#so he could give this to dean when he woke up

[casdeans-pie]

Happy Birthday Dean [01/24]

---- "I'm your huckleberry"

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— i believe in a thing called love

SUMMARY : dean thinks you’re playing a game but he slowly realises you’re not. 

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), unprotected piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, edging, praise kink?, horniness 

WORD COUNT : 4.2k

A/N : title from a song by the darkness. this fills the square amnesia for my @jacklesversebingo card.  I’m sorry yall, I like cliffhangers 😔 (but there’s a part two coming, yay!)

You don’t remember ever waking up to a more warm and pleasant morning.

Usually, you woke up after sleeping however many hours you could have, and always felt like it wasn’t enough. Your eyes burned with sleepiness, your body felt heavy with fatigue, and your mind was clouded with the darkness of unconsciousness.

Not this morning.

You felt light and warm, like the vapour of your too-hot shower. Your bed was soft and your sheets smelled of sweet and flowery fabric softener. 

You opened your eyes to a room blanketed in complete darkness. There was not a window in sight for sunlight to slither into and your stomach sank slightly when you realised that you didn’t know where you were. Or how you got to where you were now.

Your nakedness beneath soft, thin sheets made you feel vulnerable. You pulled the sheets up your body and started to get out of bed, only for the sheets to catch on something. No, on someone. A man who groaned gravelly and slightly tugged the sheets away from you.

Your eyes widened, your blood went cold with fear, and your body became hot with adrenaline. You froze as you thought of what to do and looked around to see if you could make any shapes while the darkness smothered you. 

“Come back to bed, sweetheart,” he pleaded lazily, his voice thick with sleep making your skin prickle. He gave the blanket a lazy tug to encourage you, but you ignored him. You didn’t know him, the audacity. You simply released the blanket and blindly made your way around the room for clothes that you must have left somewhere. 

You heard him sigh tiredly, the blankets rustled when he shifted, and the room lit up with the quiet click of a lamp’s switch and you yelped when you saw him, equally naked, in the bed. He sat up in alarm and looked around, before just staring at you in confusion.

His hair was a mess and he looked tired… but hot. His arms were thick and strong. His shoulders were broad and a familiar tattoo rested above his heart, beneath his collarbone. He wasn’t ripped like someone who was obsessed with going to the gym and dieting. He was so damn fine. The thin blankets came lower down his hips when he sat up inquisitively. His stomach became taut and you could see the faint lines of his abs. At least you slept with someone hot and not some creep. Well… he could still be a creep.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” He moved the blankets from his hips, subsequently flashing you his dick, when he began to get up and make his way to you.

“No, stop!” You shouted, covering your eyes before deciding to cover yourself instead. He instantly obeyed and froze on the spot, bewildered. “Cover your eyes,” you demanded exasperatedly.

“What? Why?” He asked, but he still covered his eyes with his hand. But who could blame you for quickly stealing a glance at his very pretty cock? “Did you start your period? You’re not due for another two weeks.” You blinked at him, astonished and disoriented.

“Uhhh, what? How do you even know that, dude?” You flushed with embarrassment.

“Dude?” He lowered his hand to give you an irritated look. The only reason you didn’t shout at him to look away was that he wasn’t staring at you like you were a piece of cake. “It’s way too early for jokes.” He shook his head at you and turned around to sift through the tall dresser behind him. Your eyes hesitantly dropped to his perky ass and you forced yourself to look away before he turned to you.

Forgive me. I am just human.

“Where’s my damned clothes?” You asked, leaning forward over the bed to drag the blanket towards yourself to cover up. He turned with a deadpan expression while he slipped his boxers up to his hips. But when you lifted your brows expectantly, he rolled his eyes at you and smiled sarcastically, flourishing his arms in front of the dresser.

He was kind enough to pull out a black shirt that looked like it was his, then pink women's underwear, and finally some colourfully striped socks. He handed them to you, but you backed away.

“No, I’m not wearing that,” you refused, looking disgustedly at the cotton underwear and the small socks. 

“It’s yours,” he told you flatly.

“What do you mean it’s mine?” 

He blinked at you boredly and dropped the clothes on the bed to cross his arms across his very sexy broad chest. “Alright. How long are you gonna keep this up?”

“I… uh, what?” 

He smiled slowly and climbed up on the bed to get closer to you. Once he did, he reached for your waist and tugged you forward. Your heart thudded heavily in your chest and you clutched the blanket closer to your breasts. Even standing on his knees in the bed, he was taller than you. 

“What game are you playin’ at, hmm?” He asked seductively, gently squeezing your side. Your lips parted slightly and your heart raced. 

You studied his face, captivated by his beauty. The crinkles at the corner of his verdant eyes called to you when he smiled down at you. You could see he was doing the same. His eyes followed a path along your face until they landed on your lips. You couldn’t help following the same path on his own with your eyes. After letting your eyes drift across the curve of his freckled nose, the line of his jaw, and the attractive stubble, your eyes fell to his pillowy lips.

His hand moved to your jaw. He looked playful and your heart sped up the longer he admired you. His calloused hand gently slid up your jawline to tangle his fingers in your hair until finally, he dipped down and kissed you. His lips felt soft against your slightly-chapped lips, but he didn’t seem to mind. 

His mouth moved lazily, yet expertly over yours. Your stomach fluttered and your breath hitched. As simple as it was, it felt amazing. His lips on yours sent waves of need and excitement through your body, electrifying your skin. 

He clouded your mind with his kiss and your mouth slowly fell open. He cupped the back of your head in his hand and tilted his head, slowly becoming more firm and needy. Your hand released the sheet from your body and your hands found their way into his soft brown hair. He hummed lowly in appreciation and splayed his free hand across the bare skin of your back.

He carefully removed his hand from your hair, then you felt his hands move to the back of your thighs. He broke the kiss momentarily, his breath against your swollen lips made you dizzy as he hoisted you up. You clung to him, dazed and aroused, and he carefully dropped you into the bed again.

His knees parted your legs. You could feel your arousal dripping down as you were exposed to the room’s cool air. He almost instantly pressed his hips to your wet core. You could feel the warmth of his hard cock against your pulsing clit. You moaned softly and he gave you a charming smile that heated your cheeks in response. 

He leaned down to kiss you again. This time, his tongue pushed past your lips. The warmth and wetness of his saliva moved against your tongue. He did it as if he’d done a thousand times to you—shamelessly, with craving. 

His lips moved passionately, firmly against yours. His tongue brushed over yours needily, lovingly. He tasted you with hunger and pulled away with heavy breaths, ignoring the string of spit connecting your lips to his. 

He leaned forward again, except this time—when you closed your eyes—you felt his lips brush against your cheeks. His warm breath tickled your neck and ear, so shivers trickled through your body. 

You squirmed beneath him and wiggled your hips longingly.

“I’m gonna make you come so hard on my tongue, baby,” he whispered. You cursed softly. Your cunt clenched with excitement at the thought of him doing to your pussy, what he’d done to your mouth. You almost didn’t feel him press wet kisses down your neck until he sucked gently at your pulse.

He moved down your body slowly. Used his teeth, tongue, and lips on your flesh to hold you in his spell. He did it so precisely, fanning the embers to create a fire of desire that overwhelmed your body with lust. 

His lips brushed against your nipple and your heart lurched. Heat pooled between your legs, followed by a warm wetness that you somehow knew would boost his ego. 

“Tell me what you’re thinkin’,” he whispered against your breast before gently sinking his teeth around your nipple. His fingers pinched the other. How he expected you to respond was unclear as he teased your sensitive skin with his expert tongue and strummed at your flesh like a professional guitarist. 

“How did I end up here?” You replied quietly, carding your fingers through his short hair. He chuckled softly at your response, moved on from one breast to the other. His saliva on your abandoned nipple enhanced the coldness of the room, causing your skin to tingle. 

His laugh was a whole other thing. Hot and deep. Everything about him seemed to be that way. Hot and deep.

His hand sneaked down to your ribs, your stomach, and stayed there. Warm, heavy, huge, and calloused. One hell of a man. You bet he could choke you with one hand. 

You moaned softly at the thought and squeezed his sides with your thighs in attempts to alleviate your desire. It was futile, but you had a feeling that’s how he wanted you. He smirked against your breast, you could feel the stretch of a smile on his sinful lips, and he finally moved on.

“You’re so desperate today, aren’t ya?” Amusement seeped into his voice, but there was nothing amusing about the way his hand finally moved between your legs. He slid his middle finger through your folds, slowly teasing your clit with ghostly touches. “Always so wet, baby, fuck,” he moaned against your hipbone. 

“Please,” you whined, clutching his hair tighter. He sucked a lavender mark on your hips and slid his lips down to your pelvis.

“Yeah?” He teased with a smirk. You loosened your grip on his hair, just slightly. His green eyes sparkled up at you, but all you could really focus on was his finger turning to two fingers that quickly dipped into your entrance to gather your excessive slick. “Fuck.” Oh, God. No one should sound so hot saying that word, but your stomach seemed to flip excitedly when it sounded so pleased. “Look at that, sweetheart. You’re soaked, it’s gonna be so easy for me to fuck you.”

“Jesus Christ,” you whispered, your toes curled with excitement. 

He parted your folds with his fingers and lowered himself to level his mouth with your dripping cunt. His warm breath on your wet heat made you squirm and your legs shamelessly opened wider for him. The Pied Piper of sex.  

His eyes fluttered shut when he kissed your clit. You don’t think anyone’s ever done that to you before. To be fair, you can’t remember much and you don’t know if it’s because of his intoxicating sensuality or because of something much more serious. Quite frankly, you didn’t care as he continued to kiss you down to your clenching entrance with hums of appreciation vibrating through your desperate core.

“Please,” you laughed breathily, weakly attempting to pull his face closer between your legs. He perked up even more at that, and flicked his tongue against your clit, perfectly striking a nerve like a chord that resonated through your entire body and made you quiver. 

He flattened his tongue from your aching pussy to your clit, slowly and loudly savouring the taste of your arousal on his tongue. He did it over and over before settling for lapping at your entrance where your arousal puddled. His moans were husky and praising.

You gently weaved your fingers through his hair and panted heavily. His nose nudged at your pulsing clit and his tongue pushed into your fluttering pussy. 

“Fuck, please,” you whimpered, tightening your grip on the hair at the top of his head. He hummed against your core and roughly licked his way up to your clit. Quick flicks of his tongue on your clit made you writhe with pleasure. Curses slipped from your lips and all you could think about was the sensation of how wet your pussy was with his spit and how close to coming you were again.

You felt one of his fingers slowly push inside your cunt. He worked you open carefully with one thick finger plunged deep inside you and simultaneously began to suck on your clit. Your body became tense; you were right on the edge of your orgasm, but he moved away from your aching cunt to quickly kiss his way up your flushed body, to reach your lips. 

“I wanna come,” you pleaded quietly, staring profoundly into his greedy eyes. 

He chuckled playfully at you and slowly pushed a second finger inside you. His breath fanned over your lips and you traced the slick of your pussy on his smug mouth with your eyes. He stroked your walls slowly, skilfully pressing the pads of his fingers into the sensitive depths of your cunt. You clamped down in desperation for him to press over and over into your g-spot, but he wasn’t merciful. He wanted you to feel the length of his fingers moving deeply inside you. 

“Say my name,” he murmured against your lips. You squeezed his hips with your knees as you squirmed restlessly. Again, he made you delirious with pleasure after a request so you could do anything but properly think. He angled his fingers into that delicious spot inside you, but the buildup of your climax was as torturously slow as the stroke of his fingers. 

“Your name?” You gasped mindlessly, closing your eyes to focus on feeling him being in all the right places. His lips brushed against yours, ignited your body like a spark to hot-wire a car. His thumb pressed gently into your clit and he slowly drew circles. 

“Dean,” he whispered bewitchingly against your lips. You felt his arm press into the pillow beside your head and he tenderly brushed your hair away from your neck. 

“Dean,” you moaned—begged, heart hammering in your chest at his tenderness. His response was instant, with his lips pressed against yours, numbing your mind once more, but a third finger slid into your pussy so you nearly toppled off the edge again. After a few thrusts that left you moaning wantonly against Dean’s mouth, his fingers disappeared from inside you. “God,” you cursed in irritation.

Soon, the entirety of his warmth was gone from your body. His bruising kiss left you breathless and thoughtless, but you managed to open your eyes to watch him lower his boxers with his thumb hooked at the stretchy waistband—leaving himself completely bare again. 

Dean bit his lip as he stroked his cock with his fingers coated in your slick. He seemed more than happy to have you watch. And you were more than happy with staring at the girth and length of him in his hand. His cock was pretty, beautiful even—if you could even imagine. Throbbing. Leaking precum at the tip so your mouth watered for a lewd long moment. You bit your lip and wondered what he tasted like—hopefully as good as he looked, how he’d fuck your mouth if you asked him to.

The sight of him like this made your arousal skyrocket. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He asked breathlessly, slowly making his way closer between your legs. 

The thought of his cock stretching you out instantly drove you crazy. 

Once he was close enough, he leaned over you again with his arm beside your head again. He slid his hot cock through your folds and your breath caught in your throat. He moaned softly. You tore your eyes from where he coated you in his precum repeatedly. 

“I want you… inside me,” you replied bashfully, heat flared up to your ears and you squirmed involuntarily—desperate to be fucked as you ruined the sheets beneath you with your slick. But over and over he teased your clit with slippery circles of his tip that began to build your resolve. He wasn’t going to let you finish and you knew it. 

“Which part of me?” Of course he’d do that. 

You became frustrated quickly and remained quiet to think of your next move. Dean had taken you to a point where your confidence was merely pent up sexual frustration.

You sat up and climbed into his lap without a single thought. As shamelessly as he’d touched you, you gripped the base of his cock. His lips parted and his eyes widened in pleasant surprise when you took his chin between your fingers and kissed him hard. He gave you full control and released his dick so his hands could find your hips instead and pull you closer. 

He felt heavy in your hand, the throb and heat of him made your grip tighten in anticipation. He moaned against your mouth when you slowly stroked up his silky skin, slick with his precum. You thumbed at the slit, smeared his excitement around the head of his cock, and sucked his bottom lip into your mouth.

Dean groaned softly and squeezed your hip. He slowly let himself lay on his back and pulled you down with your lips still locked in a breathy and covetous kiss. You twisted your hand upwards, faster, and emphasised the movement of your fingers beneath the head of his cock. He pulled away slightly with a gasp and found his place between your legs to run a teasing finger through your drenched folds. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard… wanna bury myself inside of you,” he murmured against your lips. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped instantly against his parted mouth, “yes.”

Dean kissed you hard and replaced your hand on his cock with his own again. He pulled away to catch his breath with you. Using his other hand, he brushed your hair out of the way and continued to pant for breath. He watched between your bodies, his throbbing cock in his hand, but you only watched him—curiously and longingly. He stroked himself slowly and he cursed under his breath when the tip finally breached the wet opening of your vagina.

Your breath hitched, but his name managed to slip out quietly. He hummed in satisfaction when you slowly lowered yourself on him. The delightful stretch of having him inside you weakened your knees and your pussy tightened around him. He thrusted upwards slowly, sliding his cock further into your wet heat, perfectly stroking your g-spot.

You pulled away a small distance and watched him become utterly enraptured. His freckled cheeks were tainted a deep red that spread up to the tips of his ears and down to his neck like a wildfire. He looked so fucking beautiful. His brows furrowed in concentration and his plush lips parted to release soft groans of pleasure that made your pussy throb around him greedily. 

His eyes fluttered open and he leaned up slightly to reach your lips. He managed to land a small peck before you started lifting yourself up and down on his cock. A broken moan from him made you smile devilishly. He fell back into the mattress and squeezed your hips roughly.

“Dammit, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he praised breathily. You hummed softly and wrapped your hands around his wrists to guide his hands up to your breasts before bouncing on his lap faster, building a more steadfast rhythm. 

“I love the way you feel, too,” you moaned softly, aroused at the sound of Dean’s cock entering your wet pussy and your skin hitting his when he was buried so deeply inside you the breath was nearly punched out of your lungs in surprise. 

“You’re so unbelievably beautiful,” he continued to worship quietly, pinching almost painfully at your nipples, then teasingly brushed the pads of his thumbs over them—maybe soothingly. You moaned and leaned back with your hands on his thighs the closer you got to your orgasm.

One of Dean’s hands moved away from your breast to slowly slide down the front of your body. You watched him stare up at you, adoring you with his touch and lauding you in between groans and gasps of ecstasy. He squeezed your thigh encouragingly and cursed at the way you clenched your cunt around his sensitive cock. 

You allowed yourself to close your eyes and let the pleasure of riding him saturate your mind and body. His hands moved along your body, praising without words when all he could do was groan and pant lewdly at your enthusiastic fucking. 

He kneaded your breasts, squeezed your flesh, scratched gently at your skin. You were teeming with bliss and you were embarrassingly wet, but everything about him made you pathetically horny and he appeared to absolutely love every second of it. 

Dean’s hand finally moved between your legs to find your clit and rub it continuously. His hips bucked upwards when you whined his name and clamped down on his cock as you orgasmed. Your body shook above him and he hummed low in his throat, partially amused, but mostly satisfied. 

His thumb rubbed furiously at your clit—dilating the duration of your orgasm, intensifying it—and only stopped when you couldn’t handle it anymore. Your whimper and the way you weakly draped your body over his with your forehead pressed into his warm shoulder, stopped him.

You couldn’t process much after that, but soon your face was pressed into his pillow and your pussy was getting filled again with his cock. His fingers bruised your hips and you gasped out moans as your second orgasm began to build. 

"Shit, you love it like this, don't you, sweetheart?" You were flustered by the soppy sound of your cunt every time he pounded into you from behind, but you were partially grateful that he was close to finishing. A perplexing, carnal part of you wanted him to keep ploughing into your pussy until you ached.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” Dean praised gruffly. You only whimpered brokenly in response as he fucked you through the squelch and wetness of your second orgasm. Your toes curled with the unbelievable sensation that seized your body when you felt his cum fill you with warmth. His release slipped between your thighs in a mixture with yours and you cried his name as your walls pulsed around his throbbing cock. 

Dean released you and your body sank completely into the soft mattress. He panted against your shoulder and murmured praises with his comforting hands sailing along your body. 

Your mind slowly returned to the real world and the beat of your heart slowed to its normal rhythm. You were exhausted and you wanted to clean yourself up, but Dean had other plans for you: staying in bed and cuddling.

You willed yourself into getting up out of his bed. You sat up—his arm loosely around your waist—and became aware of the lack of windows and the wooden stake that rested at the far end of the little platform—a shelf really—he had above his bed next to a little fan. 

“Um…” you trailed off, wiggling out of his arm to slide out of the messy bed. 

“You’re seriously not gonna stay in bed?” He questioned you as you looked around, attempting to ignore the rest of your mixed release dripping from between your legs. You felt his fingers move between yours, then a sharp tug pulled you back in bed. Your legs were shaky so you ended up right back where he wanted you to be—in his embrace. 

“Yeah,” you laughed awkwardly. You squirmed and wiggled until he finally released you, “I don’t know you and I need to… get back… somewhere, home.” He sat up on his side and stared at you blankly for a few seconds. No, he’s too beautiful. 

You looked away and decided to pull “your” clothes from where he’d thrown it to get something to cover your body now that your post-orgasmic brain was becoming logical and self-conscious. 

“Babe, drop it, we’ll play that game later,” he dismissed you with a cute snort. You groaned at him when he snagged his shirt from your hands. He slowly peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder and you were unable to fight him.

“Dean, I’m serious,” you tried weakly and gripped his hair to pull him away as gently as you could. You turned to look at him again and he backed off. “Look at me and tell me if I’m lying to you.” He rolled his eyes but held your gaze for a few moments as he contemplated you. 

You saw the amusement on his handsome face but you continued to frown. The amusement faded into perplexity and concern. 

“Ah, shit,” he muttered.

—> stone flower

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[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

It’s Not A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Fluff, Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems.

Word Count: 3.1K (I promise I didn't mean for it to happen)

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. There is some swearing (only a few times), Heated Kiss, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex/Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning).

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

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A/N: Okay I know that I should be working on my other fics, but I had this idea after reading an INCREDIBLE fic by @justagirlinafandomworld called "Stranded" for @jacklesversebingo and I couldn't help myself.

Sam squeals the car into the parking lot of the motel so loud that Dean and you can hear the high pitched scream of rubber on asphalt from your room on the second level.

"If he ruins those tires he's going to pay for them." Dean grumbles under his breath from where he sits at the small wooden table under the window, wiping down his gun with a clean rag. The sunlight that came streaming through dramatized the sharp angles of his jaw and the soft sleepy strands of his hair that still stuck up from when he woke up an hour ago.

"I don't know what his hurry is." You don’t look up from the worn paperback perched in your lap, gently turning the page. "If he's that eager to get back here to tell us something he should have just called."

“Maybe there was a sample sale on hair gel.” Dean laughs at his own joke and you can sense him look up from the gun to try and catch your eye, but you don't raise your gaze from the text.

“That’s pretty brave coming from someone who owns 90% of the products in that bathroom.”

“What? I do not-“

“Really? If I walk in there right now there won’t be seven different half-used deodorant sticks?”

“They’re different smells." Dean says defensively. "And shut up. I don’t comment on how many books you bring with you. Don’t know why you need to shove a million in your bag and then just buy one while you’re here.”

“Because I might not feel like reading the ones I bring. I might want to try something new. And this book,” You wave the book in your hand for emphasis. “Is very good and I don’t have it back at the bunker, and it was only two bucks!"

“But the others ones might be good too. You don’t know.” Dean sighs, looking at you like you're insane. "You just let them sit and rot in your suitcase."

Today was the last day that you would be staying in Louis, Illinois. The current case that the three of you had been working on together had been solved, which meant that the townsfolk were no longer dealing with a zombie outbreak and you were at peace to settle down on your pull out bed with a good book, taking a few moments for yourself.

You desperately needed at least five, but you also wished that you were already back in your room at the bunker.

The bed there didn't have as many springs that stuck into your back at odd angles and didn't squeak whenever you moved an inch. Your inability to find a comfortable position meant that the mattress squeaked all night long and Dean had thrown his pillow at you to make it stop. He hadn’t been pleased when you returned it back to him. Then again, you had hit him in the face with it as hard as you could when you did.

And like hell you were going to give Dean Winchester the satisfaction of sleeping in bed with him. You’d had to do that one time on a hunt where there were no extra rooms and Dean refused to let you sleep on the floor or in his car. He said that you might make it spontaneously combust.  So you'd shared the bed and learned that he was the biggest blanket hog you’d ever met, not to mention when you woke up he was spooning you and you couldn’t be certain, but you thought he had tried to cop a feel at least once.

If anything you’d maybe sleep in Sam’s bed, but the guy was so much bigger than you he took up most of the space, so you were stuck with the pull out couch.

You couldn't wait to be home. You liked going out on cases, but you liked that you had a home now, a space that was only yours, and someplace where you could shut yourself away from the world. And most importantly, away from Dean Winchester, who had been the bane of your existence since the night you met him for the first time.

Of course this wasn't too bad either. Taking a few moments of quiet for yourself while Dean cleaned his guns and sorted some of his tools in his duffle. The two of you were getting more comfortable around one another. When you’d first met there had been a lot of screaming and several "she's not going to be there is she?" and "what the hell is she doing here?" questions that Dean moaned to Sam over and over the more the three of you teamed up.

You weren't used to working with other people, well, now you were,  but before it had just been you and the endless road. But as it began to happen more and more you tried to fit comfortably into the swing of things. Dean and you would occasionally bump heads, but it happened less now than it did before. After five years you'd hoped that the two of you could be more civilized, for Sam's sake at least.

Sam and you got along much better. You didn't understand what Dean's problem was with you, or why he hated you so much. He was always correcting you, insulting you, and snatching things away from you as if you hadn't been hunting your entire life. Occasionally it wasn't that bad, like right now, but it had been much worse a few years ago.

When you'd met Dean you'd hated him, thought he was a dick, but the more the two of you spent time together on cases the more you saw that he did those things to hide what he was feeling and the more you saw how big his heart was.

You believed that your relationship now with him had progressed to a sort of symbiotic relationship, but honestly it was more like passive aggressive roommates who fight over whose turn it is to clean the dishes.

Dean still tended to get high and mighty sometimes and annoyed you without end, but you stuck around and in Sam's words "bickered like an old couple."

Sam had gone to grab some snacks and fill the tank at the gas station down the street twenty minutes ago, leaving with a joyful "Don't kill each other."

So far there were no casualties, but apart of you itched to beam Dean in the back of the head with the paperback just for a little bit of excitement.

Sam bursts into the room out of breath. "Okay I-"

"Where's the fire Sammy?" Dean sighs looking up from his gun.

"I ran into someone when I was at the gas station." Sam says it all together, as if it's one sentence.

"And?" You move your hand in a come on gesture hoping that Sam will get to the point.

"Well he's- he's-"

The man that pushes into the room past Sam is not Dean, he looks like him, but that's not why he's so familiar. He's muscular with dark brown hair that hangs a little longer than Dean's, over the top of his ears, while a few strands fall forward on his forehead. He's allowed a dark beard to cover his cheeks, but his eyes are the same piercing green that they were the last time you saw him. And if that wasn't enough for you to recognize him, the dark green superhero suit would be a dead giveaway.

Oh shit.

"Ben?" You drop your book onto the thick carpeted floor in surprise.

Two months ago you had been unwillingly transported to another reality, a reality where superheroes were real, people had powers, and where you met a version of Dean that you actually got along with better than the Dean in your reality.

You hadn't told Sam or Dean what happened between Ben and you. You weren't about to admit out loud that you actually got along with another version of Dean or admit that you found the other version of Dean aka Ben, attractive. So attractive in fact that you had spent a good amount of the time in the other universe in bed with him before you came back to your reality.

Ben doesn't respond, instead he crosses the room in several powerful strides, and hauls you up off the pull out couch.

"What are you-"

One of his hands tangles in the back of your hair, pulling your mouth against his in a furious kiss that steals your breath away and silences whatever you were going to say next. A part of you registers that Dean and Sam are still in the room, but it's quickly swept away by how it feels to kiss Ben. You hadn't forgotten him, anything but that. Sometimes you actually kind of missed him, when you were lonely or when the Dean from your universe annoyed you too much. Because Ben annoyed you too, but at least at the end of it there was a way to relieve the tension. With Dean the only place you put all your frustration was into the hunt and there were only so many times you could bash a Djinn’s head in.

Ben's tongue brushes against your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you let him in, bringing your hands up to the back of his neck to thread into the long strands of his hair. The strands fall between your fingertips, feathering out from your grip. You moan softly into his mouth as he deepens the kiss, feeling the familiar scratch of his beard against your cheeks, and feel his hand begin to slip down your back to rest on the curve of your ass.

Well, he certainly hasn't changed.

"Fuck I missed you sweetheart." Ben murmurs against your mouth squeezing your butt to emphasize the point. "You and this sexy fucking body."

"Ben." You roll your eyes with a snort.

"What? You didn't miss me?" He raises an eyebrow, forcing his mouth into an attractive pout. "Because you certainly seemed happy to see me a second ago." His free hand gently traces your plump lower lip with the pad of your thumb.

"I did and I am happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

"Thought so." Ben leans his head back down towards yours, ignoring your question as he tries to kiss you again, but before he can Dean interrupts.

"What the fuck is going on?" Dean shouts, standing from the table under the window, and points his gun at Ben's unprotected back. "Who the fuck are you?"

Ben half turns over his shoulder eyes flicking from the gun to Dean with a sigh. "Look the only thing that's gonna do is piss me off. And you don't want that kid."

Dean makes a face. "Who the hell are you calling kid?"

"Now why don't you two fuck off for a few hours, let me give her a proper hello." Ben turns his dark eyes back on you, cupping your chin in his large hand.

"Y/n? You want to tell us what's happening? Or who this guy is?" Sam asks, but you can't look away from Ben.

You really had missed him. Ben was even more attractive than you remembered. The day that you'd left his universe, Ben had asked you to stay, well, had asked you in his own way. He'd said that he wasn't done with you and if you had stayed he would have made it worth your while. But you had to come back. You weren’t sure how Dean and Sam would survive without you and also because the universe that Ben inhabited was more terrifying than yours, and that was saying something, given that you dealt with demons on a daily basis.

"Guys this is Ben." You clear your throat. "Ben this is Dean and Sam."

"Ben as in Soldier Boy? From the fucked up reality with the people with superpowers Ben?" Dean sputters. He lowered the gun slightly, but he's still looking from Ben to you like he's just walked in on his parents making out.

"Yes." You say it slowly, trying to find a way out, but there really isn't any way to hide this.

It's not that big a deal, is it?

Ben releases you and turns to look at Dean, eyes skating over his body. "So that's Dean?" He tilts his head to the side. "Kinda scrawny. The way you described him made me think he'd look a little more like a man and less like a fucking pussy."

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Dean takes a step towards Ben, holding his gun steady out from his chest. You noticed that Dean did try to puff it out more after Ben's insult.

"You heard me." Ben smirks, welcoming the challenge.

"Whoa!" You step between them. "Calm down ladies there's enough Prada to go around at this sample sale."

Ben's eyes narrow in confusion at your comment, but he doesn't back down from Dean.

"I'd say that you left a few details out of your trip!" Dean shouts looking from Ben to you in disgust. "Did you sleep with me?"

"What?" You look at him like he’s crazy.

What does he mean?

"You, and him." Dean gestures wildly with the gun. "Did you sleep with me?"

"What are you talking about? No I didn't sleep with you, I slept with him and it was only once!" You shout back.

Ben clears his throat.

"Fine. A few times.” You correct with a sigh.

“But- you- him-“ Dean’s head turns from Ben to you. “Him- you-.”

“Yeah. Me and her fucked.” Ben says it slowly like Dean is a child.

Honestly he was acting a little bit like a child.

Sam is holding back his laughter behind a hand while Dean’s eye begins to twitch aggressively.

This is exactly why I didn’t tell him. They aren’t the same person! Dean is Dean and Ben is Ben. Someone who shares the same face. And probably the same other things that I’m not going to think about right now because that seems crazy.

"How many times is a few?” Dean demands.

"Why does that matter?”

"HOW MANY?" He shouts so loud that you think the people in the next room over were probably having a wonderful time listening to this soap opera.

Because it kinda did sound like one right? The main character never gets along with someone and then gets transported to another reality through a colorful portal and immediately clicks with another version of him. And-

Maybe I need to rethink my life.

"Well..." Your face scrunched up trying to count exactly how many times that you and Ben had sex. It was difficult. Not that it was hard to remember, you knew that you weren’t going to forget it anytime soon, but just the amount of times the two of you were together was more than you could count on your fingers.

"Well what? You were there for five days!"

"I mean..." You shrug.

“Why?” Dean groans pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to scrub the images from his brain.

Honestly, if he’d told you that he had sex with another version of you, you probably would have had the same reaction, but you were not about to admit that to Dean Winchester of all people.

He’s not gonna win this argument. Especially not when he's waving his gun around like a psychopath.

“Because he's-“ You  glance over at Ben who winks at you. “I don’t know. He’s just kinda-.”

“Everything you’re not.” Ben raises his eyebrow at Dean.

“Sammy you gonna weigh in on this?” You look at Sam expectantly hoping that he can jolt Dean out of the never ending loop he seemed to be stuck in.

“Nope. I’m staying out of it.” Sam holds his hands up in surrender.

“I cannot believe you slept with me!” Dean shouts again.

“Stop saying that! I didn’t sleep with you! I slept with him. Can we please move on-“ You groan.

"Same thing!"

"What? How is it the same thing?” You plant your hands on your hips glaring at Dean.

"He's me from another universe!" Dean is gesturing wildly with his gun now. “How would you feel if I slept with an alternate version of you?”

“It’s completely different!”

“How?”

“They aren’t us!”

“He sure as hell looks like me!" Dean snaps back. "What did you close your eyes the whole time or something?"

Your cheeks flare bright red with Dean's question. "No I didn't!"

“And I don’t look like you.” Ben grunts crossing his arms over his chest and giving Dean a once over again.

“He also doesn’t act like you.” You add.

It was true, Ben didn’t. And for some reason you got along with him more. You didn’t understand what Dean’s problem was, but for the better part of five years he’d been treating you like you hadn’t been hunting your whole life. Not to mention the first three years were spent with Dean barely saying two words to you without some kind of insult attached.

“That’s beside the point!”

“How is that beside the point?” You demand.

“I can’t believe you did this!”

"I didn't kill anyone Dean. I didn't torture any babies or kill any puppies. We are consenting adults! We had sex-"

“No no no!” Dean puts his fingers in his ears. “Lalalalala.” He sings to himself to avoid the image.

"And we're gonna have it again. So the two of you should clear out, unless you're in to that kind of thing Deanie.” Ben wraps his arm around your shoulders to pull you into him, but you don’t take your eyes off of Dean.

“Fuck I’m gonna need so much therapy after this” Dean groans putting the gun down on the table. Which was a good sign because now you weren’t worried that he would accidentally shoot Sam in the foot.

“Really? After everything you’ve gone through that’s what pushes you over the edge?” You ask him in shock.

“Yes. Are you happy? You’ve driven me to the point of insanity!” Dean snaps.

"You're acting like a child."

"I am not! I am having a completely normal reaction to finding out you slept with Wannabe Captain America!” Dean gestures to all of Ben who looks at Dean like he can’t tell if it’s an insult or not. 

You take in a deep breath to calm your racing heart. “Why are you so upset that I slept with him Dean? I don’t understand how this is so earth shattering to you that two people had sex! You have sex with people all the time-“

“Not with you!”He snaps back, but then clears his throat when he realized what he just said.

“He is not YOU!” You shout rolling your eyes for the millionth time. At the rate he was going, you were sure they were going to roll out of your head. 

“As important as this conversation is… can we maybe put a pin in it and go back to why he’s here?” Sam asks diplomatically.

“No-“ Dean says at the same time you say.

“Yes! Ben why are you here?”

“Don’t really know.” He shrugs taking a long hit from a joint that seemed to materialize out of thin air, while tightening his arm over your shoulders. “All I know was that I was fighting Homelander and someone hit me from behind. Then I ended up here.” Ben’s eyes trace your body. “But I’m not complaining, especially not because I got to see you again doll.” He winks.

“Homelander?” Dean repeats. “That is the stupidest hero name I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

“He’s anything but a hero.” You fight the shudder from the last time you ran in to him. “Think about Superman if Superman was a narcissistic sadist with a massive inferiority complex, no weakness, and an obsession with perfect hair.”

Dean looks Ben up and down with a heavy sigh. “I’m disappointed that I couldn’t have at least been a bit more like Batman.”

“Trust me. You don’t want to meet knockoff Batman from his reality either.” You respond.

"I guess I'll start doing some research." Sam says slowly, looking from Ben to you while hiding a smile.

He’s enjoying this way too much.

"Good." Dean frowns at Ben, before he claps him hard on the shoulder. You saw Dean fight the wince when he felt how solid Ben was. "Let's get you home buddy." His eyes dart from Ben to you. "Before you do anything else that'll scar me for life."

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are not required, but are always appreciated! 😊

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester

[fatecantstopme]

Hello! How are you today? I hope you are doing well today! I have read your stories well mostly of Dean and I fall in love with them! Your stories are just French kisses!! I was wondering if you are okay the the idea or available in Season 10 ep 1-3 Dean is the knight of hell but instead of Sam who found him, it has his wife or fiance reader? He doesn't harm her at all but all he wants to do is trap her and rail her all long day and night he willingly goes with her to the bunker. Something like that, I'm very sorry if it's accurate could it but smut and fluff if it's okay with you? If not that okie! Don't worry! I love your stories and Keep up on doing what you do best! Thank you and have a wonderful day!!

OMG STAHHHP. You're so sweet. I'm glad you like my writing--I love doing it! AND I LOVE THIS ASK SO FREAKING MUCH. I love you for giving me the opportunity to write Dean in the most dominating, degrading, aggressive way possible without feeling bad for making him like that. I love my soft!dom Dean...but I am so freaking into this...HOPE YOU LOVE IT!

Fiend

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x wife!reader

Summary: I mean...just read the lovely anon's request. So gooooood.

Warnings: An unnecessary amount of SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), choking, slight degradation, rough sex, oral (M & F receiving), face sitting, orgasm denial, Dean is very dominant. Cursing, canon violence, Mark of Cain bloodlust, use of pet names, slight domestic violence.

A/N: I 100% went overboard on this one and I have no regrets. Fair warning, it's insanely long. It doesn't follow the season 10 storyline perfectly, but we've got the core elements.

"Are you sure about this?" you asked softly.

Sam stared at you, a familiar dark expression on his face. "Do you want to find him or not?"

You closed your eyes and sighed quietly. Of course you did, but you didn't want to lose who you were along the way. "You know I do, but torture's not exactly my thing."

"It's a demon."

"Wearing an innocent woman."

"Fine. You stay out here, then."

You watched Sam enter the dungeon, clearly prepared to do whatever it took to find his brother. The first scream echoed through the hallway and straight into your chest like a knife. You couldn't stay there--didn't wanna hear what happened next.

You went as far away as you could, walking past the bedroom you hadn't entered since the night he'd died. Sam had been the one to discover he was gone--Sam had been the one who found his note. You'd cried yourself to sleep on the couch in the library, heart too broken to even move.

The next morning, you woke to Sam's shouts of your name, but nothing would prepare you for what happened next. Sam's frightened eyes met yours and all he said was "He's gone," before handing you a note.

It was Dean's handwriting. You were sure of it. All it said was "(Y/N), Sammy, let me go."

That was six weeks ago.

Simple as the request was, it wasn't something either you or Sam could do, nor could Castiel. The three of you loved that man too much to just let him go.

At this point, all you knew was Dean was gone and Crowley was with him. Dean's handwriting on the note was the only indicator he wasn't dead...but you'd watched him die. You'd held him in your arms. The only possible answer was that Crowley had gotten a demon to possess Dean's body and rode off into the sunset with him. What you didn't know was why.

**********

Torturing the demon hadn't exactly proven fruitful, but Sam did manage to find a case he thought was connected to Dean. He was convinced the death of a man named Drew Neely was related to demons--and possibly to the missing Winchester.

While it seemed like quite a stretch to you, you were willing to go with him to Wisconsin and find out what happened.

As per usual, you and Sam pretended to be FBI to get inside information on the investigation. Much to your surprise, when the local PD showed you and Sam security footage from the gas station where Drew Neely was murdered, you saw a very familiar face.

You'd know him anywhere--Dean Winchester, seemingly alive and well, being attacked by Drew Neely. You watched as Dean pulled the First Blade from inside his jacket and stabbed Neely repeatedly. As the other man died violently, you watched in horror as Dean's normally beautiful green eyes turned black as night.

You looked up at Sam, whose expression matched your own. It looked like Sam's suspicions were correct--Dean was in fact possessed by a demon. Your only thought was saving him, even though you knew you'd really only be saving his body. You'd be damned if you let some demon scum ride around in Dean's body forever.

When you left the station, Sam turned to you, eyes full of a mixture of sorrow and anger. "Wanna go to the gas station? See if there's anything there?"

You nodded, still a little too upset to do much talking. Sam placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. He knew full-well how difficult this whole thing was for you. This wasn't Sam's first experience with his brother's death, but it was a first for you. He could tell the loss was killing you slowly, especially with Dean's body being defiled by some demon asshole.

When you arrived at the gas station, you were both surprised when the clerk handed you Neely's phone. You wondered why he hadn't given it over to the police, but at the moment, you couldn't be bothered to care. You wanted answers and this phone might be the key.

"There's a text from a number not saved in the contacts," Sam said as he scrolled through the phone's contents.

You leaned forward to look at the screen. "An Abbadon loyalist," you mumbled. "Lovely. But who the hell told Neely Dean was even here?"

Sam shrugged as he pressed the call button, dialing the number on the screen. "Only one way to find out."

When the voice on the other end of the phone answered, the rage that had been simmering inside of you for 6 weeks finally overflowed. "Crowley, you son of a bitch!" you yelled.

The chuckle on the other end did nothing to ease your anger. "Well hello (Y/N). I was wondering when I'd hear from you. Can I assume your avenging Moose is there too?"

You were about to tear into Crowley, but Sam placed a firm hand on your shoulder and shook his head. You clamped your mouth shut so tightly your jaw began to ache.

"Where the hell is my brother, you son of a bitch?"

"Maybe if you were nicer to me, I'd help you."

"Why don't you just start by telling us why you sent an Abbadon loyalist after Dean in the first place?" you growled.

"How else was I supposed to keep the bloodlust at bay? The Mark wants what the Mark wants."

You inhaled sharply, the ache in your chest intensifying at his words. Even in death, the damn Mark of Cain was still torturing Dean.

"Where are you?" Sam tried again.

"Oh please, Samuel, as if I'm going to tell you. Your brother and I are having a grand ol' time together. I quite like this version of him. I'm sure you and (Y/N) are jealous over our new relationship, but I simply can't be bothered to care."

"If Dean wasn't possessed, there's no way he'd be with you," you seethed.

Crowley's laughter echoed through the phone, sending cold shivers down your back. "You think he's possessed? That's not how the Mark works, sweetheart."

The condescension in his tone made you want to crawl through the phone and rip his throat out, but you managed to bite your tongue.

"The Mark twists the soul--darkening it with each kill--until all that remains is darkness," Crowley gloated. "So you see, Dean isn't possessed by a demon, he is one. Not just any demon either—a knight of hell."

You took a step back, suddenly feeling incredibly nauseous. Out of all the scenarios that had run through your mind when Dean went missing, this wasn't one of them. There was no worse way to dishonor his memory--his legacy--than this.

You vaguely heard Sam yelling into the phone, but your mind was spinning too quickly for you to comprehend a single word. Your entire world had just been tipped on its head and you weren't sure how to find solid ground again.

You doubled over, breath coming out in painful heaves. Bile rose in the back of your throat and you found yourself hurling the limited amount of food you'd eaten all over the sidewalk.

You felt Sam's strong, comforting hand on your back as he tried to calm you. After several more dry heaves, you managed to stand back up, eyes bloodshot from the exertion.

Sam's gaze was gentle, but you could see the pain in his eyes. As much as you loved Dean, you knew Sam loved him just as much. You couldn't afford to break down now--not when the two people you loved most in this world needed you.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"No need to apologize, (Y/N/N). This is a lot to take in."

You simply nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

"I think I know how to find them."

Your head snapped up, meeting Sam's gaze with hope for the first time in weeks. "How?"

"I think I can track Crowley's phone."

You shot Sam a weak grin. "Thank god you're a genius. Let's go."

Before heading to Crowley's last known location, you and Sam discussed your findings thus far. You now knew Dean wasn't technically dead--which meant there was a slight chance you could use the ritual you'd tried on Crowley over a year ago.

There was a chance you could make Dean human again--and it was a risk you were more than willing to make. Knowing Dean was still in there--still alive--made you more reckless than you'd ever been. You were determined to bring him home, no matter the cost.

**********

You and Sam decided to split up, determining you had more of a shot at bringing Dean home that way. Sam went one route and you went the other, stealing a car to make your journey.

You didn’t realize it, but this decision would result in a cascade of events that would put you right in the crosshairs of the demon your husband had become—alone.

As you sped along the dark highway towards the Black Spur, you were left with nothing to do but listen to the thoughts swirling around your mind. Without Sam there to keep you occupied, your inner turmoil had begun to rear its ugly head.

Out of all the things you’d expected to happen when Dean died, becoming a demon had not been among them. Being possessed was one thing—being a demon was another thing entirely.

You knew exactly how Dean would feel about it, if he’d actually had the ability to feel, and it broke your heart. He was the strongest man you’d ever known, but this would break him. Even worse, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what you would feel when you found him.

You loved Dean Winchester with every part of your soul. He was your best friend, your lover, your partner, your husband. He was the man who never failed to make you laugh or bring a smile to your face. He held you when you cried, took care of you when you were hurt, and made love to you like you were the only thing tethering him to earth. But you knew that man was gone—all that remained was the beautiful body that once held the most incredible soul you’d ever known.

You felt the tears well up in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Crying wouldn’t fix things and you’d done more than enough of that in the last month. Instead, you focused on what you were going to do when you found Dean.

You had no idea how you were going to convince him to come back to the bunker with you. You weren’t even sure he wouldn’t kill you if you tried to force him. You’d come prepared, but you would die before killing him. End of the day, he was Dean—somewhere inside him was the man you loved.

Part of you hoped Sammy would get there first—that he’d be the one to find Dean. Then he’d be faced with the decision of what to do next, sparing you the pain. You knew that wasn’t fair, but if you were being honest, you didn’t trust yourself to do this alone. One single look at his face could very well be your undoing.

You sighed quietly and glanced at your GPS. Only a couple hours to go before you would find out for yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam had managed to get himself kidnapped when his car broke down on the way to the Black Spur, which meant he most definitely would not be beating you there. Unfortunately for you, that meant confronting Dean would be entirely on your shoulders--a weight you certainly didn't wish to carry.

**********

A few hours later, you arrived at the Black Spur, unsurprised and maybe a bit relieved to see that Dean was no longer there. You talked to the bouncer Dean had beat the shit out of the night before, so you knew you weren't very far behind him.

What you didn't know was Crowley and Dean had a rather intense falling out due to Dean's ever-growing aggressive behavior and complete and utter lack of respect for Crowley.

After leaving the Black Spur, you decided to stop at a motel, get some sleep, and wait for Sam. You'd tried calling him to no avail and you were starting to worry, but you knew Sam could take care of himself.

You'd just managed to fall asleep when your phone rang. It was Sam.

"Everything alright?" you asked.

"Got kidnapped by some guy named Cole."

"Sorry, what?"

"Apparently Dean killed his dad when he was a teenager and now he wants revenge. He kidnapped me hoping I would tell him where Dean was. He admitted he was trying to get us both, but he hadn't expected us to split up."

"Great. Just what we need. Some random human hunting the best hunter-turned-demon in history."

Sam sighed his agreement. "Cole called Dean...and he actually answered."

"What?!"

"Told him he'd kill me if Dean didn't give himself up."

You paused for a moment, breath caught in your chest. "And?"

"He refused. Told Cole he'd given me explicit instructions to let him go--and it was my fault for not listening to him," Sam said with a huff. "Then he told Cole if he killed me, he'd hunt him down and kill him."

You chuckled dryly. "That actually sounds like Dean."

Sam chuckled softly with you. "Yeah...it does."

You could hear the sorrow in his voice and you knew it matched your own. Seeing even the slightest sliver of your Dean in this demon version was beyond painful.

"I managed to get away while he was distracted. I'm on my way to the Black Spur now," Sam said after a few moments.

"He's not here. I've looked."

You could almost hear Sam's chest deflate as the hope left him. "Any sign of where they might've gone next?"

"No," you answered softly. "And Crowley turned his damn phone off."

Sam sighed heavily. "We'll find him, (Y/N)."

You wanted to believe him--wanted to have that kind of faith, but you'd lost steam. There wasn't a trail to follow, and even if there was, you weren't sure you should follow it. Dean had left Sam to die all because he'd ignored Dean's instructions. What would he do to you if you found him?

You ignored the tightening in your chest, pushing down your emotions as deeply as you could before wrapping up your call. You told Sam what motel you were in and that you'd see him in a couple hours.

You'd just laid back down when there was a knock at your door. You grabbed your gun and slipped an angel blade into the waistband of your pants before moving towards the door. When you looked through the peephole, your eyes nearly popped out of your skull.

You ripped open the door with surprising force, angel blade pointing at the visitor's throat.

"Watch where you're pointing that thing," Crowley grumbled.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

"Because I know where your husband is."

Your expression softened slightly, but the blade remained pressed to his neck. "Are you going to tell me or do I need to beat it out of you."

Crowley laughed mirthlessly. "Oh please, (Y/N). We all know you aren't capable of torture."

He was right, of course, but you would never admit it. Instead, you narrowed your eyes and pressed the blade a little more firmly into his skin.

The demon winced and threw up his hands in surrender. "Fine! I'll tell you. Just put that thing down."

You remained still for a moment before stepping back and allowing him entry into your room. You closed the door behind him, keeping the blade securely in your hand. "Talk."

"It's more that I know how to find him and less that I know where he is."

You clenched your jaw, feeling the simmering rage begin to boil. "This entire thing is your fault, Crowley, so if you want to stay alive, I suggest you speak plainly."

"We're not exactly on good terms at the moment."

Your eyes scanned his face and a small smirk appeared on yours. "He get tired of you?"

Crowley's eyes narrowed. "We had a disagreement over how to handle his bloodlust. Plus, he's even more arrogant than he was as a human."

Your heart clenched at the word 'bloodlust'. You'd hoped it had subsided in his death, but that damn Mark wouldn't quit until it took every last vestige of humanity left in Dean.

"Fine, so he left your ass in the dust. How do you plan to find him?"

"I have several demons watching his every move. I can't have him making too much of a mess. His type of chaos is bad for business."

"Then make a call and tell me where he is."

"Happily," Crowley paused. "On one condition."

"There it is," you grumbled.

"It's a simple request, really. All I want in return is the First Blade."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons, and I'm quite certain you don't want it in Dean's hands."

You thought about it for a few moments. "If you screw me over, I will burn your sordid kingdom to the ground around you before killing you in the most painful way possible."

Crowley almost seemed impressed. "I think you've spent a little too much time with Dean."

"Not nearly enough," you mumbled under your breath. "Do we have an understanding?"

"I tell you where to find Dean, you give me the Blade."

"You take me to Dean, I give you the Blade," you countered.

A look of fear flashed across his face. "I'd really rather not."

"I don't give a damn. You made this mess, so you're gonna help us out of it."

Crowley sighed. "Fine."

You grabbed your phone off the nightstand, but Crowley interrupted you before you could dial.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling Sam."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why the hell not?"

"You will have better luck persuading Dean than Sam will. You've never once betrayed Dean--never let him down. Sam cannot say the same. As such, it's likely Dean will be more likely to have a soft spot for you, even now."

You contemplated his words for several moments, before shaking your head. "Sam's his brother. He needs to know."

Crowley snapped his fingers, sending your phone flying across the room and into the wall with shocking speed, shattering it instantly.

"You son of a bitch!"

"You want my help? We go alone. Sam can catch up."

You glared at him in annoyance, before sighing quietly. "Fine. But I'm driving."

**********

"A piano bar?" you asked in surprise as you parked across the street.

"That's what they said."

Your eyes scanned the street before landing on a familiar black Chevy Impala. Your heart skipped a beat, knowing you were about to come face to face with your worst nightmare.

Crowley's gaze followed yours and he hummed quietly. "As I said, he's here."

"Get out," you hissed. "You're coming in too."

"Pardon?"

"Do you want the Blade, Crowley? Then get out of the damn car."

He huffed, but did as you said. You gestured for him to walk ahead of you, effectively blocking you from sight from the inside of the bar.

The moment Crowley entered, Dean felt his presence. "Didn't expect you to come back," he stated as he sipped some whiskey.

Hearing his voice sent a wave of emotion through your body, having not heard it in weeks.

Dean seemed to realize Crowley wasn't alone and you heard him inhale deeply. "I'd know that scent anywhere." He finally turned around to face the two of you. "(Y/N)."

"Hello Dean," you said softly, a slight blush dusting your cheeks. The idea he could smell you from several feet away was both a reminder of who he'd become, and an uncomfortable turn-on.

Dean glared at Crowley, realizing he had given his location up. Before he could say anything to him, you stepped forward, causing Dean's gaze to snap back to you.

"I suggest you run before I rip your heart out and feed it to you," you growled under your breath, not sparing another look in Crowley’s direction.

Crowley immediately stepped back, exiting the bar as quickly as possible.

"I didn't think you'd be foolish enough to work with Crowley," Dean said lowly.

"Means to an end."

"Hmm." He took a long drink of his whiskey before placing the empty glass on the counter. "I'm surprised you're here alone."

"Glad you asked--Sam's fine. No thanks to you."

Dean's eyes narrowed and he stood up, taking a step towards you. "I gave both of you very explicit instructions to let me go. What happens to you when you disobey is not my fault."

You inhaled sharply, body reacting to his words without approval from your brain. You clenched your jaw, trying to appear calmer than you felt.

Dean had always been extremely perceptive, and his demon abilities only heightened it. He took another predatory step towards you. "I can see your turmoil, sweetheart--you want me and you hate yourself for it."

You scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself--you're not Dean."

He laughed and the sound sent chills down your spine. "That's where you're wrong--I'm 100% Dean, just the new and improved version."

You felt a pang in your chest. "I'll have to disagree on the 'improved' part."

Dean started to slowly circle you, like a predator hunting his prey. "Aren't you the least bit curious, (Y/N)?" Each ring brought him closer and closer to you, until you could feel his body heat enveloping you. "Don't you want to know about all the things I can do now? All the ways I can wreck that pretty little body of yours?"

You felt his breath on the back of your neck--and you were embarrassed when your lips parted and your own breathing sped up.

"I can hear your heart racing, sweetheart." The pet name dripped with condescension--his voice low and gruff, barely above a growl. You felt a wave of arousal rush to your core, thighs rubbing together on instinct.

The movement didn't go unnoticed by Dean, who let out a dark chuckle. His lips brushed against your ear as he inhaled deeply. "I can smell how badly you want me, (Y/N)."

His hand gripped your hip tightly, pulling you back so you were flush against his front. You felt his hard length pressing into you through his jeans, a soft needy sound escaping your lips.

Suddenly he pulled away, leaving you feeling vulnerable and embarrassed. He might be wearing your husband's face, but he was a demon for christ's sake! You should be as far from turned on as humanly possible.

He came to a stop in front of you, close enough to touch you, but far enough to allow you some clarity. "I imagine you came here to talk me into coming home?"

You didn't bother to reply, it was obvious he could read you as well as he did as a human.

"If I'd wanted to be human again, I wouldn't have left. I'm as familiar with the cure as you are, sweetheart--and it's not worth it to me. I like who I am--I like being a demon. All that baggage I carried as a human? It's gone--I've never felt more free, (Y/N), and I'm not giving that up."

Much to Dean's surprise, your expression morphed into quiet understanding, eyes softening as you watched him closely. He felt uncomfortable under your gaze, so he flashed his eyes black in an attempt to regain control of the situation.

You winced slightly, hating seeing those demon eyes obscuring the brilliant green you loved so much. Your expression, however, remained soft. "Your life wasn't easy," you murmured gently. "There was a lot of heartbreak, pain, and loss...not to mention the weight of the entire world on your shoulders for most of your adult life. I can understand why you'd prefer this...you no longer have to give a damn."

Dean wanted to be annoyed--he wanted to be angry, his need for control surging inside him. Instead, he found himself stepping closer to you again--drawn to your soft eyes and sweet expression. Somewhere deep inside, emotions began to stir.

What had once been a deep, unending love for you, had turned to a lust so powerful, it threatened to devour you both. His eyes turned back to green, but the irises were barely visible around his widened pupils. His gaze was hungry, the predatory look having returned with a vengeance.

"How 'bout we go back to my room?" he purred lowly.

You knew you should say no--you shouldn't go anywhere alone with him, but you couldn't bring yourself to deny him.

"Are you afraid of me, (Y/N)?"

"You're a knight of hell," you whispered. "I'd have to be a fool not to be."

He smirked coldly. "Do you think I'm going to hurt you, sweetheart?"

Despite the darkness within him--despite what he had become--you believed in your heart he would never hurt you.

"No," you murmured honestly.

His smirk widened, rough fingers reaching out to grip your jaw tightly. "Oh I will hurt you, baby--but only in the ways you like."

You inhaled sharply, a wave of arousal dampening your panties even further. Your lips parted slightly, eyes never leaving his.

"You're coming with me," he growled possessively, hand gripping your wrist tightly as he dragged you to the door.

He pulled you roughly out onto the sidewalk and practically dragged you to the Impala, pulling the door open and shoving you into the passenger seat.

His aggression was a turn-on, none of his actions thus far having hurt you. You were certain you'd have bruising on your wrist from where he grabbed you, but you were completely fine with it.

He drove in silence at a speed that sent little waves of terror through you. The hotel he was staying at wasn't far, but he still made it there in record time. It was a much nicer place than the ones you usually stayed in, but you weren't surprised that Dean's tastes had become a little more bougie.

He dragged you into the elevator, pulling your back flush against his chest, hands gripping your upper arms like iron vices. You squirmed slightly and he let out a low growl, grip tightening.

"You move like that again and I'm gonna fuck you in this damn elevator," he hissed.

Part of you was into it, but you also didn't want to get caught fucking your demon husband in a public elevator. So you remained as still as possible until the doors opened on his floor and he pulled you down the hall to his room.

Once inside, Dean slammed the door with force, pinning you up against it so your cheek was pressed into it. His body was molded up against yours and his hot breath fanned across your neck. You felt his teeth scrape your pulse point, earning a low moan from you.

"You have one chance to get out of this," he growled. "One chance to say no and walk away before I fucking devour you."

If you'd had any sense, you would have ran away and never looked back, but you were already too far gone. He might not be the Dean you married, but he was still Dean--just the much darker, much wilder version.

"Fuck me, Dean," you begged softly.

He groaned lowly. "Oh I'm gonna do so much more than that sweetheart."

He ground his bulge into your back and bit into the soft flesh in the crook of your neck, causing you to whimper slightly.

"Wanna know the best part about being a demon?" he purred in your ear as he tugged your head back by your hair so he could see your eyes.

You nodded your head as best you could and waited for him to continue.

"I can have multiple orgasms and I've got the stamina of a god," he murmured. "I can fuck you all night long if I want to--and damnit I want to."

He spun you around quickly, slamming you against the wall beside the door. His lips were on yours immediately, tongue invading your mouth before you could even process what was happening.

You whimpered softly as his lips left yours and he began to kiss and nip his way across your jaw, down your throat, and to your collarbone. He wasn't being gentle, but you still found yourself wanting more--needing more.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, unused to the longer locks. It gave you more to grab, giving you a firmer grip on his head--and you loved it. If the groan that left Dean's mouth was any indication, he loved it too.

You felt his hands grasping at the front of your shirt before ripping it right in half. You yelped in surprise, but he ignored you, instead grabbing the edges of your bra and tugging them down to reveal your breasts.

"Oh, I missed these," Dean murmured before leaning back down to pull your nipple into his mouth. He used both hands to massage your breasts harshly, fingertips pinching at your exposed nipple while he nipped and sucked on the other.

You were panting heavily--almost to an embarrassing degree given how little this man had actually done to you. You found yourself falling into a familiar role with him, though he was much rougher than you were accustomed to.

When he switched to suck on your other breast, he slipped one hand down your stomach to the top of your jeans. He unfastened them easily before sliding his hand into them to cup your very wet pussy.

You felt Dean's smirk against your breast a moment before he lifted his head to look at your face. "Your panties are soaked," he groaned. "How long have you been thinking about me fucking you senseless?"

Your eyes weren't entirely focused on him and you didn't respond right away, so he grabbed your chin tightly, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You respond when I ask you a question."

You gasped softly before whimpering out an answer, "Since I saw you in the bar."

He gave you a look clearly indicating his disbelief. "Really?" His fingers pressed more firmly against your pussy, brushing against your clit purposefully. He ignored your soft moan, but you saw the smirk in his eyes. "You didn't imagine me fucking you while you played with your pretty pussy? Don't lie to me, sweetheart, I know you can't go almost 2 months without an orgasm."

You shook your head, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your honest response.

His eyes flashed black and your heart leapt into your throat, a surge of fear sweeping through you. "Don't be a brat, (Y/N)," he growled. "You know what will happen."

Under normal circumstances, you'd play into the bratty role--it always got Dean riled up. But this wasn't a normal situation and he wasn't the normal Dean. Dean had always been a very loving and affectionate dom, but you knew demon Dean was about as far from loving and affectionate as one could be. You didn't want to see exactly how far he'd go if you pushed his buttons.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"Answer my question."

"I did imagine you," you said so softly he almost didn't hear you.

He pretended to have missed your words and he leaned in closer. "What was that? I couldn't quite hear you."

"I imagined you," you said again, slightly louder.

"I know." He simultaneously bit into your neck and rubbed his fingers against your clothed clit, eliciting a wanton moan from your lips.

"There are lots of women in this world that'll fall right into my bed with a single look from me, but not a single one has a pussy like yours. Been dreamin' of it for weeks."

His words hurt you, but you pushed those feelings aside and tried to focus on the positive of the backhanded compliment he'd just given you.

He suddenly stepped back, leaving you completely untethered and weaker than you'd expected. Had the wall not been right behind you, you'd be on the floor right now.

His eyes roamed your disheveled body hungrily, possessively. He backed up towards the bed, taking off his shirt as he went. He sat down on the edge, eyes still glued to your body. "Come here."

You did as he asked, too afraid to disobey him.

"Strip."

You started to remove your clothes quickly, but his gravelly voice stopped you. "Slower."

You very slowly removed each article of clothing until you were completely bare. While you'd been naked hundreds of times in front of Dean, this time was different. You felt self-conscious under his hard gaze, afraid he wouldn't like what he saw.

He seemed to sense your discomfort, and to your surprise he assuaged it instantly. "Becoming a demon didn't make me stop loving that body of yours, sweetheart. It's still my favorite thing in the world."

You relaxed instantly, feeling pleased that he liked your body so much. A soft voice in the back of your mind pointed out he'd said your body was his favorite, not you--but you pushed that thought aside for the sake of your heart.

He spread his legs wide and leaned back on his hands, appreciative gaze roaming your exposed flesh. "Now, show me how you like your pretty pussy to be touched."

You bit your lip, keeping your eyes locked on his face as you slid one hand to your breasts and the other to your aching pussy. Dean's eyes watched as you slipped your fingers between your folds, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

You toyed with your clit gently, little moans and whimpers filling the room. You watched as Dean removed his belt and stood up to take off his jeans and underwear. When you finally got a good view of his cock you moaned a little louder, and his eyes flicked up to your face. He smirked when he realized what had caused that noise to come out of your mouth.

He stepped towards you, gripping his large cock firmly in his dominant hand, stroking it slowly. Your own hand had slowed nearly to a stop, but Dean wouldn't have any of that. "Did I say you could stop?"

You quickly sped back up, wanting to please him with an unhealthy level of desperation.

"You're such a good girl for me. My little slut," he said lowly. "Saw the way you looked at my cock, baby--bet you want it in your mouth."

You nodded rapidly.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours. "On your knees."

You dropped to your knees instantly, ready and willing to give him want he asked for.

"Open your mouth. Now."

Your mouth opened obediently, waiting for his next move.

"You gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours?"

You nodded eagerly.

"So fucking sexy like this," he murmured. "Gonna make you choke on my cock."

He gave no further warning before grabbing the back of your head and tugging you down onto his cock. You gagged as his large member slammed into the back of your throat, a burning sensation accompanying it.

His hips moved rapidly as he fucked your face harshly--it was as if you were an inanimate object, only there to give him pleasure.

This level of roughness was new for you, and you were surprised to find how much you were enjoying it. Your eyes watered, spit dribbled down your jaw, and your pussy dripped.

The ache was almost unbearable, so you slipped a hand between your legs to provide yourself some relief.

Dean's observant gaze saw the action and he grinned. "Such a dirty little slut aren't you? Getting off on sucking my cock."

You moaned around him, pulling a surprised groan from deep in his throat. He gripped your head tighter, thrusts speeding up. "Fuck--love this mouth," he ground out.

The force of his thrusts made you pause your own ministrations, attention focused solely on the intensity of his motions. You gripped his strong thighs tightly, nails digging into the soft flesh.

"Oh fuck yes--gonna cum in this sweet little mouth, baby."

You moaned in response.

"Yeah? You want that? Want me to cum down your throat?"

You moaned again and tried to nod.

"How could I deny my little slut?" His grip tightened even further on your head, pulling your hair painfully. With one final thrust, he spilled his load into your mouth, hot ropes of cum filling your throat.

You swallowed every drop he gave you, knowing he'd certainly punish you if even a single drop left your mouth.

Even Dean had to admit, he hadn't had an orgasm that good since he'd become a demon--and watching you swallow all of his cum like that had him wanting more. "Greedy, are we?"

You licked your lips as you looked up at him. "I can't help it. You just taste so good."

He was taken aback by your statement, cock twitching in response. Perks of being a demon, he thought to himself. Already ready for round two. "On the bed, feet off the end."

You got up and laid down on the bed, face up. You weren't moving quickly enough for Dean, so he grabbed your ankles and roughly pulled you towards him. Your ass was now hanging off the bed slightly and your pussy was at the perfect height for him to enjoy from his knees.

There was something incredibly thrilling about seeing Dean on his knees for you. While it wasn't the first time, you doubted demon Dean was the kind of man who'd get on his knees for anyone.

"Now I'm gonna eat this pretty pussy of yours until I get my fill, understand? If you try to stop me, you will be punished."

"Yes, Dean."

"Good girl," he mumbled. He spread your legs as wide as they would go and breathed deeply. He licked his lips subconsciously before diving into you.

As always, Dean knew exactly what to do to drive you wild--he'd learned how to read your body years ago. His tongue felt incredible, large and flat, licking from the bottom of your pussy to the top, giving your clit a gentle flick, then repeating.

You shifted your hips, trying to get him to speed up, which he ignored. Instead, he laid his arm across your lower belly, holding you in place so he could continue his work.

After several more moments of this agonizing pace, he finally relented, lips wrapping around your clit to suck it into his mouth. You cried out in pleasure, legs already beginning to shake.

His motions were rhythmic, sucking your clit and licking it intermittently, as if he couldn't decide which one he preferred. As your moans grew in intensity, he knew you were getting closer. He had plans for you this evening--and your first orgasm of the night was going to be from his mouth and nothing else.

Your fingers had tangled in his hair and you were desperately trying to grind yourself against his face, but his arm prevented you from moving. He switched to focus all of his attention on your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue at an insane rate of speed.

You cried out as you came, the orgasm breathtaking in its intensity and pleasure. Dean worked you through the high, but didn't make any signs of stopping.

You remembered his words from earlier, so you kept your mouth shut even though the sensitivity was overwhelming.

When he felt your body begin to relax and the soft moans began to leave your lips again, he slowed his pace way down. He wanted to take his time now, enjoying your taste and the sweet sounds you made for him.

He slid two of his fingers into you, pressing gently against your g-spot before sliding them back out. His tongue laved at your clit, moans of his own giving it the slightest vibrations.

When your pussy started clenching tightly around his fingers and your breathing had become more labored, he sped up. He sucked and licked at your clit, nipping ever so gently at the hood, causing you to yelp softly.

Your fingers had once again found their way to his hair and you were holding on for dear life. You felt your orgasm building--it was so close. You voiced as much to Dean, even though he was already very aware.

You were just about to reach your peak when Dean suddenly slowed down--to an agonizingly slow pace.

"No, no, no--please!" you begged.

Dean ignored your pleas, opting to focus on his activities instead. He sped up just a tiny bit, building your orgasm back up.

The louder your moans became, the faster Dean went. Your orgasm was approaching once again and you begged Dean not to stop.

You were a second away from your orgasm when Dean once again slowed his motions. You cried out in anguish as the blissful feeling faded away.

"Please, Dean," you whimpered.

He lifted his head slightly, fingers still moving very slowly against your g-spot. "I'm not done with this pussy yet. Tastes too good for me to stop."

"But I need to cum," you cried.

"You'll cum when I let you cum," he said harshly.

His mouth dropped back to your pussy, focus once again on enjoying his feast.

Dean did this two more times--denying you an orgasm mere seconds before one was to occur. By this point, you were crying and begging him to just let you cum--you couldn't stand the ache any longer.

Dean decided he had listened to your babbling pleas for long enough. He pulled away from you, leaving you whimpering shamefully.

Dean laid down on the bed beside you. "Get up here. I'm not finished yet."

You were confused, so you didn't move fast enough for him. He smacked your breast harshly and you yelped in pain.

"I said, get up here. Now."

"I don't understand," you whimpered.

Dean sighed in exasperation. "Sit on my face so I can eat you properly."

It's not like you hadn't done this with him before. It was something you'd always known Dean enjoyed, but your brain was so fuzzy with need, it hadn't even crossed your mind.

You pulled yourself up and straddled his head. He didn't wait for you to sit down, he simply grabbed your hips and tugged you down to his waiting mouth.

You moaned in pleasure instantly, the sound spurring him on. He knew you were in for an incredibly intense orgasm and he was dying to taste it--to feel you coat his mouth and face with your sweet juices.

He had you on the brink in an embarrassingly short amount of time, but you couldn't be bothered to feel any shame. You were grinding down on his face, using him for your own pleasure.

You prayed he wouldn't stop this time--the need to cum so overwhelming it was painful. You were gripping onto the headboard for support as you rode his face, moans slowly rising in pitch as you neared climax.

Dean's fingers dug into your upper thighs and hips so tightly there were sure to be bruises. He could tell you were close, so he sped up his motions, desperate for you to cum.

"Dean--I-I'm gonna--"

You finally came with a scream of his name--the sound so loud it likely woke the entire hotel. Your legs shook violently, the pleasure so blinding you nearly blacked out.

It wasn't until you felt someone lifting you and laying you on your back that you started to become aware of your surroundings again.

Dean watched you, a satisfied smirk on his handsome face. He reached out and brushed your hair from your face where it had stuck to your sweaty skin. It was an oddly affectionate gesture for a demon.

He waited patiently for you to re-acclimate to your surroundings--come back down to earth, as it were. When your pretty (y/e/c) eyes met his, you smiled, forgetting for a moment that he was anything but the man you loved.

"That was...in-incredible," you mumbled breathlessly.

He grinned. "Happy to be of service."

You smiled in return, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm your racing heart.

Dean crawled on top of you, arms on either side of your body, ensuring you couldn't get away. "I'm no where near done with you yet."

"You give me another orgasm like that and you just might kill me."

He grinned wolfishly, eyes darkening with lust. "Oh sweetheart...you have no idea what I could do to you."

You weren't sure if it was a threat or a promise, but you were incredibly turned-on by it. Dean could see the rapid rise and fall of your chest beneath him...and he knew his words had the desired effect.

He grabbed his cock and rubbed it very gently between your folds. You inhaled sharply at the sensation.

"Do you want my cock?"

You nodded rapidly.

"Come on baby, I wanna hear you say it."

"I want your cock."

"Good girl," he murmured, repeating his earlier motion. "Now beg for it."

Your eyes widened and he gave you a warning look. You knew you had to beg or else. "I want your cock so badly."

"Mhmm."

"I need it."

"Keep going."

"I...I wanna feel you inside me."

"Come on, sweetheart," he chided. "I know you can do better than that."

"I want you to fuck me, Dean. Please--I need you."

He slipped the tip of his cock into you and you whimpered softly. "Give me a little more, baby."

"I want you to fuck me so hard I forget my own name," you begged. "I'll be so good for you--I promise."

He plunged into you without warning, sheathing himself deep in your warm, wet heat. "That's my good girl," he moaned.

He started to move slowly, in and out, each direction painfully slow. "My god have I missed this pussy," he said as if to himself.

You whined beneath him, hoping he'd get the hint and pick up the pace.

He looked down at your needy expression and smirked. "Patience, baby. I'll make those knees weak--don't you worry."

He leaned down to kiss you roughly, one hand tangling in your hair, pulling your head back slightly as he deepened the kiss. His thrusts started to speed up, matching the pace he'd set with his tongue in your mouth.

After several moments, he pulled himself up, grabbing your legs and putting one on each side of his head. The new position allowed him to hit that spot so deep inside you, you'd thought it was a myth until you met him.

He began to piston in and out of you, each thrust hard and fast. Each time he'd pull almost all the way out slowly before slamming back into you with force--cock brushing up against your cervix with each thrust.

It didn't take long before you were a whimpering, moaning mess beneath him. He loved seeing how fucked out you were--knowing that it was all because of him.

"Whose pussy is this?"

Your eyes shot open. "Yours!" you gasped.

"That's right, baby. Mine," he growled. "No one gets to touch you like this but me."

"No one," you confirmed breathlessly.

His eyes flashed black. "I'll kill anyone who even looks at you like he wants to fuck you."

You inhaled sharply. Dean had always been a very protective man--possessive even--but this was a whole new level. You had no doubt in your mind that he was completely serious. He would most certainly murder a man for daring to have so much as an unclean thought about you.

It probably shouldn't have turned you on, but it did--his possessive nature infinitely more intense now that he was a demon. Your pussy clenched down tightly around him, signaling how much you liked his words.

"That turns you on, huh? You like the thought of me owning you? Owning this pussy?"

"Yes!" you cried out as he continued to pound into you.

"Lucky for you, I'm never letting you go again," he growled. His thrusts were fast and hard, his focus on feeling you cum around his cock.

His words had an immediate effect on you, his possessiveness almost affectionate in that moment. It was exactly what you needed to fall over the edge with a low moan of his name.

"Fuck!" he groaned as he tried to maintain his speed. Your pussy was squeezing him so tightly he could barely move. "Jesus, baby--gotta stop squeezing me like that."

"Sorry," you whimpered, trying to relax your body.

Dean's hips began to move again and he leaned forward to kiss your jawline. "Don't apologize--not your fault this pussy feels so fuckin' good--made for me."

You gasped softly, skin flushing at his praise.

He pulled out of you without warning and roughly flipped you onto your stomach. His palm landed on your ass with a firm smack, causing you to jump slightly.

"Lift your hips," he ordered.

You did as he asked and he slid into you, immediately setting a brutal pace. He alternated between smacking your ass, pulling your hair, and gripping your hips so you couldn't move.

Your pussy pulsed and fluttered around his cock, the pleasure becoming unbearable. "Dean--s-so close," you moaned.

"I know--you're squeezing me so tight," he replied through gritted teeth. "But don't you dare cum until I give you permission."

"But, I--"

He grabbed you by the hair, tugging you up so your back was pressed against his chest. He nipped at your ear and pressed his hand firmly against your neck--not enough to hurt you, but enough for you to know he could.

His voice was low and demanding when he spoke again, "Be a good girl for me, (Y/N), and I won't have to hurt you. But if you disobey me, I will take everything I want and give you nothing, do you understand?"

"Yes," you whispered breathily.

"Good." He released you suddenly, letting your body fall back onto the bed as he renewed his painful thrusts.

You used all of your concentration to focus on not cumming until he allowed you to, but the more time passed, the more painful it was not to orgasm.

"Dean, please--I-I can't t-take it," you cried.

"Yes you can, baby. You're already taking my cock so well."

"Ne-need to cum," you begged.

Dean thought about it for a moment and made a decision. His hips slowed and he leaned forward to speak close to your ear. "You can cum after I do."

You whimpered, head nodding your agreement.

Dean's hands gripped onto your hips, holding them in place as he pistoned in and out of you, chasing his own high. He heard your desperate whimpers and felt your pussy spasming around him, but all he cared about was his release.

His hips began to falter as pleasure licked up his spine moments before he came with a guttural groan, spilling his seed deep inside you.

The moment you felt his cum begin to fill you up, your own orgasm crashed into you, making you cry out in pleasure.

Dean worked you through your high before pulling out of you and letting you collapse on the bed. His large body hovered over yours as he pressed kisses into your heated skin.

His cock was still throbbing with need, despite having just had an incredible orgasm. He knew you were exhausted, but he hadn't had his fill of you yet.

He rolled you back over and slid inside of you, slowly bottoming out with a breathless moan. You whimpered at the sensation, pussy too sensitive and overstimulated for another round.

"No--no more, Dean, please."

"I warned you, sweetheart...told you I wanted to fuck you all night."

"It--it's too much."

He slowly slid out of you and slowly slid back in. "I know you can take it."

You shook your head. "I can't--"

Dean grabbed your wrists and pulled them over your head, holding them tightly in place with one hand. The motion forced him lower, making his body weight press firmly against you.

His lips brushed against yours and his voice was almost pained when he whispered, "I'll be gentle."

You saw the need in his mossy green eyes and your resolve crumbled. You supposed you could allow him at least one more orgasm. "Alright," you murmured.

He smiled at you before kissing you deeply, thoroughly enjoying the taste and feel of you. His thrusts were slow and measured, much more gentle than they'd been before.

To your surprise, the friction wasn't as painful as you'd expected. In fact, you found yourself enjoying the slow feeling of his cock dragging against your walls, the thick vein on the underside throbbing inside you.

He let go of your wrists to hold himself up a little, allowing him more room to move. His eyes traced your face as he fucked you, the action incredibly intimate despite the situation.

After several minutes of gentle thrusts, Dean pulled himself up into a sitting position and pulled you along with him. You weren't strong enough to hold yourself up properly, but he was more than capable of keeping your body where he wanted it.

He leaned back, lying flat against the bed, with you now straddling him. You put your hands on his chest for leverage as you began to ride him.

Dean let out a soft moan, which you echoed when he pulled your hips down flush against his so you couldn't move. He pressed his hand firmly against your lower belly and you gasped in pleasure.

"You feel that, baby? Feel my cock so deep inside you? Feels so fuckin' good."

You nodded rapidly, not trusting your voice to actually speak.

Dean released your hips so you could move again, but his eyes didn't leave your body. "You look so fuckin' sexy riding me. Could stare at ya all night."

You blushed deeply, gaze pulling away from his bashfully.

He reached up and touched your cheek, pulling your face back towards him. "I like looking at you."

You bit your lip, but didn't turn away. Having demon Dean compliment you felt so incredibly different than what you were used to. It almost felt wrong to appreciate his words and his gaze--as if you were cheating on your husband. You knew you weren't really, but it still felt wrong.

After several more moments, Dean tired of the slowness of the pace. He grabbed you and pulled you down to him, wrapping his arms around you to hold you tightly. He planted his feet and began to piston up into you, sending shock waves of pain and pleasure through your body.

He loved the wrecked sounds coming from your mouth as he fucked up into you. He knew his current angle would hit your sweet spot with each thrust--and he knew you wouldn't be able to avoid another orgasm.

He'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't want to feel you cum all over his cock again--the sensation was almost as incredible as his own orgasm. He found himself craving it with a desperation he didn't want to dive too deeply into.

"I know you're close, sweetheart," he murmured. "I can feel it--know you wanna cum around my cock."

Your moans and whimpers were all the confirmation he needed.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?"

"Please," was all you could manage to say.

"Cum for me."

His command sent you over the edge with shocking ease. You weren't certain you even had it in you to cum again, and the intensity of the orgasm surprised you.

Dean held on tightly as your body shook, your pussy clenching and unclenching around him as you squirted all over his lower body.

"Holy fuck, you're sexy," he groaned, an intense feeling of pride surging through his veins. He'd made you squirt before, but every single time felt like a gold fucking medal to him.

His thrusts became more sloppy as his own orgasm neared. He was so close he could practically taste it, but it was your aftershocks that finally had him exploding inside of you. He stopped moving, holding you tight to him as he emptied deep in your pussy.

He carefully rolled you over onto your back before sliding out of you. You whimpered at the feeling of emptiness, which made his chest swell with pride.

"Spread those pretty legs for me, baby--spread 'em nice and wide," he murmured, large hand gently rubbing your thighs. "Spread yourself open--wanna watch my cum leaking out of you."

You did as he asked, surprised to find yourself so turned-on by his request. You watched him stare at the apex of your thighs, your mixed spends dripping from your abused hole.

He licked his lips, gaze flickering back up to yours. "You're the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."

You inhaled sharply, pleased by his praise. "Come here," you whispered, reaching for him.

You were surprised when he actually complied, crawling up your body and placing a soft kiss on to your lips, allowing you to run your hands through his hair affectionately.

After a few moments, Dean pulled away. "Why don't you get a little rest? You'll need your strength."

You looked at him in shock. "Strength for what?"

"You didn't think we were done, did you?"

"Dean, you can't possibly be serious!"

His eyes flashed black, reminding you exactly who and what you were dealing with. "I'm deadly serious."

You exhaled shakily as it finally dawned on you that you had no control over your current situation. Dean could do anything he wanted to you and there wouldn't be a damn thing you could do about it.

But that wasn't the concerning part. The concerning part was how little fear you felt. The idea of him being completely in control felt like a good thing...and that was what really scared you.

**********

You awoke several hours later to the feeling of Dean's rough hands on your soft skin. You were lying on your side, with him directly behind you. It had been a comfortable position to fall asleep in, but it seemed Dean now had a different idea.

You felt his cock tease your pussy and you whimpered softly.

"Need you just one more time," Dean murmured in your ear as he slid into you. He held you tightly against him, still spooning you as he began his gentle thrusts.

"Focus on how my cock feels in that tight little pussy of yours," he instructed. "I know you're sore, baby, but I'm gonna make you feel so good."

You'd lost count of the number of orgasms you'd had somewhere after the 7th one. You hadn't even known it was possible for the human body to have that many. Dean was right--you were sore, too sore to move, in fact.

"I've got you," he murmured, pressing his lips into your shoulder.

The intimacy of the moment surprised you and you weren't sure why Dean was being so soft. You leaned back into him, feeling the taunt muscles of his abdomen flex against you.

He took the movement as permission to continue what he was doing. He slid his hand farther down your body, slipping it between your legs to rub light circles on your swollen clit.

You gasped softly, nails digging into the flesh of his arm.

Dean shushed you gently. "Let me make you feel good--just relax."

You tried to do as he said, willing your overstimulated body to stop tensing.

As Dean continued his gentle thrusts and soft touches, you began to feel the familiar tightening deep in your abdomen. You focused on the feeling, on the need for a release as it rose within you.

"You're doing so good for me," Dean praised. "So sexy--with this fucking perfect pussy. Could stay here forever."

His murmured words of praise went straight to your core, causing it to tighten around him. He moaned softly, continuing his movements.

"Dean," you whispered. "I'm close."

He pressed his lips into your shoulder. "Let go for me, baby. I've got you."

For a moment--just a moment--you felt like you were making love to your Dean. The feeling was fleeting, but it gave you hope, even as it ripped your heart to pieces.

He knew exactly what to do to send your body into overdrive--he'd always known. He had you falling apart in minutes, soft cries of pleasure slipping past your tired lips.

"That's it, baby," Dean groaned. "Gonna fill you up."

Dean came for a final time, deep inside you. You'd lost track of his orgasms long before you'd lost track of your own.

He whispered your name softly, lips brushing against your skin sweetly.

He didn't pull out, but his cock finally began to soften--having reached the limit even for a demon.

After several minutes, he allowed you to pull away from him. You rolled over and quickly fell asleep, too exhausted to even exist for a moment longer.

**********

When you finally woke up, you weren't sure how much time had passed. Your entire body was sore, a dull ache from your head to your toes.

You pulled yourself up into a sitting position, glancing beside you to the empty bed. Your eyes flitted around the room, seeking any sign of Dean. His clothes were still strewn all over the floor, along with yours, but he could very well have put on fresh clothes.

You weakly pulled yourself out of the bed and slowly made your way to the bathroom, bladder pulsating painfully. After using the bathroom, you splashed cold water on your face, trying to revive yourself even a little.

You gazed at yourself in the mirror, taking in the various marks and bruises littering your skin. You would typically wear such marks like a badge of honor, but in this moment, you only felt shame.

You'd had explosive sex with a demon--not just any demon, a demon that used to be your husband. Your heart clenched as images flashing through your mind. You'd loved it in the moment, but now you felt incredibly guilty.

You couldn't help but wonder what Dean would think of you if you were able to make him human again. You were scared he'd be upset with you--ashamed even.

The sound of the hotel room door opening shook you from your thoughts. You grabbed the robe hanging on a hook in the bathroom and threw it on quickly, barely covering yourself before Dean came into view.

"Hey sweetheart," he said with a smile. "I brought food."

Surprise lit up your face as you stared at him. You hadn't been certain he'd come back, let alone bring you food. "Oh, umm...thank you."

He nodded and placed the bags on the small table. "You wanna take a shower first or eat first?"

You were still in shock from his behavior, but you managed to mumble, "Shower." You closed the door slowly and started the shower, but you didn't get in.

You took a moment to try and collect yourself, but you found it nearly impossible to relax. You sighed and dropped the robe from your body before stepping under the hot spray.

The calming feeling of the water washing over you brought you some relief--as if it was washing away your sins. It also gave you some clarity.

At the end of the day, he was still Dean--and you desperately wanted him back. If this was the only way to do it, then you just had to suck it up and do what needed to be done. If necessary, you'd beg for forgiveness later.

When you got out of the shower Dean was waiting for you at the table. You'd thrown the robe back on, having no other clothes with you.

You offered him a smile before going towards where your undergarments lay near the bed. You also picked up your jeans, but your shirt was completely ruined.

Dean's keen eyes followed you around the room, watching in silence. When you made it to the door where the remnants of your shirt lay, Dean chuckled lightly. "Why don't you wear one of mine, sweetheart?"

You held up the ripped fabric. "I don't think I have much of a choice."

He smiled and stood up, grabbing a clean flannel out of the duffle on the floor. He handed it to you and waited--as if he expected you to say something.

You looked down at the flannel in your hand and inhaled sharply. It was your favorite flannel of his--green and black in color, and incredibly soft from all the washes it had endured.

He saw the moment you recognized the shirt and he suddenly felt oddly nervous--he wanted you to be happy, as silly as that might be for a demon.

"I'll just go throw these on," you whispered.

Dean just nodded as you walked past him to the bathroom. You came out a few minutes later, fully clothed.

He let out a soft sound you could only describe as a low growl. "I love it when you wear my clothes."

You blushed. "You always did find it sexy."

He grinned darkly and took a step towards you, but you shook your head gently.

"My entire body is sore, Dean."

He pouted. "A kiss at least?"

You sighed. "Fine."

He leaned down to kiss you with shocking gentleness. It warmed you from the inside out.

"See? I can be gentle," Dean said with a smirk.

"Interesting for a demon," you mumbled, sitting down at the table.

You missed the look of hurt that crossed Dean's face at your words. He sat at the table across from you, expression impassive.

You started to eat, quickly discovering how hungry you really were. Dean watched you quietly, not particularly hungry himself. He noticed some marks on your exposed collarbone and throat and he felt an odd feeling in his chest. It made him extremely uncomfortable, but he couldn't quite place the feeling.

"Dean?" you asked softly.

His eyes refocused on your face. "Hmm?"

"I know what you're going to say, but will you please come back with me? Just--Just come home, Dean--please." You were more than ready to beg, but you found you didn't need to.

"Alright."

You'd opened your mouth for a rebuttal, but his voice stopped you--"What?"

"I'll come back with you."

Your face was a mixture of surprise and confusion. "I, uhh--I was expecting to have to beg you."

"No need," he commented. "After last night, I have no desire to be anywhere else."

"Anywhere else?"

"Perhaps I should have said with anyone else."

"Ahh. I see." Your heart fluttered slightly, even though the words came from a demon.

"So yes, I'll go back home with you...on one condition."

Your heart began to beat faster as you waited for him to continue.

"Under no circumstances will you ever force me to become human."

Your chest ached at his words, your eyes fluttered closed, and your breath exhaled slowly. Dean knew what he was asking of you--knew it was a lot deeper than a simple promise. "Don't make me promise that," you whispered.

Dean's eyes flicked to black and his expression hardened. "Promise me or leave. The choice is yours."

It felt as though time slowed around you. You had never once broken a promise to Dean--never. He knew you prided yourself on that--he knew you would never break one. You couldn't find it in yourself to betray him, even now.

"I have one condition of my own."

Dean raised a single eyebrow.

"I will make you that promise, if you give me the First Blade."

It was Dean's turn to be surprised. "Why?"

"You know why."

His eyes flicked back to green, but he looked annoyed. "And if I don't give it up?"

"Then I leave."

Dean weighed his options in silence. After a few moments, he got up and crossed the room towards the door where his jacket hung. He reached into the inside pocket and pulled out the First Blade.

You inhaled sharply, a ripple of fear surging through you.

He crossed the short distance back to you, placing the Blade on the table in front of you. You reached out for it, but his hand snapped forward and grabbed your arm.

"Do we have a deal?"

You exhaled heavily. "We have a deal."

"Say it."

"I promise I will never force you to become human again," you whispered.

He released your arm and smirked. He was obviously pleased with himself, even as you quite clearly ached from making such a promise.

You pulled the Blade towards you, keeping it as close to you as you could. You needed to call Crowley to come get the damn thing as soon as possible--you wanted it as far away from Dean as possible.

“Maybe we can leave when I’m done eating?”

Dean just nodded. “Better not tell Sam until we get there.”

You couldn't have told him even if you'd wanted to, given that Crowley had broken your phone, so you simply nodded your agreement.

Dean watched you in silence while you finished eating, his face completely unreadable. You were worried about what Dean was planning, but you were more worried about Sam's reaction to all of this.

**********

The drive back to the bunker was uneventful. Dean drove straight through the night, no need for sleep. You were still tired from your antics the day before, so you slept for a large portion of the drive.

Dean woke you 10 minutes before arrival. "How pissed you think Sammy's gonna be?" he asked.

"You left him to die, Dean--he's probably not gonna be excited to see you."

Dean shrugged. "I mean, he didn't die though."

You shot him a glare and he laughed. "It's not funny, Winchester."

"It's not, not funny."

You sighed. "Just let me do the talking, okay? He's not pissed at me."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "He's gonna be."

"Either way," you mumbled. "Just let me handle it."

"Fine."

Dean pulled in to the underground garage and you both got out of the car. You weren't sure if Sam would even be there--you hadn't spoken to him in a couple days. For all you knew, he could have been kidnapped a second time--or maybe he thought you were the one missing.

As you entered into the bunker properly, you found it very quiet and very empty.

"Looks like nobody's home," Dean commented.

"Sam's probably worried about me--god only knows where he is," you muttered. You turned to Dean. "Let me borrow your phone."

He eyed you warily. "What happened to yours?"

"Crowley broke it."

Dean's eyes narrowed, flashing black aggressively. "He what?"

"Easy there killer--he broke my phone, not me."

"I'll kill him."

"Get in line," you mumbled as you stuck out your hand. "Phone, please."

He handed you his phone and you immediately dialed the familiar number. Sam answered on the second ring, hope and surprise in his voice, "Dean?"

"No, it's me."

You heard relief in his voice when he spoke again. "Where the hell are you? Are you okay? I was seriously worried--" he paused, seemingly remembering whose phone you were using. "Are you with Dean?"

Dean leaned in over your shoulder to speak into the phone. "Hiya, Sammy."

You elbowed Dean lightly. "I'm fine, Sam, and yes, I'm with Dean."

"How--?"

"Crowley."

"Why the hell didn't you call me?"

"Also, Crowley. He busted my phone--hence why I'm using Dean's."

"Are you--are you safe?"

You looked over at Dean and sighed. "Yeah, I'm safe."

Sam sighed in relief. "Where are you--I'll come get you."

"We're, uhh--we're actually back home."

"What?"

"We're at the bunker."

"How the hell did you convince him to come back with you?"

"We can talk about that when you get here. Just come home."

"I'm on my way."

You hung up the phone and handed it back to Dean, who gave you a hungry look.

"So...what should we do while we're waiting?"

"I know you're a demon, but I'm not," you said lightly. "I'm still sore."

"Aww c'mon, sweetheart," Dean pouted slightly. "I'll be gentle."

You shook your head with a small smile. "I'm not so sure about that."

"I was gentle yesterday morning, wasn't I?"

"After several orgasms and some very rough sex."

"I thought you enjoyed that," he said lowly, stepping closer to you.

You blushed, taking a step back. "I--I did."

He grinned predatorily. "I can make it very good for you, baby."

You felt a rush of arousal flood your body as he took another step towards you, backing you up against the large table behind you.

He breathed deeply and his eyes flashed black. "I can smell your desire."

You exhaled shakily.

Dean leaned forward, pinning you against the table. He placed one arm on the table and the other very lightly against your throat. "How 'bout I take you right here?"

You weren't opposed to the idea, but you weren't sure exactly how far away Sam was. "What if Sam comes back?"

Dean shrugged. "Then we'll give him a show."

You smacked his chest affectionately. "We will not."

"Then I guess you better hope he doesn't come back while I'm fucking you senseless."

You gasped and Dean leaned down, pressing his lips hungrily against yours. You kissed him back with the same amount of passion, fingers digging into his back to pull him closer to you.

You felt Dean's fingers brush against your chest and you pulled back immediately. "Wait!"

Surprise lit up his face and he released you instantly. "What's wrong?"

"This is my favorite flannel--you are not going to rip it."

Dean laughed heartily. "My apologies, sweetheart. You can take it off yourself then."

You quickly unbuttoned it and slid it off your shoulders, tossing it to the floor nearby. You looked back up at him, a sultry smile on your face. "You may continue."

"Oh, I will." Dean gripped the front of your bra and tore it directly down the center, revealing your heaving breasts to him.

You gasped at the action, but it quickly turned to a moan as his hands began to massage your breasts and pinch your nipples harshly.

Your hips instinctively jutted forward, seeking his body for some relief. Dean immediately noticed, pressing his body firmly against yours, knee sliding between your legs to apply pressure against your core.

You ground yourself down on his knee and groaned softly. You repeated the action, the friction giving you pleasure.

"That's it, pretty girl," Dean growled lowly. "Get yourself off my thigh."

You continued your motions, but it just wasn't enough to get you to your peak. You whimpered softly and Dean chuckled darkly.

"Not enough for you, baby? Need me to help you?"

"Please," you begged.

He made quick work of removing your jeans, but instead of removing your underwear, he simply ripped them right off, practically shredding the lace.

Dean slipped two of his fingers between your legs and plunged them into your core. You gasped and clenched tightly around him.

"Fuck, sweetheart--you're fuckin' soaked," Dean groaned into your neck, fingers thrusting in and out of you hastily. "So damn tight too."

You whined softly as he pulled his fingers out and slipped them into his mouth, sucking them clean. He gripped your hips tightly and lifted you to place you on the table properly.

You wrapped your legs tightly around him and pulled him in closely, desperately wanting to feel him against your skin. You tugged at his shirt, which he quickly removed.

Your fingers grasped at his belt, but he smacked your hand away. He said nothing as he dropped to his knees and tugged your hips forward.

"Spread those legs for me."

You did as he asked, spreading your legs as wide as you could. You waited for him to touch you, but he made no moves to do so. "Dean?" you asked softly, slight desperation in your voice.

His eyes raised up to meet yours, a dark expression on his face. "Touch yourself."

"What?" you asked in quiet confusion.

"You want some relief? Touch yourself."

You supported yourself on one arm while you moved the other between your legs. You were mortified by the wetness dripping down your folds, but you collected some before sliding your fingers between your labia.

Dean watched with dark, hungry eyes as you played with your clit, soft whimpers of enjoyment slipping from your lips.

"Spread yourself open so I can see," he demanded.

You did as he asked, using your other hand to spread yourself, giving him a proper view of your aching pussy.

"Fuck," he muttered beneath his breath. "Keep going."

Your fingers immediately went back to rubbing your clit, desperate to feel that tightening in your core--knowing the pleasure it would bring.

Dean's large hands splayed on your thighs, massaging them gently as he watched, eyes glued to your movements.

Finally, after what felt like hours, he leaned forward and licked into your pussy, making you shiver with anticipation. You moved your hand away and he slapped your pussy harshly, causing you to yelp.

"Did I fucking say you could stop?" he growled, eyes flashing black.

You inhaled sharply and shook your head, fingers immediately returning to your core. You wouldn't admit it to him, but you liked this dark side of him--he would never have let it come out like this if he were human. He was too afraid to hurt you--too protective to even consider it. You hadn't known how much you'd enjoy it until now...and you just had to hope Dean wouldn't notice.

Dean's tongue lapped lazily between your folds as you continued to massage your clit. Every time you felt the pressure begin to build in your gut, your fingers would instinctively speed up. Each time they sped up, Dean would pull your hand away, keeping your orgasm just out of reach.

After several minutes of this, Dean's control had begun to wane. When your fingers sped up, he once again removed your hand, only this time he replaced it with his mouth. You felt his tongue dance across your clit in the most pleasurable way, fingers entwining themselves in his hair.

Your hips bucked up towards his mouth, but he didn't relent. Even as you screamed his name and your juices began to gush, he kept his mouth on you, drinking up everything you gave him. It wasn't until you'd collapsed back onto the table that he finally pulled away and stood back up, licking his lips in satisfaction.

Your breathing was ragged and your vision was slightly blurred as you looked at him, waiting for him to make his next move. He quickly shed his jeans and boxers, tossing them out of the way before taking his cock into his hand.

He watched your chest rise and fall rapidly as he stroked himself, appreciating how fucked out you already looked. "I need you to sit up, sweetheart." His words sounded soft, but his voice was demanding.

You managed to slowly pull yourself into a sitting position, grabbing onto his muscular arms for support. He teased your entrance with his cock and you whimpered softly.

"Lean back on your hands," he murmured lowly.

You did as he asked, the angle allowing him better access to your pussy. He slipped the head of his cock between your folds and slowly began to push forward until he was completely sheathed inside you.

The feeling of fullness had you gasping softly, head tilted back as you tried to catch your breath.

Dean tugged you even closer by your hips so he could get even deeper. You cried out in pain as his first thrust hit your cervix, but Dean didn't seem to notice. His hips snapped forward repeatedly, each thrust threatening to send you flying across the table if not for his death grip on your hips.

The pain soon gave way to pleasure, the room filling with the sounds of your mixed moans, the slapping of skin, and the sounds of your slickness as he fucked you.

He snaked one hand around your back to pull you even closer to him, practically holding you as he kept his pace. Your legs had begun to shake and your arms were weakening--but you knew your orgasm was near.

"Harder," you whimpered, surprising him.

He growled. "You like it when I fuck you like a little slut, don't you?"

"Yes!" you cried out.

His hips moved impossibly faster, the thrusts harder than before.

"Don't stop!" you pleaded.

"I wouldn't dare." He kept the pace as steady as he could, even as he felt his own orgasm rising.

"Please, please, please," you rambled. "S-so close!"

Dean's hand wrapped around your throat, pressing lightly against it. "Cum for me, pretty girl," he growled.

"More!"

He tightened his grip on your throat, but not enough to hurt you. It was all you needed to push you over the edge and into bliss. You cried out as you came, the intensity of your orgasm sparking his own.

He shouted your name in surprise as hot spurts of cum filled you. His thrusts began to slow, but his grip on your body didn't lessen. He held on tightly as you both came down from your highs.

He roughly tugged you forward and off the table. You weren't stable enough to stand, but that didn't matter to him. He spun you around and forced your upper body down onto the table, spreading your legs with one of his.

His cock was already hard again and he plunged into you without warning, earning a cry from your lips.

"Fuck, this pussy is so good for me," he groaned. "I just wanna fuck you until you can't move."

"Dean!" you whimpered, body overly sensitive already.

Once again, his grip on your hips was bruising and his thrusts were almost painful in their depth and intensity. The only thing keeping you upright was the table beneath you, your legs no better than wet noodles.

"You look so fuckin' sexy like this--spread for me, pussy leaking my cum, fuckin' moaning so pretty...fuck." His thrusts sped up, making you cry out.

"Need--shit--need you to cum again, baby."

"I-I c-can't!"

"Yes you can--you've been so good for me. Just give me one more."

Tears welled in your eyes--your body ached horribly, but you wanted to please him so badly. Your hips and thighs hurt from his grip and the force of his thrusts pressing you into the table, but you tried to block all of that from your mind. You focused on the pleasurable feeling of his cock, desperate to give him what he wanted.

"I-I need more," you whimpered.

His hand immediately slipped around to your front and began to rub tight circles to your clit. The sensation nearly pushed you over the edge with how sensitive you were.

"Come on, sweetheart, I can tell you're close."

You moaned in response, focus entirely on reaching your high.

His finger moved faster, the friction sending you into overdrive. You screamed and your nails scratched against the wood as you desperately searched for something to cling to--something to ground you.

"Fuck, yes--that's it. Cum for me, baby."

You screamed again as you came--the pleasure so blinding you passed out for a few moments. When you came to, he was chasing his own high--thrusts becoming more sloppy by the second.

"G-gonna fill you u-up," he ground out, hands tightening on your hips painfully.

Two more thrusts and he was spilling inside of you, hips stuttering as he emptied his seed deep within you. He leaned forward, pressing you even farther into the table, his lips gently caressing your back.

Once he'd regained his breath--and his strength--he pulled out of you and stood up. You nearly slid off the table and onto the floor, but he caught you.

"Woah there--I've got you."

He scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom the two of you shared. He laid you down on the bed with surprising gentleness before climbing onto the bed with you.

"No--no more--please," you begged.

"Easy, sweetheart," he purred softly. "I know you're tired--I just wanna be inside of you."

He laid you on your side and he slid up into you, forcing some of his cum back into your pussy. You whimpered at the feeling of fullness, but even you had to admit you enjoyed the feeling.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you and pulled you close. "Go to sleep, baby. I've got you."

His tone was almost loving--if you didn't know better, you would have thought it was. You were too weak and tired to dwell on it, instead drifting off to sleep with unsurprising ease.

**********

Sam rushed into the bunker like a bat outta hell. He wanted to trust that his brother would never hurt you, but he worried for your safety. Dean was a knight of hell after all.

When he properly entered the war room, he froze. His eyes went to the clothing strewn about the space--a mixture of your's and Dean's. Out of all the things he'd expected, this had not been on the list. He couldn't believe you would be that foolish.

"(Y/N)? Dean?" he called as he walked farther into the bunker.

There was no response, so he made his way to where your bedroom was. The door was shut, so he knocked loudly.

You jolted awake at the loud banging, the movement making Dean moan softly. Somehow he was still hard and buried inside of you--where he'd been for however long you'd been asleep.

"(Y/N)? You in there?" Sam's voice called from the other side of the door.

Dean groaned in annoyance, but you answered anyway. "Yeah--just, uh...give us a minute."

"You coulda told him to go away," Dean mumbled into your shoulder.

"We'd just be delaying the inevitable."

He sighed and slowly removed himself from you, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips. He grinned and leaned down over you, kissing you softly. "Don't worry, we can do it again later."

You kissed him back, before giving him a light push against his chest. "I need clothes."

You dragged yourself out of bed and moved around the room, throwing various items of clothing on to make yourself decent. You wanted a shower, but that would have to wait until after you'd talked to Sam.

Dean watched you from his place in the bed, not making a move to get dressed himself.

"You coming?" you asked.

"I'll give you a head start," he answered. "You can talk to Sam alone."

You nodded. "Alright."

You exited the bedroom, closing the door behind you. Sam was standing at the end of the hall near the entrance to the library. The look he gave you told you exactly what kind of mood he was in. He disappeared into the library and you followed shortly after.

"Sam, I can explain--"

"Explain? Really? You wanna explain why you're sleeping with demon Dean?"

"Oh like you can talk," you shot back. "You slept with a demon several times--and she tried to destroy the world."

Sam's eyes narrowed, but he knew you were right.

"Besides, he's still Dean...just a demon," you mumbled.

"Fine," Sam said with a sigh. "Is that how you convinced him to come back with you?"

You averted your gaze and bit your lip lightly. "Not exactly."

"(Y/N)...what did you do?"

"What I had to do."

"(Y/N)."

"I, uh--I made him a promise."

Sam's face paled slightly. "What did you promise him?"

You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly. "I told him I wouldn't force him to become human again."

"You what?" Sam yelled. "You can't possibly keep that promise."

"I have to, Sam. I've never betrayed Dean before and I sure as hell won't start now."

"Are you kidding me? He's a demon, (Y/N)! A monster! The kind of thing he's loathed for his entire life--you really think he wants this?"

"Of course I don't!" you yelled back. "Do you really think I want my husband to be a demon forever? This was the only way to get him to agree to come back here with me. I don't regret making this promise and I would do it again if I had to!"

"So you'll break it?" Sam asked again, voice still raised.

"No," you answered firmly. "I can't."

"How could you be so stupid, (Y/N)?" Sam yelled harshly. "This is the dumbest goddamn thing you've ever done!"

Dean appeared seemingly out of nowhere, wedging himself between you and Sam. He pushed Sam back aggressively, eyes flashing to black. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "Don't you ever speak to her like that again, or you won't make it to see another sunrise."

"Dean!" you cried, stepping forward to place a calming hand on his arm. "It's alright--I'm fine."

Dean ignored you, black eyes still trained on his brother's face. "Do you understand me?"

Sam nodded slowly.

"Apologize."

"Dean, that's not necessary," you tried.

He held up his hand to silence you. "Apologize."

Sam swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). I shouldn't have said that."

"It's alright, Sam."

"Don't do it again," Dean seethed.

"Dean," you murmured softly. "We're good--I'm good."

He finally relaxed his shoulders and took a step back. His eyes flicked back to green and he turned to look at you. He seemed to scan you, checking to make sure you really were okay.

"I'm fine," you mouthed.

He nodded, finally believing you. He turned back to his brother. "Now you gonna play nice and adhere to (Y/N/N)'s promise?"

"I don't like it," Sam responded. "But fine."

Dean grinned. "Excellent. Otherwise we'd have quite a problem on our hands."

You exchanged glances between the two men and worried they would have some sort of fight sooner than later. You knew you needed to get the First Blade to Crowley before something terrible happened.

"Sam, can I borrow your phone for a moment?" you asked suddenly.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you. Dean eyed you warily, wondering what you were up to.

"Just gonna make a quick call...outside," you mumbled.

You practically ran towards the steps, taking two at a time to get out of there before someone asked too many questions. You called Crowley as soon as the bunker door closed behind you.

"Mrs. Squirrel," Crowley answered by way of greeting.

You rolled your eyes, opting not to comment on the annoying nickname. "I have the Blade."

"Where?"

"The Bunker."

He appeared a few feet away from you and you hung up your phone. You gestured for him to follow you down towards the garage.

"Stay here," you insisted, before entering the garage as quietly as possible.

You went straight for Baby, popping the trunk to retrieve the First Blade from the demon-proof box you'd placed it in. You made your way back outside quickly, not wanting to alert Dean to your movements.

"Take it," you demanded, holding it out to Crowley. "And for the love of god, hide it--put it somewhere Dean will never find it."

"I can assure you, it will be hidden well."

"Good. Now get the hell outta here before I change my mind about killing you."

Crowley smirked mirthlessly. "With pleasure."

He disappeared, taking the First Blade with him. Relief flooded your body and you turned to make your way back into the bunker, hoping to find both men in one piece.

**********

It had been a week since you and Dean had returned to the bunker. As the week went on, Dean's anger and aggression became more and more noticeable.

He hadn't said anything to you, but you knew Dean was jonesing for a kill. You could tell by the way he'd react to things--even the slightest of annoyances would have him reacting violently.

The other indicator came out in Dean's sexual desires. He wanted you almost constantly, regardless of where you were, who else was around, or what was going on. While that alone wasn't problematic, what was concerning was his increasing aggression during sex--and if he didn't get what he wanted immediately.

There wasn't a single inch of your skin he hadn't marked in some way, and you were beyond exhausted. The one time you'd dared to say no to him, resulted in him punching a dent into a metal wall--an action that frightened you. You still didn't think he would hurt you, but you weren't willing to risk it.

Sam had begun to notice as well, especially as it pertained to the marks on your skin. Dean no longer cared about hiding them and makeup wasn't cutting it anymore.

Sam's gaze was on you as you entered the library one morning, limping slightly.

"You know, I'm really starting to worry about you," Sam said quietly.

"I'm alright," you lied as you lowered yourself into a chair, wincing in discomfort.

"Right," Sam muttered sarcastically. "You can't even sit without being in pain."

"If it keeps him from killing someone, then it's worth it," you snapped back.

Sam fell silent, knowing you were right. He wanted to bring up breaking your promise again, but he knew you wouldn't budge. He worried about how Dean would feel about all of this if he became human again...he knew his brother well enough to know it would kill him to know he'd hurt you like this.

Another week went by in much the same manner, but Dean's urge to kill had only worsened. He still hadn't hurt you outside of sex, but you'd begun to fear him--really fear him.

You'd decided to address the issue with him while Sam was out on a store run. You thought he might take it better if Sam wasn't hovering around.

Dean was sitting in the kitchen, drinking his coffee, when you walked in.

"Hey, D," you said softly. "Can we talk?"

He grunted and gestured for you to continue.

"It's about your behavior the last couple weeks. I-I know the bloodlust is getting bad and to be honest, your temper is starting to really scare me."

He looked up at you with black eyes. "Maybe if you'd let me go out and do some hunting I wouldn't be so volatile."

"You know we can't do that, Dean."

"We," he scoffed. "Since when did you and Sam become 'we'?"

You closed your eyes and sighed, ignoring his question. "You're too unpredictable. You know that better than anyone."

He stood up and took a menacing step towards you. "Give me the Blade and let me go out for a while...one or two kills and I'll be right as rain."

"I can't do that."

"I think you mean won't."

You shook your head. "I can't. I don't have the Blade."

He froze. "What the hell do you mean you don't have it?"

"I-I couldn't risk you getting ahold of it...so I made sure it was safe."

His gaze narrowed, eyes still black as ink. He took several steps towards you, but you backed away until you hit the wall behind you.

He was inches from your face when he growled lowly, "Where is it?"

"I don't know," you whispered.

"What?"

"I don't know," you repeated.

"Where did you put it?"

You were deeply regretting telling him anything at all, but you still blurted out, "I gave it to someone!"

"Who?!"

"I needed to make sure it was hidden where you would never be able to find it," you said desperately.

"Who did you give it to?" he roared.

"Crowley," you whimpered in fear.

Dean punched the wall directly beside your head and you yelped in surprise and fear.

"What the fuck were you thinking?"

You didn't answer--too afraid to push his buttons further. You could feel the rage rolling off him in waves and you felt the cold terror seize your heart.

"Call him and get it back," he ordered.

"No," you whispered. You wouldn't risk Dean getting ahold of the Blade...not for anything.

He pinned you against the wall by your throat, slamming your head back against the wall with enough force to break the skin.

His grip on your throat was painfully tight and you tried desperately to get away. "Dean--" you gasped.

For a moment, you were certain he was going to kill you--you would be the next victim of the Mark's bloodlust and there was nothing you could do about it. Even with his eyes filled with darkness, you could see the boiling rage in them. He wasn't seeing you, he was seeing his next victim.

You struggled against his hold on your throat, trying to loosen his grip enough for you to speak. You smacked your hands against his chest, trying anything to get him to release you.

You suddenly remembered your failsafe--you'd starting carrying it everywhere when Dean became more volatile. You managed to pull the item from your pocket, breaking the lid off as you brought it up and splashed the liquid into Dean's face.

He screamed and released you as the holy water burned his skin. You dropped to the ground, gasping for breath, head throbbing painfully. As you coughed and sputtered, you reached a hand to the back of your head, touching the wound softly. When you brought your hand back down, you saw blood staining your fingers.

At first, all Dean could feel was rage--you'd dared to splash holy water in his face? He'd kill you for it. But then his gaze landed on you as you crouched on the floor, blood soaking your fingers, trying to catch your breath. He looked up and saw the blood on the wall where he'd slammed your head against it and he immediately felt sick.

He stepped away from you, eyes flicking back to green as tears filled them. He hadn't meant to hurt you--even as a demon, he'd never wanted to hurt you. He'd let the Mark's rage get the best of him and he'd nearly killed you.

He backed away to the other side of the room and sank to the floor, dropping his head into his hands. He was ashamed of what he had done and for the first time since he'd become a demon, he felt like a monster.

A few minutes later, Sam came into the kitchen, arms laden with bags. His eyes landed on you first and he dropped the bags as he rushed to your side.

"(Y/N)! What happened? Are you okay?"

Without waiting for your response, Dean spoke up. "I happened."

Sam turned to look at Dean on the other side of the room. He felt angry when he heard Dean's words, but the anger dissipated when he saw the agony etched into his brother's face.

"I-I was so angry..." Dean whispered. "I didn't mean to."

"I'm okay," you rasped, voice hoarse from the trauma to your throat.

The sound of your voice nearly broke Dean's heart in half. "Give me the cure," he said to Sam.

"What?" Sam gasped in surprised.

"Make me human again. Please." The desperation in Dean's voice shocked both of you, as did his request.

"Are-are you sure?" you asked.

Dean looked at you in a mixture of sadness and pain. "I would rather risk death than ever hurt you again."

His words washed over you, warming the ache in your chest. You didn't say anything further--you couldn't find the words.

"Let's go then," Sam said firmly.

Dean stood up and followed Sam down to the dungeon. Sam came back a few minutes later to help clean your wounds. As he cleaned your head wound, he told you he'd secured Dean in the dungeon and he'd called for Castiel.

"We might need some backup for this," he muttered.

You nodded, the simple action making your head throb painfully.

"Try not to move too much," Sam said gently.

"I'm alright."

"What happened?" Castiel spoke from the doorway.

"Dean did," Sam said with a sigh.

"You need to be healed."

"No," you insisted as you held up your hand. "Don't waste what little grace you have left on me."

Cas looked down sadly, but he didn't come towards you. "Where is Dean?"

"Dungeon," you mumbled.

Cas walked away, apparently on his way to see Dean.

Sam finished cleaning your head wound and stood up. "I don't think you need stitches."

"Great," you groaned, standing up slowly.

"Woah--take it easy."

"I'm fine, Sam. We need to do this before he changes his mind."

"Cas and I can handle it."

You shook your head. "I'm not leaving him."

Sam sighed and gave you his arm to hold onto while walking down to the dungeon. When you opened the door, you saw Dean strapped to a chair in the center of the room. Cas stood off to the side, waiting.

"Let's get started," you said softly.

You left the dirty work to Sam--you couldn't bring yourself to hurt Dean, even after everything that had happened.

Listening to Dean's screams and pleas was almost too much for you to bear, but you knew it had to be done. Dean had asked to become human again...and there was nothing you wanted more.

Despite the agony he was experiencing, Dean insisted Sam continue the injections. As much as he would have rather stayed a demon, he was too afraid of what he would do to you if left unchecked.

You closed your eyes as Dean once again screamed in pain. You weren't sure how much more of this you could take, let alone Dean.

Dean noticed your demeanor--could tell your resolve was weakening. "It's okay, baby," he told you breathlessly. "I'm okay."

You opened your eyes and looked at him, unshed tears blurring your vision. He gave you a small, weak smile, which you tried to return. It ended up looking more like a wince than anything else.

"I wanted this, remember? I want this," he insisted.

You nodded tearfully. "I know. I just don't like seeing you in pain."

"We've only got one injection left," Sam cut in gently.

You watched in silence as Sam injected him with the final dose. Dean once again cried out, before falling completely silent, head drooping forward.

"Dean?" you whispered in fear.

When he didn't respond, you worried you had all gone too far...that Dean was dead.

As the three of you stared at the man in the chair, you heard a soft groan escape his lips and he slowly lifted his head. His eyes fluttered open, revealing the beautiful green orbs you loved so much.

"You guys look worried," Dean said softly.

Sam splashed some holy water on his brother, but the liquid had no effect.

You let out a choked sob, beyond relieved to have your husband back.

You thought you heard Sam say, "welcome back Dean," but you were too focused on Dean's face to be sure. His own gaze was locked on yours, tears filing his eyes as he slowly took in the marks littering your skin--especially the bruising around your throat in the shape of his hand.

"(Y/N/N)," he whispered, his voice more broken than you'd ever heard it.

"Uncuff him," you said to Sam, who immediately did as you asked.

Dean stood up, clearly weak from the ordeal he'd just gone through, but nothing would have stopped him from getting to you.

He was a foot or two away from you when you gave in to your own desires, closing the gap between you. You wrapped your arms around him tightly and sobbed into his chest--letting out all the pain you'd kept inside for the last couple months.

Dean's arms held you close, lips pressed firmly into your hair, his own tears streaming down his face. Neither of you spoke--there was no need, not yet anyway.

After several minutes, you finally stepped back, wiping the tears from your face. You smiled up at him and whispered, "I love you."

You saw something flash across his face, but it was gone before you could place it. "I love you too," he murmured.

You stood to the side as Sam hugged Dean, followed by Cas. Everyone was glad to have him back, but you could see Dean was struggling--he clearly remembered every moment of being a demon...and you had no idea what kind of impact that would have on him.

"Alright guys, I think he needs some rest. He's been through a lot today," you interrupted softly.

Dean looked at you gratefully and both Sam and Cas nodded their agreement.

"Come on," you murmured, reaching out for Dean's hand.

He grabbed it and followed you to your shared bedroom. To your surprise, he stopped just outside the door. "I think I'd rather sleep in one of the other rooms."

You looked at him in confusion, but he wouldn't quite meet your gaze. "Okay," you whispered. "Whatever you'd prefer."

You followed him to a room down the hall, waiting quietly as he took off his boots before climbing into the bed.

"Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm alright."

You knew he was most definitely not alright, but now wasn't the time to address it.

"Okay. I'll be down the hall if you need me."

He nodded, but said nothing further. He once again couldn't look at you as you left the room. Sadness laced its icy tendrils around your heart, despite the joy you felt at Dean's return to humanity.

You went to join Sam and Cas in the library, not quite wanting to be alone. You didn't want to talk either, but just being around people you loved made you feel a little bit better.

You knew Dean's road to recovery would be long, as would your own. You weren't sure what trials lay ahead of you, but you knew the two of you would make it through--you always did.

If there was one thing you knew for sure, it was how much Dean loved you--if the last few weeks taught you anything, it was that. Your own love for Dean was equally endless--there was nothing you wouldn't do for him. As cliche as it was, love really could conquer all.

[prentissluvr]

hold me, it's enough — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, descriptions of physical assault, small injuries, blood, pet names (baby, honey), barely edited, 1.6K words. requested !

prompt : "who did this to you?"

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

the cruelest part about tonight is the way you have to call sam to come pick you up, like you’re some child who’s gotten sick at school. it’s embarrassing and makes you feel guilty because your call woke him up. he’d gone back to the motel early to sleep after a long hunt; took the impala after dean disappeared with a girl, leaving you alone in the bar with your own car in the parking lot.

he answers after four rings, voice a little husky from sleep as he says your name questioningly into the speaker.

“hey, sam,” you respond, sighing quietly to yourself, “sorry to wake you, but i– i can’t drive myself back to the motel… any chance you could pick me up?”

you hear the rustle of sheets from the other end of the line, and you assume it’s sam sitting up. “yeah, of course,” he agrees easily, already up and looking for socks to put on. you can’t see the light frown on his face as he picks up on all of the little nuances in your voice. “you don’t sound drunk. baby, is everything alright?”

you figured he’d ask, but the expectation doesn’t remedy your hesitation to answer. “i… sort of got into a fight. hit my head real hard and i don’t think i should be driving.”

the split second after your answer is enough to show you sam’s surprise. “jesus, honey, are you okay?” he asks, worry making his voice thick.

“yeah, yeah, i’m okay. promise,” you reassure him. he takes a moment to consider your words; whether you’re lying for his sake or if you’re actually okay. your voice is clear and, though a little tired, sounds like you’re just fine. you don’t seem dizzy or out of sorts, and sam takes that as a good sign considering it was your head that you hit. so, he relaxes just a touch as he climbs into the impala. you hear the car door opening and shutting through the phone speaker.

“so, you got into a bar fight?” he asks, a touch of amusement in his voice. he’s still worried about you, but that wasn’t news he expected to hear tonight, or really any night at all. sure, you never back down from a fight, but you’re certainly not the type to start one either.

you roll your eyes a little at his tone. “sort of. the guy deserved it. i elbowed him in the guts and he shoved me. he looked utterly terrified when i stood back up and he saw the look in my eyes,” you describe, humor finding its way into your voice at the end.

sam wants to give a little laugh at your joke, tell you that he can imagine the man running away with his tail between his legs just from the look in your eye, but he’s still stuck on the fact that he shoved you. on the fact that he did something that warranted you to resort to physical violence. 

he clenches his jaw before asking, “did he try to touch you?” his voice is low as he presses down on the gas harder.

wishing your comment about the man’s scared look would have been successful in distracting sam, you sigh. sometimes, sam is too damn smart and he thinks too damn much.

“he got a little handsy, but i took care of it,” you reassure him. “it’s okay. pretty sure i scared him off so bad he left the bar.”

sam grits his teeth, trying not to react too strongly in a way he knows you won’t like. “i’m gonna beat his sorry ass.” he settles for angry, but not too much, and not even possible since the fucker’s already gone.

“yeah, i know,” you sigh into the phone.

the bar’s only ten minutes from the hotel, and sam gets there faster than that. he walks into the establishment, eyes scanning the crowded place to find your familiar silhouette seated at the bar, your left elbow resting on the counter and holding a rag and plastic bag filled with ice to your head. he rushes towards you, swiftly maneuvering between tables and moving bodies.

he says your name a few steps before he reaches you, as to not startle you, placing a worried hand on your shoulder blade when you turn to look at him. he sucks in a sharp breath when he sees your face. there’s drying blood streaking down the side of your face, and your eyes betray that you’re much more shaken by the incident than you were letting on over the phone. he curses your talent in sounding much more okay than you really are. his jaw clenches and his eyes are worried and angry.

“who did this to you?” his voice is rough, the words forced out through gritted teeth as he fights to stay gentle. you sigh at his words, able to tell immediately how angry he’s feeling.

“he’s gone now,” you say gently, secretly relishing in how protective he is of you. you instantly feel safer, much more secure with him in front of you. “i’m okay,” you say, knowing he needs to hear those words. “i promise. you know that head wounds always look worse than they are. and i wasn’t lying when i said that my glare scared him completely off.”

sam wants to tell you that he’s going to find this sorry excuse of a man, that he’s going to yell at him and hurt him and show him how horrible of a mistake he made by messing with you, but he won’t say all of that. though he’ll certainly think it. he is thinking it. but he knows that’s not what you care to hear, knows that anger is not the face you wish for him to wear.

“i believe that,” he finally settles on saying, voice softening just a little. “let’s get out of here. clean you up. there’s blood all over your face.”

you nod. another time you might quip ‘i know. it’s my face, i can feel it.’ today, you just let him place his hand on the small of your back and lead you out to the familiar black car. neither of you have to say anything to agree that you’ll come back for your own car in the morning.

sam’s silence is large, and yours is heavy. they stretch alongside each other, running out on the road with the spinning tires and escaping through the half open windows so that when sam sits you down on the edge of your shared bed, they’ve almost run out. each silence lasts until he sits next to you, first aid kit in hand, and he gently cups your face to turn it towards him. your eyes are a little shiny, and his face softens.

“i’m sorry this happened,” he whispers. “i shouldn’t have left you alone.” that’s when it hits you how guilty he’s been feeling this whole time, thinking about how nothing would’ve happened if he stayed.

“no,” you shake your head. “no, sam, this wasn’t your fault.” your voice is full of conviction as you say this, because it’s true. “you couldn’t have known this would happen. you only left because you know that i can take care of myself, and i did. i took care of it, and it’s over now. and i’m okay.”

“honey,” he chides, wishing you’d admit to him how you really feel. though he might start crying himself if he has to keep looking at you with so much blood on your face, so he takes the wet cloth he prepared in the bathroom and begins to gently wipe at your bloodied skin. the redness comes off easily, but he still hates the sight of it on the white cloth. “just because we deal with monsters and demons and horrible shit all the time doesn’t mean that creepy, pushy men are any less gross and scary than they really are. just because you can deal with it, doesn’t mean you should’ve had to.”

you purse your lips, then swallow against tears. the feeling of that man’s hand grabbing your wrist hard is still so visceral, and the way that you’d been so taken by surprise that his strength sent you sprawling to the floor still makes you feel sort of embarrassed. and sam’s soft hands and gentle reassurances are so contrasting, so good to you that it makes you a little emotional. 

unconsciously, your own hand drifts to the opposite wrist where the man grabbed you, the sleeve of your dress shirt wrinkled and skin tender from how strong his grip was. the movement catches sam’s eye, and his gaze darkens once again when he realizes how you were grabbed. you see the anger and guilt resurface on his features and you gently grab his wrist instead.

with confidence, you guide his hand to yours and hold it there, looking him right in the eye. your eyes swim with faith and sincerity as you wordlessly tell him that you trust his hands on you, on the places where you’re bruised and bloody.

“it’s okay,” you say, voice hushed and assured. “this… it’s enough, sam. it’s all i need.” just these few words tell him that you don’t care that he wasn’t there when it happened, that his care and comfort in this moment are enough to make it better. that his understanding and worry and protectiveness still mean so much. that things happen, but you’ll be okay so long as he’s there to hold you in the aftermath.

so he does just that. he cleans and dresses your wound, and holds you close on the edge of the bed until you ask to go to sleep. then he holds you under the covers, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and whispering sweet things, until there’s nothing but soft darkness and his touch left, and you’re asleep.

[just-a-sleepy-idiot]

Castiel Imagine: Winchester!Reader falling asleep on him in the Impala

Content/Warnings: Gender neutral Reader, Younger Winchester Reader

He couldn’t safely teleport anymore since his disobedience, and he was bound to the earthly means of transportation ever since. Dean joked that he looked like a kid in the backseat when he joined you there, you had stuck your head out and jokingly asked which of them was the Mom then. That set off an interesting discussion on the topic, but you whispered to him that Sam was clearly the Mom. Castiel had frowned and curiously gazed at your brothers at that.

Sharing a backseat with you meant a lot of things, it meant that when you hit a part in your book that you particularly liked you would turn to him with a smile and tell him about it. It meant that sometimes you stopped looking out the window with your headphones in to give him an earpiece so he could listen to it as well. You then would return to look outside and rest your head on your knees while he sat still and looked on straight as always. It meant that you would always hand him a bit of your snacks on the drive, despite him explaining to you that he didn’t need food to survive. At some point he just took what you gave him and ate it with his usual stoic expression.

You were very insistent on treating him as their own.

He didn’t know why, but you seemed to care about his opinion on things that he really didn’t know much about. Like politics, or the clothes you were wearing that day. He squinted and tried to find something to say in those moments, „They look.. functional enough.“ He had said after a few moments, „Functionality is associated with comfort right?“ You slightly tilted your head, „I guess, yeah. You ask like you don’t know what comfortability feels like.“ He blinked, „If I can move around that should suffice.“ You somehow concluded from that that he needed a set of ‚lazy day clothes‘, whatever that meant.

This time it was raining heavily, you hardly went forward since Dean couldn’t drive as fast as he usually would in the storm, and he wouldn’t stop complaining about it too.

You had put your book down a while ago as it seemed to become harder and harder for you to stay awake. Increasingly uncomfortable with sitting for hours you had pulled your legs in and shifted a bit more towards him in that notion.

Castiel sat still as always, when his eyes suddenly shifted to the side when he felt a weight on his shoulder. He blinked, swallowing thickly when he felt your face nestle further into his clothes as sleep fully took over you. Your weight must have shifted to eventually sink fully to where he was seated. You were warm, and your lips parted with the soft, steady breathing of slumber.

It was like were suddenly a ton of signals and sensations going on in his form- he usually never got this close to anyone unless it was in combat. But you took over all his senses at once and he didn’t know what to do. Your scent mixed with the smell of rain that streamed in through the small crack of the window you left open. Your warm breath fanned over him, your knee brushed against his thigh.

It was rude to wake up humans when they slept, he learned that through plenty of pillows thrown at his face by Dean so.. so he should just let you be, right? He gazed at the book in your lap, still weakly held onto by your hand. He carefully reached out to untangle your hand from it before it fell down and woke you up, but once his hand brushed against yours your fingers twitched upwards to cover his.

It was so natural for humans to hold each other, their forms completed each other perfectly, like hands. And it came so intuitively to them that even in your sleep you felt and sensed another hand and got closer to it with your own, with the smallest movements your state of sleep allowed you to.

You always treated him like you were equal, and even if he didn’t take as much harm in a situation as a human might you were the first to advocate for his safety. Were you simply.. fooled by his human form? His gaze dropped, the thought somehow caused him disappointment.

Sam and Dean had gotten quiet, both of them had noticed the scene.

„Can I tell you something?“ Dean made eye contact with him through the mirror, both of them agreed. „Sometimes I think Y/n doesn’t understand I‘m not a human.“ Castiel said, quiet as not to wake you. Sam raised his brows and turned a bit in his seat to look at him.

„I don’t think so. I think.. they just don’t know how to show their affection ‚angel like‘. Humans show each other that they like them in different ways, but part of it is meeting the needs of the other human or getting close to them, you know?“ Castiel frowned, „I don’t.“

„Well you don’t need to eat or something like that, and Y/n knows that.“ Dean said, „But they don’t want to exclude you from the group, and they don’t know how else to show affection but the human way.“ He said and shrugged. „They don’t want you to feel left out just cause you don’t need what we do.“

Castiel looked at you again. You.. liked him? You wanted him to feel belonging? He had never expressed that he felt uncomfortable, and sometimes he did feel.. disconnected. Piloting this body around. trying effortlessly to understand and relate to the references and behaviors that came with being Human. The jokes, the conclusions you all seemed to come to simply because you were the same species and family.

He never talked about it, but you assumed or understood it anyway.

Castiel bit his lip and his eyes flicked from your face to your hands, and he carefully intertwined them with you more. Maybe he could show you appreciation by mimicking and reciprocating some of what you were doing. It felt.. like he was doing it right. It felt right, and not only in a technical way.

Hm.

[walkinthrudaisies]

This Love

dean winchester x fem!reader

2.3k | angst, fluff

summary: your relationship with dean winchester was always rocky. when he takes it too far, will he finally realize that the feelings he has for you is more than just hate?

the relationship you shared with dean winchester was unlike anything you’ve ever had.

at first glance, dean was rough around the edges. a type of guy that at one glance, fathers were telling their daughters to stay away from him.

you had met john winchester and his two boys when you were only seven years old. dean had been ten and sam was six, both brothers sticking close together as your dads conversed with each other.

john had come to your father to talk about a hunt that they should team up on, suggesting that leaving dean to watch over you and sam was the perfect way to keep their kids from screwing anything up.

that following week was a strange one. sam was a great form of company, and the two of you became fast friends. dean on the other hand was very standoffish, almost as if he didn’t trust you.

your relationship with dean winchester had formed around him not trusting any of your motives and you thinking he was kind of weird because come on, you were six, what the hell could you possibly do that made dean not trust you.

as the years went on, the two of you never really made any effort to strengthen your relationship. it was like you two were at a joined agreement. you’ll be nice to each other but that doesn’t mean you were the best of friends, or even stayed in the same room alone for more than five minutes.

sam always hated the way you guys interacted with each other. you were his best friend after all, and it would mean the world to him if you and his brother got along.

he also thought you two would be the perfect couple, and secretly had been plotting on getting you guys together since he was eight, but that wasn’t important.

but there was always one hurtle that sam had to jump over to make that happen. your father. since the jump your dad didn’t like dean. he always rambled on about how irresponsible the boy was, how much of a player he’d become and how boys like that would just break your heart.

even now, at the ripe age of 23, your father still went on about how that winchester boy was nothing but trouble, and how perfect you and sam would be together.

you though, had other thoughts on your mind that didn’t revolve around a relationship. you had just graduated university and were looking for something to make you feel fulfilled in life. so why not go and join your best friend with his journey on fighting monsters in america. what could possibly be the downside in that?

oh yeah, his overtly annoying older brother.

the couple of years that you hadn’t seen dean seemed to have garnered a change in the older winchester’s behaviour. before, he would give you a few short words and be nothing but professional and work focused around you.

now, he would stop at nothing to poke fun at you and make your life on the road with him and sam a living hell.

if it wasn’t for criticizing your hunting skills or making fun of how you dressed, he was always taking jabs at you and slewing out snide comments that made tears gather at your lash line.

you couldn’t understand why dean hated you so much. it’s not like anything had changed in the time you hadn’t seen him. yeah you grew your hair out and he became even more of a womanizer than he was before but that shouldn’t be the reason he was acting like this.

today was just like any other. you woke up surrounded by the peeling walls of the most recent motel room, looking out the window to notice how fall had taken over the small town in rhode island.

you had noticed yesterday that there was a public park down the street, and the weather that had greeted you this morning made you very eager to go and check it out.

the next twenty minutes was spent getting ready for the beautiful autumn day. coming out of the bathroom dawning a cream knit sweater, denim skirt, and mini boots with knee high knitted socks, you were startled as the sight of dean sitting on his bed was not something there when you went into the bathroom.

as soon as the door creaked on its hinges, dean’s eyes immediately snapped up to look at you. the look he was sending your way had you fidgeting where you stood, not liking the way his eyes moved up and down to inspect your outfit.

best option you had at the moment was to turn your back to the man and move to your bed so you could grab your purse with your book in it. the sound of dean’s voice had you startled again, but his words had your heart sinking to your stomach.

“you know, a sign saying ‘i’m a loser, someone date me for pity’ would go amazing with that outfit. since that’s the only way any guy would date you.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, but they also lit a rage inside of you that you had never felt before. for once, you wanted dean to know exactly how his words effected you.

spinning around with tears in your eyes, you wound your hand back and landed a loud smack on dean’s cheek. wiping the cocky smirk straight off his face as he just stared at you in complete shock.

not allowing him to even get a breath in, you stuck your pointer finger out and jabbed it directly into his chest. “you’re a fucking dick, you know that dean? how dare you think you have any right to speak to me like that? i have been nothing but nice to you and all i get in return is you being a little bitch. was it something i said? did i steal one of your fucking toys as a kid? because whatever it is probably doesn’t even amount to the shit you’ve put me through.” stepping back, you slung your purse over your shoulder, moving to the door and turning around as your hand reached the door handle. “your tough guy act may work on the girls you fuck and dump like trash, but i’m not falling for it, i never did. so talk to me when you grow a pair and learn to be a fucking man.”

whipping open the door, you noticed sam on the other side, jaw hung open and angry eyes pointed directly at his brother.

you tried to move past him, but he grabbed your arm, turning you around so he could look at the tears streaming down your face. “Y/N-“, “don’t.” the word came out like a bullet, piercing sam’s skin as you yanked your arm away and walked towards the direction of the park.

turning around, sam looked over at his brother. dean had stood up, arms by his side as he gazed at where you had just been. when he noticed sam coming towards him, he tried to explain what had just happened. but sam wasn’t hearing any of it. the second he got close enough to dean, his arm was reeling back and knocking forward to punch his brother in the face.

dean fell back with a grunt, catching himself on the dresser as sam stood in the same spot, anger radiating off of him like tidal waves.

“dude!” dean exclaimed, looking at sam as he steadied himself on the hard wood behind him. “what the fuck?”

“oh don’t even start with that shit.” sam seethed, moving closer so him and dean were chest to chest. “how dare you speak to her like that. what has she ever done to make you so cruel to her?” dean honestly didn’t understand why he treated you so poorly, he had this weighing feeling in his chest every time you were near, and he knew it was nearing close to love, but the thought of that scared him.

pushing people away was always his strongest force. any person who got to close to him either died or got terribly hurt, and dean couldn’t bear for that to happen to you.

rubbing a hand down his face, dean looked over to your bed, seeing the little lamb stuffed animal that you always slept with. “i don’t know, okay! she’s always had this effect on me and it’s terrifying. i don’t want to hurt her, and keeping her at a safe distance worked fine for the first couple of years but now, after seeing her after all this time, i didn’t know how to act.” sam had backed up, staring at his brother with a face so unreadable that dean couldn’t place it.

“those feelings came back, sammy.” dean started. “they came back even bigger than before and the only possible way to push them down was to treat her like shit. but seeing tears well in her eyes make me feel awful, and i don’t know what i can even do now.”

sam was silent for a long time, just staring at his brother with an almost pitiful look. finally, all he could do was sigh, looking at dean as he slightly shook his head. “the only thing you could do is make things right. but don’t be surprised if she slaps you again.”

the bench you had found yourself sitting on was cold on your exposed legs, making you realize how quickly fall was slipping into winter.

you hadn’t picked up your book, your mind to busy playing back the moment in the motel room. your tears had fell the second you turned away from sam, switching to ugly sobs as soon as you found comfort on the bench.

the will of dean’s cruelness had you wondering if there was something wrong with you. all the time you knew him you tired to be nice, but he was just too immature to give it back.

hell, there was even one point when you were fourteen that you had a little crush on him. those feelings had never really gone away, but with all the remarks he’d been making to you recently you could feel the weird fondness for the man slipping into hatred.

the sound of leaves crunching behind you took you away from your thoughts. turning your head slightly, you were taken aback to notice it was dean cautiously approaching the bench, looking at you with eyes that asked if it was okay for him to be here.

there was nothing you could possibly say to him. so you just sat still, letting dean make his way over to you and not making a sound in the process.

when he sat down, neither of you said a word for five minutes, letting the awkward silence take over you both and waiting for the other one to speak. it was dean who broke the silence, sighing to himself as he turned to look at you. “i’m sorry for how i’ve been treating you Y/N, i really am.”

you didn’t reply, keeping your head facing forward as dean continued his apology. “there’s no excuse for the things i’ve said to you, but i just want you to know that when i saw you after all that time i got scared.” his words had you finally turning to face him, giving him the most confused look you ever had. “you were scared? what the hell do you mean you were scared?”

“any person i get to close too, they end up getting hurt.” his words had you shocked, but you continued to let him talk. “and i never want to see you get hurt. so i thought that it would be better if you hated me than letting myself indulge in my feelings and love you.”

was he actually saying this to you? the words coming from dean sounded sincere but you just couldn’t believe it. his reasoning was stupid, you didn’t doubt that. but dean had a hard life. his mother dying when he was young, getting raised as a hunter. he grew up with people leaving him, not knowing what actual love felt like, so there was no surprise that he acted the way he did when he finally got a taste of it.

you weren’t excusing his actions. dean had hurt you terribly and made you feel as though you didn’t mean anything. but you strived in being a forgiving person, and dean was honest enough to apologize and explain himself. so why not just give the poor guy the benefit of the doubt.

softly smiling, you moved your hand so it was resting over dean’s, giving it a small squeeze. “as a kid, i thought that what i felt for you would go away. but it never did. i wished for years that you would say you loved me back, but now i just need time. you have a lot of making up to do dean winchester, this isn’t going to be like some hallmark movie where i instantly forgive you. you have to work for it.” you could practically see the tension rolling off dean’s chest, a look of relief forming on his face as he squeezed your hand back.

“don’t worry sweetheart.” dean enthused, standing up from the bench and reaching his hand out to you. “i would wait forever if it meant that i could finally be with you.” you and dean had a lot of patches to fill up. but for now, the only thing you could do was grab his hand and give him a small kiss on his cheek, symbolizing the start of your efforts on fixing your relationship.

[nuemanfilms]

Problem | S.W

Summary when Sam and Dean are stumped on a case, Dean dials your number for help despite knowing how things ended between you and Sam. Atleast you both didn’t have any hard feelings.

Warnings unprotected piv (wrap it), praise, creampie, car sex, semi-public sex, pet names (Baby, Sweetheart), Riding, Boners in awkward situations, fem!user, angsty start, mentions of self hatred, mentions of the breakup, Dean being Dean, not really a sub/dom dynamic between the two, 2k words, let me know if i missed anything!

A/n deans kinda the cupid LMAO, this was so fun to write. Comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

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

The case that Sam and Dean were assigned wasn’t exactly as easy as they initially thought. Sam wasn’t exactly that focused on it anyways, and Dean could see that guilt that Sam had attempted to his for months.

Ever since Sam broke things off with you, he regretted every moment of it as each day went past. He remembered how the tears stained your cheeks, he remembered how he was the one who made them appear in the first place. And he hated every single second of it. He thought he was protecting you, he wanted to protect you. Just, he didn’t want to upset you in that way, that wasn’t the way he intended.

He really was a dumbass wasn’t he?

You always helped him and Dean through cases, you were the one who kept Sam at bay when he woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. You kept Sam grounded, and losing you was one of the worst mistakes he’d made since losing Jessica.

You were there for him when he needed it, and Sam mentally kicked himself everyday for hurting you that night. He didn’t think he could forgive himself.

Dean saw the way Sam’s demeanor changed, he saw the look of guilt and regret on his younger brother’s face when he walked back into the motel room. And he hated every second of seeing Sam like that.

Dean probably shouldn’t have interfered, but the brothers were both stumped on this case. Sam’s lack of focus didn’t exactly help either. So, Dean called you.

“Why would you call her, Dean? She probably doesn’t want to even see me.” Dean sighed at his brother’s wrecked state.

“Sam, as much as I know you regret it, this could give you a chance. Well, both of you have a chance to fix things.” Dean tried to explain, yet Sam just argued.

“She probably hates me.” Sam held his face in his hands, his head was already starting to throb just at the thought of your possible hatred against him.

“She doesn’t. She wouldn’t have agreed to come if she did, okay?” Sam looked up at Dean, mentally cursing himself for knowing that his brother was right.

When Sam was about to respond, the doorknob twisted. Your figure stepping into the motel room.

You looked better than when he last saw you. He looked at you. Seeing that your eyes were already trained on him had him feeling something he couldn’t identify himself. But what he could make out from your gaze was that there was no anger behind your irises.

He wanted to greet you, but the words were stuck in his throat. Sam didn’t even know how to begin. He was lost in his thoughts before Dean interrupted, “There’s a house a few blocks from here, the last thing that anyone witnessed was around there.”

Making the way out the door to the Impala made Sam keep his eyes on the concrete before he finally got to the passenger side. He didn’t even know if you wanted to speak to him, and he highly doubted that you did.

The car ride seemed agonizingly slow, the silence was loud, even though the sound of radio was heard, Sam couldn’t pull himself out of his thoughts until the car came to a stop. He sighed, opening the door hesitantly to step out. He could feel your eyes on him, but he was too scared to look back.

When the door opened and shut behind you and the brothers, you could already feel the strange aura of the house.

“You two, go look upstairs. I’ve got down.”

Sam tensed, yet he complied. His footsteps cautious as you followed behind him.

The walk was silent before you spoke up, startling Sam.

“I don’t hate you for what happened, y’know.” Your voice was quiet, but Sam heard it. His shoulders slightly relaxed before he had the courage to respond, “You should, I was a dick to you that night.” He muttered, you stopped in front of him.

“Sam,” He finally made eye contact with you, your gaze was soft.

“I know- I know things didn’t end ideally, but do you really think that I think that low of you?” Sam remembered that tone, the tone that you used when he always talked down to himself. He knew how that annoyed you.

“I didn’t want it to go like that, I didn’t want you to get hurt because of what.. we do.” He admitted, before you could respond he pulled you into the small space of a closet. Slapping his hand against your mouth to keep you quiet. Whatever that creature was, it was most likely about to get you both.

You could’ve protested, you could’ve made Sam let you go, but you didn’t. You relaxed against his chest, not even bothering to move.

The feel of you against his body again, even if it was clothed, it felt relieving knowing that he had you in his arms again. Despite the situation that you both were in.

He carefully lifted his hand from your mouth, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. He didn’t realize that the closet was this small until he tried to move away from you. Only to be met with the wall.

“Sam,” You whispered, he didn’t respond. You started again, “Sam!” he snapped his head towards you, seeing your hand on the door knob.

“It’s jammed.” You sighed, he internally cursed himself, he should’ve known. You’d both have to wait until Dean found you both after killing the creature.

This wasn’t exactly the appropriate time for him to think those thoughts, but in his defense, it’d been months since he’d even seen you, or have you pressed this close against him. He could feel the body heat radiating from your much smaller frame.

Your ass pressing against his front, despite it being accidental, had him cursing his hormones for even forming the bulge in his jeans. He prayed that you couldn’t feel it, but the universe never really was on his side.

“Sam..” he froze, you definitely felt him pressing against you. He had to prepare himself mentally for your next words, “Do you seriously have a boner right now? Out of all times?” You knew he couldn’t exactly control it, but you also found it a little funny that his body would have this reaction in the most inappropriate situation ever.

“I- I can’t help it..” He had to stifle a groan when you pressed further back against him, “Stop. Stop moving-“ His hands flew to grab your hips in an attempt to still them. He was grateful that the closet was dark enough so you couldn’t see his flushed face.

He could already imagine the teasing smile appearing on your lips. Could this seriously get any worse?

“Just- Dean’s going to find us soon, can you try and ignore it? Please?” He pleaded, and he heard your small laugh, “Yeah, sure.” You had to suppress your laughter, you both didn’t exactly need to get caught by whatever was lurking anyways.

Finally, after at least a few moments, Dean found you both. He already had a smirk curling on his lips when he saw you guys’ compromising position.

“You two look… cozy.” Dean teased, “Shut up, Dean.” Sam grumbled, he had expected that smile on your lips that was forming.

The walk to the Impala was torturous, between trying to ignore his brother’s teasing and trying to get his little problem under control.

The drive was nearly worse. And of course, Dean was pulling into a bar. The engine shutting off had Sam sighing in relief.

“Are you both staying here?” Dean checked, Sam definitely wasn’t prepared for your response.

“Yeah, go.” Damn it, that shit-eating grin on Dean’s face made Sam mumble something under his breath. When the car door shut, you waited for Dean to get at least closer to the bar door before you spoke, “Is your problem still an issue?” Sam froze, this time he was stiff enough to be seen as a statue. He gulped before whispering a response, “Uh, N-No?” He stuttered, you hummed in response. Climbing from the backseat into the front and taking your place in his lap. His legs parted slightly on instinct.

“Do you know how hard it’s been to sit in that damn apartment without you? How annoying it is to lay back in my bed without you there to help me come?” He was taken aback by your words, but you always were bold on what you wanted.

Sam could stop the words that flew from his mouth, “I- please.” Your eyebrows shot up, even though that was exactly what you wanted to hear, you were still surprised. When you grinded your hips against his now more obvious bulge, his hands now gripped on your hips faster than before. You knew the effect you had on him, and he let out a soft moan from his parted lips.

You leaned in, just a few millimeters away from his lips. Your breath hitting his lips made him finally press his own against yours. You were still for a minute before melting into it, your lower half pressed more firm against his pelvis. Your hands traveled to his now grown out locks, your fingers giving them a tug had him letting out a groan against your lips.

You pulled back for a moment to slide your shirt over your head, sliding your shorts down as best as you could leaving you in lace. You planned this didn’t you? Sam should’ve known, yet he was too focused on your lips back against his to even give a damn.

His hands roamed over your body, his lips trailing down from your own to press open-mouthed kisses to your skin as he worked his way down to your collarbone. You moaned, your hands eagerly working on his belt to get him freed from his confines.

“Fuck, you should’ve called sooner.” He smirked against your flesh, “If I did, I wouldn’t be able to have you like this right now.” You slid his belt out of the loops, your fingers pulling down the zipper. You were getting aroused yourself, you already were on the car ride.. but you were practically soaking your panties now.

When he met your lips again, your hand had already slithered its way into his boxers. You took his length in your palm and he let a groan slip past his lips. His lips parted just the slightest and he felt your tongue enter his mouth. The kiss becoming messy, but it still held so much passion and desperation that was pent up for the months spent apart.

He pulled away for a second, looking down as you lined him up with your entrance.

“Are you-“

“Yeah, yeah I'm on the pill.” He was about to let out a sigh of relief before he felt you sinking down on his cock. Fuck, he missed this.

He kissed you again, trying to distract you a little from the stretch of him filling you again. You were still the best he’d ever had. You gasped against his lips as he bottomed out.

“Sam..” You whined, it’d been so long. Normally he would have prepared you with his fingers, but he knew you were both too desperate for foreplay.

“Shh, you’re taking me- fuck, taking me so well, hm? ‘S okay, baby.. it’s gonna feel good soon, okay?” He cooed, you bit your lip. The fact that anyone could have seen you both slipped past your minds.

After a few moments, you lifted yourself up before finally sinking back down. Setting a pace yourself with his hand going down to assist you while the other trailed down to your puffy button. Your moans were pornographic, it’s not like Sam’s noises were any less vulgar. Despite the small space of the impala, you always managed to make it work as it wasn’t exactly you guys’ first time doing this.

“Yeah- atta’ girl.. see? Feels good, doesn’t it?” He finished the sentence with a moan of his own. You nodded your head, but you knew he wanted words. He always did, and you didn’t hesitate to provide.

“So good, Sammy- feel so good inside m’ pussy..” You praised, he groaned at your filthy use of words. He bucked his hips up involuntarily and you let out a cry. The creamy ring forming at his shaft had him holding back his impending orgasm just at the sight of it. He wanted you to come first, he wanted to feel you let go.

“Mm, yeah- that’s it.. good girl.” You let out a sound between a moan and a whine at his encouragement. Sex had always been so pleasurable between the two of you. You always fit together perfectly.

When your moans became more drawn out, he knew you were close. The way your hips were stuttering, requiring his help to keep you moving, and the way you hid your face in his neck.

“Nono.. let me see you. Let me see your pretty face, hm? Let me see my girl when she comes..” You lifted your head, your lips were swollen from his kisses, and the pleasure was getting so much especially with his two fingers rubbing at your clit with no intention of slowing.

“Can I? Can I come, Sammy?” You pleaded, you always begged so nicely, how could he refuse that?

“Yeah, Sweetheart. C’mon, let me feel you squeezing me..” You stilled for a moment, the steamy, hot pleasure rushing to your core had you crying out his name as you came. He wasn’t that far behind. He helped you ride out your orgasm, his fingers drawing away from your bud so both hands could help your movements on his cock. He let out more groans, and finally emptied himself inside of your abused cunt.

“Shit, Baby..” Your breathing both heavy as you attempted to calm down from your orgasms. Sam grabbed some random napkin from the dashboard to help clean you up at least for the time being. He’d properly clean you when you were both at the motel.

You whined as he lifted you off his cock, his release threatening to spill. Luckily, your panties were back on before it could. He helped you into the backseat as he then tucked himself back in his boxers, zipping up his jeans. He’d fasten his belt later. He quickly exited the car to enter the backseat. Carefully sitting in the spot next to you.

Your head leaned into his chest, he smiled at your content, satisfied state. Knowing he was the one who caused it had washed the guilt from earlier clean.

“Won’t let you go this time, promise.” You smiled, “Good, because I'm not leaving anytime soon.”

[fictionalwh0ree]

4+1 - dean winchester

summary: four times you and dean almost got caught together and the one time you actually got caught. word count: 3.5k warning: swearing, meantions of sex

4.

you and dean had an agreement. strictly friends with benefits. a person to fuck on the road. thats all you’d wanted at first, and you’d both agreed with it. you’d quickly come up with a system, one that was functioning well for the first year, but as you felt more comfortable with it, the closer you’d gotten to slipping up. of course, sam had no idea, and it was going to stay that way.

on your hunts, you always had a separate motel room, sometimes adjoining, but always next to each other. once sam had gotten over his nightmares, he became a heavy sleeper. he was also an early riser, which meant he was usually in bed before dean. so when sam was fast asleep, dean would set up his pillows to look like he was there and would sneak next door, giving you a special knock. you’d put pillows between the headboard and the wall so there wouldn’t be any noise and you’d fuck before dean would retreat back to his room. you went through the motions over and over, satisfied with the outcome.

one specific night, you’d finished slaying a vampire nest before going out for a couple drinks to celebrate. sam was knocked out within twenty minutes of getting back. you yourself were exhausted, almost falling asleep in your bed as you waited for dean. just as your eyes shut, you heard the knocking at the door. you got up, stumbling on your feet, the alcohol still in your system. you would be the first to admit that you’d drank a little more than you were used to that night.

“y/n,” you heard the whispered voice on the other side of the door.

odd, you thought. dean never did that.

you opened the door, finding dean swaying back and forth with a large smile on his face.

“dean, are you drunk?” you laughed, pulling him inside.

“they have the tiny bottles in the mini fridge,” he beamed.

you shut the door behind you and when you turned around, dean was already shirtless. he kissed you quick, you could taste the whiskey on his lips, just like he could taste the vodka on yours. things got heated, the night ending the way it had many times before, but this time was different. once dean had pulled out, he flopped down onto the bed beside you. you waited a couple minutes, turning over in bed to face away from dean. soon enough, you felt him flip over too, before wrapping his arm around your middle and pulling you closer.

“dean,” you said.

“hm?” he mumbled.

“you have to go back. you know the system,” you said.

“shhh. just a couple minutes then i’ll go,” he mumbled.

“only a couple minutes,” you warned as you snuggled into his hold.

it didn’t take long before the two of you were completely passed out, forgetting about what you’d said. you only awoke the next morning when you heard some knocking on your door. you opened your eyes slowly, feeling deans arm around you. you sat up, shaking the boy who hadn’t so much as stirred at the sound.

“dean,” you whispered aggressively, “dean.”

“huh?” he said as he woke up, confused as ever.

“y/n, are you there?” you heard sams voice on the other side of the door.

“yeah, one second!” you called out.

“go hide in the washroom,” you told dean.

“what time is it?” he asked, still confused.

“6 in the morning,” you said, rushing him to the washroom.

“that kids such a freak,” dean said, rubbing his eyes.

you threw his clothes at him and he grabbed them before going in and shutting the door. you threw on a tshirt of your own and underwear before going to the door and opening just enough to get your head through.

“hi sam,” you said, fake yawning.

“hi, i hate to wake you but have you seen dean at all? he’s not in bed or the washroom,” sam said, concerned.

“dean? no. why would i have seen him?” you laughed awkwardly. you really hated how you were an awful liar.

“i- i don’t know. thats why i’m asking,” he said, confused.

“maybe he went for pie, you know how that fatass loves his pie,” you joked.

“right,” sam said, narrowing his eyes and licking his lips before continuing.

“y/n is there someone else in there?” he asked.

“ummmm,” you thought for a second.

“yes, from the bar last night. i called him. he- he’s just in the washroom right now,” you smiled slightly.

“okay, sorry to bother you,” he said before turning around.

“sam,” you called out, causing him to turn, “your brother can hold his own, you know that. if he’s not back by 8 we’ll go looking for him, okay?”

“okay, thanks,” sam said, smiling genuinely before walking back to his room.

you shut the door, letting out a sigh of relief. dean carefully opened the door, peeking his head out. he gave you a sheepish smile as he stepped out.

“no more sleepovers.”

3.

being a hunter had many downsides, but one of the worst was how you could go from being somewhere where you’d freeze without a sweater at night to somewhere where you practically had to sleep naked to keep cool in the span of a couple days. your last case had been up in some town in the mountains in montana, where even in mid july, the days were only ever warm. for the first couple days, you’d had few leads, not even knowing what creature you were hunting, only knowing something was up. this meant the three of you were split up. sam spent most of the day back at the motel doing research while you and dean were out talking to people and gathering information.

of course, being alone with dean meant research wasn’t all you were doing. one particular day, you’d been told that a person of interest in your case frequented a dingy little bar. you decided you’d have a little stakeout, parking outside it before realizing that the place only opened in an hour. so with nothing else to do and an empty parking lot, you knew what was coming. it wasn’t long before you were straddling deans lap. as the kisses got more heated, dean pulled your sweater off, kissing down your neck and moving down to your chest. he planted a couple hickeys right on your boobs. before it could go any further, you spotted who you were looking for walking into the bar and had to go back to work. you’d basically forgotten about the hickeys seeing as you would be living in long sleeves and sweaters for a while.

however, in an unexpected turn, you’d found the information you needed and were able to take down a demon that’d been plaguing the town within the next day. sam quickly found a possible case and you were in the car before nightfall.

that’s how you’d ended up in arizona. the sun was blistering all the time and the night brought no relief. when you’d gotten to your motel room, you sifted through your bag, searching for any top that would cover the pronounced hickeys on your chest, but nothing worked. the next morning, you stepped out ready to work in some ugly bleach stained tshirt, which was all you could find. when sam and dean saw you outside the room, they gave you an odd look.

“y/n, are you sure you wanna wear that?” sam asked.

“uh, yeah. whats wrong with it?” you asked, laughing nervously.

“well, we’re supposed to be county police, and that outfit doesn’t exactly scream police,” he said.

“yeah, i’m with sam on this one,” dean agreed.

you forced a smile as you looked at dean, mad that he had put you in this position.

“you’re right. i’ll change. i’ll meet you guys in the car,” you said.

you threw on a tank top, one that covered all but one very purple hickey. on top of that, you wore a thin long sleeve. you got in the backseat of the car and dean started to drive. sam looked back at you, the same puzzled expression from earlier on his face.

“y/n, it’s almost 100°?” sam said.

“i’m feeling a little cold today,” you lied.

“are you catching something? are you sure you don’t wanna stay back?” sam asked, reaching out to feel your forehead.

“i’m fine sam,” you said as you smacked his hand away.

when you arrived at the victims house, you stepped out of the car. the three of you spoke to each other, standing just by the hood of the car, as you discussed facts. within the two minutes you were outside, you had already begun to sweat in the sweltering heat. you couldn’t take it anymore. you walked away and pulled off your long sleeve, throwing it into the backseat. you walked back to the brothers who were standing side by side. they stopped their conversation as you tugged at your top, trying to move it to cover what you knew they were staring at.

“y/n, what is that?” sam said, eyes darting between your chest and face.

“what’s what?” you said, not able to meet his eyes.

“that,” he said, pointing at it.

“oh, this?” you said, looking down at it while sam nodded, “it must be a bruise from that demon bitch. can’t even feel it.”

“uh huh,” sam said, seemingly unconvinced, but he didn’t care more to ask.

he dropped the subject and began to walk towards the house. dean hung back, a stupid smirk on his face.

“nice ‘bruise’ sweetheart,” dean said.

“shut up.”

2.

your hunt had almost been jeopardized because of dean, meaning he was confined to his car. dean’s fake identity had fallen through with your main witness, so sam took it upon himself to get information out of him with bobby. the guy, who was a major asshole, also had little respect for women. he’d thrown one too many weird comments your way and couldn’t seem to take you seriously, which meant you were also confined to dean’s car. sam and bobby went into the pub the man frequented, ready to sit and have dinner with him. he was bound to be inside for an hour or two, but dean refused to go anywhere else, wanting to make sure his baby brother would be okay.

that didn’t mean you couldn’t have any fun, though. dean got into the backseat with you, and with rock music playing in the background, the two of you started making out like a couple high schoolers. the night was pitch black, no moon out, you knew it would be hard for anyone to see the two of you. for about thirty minutes, you made out, deans hands under your shirt fondling your breasts while your hands ran up and down his toned torso. dean pushed you back gently so you were laying down. he began to kiss your jawline, moving down to your neck. his hands moved till they were at the bottom of your skirt. he pushed it up. as he tried to blindly push your underwear to the side, you worked at his belt.

just as dean unzipped his pants, you heard a noise outside. bobby and sam were talking just outside the car. you and dean jumped apart when you realized, you quickly threw your ring under the car seat as dean did his belt back up. you fixed your skirt and got on your knees on the car floor just as sam opened the door.

“what’re you two doing?” bobby asked.

“i dropped my ring,” you said quickly.

“oh look, found it,” dean said, smiling as he handed it to you.

“anyway, what’re you two doing back so soon?” you asked.

“he didn’t show,” sam said, a suspicious look on his face as he stared at the two of you.

“what?” dean said.

“yeah. weird, i know,” sam responded.

bobby’s eyes flickered between the two of you with his eyes narrowed. his attention only diverted by sam hitting his arm gently.

“bobby, bobby,” sam called, “there he is.”

“shit, okay. see you guys later,” bobby said.

he gave the two of you one last knowing look before shutting the car door.

“that was a close one,” dean said, breathing a sigh of relief.

1.

you really wished things were different. you prayed that the feelings would go away, but it was only bound to happen. you and dean had been hooking up for over a year and you’d been harbouring feelings for at least six months. you learnt how to suppress it, knew how to hide it from everyone. that is, until you got jealous. you were close to wrapping up a hunt and had stopped at a bar in the evening. it wasn’t unusual to see other girls hitting on dean, i mean, look at him. you tried to get used to it and usually you did a good job of being nonchalant, but for whatever reason, you were having a really hard time that evening. maybe because your period was coming up, and it was making you see yourself different all while messing with your emotions. maybe you felt especially jealous because you thought the girl dean had his arm around was gorgeous, and was everything you wanted to be but couldn’t. your eye twitched as you watched him laughing with her. you were practically fuming, until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“that an ex?”

you turned your head to find a ruggedly attractive man smiling while looking in deans direction.

“something like that,” you said back, turning your attention to him.

“jonah,” the guy introduced himself, reaching his hand out.

“y/n,” you said, shaking it.

“well, y/n, that right there is my ex girlfriend. what do you say we make them a little jealous,” he said, pointing at some girl who was sitting at the bar by herself.

“sure,” you smiled.

“let me buy you a drink?” he asked.

you nodded your head, following him to the bar. as you talked and laughed, you could feel deans eyes on you. jonah, who was sitting with his back facing his girlfriend and facing dean, would let you know if dean glanced your way, you doing the same for him. the guy was nice, he threw a couple flirty comments your way, but knew what was too much. you hit it off, having endless conversations. once enough alcohol had flowed, you were feeling tipsy, and when they played your song, you couldn’t help but drag jonah to the dance floor. you faced away from him, your ass rubbing up near his crotch as you swayed with the music, drink in hand. you were having such a good time, you’d barely even noticed deans death stare. before long, you felt another tap on your shoulder. you turned to face dean, an angry look on his face contrasting the satisfied look on the girl from earlier’s face.

“listen, you and sam are gonna have to find your own way home. i’m leaving,” he said.

“well, dean, sam might have to find a way home on his own, which i’m sure won’t be a problem since he’s so used to it,” you said through a fake smile.

“whatever,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“hey man, do we have a problem here?” jonah asked.

“no man, she’s all yours,” dean said before turning around.

unbeknownst to either of you, sam was sitting at the bar and he had overheard the whole ordeal. he got out of his seat, following dean and grabbing his wrist before he could walk out of the door.

“dude, what was that about?” sam asked.

“nothing, dude just gives me bad vibes,” dean said before walking out.

+ 1.

the previous night at the bar had been something else, something you’d never expected. the three of you wrapped up the case quick, but tension was high, it was obvious. sam barely spoke a word but you could feel his discomfort. you and dean were angry. dean hadn’t said anything to you and you noticed how his jaw clenched and unclenched as he drove. you were sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed looking out the window. the sun was setting already and you were set to leave missouri the next morning, but sam really wasn’t looking forward to a car ride with the two of you guys like this. so, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

“so, do you guys wanna go for a drink? to celebrate?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“no,” was all you said.

“can’t, taking that chick from last night out for dinner,” dean said.

“have fun,” you said sourly, your eye twitching.

“i will,” dean said firmly.

that didn’t help, sam thought to himself.

you arrived to the motel and you went straight to your room, while dean just dropped you guys off before taking off himself. you sat in your room, packing angrily while muttering to yourself. once you were all packed up, you waited for sam to finish in the shower of the joined bathroom before you hopped in yourself. you used it to unwind a little, and felt a lot less tense once you’d come out. you put on a tank top with some pyjama shorts and were just about to sit down to watch tv when you heard a knock on the door. you looked through the peephole, only to see dean standing outside with a tub of ice cream. you opened the door with an angry look on your face.

“your date bail on you?” you asked with your hands on your hips.

“its a peace offering,” he said, handing you the ice cream.

you took it and put it in the mini fridge. dean was right behind you, trailing you around the room.

“what do you want dean?” you asked as you turned on the tv, not bothering to look in his direction.

“the usual?” he said carefully.

“are you serious?” you scoffed.

dean stayed quiet as he stared at you.

“do you seriously think i’m gonna fuck you?” you laughed angrily.

“well, i-” dean started.

“are you trying to give me an std or are you just stupid? you were with a different girl last night,” you said meeting dean’s eyes.

“i didn’t sleep with her,” dean confessed.

“wow, didn’t think i’d live to see the day where dean winchester lies about not sleeping with a girl,” you sassed.

“i’m not lying to you,” he said.

“right, so you didn’t sleep with her last night so you took her out to finish the job tonight?” you asked, raising your eyebrows with a sarcastic smile.

“no, i was with her for like half an hour before i left,” he admitted, getting angry himself.

“why? she talk too much for you? didn’t get straight to it?” you smirked.

“no, goddamnit y/n,” dean yelled, catching you off guard yourself.

“then what, dean, what? what am i not getting here?” you yelled back.

“is that really what you think of me?” he shouted.

“i don’t know what to think about you anymore,” you shouted back.

“you wanna know the truth y/n? really?” he yelled.

“yes dean, enlighten me please,” you yelled.

“i didn’t stay because she wasn’t you. i didn’t sleep with her because she wasn’t you,” he shouted.

you went quiet, not knowing what to say to him.

“look, last night was wrong of me. i shouldn’t have done that, but seeing you with that guy, i just got so angry,” dean admitted.

“if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you like me, winchester,” you said, getting closer to him.

“shut up,” he said as he planted a kiss on your lips.

“say it,” you coaxed.

“well, i guess i was thinking maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if, you know, you and i were a thing,” he said, unable to meet your eyes, a blush covering his cheeks.

“thats funny because i’ve been thinking the same thing,” you smiled up at him, his green eyes twinkling as he looked down at you.

he closed the gap between your lips, kissing you gently. you smiled into it, and so did he, only interrupted by someone clearing their throat. you split up, turning to see sam standing in the bathroom doorway.

“door was open,” he said, a half smile on his lips as he looked between the two of you.

“oh,” dean laughed.

you hid your face in deans chest, your cheeks were burning up.

“i’m gonna head out for a minute, give you two some time alone. the walls are thin,” he said as he walked away.

“congrats, about time,” he shouted before he shut his bathroom door.

[ninii-winchester]

Crossed Allegiances

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 7.5k

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff, spn spoilers, language, canon violence. Not proofread.

A/n: had to split in two because the long fic has become too long.

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

"Hurry up." Said the man in hushed whisper, his voice barely audible in the dead of the night.

"You're going to regret this, you know?" She whispered back, her voice was soft. She wasn't threatening him, rather she was scared for what might happen after.

"Don't make me change my mind." He replied. His words held no malice. They were more of a plea for her to hurry up. Before he could speak any further, she pulled him into a tight hug. He wasn't shocked at her action. He was used to her embracing him whenever the opportunity presented itself. Although he hated when she did so, this time he held her back and cherished these last moments with her.

"I'll owe you. For the rest of my life." She whispered lowly.

"You won't. You just be safe." He said pulling away from her. She nodded her head in a silent promise that she wouldn't be reckless and be safe. She looked at face, remembering every last detail, his short dark brown hair, the scar on his right cheek, his eyes, knowing this would be the last time she ever sees him in a very long time.

With a loud gasp Y/n sat up in her bed. Her forehead was covered in sweat as she heaved looking around. She relaxed a bit as she realised she was in her room, in her apartment.

It wasn't a nightmare per say that woke her up from her slumber. It was a memory. A memory buried in the back of her mind that she doesn't want to forget or remember. She wants to remember the last time she was with the most important person in her life but she wants to forget how she got here. She wants to forget how it was the last time she ever saw him and how she has no way of contacting him without risking his life.

With a heavy heart she dragged herself out of the bed, making her way towards the bathroom to get ready for her day.

Y/n L/n, a twenty four year old woman, who lives in Lebanon, Kansas for the past five years. She lives alone in her one bedroom apartment. Works two jobs, at the local bakery, near her place, during the day and as a bartender at the bar during the night.

She doesn't necessarily need the money. She works to keep herself busy. To keep herself from sitting idle and remembering the things she desperately wants to forget.

Making her way towards the bakery, she was the first to arrive there. It has always been like this, she's the first to arrive and the last to leave. She fumbled with the keys, her breath forming small clouds in the crisp morning air. With a soft click, she unlocked the door and pushed it open, the familiar scent of fresh bread and vanilla greeting her.

Y/n flipped the sign from "Closed" to "Open" and stepped inside, her movements practiced and efficient. She turned on the lights. The countertops were spotless, and the display cases were lined with freshly baked goods from the previous day, waiting to be restocked.

Soon her coworkers arrived and the bakery came to life with the customers filling in, and the aroma of rising bread and sweet pastries, filling her with warmth she lacked in her life.

Y/n's day went as usual, being in the back, finding solace in the warmth of the kitchen and  taking pleasure in baking goods.

"Hey Y/n." James, her co-worker called out. "Can you take the counter please? Ellie isn't back from her break but mother nature's calling me!" Y/n laughed, nodding her head. "Thank you you're a life saver. I owe you." He yelled running towards the bathroom and she just grinned. She didn't mind helping out.

Y/n made her way outside and stood behind the counter. Rush hour had passed and there weren't many people in the bakery. Just an old man enjoying his cupcakes, and a young couple having donuts with coffee.

The front door opened and the bell chimed indicating someone had walked in. Y/n prepared herself to greet the customer but the minute she looked at him, the air was knocked out of her lungs. He was gorgeous. She stared as he came closer, noting his eyes were the greenest eyes she'd ever seen.

"Hello!" The man said as he finally stopped in-front of her. His voice snapped her out of her trance, it was velvet smooth.

"Hey, what can i get you?" She cleared her throat flashing him a smile.

"Pie." He said with a childlike excitement. "The banner outside said it's Special Pie Day."

"Sure is. And it seems to be your lucky day mister, we're down to our last slice." She smiled before moving to get him his pie. She placed it in a takeaway box and gave it to him and he thanked her before paying for it.

"Have a nice day!" She said to him.

"You too." He replied before walking out.

The rest of the day Y/n spent thinking about of the handsome stranger. After closing up, she went home, she ate the leftover pizza and took a shower. Dressed in her jeans and a blue crop top she left home for her other job.

Time went by as usual, drunk fights, pool hustling and bad karaoke. After serving another patron Y/n wiped the counter top. She threw the paper towel into the bin it missed, so she squatted down to pick it up and throw it in properly this time. She jumped a bit when she stood back up and saw green eyes sitting on the stool.

"What can i get ya?" She questioned the handsome stranger. He recognised her from earlier.

"A beer please."

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're stalking me." She teased him putting the bottle in front of him.

"Nah, sweetheart. You just happened to be at two of my favourite places." He flashed her a charming smile.

"I haven't seen you around here before." She leaned a bit on the counter trying to remember if she's ever seen him before.

"Just passing by. But a good pie and beer, key to my heart." She nodded her head in understanding, it wasn't the places that were his favourite rather the items.

"Did you like the pie then?" She couldn't help but ask. She knew she was at what she did but it never hurt to ask for a bit of validation.

"Best damn pie I've ever had." He exclaimed.

"Then I guess I've unlocked your heart." She grinned at him.

"You made it?" He questioned and she nodded eagerly. She didn't know what it was about this stranger that made her act like a high school girl but she was having fun. She liked that she had his attention. She wanted to get to know him, even if he was just passing by.

"Well it was some pie..." he trailed off looking at her, hoping to get a name.

"Y/n." She filled in. 

"Dean." He introduced himself.

"So what brings you here Dean?" She asked hoping to find more about the extremely gorgeous man sitting in front of her.

"Work." His vague answer told her he didn't want to talk more about it. So she dropped it. He asked her a few questions about her life here, he didn't ask her any personal questions so she was happy to indulge him. After he was finished with his third beer, he got a call and had to leave, much to her dismay. Fifteen minutes after he left, her shift was over and she headed home.

It was a silent night as she walked in the dark. She could feel another presence behind her and she knew she was being followed. Whoever it was, it's his bad day. She wasn't just a girl and she was really waiting for him to jump her just so she could beat the daylights out of him. But he didn't, and she couldn't risk him follow her all the way to her home so she slowed her steps, and then completely stopped.

"I know you're there." She called out. She moved towards the alley behind the dumpster and saw a figure in the shadows. The figure moved back as she approached him. Another pair of footsteps could be heard from outside the alley. She grabbed the shadow's arm and placed her forearm over his neck, pressing him into the wall, slightly cutting of his oxygen. As she pushed him to the wall, the light from the street lamp shone on his face. "Dean?" She questioned. "So you are stalking me!" His eyes widened as she said that.

"No, this isn't what it looks like!" He replied in a hushed voice.

"Three time's not a coincidence, Dean." She snapped. The sound of another pair of footsteps was getting louder. Dean rolled his eyes, not at her but the approaching footsteps.  Soon enough a man appeared in-front of them and Dean managed to break free from her hold and pushed her behind him. The man in front of him snarled as he barred his teeth in a menacing display. They weren't teeth Y/n noticed. Fangs.

The vampire lunged at Dean and the hunter was quick, getting his machete out of his jacket he charged at him. The vampire pushed at Dean's chest, throwing him against the wall, his machete slipping off his hands. The creature, closed in on Y/n. With calculated moves, she kneed the monster in the stomach.  The green eyed hunter watched as she reached over and picked Dean's machete, beheading the monster in one swift motion. Dean stood up but his jaw was still on the floor.

It was true that he was following her but the other two times he met her was purely coincidental. When he met her at the bakery, he just thought she was pretty. The next time he saw her at the bar, it was pure coincidence, after talking to her, he found her enticing. But then he got the call from his dad asking about his hunt and he remembered he was here for work. So he went back to his motel for research, however during his research he noticed that vamp was taking a certain type of females. Girls with Y/e/c eyes, y/h/c hair and the ones with a specific body type. His mind flashed with an image of Y/n and he immediately left his motel. His assumption had been true since the vamp actually came after her but he didn't expect her to do what she did.

"What did you do?" He asked her.

"Killed him, obviously! And saved your ass." She snapped folding her arms across her chest.

"Damn it Y/n, I could've followed him to his nest." He argued. "I'm gonna have to start over now."

"You wanted to use me as bait? Are you fucking kidding me?" She glared at him. "Stop hunting if it's such a bother to do your job in the first place."

"I wasn't using you as bait, I came to save you. If you hadn't killed him, I would've made him tell me where the rest of them are." He retorted. "Are you a hunter?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"No." She replied unfolding her arms and walking over to the dead creature's body. She patted his pockets hoping to find something that could lead them to his base. Dean scoffed at her response.

"Are you seriously going lie to my face after I just saw you decapitate a vampire?"

"I'm not a hunter Dean." She answered through gritted teeth. She found a cellphone in the vamps pocket, she threw it at Dean who caught it effortlessly. "That might help you." She said walking away.

"Hey.!!" He ran behind her and grabbed her arm as he caught up to her. "I could use the back up, you know." He tried to convince her with his captivating smile. She gave him a deadpan expression. "C'mon sweetheart, I'll owe you." He didn't give two shits about back up. He just didn't want her to leave too soon. Now that he knows he can be himself in front of her, he just wants to spend a bit more time with her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, he fidgeted under her scrutinising gaze and she smirked. "C'mon, out with it, sweetheart." She demanded in a teasing tone. Dean let out a huff.

"I thought you were pretty. But now I think you're smoking, you're badass and it's hot so can you blame a man for wanting to spend some more time with you?" He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. "Besides you seem to know about this stuff and it's just a cherry on top."

"You could've just said so. Besides now that I think about it, you actually might need backup." He rolled his eyes at her teasing, knowing he's completely capable of holding on his own. "Lead the way." She motioned him to lead the way.

He took her to the Impala and she settled in the passengers seat. It wasn't long before she found herself out a cheap motel. He guided her inside his room and she could see the beds were still made, a few empty beer bottles were placed on the table with his laptop sitting on it. 

"May I?" She gestured to his laptop and he shrugged. She took a seat on the chair, before she could open the computer he jumped a bit before snatching it from her. He gestured her to wait a minute and closed all the tabs before giving it back to her. She gave him an amused look and he looked sheepish. "The phone." She raised her palm out in front of him. She went through the messages, the recent one stating,

Get back ASAP. -Rick

Y/n quickly traced the number and a few minutes later the computer pinged. "I got it." She turned the screen towards Dean and he was impressed by how quickly she found their target.

"Let's go, sweetheart."

It didn't take them long to arrive at the vampire's nest. They quickly sneaked inside the abandoned building, Y/n's grip tight on her borrowed machete. She scanned the area before moving in stealthily. Dean right behind her. As they ventured further into the building, a bit of chatter could be heard over loud music coming from upstairs. The duo nodded at each other and made their way upstairs. It all happened in a flash, Y/n noticed they were seven of them and charged fearlessly. Slashing heads after heads. One of them had managed to knock the machete out of her hand but she didn't falter, she jumped a bit and spin kicked the vampire which made him fall a few feet away with a loud thud. That gave her the opening to grab her weapon and end his life.

Y/n and Dean panted, covered in blood with victorious grins of their faces. Dean had witnessed how she'd kicked the vamp and he was impressed. This girl was astonishing him every second. He wanted to know her, he needed to know the girl who denied being a hunter but fought better than one.

"I believe a celebration is in order." Dean said holding his hand out to her. She grabbed it without hesitation.

"My place, Deano." She whispered in his ear and he swore he felt his blood rush to all the right places. After burning the bodies the two got into the Impala, driving to her place. She let him inside her apartment and closed the door behind her.

"Drink?" She questioned walking into the kitchen. Dean nodded. "Have a seat, make yourself comfortable." She gestured to the couch.

"Nah, don't wanna ruin your couch, sweetheart." Dean replied as she came back with two bottles of beer. He took one graciously and took a big swig.

"Then why don't you strip, sweetheart." He mentally groaned as he's never met a woman like this before. He swore if he was capable, he would've fallen in love with her. Her eyes watched how his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Leaving her bottle on the coffee table, she moved toward the bathroom. She tossed her top at him before disappearing inside.

"Fuck, this woman." Dean groaned before joining her inside. She was waiting for him under the shower in all her naked glory. Dean didn't waste anytime before stripping off his clothes and joining her. He stepped under the warm water his chest pressing against her back. She could feel his length pressing into her back. She turned around, slamming her lips into his. He grabbed the back of her head, pulling her closer, their lips met in an incredibly intense kiss, charged with a raw, electric heat. The kiss deepened, becoming fierce, that left them both breathless and craving more. He groaned into her mouth.

"Fuck i gotta take you to bed." He growled. As much as he loves a good shower sex he needs to take her to bed, he needs to have a taste of her sweet nectar, he wants her to fall apart on his tongue at least twice before has his way with her, before he spilts her open. Most of all he wants her to enjoy this as much as he does, he wants her to be comfortable.

She nodded before turning off the shower. He picked her up effortlessly, and threw her on the bed. He kissed her once before making his way down between her legs. He buried his head in her core. Lapping at her juices like a starved man. As much as his body ached to be inside of her, he needed her to come undone on his tongue. And she did. Hard.

"I could eat you all day, fuck you're sweeter than any pie I've ever had." He praised kissing the inside of her thighs.

"Dean." She whimpered. "Need you." She was needy for him, she had never wanted a man as much as she him and she didn't even know his last name.

"Patience, baby." He rasped. Fuck, his voice alone was enough for her to lose every last thread of her sanity. And his expert mouth and fingers had her wanting, begging for more.

He hovered above her, his hand resting beside her head. His other hand tracing all over her body as his mouth left open mouth kisses over her neck and chest. Although she was loving being submissive for him, she was running out of patience. Pulling him down slightly she flipped him on his back, moving up to straddle his waist.

"Easy, princess." Dean teased as she positioned herself and sunk down on him. He groaned loudly as he sheathed inside her completely. "Fuck baby." He grunted as she started moving.

"Dean." She gasped as running her hands all over her body. Throwing her head she moved faster.

"Say my name, just like that." He flipped them over so she was under him again. Pulling her legs over his shoulders, he pounded into her. She didn't remember the last time a man had her screaming his name over and over until it was the only thing she remembered. He pressed his lips onto hers, one of his hands wrapping around her throat, adding slight pressure making her roll her eyes in the back of her head. She kept repeating his name like mantra, with each snap of his hips.

After hours of immense pleasure, she'd lost sense of her surroundings, lost count of the times he's made her come, she didn't even know if it was night or day anymore. All she knew that this enigma of a man was making her feel things she'd never felt before. She came back to her sense as she felt Dean rub gentle circles on her skin.

"You okay, sweetheart?" She nodded slowly. "You were amazing baby girl." He grinned at her handing her a glass of water he brought for her.

"You were fantastic." She responded as he settled in the bed with her. He laid back pulling her down to rest her head on his chest. Pretty soon the day's exhaustion took over and she drifted off to slumber.

"We have to. I have to." A blonde girl muttered with no emotion.

"No we don't." She replied looking somber.

"You don't understand, there is no other way." The blonde girl took a step closer.

"We will find a way. This doesn't have to happen.!" She exclaimed walking backwards.

"I am sorry." Was the last thing she heard the blonde girl say.

A loud scream, woke Dean from his slumber. He shot up and watched Y/n sit up beside him. Her eyes were wide open and she was out of breath.

"Hey hey! Sweetheart, just a nightmare, yeah?" Dean nodded at her, slowly coaxing her.

Not just a nightmare.

"Yeah!" Dean gathered her in his arms, placing a kiss on her head. He didn't know why but his is heart was aching for the girl in his arms. He felt the need to protect her. He gently laid her back on the bed, his arms tightening around her. She felt safe in his arms. She wanted to ask him to stay forever. But she knew she couldn't and she knew he wouldn't.

Dean's woke up as he heard vibrations coming from somewhere. He snuggled into her neck further, but his eyes flew open as he realised it was his phone buzzing. He slipped out of the bed, tripping on his feet as he rushed towards his phone. He somehow managed to pull it out of his jeans before it stopped ringing.

"Fuck." He cursed as he saw the called ID. It was his dad. "Yeah Dad!" He said answering the phone. "Yeah. No, I forgot. It's done." Dean waited for his father to finish speaking so he could go back to the baddie in bed, cuddle her, wake her up with his head between her legs. But his father ordered him to be back in three hours. Since there's no use for him to stay there if the job's done. "Yes, Sir." Dean muttered before hanging up. He knows it's a long drive and he'd only make it in there in three hours if he left right now. There's no time for a quickie and the thought made him groan.

Y/n yawned and stretched as she woke up to an empty bed. She tried not to feel disappointed that he was gone; she knew he would leave eventually. But she had hoped for at least a goodbye. She heard footsteps approaching. Dean emerged through the doorway and flashed her a smile.

"Good morning."

"I thought you left," she mumbled, pulling the covers closer to her body. He inched closer, then kneeled on the bed before her.

"You really thought I'd leave without saying goodbye?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with surprise and amusement. He nugded her nose with his before pressing his lips to her. She gasped as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She pulled him closer, pulling him above her, but he pulled apart. "As much I'd love to, I have to leave. My dad called." He explained kissing her pout.

"Alright."

"This is goodbye?" Dean questioned.

"You can stop by whenever you want." She shrugged. Dean nodded.

"Do you think I can call you for backup?" He asked getting dressed.

"Don't you even dare." She threatened even when they both knew they hadn't exchnaged numbers, they didn't even know anything about each other apart from their names. He chuckled placing one last kiss on her lips before leaving her house.

Over the years Dean often thought about Y/n. She was the only woman ever that made Dean's heart leap out of his chest. He was beautiful, fierce, a badass when it came to hunting, but still had a graceful feminine touch to her personality. He was pretty sure she had ruined every other woman for him. His hookups were all meaningless and never enticed him to go for another night. He had every intention to go back to Y/n, visit her, maybe beg her to come with him. But due to this life, he never got the opportunity. Part of him stayed away because she didn't want to do anything with hunting, and he wasn't sure if he could bear her rejection. So he never tried.

Ten years had passed the bakery owner Mrs. Reed passed away and left the bakery in Y/n's name as she had no kin of her own. And she loved Y/n dearly. The old woman knew she was passionate about her job and was worthy of owning the place.

Dean never came back. Y/n never expected him to or even remember her. Y/n was thirty four now. Dean had managed to leave an impression on her. She tried not to think of him often. But this is life. You meet people, you remember some, you forget some. But there's some people she desperately wanted to forget but yet her mind wouldn't let her.

She stopped working at the bar ever since she inherited the bakery, but she still visited the bar on weekends. Having a drink or two. Had she known what awaited her, she would've never left her house that day. Y/n was by the pool table, a glass of whiskey in her hands as she watched the game between between two bulky men.

Her eyes wandered around the place ever so often. Her breath caught in her throat as she made eye contact with those blue eyes. She gulped down her drink in one go. She hoped he didn't recognise her but the smirk on his face said otherwise. She watched as one of men was positioned to take his shot, she accidentally stumbled into him ruining his shot. The large man turned to her and she cowered back in fear.

"He told me to do it." She pointed to his opponent and the large man turned to him. Grabbing him by his collar he threw a punch at his face. A fight broke out, creating enough diversion for her slip away.

"That was clever Y/n." A voice said from behind her as she walked out of the bar. "But you should know it isn't enough to outrun me." She stepped dead in her tracks as turned to face him. There was no way to run. Now that he knows she's alive, there's no way she could ever run. 

"Mr.Ketch." She stuttered taking a step back.

"I never believed you died." He took a step forward. His thick accent still the same as she remembered. "Even if you were nineteen, you were one of the best." She watched in anticipation as he inched closer. "Though I never thought I'd run into you in America."

She was terrified of him. If it had been anyone else, she would've tried to run. If it had been anyone else, she might've felt relieved that they hadn't hurt her yet. But this was him—ruthless, calculating. The more he stalled, the more her fear grew. He liked to make his prey think they had a chance to escape. He liked the chase.

"Mr.Ketch." She spoke again, but she didn't even know what else to say.

"I just don't understand how'd you do it? How did you run from the Men of Letters. And more importantly why?" He circled around her. "Ah you know what, don't bother. I'm not interested."

"Why are you here?" She finally mustered the courage to question him. "I have been living a normal life, I haven't told anyone anything about the Men of Letters." She added feeling the need to explain.

"Don't flatter yourself, darling." Arthur snipped in his usual tone. "I'm not here for you, though it is a pleasant surprise to see you here." A moment of silence passed and Ketch gripped her arm tightly. "Now that I think about it. You're coming with me." She knew struggling against him would be a waste of her energy. He dragged her towards his vintage looking motorcycle.

The ride was short, she didn't recognise where he was taking her. They stopped in front of what looked like a base, located in a hidden bunker. It appeared to be deeply hidden and fortified. He placed his hand on the biometric scanner, the security gate opened and he dragged in her inside the by arm.

He nudged her move on her own, he opened a door to what seemed to be a briefing room. There were screens placed all over the place, some showed maps, locations and security footage of God knows what places. A huge table with chairs was set up in the middle. The door opened for a second time and someone entered the room while her back was to the door.

"Look what I found." Ketch announced, turning her around forcefully. Her heart stopped for a minute when her gaze landed on the newcomer. Those eyes, the ones she memorised fifteen years ago, stared back at her with an unreadable expression. That scar across his right cheek was the same as she remembered.

"Mick." She breathed out. He was frozen in his place. He never thought he'd ever get to see her. He had always hoped and prayed for her safety. Seeing her back in the same hell again, the one he rescued her from, he didn't know how to feel.

She didn't care if she shouldn't have done it in front of Ketch but she ran straight into his arms. Her best friend. The one that helped her when she it needed the most. The one who risked his life help her run. As the initial shock wore off, Mick wrapped his arms around her. Hugging her tightly, not wanting to let go. He'd missed her.

"Well, isn't it heartwarming." Ketch said sarcastically, from behind her, making them pull apart.

"What do you want from me?" She snapped, her fear now turning into anger and frustration.

"Now that is a very good question, darling." Ketch clicked his fingers before towering her. "What do you think will happen when the Elders find out a rogue hunter is alive?" He sneered as he spoke. "They'd issue your death warrant. And trust me I would love to carry out those orders."

There was no doubt that he was right, Y/n knew and Mick did too. They would have her killed. The main reason Mick declared her dead was to ensure they would never look for her ever again. And that plan had been successful for fifteen years- until today. Until Ketch found her.

"I have a job for you. Complete it, or you won't live to see another sunrise." Ketch said retrieving his gun from his gear. "So what's it gonna be?" He questioned pointing the gun to her head.

"What's the job?" Ketch smirked at her answer and Mick let out a resigned sigh.

"Eliminate the Winchesters. From within."

Y/n didn't know who the Winchesters were or why the British Men of Letters were so concerned about them. But knowing Ketch as she did, she was sure he wouldn't hesitate to assassinate the Winchesters if it weren't so complicated.

"Mick here will tell you whatever you need to know," Ketch said, grabbing his stuff. Turning to her, he added, "And Y/n, one wrong move." He warned, pointing his gun at her to emphasize that he wouldn't hesitate to shoot. She nodded meekly before he left.

"Oh god." She let out a breath as the menacing man left the room. She turned to Mick embracing him again. He patted her back, calming her down. "How have you been?" She asked pulling away to look at him.

"I've been better. I'm ecstatic to see you, but I'm terrified for what might happen to you." He replied, his familiar accent soothing her. She gave him a small smile.

"Don't worry about me, Micky." He rolled his eyes at her for using his old nickname she'd given him. "I've had a great life thanks to you. After I'm done with these Winchesters, I might end up killing Ketch and maybe we can run away. I'm not leaving my best friend behind this time." She said sounding determined.

"Sure thing kiddo." He ruffled her hair. She pouted slapping his hand away. She hated when he did that.

"Fill me in about these Winchesters." She said plopping down on one of the chairs.

"They're brothers. American hunters, currently residing in a Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon, Kansas." Mick stated sitting beside her.

"What's Wretch's beef with them?" She questioned. Mick let out a laugh knowing who she was referring to.

"It's not a personal conflict. They're meddling with business." Mick replied.

"Such as?"

Mick gave her a look. She immediately understood that the Winchesters weren't fond of their methods. The British Men of Letters had no regard for collateral damage, as long as their goals were achieved. It was one of the reasons Y/n got out. She had had enough of having innocent blood on her hands.

"And why can't that cunt deal with them himself?" She asked.

"They've proven to be a bit unpredictable. They've outsmarted him. And they're resilient as hell." Mick informed her, a smirk appeared on her face.

"I like these Winchesters. At lease someone gave Wretch hell." She snickered. Mick chuckled before dropping a file in front of her. The file was labeled as 'Winchesters'. She flipped the file open and read through it.

Sam and Dean Winchester. The name Dean brought back memories, her mind flashed with the images of the green eyed hunter. Her eyes widened as realisation hit. Dean, American Hunter. She flipped through the file for a photo. When she found one attached to the page with a paperclip, she removed it and inspected closely. The man in the photo looked familiar, he no longer had that boyish charm on his face, he looked her older. But those eyes. Those green eyes.

Son of a bitch.

Y/n mulled things over, he probably won't even remember her. But does she want to play puppet for Ketch. She ran away from this god forsaken organisation for a reason. But then she knew Ketch wouldn't just kill her. He would torture her, mentally and physically. She could bear the physical pain being inflicted onto her but she knows he would drag Mick into this to break her. And she can't let that happen. She owed him her life, her happiness, those fifteen years she spent as a normal human being. He'd always treated like a little sister and she'd seen him like the big brother she never had. She can't let anything happen to him. She won't.

"I guess I got work to do." Y/n mumbled closing the file. "Call Wretch." She told Mick. The man nodded and called Ketch. The man came back with a stoic look on his face. "Final goal?" She questioned.

"On our side or dead." Ketch replied.

"When I do this, you'd better keep your pestering ass out of my way. And don't you dare show up anywhere near me!" Ketch scoffed at her threat. "I'm serious, those guys hate your guts and I don't want to be seen with you. Don't want your incompetence to mess up my work." This triggered Ketch and his face twitched a bit but he held back.

"Be my guest." He taunted before leaving again.

Mick helped her get back to her apartment. She dropped on her bed as she formulated a plan.

Plan A, get them to be partners with the British Men of Letters.

Plan B, Elimination.

She hoped it never came to Plan B.

Y/n knew her best shot at getting close to the Winchesters would be Dean. She'd read about them, the British Men of Letters had kept an eye on them for a long time. She knew Sam would be a bit suspicious of her but given her past with Dean, she could manage to accomplish her mission. Out of all the places in the country, Y/n never thought Dean would settle down here, in Lebanon. How come she never ran into him she wondered, but then again, she never went out much, just the bakery or the bar. It makes her question why he never visited her. Maybe he did forget about her.

Y/n visited the bar Dean visited frequently, according to the files. She'd been here for the fourth day in a row and he hadn't showed up yet again. She wanted to run into him accidentally, just so he wouldn't get suspicious of her. It wasn't unlikely for him to bump into an old fling at the bar. It would be completely coincidental. The door to the bar opened and walked in the green eyed hunter she'd been waiting for.

If he looked gorgeous back then Y/n didn't know how to describe him now. His features a bit more rugged, his hair a bit tousled, a bit of stubble present on his jaw and she pressed her thighs together, wanting to feel that scruff between her legs.

She downed her drink quickly as she watched him take a seat on one of the stools by the bar. She quickly made her way towards him. She lightly tapped on his shoulder and waited for him to turn around.

Dean wasn't in the mood to be bothered by anyone, and he certainly didn't want to deal with an annoying woman clinging onto his side. He presumed if he'd act uninterested, whoever it was, would leave him alone. But they persisted, tapping on his shoulder once again. He grumbled before turning around, ready to tell the intruder to fuck off but time froze as he did.

Dean didn't believe his eyes, it was Y/n. She was right in front of him. In the flesh. She logged a bit older than the last time he saw her. Her y/h/c was a bit longer, her body had grown, in more ways than one. She was a pretty girl but she's turned into an even more beautiful woman. He blinked a bit when he heard her call his name.

"Dean? Dean, you zoned out."

"Fucking hell. Y/n!" It wasn't a question. It was an exclamation. He remembered her. "Goodness, sweetheart. Look at you." Dean beamed. "Still beautiful as ever."

"And look at you, still charming as ever." She replied with a grin. He missed her. He missed this. She was the only woman who could tease him and match his flirty banter.

"How have you been?" Dean asked her.

"Been good. Though I'm a bit upset." She pouted. Although she was doing a job, she couldn't help but say what she felt.

"Why is that, sweetheart?"

"Well you're here, and you didn't visit." She replied honestly. He hadn't expected her to say that. He never thought she'd want him to visit her. "Is there a girlfriend or a wife I should know of?"

"None." He replied. At his answer she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, his arms immediately circling her waist.

"Missed you." She whispered in his ear making him shudder. The woman that has been invading his dreams for the past ten years is back in his arms and he was losing control. He dragged his nose through the column of her neck, inhaling her scent.

"Missed you too baby." If she was being honest, being back in his arms made her forget why she was there in the first place. Although she'd barely spent 24 hours with him in total, she'd missed him immensely over the years. "Let's get out of here, yeah?" She nodded, he turned and threw a few bills to cover for his beer. His arm never leaving her waist, he pulled towards the Impala. "You still live at the same place?" She nodded again as he pulled the car out of the parking.

They reached her place soon enough but none of them were eager to rip their clothes off of each other. With his hand tightly clutched in hers, she pulled him to the couch Dean's strong arms encircle Y/n, holding her close against his chest, where they can feel the steady beat of his heart. His warmth surrounds her. Dean's fingers lazily trace patterns on Y/n's back, his touch gentle and reassuring. Y/n nestles her head against the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent she missed so much. It hasn't even been an hour since she was back in his arms, and she's already considering telling Ketch to fuck off.

"What have you been up to these days?"

"Hunting. What about you?" Dean shifts slightly, pulling Y/n even closer, and presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. There's a quiet contentment in the air, the kind that comes from being with someone who makes you feel safe and cherished. Neither of them knew just how desperately they wanted each other, until now.

"Ah same old. I'm the owner of the bakery now. And i stopped working at the bar."

"That's amazing, sweetheart."

"When are you leaving?" Her question echoed through the quiet apartment. He tensed slightly; he hadn't told her he lived here now. He wasn't ready for her reaction upon discovering he'd been living here for years and never bothered to visit. Not this soon But he knew he had to come clean sooner or later. If he wanted something more with her—something real this time—he needed to tell her the truth.

"I'm not." She looked at him with curious eyes, although she knew he was living in the Men of Letters bunker with his brother. She knew almost everything about him— yet here she was, pretending. She hated doing it. "I live here with my brother. Have been for a while."

"I see." She replied looking down at his chest. A part of her was hurt that he had been living her and he didn't come find her. If Ketch hadn't appointed her with this job, she would've never met Dean again.

"Cmon, don't be like that, sweetheart. I wanted to come see you. I just thought maybe you'd moved on, had someone in your life. We didn't exactly make any promises." He rubbed the back of his head. "Besides, I don't think I would've been able to handle seeing you with someone else." A smile broke onto her features at his admission.

"There hasn't been anyone. No one was the flirty green-eyed hunter." She grinned up at him. It was the truth, she did meet other people over the years but they weren't Dean.

"I was wondering, if you'd want to give us a real chance? I know this is sudden, we just met again-" she didn't let him complete, she stopped him mid sentence by pressing her lips to his.

"I'd love to." Y/n was now questioning her own skills; she hadn't been on a job for fifteen years. The lines were blurring for her. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to complete this job or get herself killed by Ketch. Whatever it was, she didn't care in that moment. She wanted Dean. And he was willing to himself to her.

Dean stayed the night but nothing happened. Y/n served Dean the pie in her fridge, she loved how his face lit up like a child. Even after years his love for pie was still the same. The curled up in bed, catching up on each other's lives they missed over the years.

"Your best friend is an angel?" She looked at him incredulously. He chuckled at her reaction and nodded.

"Yeah. He's more like a baby in a trench coat."His laugh made her smile sadly. The more he told her about his life, the more she was second guessing this job. Is she really going to kill him and his brother if they don't cooperate with the British Men of Letters.

"I'm sorry Dean." He looked down at her with a questioning gaze. "The years haven't been kind to you." She pressed a soft kiss to his chest. "I can't even imagine how you'd felt, going to hell, purgatory. I'm so sorry." She cupped his cheek, staring in those green eyes that'd seen so much. There's pain but there's adoration, for her.

"It's in the past." He shrugged nonchalantly. He didn't know what possessed him to tell her his life story but he wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to be emotionally connected with her, he wanted it to be real, more than just a physical relationship. "Go to sleep, sweetheart." He kissed her forehead as she snuggled closer to him.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

[lila-lou]

✨Obsessed - Pt. 2✨

Summary: After weeks of searching, you finally found Dean. However, he was no longer the man you had been in love with- but more importantly, no longer the man who never returned your love. Because now, in his twisted state, he was somehow obsessed with you.

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, Angst, Hurt, Violence, Humiliation, naive reader

Word Count: 6577

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

When you woke up, the room was filled with the soft light of dawn. Dean was still beside you, his breathing steady and deep. You watched him for a moment, taking in the peaceful expression on his face.

Suddenly, Dean shifted, his eyes cracking open slightly. He caught you staring at him and grumbled, “Stop staring at me”. His voice was rough with sleep, but there was a teasing edge to it.

Before you could respond, he reached out and gave your ass a hard squeeze under the blanket, making you wince. “Ow!”, you exclaimed softly.

You were ready to talk about last night, but before you could say anything, Dean seemed to sense what you wanted to discuss. To prevent the conversation, he pulled you with a firm grip onto his lap, urging you onto your knees. You gasped, completely caught off guard as he grabbed his erection and brushed the tip over your clit.

“Dean, wait”, you tried to protest, your voice shaky and uncertain. But the sensation of his touch, combined with the surprise of the moment, left you breathless.

“Shh”, he murmured, his voice low and commanding.

Dean used the hot tip of his erection to brush over your clit, each movement sending shivers of pleasure through your body. He was relentless, knowing exactly how to get you wet and ready for him. Your breath hitched, your hands gripping his shoulders for support as your body responded to his touch.

“Dean”, you gasped, your voice trembling with a mix of protest and desire. “We need to talk about—”.

“Not now”, he interrupted, his voice firm.

You bit your lip, torn between the need to address the previous night and the overwhelming sensations he was eliciting. As he continued to tease you, your body began to give in, a slick wetness forming between your thighs. The tip of his erection moved with expert precision, brushing against your clit in a way that made you arch your back and moan softly.

“See?”, he murmured, his lips grazing your ear. “I know what you need”.

Without warning, Dean grabbed you by your hipbones and pushed you down onto his thick cock. The sudden, intense angle made you cry out, a mix of pleasure and the lingering soreness from the night before overwhelming your senses. He filled you completely, stretching you in a way that was both painful and exquisite.

“Dean”, you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The fullness, the pressure, the heat of him inside you—it was almost too much.

He groaned, the sound deep and primal, his hands tightening on your hips. “Fuck, you feel so good”, he muttered, his voice thick with desire. He began to move, lifting you slightly before pulling you back down onto him, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

You tried to brace yourself, your hands gripping his shoulders as he set a relentless pace. The soreness and the pleasure blended together, creating a heady mix that left you breathless.

"Dean”, you moaned, your voice trembling.

He stopped his movements, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “Move”, he urged, his voice a low growl. “I want to watch you ride me”.

Your breath hitched at his command, but you nodded, willing your body to comply. Slowly, you began to move, lifting yourself slightly before sinking back down onto him. The sensation was overwhelming, the mix of soreness and pleasure almost too much to bear.

Dean’s hands stayed on your hips, guiding you as you found a rhythm. “That’s it”, he groaned, his eyes dark with desire. “Just like that”.

You moved with him, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. Each motion sent waves of pleasure through you, building steadily until it was all you could focus on.

Dean’s grip on your hips tightened as he watched you intently. “You’re so good at this”, he groaned, his voice filled with a mix of amazement and lust. “For someone who wasn’t fucked until yesterday, you’re damn perfect at it”.

His words sent a new wave of heat through you, making you moan louder as you rode him. The combination of his praise and the intense sensations of being so deeply connected to him was intoxicating.

“I can’t… it’s so much…”.

“You’re doing so good”, he murmured, his hands guiding your movements. “Just let go, Y/N. Let me see you come again”.

You felt yourself teetering on the edge, the pleasure overwhelming. With a few more thrusts, you were pushed over, your body convulsing as your climax ripped through you. You cried out his name, your nails digging into his shoulders as you rode out the intense waves of pleasure.

Dean followed you over the edge, his own release shuddering through him as he buried himself deep inside you. His hands gripped you tightly, holding you close as you both came down from the intense high.

Breathing heavily, you collapsed against his chest, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. You felt beyond weak, your face flush against his naked chest as he held you close, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

Dean chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Damn, Y/N, you’re already a natural”, he teased, his voice a mix of amusement and pride.

You winced slightly, the soreness making itself known as you shifted against him. “I didn’t think it would be this intense”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dean’s grin softened into something more tender. He leaned in, biting your neck gently, just enough to make you shiver. “You’ll get used to it”, he mumbled against your skin, his breath warm and tantalizing.

His words, combined with the feel of his teeth and lips on your neck, sent another wave of heat through you. Despite the soreness, there was something incredibly comforting about his confidence and the way he held you. “Dean…”, you started, but your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

He pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a mix of affection and amusement. “Trust me, Y/N”, he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It’ll get easier".

You nodded, feeling reassured by his words. “Okay”, you whispered.

Over the next few days, you and Dean spent almost all your time together. Mostly, you spent it tangled in each other’s arms, exploring the newfound intensity of your "relationship". Dean showed you a lot, teaching you about pleasure and pushing your boundaries. Though he tried hard to hold back and control himself, your body was now covered in bruises. The marks were a testament to his passion and your vulnerability.

He seemed to lack any real sympathy for the bruises, and your days together were devoid of genuine feelings, soft kisses, and tender moments. The coldness in his demeanor during the day contrasted sharply with the way he sometimes watched you at night, brushing his fingers gently over your body while you slept.

Still, you stayed, because having Dean’s attention solely on you was intoxicating. His possessiveness, his raw desire, and the way he looked out for you made you feel needed, even if the emotional connection was strained.

Sometimes, you caught glimpses of the old Dean, the one who cared deeply, but those moments were fleeting.

During the nights, you often woke up to find him watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. His touch was gentle then, almost reverent, as if he was afraid to break the fragile bond between you. But come morning, the tenderness would vanish, replaced by a cool detachment that made your heart ache.

Despite his coldness, Dean ensured you were always looked after. He made sure you ate, rested, and had everything you needed. His way of caring was practical, but it was there nonetheless.

Unknown to you, the new Dean, the twisted version of him, was obsessed with you. If he could feel love, he would be in love with you. This obsession drove his actions, his need to possess and protect you in his own, often harsh, way.

One evening, you and Dean decided to go to a bar. It was a rare outing, a chance to escape the intensity of the motel room for a little while. You hoped that a change of scenery might help ease some of the tension between you.

The bar was dimly lit and crowded, a typical dive with the smell of beer and faint smoke lingering in the air. Dean found a table while you went to the bar to get drinks for both of you. As you waited for the bartender to fill your order, you felt a presence behind you, too close for comfort.

“Hey there”, a guy said, leaning in. His breath smelled strongly of alcohol. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone?”.

“I’m not alone”, you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m here with someone”.

The guy ignored your words, his hand sliding down to grab your ass. You gasped, freezing in shock.

But before you could react further, Dean was there. His eyes darkened with a deadly intensity, and without hesitation, he grabbed the guy by the throat, lifting him effortlessly. With a guttural growl, Dean slammed the man through the window, glass shattering around them as they crashed onto the pavement outside.

You stood still frozen, watching in horror as Dean followed with heavy, threatening steps. The cool night air hit your face as you stepped through the broken window, your heart pounding in your chest.

The man lay on the ground, dazed and bloodied from the fall. Dean didn’t hesitate. He loomed over the man, fists clenched, and then he began to punch, each blow landing with sickening force. The guy’s face quickly turned into a bloody mess, his cries for mercy growing weaker with every hit.

“Dean, stop!", you screamed, rushing forward. “You’re going to kill him!”.

Dean’s eyes flickered to you for a brief second, but he didn’t stop. The rage and obsession had taken over, his need to protect and possess you blinding him to everything else.

You grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away. “Dean, please!”.

It took a moment, but your voice finally seemed to reach him. Dean paused, breathing heavily, his fists covered in blood. He looked down at the nearly unconscious man, then back at you, his expression a mix of anger and confusion.

“He touched you”, Dean muttered, as if that justified everything.

Before you could respond, a few other men from the bar rushed over, trying to pull Dean away from the beaten man. “Hey, back off!”, one of them shouted, grabbing Dean's arm.

Dean's rage reignited instantly. He turned, swinging his fist and connecting with the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling. Another man lunged at Dean, only to receive a brutal punch to the stomach, doubling him over in pain. Dean was unstoppable, his anger and strength overwhelming anyone who dared to come near him.

“Dean, stop!”, you cried, desperately trying to pull him away. Your hands wrapped around his arm, but he was like a force of nature, shaking you off as if you weighed nothing.

One more man stepped forward, but Dean's punch landed before the guy could even react, sending him crashing to the ground. The scene was chaotic, people shouting and backing away, afraid of getting caught in the crossfire.

“Dean!”, you screamed, tears streaming down your face. “Please, stop!”.

Summoning all the strength you had, you launched yourself at Dean, pushing him with everything you had. He stumbled, caught off guard by your sudden force, and fell to the ground. For a moment, his eyes were wild with rage, but then he looked up and saw you, tears streaming down your face, desperation etched in every line.

“Dean, please”, you begged, your voice breaking. “We need to leave. Just leave with me. Please”.

Dean was still fucking furious, but he followed you, his steps heavy with residual rage. Once back at the motel, he went straight to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. You heard the water running as he began to clean himself from all the blood. He didn’t pay any attention to you, leaving you standing alone in the small, dimly lit room.

You lingered in the doorway, your heart still racing from the night’s events. Your phone buzzed, drawing your attention. It was another message from Sam, asking where you were. For days now, you’d been ignoring his messages, knowing that if you told him the truth, he’d come rushing to save you both. And then, everything would change. Dean would go back to being your friend, and you’d lose the intense, albeit twisted, connection you had with him now.

Even though this version of Dean was far from the man you fell in love with, his attention was something you craved. It lacked gentleness, but it was still him, and you couldn’t bear the thought of losing that.

You typed a quick response to Sam, a vague excuse about needing space and time to figure things out, and sent it off before you could second-guess yourself. Then, you leaned against the wall, trying to gather your thoughts.

Dean emerged from the bathroom, his hair wet and his face clean, though his eyes still held a storm of emotions. He glanced at you briefly before grabbing a towel to dry off.

“Are you okay?”, you asked softly, your voice trembling slightly.

Dean snapped his head toward you, his eyes flashing with irritation. "Stop asking stupid questions", he growled. "Get your clothes off".

The harshness of his words stung, and you flinched. He was already pulling off his bloodied shirt, the muscles in his arms and chest tense with residual anger. You hesitated, the conflicting emotions warring within you. Part of you wanted to reach out and soothe him, to find the gentle Dean hidden beneath the rage, but another part of you feared provoking him further.

"Dean…", you started, your voice wavering.

"Now", he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Swallowing your apprehension, you slowly began to undress, your hands trembling. Dean watched you intently, his eyes dark. You knew this wasn't the way you wanted things to be, but the need for his attention, for any connection, overpowered your doubts.

Once you were undressed, Dean stepped closer, his hands rough as they gripped your hips. He pulled you against him, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. "You're mine", he muttered, his voice a low growl.

You nodded, your heart pounding. "Yes, Dean".

He pushed you towards the bed, his movements urgent and commanding. You lay down, the cool sheets contrasting sharply with the heat of his body as he climbed over you. His touch was rough, his kisses demanding, but you clung to him, needing the intensity of his presence.

"Don't ever leave me", he murmured against your skin, his voice a mixture of anger and desperation.

"I won't", you promised, your hands tangling in his hair. "I won't".

As he moved over you, the passion and need between you were overwhelming. Despite the roughness, there was a moment of connection, a fleeting glimpse of the Dean you loved. You held onto that, hoping that together, you could find a way through the darkness.

The night passed in a blur of heat and intensity, leaving you both exhausted and tangled in each other's arms.

It had been over two months since you had blocked Sam, fully immersing yourself in this dark and twisted relationship with Dean. The intensity of your love for him had clouded your judgment, making it impossible for you to imagine life without him. You knew it was selfish and wrong, but you couldn’t help it. Your love for him was too strong, and you were addicted to him in a way that consumed you entirely. And he was addicted to you, though his addiction was not born of love but of possession and control.

Over the weeks, Dean had grown even more violent. His sexual needs had become more humiliating and bloody, leaving you with cuts and bruises that you bore like marks of devotion. Despite the escalating violence, your feelings for him didn’t wane. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave him, and the pain had become a part of your existence, almost comforting in its familiarity. You had become used to being naked in front of Dean, your body a canvas of his rough affection.

Now, you sat on the edge of the bathtub, trying to fix your arm that Dean had probably broken just minutes ago as he pinned you to the mattress. You hissed at the pain, the sharp ache a reminder of the night’s brutality. You were still naked, your skin marked with fresh bruises. By now, the pain was something you had come to expect, and in a twisted way, you had learned to find a perverse comfort in it. It was all you had ever known with Dean—sex that was intertwined with pain, not love.

As you tried to stabilize your arm, Dean walked into the bathroom. He stood in the doorway, watching you with a mixture of satisfaction and something darker.

“Are you fixing yourself up, sweetheart?”, he asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble.

You nodded, wincing as you moved your arm. “Yeah, I think it’s broken”, you admitted, your voice trembling slightly.

Dean stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Let me see”, he demanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. He reached out, his touch rough as he examined your arm.

You winced as he pulled on it too harshly, a sharp pain shooting through you.

“Careful”, you whispered, biting back tears. His grip on your arm tightened momentarily before he eased up, his expression unreadable.

“You’ll live”, he said flatly, releasing your arm. “Just wrap it up”.

You bit your lip, trying to do as he said, but each attempt sent sharp, agonizing pain shooting through your arm. Your fingers fumbled with the bandage, your vision blurring with unshed tears. The pain seemed to grow stronger with every failed attempt, your frustration mounting.

“Damn it”, you muttered under your breath, wincing as you tried once more to secure the bandage. The movements were awkward and clumsy, your broken arm refusing to cooperate. The fabric slipped from your grasp again, and you let out a small, involuntary cry of pain.

Dean, who had been watching your struggle with growing irritation, finally had enough. “For fuck’s sake”, he snapped, stepping forward. “Give it here”.

You hesitated, looking up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. His expression was hard, but there was a glimmer of something else—perhaps a shadow of concern. Reluctantly, you handed him the bandage, your hands trembling.

“Sit back down”, he ordered. You obeyed, sitting down gingerly, your arm cradled against your chest.

Dean knelt in front of you, taking your injured arm with a rough but surprisingly steady grip. “Hold still”, he muttered, focusing on the task at hand. He wrapped the bandage around your arm with practiced efficiency, his movements swift and precise.

Despite the pain, you couldn’t help but notice the care he was taking, even if his touch was rough. His fingers brushed against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. You winced again as he tightened the bandage, but he didn’t pause, working quickly to secure it in place.

“There”, he said finally, tying off the bandage with a firm knot. He looked up at you. “That should hold”.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Thank you”, you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Dean’s gaze softened for just a moment before the hardness returned. He stood up, his expression unreadable. “Don’t make me have to do this again”, he warned, his voice low. “You need to toughen up”.

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. The pain in your arm was still sharp, but the bandage was secure, holding it in place. You could feel the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin, a confusing mix of comfort and fear.

Dean turned away, his attention already shifting to something else. “Get dressed”, he said over his shoulder. “We’ve got things to do”.

Slowly, you stood up, moving to get dressed. Each movement sent a jolt of pain through your arm, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through it.

Getting dressed was proving to be just as difficult as wrapping your arm. The pain made every movement a struggle, and you could feel Dean's growing impatience. He had already finished dressing and was standing by the door, watching you with irritation.

You had only managed to pull your panties up to your mid-thighs when you felt his eyes on you, burning with frustration. Your fingers fumbled with the fabric, your injured arm throbbing with every movement. You bit your lip, trying to push through the pain, but it was clear you were struggling.

"You can't even dress yourself?", Dean growled, stepping forward.

You looked up at him, tears of frustration and pain welling in your eyes. "I'm trying", you whispered, your voice shaking.

Dean's jaw tightened, and without another word, he knelt down in front of you. His hands were rough as he grabbed the waistband of your panties, yanking them up with little regard for your comfort. You winced, biting back a cry of pain.

"Stand up", he ordered.

You complied, standing on unsteady legs as he pulled your panties the rest of the way up. He then reached for your jeans, holding them open for you. "Step in", he commanded.

You did as he said, lifting one leg and then the other, trying to ignore the pain that shot through your arm with every movement. Dean pulled the jeans up, fastening them quickly. His touch was rough and impatient, but there was an efficiency to his movements that spoke of someone who was used to taking charge.

Next, he grabbed your shirt, helping you slide your uninjured arm through the sleeve before carefully guiding your broken arm through the other. You winced as the fabric brushed against your bandage, but Dean didn't pause, buttoning the shirt with quick, practiced motions.

"Now let's go".

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Thank you", you whispered again, your voice barely audible.

Dean didn't respond, just grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. You followed him, your heart pounding. Despite the pain and the roughness, there was a strange comfort in knowing he was taking care of you, even if it was in his own twisted way.

As you walked out into the cool night air, Dean's hand gripped your wrist tightly, leading you with a sense of urgency. You didn't know where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. You would follow him anywhere, endure anything, as long as it meant staying by his side.

The night was dark and filled with the sounds of the city, a stark contrast to the intensity of your relationship. As you walked, you couldn't help but wonder how long you could continue living like this. But for now, you were his, and that was all that mattered.

Again, you found yourself in a bar, the dim lighting and stale smell of alcohol a familiar backdrop to the chaos that had become your life. Dean's grip on your wrist was firm as he led you inside, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on someone sitting in a dark corner.

"Go, get yourself a drink", he ordered, his voice low and commanding. "I got something to do. Don’t interrupt me".

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. Dean released your wrist, and you watched as he walked over to Crowley, who sat in the corner with his back turned. Crowley didn’t see you, and you knew Dean didn’t want him to spot you, not wanting Crowley to spill any beans to Sam.

As Dean approached Crowley, you made your way to the bar, your movements slow and deliberate to avoid aggravating your injured arm. The bartender glanced at you, raising an eyebrow as you settled onto a stool.

"Whiskey, neat", you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

The bartender nodded and poured the drink, sliding it over to you. You took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through your chest and helping to dull the pain. You kept your eyes on Dean and Crowley, watching them from a distance while trying to remain inconspicuous.

Dean leaned in close to Crowley, his posture tense and aggressive. You couldn't hear what they were saying, but you could see the intensity in Dean's expression, the way his fists clenched at his sides. Crowley seemed unfazed, a smug smile playing on his lips as he listened.

You took another sip of your whiskey, trying to focus on anything but the pain in your arm and the gnawing worry in your gut. The bar was noisy, filled with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses, but it all felt distant, like you were watching it through a fog.

Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, and you began to feel restless. The urge to go to Dean, to make sure he was okay, was almost overwhelming, but you remembered his order. Don’t interrupt me.

Finally, Dean stood up, his movements sharp and decisive. Crowley remained seated, his expression still smug as he watched Dean walk away. Dean's eyes flicked over to you, and he gave a slight nod, signaling you to follow him.

You downed the rest of your whiskey and slid off the stool, your legs feeling unsteady as you made your way over to him.

As soon as you were outside, the cool night air hit you, a stark contrast to the warmth of the bar. Dean's pace was quick, and you struggled to keep up, the pain in your arm flaring with each step.

"What did Crowley want?", you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Dean glanced at you, his expression hard. "Nothing you need to worry about", he replied curtly. "Just stick close to me and do as I say".

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Okay".

He stopped suddenly, turning to face you. "I mean it, Y/N. No more questions, no more interference. Just do what I tell you, and everything will be fine".

You could see the intensity in his eyes, the underlying anger and frustration. You nodded again, more firmly this time. "I understand".

"Good", he muttered. "Let's get back to the motel".

Two days later, your arm had gotten noticeably worse. It was definitely broken, the pain now a constant, throbbing reminder of your predicament. Having Dean screw you all over the cheap motel room didn’t help at all. In fact, it only exacerbated the injury. Every thrust, every movement sent jolts of agony through your arm, but you bore it without complaint. You couldn’t risk upsetting Dean.

This time, you found yourself bent over a creaking table, trying to shift your weight as Dean pounded into you from behind. Your broken arm made it difficult to maintain your balance, and the pain was becoming unbearable. As you attempted to brace yourself against the table, you slipped, your stomach smashing right against the edge of the desk. The impact left you gasping for breath, tears springing to your eyes.

Luckily for you, Dean was close to finishing. Seconds later, he spilled his cum on your back, groaning heavily as he withdrew. You remained in place, your body trembling from the pain and exhaustion.

Dean stepped back, zipping up his jeans as he glanced at you. “You good?”, he asked, his tone lacking any real concern.

You nodded weakly, trying to steady your breathing. “Yeah”, you lied.

Dean didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. “Clean yourself up”, he muttered, heading to the bathroom. “And get dressed. We’ve got to head out soon”.

You tried to stand up straight, but the pain in your arm and stomach made it nearly impossible. Every movement was a grim reminder of the severity of your injuries. You steadied yourself against the table, taking slow, deliberate breaths to manage the pain and quell the nausea that threatened to overwhelm you.

Once you felt slightly more stable, you began the arduous task of cleaning yourself up. You reached for a towel with your good arm, gently wiping away the remnants from your back. The simple action caused your broken arm to throb painfully, and you winced, biting back a cry.

Dean came back from the bathroom, his expression unreadable. He found you still naked, but at least clean. He paused, his eyes scanning over your bruised and battered body.

“You’re still not dressed?”, he asked, his tone carrying a hint of annoyance.

You bit your lip, looking down at the floor. “I… I think I should stay here”, you mumbled, your voice barely audible. “I’m too sore to walk, and my arm… it’s really bad”.

Dean’s gaze hardened, but he didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he took a step closer, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. “You’re saying you can’t handle it?”, he asked, his voice low.

You shook your head quickly, panic rising in your chest. “No, it’s not that”, you stammered. “I just… I don’t want to slow you down. My arm hurts a lot, and I’m afraid I might not be able to keep up”.

For a moment, you thought he might lash out, but then he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Fine”, he muttered. “Stay here and rest. But don’t think this means you can just take it easy”.

Relief washed over you, and you nodded.

“I’ll be back in a few hours”, he said, heading for the door. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone”.

You watched as he left, the door closing behind him with a heavy thud. Once he was gone, you let out a shaky breath, the tension in your body slowly easing. The pain in your arm was still intense, but at least you had a brief reprieve.

Carefully, you made your way to the bed, lying down and cradling your injured arm against your chest. The mattress felt surprisingly soft beneath you, and you closed your eyes, hoping that a bit of rest might help ease the pain.

By the time Dean got back, you had drifted into a fitful sleep, still naked and vulnerable on the bed. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching your bruised body lay there, his eyes narrowing in a mixture of annoyance and something else—something almost like concern. He rolled his eyes at your weak appearance and walked over to you.

Without caring if he would wake you up, which he of course did, he grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you into a sitting position. The sudden movement made you gasp in pain and confusion, your eyes fluttering open to see Dean's stern face inches from yours.

"Get up", he muttered, reaching for one of his shirts. Despite his rough demeanor, he handled your broken arm with a surprising gentleness, slipping the sleeve over it carefully before pulling the rest of the shirt over your head. The fabric was warm and smelled like him, providing a small comfort amidst the chaos.

"Dean, what—", you started, but he cut you off with a sharp look.

"You're not lying here naked when I get back", he snapped. "You're gonna get dressed and be ready for anything".

You nodded, biting back the questions and pain that were bubbling up inside you. His hands surprisingly steady and almost tender as he buttoned the shirt.

"There", he said gruffly, stepping back to look at you. "Now you don't look completely useless".

"I'm sorry", you whispered, feeling a mix of shame and gratitude.

Dean's expression softened just a fraction, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Just… don't make me worry", he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't deal with that right now".

You nodded, your heart aching at the rare glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes. "I won't", you promised.

"And I can't have you falling apart on me".

"I'll be okay", you assured him, though you weren't entirely sure if you believed it yourself.

Dean looked around the room, his eyes scanning for some fresh panties among the scattered clothes. He found a pair and walked back over to you. You were more hanging there than sitting, your body barely holding itself up.

“Lift your legs”, he instructed gently, his voice a low rumble. You complied, your movements sluggish and pained. Dean slid the panties over your feet and up your legs, his touch surprisingly careful as he pulled them into place.

“You look like hell”, he muttered, not unkindly, as he adjusted the waistband.

“I feel like it”, you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so tired, Dean”.

Dean sighed, his hands resting on your hips for a moment before he stood back. Without warning, he pushed you half gently, half roughly back into the mattress. The movement made you wince, but you could see the concern flicker in his eyes, however briefly.

"Sleep", he ordered, his tone brooking no argument.

You lay there, feeling the exhaustion and pain weighing down on you more than ever. Today was different. You felt worse, more vulnerable, and a desperate need for comfort bubbled up inside you. Swallowing your fear, you decided to take a chance.

"Dean", you whispered, your voice trembling. "Can you… can you hold me? Just for a little while?".

He stared at you, his expression hardening. You knew he hated this kind of vulnerability, hated being asked for tenderness. But you couldn't help it. You needed him, needed to feel some semblance of care and safety.

For a moment, you thought he might refuse. His jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed, but then he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Fine", he muttered, clearly reluctant.

He lay down beside you, his movements stiff and awkward. Slowly, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his body and the strength of his embrace made you feel safer, despite the roughness that usually defined your relationship.

"Just for a little while", he said gruffly, as if needing to remind himself.

You nodded, burying your face in his chest. "Thank you", you whispered, feeling a tear slip down your cheek.

Dean didn't respond, but he didn't push you away either. His hold on you was firm, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to relax. The pain in your arm and the bruises covering your body seemed to fade slightly in the presence of his embrace.

As you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't help but wonder if this small act of kindness could be the start of something better. You clung to that hope, letting it carry you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And for now, that was enough.

It wasn’t until 4 in the morning when you were startled awake by a hand pressing firmly over your mouth. Panic surged through you, but before you could fully process what was happening, there was a sudden, disorienting sensation and a flash of light. In an instant, you found yourself in the familiar yet foreboding interior of the bunker.

The cold metal of chains around your wrists bit into your skin, and as your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you saw Dean struggling against his own restraints within a devil’s trap. His face was contorted in rage, eyes wild with fury. You were chained up too, but at the side, where you could see everything clearly. Sam and Castiel stood a bit off, watching the scene unfold with a mix of determination and sorrow.

Dean was yelling, screaming, and cursing, his voice echoing off the walls of the bunker. “Let me out! I’ll kill you! I’ll rip you apart!”.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you took in the chaotic scene, finally rallying fully awake. The reality of the situation hit you hard, and you felt a wave of emotions—fear, confusion, and a twisted sense of relief.

“Dean, stop!”, Sam shouted, stepping closer but staying outside the devil’s trap. “This isn’t you! We’re trying to help you!”.

Dean’s response was a guttural growl, his muscles straining against the chains. “Help me? You call this helping? I’ll make you pay for this, Sammy. I’ll—”.

Sam, unable to bear any more of Dean’s vitriolic threats, stepped forward with a flask of holy water. “Sorry, Dean”, he muttered before spilling it over his brother. Dean screamed, his flesh sizzling where the water made contact, the sound tearing through the air like a banshee’s wail.

“Sam, no!”, you yelled, struggling against your chains. “Stop it! Let me go! You have to let me help him!”.

Sam turned to you, his expression a mixture of anger and sorrow. “I can’t, Y/N. You’ll be free when Dean’s Dean again”.

“Please, Sam!”, you begged, tears streaming down your face. “I can’t just watch this!”.

He shook his head firmly, his eyes hard. “What the hell were you thinking?”, he demanded, his voice rising with emotion. “Playing Dean’s sick games, blocking me, and not reaching out? Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been?”.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sam cut you off, his voice trembling with frustration. “I don’t trust your decisions anymore, Y/N. They’re obviously not rational”.

He gestured towards your broken arm and the bruises that marred your visible skin. “Look at yourself! You’re hurt, you’re battered, and you let it happen. How could you let it get this far?”.

You sobbed, feeling a mix of guilt and helplessness. “I didn’t know what to do, Sam. I thought I could handle it, but I couldn’t leave him. I love him”.

Sam’s eyes softened slightly, but his resolve remained firm. “Loving him doesn’t mean letting him hurt you. We need to save him, but we also need to save you”.

Dean, still reeling from the holy water, managed to lift his head and glare at Sam. “You’ll regret this”, he hissed, his voice filled with venom.

Ignoring Dean’s threats, Castiel stepped forward, his expression calm but resolute. “This is the only way, Y/N. We need to exorcise the demon within him. You need to trust us”.

———————————

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

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Part 3

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Taglist: @spnfamily-j2 @kr804573 @kylersgirlfriend34 @spncupcake @woooonau @winchesterwild78 @anacarolinadasf @suckitands33 @thesilmarillionblog @supernaturallyedsheeran

[storiesfromafan]

Late Night Moments - Benny x Reader

A/N: I don't think I like this that much...but I'm stilling going to post it.

I'm suffering from writters block, and my headspace isn't that great right now. But I'm trying to still write anything.

The soft tap-tap at your window finally woke you up. Half sitting up you rubbed your eyes before turning on your bedside table and looking at the time; just after midnight. Once more there was a soft tap-tap to your window.

“What the...” you sighed, before slipping from your warm, comfy bed.

Slowly shuffling toward the window, there it was again; tap-tap. Annoyed for whatever it was that was ruining your sleep, you pushed back the white curtains. Looking down from your window on the second floor, you took in the darkness of the night. Only the street lights offering small bouts of light.

Then you saw him. Even in the night you could tell it was Benny. He was standing below your window, and when your eyes adjusted more you could see small rocks scattered by your window on the roof. That’s what the noise was. Benny had been throwing rocks to get your attention. A smile grew on your lips, your stomach a flutter with butterflies. Partially excited to see Benny, but also worried if your father found him out the front of the house.

Almost a week he’d been gone, you were sad without him around. And you weren't sure when Benny would be back in town. He must have gotten back this evening, and no doubt he’d been at Grand and Division catching up with the Vandals. Which you understood. But Benny showing up this late at night meant he couldn’t wait to see you. And it warmed your heart.

You noticed Benny was doing something, your brows drew together in confusion before you recognised he was gesturing for you to come down. You looked back towards your bedroom door, a bit of a nervous habit, before turning back and putting up one finger. Which was to tell Benny to give you a minute, you closed the curtain and moved across your room to your bedroom door, until you recalled that you were in your night dress. So quickly you moved to your closet, choosing to put on a three quarter sleeved sweater, dark slacks and some flats. And before heading out you quickly brushed your hair and put it up in a ponytail. You weren’t trying to win a beauty contest. Plus you’d just been woken up. Yet you were eager to see your man.

Slowly and quietly you closed your bedroom door, before creeping down the hall to the stair case. With all your stealth you walked down the stairs, across the lounge room and opened the front door. Once outside, the door closed with minimal sound, you turned to the front yard of your house and Benny, who waited by the foot path and just out of any light.

Walking towards him you noted how his hands were in the pockets of his jacket, his gaze following your every move. All you could do was admire your boyfriend, who gave off James Dean vibes. From his rebel without a cause air, to that smouldering gaze he gives you when smoking a cigarette. Your man oozed sex appeal. Why he ever chose you was beyond you. If he was James Dean, you’d be more like Doris Day. He was a bad boy, and you the girl next door.

No wonder your parents disapprove of your relationship. And though they might voice it, they never get fully involved. They just hope you’d wake up and come to your senses. Unfortunately for them, you weren’t giving up Benny. Not now, not ever. With him you felt seen and heard, like you were more then what people see when they look at you.

Reaching Benny, he removed his hands from his pockets before you were close enough to wrap an arm around you. Holding you close, Benny steered you down the street to his motorbike. He didn’t want to alert your parents to his presence. The walk seven houses from yours, Benny whispered how much he missed you and couldn’t wait to see you. You giggled and held onto the hand, that was attached to the arm around you.

Reaching his bike, Benny stopped by it, encasing you in his arms as he leant down for a longing kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, happy to lock lips with this fine man. Pulling back you smiled brightly at Benny, who gave you one of his knee weakening smiles in return.

“You must of missed me, huh?” You asked with a giggle.

Benny pulled you close to him. “Always, baby".

Your heart sang at his words. This man always brightened your mood from just being in your space. He made you so unbelievably happy. You just couldn’t understand why your parents couldn’t get that through their thick heads. If Benny asked for you to be his forever, you’d gladly say yes.

“I know it’s late, but wanna go for a ride?” Benny asked, surprising you that he’d still want to ride around after getting back from a run with the boys.

You nodded your head. “Of course Benny, I’ll always ride with you”.

Benny shot you a brief toothy smile before untangling the two of you. Getting on his bike, Benny made quick work of starting it up before holding out his hand to you. Without hesitation you took his hand and swung your leg over. Once settled behind him you wrapped your arms around his waist. Making sure you were set, Benny soon pulled away from the curb and headed further from your house.

He rode through the streets and then the main street of town, heading out toward the open fields and scares farm houses. You held on tightly to Benny, enjoying the feel of him and his warmth. And he was enjoying it too, having the two things he cared most in this moment, you and riding his bike. Benny rode till he reached your spot, a small lake with some trees. It was a place you both discovered one afternoon on a ride. From then on its where you both go to be together.

Benny helped you off the bike and you moved to stand by the lake, while he finished parking his bike. Once done you heard him make his way to you, and then you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and his face burying in the crook of your neck. You smiled at how needy he could be sometimes, but welcomed it whole heartedly.

“You must have missed me a lot" you giggled.

Benny pulled you closer to him, holding you tighter. “Yes, baby".

Your heart sang at his reply. “I missed you terribly” you admitted. “I hate when you go on runs with the guys. But I understand it’s your thing, and you can do what you want".

Benny pulled back and placed a kiss to your temple. “I know ya do. I’m glad you don’t try to change me".

You turned around in his hold, moving your hands to wrap around his neck. “I don’t want to change you Benny, or else you wouldn’t be the bad boy I fell for".

Benny chuckled before leaning in and placing a soft kiss to your lips. “Bad boy you fell for, huh?” He whispered against your lips.

You blushed, burying your face against his shoulder in embarrassment for admitting your feelings for the Vandal. Feelings had never been discussed between you, though you both knew how you both felt for each other. In such a short time – a month – you knew you were in love with Benny. No other man had made you feel like Benny, even if you had only went on a couple dates with the other guys. Yet with Benny there had been no first date, he just claimed you in a bar full of Vandals. Letting them know you were his girl.

Benny didn’t even know you when he did this. He just walked up to your table were you and a couple of your friends were, sat down next to you and gave you that Benny charm, along with flirting. You spent most of that night talking, learning about the man beside you. You were intrigued right from the moment he sat down, and you only grew more into over that night. There was something about Benny that drew you in, and by the time you left, you were trapped in his net.

You left with your girl friends, as you got a lift from them. But Benny did try to get you to let him take you home. You were nervous to tell him it might not be a good idea, as your parents might not like him taking you home. Benny understood, but made sure you agreed to go for a ride with him the next day. You agreed, wanting to spend more time with him. From there it was history.

Benny pulled back, moving a hand to grab your chin and bringing your face into view. You looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. But when he asked for you to look at him, you couldn’t deny him. Looking upon his face you saw a warm smile, which sparkled in his eyes. Your heart skipping a beat at the sight.

His hand holding your chin held you in place as Benny moved in to kiss you once more. It was soft and tender, taking a moment to enjoy how soft your lips are compared to his slightly chapped ones. You moved your hands to hold on to Benny’s denim vest, needing to ground yourself to something. Then he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. As usually Benny wouldn’t ask for it he’d just take it, but he knew this moment was different to the usual heated make out sessions.

You didn’t deny his request, opening your mouth for Benny and always would. His tongue entered your mouth, seeking out your own. His caressed your tongue slowly, causing you to softly moan. Your grip in his vest tightened, while you moved to press your lips harder to Benny’s, your tongue battling his. You wanted more from him, but Benny refused to turn up the heat of the kiss. He was setting the pace and he wanted it to be slower, but intense. Which he got, for it was frustrating you.

Soon he pulled back, which made you whine and Benny chuckled. “Patience baby".

You pouted. “When have you ever been patient, huh?” You retorted.

“That’s true” his chuckle turning into a soft laugh. “But I’m tryin' now. As I want nothin’ more than is kiss you senseless”.

“Then do that Benny" you continued to whine.

He shook his head. “Not right now, but soon, promise".

You sighed, wanting to move your face from Benny. But with his hold still on your chin, he wouldn’t let you look away from him. He wanted you to focus on him, wanting all your attention. Taking a deep breath, Benny took a moment to go over the thoughts running through his mind. Wanting to make sure he got what he wanted to say out right.

“You are really somethin’, you know that right?” He asked, looking you in the eyes. “And you mean so much to me...I’ve never felt this way about someone before".

You waited with baited breath for Benny to continue, if he would.

Benny’s hand moved from your chin, to cupping your cheek. Thumb caressing your soft, warm skin. “You’ve put a spell on me, ya know that? Because I’m crazy about ya...I love you".

You were shocked. Benny just told you he loved you. And here you thought you’d be the one confessing first. But nope, he was the one laying it out before you. Your heart felt warm and light, butterflies fluttered in your stomach. The biggest smile crossed your lips, as a noise of joy left your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck once more. Planting a quick, hard kiss to his lips, which made Benny laugh.

You pulled back till your lips were just touching. “I love you too Benny!” The excitement evident in your voice.

Benny pulled you close and kissed you once again, only hard and vigorously. Not even waiting for permission to deepen the kiss, just taking what he wanted. Which you wouldn’t have any other way. You both so happy in this moment, feeling each other’s love.

After those confessions, you and Benny took to cuddling up by one of the large trees. Enjoying the bliss of admitting your feelings. Lazily kissing and soft words spoken to each other. Gradually the darkness began to lift, the sky getting lighter, telling you that the day was coming. So reluctantly, you both headed back. The ride was just as good as before, possibly better now with your happiness.

Parking where he first did, Benny cut the engine and put down the kickstand. He then helped you off the bike, before following you. Wrapping his arm around you Benny lead you back to your house. By now the sun was rising, and you knew there was a chance your parents might be up. Did you care? No. Nothing could ruin your mood. Stopping at your neighbours house, Benny kissed you and reluctantly said goodbye.

You continued to slowly walk to the path leading to your house, stopping to look at Benny once more. Those butterflies going nuts from just looking at the gorgeous man watching you, waiting for you to get home safely. Then you turned and walked up to your front door, though it felt more like you were floating. Quietly you opened the door, slipping in and closing it just as quietly. Then you lent against the door, bright smile still on your face as you heard the faint noise of Benny's bike.

Moving from your spot and across the lounge room to the stairs, you were greeted to your mother coming down the stairs. She was surprised to see you, but then noticed you were dressed and goofy grin on your face.

“What are you doing?” She enquired.

You held onto the banister, “nothing ma. Was just out enjoying the morning". And with that you slipped past her and headed to your room.

Of course you passed your father, who gave you a confused look. When your door closed he headed to your mother, who had come back up to watch you. They shared are confused looked.

“What was that?” Your father asked.

Slowly it dawned on your mother, who didn’t know if she should be upset or happy. “Our daughter in love".

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— stone flower

SUMMARY : aka. part two of i believe in a thing called love. quickly attempting to find out what’s wrong with his girlfriend, dean makes a dreadful (objectively funny) discovery about what’s actually going on

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam, castiel 

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), dirty thoughts/reminiscences, fluff, crack?, cas being an angel LOL

WORD COUNT : 1.9k

A/N : title from a muse song. this fills the someone is cursed square on my @jacklesversebingo card. if nothing makes sense, it’s bc I wrote this at 3AM :’)

It felt strange to you now, knowing that Dean was your boyfriend and that he had been for years. 

You felt naked beneath his gaze. 

Not entirely in a sexy way. 

He had the advantage of knowing everything about you. Naturally, that made you feel vulnerable. Part of you dreads to think of the things he knew about you, but part of you found it arousing. The way he just… seemed so hooked on you was making your heart soar like Icarus did towards the sun.

As soon as Dean realised you weren’t joking about not knowing him, he rushed you into changing more modestly, hardly giving you any time to recover from the two orgasms he pulled from you. Once you were both decently dressed, you legged it out of his bedroom, his hand in yours guiding you through a dark hallway with dozens of rooms that you were curious to explore. 

The two of you were still flushed, still physically glowing with that post-orgasmic euphoria by the time you reached Castiel in the kitchen attempting to eat a sandwich after you woke Sam from his slumber. You’d forgotten all about it until Castiel gave you and Dean an inquisitorial look.

It was embarrassing. You’d attempted to tame your hair, but you knew you were screwed, and quite literally looked like you’d been properly, thoroughly screwed by the same man you claimed not to remember.

But worst of all, your body could still feel him. 

You were still wet from your two orgasams—with his and with your own release. You could feel it dampening your underwear as Sam and Castiel spoke to Dean. You shifted uncomfortably in the library chair, the table was scattered with old books, the pages were filled with strange images of monsters and beautiful herbs.

As lovely as they looked written on the now-yellow pages, you couldn’t focus much on what Sam and Castiel were saying, not when Dean’s eyes were fixed on you. Not when your clit continued to pulse and ache alongside your sensitive pussy.

Part of you figured he was only concerned, but the way he swiped at his pillowy pink lips with his tongue whenever his eyes dropped to your lips—which made your heart flutter—told you he was also still aroused.

It was driving you nuts. 

He was so hot. 

Your heart hammered quickly in your chest and you tried to ignore the way his gaze heated your skin like the sun you couldn’t see in the “Bunker” you were trapped in. Your nipples tightened in his shirt and your pussy fluttered around nothing but the memory of once having him inside you. 

You bit your lip and tore your gaze from his to look at his brother.

You would have been more embarrassed about the state of you if Sam’s hair had been neatly hanging down his jaw, but it was dishevelled and parted in a way that didn’t seem to be his typical style. He was dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt and some blue and green plaid pyjama pants. He wasn’t even obvious about whether or not he noticed the way you looked so fucked out. 

You feared that you simply couldn’t hide it. 

But you mostly felt so alive, so electrified by Dean’s presence and how much he seemed to adore you. You felt beautiful. 

Dean’s hand blindly found yours and for once—at least since the morning when you woke up—you could tell the way your stomach fluttered was not from lust. His thumb brushed tenderly over your knuckles, he squeezed your hand gently, he did all of that subconsciously as he spoke to his brother. Your heart only slowed down because you felt safe, assured. In any other situation, you’d be stunned by his affection and your heart would leap out of your chest—but it’s as if your body still remembered him.

You only then realised how many other lovely things you must feel just being around him. Part of you missed not knowing what it was like, what he was like. You only felt, deep inside, that it must be much more intense and tender if you only remembered.  You wanted to remember it all so bad.

You tore your eyes away from Dean’s beautiful hand around yours to look at Castiel when he spoke.

“I can try to fix it,” he offered, then gazed into your eyes. His blue eyes nearly drowned you as they studied you. You thought to yourself something you don’t even remember learning from anyone: only psychopaths don’t blink. His gaze was intense, so you looked away. 

“Yeah, let’s, and then we’ll move on to the next theory if it doesn’t work, we gotta fix this, now,” Dean agreed and, once again, he squeezed your hand gently. He finally looked at you again, and while all the hunger had faded into concern, there was a lot of love in his eyes that heated your cheeks.

“We’ll fix this, Dean,” his brother reassured him. 

Dean hesitantly looked away from you to contemplate his brother. You admired him for a few moments, the curve of his plush lips turned into a frown, the line of stubbled jaw, the flutter of his beautiful lashes. Castiel’s coat rustled beside you and you felt his cold fingers on your forehead before you could turn to face him. 

Your eyes fell shut on instinct and you felt warm for a few moments before Castiel’s fingers stopped pressing against your forehead. You peeked an eye open to question Dean quietly. He looked at you expectantly, as if he were holding in a long breath, waiting for you to show a sign of something, but you were only confused. 

“Okay…?” Dean leaned forward to take both your hands from your lap. Was that supposed to do something? You regretted watching the hope fall from Dean’s pretty face, but you’d rather be properly fixed than pretend you could remember him.

“I still don’t know who you guys are,” you shrugged and looked at Castiel for answers. He squinted his eyes at you and then looked over at Dean. His mind worked quietly and quickly as he analysed you and Dean,

“The source for her loss of memory is not in her,” he revealed, then pursed his lips as he walked behind you to get to Dean. You tried to follow him as you thought of what he meant, your frown deepened, his large hand fell on Dean’s shoulder. Dean looked down at his hand, puzzled.

“What?” You and Dean asked simultaneously.

“You are the source, Dean.” You stared at Dean with wide eyes and he mirrored the expression on your face. “It feels… like a mind parasite, similar to a mind STD-”

“STD?!” You both turned to the man, bewildered.

“Not really,” he soothed your concern with the most casual expression on his face. “I said it's more of a parasite, it burrowed to your mind—and it’s attached to her now too, feeding on her memories of you to keep it alive.”

“Okay, well how the hell do we get it out of my head?” Dean exclaimed, shrugging off Castiel’s hand to get up and pace. His hands rested on his hips and he chewed on his lip. You didn’t know how to comfort him, and it frustrated you.

“That’s going to be the hard part. Parasites make you crave whatever it is it’s hungry for-”

“So, what? No sex!?” Dean instantly asked and rested his hands on the table, right beside you. 

“That’s what it is?” Castiel asked, brows furrowed in perplexity. 

“Why does it matter?” You interrupted, your entire body heated up uncomfortably with shame. Both of them looked at you. Castiel took the bait and began to think.

“Don’t tell me I need to go cold turkey on sex,” Dean mumbled mostly to himself, but you still heard him. You rolled your eyes at him half-heartedly and felt yourself smile. He relaxed visibly at the sight and returned a small smile that made you feel more confident about finding a solution.

“Can you really not stop… I don’t wanna say it…” Sam groaned with a grimace. You really could have blown hot air out of your ears from humiliation at the implication of his words about his own brother—about you. 

God, how horny were the two of you regularly? Is that why they don’t question the fucked-out state you were both in? Because they were used to it? Unbelievable. 

Sam didn’t need to verbalise what he was saying. You glanced up at Dean. He frowned and pondered for a long time, then he looked agonised at whatever he was thinking. “Come on, we gotta find something else.”

“You’re gross, Dean,” 

“I’m sure we can go a few days without… sex,” you tried to reason with him. You really just wanted your life back, all of it, if it meant remembering Dean. He gave you a look, it challenged your words. You could already feel your body react to him, the feeling of his gaze was like foreplay. You were both doomed. 

“Dean-”

“How the hell did I even get this-what, parasite?” Dean broke the spell before Sam could make a comment about it. You exhaled shakily and sank back in the chair to think deeply, trying to force your mind to seize the memories and fight the parasite. 

“Remember that witch you were being a dick to in Lafayette last week?”Sam asked after a few moments of shared silence between the four of you.

“Wha- that bitch! I knew there was something off about her!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sam got up from his chair after closing the book he was reading, smug and amused. “She’s long gone and the only thing we know can work is if we keep you far away from each other.”

“But…” Dean pouted and gazed longing at you. You looked up at him and his wide green eyes. God, you wanted to give him everything. 

“It might be the parasite making you afraid of being away from her,” Castiel offered, but Sam scoffed. Dean rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, and you frowned. Could that be true?

“Come on, he’s like that on a regular basis,” Sam argued. Today was just not your day. You sank deeper into your seat, hoping the heat wasn’t visible on your face. And if it was visible, you hoped the chair would come alive and devour you whole. Part of you was flattered. “Remember when you and her got stuck for two days in that angel trap? Dean didn’t even wait for us to get out of the car-”

“Okay, I get it!” Dean saved you from the embarrassment of events you didn’t even remember and threw his hands up. He was blushing, too, and it was so adorable. “Look, fine. I’ll do whatever I have to do for a short amount of time if it means spending the rest of my life with her—with her memory intact.”

They turned to look at you. You sat up normally in your chair and focused back on Dean. He was already making you fall in love— and hard. Somehow. You wanted that life with him and all the memories of how embarrassing the two of you are together. 

“You know, I don’t know anything about anything, so… if this is the solution, I’m in.”

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[embarrasingmf]

Hey! this is from that post where you need something to write about lol Maybe something about Dean comforting reader about something? Maybe it's based on trauma or something that happened on the hunt that got them so shaken up?

silver springs

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x reader

SUMMARY: dean comforts you after you have another night terror.

WORD COUNT: 669.

A/N: I LOVE THIS IDEA SM, TY😭😭 also i js created the title on a whim bc i was listening to Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac on repeat the whole time while writing this (can you tell I’m not that creative lol..)

One thing Dean had recently noticed about you is that you tended to wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares.

He’d always comfort you as best as you could, but he could shake away the curiosity of what those night terrors were about.

To be frank, he always asked if you wanted to talk about it, but you’d always decline. Dean didn’t push anything, for your sake of things.

—————————————————————————

Dean was wide awake this night, and he could hear you tossing and turning in the nearby motel bed.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder and at your trembling form, preparing himself for when you eventually woke up.

A few minutes after, you shot up with a sharp gasp, a cold sweat engulfing you, and tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Dean got up almost immediately, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed near you.

“Hey, hey..” He whispered, gently placing a hand on your knee and rubbing his thumb over the inside of the joint.

You slowly looked over at him with wide, almost wild eyes.

“You’re okay, you’re safe here.” He assured quietly, giving your knee a comforting squeeze.

Once Dean saw you take a small breath, he knew you were slowly calming down. Which was a good sign, obviously.

He inhaled through his teeth as he asked the same question he asked every time you had one of these. “You wanna talk about it?”

He fully expected you to say no, to say you were fine and go back to sleep for the night. But surprisingly, you nodded your head wordlessly.

Dean shifted on the bed so he was fully sitting next to you, tugging you closer to him.

You let your head fall to his shoulder, taking a deep breath before you spoke.

“It was about a Wendigo hunt…” You said quietly, but just loud enough that you could hear yourself.

“Yeah..?” Dean nodded, looking down at you as he waited for you to continue expectantly.

You could feel his eyes on you, and you sniffled for a quick second.

“Yeah. It, uh, it ruined my hearing a bit. And it almost killed me.” You explained, shifting against Dean’s side.

Ah, so that’s how you’re hearing was messed up. Dean knew that your hearing wasn’t the best, he and Sam always had to speak in normal volumes around you.

They could never whisper or mumble anything, you wouldn’t be able to hear them and always had to ask them to repeat themselves.

The brothers had both asked why your hearing was like that, because they didn’t really think it was all that natural for someone to hear but not hear that well.

Every time, your response would be something along the lines of, “It happened during a hunt…”

But you never explained it any further. You just left it to their imaginations. Sam’s curiosity died faster than Dean’s did.

Dean’s curiosity on the matter never went away.

“A Wendigo hunt?” He murmured in question before shaking his head and repeating the question in a louder tone for you.

He heard you chuckle quietly and he felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips.

“Mhm.” You nodded, clearing your throat before continuing. “It came at me, I was able to dodge just it time for it to hit a vital area, but it still clipped my ear.”

Dean let out a soft hum of acknowledgment, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You eagerly sought his comfort and warmth that came with being in his presence on nights like these.

“Maybe you should get back to sleep, we have a hunt in the morning.” Dean chuckled, squeezing your shoulder.

You sighed, letting out a small yawn now that you realized how exhausted you still were.

“Yeah, I should probably do that.” You agreed, “You should go to sleep too,”

Dean tapped his chin thoughtfully, before looking back down at you.

“Okay, yeah, I think i’ll go to sleep too..”

—————————————————————————

reblogs r appreciated !

[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field IX

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

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a/n: here we are!! 'season' two!! thanks so much for reading it and I'm SO so glad lots of people seem to love it :) if you do, please reblog it or leave your thoughts in the replies or in my inbox! i love hearing from you and talking about it so don't be a stranger !

without further adieu,, enter buzzcut coryo <3

next part

Coriolanus's stomach twisted as he could hear your screams from the hall, even though by then he was all the way on the other side of the school. He thought that was unsettling, only for them to abruptly stop just before he left. The silence that followed was so much worse. He didn't get any sleep, sitting on the roof in Grandma'ams rose garden with Tigris all night, wondering if you were dead.

He was just sick about it, even as he left the following morning, so early that the sun was yet to rise. It was a long, painful ride, and he spent the entire thing certain that you were dead. It was his fault, he had only wanted you to come with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but now he truly is alone and he won't even have you to write to back home. Regardless, he would try.

Rather than sit with the idea that it might even be pointless for him to live another day, especially with this unflattering haircut and a uniform that challenged the discomfort of the academy one, he decided to write to you on a paper he had found bunched between the train seats to ease his mind.

Y/N/N,

I hope you're reading this. I hope this gets back to you at home and finds you safe and sound, and you're sitting over your desk with a textbook open getting ready for university in the fall. That's not what's happening though, is it? You're probably dead. I probably killed you. If you are reading this in your room, or your library, or over my shoulder as I write this because you are only alive in what's left of your spirit, I hope you know that I am sorry. I did it because I wanted you with me, because in the moment I was so sure you'd be better off with me in the districts than you would be at home with your father. I think I was wrong. But I still miss you. You meant more to me than I ever told you. I guess, more than I ever told myself either until these last few weeks.

I think I heard them kill you after I left you with the Dean. If they did, boy, did you go out fighting. I always knew you would. I can't stop writing in case I never get to speak to you again. But again, maybe you're not dead, right?

Please tell me you're not dead.

Yours,

Always yours, your Coryo

He smoothes out the wrinkled sheet as he writes, hand shaking through most of it. He doesn't know if he should even bother sending it, or if he should just fold it up and throw it out the window in hopes that the message will find its way to your ghost. No, he has to send it. Otherwise he'll definitely never know, at least not for twenty years, and he couldn't bear that.

The wind hits the trees into the windows of the train as it rolls along the tracks, demanding that the branches be heard against the glass. It reminds him of you. Then again, what doesn't these days? Maybe it was just you letting him know you had read his letter, and that you forgive him. That would give him a semblance of peace for the rest of the ride.

When you woke up, it was impossible to tell what time it was. You only knew that it was dark, and your bedroom door was locked from the outside when you got up and carefully tried to open it only to be blocked by the mechanism.

"I have half the mind to agree with you on the Avox thing." You hear your dad sigh, his voice echoing from his study just down the hall. Your eyes widen and you try the knob again. Yep, still locked. "But we could always send her to Nine or Ten as a nurse. She's not staying here, that's certain."

"I don't want to push your decision, here, but she was saying she would tell everyone. She knows more than we thought, more details." Highbottom was here too, great.

"No, that's impossible. What did she say?"

"She knows we're selling, likely that you're storing it all here somewhere, and she knows it's enough to be treason. I don't know what else she knows, but it's risky business ever letting her out of that room again. The procedure might be our best option, here." You've heard enough, quickly making for your window instead. It's locked as well, but draping your old uniform over the lever gives you enough freedom to crush it with a particularly heavy, hardcover textbook without making much noise.

You change quickly, grabbing a few essentials that you could fit into your book bag, then climb out the window and slide down the back porch column before making as quiet of an escape as possible. Adrenaline carried you a few blocks away, but now, you were unsure what to do. You couldn't return, and you couldn't be seen, and you had a tragic shortage of friends at the moment. You find your feet carrying you toward the building you know Coriolanus lives in.

You're not particularly excited to see him, but with no other options, you're sure you can find it in yourself to be forgiving just this once. You could go to Sejanus's family home, but it's not far enough away, and you're not sure what his father would say. He'd probably call your dad in a second and it would all be for naught- you couldn't risk it. So, Coryo's it was.

You enter the building, walking straight for the elevator. He was in the penthouse, so you just have to hit the very top button and figure it out from there. You've never been to his home before, but he's talked about it plenty. Enough that you could find your way there, at least.

You groan when you quickly realize the elevator doesn't work, looking over at the stairs. It's a tall building, so you've got a long way to go. You wonder how he does this every day as you climb up set after set of stairs, taking note of how the walls are basically crumbling around you.

You knew he didn't have money, that he couldn't eat, but you didn't think he lived like this. No wonder he was so thin, and no wonder he still had any muscle left on his body. It was these damn stairs. That couldn't be it though, that wouldn't explain how his shoulders just seemed to go on for miles- maybe he had some kind of workout routine you never knew about.

You're drawn from your thoughts when you reach the top of the last staircase, hesitating to open the industrial looking door in front of you. Just beyond that was the front door to the Snow penthouse, and now that you're here, you're not sure what to do. Do you knock? You don't even know what time it is.

You sit by the door, deciding to think it over for a bit. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep leaning up against the wall where it meets the dusty floor.

Waking up, you're met with a gasp. "Y/N?" You blink open your eyes, seeing Tigris crouched in front of you, forehead creased with worry. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

"Tigris, hello." You mumble, gathering yourself to stand up as she helps you. "I, uh, I didn't know where to go, so..."

"Okay, okay. Come in for a second." She nods, holding your shoulder as she guides you back into the apartment. You squint at the sunrise through the large bay windows, she must have been on her way to work. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? You must be freezing..." She says, immediately shuffling into the kitchen.

"No, no. It's fine. Thank you, though." You insist, trying not to stare at the state the apartment has fallen into.

"Okay, well, please, take a seat. Tell me what's going on."

You nod slightly and move to sit down at their dining table where she joins you, reaching out for your hand which you gratefully take. "Did Coriolanus leave already?" You ask and she nods, giving you a sad smile.

"I must admit, I'm relieved to see you." She says, taking you by surprise. "Coryo thought you were dead. He was just so torn up about it, he said it was his fault but he wouldn't tell me why. I was expecting to see your passing in the papers this morning."

"Well, my days are numbered." You sigh, looking out the window again. The view was stunning. Maybe you would prefer a penthouse to your own large, empty feeling home. "My father and Dean Highbottom were discussing turning me into an Avox as a pity punishment, and I don't doubt that my father would rather bury me than have that on his name. I didn't stick around to hear their decision."

Tigris listens intently, squeezing your cold hands between her own. "And now, I don't know what to do. I had nowhere to go, I'm so sorry to intrude-"

"No, my goodness, please. You are always welcome here." She assured you. "But... what will you do?"

"I have to leave." You nod to yourself. "I have to leave and I can't come back, can I?"

"One day I'm sure it will be safe for you to return." She says, notably trying to put a positive spin on it. "I'll tell you what-" She stands quickly, going over to a hall closet and pulling out a large fur coat. "Take this, it can hide you and keep you warm. Take the next train to Twelve, that's where Coryo went." She places the coat in your lap. "He'll be ecstatic to have you and see that you're well."

You nod, standing up and pulling it on in a hurry. It was a beautiful coat, you could tell it was real fur. This must have belonged to one of their mothers. "Thank you, Tigris."

"There's another train headed there in about twenty minutes, if you rush you can make it. I had to check the schedule last night for him. Don't buy a ticket, just climb in a transport car from the opposite side, not the platform." She instructs you hurriedly,

You dig in your bag as you both head for the door, pulling out a handful of money and rifling through it to give some to her. You'll need some, but she will too.

"Here, Tigris. Take this." You say as she holds the door for you, and she instantly is shaking her head.

"No, no. I couldn't." She smiles awkwardly, waving a hand at you. "You'll need it more than I do, Coryo will be sending us cheques."

You smile at her understandingly, holding it out to her again. "If not for your help, then for this lovely jacket. Please take it. I insist."

Tigris sighs, taking it from your hand before pulling you into a hug which you gladly return. "Tell him we love him, okay?"

"He knows," You say, chin resting on her shoulder. "But I will."

It was dark again when your train reached its final stop, and you were curled up under the coat trying to sleep. You scramble to get up, having to bolt from the train before anyone came to unload the car.

Unfortunately, you didn't get the privilege of having a place to stay when you arrived, so once you're out of sight of the train, the best you can do is wander.

You don't have to wander long before you hear music. You didn't realize people were happy here, so the sounds of laughter and shouting and dancing coming from inside what looked to be an abandoned building made you tilt your head at the idea. Maybe you would just sit outside, around the side of the building where you won't be seen and you can listen.

You don't even get the chance to sit before you hear the singing start. It's Lucy Gray. You mentally scold yourself for not thinking of her sooner as you stand again quickly, finding yourself quite lightheaded. You must be hungry. Maybe there will be some food inside, or maybe you can find talk to Lucy Gray and maybe she'll let you stay with her. Just until you get yourself situated here.

Clutching your new coat tightly around yourself you walk in after attempting to dust off and salvage your clothes. Your favourite skirt and shoes took quite a beating throughout the day, and you're disappointed, to say the least. Hopefully Lucy Gray has a washing machine, but you doubt it. Did these people even know what a washing machine is? By the look of everyone in the room, the answer was a definite no.

Sure enough, Lucy Gray was on stage, singing her heart out. You had never seen her smile so wide, of course, and the kids surrounding her onstage were just as talented as she was at all their instruments. You've never seen live music like this before, only classical or opera where everyone sat quietly and listened until the end. This environment was entirely new to you.

Not wanting to interrupt, you wait until Lucy Gray steps offstage and her spot is replaced with a little blonde girl who couldn't have been older than ten.

"Give it up for the amazing Lucy Gray Baird!" The girl shouts into the mic, gesturing to your friend before more music started to play. "She'll be back, she's just taking a little break, but until then, you lot are stuck listenin' to me."

This is your chance. You push through the crowd and step into the hall you saw Lucy Gray go down. "Lucy Gray?" You call out hopefully, watching your step as to not roll a heel. In hindsight, these shoes were not ideal for the journey you took, but your options were limited by a time crunch.

"Lucy Gray?" You ask again, turning a corner and peeling into a large open room. It's a few moments before your eyes land on her, and she turns to face you having heard you walk in.

"Oh my days, I thought I recognized that voice!" She smiles, opening her arms and running up to you. "Y/N, my word, what are you doin' here?" Her excitement fades quickly into concern as she drops her arms from around you.

"Long story..." You chuckle nervously, pulling at your coat again as she nods for you to continue. "We got caught, for the compact. And the snakes, somehow. Coriolanus put our handkerchiefs that you used in the tank so they wouldn't attack you, I guess. I didn't know. Then they pulled us out of class the next day, he told them it was me, so then I put up a fight and they sedated me. When I woke up I was at home and they were talking about having my tongue cut out and turning me into one of those servants but I'm sure my dad would rather have me dead. So," You sigh, trying to summarize it as quickly as possible. "I ran."

Lucy Gray shook her head, mouth agape in shock at all the information she just took in. "Okay, wait... So they were going to kill you?"

You nod.

"But that teacher of yours seemed so nice."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, he gave me some money and escorted me into the train himself."

You scoff, shaking your head. "He's never liked either of us, but that's only because I have dirt on him. I don't know what Coryo did."

"Well," Lucy Gray sighs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you're safe."

"You too." You smile. "Can I just say, too, we were so proud of you. We were so lucky to be your mentors."

"I count myself the lucky one." She grins. "Let's move on, shall we? On the up and up."

"Yes, sounds lovely." You grin at her.

"Can I get you some water? Liquor? What do you need?" She asks, turning at that and going over to a bench in the middle that had a few water bottles.

"I would love some water." You breathe out, joining her and sitting down as she hands one to you.

"Lucy Gray, could I ask you for a really big favour?" You say after taking your first sip.

"Please." She nods.

"Can I stay with you?"

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Back On the Beach- Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Reader and the Winchesters find themselves at the beach for a rare day off after a long string of difficult hunts. Something about the special day changes things forever. Warnings: Some language and angst but nothing crazy. A/N: Nothing heals my heart more than a happy Dean Winchester. Hope you enjoy <3 Another hunt was in the books. That was the third one this week- you'd lost track beyond that. You and the Winchesters had definitely been “cranking and ganking,” as Dean had been calling it, but you all were exhausted to say the least. No rest for the wicked, though. When you arrived back at the motel after taking out the vamp nest, it seemed like Sam had already found another hunt, and all of you prepped to ship out in the morning.  

You woke after a near restless night, your entire body weighed down by a lack of sleep. Getting up and into the shower felt like moving through Jell-O, so you couldn’t even imagine how Sam and Dean felt. Even more so Dean, who had blamed himself for one of the casualties of last night’s hunt. Before climbing into your bed the night before, you had given him a tight hug. “We can’t save everyone,” you reminded him with a gentle whisper. But you still heard him pacing the whole night- he didn’t so much as sit, let alone lay down and close his eyes. So you were up all night, partially from worry and partially because of the noise he was making. And if you had been kept up, you knew Sam had been too. That’s why you were surprised to hear some particularly chipper laughter and discussion between the two boys as you emerged from the shower. 

“Y/N! Bobby took over that case I found last night. He was in the area, so I guess we have a day off. I was thinking we could just take the time to get some rest, but Jimmy Buffet over here wants to hit the beach,” laughed Sam, hucking a packed bag into Dean’s chest. Dean caught it with a huff before holding it out to one side in order to show off his ensemble. 

“Hey, when in Margaritaville, right? How often do we get a case somewhere like this, huh? Let’s live a little.” 

Dean was decked out in Hawaiian patterned swim trunks clearly purchased from the tourist shop down the street, complete with a towel around his neck and a pair of gas station sunglasses. He was right, how often were you taking cases in Florida (seriously, enough freaky shit goes on there, yet somehow none of it is supernatural)? Your first instinct was to laugh, because he looked ridiculous, but simultaneously, your heart soared. To see Dean getting excited about something so mundane as a little beach trip was a small miracle. Things hadn’t been easy on the road recently, and it seemed like Dean had taken the brunt of it- the guilt, the sleepless nights, the long, long hours. It always hurt you to see the way he took it all, never giving himself any kindness or time to relax. So for you, it was an easy choice to humor him a little. And after a bit of convincing Sam (okay, maybe you and Dean begging and annoying the crap out of him), you got him on board too. 

 After remedial stops at the tourist shop for swimsuits for you and Sam, and the gas station for beer, sunglasses, and the sunscreen you insisted on (“Dean Winchester I have seen you take on some scary shit, so help me God, skin cancer will not be the thing that takes you out”), your crew finally found their way down to the water. And from the moment you stepped foot in the sand, the gentle crash of the waves washed the worries from your minds. It was rare day when you three could be normal. Normal people at the beach, with no monsters to kill, no world to save, no burdens weighing you down. 

It had been a picture perfect beach day. Seriously, Dean made sure you all got the full experience. He had picked up beach chairs and towels and a football for him and Sam to toss back and forth. You sat reclined in one of the chairs, reading a book (a non-lore book, you couldn’t remember the last time you read for pleasure) and watching over the boys, laughing at their interactions. After zoning into your story for a while, you lost track of the boys. Figuring they had gone exploring down the beach, you let yourself fall entirely engrossed in the cheesy romance you were reading. They didn’t call them beach reads for nothing! The protagonist was finally alone with the love interest, who was about to lean in for a kiss, until- the book went flying out of your hand, and you went flying over Dean’s shoulder. 

“HEY! Put me down!” Your words seemed frustrated, but your tone was anything but.

Dean raced down to the ocean as you bounced rhythmically off of his strong back. You playfully whacked at him in protest, but it was no use. Finally deep enough into the water, Dean gracefully slid you into his arms and tossed you under. After catching your bearings and emerging from the surf, you surveyed the scene. There was Sam, laughing his ass off. Dean held a smug look, arms crossed and a teasing smile. And you, now soaking wet, caught completely by surprise.

“I will KILL you Dean Winchester!” You ran after him, laughing and splashing. While you had chased down plenty of adversaries recently, there was something about this enemy that was compelling- pretty cute, even. 

That was the rest of your afternoon. Playing in the surf, munching on soggy gas station sandwiches, sharing a few beers, and your constant nagging at the boys to reapply sunscreen. Though none of you ever spoke it aloud, there was a shared agreeance that this was so nice. That it was a luxury to feel normal and that in that moment, you three were the luckiest in the world. And it was so fulfilling to sneak a glance at Dean and see him smiling, really smiling. You let your gaze linger, snapping a mental image and filing it away to remember for when things got tough again. You wished you could give him this peace more often.

The sun was setting on your perfect day, but the three of you remained on the beach, stalling the oncoming nightfall and thus, the return to your reality. After a serene while, Sam rose from his chair, wrapping a towel around himself and throwing you and Dean a knowing look.

“Alright, I’m going to head back to the motel and start packing our stuff. You guys stay down here a little longer.”

So there the two of you sat, side by side, leaned back in the chairs, toes dipping into the still-warm sand. You weren’t sure if the subtle pink of Dean’s cheeks was the beginnings of a sunburn or the effects of the day’s alcohol drawing the blood to his face. Warm, tipsy, sunkissed, happy. This was a Dean you wish you could get used to. 

“Thanks for taking us here today, Dean. It was a really great idea.” A soft smile graced your face as you reached your hand out, resting it on top of his own. 

Your voice drew Dean’s gaze over to you, and the look on his face triggered a pang of hurt in your chest. Though his lips were drawn in a tight smile, his eyes slightly watered and held in them all of the angst of the last few years. It was as if you could see each harrowing memory in their glassy reflection.

“What if we just stayed?” Dean asked, already knowing the answer. His question hung in the air for a moment without a repsonse. You couldn’t stay, you both knew that. There were always going to be people to save and things to hunt. Still, you deserved some peace every now and then. And that was all you wanted to give Dean in this moment- some peace. You wove your fingers into his and pulled him to his feet, meeting him with an embrace. He wrapped his arms around you and continued.

“Obviously we can’t. But, what if we did. You, me, Sammy. We could do this every day. I mean, we’d have to get jobs, but even that would feel like a day at the beach compared to… everything else. We’d be so happy,” he sighed.

“We’re hunters, Dean. We’ve gotta make our own happy.” 

“You make me happy.”

That was all you ever asked for. Dean Winchester, in your arms, happy- and because of you, no less. In that moment, you decided that this would be your own personal slice of heaven. A moment you could return to as often as you wanted- something that could never be taken from you. A perfect instance that could remain untouched by the horrors of your world. Everything in this difficult life had lead up to this moment, and every day from here on out you would exist in a world in which you made Dean happy. 

With the kind of sweetness that brought tears to your eyes, Dean brought his hand to your cheek, cupped it gently as if it were the most precious thing in the world, and joined his lips with yours. They fit in the way you always knew they would, and the touch sparked the feeling you had always imagined it would. It wasn’t nerves or butterflies. It was so incredibly tranquil. Kissing Dean, finally kissing Dean, felt like bathing your troubles away in the ocean. The hurt, blood, sweat, and tears pooled off of you, and you felt clean, new, at peace. You knew that this wouldn’t fix everything, for either of you. Both of you had your demons, and you’d both be facing plenty more. But from this point on, you could return to this moment- return to each other, and feel your worries wash away. You could come back to the beach for a short while, and things would be okay. You could make your own happy, together.