be done. We have to figure out who summoned this thing in the first place. It wasn't just a random occurrence. Someone wanted that thing on earth, and we need to find out why. "

"I don't suppose you'll be needing my help then. " you smile sadly.

Sam frowns at your assumption. He can't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of you not being involved anymore.

"Well then Sammy, you know where to find me should you find yourself needing any assistanc. " you pulled him in for a kiss.

Sam is taken by surprise at your bold gesture, but he doesn't resist, letting himself be pulled in, his hand coming up to cup your face gently as your lips meet his. For a moment, all the chaos and danger of the world fade away.

"See you around. " you walk out the door leaving Sam staring.

Sam watches you walk out the door, his lips still tingling from the unexpected kiss. "Yeah, see you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice laced with a hint of wistfulness.

~~~

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rubyvhs · 2 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ sam winchester fucking you…

16+

early season!sam and how guilty he’d be to fuck you while he’s fucking ruby,

he keeps thinking he isn’t pure enough for you but everytime he tries to turn you down you bat your eyelashes at him and he starts taking your shirt off to touch you, his hand running all over your body, removing your jeans next and he’s just staring at you underneath him going ‘fuck i don’t deserve them’.

you know about him and ruby to some extent. you don’t care, you want sam, and he’s right there and he’s grieving and he’s yours to take. after the initial shock he leans down to kiss you again before abruptly pulling away because it’s too intimate, too much. he kisses down your neck, sucking a little harder when you make a noise he just can’t fucking unhear.

he gets to your bra but doesn’t unclasp it, he works around it to show each one the attention it deserves before finally, finally, undoing the clasp and sucking on your nipples. you’re moaning so pretty underneath him and he can’t help but grind himself against the bed, just hearing your voice.

he finally decides he can’t take it anymore, consequences can go fuck themselves because he’s planning on fucking you, pulling your underwear down and he’s memorized and you’re kind of squirming, telling him to ‘hurry up, sam, please’ and he wishes he could listen but staring at you, someone he’s wanted for so long, fuck, it’s better than heaven.

but he does it. he does touch you, makes you moan louder than you ever have, fucking into you slow but so deep you can’t help but gasp his name with every thrust, begging for something though you’re not sure what, it’s just his name over and over again, and he can’t help but think that if he dies, he wants it to be at this moment, next to the purest thing he knows, inside you, maybe then he’ll be pure enough.

masterlist

should i put warning? please tell me what i should put cause i’m literally below zero when it comes to smut but i was like really craving sam and this kinda stumbled out.

#sam winchester #supernatural imagine #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester fanfiction #sammy #demon blood sam winchester #supernatural smut #spn smut #laila writes!!

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lila-lou · 8 months ago

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✨Beyond saving - Pt. 2✨

Summary: Dean is back and no longer a demon. But with all the emotions he has to deal with now, he would rather die.

This is part 3 of "Beyond saving".

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!, Mention of rape, Language, Angst, Hurt

Word Count: 5518

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As the hours stretched on, the pain seemed to deepen, sinking into your bones and settling in your soul. At first, you lay on the floor, tears flowing freely as you grappled with the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to consume you.

But as time passed, a numbness set in, dulling the sharp edges of your agony and enveloping you in a cold, empty void. You lay there, lost in the darkness of your own thoughts, the weight of your suffering pressing down on you like a leaden blanket.

After hours and with trembling limbs and tears streaming down your face, you forced yourself to your feet, the pain in your broken wrists and ribs a constant reminder of the brutality you had endured.

With each step, you felt the weight of your pain bearing down on you, threatening to crush you beneath its unbearable burden.

You made your way towards the bathroom, each movement filled with agony.

As you sank into the warm embrace of the bathtub, the water enveloped you like a soothing balm, offering a brief respite from the relentless ache that gripped your body. But even as the comforting embrace of the water washed over you, the pain remained.

Your wrists throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, the broken bones protesting with every movement. Each breath sent sharp spikes of pain shooting through your ribs, the fractured bones protesting against the strain of simply existing. And between your legs, your pussy throbbed with a raw, tender soreness, a painful reminder of Dean's brutal assault.

As you lay there, staring blankly at the water stained crimson with your own blood, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness wash over you. It wasn't just your body that bore the scars of Dean's cruelty, but your heart and soul as well.

Your face bore the imprint of his violence, your Skin bruised and swollen. And beneath the water, your bruised buttocks throbbed with pain, the memory of his forceful kneel still fresh in your mind.

As Sam and Cas returned to the bunker, a sense of urgency filled the air. Sam's heart raced with fear as he noticed the dried blood staining the kitchen floor, his mind racing with dread at the thought of what could have happened to you. Without hesitation, he began knocking frantically on the bathroom door, calling out your name with increasing desperation.

"Y/N, open up!", Sam's voice was filled with concern and panic as he pounded on the door, his hands trembling with fear. "Please, we need to make sure you're okay!".

But there was no response, only silence echoing back at him from the other side of the door. His heart sank as he exchanged a worried glance with Cas, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him like a heavy stone.

"Cas, we need to get this door open", Sam urged, his voice laced with urgency as he turned to his angelic friend for help. "Something's not right. I can feel it".

With a determined nod, Cas focused his powers, channeling his energy into the door with a burst of light. In an instant, the lock clicked open, and Sam pushed the door open with a sense of dread gnawing at his insides.

But as he stepped inside, what he saw took his breath away. There you were, lying motionless in the bathtub, surrounded by water tinged with the faint traces of blood. Sam's heart clenched with fear as he rushed to your side, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch you.

"Y/N, can you hear me?", Sam's voice was thick with emotion as he gently shook your shoulder, his eyes wide with fear. "Please, say something. Anything".

But you remained silent, your eyes vacant and distant as you stared blankly ahead. Sam's heart sank as he realized the depth of your pain.

As Sam pleaded with Cas to heal you, desperation crept into his voice, his eyes pleading with the angel for help. But despite Cas's best efforts, his healing powers seemed ineffective against the depth of your injuries. You looked terrible, completely broken, your body bearing the physical and emotional scars of Dean's cruelty.

Gently, Sam scooped you up in his arms, wrapping a towel around you with Cas's help, mindful of your fragile state.

As he held you close, he could feel the weight of your pain pressing against him. With each sob that wracked your body, his heart broke a little more, his own tears mingling with yours as he whispered words of comfort and reassurance.

"You're safe now, Y/N", Sam murmured softly.

With each step, each movement, you cried out in pain, your broken body unable to withstand even the slightest touch.

Again Cas tried to heal you. His touch enveloped your broken body, his powers surging forth with a gentle glow. With a focused determination, he began to mend the shattered bones in your wrists and ribs, his efforts slowly easing the physical pain that wracked your body.

As the warmth of his healing magic spread through you, you felt a glimmer of relief wash over you, the sharp edges of your agony blunted by his divine intervention. But even as your physical wounds began to heal, the scars that marred your soul remained untouched, a constant reminder of the darkness that had consumed you.

With a heavy heart, Cas realized the limitations of his power. Despite his best efforts, he could mend your broken bones, but the wounds that lay within you ran far deeper than he could reach.

"I've done what I can for your injuries", Cas murmured softly, his voice filled with regret as he regarded you with a solemn gaze. "But healing your soul… that will take time".

Sam's heart ached as he watched you, his own eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and sorrow. He longed

Three long weeks passed before you found the strength to speak again, the weight of your silence bearing down on you like a heavy burden. With trembling lips, you finally opened up to Sam, your voice barely above a whisper as you recounted the horrors that Dean had inflicted upon you.

"I… I couldn't stop him", you began, your voice trembling with emotion as you struggled to find the words to convey the depth of your suffering. "Dean… he… he hurt me, Sam. He hurt me in ways I can't even begin to describe".

Sam's eyes filled with tears as he listened to your words, his heart breaking with each revelation. He reached out to you, his hand offering silent support as you continued to speak, recounting the brutality of Dean's actions with a raw honesty that left him reeling.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N", Sam whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I had no idea… I never thought Dean could… could do something like that".

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to come to terms with the reality of what had happened. "I… I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive him", you admitted, your voice choked with emotion. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to look at him the same way again".

From that moment on, everything changed. The lightness and laughter that had once filled the bunker were replaced by a heavy silence, the weight of your pain casting a shadow over everything you did. Even the thought of Dean filled you with a sense of dread and betrayal, and you found yourself withdrawing further and further into yourself, your hope for redemption slipping away with each passing day.

Six months had passed since Sam had succeeded in healing Dean from the darkness of his demonhood. As Sam carefully uncuffed him in the dimly lit basement, a sense of trepidation hung heavy in the air. Dean’s first question, as the shackles fell away, was for you.

“Where is she?”, Dean’s voice was filled with a mixture of concern and longing as he scanned the room, searching for any sign of your presence. But Sam’s expression remained firm, his resolve unyielding as he stood between Dean and the truth.

“Not now, Dean”, Sam replied gently, his voice tinged with sadness. “She’s… she’s not ready to see you yet”.

Dean's heart sank at Sam's words, a heavy weight settling in his chest at the thought of your absence. "I understand", he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm… I'm not sure I'm ready to see her either. Not after what I did".

Sam's gaze softened with empathy as he looked at his brother, understanding the depth of Dean's guilt and remorse. "She's been struggling, Dean", he explained gently, his voice filled with concern. "It hasn't been easy for her these past six months. She's… she's hurt".

Dean's jaw tightened as he listened to Sam's words, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a leaden weight. "I know", he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "And it's all my fault".

Sam reached out, placing a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. "We'll get through this together, Dean", he reassured him, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "But it's going to take time. It's going to take a lot of work to earn back her trust".

As you entered your room, after a few days at Jodie´s, the familiar scent of Dean enveloped you, sending a shiver down your spine. It was a scent you had once found comforting, a reminder of the love and connection you shared with him. But now, it filled you with a sense of unease, dredging up painful memories that you had tried so hard to bury.

Unaware that Dean was back and healed, you began to unpack your belongings, your mind drifting back to the last time you had been in this room together. The memory of his touch, his laughter, and the warmth of his embrace lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what had been lost.

Little did you know, Dean had been there just moments before, his presence lingering like a ghost in the room. He had come seeking solace in the familiar surroundings, hoping to feel some connection to you.

But as you moved about the room, your senses tingling with the weight of his presence, a sense of foreboding washed over you. It was as if the walls themselves were closing in, suffocating you with the memories of a love that had turned sour.

And as you stood there, frozen in place, the realization slowly dawned on you—Dean was back. He was here, in this room, just minutes ago, his presence a haunting reminder of the pain and betrayal you had endured.

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to come to terms with the truth, the weight of his absence and his return crashing down on you like a tidal wave. You knew that facing him again would reopen wounds, dredging up emotions you had spent months trying to suppress.

As tears streamed down your cheeks, Sam found you frozen in the room, your emotions palpable in the air around you. Concern etched deep lines into Sam's face as he approached, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

"We need to talk", Sam said gently, his voice filled with compassion as he reached out to touch your shoulder.

You turned to face him, your expression a mixture of anguish and resignation. "I already know", you whispered hoarsely, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sam's brow furrowed with concern as he moved closer, his hand lingering on your arm. "Y/N, I know this is hard, but you can't just run away from this", he urged softly, his eyes searching yours for some sign of understanding.

But you were already moving towards the door, your mind clouded with pain and uncertainty. "I can't do this, Sam", you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. "I can't face him again, not after everything that's happened".

Sam's grip tightened on your arm, his expression filled with determination. "You don't have to face him alone", he insisted, his voice unwavering. "I'll be there with you, every step of the way".

For a moment, you hesitated, torn between the desire to flee and the need to confront the truth. But in the end, it was Sam's unwavering support that gave you the strength to stay.

With a heavy sigh, you nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that bound you together.

As the days passed, the weight of Dean's presence hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the turmoil that engulfed your life. Despite Sam's assurances, you couldn't bring yourself to face him, the fear and uncertainty gnawing at your insides like a relentless beast.

Each night, you lay awake in bed, listening to the echoes of Dean's screams as he wrestled with his nightmares. His tortured cries pierced the silence of the night, a haunting melody that echoed through the empty corridors of the bunker.

And during the day, you remained holed up in your room, barricaded behind closed doors as you sought refuge from the chaos that threatened to consume you. The sound of Dean's footsteps outside your door sent shivers down your spine, the fear of his presence paralyzing you with its intensity.

Sleep became a distant memory, your mind plagued by a never-ending carousel of worries and anxieties. Dark circles formed beneath your eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights and endless torment that plagued your every waking moment.

In the kitchen, your hands trembled as you reached for another cup of coffee, the bitter taste a poor substitute for the comfort you so desperately craved.

Cas found you in the kitchen, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow as he took in your tired and worn appearance.

"Y/N, you look exhausted", he remarked softly, his blue eyes filled with worry. "Have you been sleeping at all?".

You shook your head, the weariness weighing heavily on your shoulders. "Not much", you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's been hard to find any peace, especially with him back".

Cas nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic. "I can imagine", he replied gently. "But you can't keep going on like this. It's not healthy".

Tears welled in your eyes as you confessed your fear. "I'm afraid to sleep", you admitted, your voice trembling with emotion. "Every time I close my eyes, I hear Dean's screams and footsteps outside my door. I can't bear the thought of facing him again".

"I can stay with you while you sleep, if that would help".

Your heart swelled with gratitude at his offer, a sense of relief washing over you like a wave. "Thank you, Cas", you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I don't know what I would do without you".

A few hours later, the sound of the bunker door opening signaled the return of Sam and Dean from their hunt. Sam's footsteps echoed through the corridors as he made his way through the bunker, his expression a mix of exhaustion and anticipation.

"Hey, Cas, you here?", Sam called out, his voice carrying down the hallway.

Cas emerged from your room, his gaze meeting Sam's as he stepped into the dimly lit corridor. "Sam", he greeted quietly, his tone somber.

Sam's brow furrowed with concern as he took in Cas's grave expression. "What's going on?", he asked.

Cas hesitated for a moment before speaking, his words measured and deliberate. "Y/N hasn't been sleeping well", he explained, his gaze drifting back to your sleeping form on the bed.

Sam's glanced into the room, his heart sinking at the sight of you curled up on the bed, your face drawn and pale in the soft light.

"What do you mean?", Sam asked, his voice filled with worry.

Cas sighed. "She's been afraid to sleep", he admitted quietly. "So I offered to stay with her while she rests".

"Thank you, Cas", he said sincerely, gratitude evident in his voice. "I'll take over from here".

And as Cas nodded in acknowledgment, Sam stepped into the room, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form with a mixture of concern and tenderness. With Cas's help, he would ensure that you found the peace and rest you so desperately needed.

As Sam and Cas remained in your room, their voices barely above a whisper as they discussed your condition, Dean found himself drawn to the doorway like a moth to a flame. Despite Sam's explicit instructions to stay away, he couldn't resist the urge to see you, to reassure himself that you were okay.

With each hesitant step, Dean's heart pounded in his chest, his footsteps silent on the floor as he approached the room where you lay sleeping. He knew he shouldn't be here, knew he was risking Sam's wrath by defying his orders, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to see you, to make sure you were safe.

As he reached the doorway, Dean's breath caught in his throat at the sight before him. You lay on the bed, your breathing slow and steady, your face peaceful in sleep. For a moment, Dean was transfixed by the sight of you, his heart aching with longing and regret.

But even as he stood there, a voice in the back of his mind reminded him of the pain he had caused you, of the darkness that still lingered within him. He knew he didn't deserve your forgiveness, didn't deserve to be anywhere near you after what he had done.

As Dean turned to leave the room, Sam’s voice cut through the silence like a knife.

“Dean, what the hell are you doing here?”, Sam’s tone was sharp, his eyes flashing with anger as he confronted his brother in the hallway.

Dean froze in his tracks, his heart sinking at the sound of Sam’s voice.

“I just… I needed to see her, Sammy”, Dean replied, his voice heavy with guilt and regret. “I needed to know she was okay”.

"I get that, Dean", Sam said, his voice softer but still tinged with frustration. "But she needs space, especially from you".

Dean nodded, a mix of shame and understanding evident in his eyes. "I know, Sam. I fucking screwed up", he admitted, his voice tight with emotion. "I just… I can't stand the thought of her being in pain and not being able to do anything about it".

Sam sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping as he tried to find the right words. "I know you care about her, Dean", he said gently. "But right now, what she needs most is for you to respect her boundaries. Give her the space she needs to heal".

Dean swallowed hard, the weight of Sam's words sinking in. "I will, Sam. I promise", he vowed, his voice filled with sincerity.

With a nod, Sam gestured for Dean to follow him away from the room. As they walked down the hallway together, Dean couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed heavily on his heart.

One week later, Sam and Dean sat in the library, the weight of their conversation hanging heavy in the air. They had been discussing Dean's time as a demon, the darkness that had consumed him, and the pain he had inflicted on those he cared about.

After a long silence, broken only by the soft crackling of the fireplace, Dean spoke up, his voice choked with tears. "I can't do this", he admitted, his words barely above a whisper. "I can't live with what I've done to her".

Sam's heart sank at the despair in his brother's voice, the anguish written plainly on his face. He reached out a hand, placing it gently on Dean's shoulder, offering what little comfort he could.

"I know it's hard, Dean", Sam said softly, his own voice thick with emotion. "But you can't give up. You have to find a way to live with what you've done, to make things right".

Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I don't know if I can, Sam", he confessed, his voice raw with pain. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for what I did to her".

Sam's heart broke for his brother, for the torment he was enduring. He wanted nothing more than to take away Dean's suffering, to ease the burden of guilt that weighed so heavily upon him.

Dean’s voice cracked as he continued, the weight of his confession pressing down on him like a heavy burden. “I hate myself, Sam”, he whispered. “I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is… is what I did to her”.

"I know, Dean”, Sam said softly. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t let it consume you. You’re stronger than this”.

But Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked. “I don’t feel strong, Sam”, he admitted. “I feel broken. Like I’m irredeemable”.

"I know she'll never forgive me, Sam", he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I don't blame her. What I did… it's unforgivable".

Sam's heart clenched at Dean's admission, the weight of his brother's pain almost too much to bear. "Dean, you can't give up hope", he said gently, his voice filled with compassion. "People can surprise you. You just have to give her time".

But Dean shook his head, his eyes filled with resignation. "I've lost her, Sam", he said, his voice hollow with despair. "I've lost the love of my life, and the respect I had for myself along with it".

Standing in the hallway, you listened silently to the conversation unfolding in the library. The weight of Dean's confession and Sam's comforting words hung heavy in the air, their voices echoing through corridor.

Tears welled in your eyes as you heard Dean's admission of self-hatred and despair. The pain in his voice cut through you like a knife, stirring a mixture of emotions within you. Part of you longed to reach out to him, to offer him solace and forgiveness. But another part of you recoiled at the memories of the trauma he had inflicted upon you, the scars that still lingered both physically and emotionally.

Taking a deep breath, you silently retreated from the hallway, the weight of the conversation heavy on your heart. You knew that healing would take time, for both you and Dean.

Another week passed, the weight of the unresolved tension between you and Dean hanging heavy in the air. Despite Sam and Cas's efforts to provide support and comfort, sleep continued to elude both of you. And as Cas had to leave to attend to other matters, leaving you without his comforting presence, the nights grew even longer and more restless.

One evening, as you stood in kitchen, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting shadows across the room, you reached for a beer from the fridge. Your mind was consumed with thoughts of Dean and the tumultuous emotions that swirled within you.

But before you could retreat to the solitude of your room, the sound of footsteps drew your attention, and you froze as Dean entered the kitchen. The air between you crackled with tension, the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved emotions hanging heavy in the silence.

As you found yourself alone with Dean in the very room where he had caused you so much pain, a wave of fear washed over you, paralyzing you in place. Your breath caught in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribs as though it were trying to escape the confines of your chest. Tears welled in your eyes, blurring your vision as you pressed yourself against the cold surface of the kitchen counter, seeking any semblance of safety and distance from the man who had once been your everything.

For Dean, seeing the raw fear reflected in your eyes was like a dagger to his heart. The weight of his past actions bore down upon him, crushing him with the knowledge of the pain he had caused you. His own eyes filled with tears as he watched you retreat, his heart breaking at the sight of your distress. Seeing you pressed against the kitchen counter, seeking refuge from him, shattered him in a way he hadn't expected.

"I'm so sorry", Dean whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he took a hesitant step forward, his hands trembling at his sides. "I never wanted to hurt you. I swear, I never meant for any of this to happen".

His words hung heavy in the air, filled with the weight of his sincerity. But he knew that mere words could never erase the pain he had caused you. He longed to reach out to you, to offer you solace and comfort.

As Dean took another step forward, his expression wrought with anguish and regret, you held up a trembling hand, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger.

"Don't… don't come any closer", you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with a palpable sense of urgency. Your cheeks were wet with tears, your entire body trembling with the weight of your emotions. Every fiber of your being recoiled at the thought of him drawing near, the memories of his past actions haunting you like ghosts in the night.

"I can't… I can't do this", you continued, your voice wavering as you struggled to maintain your composure. "Not now, not ever. You… you've broken something inside of me, Dean. Something that can never be fixed".

Your words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the irreparable damage that had been done. The distance between you felt insurmountable, a gaping chasm that stretched on for eternity.

Dean froze in place, his heart breaking at the sound of your trembling voice and the anguish etched across your tear-stained face. He longed to reach out to you, to wrap you in his arms and beg for your forgiveness. But he knew that he had no right to ask for such mercy, not after what he had done to you.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, (Y/N). Not after everything I've done".

His words were heavy with resignation, his gaze cast downward as he grappled with the enormity of his mistakes. The pain in his eyes mirrored your own, a reflection of the shattered pieces of both your hearts.

"I just… I just want you to know that I'm sorry", Dean continued. "I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make things right, even if I never earn your forgiveness".

As Sam stumbled into the kitchen, his eyes half-lidded with sleep, he froze in his tracks at the sight before him. The scene that unfolded before his eyes sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his veins, instantly banishing the remnants of sleep from his mind.

The sight of you, standing there with tears streaming down your face, your eyes wide with fear, pierced through him like a knife.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?", Sam's voice was soft but urgent as he rushed forward, his eyes flickering between you and Dean, who stood nearby with a look of devastation etched across his features.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. His instincts told him that something was seriously wrong.

With a sense of urgency, Sam stepped forward, his gaze never leaving yours as he reached out a comforting hand. "Are you okay", he asked, his voice filled with concern. "What happened?".

With a shaky voice and a forced calmness, you respond to Sam, "Nothing, Sam. Nothing happened". But the tremor in your voice and the haunted look in your eyes betray the truth of your words.

Before Sam could press further, you turn abruptly and practically flee from the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest as you race towards the safety of your room.

As the door slams shut behind you, the sound reverberates through the quiet bunker. Inside the confines of your room, you collapse onto the bed, tears streaming down your face as you try to quell the storm of emotions raging within you.

Meanwhile, Dean stands in the kitchen, his fists clenched at his sides as he stares at the spot where you had stood only moments before. The silence hangs heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of his ragged breaths and the steady thud of his heart.

With a growl of frustration, Dean lashes out, his fist colliding with the wall with enough force to leave a sizable dent. Pain shoots through his hand, but it pales in comparison to the anguish that gnaws at his soul.

Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes as he sinks to the floor, the weight of his remorse pressing down upon him. He had thought that seeing you again would bring him some measure of closure, some semblance of redemption. But all he had accomplished was to reopen the wounds he had inflicted upon you, tearing them open with brutal force.

In that moment, Dean feels utterly lost, adrift in a sea of regret and self-loathing. He had shattered the one thing he had cherished most in this world, and now he was left to face the consequences of his actions alone.

As Dean sat on the floor, his back against the wall, Sam approached him cautiously.

"Dean, man, are you okay?", Sam asked softly, his voice tinged with worry.

Dean looked up at his brother, his eyes bloodshot and filled with tears. "No, Sam, I'm not okay", he admitted, his voice choked with emotion. "I don't think I'll ever be okay again".

Sam sinked down beside him, mirroring his brother's posture as they both sat in silence for a moment. "Dean, what happened between you two… it wasn't your fault", he said gently.

But Dean shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "No, Sam, you don't understand", he insisted. "I hurt her, Sam. I hurt her in ways that I can't even begin to comprehend. And now… now I don't know how to fix it".

"Dean, you need to forgive yourself first".

Dean's voice trembled as he spoke, the weight of his words heavy with shame and self-loathing. "How am I supposed to forgive myself, Sam?", he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How can I ever look her in the eyes again, knowing what I did to her? How can I live with myself, knowing that I… that I raped my own girlfriend because I was a fucking demon?".

Dean felt like he's drowning in a sea of guilt and remorse.

"Sam, you don't understand", he said, "This… this is worse than anything I ever experienced in Hell. Worse than purgatory. Since I've been back, since I'm no demon anymore, the pain of what I did to her… it's unbearable. It's like a constant weight crushing down on me, suffocating me. I can't escape it, Sam. I can't escape the guilt, the shame, the remorse. It's consuming me from the inside out".

"I don't know how to live with myself, Sam", he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Every day, every moment, I'm haunted by what I did to her. And the worst part is… I know I don't deserve to be forgiven. I don't deserve to be happy. I don't deserve anything".

Sam's heart broke for his brother, knowing the depth of his pain. He reached out, wrapping Dean in a tight embrace, offering what little comfort he can. "Dean, listen to me", he mumbled softly, his voice filled with conviction. "I promise you, we'll find a way to make things right. But you have to hold on. You have to keep fighting".

For a moment, Dean allowed himself to lean into Sam's embrace, seeking solace in the comfort of his presence.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 3

#jensen ackles #dean x you #dean x reader #deanwinchtser #sam and dean #dean winchester #castiel #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #sam x reader #dean winchester x y/n #demon dean x reader #demon dean #hurtful #angst

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deans-yn · 2 months ago

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as a bi girl i’m tired of pretending im not attracted to meg the demon

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural #castiel #castiel x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #megstiel #meg the demon

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night-night-stories-before-bed · 1 month ago

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A horned protector

Warning ⚠️ ; Cursing, mention of past character death, abuse of alcohol, blood.

Pairing; none, reader is inside a male body

Summary; You don't enjoy it, and neither do the brothers, but the three of you are stuck together because of their father. John Winchester outsmarted you, binding you in a deal to watch and protect his sons. Well, only Dean. And tonight, you are doing just that.

Ps; I did not mean for this story to be this long. Hope y'all like a long read!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Being a demon wasn't always easy or fun. For example, you were stuck with two hunters who despised your existence and wanted nothing more than to kill you! So why stick around? Because their father had outsmarted you on a deal. You were still mad about it.

You had known and tormented John Winchester for years. You used to have fun stalking him during his hunts or just following him and messing around. You could remember that time you followed him on a vampire hunt, exaggerating everything; the sneaking around, the search for clues. You even put on a Sherlock Holmes costume!

Oh, how John hated you! He even once tried to run you over with the Impala. It was good memories. Well, until that night when John summoned you specifically on a crossroad. It was shocking and unexpected.

You could still remember the seriousness and solemnity in his eyes as he made his deal with you. That upon his death you would watch and protect his sons against Azazel. Well, mostly Dean. For some reason, John had put an emphasis on protecting his eldest boy. But there had been a trick; that he could still make a deal with another demon if its meant protecting and or saving his sons.

You hadn't believed it would happen. It was so precise!

And then it did.

John Winchester had died and the deal had to be followed.

It had been a few years and you had failed not once, but twice. Sam had been stabbed to death and Dean had made a deal, ending with his soul being dragged into hell. Yes. You had failed miserably and it was pitiful. You had given your all even when the boys had tried to kill you, you stayed around to watch over them, but it was as if an outside force had been against you.

It intrigued you, especially now that you had learned about the so-called ‘prophet’ the brothers had met and who was a writer. That Chuck had written about their life, even about you, which had been both a surprise and shock with how accurately he had been describing some events. It also made you wary. What other capacity did that man have? Could he hurt Dean and Sam?

Those thoughts were on your mind as you walked toward the brother’s motel room. The Impala was parked in front of it, guiding you in the right direction. The boys were hunting something, you didn't really pay attention to what, for the past week. They were lost in the middle of Texas on a full moon and you could tell it impacted them differently.

Sam, bless his heart, stayed happy and festive researching their monster restlessly. You hadn't seen him for the past two days but knew he was fine thanks to Dean.

Dean who was the one taking it the worse. While he kept smiling for his little brother you saw the emptiness behind his eyes, the way he clenched his jaws and how his nights were filled with nightmares. Dean didn't know you knew as you came only when they slept by fear of either getting shot or stabbed.

Well, except tonight.

You had gone out of your way to get the boys more supplies for their hunts after seeing they were getting low. Silver bullets and knives, salt and you even braved the Church to get some holy water, burning your hand on the process. But it was a small price to pay if it could help keep the Winchester brothers alive.

The bag hanging on your shoulder, you moved your free hand to unlock the door the the brothers’ room, calling for Dean.

- “Hey pieface, guess what I got for y'all!”

You barely finished your sentence when a shadow mover in front of your eyes. You barely had the time to duck, dropping the bag, before pain exploded in your face.

Hand clenched tightly around Dean’s wrist, your demonic eyes stared at the eldest brother with both amusement and pride. You chuckled as you forced Dean to remove the knife from your cheek. A few inches more and you would have dropped death.

- “My, my! Look at the mess you are making Dean.” You said, your demonic eyes turning to the blade as blood poured out of your opening cheek. You could feel the flesh hanging against your jaw, exposing your teeth. “Better clean it up before Sammy comes back.”

- “What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean asked, snatching his wrist out of your grip.

- “Bringing you some gift!”

You bowed down, grabbed the bag and shoved it in Dean’s arms. You watched him walk to the table and drop everything on it. You could smell the scent of alcohol clearly, almost as if you had the bottle right under your nose. You frowned, watching closely as Dean examined everything.

The eldest brother was clearly tipsy now that you watched more attentively. You clicked your tongue annoyed with how careless Dean was. You knew how he had a lot on both his shoulders and mind, but the bottle wasn't the answer. Yet, you said nothing, your eyes looking around to see the bottles of beer and other alcohol around the room.

With a wave of your hand, you moved them all together before proceeding to clean. You felt Dean’s gaze staring holes in your back and almost laughed, but didn't. You just remembered what day it was.

Today was the anniversary of John Winchester’s death.

You sighed softly as you put the last bottle in the trash back before turning your attention to Dean. He had dropped down on the bed, feet hanging from the mattress and his back turned to you. For a second you imagined him as a small pouting child, which he kinda was. You didn't want to know just how bad the situation would turn out when Sam would come back…

You left Dean pouting on the bed and went to take care of your face. Grabbing a needle and some thread you stitched your cheek back together before taking off your shirt and washing it in the sink. You didn't want to trigger Sam with the smell of your blood, knowing how hard the boy had worked to get ride of his addiction.

Clean, you walked out of the bathroom to get ride of your blood that had fallen on the ground. Still on the bed, Dean stared at you, eyes clouded by the alcohol. You clicked your tongue like a disappointed father before looking at him.

- “You are on a hunt, Dean. Why are you drinking like that?”

- “Fuck you. Get out of our room.”

You rolled your eyes and threw away the blood-soaked tissues before making a knot in the bag.

- “Yeah, I will. For five minutes. I’ll be right back.”

Carrying the trash bag, you went outside. The air was heavy and humid and there was no breeze. You saw no one else outside and yet still felt like you were being watched. Frowning, you hurried to throw away the trash. Looking around you, you couldn't see anything alive. Not in the trees or on the ground nor in the sky.

But the feeling was still there.

You weren't alone out there.

Grinding your teeth, you went back inside and locked the door. The sound had Dean sitting on the bed staring at you angrily.

- “What the fuck are you…” Dean tried to ask before you interrupted him.

- “Shut up. We are not alone and something was outside watching me.” You said, grabbing a shotgun and throwing it at him. “Get ready, I bet its about to get messy.”

That was enough to sober up Dean who grabbed the gun and got up, joining you in the middle of the room. Your eyes were glued to the window even if the curtains were closed. Next to you, Dean was calling Sam to tell him to come back as quickly as possible.

He didn't mention that you were there.

Outside you heard the gravel crunching as something walked around in front of the door and window. Immediately Dean raised his gun, ready to shoot if anything tried to enter. You waved your hand, turning off the lights, trying to make you two as discreet as possible. You could still see clearly, unlike Dean.

The sound of footsteps became quieter until then silence was all that was left. Dean’s breathing was the only thing you could hear and neither of you moved nor dropped your guard. It wasn't over, you knew it. Whatever was outside had watched you and saw where you went.

It knew you were in there.

You moved, ever so slightly, keeping Dean behind you. Whatever that thing was, you didn't want to take the risk for Dean to be hurt. Not only because of your deal with John but also because Dean had been drinking. His reflexes weren't going to be as fast as normally.

- “Oi fucker, what are you doing?” Dean asked, voice barely audible.

- “Honoring my deal with your father, pieface.” You replied with a chuckle.

The next seconds passed in a blur.

The sound of broken glass filled the room as a growl broke the silence of the night. A shadow jumped between the curtains ready to pounce on you and Dean. Without thinking you raised your hand and sent the thing flying against the wall. Dean didn't lose a second and immediately shot at it.

The monster moved before any bullet hit it.

Knowing what was to come, you turned your attention on Dean. With the same trick, you sent Dean flying out of the room by the broken window. The young man screamed and you smiled as the creature tackled you to the ground, fangs and claws digging in your flesh. You didn't scream, fingers finding the thing’s eyes and pushing them deep.

Warm blood pulsed and rolled down your hands and wrists as the creature howled in pain. You didn't let go and kept digging, feeling the eyes break under your fingers and nails scratching the bones.

You gasped and coughed as blood and brain matter splashed all over your faces. The sound of a gunshot echoed in the room and the corpse fell on top of you. Groaning, you pushed the carcass off top of you and sat, disgust painted all over your face. You turned your attention toward the window where Dean stood, shotgun still pointed on the dead creature.

- “We need to go, now. Cops won't be long to get here and I don't want to have to explain this mess. Grab everything, I’ll get the car ready.” Dean said before walking away.

Not questioning him, you did as told. Within a minute you had gathered all the brothers’ belongings and the things you had gotten for them. The next, you sat next to Dean as he drove you away to go get Sam. The silence was heavy and even you didn't dare say a word. There was something, like a fragile balance, between the two of you. So fragile that a single sound would brake it and make Dean snap.

Which happen even if you didn't said a word.

The eldest Winchester hit the break and before you could ask what he was doing, his fist collided with your already injured jaw. Then another fist followed and another. It took you a few seconds to realize that Dean was crying, his whole body shaking with each sob. You couldn't make out what he was saying, but guessed he was cursing you like always.

You didn't defend yourself, allowing Dean to just let it all out until you finally caught a few words. Your fault. Didn't do enough. Abandoned us.

He wasn't hitting you.

He was hitting what you represented.

No.

Who you represented.

His father who hadn't been present. His father who had been so hard and rough on him and who, in the end, had died before they could talk about everything. John had died leaving Dean without ny closure.

Dean hadn't been drinking because he was sad, but because he was angry.

After a few minutes, you gently grabbed Dean by the shoulders and he stopped. In your hands, you could feel his body shaking with every sob. If you could still feel emotions, the sight would have broken your heart. But you were a demon. You had lost your humanity a long time ago.

You both kept quiet. Dean by shame, you because you didn't know what to say. Dean drove away until you came across a familiar car; the one Sam had used to go to the library. You stopped again and Sam jumped in, abandoning his car. The door was barely closed that Dean was off again.

- “What the fuck happened to you?” Sam asked you, leaning between your and Dean’s seat.

- “Got a visit from your friend. I don't think he loved me much!” You said jokingly, waving your hands to show your wounds. “Sorry for the smell sweetheart.”

- “Anyway. What are you doing here?” Sam asked after a few seconds of silence.

- “I came to give y'all a bag of ammunition and other things y'all could use during your hunts. I saw how low you were on your inventory.”

Sam looked at you in surprise and suspicion. Of course, the youngest would wonder if you were doing it for another reason than to help. He looked at his brother, expecting Dean to deny what you said, but when his brother said nothing, Sam simply nodded and thanked you.

Slowly, they were learning to trust you. After all, you never lied to them, not even once. And in the future, you would be the only one to do so. Unknown to you three, there would be even more tragedy and danger to come, but you would be there, always.

You would be their horned protector until it killed you.

#supernatural #x male reader #male reader #x gn reader #gn reader #dean winchester #x reader #fanfic #reader #sam winchester #angst #demon

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