#demon!dean fic

[topofmythighs]

demon dean smut 👀👀👀

speaking in tongue

demon!dean winchester x she/her reader

rundown: it's gettin' hawt in here!!! demon!dean fucks his gf and that's basically it

word count: 3k

warnings: where do we start? corruption!kink, sub x dom themes, oral, p in v pen., master!kink, cnc???, pain!kink, breeding!kink,

navigating the depths of her relationship with dean has always been difficult; he is the definition of closed off. working through typical relationship issues is easy for the two of them, but it’s the most profound secrets that dean keeps locked away even from sam that drive them apart. still, even with the disagreements and frequent pleas for dean to let her into his mind, she stays, because she promised she would.

it’s difficult, though, to not poke and prod at the mind of her lover as he shifts from mortal to demon.

dean’s more violent — hedonistic, even — but he’s almost more open than her true lover is. as the two of them sit across from each other at the bunker’s table, drinks in hand, she can’t help but purse her lips at the thought of asking more.

“go ahead, sweetheart,” dean smirks. 

she sighs as she stares into her drink, nervous to look up and see the green eyes of her lover replaced with depthless, soulless black ones. she wishes sam was here — she knows he would want to ask questions, too — but he had to flea the bunker with castiel. (he begrudgingly left her there, but with dean’s lack of plans to harm her, sam trusted that she would call him if something went wrong.) 

“it’s hard to not pick your brain,” she finally says, looking up slowly at dean.

he smirks, taking a swig of his drink. “i’m an open book.”

“yeah, but, he’s not.” she sighs, also taking a drink of her whiskey. “i just - i want to know what he thinks of me. i need to know. i know he loves me — we’ve been together for what feels like forever — but he’s just so shut-out and--“

“and don’t you think it’s time you know what he thinks of you, sweetheart?” dean asks, looking at her with a quizzed look so human that she almost believes she’s talking to dean. within an instant, he’s at her side, leaning against the table. his warm, calloused hand, the same as dean's, cups her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. she swallows thickly as her blood freezes up in her body. “you know he loves you, sweetheart. i’ve always been here — watching, waiting to come out and talk to you. to tell you what he thinks of you, how he feels about you.”

“do i want to know?” she whispers, feeling the grip on her jaw tighten. 

she’s scared and flustered. her mind is swirling, trying to wrap around itself that this is not dean in any other way than physically. he lets her jaw go with a quick jerk, crouching down in front of her. 

“he thinks about you all the time. touching you, fucking you,” he purrs. he watches the blush rise on her face, and just to be an asshole, he tacks on, “it’s gross, to be honest.”

“keep it in your pants,” she mutters, glaring at him and drinking down her whiskey. 

he spins her chair to face him. sitting down on his knees, he places his hands on hers, gripping hard. 

“ow,” she winces. “please,” she says, “please take your hands off of me.”

“ah, ah, ah. what you aren’t getting, sweetheart,” he says coldly, “is that even if you hate me, you love him.” he pushes himself up off of the ground and leans in close to her. “and right now, we are one.”

she stares into his eyes and shakily puts her hands on his cheeks as his hands grip tight on the arms of the chair. “baby,” she whispers, pleading. “if you can hear me, please know i’m here.”

“he knows, sweetheart,” dean whispers. “he can hear you. we can hear you.” dean looks into her eyes, smiling pridefully at her. 

she takes a deep breath in, looking one last time into his green eyes, before guiding his lips to hers. she kisses him deeply, trying to feel dean amidst the demon.

“not so fast,” dean says. his ultimate speed has their positions flipped within seconds. she sits on his lap, hands still on his cheeks. “if we’re doing this, and trust me, we want this,” he purrs, “you need to understand that you don’t control me.” she nods quickly, frightened to do anything he doesn’t want her to. “but just because i’m some cold-blooded killer that has it out for every mortal around him,” he chuckles, “doesn’t mean i’m gonna hurt you, sweetheart. i don't want no angels or hunters after me. i don’t have a death wish.”

“they couldn’t stop you anyway,” she whispers, feeling herself relax into his hands that are tight on her hips.

he smiles at her. “that’s my girl.” 

his hands find her hair quickly, pulling her down into a deep kiss. her arms wrap around his neck as her body slowly sinks down onto his. she’s still unsure if her heart has stopped beating, but she feels his hand find her lower back and gently press her body down more.

“you’re okay, sweetheart,” dean murmers, and she swears that was really him. her legs finally relax and settle themselves on either side of his thigh, feeling the denim-to-denim contact. her arms tighten around him, and her lips find his neck where she places small kisses up and down it. 

testing the waters, she grabs a fistful of dean’s hair at the back of his neck as she kisses it, and she feels his hips buck up to hers.

“god,” dean whispers. “don’t make me feel like some desperate teenager here, baby girl.”

she smiles as she continues to kiss. she gently grinds her hips down against his thigh, staying very close to his body and keeping her movements slow. “don’t mean to,” she whispers back. “just trying to enjoy all of you.”

"we've got time, baby," he purrs, his hands roaming her thighs. he tilts his head back, savouring the wet, open-mouthed kisses that she continues to leave all over his throat.

the grip his hands have on her thighs leaves a searing pain behind, so she pushes herself away from his delicious skin to peek and see if the denim of her jeans has been burned away. she grabs his shoulders to steady herself, wincing as he squeezes harder.

she stares at her thighs, expecting burning flesh to be escaping the denim, but there's nothing there.

"ow," she whines, eyes meeting the demon's soulless black ones.

he smirks at her, peeling his hands off her thighs. "feel that?"

"yeah, it hurts like hell," she mumbles.

her jaw is grabbed once again by the familiar calloused hand, and her mouth hangs open slightly.

"i didn't ask for the attitude, sweetheart," dean snarls. "all that pain? means your little boyfriend is here, feeling all of this and watching us like a pervert in a movie theatre."

his eyes melt green again, and the combination of a mention of a mortal dean mixed with his luscious green eyes allows her body to fall slack. she drops back down onto dean's thighs and drools, coating his hand in spit. he smiles slyly at her, pulling his hand off her face before leaving a hard, aggressive slap to her cheek. he places his thumb in her still-open mouth and forces her face back to his. her mouth instinctively closes around his thumb.

"my good girl," he says, a hand finding her waist.

she smiles around his thumb, her cheek wet from her own spit being slapped onto it. she very slowly leans forward until her head rests on dean's shoulder and gently grabs hold of dean's wrist. she rests against him for a moment, feeling the pulse of his cock against her core every time she sucks on his thumb (she swears her heartbeat matches the rhythm of his dick.). her body goes slack, recovering from the pain in her thighs and on her face.

if she was in any other state of mind, she would be the utmost apprehensive woman in the world. if dean truly is watching, she has no doubt in her mind that he will condemn her for feeling safe in the arms of a demon. but as she lays here with her head on his shoulder and his protective arm around her, she wonders if there's some form of loneliness that drives a demon's anarchy.

she sits up, tired of thinking. she gently pulls his thumb out of her mouth, then presses a kiss to his lips. her shakey fingers unbutton his red shirt, and she feels a surge of wetness overtake her when she feels how incredibly hot dean's skin is.

dean can't help but admire her. he watches her as she licks her lips, and he feels his shirt coming undone. her eyes are huge and innocent, glistening like she's experiencing this for the first time. he knows she's focusing too much on the heat of his skin, overthinking about how close dean of the subconscious is watching, so he guides her hands to the tent in his jeans.

"we want you, sweetheart," he purrs, his hand looming over hers.

"take me," she whispers, so quiet that even with exaggerated senses, dean can barely hear her.

his inhumane speed brings her up onto the table with her jeans pulled off her legs. he smirks at her soaked thong - once a baby pink turned a deep rose from the amount of wetness her body has made. he pulls her to the edge of the table, kneeling down on the floor to press kisses to her thighs.

her hands try to push his head away. "no, please! he hasn't - it's been too long! i don't want you there, i want him."

dean smiles up at her from in between her thighs. "he's always here, babygirl."

he pulls her underwear to the side, immediately licking up all of the slick that her warm pussy made. she releases a loud, pornstar moan, her hands finding dean's hair quickly. he kisses her pussy, and she swears she can hear him growling from in between her thighs. she moans louder, hoping his dick throbs harder.

it must have, because his mouth finds her clit and sucks hard, eliciting a long, loud whine from her spit-covered lips. her hands are tight in his hair, the tension in her body having nowhere to escape but her hands. dean continues to lick and suck at her clit, making her whine and moan like she's never been touched before.

"need, need you," she groans, feeling dean's fingers dig deep into her thighs.

he comes up for air, pressing kisses anywhere he can. she swears she feels her dean here with her.

"need me?" dean whispers, his eyes staring into hers. she moans at his deep voice, swearing it rumbles through her. her head tilts back, and, within mere seconds, her body bounces off of dean's soft, memory foam mattress. she hears her breath catch in her throat, to which he smirks. "too fast for you, sweetheart?"

she shakes her head quickly as her hands find his belt and button. "like it," she mutters, her thoughts flowing too quickly to focus on anything but touching dean's cock.

when it sits in the palm of her hand, hard and hot, she whines and feels a gush of wetness fall over the tops of her thighs. she immediately tries to position his cock against her entrance, but he grabs her wrist.

"one thing about us, sweetheart," dean says, "is nothing turns us on more than watching those angel eyes suck cock." he smirks at her as she nods feverishly.

he flips their positions, allowing himself to sit against the headboard while she lays in between his thighs. her ass is high in the air as she wraps her hand around his cock again, licking up his long, veiny cock. he grabs her hair immediately, allowing her brain to turn off and her mouth to be used.

"pretty girl," dean mumbles, moaning as he face fucks her. her eyes are glazed over when she looks up at him, and she moans around his cock as those beautiful, green eyes watch her suck his cock. he holds her head down, her nose just an inch away from his pelvis. she gags, and usually dean would let up, but this time, he holds her head still.

she moves her hands up his thighs, digging her nails into them, letting him know it's too much. he doesn't let up until she draws blood just one gag later.

"bitch," he mutters, as he pulls her up by her hair. he watches his doll catch her breath, a long line of spit keeping her mouth connected to his cock. her eyes are watery, and a few tears have slipped down her face. small traces of makeup are smeared over her face.

their eyes meet, and his black, soulless ones switch back to his crystal clear, serpentine green eyes. he immediately pulls her onto him, his large protective hands rubbing her back. "i'm sorry, angel," he mutters.

she pulls herself up, and her legs straddle his hips. she keeps herself close to him as he kisses her head. his kisses lead onto her face, eliciting a small, fucked-out smile from her.

"it's okay, master," she whispers, peeling his hands from her face and pressing kisses onto his wrists, desperate to feel the human in him. as she does, he rubs his cock over her wet pussy, making her whine and hide her face in his hand.

she grabs his hand and tangles their fingers together, pushing herself up onto her knees to sink down onto his cock. she watches her boyfriend's face fall into the expression it always does when she takes it all; his mouth open, eyes closed, and his chest tight with air.

"i'll always let you do whatever you want to me, sir," she says, rocking her hips back and forth on his dick.

he smacks her ass, and a deep burning sensation flows through her veins. she knows her dean is gone again, taken over by the demon yet again.

"good girl," he says, watching her intently. he watches exactly where their bodies connect.

whether it's the demon's energy coursing through her boyfriend's body or the fact that she hasn't been fucked this hard in a few months, she finds it hard to take all of dean's cock. still, she does her best, feeling electricity course through her pussy whenever she sinks down all the way. she knows from the burning that dean is there. trapped in his mind, but he's there.

knowing he's there brings her an odd source of comfort. she wants to put on a show for him, and she wants to stay on this demon's good side. she hopes that he can feel everything the way she is. she rocks her hips again, feeling dean's fat cock hit her g-spot. she lets out a very loud moan, squeezing dean's hand harder as she rides.

dean groans, too. "fuck, babygirl," he mutters. "so fucking wet."

she caresses his face with her free hand, stilling her hips. "sir?" she asks quietly.

he smirks at her shyness, bucking his hips up into her. "yes, sweetheart?"

she squeezes his hand again, and to her surprise, he squeezes back. her hands feel like she's touching a hot stove. she blushes, knowing dean's right there. "make me squirt?"

his eyes roll back as he groans, and his lightning speed flips them into doggy quickly. he places her head into the pillows and grabs her hips, fucking her soaking wet pussy hard and fast.

"sir, sir, fuck!" she screams, feeling her hips burn where his fingertips squeeze. "i need," she moans. "need your cum."

"fuck, sweetheart," dean says, slowing down his speed a bit. he chuckles. "your boyfriend in here does not want me to do that."

her laboured breathing makes her choke out, "since when did you care?"

he laughs again. "you're a dirty whore. i like it."

she smiles into the pillows and wiggles her ass, begging for him to fuck her harder. he finds his rhythm again, and within a moment, she's finding his wrist and squeezing hard as she cums around his cock.

"don't stop, sir, please, don't stop!" she can feel the tension in her tummy build up again, and she's excited to see how worked up her mortal body can make a demon.

he keeps his pace, slapping her ass and fucking her pussy deep.

"fuck, your pussy is so good, doll," he mutters. "you want a demon to cum in you?"

she nods her head yes. "want your babies," she whispers, instantly regretting her dirty words.

dean haults, flipping her onto her back. "gonna watch that pretty face."

she smiles, grabbing his face for a kiss. his hands fist the pillow around her head, and he fucks her wet, warm pussy until his cum spills into her. the feeling of his thick load inside her makes that rope in her tummy snap, and she's begging him to fuck her hard again. he does, and she squirts as he fucks his cum deeper into her.

she cries out loudly as her body winds down from its high. dean switches them so she can lay on his chest. he rubs her body all over, and if her mind wasn't gone, she would easily overthink why he's showing her any sort of care.

her leg loosely wraps around his hips, and her arms wrap around his chest. he presses kisses to her head, petting her hair.

"y'know," he starts. "takes a real strong man to fight off total possession." she nods dumbly against his chest, just happy to feel the vibrations of his voice from his chest in her ear. "your man's got a lot of willpower to get back to you, sweetheart."

she nods again, pulling herself onto him more. "thank you for not hurting me, dean."

he smiles at her, and his hands continue to rub all over her body. "i still don't have a death wish, babygirl."

[cevansbaby-dove]

Fuck me like you hate me 18+

Demon!deanX Hunter!reader.

Saw something on here about demon!dean and now want to write a very smutty one shot enjoy. Light choking, praise kink, Oral F receiving Sex pollen

You and dean have been through everything as friends and now when Dean becomes a demon you need to have your best friend back.

"hey y/n we got something" You hear sam say. You walk out. "yea?" He says. "Dean has a double problem right now" you place your hand on your hip. "Care to explain?"

"that dust he was hit with...it's called um..sex pollen and him being a demon won't help it.." you nod slowly. 'I'll do anything to get our dean back"

You walk away and see dean tied up. "Y/n please let me go i'm not going to hurt you i promise" you hated seeing him this way so i walk away from him. "Y/N I'm begging you!"

You stop and turn around and walk into the room and shut the door. "is this my dean or is this the other dean?" You untie the ropes on his arms then take a step back and i see his eyes aren't black they were last night. It's our dean.

in a second his eyes darken and he stands up and grabs your neck pushing you to a wall. "Hello, Y/N." His voice made you shiver. "Come to humanize me?" He asks, growling.

"Your not dean..so kill me or i will kill you!" You spit on his face. He tightens his grip on your neck. "Your going to regret doing that babe"

"But, sweetheart," he thickly spoke, "I am Dean, as much as you don't want to admit it to yourself. And you cannot tell me that this," he looks down at himself, looking back at you with dark eyes "doesn't turn you on."

He was right oh god you were turned on but fucking this dean wasn't what you wanted. "Let..me go!" you say as your feel your throat tighten up under his grip. "Dean...please"

he lets go of you and says. "I need you so badly Y/N" He reaches over pulling your lips to his. His stubble chin rubs on your chin as he peppers your neck with sweet yet burning kisses.

"Dean..." you say as his hands unbutton your jeans and then dips into your wet core. "fuck Y/N you were turned on uh?" He picks you up and lays you on the floor.

Dean is still holding you. Dean trailed kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your shirt was blocking some of the skin, so Dean tugged on your shirt, hinting for you to remove it. You pulled back and lifted the shirt off.

As soon as it was gone, Dean's lips were attached to your neck again. You tugged on Dean's shirt, wanting skin on skin contact with him. He didn't get the hint, though. He was too caught up in marking your neck. "Dean, please." "Please, what baby?" "Take it off. I wanna feel you." Dean pulled back and removed his shirt.

Your hands were instantly on his back. You loved the feeling of his muscles under them. Dean's hands moved to your bra, unclasping it. You moved back from Dean to unbutton his jeans. You accidentally rubbed on his cock when you moved back, causing him to groan.

"Sorry" You say with a giggle. Dean grabs your hands pinning them above your head. "You're so beautiful, Y/n." "You're not so bad yourself, handsome."

You say as he removes his pants then says. "I want something to eat though" You moan making him smile. "aww you a needy girl?"

Dean ducked his head down, and you felt him lick a stripe between your clit and your entrance. "Oh god" You say as you arch your back. "God can't help you sweet girl only I can"

He let's go of your hands letting you touch his hair.

Dean moved back up to your clit, sucking and licking it. He pushed two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. The tip of his middle finger brushed your g-spot, causing you to let out another moan.

Dean curled his fingers against the spot over and over again, while keeping up his attack on your clit. His free hand slid up your body to your breasts.

He took the right one in his hand, squeezing and massaging it. You felt a coil build in your stomach. You could feel it getting ready to snap.

You started to move your hips, causing you to ride Dean's face, desperate for release. You'd expected him to push your hips back down, but he didn't. He didn't mind, though.

"Hmm dean i need you...going to...cum..." You say gasping.

Dean lets you cum and then looks at you. "Fuck i love you"

"Your clit so soaked baby" he says as he kisses your lips. "Dean hmm...fuck me please" He grins.

Dean didn't need to be told twice. He pulled his boxers off and positioned himself over you. He pushed into you slowly. He filled you up perfectly. It was like his body was made for yours. He started to move at a slow pace.

You felt every inch of him as he moved. You reached up and pulled Dean down a bit, wanting to be as close to him as you could. Hell, you didn't care if he was lying on you.

You just wanted to be close to him and have skin to skin contact with him.

Dean leaned down and kissed you passionately as he began picking up his pace.

Dean hit your g-spot with every thrust. The kiss finally broke when the two of you became desperate for air.

Dean's thrusts became sloppy as the two of you chased your releases. Dean moved his hand down to draw circles on your clit, trying to bring you closer to your end.

The only sounds in the room were moans, groans, and skin on skin.

Dean dropped his head down to your shoulder as he kept thrusting. You could hear every little sound he made.

That was just what you needed to reach your climax. You yelled Dean's name as you came. Your walls clenched around Dean's cock, sending him into his orgasm. You felt him come inside you making you moan again.

Dean's eyes change back to his brown eyes that you loved looking into everyday. "Damn Y/N that was.."

You push him off grabbing your stuff. "Dumb!" Dean stands up grabbing his stuff getting dressed. "But it worked babe" He wraps his arms around you making you flinch. "Demon" You say under your breath.

Dean kisses your neck then says. "Demon or not i still love you" you take a step away and unlock the door. "Sam he'es fine now!" You say as you walk out.

Sam smiles. 'uh uh I'm sure he's fine now" You look at him. "What?" He smirks. "there was uh a camera in there" You jaw drops, Dean's brother saw you and his brother fuck...Oh god.

"Well uh...would have been great if you told me" You say taking a sip of your water.

"Now i need holy water!" he says with a laugh.

A/n:Sorry it took a bit to write this i was dealing with not being in the mood to write smut but i found out hearing smutty songs helps me out big time!

taglist for all things dean/jensen:@k-slla @jackles010378 @alternativeprincess94 @cutedisneygrl

[naughtystiel]

the fire in my lungs | 5.8k

“Look what a beautiful offering you are, the best we could find.”

Dean did look at himself, then, tied to a chain dangling from the ceiling, his arms above his head while he sat on his bent legs. In the dimmed light his eyes looked dark. When a candle flickered just right, he could catch a glimpse of a gleam, but it disappeared quickly; just like any hope for survival he had felt previously.

A birthday gift for @reelnaturalfreak 🧡

[whorefordean]

not god // d.w

demon!dean x hunter!reader

wc: 1121

warnings: demon!dean (kinda mean but also i couldn’t bring myself to make him really mean), porn with no plot, p in v, slight degradation, fingering, unprotected sex (not a great idea), cringe writing probably (so sorry abt that)

a/n: the main reason i wrote this is bc i had a dialogue line (in bold) stuck in my head and i needed to write it. also it’s demon!dean bc i could only think of him when i thought of this line so yea :) also this is my first time writing smut so pls don’t be mean to me i’ll probably cry :))

MDNI

—————————————

you’re not exactly sure how you ended up like this, writhing under dean, waiting for him to make his move. his persuasiveness and the flash of black eyes when he asked you to come back to his room with him definitely played a part in it, you’re sure. you were about to decline his offer when he sent you a quick wink and a smirk. it was over for you.

your back is pressed firmly into dean’s bed. he had already pulled your shirt off before you had even stepped foot into his room, leaving it crumpled in the hallway of the motel he’d been staying at. he’s placing rough kisses against your neck and down your chest as he works to shimmy you out of your shorts. he quickly pulls them down your thighs and tosses them off to the side. dean moves his kisses further down your body. he stops at your panties and breathes in your sweet scent. as he slowly pulls your legs apart, he smirks at the wet spot already forming on your underwear.

he hooks his finger against the cotton material and pulls in to the side. he runs his thumb through your slick folds, and he watches your eyes flutter as you lean your head against his pillow.

“dean, please,” you begged breathlessly.

“we haven’t even started, and you’re already falling apart,” dean spoke in a mocking tone. you wanted to be angry at his taunting, but his thumb was pressed to your clit, halting any remarks you were about to make.

dean quickly inserted two fingers into you, watching your chest rise and fall rapidly. you had whispered out a quick oh fuck before pulling your bottom lip under your teeth.

dean continued to curl his fingers into you, watching you spiral. you held your breath as your thighs shook, riding out your high for as long as you could.

you whimpered, mind hazy as dean pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you with an empty feeling. you watched with your mouth slightly agape as dean took his fingers into his mouth. he swirled his tongue around his wet digits, soaking in the way you taste.

“fuck me,” you whispered to yourself as you watched dean. you didn’t think he heard you since he was pulling his shirt over his head. that was until he looked at you with hungry eyes.

“i’m getting there. such a slut, you just can’t wait?,” he teased ruthlessly. you felt your cheeks redden at his response, but it turned you on anyways. you watched as he pulled off his belt, pants, then boxers. he smirked when he caught you staring at his length.

the two of you were silent as dean moved you onto your stomach. you could feel his eyes burning a hole into your back. his eyes scanned over the dip on your back down to the swell of your plump ass. he inhaled sharply before giving it a rough smack.

you had gasped. it was unexpected. but not unwelcome. dean takes his dick in his hand. he rubs his tip through your folds, spreading your slick all over.

your breath hitches in your throat as dean’s heavy cock enters your wet cunt. he gives you no time to adjust as he starts thrusting his hips into you from behind, slowly at first.

your gasps are quick to fill the room. his grip on your waist is sure to leave marks, but you can’t bring yourself to care. you’d gladly cover bruises if it meant he’d keep fucking you just like this.

“fuck, sweetheart,” dean breathed out. his head was thrown back, savoring the way you felt around him.the drag of his cock through your tight cunt had you reeling. you were a moaning mess underneath him.

your left hand is wrapped tightly around his forearm directly beside your head, holding up his weight. your cheek is buried into the soft sheets on dean’s bed. you can smell him all around you, pushing you further into euphoria.

your heart is beating so hard, you fear you might faint from the pleasure he’s giving you. you clench around him after a particularly hard thrust. your small whimpers are echoing through the room.

“you sound so pretty, sweetheart,” dean’s deep voice sends a new wave of wetness dripping down your thighs onto the sheets. he reaches around your body to toy with your clit.

“aw, look at you. so wet for me,” dean continues mocking you as he continued fucking you. he lifts your hips, allowing him further access to your soaking core.

“oh god,” you cried out as he hit your sweet spot. without hesitation, dean’s hand is around your throat pulling you up so your back is against his chest.

“not god. dean,” he hissed into your ear. you moan out upon hearing the anger in his voice. he continues fucking into you roughly. his hand on your throat moves to rub right circles on your clit. your hand wraps around his arm again to steady yourself.

your hips jerk back into dean. your back arches slightly, pushing you further into him. you have tears brimming your eyes, the pleasure of a second orgasm too much.

“dean,” you warned. he shushes you softly before answering.

“i know, sweetheart. let go for me,” he whispers sweetly in your ear, thrusting a few more times before releasing into you. he watches as you shake under him for the second time.

dean pulls out of you and slowly lays you back onto the bed. he’s quick to clean himself up, leaving you in the aftershock of not one but two orgasms.

“you know for someone who claims to hate demons, you sure were easy to get in bed.”

dean’s words cause your heart to drop. you stare at him silently as he continues.

“oh, come on, y/n. did you really think this meant anything? you’re not that dumb,” dean speaks so condescendingly it makes you cringe. not because it’s true, but because he’s so wrong about this.

“you’re not the only one who enjoys a quick fuck, dean. we both wanted to get laid. that’s it,” you scoff, pulling yourself off the bed to slip your own clothes back on.

it’s dean’s turn to stare at you. you wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. you move to exit his room but stop before turning the doorknob.

“oh, and next time, because there’s always a next time, don’t be so nice. you know i like it rough,” you wink at him. dean sends you a quick smirk before pressing a hard kiss to your lips.

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

*images credited to Kim Kardashian Twitter, and CW photo stills

Anonymous Prompt: I really want demon dean stalking someone but I don’t know how to do that with consent? But guh just the thought of him.

Characters: Knight of Hell/Demon Dean Winchester x unnamed female character

Tags/warnings: 18+ only; this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester; stalking; exhibitionism; voyeurism; mutual masturbation; dirty talk; horny on aisle 3; fuck it, we ball

Words: 2,400

Author’s notes: #Mutual Masturbation for @jacklesversebingo

This did not turn out the way I'd planned, and it's not nearly as dark as I thought it would be. But I still love it! I hope you love it, too.

Thank you @brrose-apothecary @talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @runawaydr3amerao3 @bigmouthlass for idea bouncing, and @stusbunker for the proof read and green light.

ENNUI

For some people, the passage of time is beautiful and magical; the smallest things are to be cherished. For others, time passing reinforces our connection with the world, marking each pulse of the rhythm of life. For her, time measures the loss and emptiness of what isn’t or will ever be again. 

Today is a milestone birthday for her. The days leading up to it have been punctuated by discoveries of new lines, bulges, and other undesirable changes to her body that remind her she’s steadily failing.

Since she had just two appointments this morning, she decided to close her office early and hit the pool shared by her HOA. Her neighbors are mostly professionals without children, and it’s Tuesday; she’s sure she’ll have the pool to herself to languish in the wet heat of July in the Midwest.

That annoying fucking saying ‘it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity’, comes for her breath and doesn’t leave. It seeps into the lining of her lungs, heavy and damp, slowing and weighting each step she takes toward the south-facing bank of chairs. Once she reaches the chair she always uses, she drops her canvas tote to the concrete and shrugs out of the sheer wrap before shuffling out of her sandals.

She bends to rifle through her bag for her tanning oil, and a faint chill begins to weave its way up her spine. 

+

Dean is sitting in the front seat of the Impala, swallowing the last bite of his Biggerson’s double bacon and cheese when she snags his attention. She walks with the measured confidence that speaks more of a dare than of enthusiasm. She’s alone, and everything about her vibe tells Dean that she’s more than comfortable with that. 

She doesn’t miss a beat as she makes her way to a randomly chosen lounger in a line of another dozen exactly like it. She lets her bag slip from her grasp, and her robe floats from her straight shoulders to join it at her feet.

She’s small in stature but she looks strong and fit—thick thighs and sculted arms, a narrow waist, and curves upon curves. Dean's never cared much about short, tall, fat, thin; he likes women and sex, and if he hits it off with someone, he’s down to fuck.

But this woman is a work of art.

He watches her dig through her bag, dragging his gaze from her delicate ankles and smooth calves and thighs to the generous curve of her ass. He imagines wrapping arms around her, lifting her to carry her to... bed, most likely.

He chuckles to himself. 

She takes a seat half-upright with her legs outstretched and applies oil to her bronze skin. He wishes he could rub it in for her. He lets himself believe she can read his mind, that she's doing this for him, putting on a show just for him. 

Why not? 

When she unties her bikini top to expose her full, heavy tits and dusky nipples, he doesn’t think twice about popping the button on his jeans and pulling his hot, persistently hard cock from his boxers.

+

As she had hoped, she’s alone at the pool. The small cluster of townhouses where she lives and the complexes on either side are as quiet as any Tuesday afternoon. Other than the birds and squirrels in the trees, she’s got the place to herself.

Well, and the old black Chevy parked at the Biggerson’s next door and the shadowy figure within. She may be cynical, but she’s self-aware, and she’s going to squeeze every drop of pleasure from this bland existence as possible. 

She’s always been an exhibitionist, definitely a thrill-seeker.  She pulls the tie at her neck until the triangles, scarcely covering her breasts, fall away. Then she splashes oil across her collarbones, letting it heat and drip down and around, and between her breasts. 

She flicks her shaded eyes to the car before hefting and massaging the full mounds of flesh, then sighs and nuzzles into her lounger. She bites her bottom lip hard as she pinches and twists her puckered nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.

She notices the figure shifting in the driver’s seat. They don’t start the engine or exit the vehicle. Instead, they lift a palm to their mouth and, she imagines, they spit before the hand disappears out of her sight once more.

“Fuck,” she whispers with a smile as she settles her head back against the plush headrest, dragging one hand down her torso and pushing it into her bikini bottoms.

+

That smirk.

Dean looks around the parking lot to find no one else around—it’s as empty as her pool area. He looks back to see that she’s planted her feet on the ground on either side of her chair, her legs spread open, and one hand working rough and slow in her bikini bottoms while the other pulls at her nipples.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart. Do it for me,” Dean mutters, twisting and pumping his cock. 

He grunts and groans as she pulls her hand from her bathing suit and lifts it to her mouth. She raises her head, then, and pushes two fingers between her luscious lips. She sucks and licks her fingers, taking her time, and Dean wishes she wasn’t wearing those mirrored sunglasses. He wants to see her eyes.

Are they blue? Green? Brown?

Is she watching him like he’s watching her?

After what feels like the longest and most uncertain staring contest, she pushes her fingers back between her legs. She doesn’t immediately put her head back, though. This time, she licks her lips and grips the edge of her chair with the hand she isn't using to fuck herself.

“That’s right, good girl, show me how you like it.”

He grips the steering wheel as he pumps himself until her mouth drops open and she starts to tremble. Her gorgeous tits bounce and her hips undulate, and, before he knows it, he’s spurting hot over his fist. 

+

She slams her head back against the headrest, sweating and panting even more than she was from the afternoon sun. She feels gooey and giddy, and light. She opens her eyes and heaves a sigh of satisfaction, pitching forward to look across the pool to Biggerson’s parking lot.

A flash inside the car lights a cigarette, and she catches the first glimmer of the dark stranger. He holds her gaze for a beat, the flame’s reflection dancing in eyes so dark they appear black, before throwing the zippo closed and roaring from the empty lot.

She sighs again as she sits up straight and ties her top back in place before standing, stretching, and striding toward the pool to dive in. The water is cool and calm as she strokes from one end of the pool and back again three times before barrel-rolling to her back to aimlessly float. A light breeze ruffles the leaves overhead, making the sunlight flicker like a strobe. 

After a while, she draws a deep breath before tucking into herself to blissfully sink to the bottom of the muted 4-foot depth.

+

“Sure.” Dean nods and rolls his eyes as Crowley nags him on the other end of the line.  

Crowley gave him a job, which is what brought him to her town, and he really should do it—to calm The Mark and keep the peace with the King of Hell—but he’d rather be knocking on her front door. 

Seeing her yesterday has completely derailed his plans. It’s been years since he felt an instant connection with someone like he feels with her. Separated by the green vining through the black chain link and shade inside his car, he felt her. He wants to feel more. 

“I’ll take care of it, OK?”

He isn’t lying, not really; he’ll take the guy out, just not right now. He’s... preoccupied.

“Now, Dean. Not tomorrow, not next week-”

“Yeah. I know. I’ll get it done. Bye.”

Dean cuts the line and tosses his phone to the passenger seat then looks up just in time to see her exiting her townhome. She’s wearing those stretchy kinds of pants women wear to the gym with heeled boots and a leather jacket. Dean has no idea what the fuck that outfit is all about, but her ass looks incredible. She takes even steps with her head held high. The view from behind her is infuriating. With every stride, her ass plumps and sways, and her wide hips tease him relentlessly.

He fires up the engine and puts the car in Drive before carefully pulling away from the curb to follow her. 

He pictures what she’d look like bent over the hood of the Impala. He imagines yanking those stupid fucking pants down to her knees and kicking her heeled feet wide. She’d moan and arch her back, presenting her perfect, bare ass to him. He’d smack it, and she’d yelp, begging for more. 

She’d beg. And he’d grab a fistful of her shiny black hair to twist and squeeze as he slammed inside her over and over.

“Fuck,” he groans, pressing the heel of his palm down onto his ever-present and now throbbing erection.

He watches her toss her hair as she turns into a storefront six blocks from her front door, and Dean slides into another parallel spot and waits.

+

The drugstore door closes behind her, and she’s instantly enveloped by artificially cooled air. One of the many things she despises about midwestern summers is the necessity of air conditioning. She procrastinates turning hers on inside her townhouse every season as long as possible, but when her clients begin to complain, she gives in.  

She doesn’t waste time browsing for anything other than what she came for—eye cream. Yesterday’s existential crisis is a distant memory, surpassed by him. 

She thinks it’s silly that he’s trying to be stealthy, parking a block down the road, like she didn’t see that ridiculous car of his in front of her house before she even opened her door. This game of cat and mouse is fun for her, though. There’s mystery and suspense. It distracts her from the mundane.

She pays for her eye cream and drops it into her handbag before replacing her sunglasses over her eyes. She doesn’t know the rules of this game they’re playing, but she’s never played by anyone’s rules except her own, so it doesn’t really matter.

Back out in the heat, she pauses before heading toward the restaurant to meet a friend for lunch. Sunlight beams off the chrome bumper of his car, making her squint even with her sunglasses on. She shields her eyes and tosses him a smirk, then turns to walk the other direction.

+

She sees him now, and she saw him yesterday.

That fucking smirk of hers is the guarantee he needs. Every step she takes and every move she makes is an invitation, and he has to think long and hard about whether that’s a good thing or not. Because he’s sure that not only does she see that he’s watching her, but that once she sees him up close and personal, she’ll see who he really is.

She’s a kindred spirit. He knows this as well as anyone knows when they find that person, that connection. He doesn’t know what the connection is exactly, but he knows it’s there, and it’s undeniable.

But can she hold her own with him?

He decides to follow her with renewed purpose. 

+

After lunch, she stops at a consignment shop, the florist, and the liquor store. She wanders along the selection of wines, row by row, waiting. She doesn’t have to wait much longer, though.

“Lotta choices, huh?”

The ticking of her heart speeds up from the sound of his thick, masculine voice. It’s only been 24 hours, but she’s been on tenterhooks, willing him to approach her, and it’s finally happening.

Then she turns to face him and gasps.

He’s gorgeous—tall, broad-shouldered, perfectly proportioned, defined, angular jawline, thick eyelashes, and a mouth that has her rapidly dampening her underwear. But it’s his eyes that give her pause. 

Sparkling obsidian. She wasn’t imagining what she witnessed yesterday. Then he blinks to reveal the most exquisite jade. Her skin crackles with anticipation. He’s like no one or thing she’s ever seen before.

She wants to know everything.

“Small talk? After all we’ve been through together?” she murmurs, shifting into him like he’s a black hole that will never let her go. 

She can’t- won’t deny him.

+

He narrows his gaze and slowly tilts his head, studying her face. 

“Honey, we can talk about anything you want.” He scans her bright, whiskey eyes and the straight bridge of her nose leading to the enticing pitch of her top lip. “But I’d rather do something else with my mouth.”

Her eyelids flutter and he chuckles, teasing the backs of his incisors with the tip of his tongue. He reaches for her, tucking one hand under the back of her hair and bringing her the last few inches closer. 

“Like what?” she whispers, and he meets her trembling lips with a firm, insistent kiss. 

“I think you know,” he mutters, turning and pressing her against the selection of Australian whites.

She hums, draping her arms around his neck. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Dean drags her flush against him by her waist and twists his fist in the back of her long, raven hair. And he tells her what she wants to hear.

“I’m gonna taste every inch of you.” He mumbles against her throat and lower. “I’m gonna suck those beautiful tits and bite your tight nipples.” He pushes a knee between her thighs and lifts until his leg meets the hot, damp crotch of her thin, stretchy pants, then scrapes his teeth over the shell of her ear. “And I’m gonna lick and play with your little clit until you're begging me to fuck you. And then I’ll lick you some more.”

She grinds over his thigh. “We gonna do this here?” she breathes. 

Dean huffs a laugh as he steps away, setting her back on her own two feet. He holds her hand and her gaze. “Yeah, I know how much you like an audience. But I want you naked and I don’t wanna share you.”

She swallows and nods. “What’re we waiting for?”

Dean grins and spins toward the door, leading her out into the afternoon sun.

Dean Winchester Masterlist | MJ’s Masterlist

[winchesterszvonecek]

not sure if you take requests for demon!dean, but if you do could i request a smut drabble with the prompts

for one muse to take the other from behind + “are you gonna be good for me?” from the nsfw prompts that don’t sound like a bad porno

and is it bad if i kinda want it to be really dirty? like as dirty as you’re comfortable with please 🫣

Good For Me - [ Demon!Dean Winchester ] 18+

Prompt: For one muse to take the other from behind + “Are you gonna be good for me?”

Word Count: 1043

Warnings: female!reader, demon!dean, smut - [ mentions of foreplay, unprotected sex, dirty talk ]

Masterlist | Dean Masterlist

Ever since he became a demon, Dean’s foreplay skills had skyrocketed to levels you never even thought they could reach. By the time he was finished he had you soaking, dripping, your arousal all but pooling beneath you as you begged him to fuck you.

And each time he simply basked in it. Basked in the smugness of what he could do to you with nothing but a simple touch. How the mere sound of his voice could have you panting like a dog in heat as he got you prepared to take every single inch of him.

Fingers spreading you open, working their way inside you and moving so painfully slow you couldn’t help but grind your hips, earning a sharp slap to your ass in response as Dean did not like you to so much as move yourself when he was down there. But if anything the slap made you even more heated and he knew that.

It was all part of his game. Even the part where his tongue was fucking your hole so deep to the point where you’d almost come before he’d even started had you desperate for him. And once you reached that point, he was more than happy to give you what you wanted.

“Are you gonna be good for me, sweetheart?” Dean cooed into your ear, your back pressed up against his chest and one hand wrapped tightly around your throat, his other playing with your breast, flicking and squeezing at the hardened bud that sat atop it. “Are you gonna be good whilst I fuck that tight little pussy of yours?”

“Yes.” You gasped, barely able to talk from the hold he had on you and the raging heat between your legs. “Yes, I’ll be good for you, Dean.”

“That’s my good girl.” Dean grumbled, pulling the lobe of your ear between his teeth as his hand loosened from around your neck, fingers trailing over your skin and down your back before he dragged them painfully slowly across your soaking pussy, feeling the throb of your clit beneath them. “I hope you’re ready, darling.”

“I'm ready, Dean.” You whispered, surprised you hadn’t come from the single touch of his fingers mixed with his words. Your body was pushed forwards, your torso hitting the mattress to join your knees, the only part of you still up in the air being your ass and upper thighs which you knew meant Dean was going to give it his all. “Ready to feel that huge cock in my tight little pussy.”

“Yeah? You want me to give you all of it?” Dean teased, stroking the tip of his cock between your folds, making you fight the urge to fuck yourself back onto him. “You think you’re ready to take all of me?”

“I want you to give me all of it.” You gasped, feeling that first, almost painful had it not been for the mere wetness of you, stretch of your pussy as Dean pushed in no more than an inch. “Fuck… Please give me all of it.”

“Anything for you, baby.” Dean grunted as in one fluid motion he had bottomed out inside of you, balls deep and able to feel the heat of your arousal coat the skin of them.

The cry you let out was unlike anything he’d ever heard before, your legs spreading involuntarily as he filled you up completely. Stretching you wider than you’d ever felt, pushing you to your limits and making you bite down hard on the mattress, the pain almost overwhelming to the point where you nearly had him pull out again.

But when Dean’s hips started moving, at a pace that had your whole body thrusting forward and your breasts bouncing hard beneath you, you quickly found that you couldn’t find the words to tell him to stop. And nor did you want him to.

“Fuck… Yes baby, give it to me. Fucking give it to me. Yes.” You cried out, pushing your ass out as Dean pounded mercilessly into you, his fingers digging deep into the flesh of your hips as he kept you in a position that allowed for maximum pleasure.

The room filled with the sound of skin on skin and the almost disgusting, had it not been heavenly in the moment to hear, slickness of his thick cock sliding in and out of you, each thrust hitting that spot perfectly and sending a shockwave of pleasure coursing throughout your body.

You’d already begun to see stars, your eyes threatening to roll back into your head as drool spilled from your mouth, dripping all down your chin and to the mattress beneath you. You always knew Dean was like an animal but pair that with the Mark of Cain and the blackened eyes he sported and fuck, you’d be surprised if you could walk afterwards. Or if you could ever fuck anyone else as he’d completely ruined you.

“You like that, baby? Like having my big cock so deep inside you?” Dean growled, his eyes flashing black as your velvet walls closed in around him, clenching his cock so tightly that he almost came the second he slid back into you.

“Mhm.” You hummed, too out of it for anything even remotely coherent. You could feel him pulsating inside of you, about to burst and with one last thrust of his hips you clamped down around him, pure ecstasy flowing fast throughout your veins as you came harder than ever before.

You couldn’t begin to describe this moment, your head was fuzzy, your eyes were clouded over in white as you felt your very spirit leave your body. And for a second you thought you’d ascended into heaven, that was until your name slipping from Dean’s lips as he came inside you pulled you back to reality and reminded you that you were the furthest away from heaven you could ever be.

You knew fucking a demon would be a one way ticket downstairs, but right now as you lay with Dean’s release dripping out of you and coating your thighs, you couldn’t help but think that it was worth the eternal suffering. And you couldn’t wait to feel him damn you to Hell all over again.

Prompt List

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[holyfreaks]

"C'mon Sammy, just taste it. It's good for you... like mother's milk."

Sam twists his face in shame. Does Dean know? That Azazel said the same thing once? Or is he just so into this, this feeling of feeding him what Sam needs? The feeling of having this... this hold over Sam?

He does miss it. He misses the high, the rush, the power. He misses the taste.

And he won't say he's never thought about tasting Dean.

So he tastes. Blood seeps from Dean's arm and he latches on and drinks. He knows that Dean would give him anything, anything he asked for, even with his soul twisted and dark as a demon.

He drinks. Like wine at communion.

[princessmisery666]

Meeting In The Darkness

Summary: You forgive Dean for what he did when he had black eyes but he can’t forgive himself.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, blood, implied torture, Demon!Dean, MOC!Dean, unresolved angst.

W/C: 2,882.

Pairing: past Dean Winchester x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: “Well one of us has to be wrong, and it’s not going to be me.”

A/N: @justagirlinafandomworld and @pink-sparkly-witch helped with ideas and feedback, thank you, but it has changed a little since then.

Betas: @slytherkins // all mistakes are my own.

Graphics: made by me on canva, divider @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: Dean Winchester // JAckles Verse Bingo // Main

It’s dark. Too dark. Your gun is out along with your flashlight, scanning the corners of the abandoned warehouse but the darkness seems to swallow anything beyond the end of the barrel.

Something is off and your gut tells you to get out, run fast and far. But you won’t, at least not until you find Dean. He called hours ago, said he was hurt and needed help. He sent the location pin and it brought you here. But it doesn’t feel right, it's too…quiet. Like the shadows are listening to your heartbeat. 

You tried calling Dean when you arrived but it rang out until his voicemail picked up. Sam’s not answering his phone either, maybe he’s hurt too? 

One foot over the other, that’s all you can focus on, not the worry making your heart beat faster. You desperately wish you’d called for back-up. Jody, Donna, hell even Garth. Except it was Dean. Your affinity for the surly hunter often clouded your judgment. He might not have time for you to wait for back-up. If Dean is hurt, he needs you now, not when the sun rises, though you doubt the dawn would penetrate the dark depths of the damp smelling warehouse.

“Dean,” you call out in a soft whisper. “Sam?”

Dean’s location blips on your screen, you're standing right on top of it, but he must be a floor above you because there’s no sign of him, and you’ve checked below. You're afraid of what you’ll find, and looking down at the illuminated screen blinds you further in the blackness that surrounds you.

“This isn’t right,” you say and have the eerie feeling someone hears you. 

Your phone rings, startling you so much, it drops to the floor. Of course it lands face down so you can’t see it.

“Fuck!” 

You scramble around, flashlight scanning for it, and as you step forward, you manage to kick it further away. You follow as it slides across the dusty floor, and the corner hits the wall just as it stops ringing.

You're quick to pick it up and the smell hits you as you straighten up. It isn’t dust… 

Demons. 

You sigh with relief when Sam’s name flashes on the caller I.D again. “Sam.” 

He doesn’t offer a greeting, frantically asking, “Where are you?”

“I’m at the warehouse. Dean called, he said you-”

“Get out,” Sam panics, “get out now, run!”

You freeze, terrified to turn around as the sudden sense you aren’t alone makes the hairs on your arms stand on end. 

“Sam what’s going on?” You ask, slowly backing up, trying to follow the same path to ensure you don’t trip over anything.

“Dean isn’t Dean,” Sam explains, “the Mark, it changed him. He’s a…” he struggles to finish the sentence taking a deep breath, and he utters the word as you back into a solid chest, “demon.”

“Shit.” 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean’s voice whispers against the shell of your ear, and it sounds as dark as the shadows. 

He takes the phone from your hand and hangs up, throwing the device over his shoulder. He runs his fingers down your arms, shoulder to wrist. For the briefest of moments, you convince yourself it’s a gentle caress, a sweet ‘I missed you’ in Dean’s language, until he wraps his fingers around yours and the gun.

You forgot you had the weapon, despite Sam’s frantic warning, you’ve never feared Dean, and it’s not like you’d have shot him. But you know you’ll soon regret that thought.

“Give it up,” he instructs, with little room for argument, almost crushing your fingers beneath his. 

You surrender it, cautiously taking a half step forward and turning at the same time when you feel Dean lean back to hand off the gun to someone you can’t see. He’s unnaturally fast, and before you can take a breath, he has you pinned against the wall, arms above your head. The flashlight falls, making the shadows dance, and as if on cue, the room's light illuminates, blinding you.

You squeeze your eyes shut against the assault and debate whether to keep them closed, afraid of what else is lurking in the room.

Dean demands, “Look at me,” and you know you’d be a fool to disobey.

Finally, when you find the courage to follow his command, you look up at him. Black drowns his pretty eyes, and his smile is fiendish.

“Please don’t say here’s Johnny,” you quip though you feel yourself start to tremble.

Dean laughs, but it doesn’t hold an ounce of amusement. “Johnny ain’t got nothing on me.”

You look over his shoulder, an army of demons line the walls looking at you with a fatal hunger. 

“Is this…” You can’t say it, recognizing that this is the place Crowley kept the alphas. The room where you saved Meg from Alistair’s clutches. You don’t know what you're asking for exactly; to be let go, to make it quick or something else, but the word falls from you in a shaky breath. “Please.” 

“Oh, don’t start begging yet,” Dean tuts, “you’ll spoil all the fun.”

“Fun?”

“See Sammy doesn’t believe that I’m no longer his big brother,” he explains, sounding irritated and bored.

“Dean, you don’t…” 

His hand wraps around your throat, lithe fingers reaching from ear to ear, and he cuts off your air to stop you from talking. “I’m tired of telling him to leave me alone, so I thought it’s time to really show him what I am. Maybe when I’m done here, he’ll let me go.”

Dean POV

I watch you thrash and squirm in your sleep. I know better than to wake you. Luckily, my reflexes saved me from any real damage but I have the scar to remind me of the knife you keep tucked under your pillow. 

“Dean, you don’t…” you whimper into the dream world.

Only, I know it's not a dream. It's a memory, playing out in full high definition. Unfortunately, I remember what happens next too.

I’ve tried running from the man - thing - I was, but I guess I’m too slow. It catches up to me in waves, winds me so much I clutch my chest, digging my fingers into my skin, hoping I’m somehow strong enough to break the flesh and rip my own heart out. Because that’s what it feels like while I watch you struggle. Every thrash or whimper is a blow to my chest, and I can’t catch my breath. 

I’ve waited at the bottom of a hundred bottles, drowning while I waited for you to come back. Waging a war against myself, punishing myself the only way I know how, abusing my body and falling into bed with any woman willing to sleep with the down and out drunk. 

I denied myself access to you. And you never called me. When finally I thought I had gotten away with it and felt a spark of relief that I wouldn’t ever have to face you again, like magic, you appeared.

That agony swallowed me whole, and I still feel like some big bad is chomping on my insides. It’s no less than I deserve, and heaven knows I’m never getting over you or what I did.  

I remember the pact you made, a vow etched in your blood as I slowly and painfully drew it from your body. “When all this is over,” your lip trembled, but the conviction was in your eyes. So much so, even the demon in me was intrigued with the absolute belief written on your bloodied features. “When Sam has fixed you…” you swallowed thickly, found a last ounce of strength and told me - him - “I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to, and I’ll wait for years if I have to, but I’ll see you again, and I’ll forgive you, Dean.” 

I thought when your blood dried, you’d take it back, but apparently you haven’t. Because here you are, back at the bunker, sleeping in your old room. Is this what your forgiveness looks like? Pretending like nothing happened, even though you still have the scars, physical and mental, to show that it did. 

Your jerking movements stop and I hope that the nightmare has passed when you roll to lay on your back. I wait a few minutes, watching your body relax, your eyes remain closed, and your frown smooth as your breathing evens out. 

“Dean.” 

It sounds intentional but you still look like you're asleep. You sigh heavily, hand coming up to rub your eyes open, and then you’re looking at me. A mixture of tiredness and weariness in your expression. 

“Did I wake you?”

I can’t help but huff a laugh. You woke me. Seriously? I’m literally the thing in your nightmares, but you’re worried about waking me. It’s infuriating and typical. 

“No, I haven’t been to bed yet.” I haven’t been sleeping much lately, but with you here, I knew it was useless to even try. 

You roll on to your back, stare up at the ceiling and ask, “Where’re you gonna run to?” 

You’re not completely wrong. I thought about jumping in Baby and hauling ass in any direction. I wish I had. I didn’t because I owe you at least an opportunity to tell me how much you hate me, remind me that I fucked us up, all because I couldn’t lose Sammy. Worst part is, I think you know I’d do it again.

Silence deafens me for a long time, and I can’t be sure if you’ve fallen asleep or not, until you deliver a blow I never expected. 

“I still love you.”

I really did do some permanent damage because that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard you say, and you’ve never said it before today. It’s always been on the tip of your tongue. I could see it in the moments you wanted to say it, especially the moments it wouldn’t have changed anything because then you’d have been saying it for you, to make yourself feel better, knowing I was going to hell or purgatory or wherever I was headed knowing how you felt. But now you're saying it for me because it’s what I need to hear, despite that I doubt the truth of it.

You shuffle to sit up, stare at me through the darkness, repeating, “I still love you, Dean.”

“You shouldn’t.”

You lean over to switch on the lamp, a slight jesting smirk when you look back at me. “Well, one of us has to be wrong, and it’s not going to be me.”

You say it so unbelievably casual as if you're commenting on the weather, and I know you’re trying to lighten the mood, but I just don’t have it in me to make jokes.

“There’s a first time for everything,” I counter, “and this is that time. You don’t love me, you love the idea of me, and I wish I was the guy you think I am, but I’m not and I won’t ever be.” 

You sigh, and though you're too far away from me, I swear I feel it. As if a ghost just showed up, the temperature drops a few degrees, and a cold shiver runs through me when you mutter, “I know,” looking down at your fidgeting hands in your lap.

Son of a bitch. Why does that sting like a rock salt shot to my chest? 

“But you're not the villain you think you are, either,” you say, softly, as if you're talking to yourself, and you may as well be because I’ll listen, but I won’t hear it.

“Villain, monster, all means the same.”

“You know what your problem is?” There’s no softness to your tone now. You're getting angry, and that makes more sense to me. You should be angry, furious, murderous even, but you won’t claim it like you should.

Regardless of your right to be furious with me, I bite back, “I have a few, but why don’t you tell me?”

“You don’t think you're worthy of love, that anyone who cares for you has been fooled into doing so, but what you don’t see is that you prove yourself worthy over and over again. The sacrifices you make, you put everyone - damn, the world - above yourself, and that makes you worthy.”

There’s that conviction again, the same undeniable faith you had when I had you tied down and bleeding out. You believe everything you just said, but it's the second time you’ve been wrong today.

“You’re wrong,” I say. “All the sacrifices I make are for selfish reasons, to save Sam, so I don’t have to live without my brother. That’s not commendable. And all the other times it was probably to fix a mistake I made trying to save Sam. I’m not worthy. I’m a screw up.”

You shrug, “Difference of opinion, I guess.” 

Letting out a frustrated sigh, I shake my head, looking up at the ceiling as if I’ll be able to see the sanity you’ve so clearly let go of floating around up there. As my eyes drift back down, they land on your duffle sitting on the chair. It’s packed up tight still, the clothes you were wearing when you arrived neatly folded on top, boots on the floor beneath it. 

You’re saying all this, claiming you love me but it looks as though you're ready to leave at the drop of a hat. “Not planning on staying?”

“Hadn’t decided yet, needed to know if I was too much of a reminder or if you could get past it all.” 

“Get past it?” I shout. “It’s not some minor accident, YN. I didn’t accidentally step on your foot. I ran a blade through your skin, repeatedly. I took pleasure in hearing you scream. I was proud of how your blood dripped onto the floor!” 

My rage makes you jump out of the bed. You, quite literally, won’t take this sitting down. You cross the room and get in my face. “I got past it, so why can’t you?” 

I laugh, there’s no humor in it, but it's either that or smash my fist into the door. “You're past it, huh? So I wasn’t just stalking your sleep, walking around with black eyes and a knife soaked in your blood?”

You avert your gaze and take a half step back. I’ve won, I see the fight drain out of you in the way your shoulders slump. I don’t feel good about it. 

“You came here to forgive me.” You meet my gaze and it’s right there, I can see it reflected back in your tearful expression.  “But I don’t need it,” I say, as the first tear slips free, “and I really don’t want it.”

“We can’t go back.” 

You’re not asking a question, you're speaking the realization aloud. But to be sure you understand, I add, “And there’s no going forward.”

Your gaze flicks to your unpacked bag. You inhale slowly and hold it for a long pause. “I won’t stay where I’m not wanted,” you exhale, “So when I leave, I’m not coming back.”

That’s not true. You are wanted, more than you’ll ever know and more than I could ever express, but it doesn’t matter. Wanting you is not enough to keep what I did in the shadows.

It’s a dick thing to do, but the hurt I’m causing you now, the pain that is free flowing from your eyes, is nothing compared to what will happen if you stick around. “Finally,” I sigh, “something we agree on.” 

You hand flexes at your side, balls into a fist while you decide whether to strike me or not. I brace myself, expecting the blow. I deserve it. It’s what I need, a flare of anger, a singular moment to show me that I haven’t slaughtered the fight left in you.  

Your hand relaxes, and the resolve, with such a finality I’ll never forget, settles in your eyes. 

You’ve given up on me.

It’s for the best and there’s nothing left to say, so I turn and walk away.

It doesn’t take you long to get dressed, and I can’t bear to watch you leave, but I wait around the corner, out of sight, listening to your movements. 

When you leave your room, I follow your departure through the halls, trying not to inhale your scent too deeply, knowing the memories it will ignite will burn my resolve.

Your truck door slams, but the engine doesn’t start, and I hold my breath. Are you fighting with yourself to leave or stay? 

I don’t know which would make me feel worse. 

The engine starts, and I drift closer to the garage door. I push it open a crack, enough to see you resting your head on your hands that grip the wheel so tight, I can feel the sting on my own palms. Your shoulders heave with your tears that the old cranky engine drowns out. 

I do nothing but stare. The irony isn’t lost on me, I did the same thing that day in the warehouse; waiting, watching. The only difference is, as you drive away I’m the one left bleeding out and tortured.

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Master Lists: Dean Winchester // JAckles Verse Bingo // Main

[gococogo]

Day 10: Priest/Demon

Kinktober 2023 masterlist will be after October

「Synopsis 」 : Castiel is a priest that has a bad habit of calling upon a certain incubus. It's becoming a pattern that it has the demon, Dean questioning what Cas does outside of the church. But the priest doesn't like sharing is outside life.

「Word count」 : 4.4K

-> Genre: Supernatural Smut

Paring: Demon!Dean Winchester and Priest!Castiel

[Warnings] :Smut/Degrading/hints of dubcon/Demon!Dean/Priest!Cas/Top!Dean/Bottom!Cas/Anal/Choking/Tongue Fucking/Man Handling/Size Kink/Biting/Sadism/Masochism/Blood/nsfw/READ WITH A HINT OF SALT

The symbols are a mess and the chalk breaks in half for the third time. Castiel breathes frantically as he draws the insignias in the circle. He needs to make this deal. It’s the only way to help him. He’s the only one in the church but hopefully not for long. Only the candles and lanterns are lit in the church to give light since the waxing moon outside isn’t giving much tonight.

Castiel is just glad this ritual doesn’t need any specific moon phase or a certain hour of the night or a certain person to do it. Because he knows for a sure that a priest like himself wouldn’t be able to make a lot of rituals for where he stands in the church. For this ritual though, anyone can do it because the demon will take any soul. They don’t care, they don’t meet any requirements to give out your wish, just your soul.

Now see, Castiel has worked his way around this. Never in the demon’s word do they say that they need your soul. Castiel still has the entirety of his soul intact and will keep it like this. He would like to go to heaven when he dies and not some demon’s pet. He knows what lies beyond. But would he ascend for the stuff he has done? Or would he be damned where all the demons and the devil lies in wait. They must find this one big joke, a priest dealing with them more than once.

He finally stands up and looks over his work. He walks over to one of the church chairs and picks up the small jar that has a small soul flittering around inside. Somewhat like a firefly. One would think that souls would be bigger and yes, they do pack a large amount of energy. The source itself is quite small. Doesn’t take much for a demon to go feral over.  

Castiel places the jar in the middle of the circle and steps backwards until he’s out of it. He’s careful where he steps, not wanting to smudge the chalk. He begins speaking an old, forgotten language only known to living demons now. The chalk begins to glow a red, crackling and sparking like live wiring. The soul begins to frantically bump around in the jar. It knows what’s going on.  

A hand reaches out from under the jar and grabs it, black fingers wrapping around it and dragging it into the ground. A chuckle comes from the spot in the circle and Castiel doesn’t let it sway him from his words. He keeps speaking, reciting the lines to allow the demon to cross over. The chalk bursts into flames and Castiel has to step back to not get burnt. The flames all lean and flicker towards the centre of the circle and the priest just hopes that no one calls the fire department. He’s had it done to him once before and it was an embarrassing thing that had happened.

Suddenly, in the centre of the flames rises the demon. The fire licks his structured body but it does not burn him. His light brown hair is short to his head and he doesn’t wear much. As the fire slowly dies down. Castiel is able to see the old scars that line the demon’s body. He’s finally able to stop his reciting and let the ritual finish itself. Let it stabilize so the demon can leave the circle without harm.

Pitch black eyes stare at the priest before they flicker over to more human eyes that are always the same sage green. A smirk comes across his face as he sees who has called upon him. He has dealt with this priest multiple times. He stopped asking a while ago where and how he got his souls. The priest said it was a secret, so the demon never pushed.

“Cas!” The demon calls out. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Dean,” the priest keeps it short.

Dean is a demon that makes deal. But he isn’t any type of crossroads or bargaining demon. He’s an incubus. One that makes deals for a soul. The deal made with something more than blood or a signature. And for some reason, Dean always finds himself in front of this particular priest.

“What do you need tonight?” Dean asks as he places his hands on his hips.

“I need you to erase all evidence of me in the police records,” the priest says with a little haste.

Dean raises his eyebrow at that and begins walking closer Cas. His thin tail flicks from behind him. It’s a cliché demon tail with an arrow like tip on the end. It’s a charcoal black, like the line that runs from his neck down the centre of his back to the tail.

“Oh, so someone has been a naughty boy again?” Dean tsks and lightly pinches Castiel’s chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “What do you do outside of being this priest?”

Castiel looks up Dean’s up and meets his eyes. “That’s for me to know,” he says a little too confidently that lean towards cocky.

That leads to the incubus to raise an eyebrow. “The answer is always the same, Cas. When will I get to know you?” He asks.

“Never,” the priest says bluntly. “This is strictly business.”

Dean doesn’t believe that. He looks the priest up and down, waiting for the punch line. There is none. He sighs and turns around, facing his back to Cas and he lets his tail feel up the priest from the crotch to his chin, flicking him on the nose. The priest stiffens up, blushing bright but never taking his eyes off the demon in front of him.

“If this is strictly business, then you could make this deal with any other incubus. But…” Dean says as he turns back around to the priest, “you always ask for me. I think this is a little more than business, Cas. Don’t you think?”

Dean gets real close to the priest now and sees the reddens that flushes his cheeks. It’s cute. Castiel looks away but it’s very hard when he is nose to nose with a demon. But the look is all Dean needs to tell him everything.

“So, you want me to get rid of all evidence of you in any of the laws hands?” Dean asks, his lips inches away from Castiel’s.

The priest looks back to Dean from under hooded eyes. He slowly brings his hands up to grab onto the demon’s arms. He’s warm. Almost burning to the touch.

“Yes,” Castiel breathes.

The demon’s hands come up Cas’s sides, sending a chill down his back. If Cas has to be honest, he would say he isn’t the best priest in town. All because the seal in the deal is something he always looks forward to. Or dealing with a literal demon would make him the worst priest. That would be a starter.

Dean backs Cas up with a hand on his chest until his calves hit the front pew chair. With a shove, Cas is pushed down onto the bench with a grunt. All without taking his eyes off the demon. Dean looks down at the priest with a sly grin, showing his fangs off. 

“Someone has definitely been a bad boy then,” Dean chuckles lightly to himself.

The name goes straight to Cas’s crotch and he can’t help it. Outside of this Castiel wouldn’t let a single soul know what his true desires are. Not even when he has another in bed, he’s the one in charge. He has to be otherwise he won’t enjoy it. But then there’s Dean. A literal demon that has the priest’s knees turn to jelly every time he summons him.

“Come on,” Cas bites back.

Dean tsks at him with his brows furrowed. “No no, tonight isn’t going to go how you like, dearie. Tonight I want some answers from you if you like it or not,” the demon says playfully.

“What?” Is all Castiel is able to get out before Dean grabs him by the front of his shirt and lifts him up. He swings him around and pushes the priest back into the ritual circle. Castiel trips over his own feet and lands heavily on the floor with a grunt. His ass hurts now and he feels like he’s sprained his right wrist.

This is not what Castiel was expecting tonight. He needs his name wiped now otherwise police are going to be here by morning. He goes to stand up but Dean presses a foot to his throat and the back of his head hits the floor. Castiel grabs onto his leg and tries to lift it off of him but the demon doesn’t budge.

“Get off me,” the priest wheezes out through his teeth.

Dean only shakes his head, “I will when you tell me what kind of person you are. Every time I leave when we have one of our one night stands you always leave me with questions. Where you get your souls so you can keep your own and,” he bends down so he’s still pressing on Castiel’s neck but he can get right into his face, “why you seem to be on the run from the police every time we meet.”

Castiel tries to speak but his windpipe is currently being crushed so his words come out as little rasps and grunts. He hits the demon’s leg but yet again, Dean doesn’t budge. He can’t breathe properly and the grip he has on the demon’s leg starts to slip. Black dots start to come to his vision.

Dean all but watches as Castiel’s face becomes red. Before the priest blacks out, he takes the pressure off of his neck. Castiel takes a large inhale in, gripping on his leg tightly. He breathes deeply, getting air back into his lungs. His chest burns and he coughs and splutters.  

“What the fuck!” Castiel snaps, his voice hoarse.

“I’m curious is all,” Dean replies.

The priest sighs a, “Fine.”

Dean doesn’t move from his spot, knowing damn well that this priest is going to do something if he lets up. He can see it in the dark blue eyes of his that he wants to buck and claw. As much as Dean wants to continue this deal his curiosity has gotten the best of him. This priest isn’t the goody two shoe he makes himself out to be.

“I punish the sinners of my church,” Castiel confesses.

It almost feels like he’s one of his victims in his confessing booth. Dean has heard of priests like this. He never thought that Castiel would be one of them. But now thinking about it he should have seen it coming.

“So, they confess to you their bad shit. You see it as a sin that can’t be forgiven and take it into your own hands, hmm?” Dean sums it out. “Am I right?”

Castiel stares up at him. “I’m committing an act of service for my lord.”

Dean rolls his eyes and takes his foot off the priest’s neck only to press it down onto Castiel’s crotch. He doesn’t step down hard but it’s enough for it to sting and Castiel to hiss. His hands come to grab at Dean again but he stops himself, balling his hands into fists and holding himself tense.

“I never took you for one of those priests,” Dean says with a smirk.

Cas looks up at him, trying to hold himself together but he pants lightly and a sheen of sweat is starting to form on his forehead. He’s hard and he knows Dean can feel it. He’s enjoying this rough housing a little too much for his own liking.

“I’m filled with surprises,” Castiel breathes out. “Now are we going to continue this deal?” He asks a little urgently.

Dean purses his lips and thinks for a moment. It would be a waste not to. He takes his foot off of the priest and takes a step back. The priest already looks a mess and he hasn’t even done anything to him yet. His hair a mess and his shirt sticking to him from the sweat.

“Take your clothes off,” Dean orders down to him.

All while looking up at the demon through his lashes, Castiel hooks his finger into his white collar and takes it off without hesitation. Without it, he looks like an average man in all black. He begins unbuttoning his shirt to reveal an average build. He isn’t built or anything but he’s got a v line that accents his hipbones. After chucking the shirt aside, Dean watches with hungry eyes as the priest begins shuffling off his dress pants. He shucks off his shoes and then he’s able to get his pants off properly.

Castiel is hard and his dick sits between his legs with an eagerness. He lays back on his elbows in the centre of the ritual, waiting for the incubus to make a move. Dean soaks up the sight a little longer before sinking down to Castiel on his hands and knees.

“You’re sloppy at your job. That’s why you’re always coming back here to get me to cover your ass,” Dean smirks into his lightly said words.

The priest’s face screws up. “Even though I told you about what I do doesn’t mean you need to bring it up,” he snaps.

Dean chuckles. “Oh, but I’ve learned something new about my favourite customer,” he smiles as he ventures down Castiel’s body, trailing his fingers down his belly. “It makes you all that much interesting.”

Castiel doesn’t comment on that as he’s too concentrated on the incubus hovering over his dick. But that’s all Dean does, he hovers. He doesn’t touch it or spit on it. He instead grabs the back of Castiel’s thighs and lifts his ass up into the air. It takes him by surprise and he has to plant his back fully on the ground so he’s not folded awkwardly in half and it doesn’t hurt his back.

“You know,” Dean says without taking his eyes off Cas’s ass. It makes the priest feel exposed and he knows the demon is going to talk more about this new found information he just found out. “Knowing you’re not this goody two shoes makes me like you more. I love me a bad boy,” he says.

Before Cas can reply he’s stopped by the sight of a long tongue flicking out of Dean’s mouth. Without a warning, he licks a long hot strip along the priest’s ass. He flinches at how hot and wet it is. The second long lick is a little less surprising than the last but it still has Castiel holding his breath the entire way. Then, Dean dives his tongue into his ass. It draws a shuddering breath out of Cas at the foreign feeling.

They’ve never done anything like this. He didn’t even know that Dean’s tongue could get so long. And it feels like it just keeps going and going as it thrusts into his ass. Dean licks and brings his tongue out to only go in a little bit further than before. It’s hot and wet and thick and Cas quickly finds that he really likes this. His dick is hard and twitch at every new sensation the demon is bringing to him. Dean grips onto his thighs tighter as he buries his nose into the priest’s balls to get that little further into him. He draws back, breathing in deeply before going back in.

Cas can’t help the whine the comes back him. He tries to hold onto something but there’s nothing around him but the ground he can claw at. He finds his eyes drifting up to the ceiling and he gets lost in the hot pleasure that Dean is giving him.

Dean pushes Castiel’s thighs more so that his knees are beside his face. The tongue is pulled all the way out and the priest releases a short exhales at the sudden loss of feeling full. Dean licks a long strip from his ass to his balls to his sensitive dick. A shiver runs down Castiel’s spine. The priest locks his hands behind his knees so that he has something to grab onto as Dean runs another hot strip from ass to dick. The tongue is shoved deep into Castiel’s ass once more making him flinch. He tongues his ass for a little longer, making sure the priest is ready and a panting mess. All Castiel can do is watch as the tongue disappears into him, feeling himself become hot from the wet appendage. He feels full now, but he knows how big Dean is. He knows what Dean is doing right now. The demon normally prepares him with just fingers and a little time. But Dean seems desperate to get him ready for his cock.

When the incubus is satisfied, he pulls his tongue out with a saliva string connecting them. Dean lets go of his thighs but Castiel holds onto his own legs. The demon removes his garments, chucking them to the side. He looks back down at the sight in front of him and can’t help but stare. Castiel is all his. He’s beautiful. Ready for him.                                                                                                                                                                                   

Dean lowers himself over the priest and presses his hip against Castiel’s ass. Castiel lets go of his legs and wraps them around the demon’s waist as he comes face to face Dean. Green eyes stare at plush lips. Dean wants to kiss him but he resists for a moment.

“Do you collect these souls to see me?” Dean asks with a smirk.

Castiel can’t help his face become redder than it is and he wants to looks away. Anywhere but the demon but he can’t look away. He can’t bring himself to.

“What if I do?” The priest asks with his own cockiness.

Dean pulls away slightly, his smile growing and fangs showing. “I’d be flattered,” he chuckles deeply. “But like I said, you’ve been a bad priest. You haven’t been following the acts of your lord, dear Cas. Someone has to punish you for the sins you’ve committed.”

The thought of punishment should waver this moment but it only makes the priest curious and interested. His eagerness must be readable because it brings another smirk to Dean’s face. He grabs onto Castiel’s waist and lines himself up. His cock is thicker than his tongue and Castiel knows from experience that it’s longer as well. And it does take a bit getting use to.

Pushing the head to Castiel’s hole, the priest’s breathing quickens. Dean takes notice but he doesn’t care as he pushes in rather quickly. The feeling is very different to the soft wet tongue. The sting doesn’t hurt, he’s felt far worse but it’s uncomfortable. Yet it grounding. He likes the sting. He likes the fullness that comes with every bit of himself that Dean pushes in. He thrusts in a little bit and comes out all the way only to come back down a little bit further.

Castiel finds himself whining with each thrust forward. He can’t help the noises that are forces from his throat. Dean concentrates on getting all of him into the priest, holding Castiel’s hips so tight that there’s going to be bruises there tomorrow. Castiel quickly gets lost in the pain that slowly brews in his gut, holding onto Dean’s shoulders for support.

There’s an inch that Dean can’t fit in and it frustrates him. He changes his angle slightly, moving forward so he can put his hands on the floor near Castiel’s head. With pushing forward he lifts Castiel’s hips into the air again so he can drive straight down into his ass. He pulls out and slams his hips down, pushing his entire length into the priest. Castiel feels like he’s just had the wind knocked out of him. His mouth is wide open and only a silent groan is heard as he exhales. He shakily inhales in, closing his eyes tightly at the painful throb emitting in his gut. Now, it’s getting a little much.  

Dean stays still for a moment. Feeling Castiel clench around him. Feeling his warmth and listening to him squirm brings a sadistic feeling to him. His hands slithers around the priest’s throat and he holds it there, looking at those pretty blues staring back waiting for his next move. Then he starts squeezing.

Castiel grabs on his arms but doesn’t pull him away or tell him to stop. His face turns up into a grimace but that’s the only indication that Dean gets that he’s uncomfortable. Either Castiel trusts Dean not to snap his neck right now or he’s stupid. Either way it’s both. Dean squeezes a little harder as he pulls his dick out halfway. He watches the priest’s pained expression as he slams back in. Castiel breathes out of his mouth raggedly, a moan cut short as he isn’t getting enough air into his lungs.

Dean quickens his pace, slamming his dick down into the priest with determination. Castiel wheezes with each thrust but it’s getting very hard to breath as Dean keeps pushing down a little harder each time. He finally grabs onto the hands that are holding him in place as he feels himself become light headed. His head swirls as there’s so much happening through his body. Dean notices, coming out of his high and but only squeezes a little bit harder.

Castiel chokes, not being able to draw in breath. He begins panicking as his body goes into flight. But Dean takes his hands off his throat completely before the black dots dancing around the room become bigger. The relief that floods through his body at that first inhale is blissful. It’s very hard for the priest to catch his breath though when he has a demon hitting his prostate with every thrust.

“Dean,” Castiel chokes out, his voice boxed abused.

The demon tsks as he grabs the priest’s wrists and brings them above his head. Dean pushes in dick in further and almost folds Castiel in half again. He stays there for a moment, giving the priest the privilege to catch his breath. The mix of pain and pleasure that washes over Castiel creates a fogginess over his mind that is almost intoxicating. He lays there just taking Dean’s abuse, his half hard dick bobbing against his stomach.

He begins to phase out, drowning himself in the buzz that is slowly taking over his body. But it all changes when Dean comes down and bites hard at Castiel’s nape. This, this the priest reacts to badly. He flails and screams silently as he grabs onto the demon, trying to push him off as he can feel his fangs sink into his flesh. But Dean holds on, claws digging into his arms as he holds Castiel in place.

Dean lets go finally and licks at the bite mark. Without having to look, Castiel knows he’s bleeding. The entire time, Dean had not let up his pace on him. The demon chuckles darkly in his ear before pulling away from the panting priest. Castiel looks up to him through hooded eyes, suddenly not having the energy to do anything else. Blood covers the demon’s mouth and chin and all he does is lick it up.

“You taste sickly sweet, Cas,” Dean purrs out.

All the priest can respond with is a grunt and a groan. He can feel himself coming close but he’s right on the edge. He can’t tip over to seal the deal. He needs to finish it. But the fucking demon above him smile wickedly, knowing what Castiel wants, knowing what he won’t give him.

Dean wraps a hand around his cock, but he doesn’t stroke it gently or firmly. He squeezes the base roughly so that if Castiel does want to come, he can’t. This, this has Castiel breathing heavily, his heart beating loudly in his ears. Dean is going to lengthen this out the best he can.

But Castiel doesn’t have all night. He grabs onto Dean’s wrist and tries to pry it off. But the stubborn demon holds tight, snarling down at him.

“Let me finish this, Dean,” Castiel urges firmly.

“Why should I?” The demon hisses as blood drips from his chin.

“I won’t call upon you next time,” the priest bites back.

Dean’s movement faulters and his eyes widen slightly. A flicker of desperation crosses over the demon’s face. Something along the line of uncertainty. It all turns into a toothy scowl as he lowers himself down to Castiel’s face.

“And why shouldn’t I kill you now so there isn’t a next time?” Dean threatens lowly in his face.

“Because if you do, there won’t be a next time.”

Now Castiel’s seem to hit home. It strikes harder than Dean’s hollow threat. The priest knows far too well that this demon likes this way too much. Likes the idea of fucking a priest on holy ground because he can. Because a priest is letting him. A dirty priest let it be known. Dean finds that humorous and he wouldn’t give that up.

Because this is the best fun he’s had in eons.

He snarls and begins harshly stroking the priest’s dick to the timing of his thrusts. Now he’s on a mission. His head becomes bowed, his tail flicking aggressively behind him as he works Castiel.

And this, this has Castiel panting through his nose and biting his tongue to keep the grunts and groans from escaping his mouth. But Dean’s fingers come to his mouth, prying his jaw open so that all the priest can do his moan out loud. He holds onto Dean as he starts to come close again, his noises becoming louder and louder. It’s very hard not to when each and every time the demon pounds into him it’s straight into his prostate. It feels like his entire gut is on fire at this point.

When Castiel comes, it wracks his entire body. His vision goes black and spotty and his nerves feel like they’re fizzing out like a fire sparkler.

He comes back to Dean coming deep in ass with a growl. His claws dig into his thighs, holding him in his place. The sensation of being filled sends a shiver up Castiel’s spine as whatever cum was left in his dick comes out onto his stomach.

He’s a mess. But the deal is done.

[k-slla]

Call It Fate

A/N: @beka-dreamer - This was supposed be ready by your Birthday but I am so sorry that this took me so long - It's now finished and as I warned, angsty (sorry for that too), but I still hope you'll enjoy it! 🤍

W/C: 1.7k | My Masterlist

Warnings: angst, Demon!Dean

All mistakes are mine! Feedback is appreciated!

Enjoy!

Rebekah wasn't sure how long she had been driving for. She was still not even totally aware of what had happened.

Dawn was breaking so few hours have passed at least since she left the Bunker in the dead of night, but she wasn't going to stop. No, she couldn't. Despite the growing ache in her limbs, stomach or in her heart, she floored the gas, determined to get as far as she could from him. She’d tend her wounds later when she'd have time to worry about anything else but getting herself hidden.

For a long time it was just her and silence in her car between the empty fields, dark forests or seemingly extinct small towns.

That's quite how she felt. Dark. Lifeless. Empty.

At least the wind coming in from the rolled down window was relieving the sting of the little cuts and scrapes on her face. Every little movement she dared to do, felt again like another punch she had gotten from Dean.

His laughter was still ringing in her ears. Cruel and taunting. His smile - another sight she wouldn't forget - so cold and diabolic.

“Do you really think you can run from me, Beka?” That nickname slipping past his lips now evoked goosebumps on her skin. He was much closer to her than she had hoped. Not getting ahead of him more than a corner, she still gathered all the strength she had left to even try to get away.

“Why are you still trying to escape? I could make the end for you real easy, maybe even borderline enjoyable, if you would just stop!”

Bunker had become a total maze of torture for her. Rebekah had no sense of direction anymore and the red emergency light made every hallway look the same. She was stuck like a mouse in a snake tank, with nowhere to run.

“Or on the other hand, I could drag it out, make it long and slow. You know I’d enjoy it. Whichever you’d prefer, sweetheart.”

She got nauseous. Rebekah pulled the car over at the side of the road. This was a mistake. Staying with the boys. Last few years she had gone through were all wrong. She shouldn’t have let herself fall for him. She should've known that she had no chance at happiness. She should've known that being alone was all that she would get in this world. No family. No Dean. No one.

Groaning loudly, Rebekah wearily climbed out of the front seat, and looked around her. In the middle of nowhere, only desolate fields surrounded her again. She leaned on the car, letting her tears roll freely as she slowly slid down and hid her face in her arms.

She sat next to the car, gravel pushing deep into her bruised skin. It hurt, but not as much as the burn on the inside. She was shattered. Heartbroken. And this time she wasn't sure if anything would help her heal.

The wind was warm around her, tousling her long brown locks, almost like an invisible embrace, it had her surrounded.

She didn't want to admit it to herself. That she missed him. That she still loved him after what he put her through. But she did. She loved Dean as much as she hated him, and after tonight Rebekah hated him more than anything.

She hated those green eyes that once had been her escape from reality, were filled with such hatred and coldness tonight. She despised that smile that once had the power to brighten her day in a split second, would now be the cause of her nightmares. She loathed the man who once saved her from that very same thing he had now become, was the one who promised to protect her with his life. She hated that she loved him.

She was sleeping when he came. After months of fighting with sleeplessness, trying to find Dean day or night, she had fallen asleep surprisingly quickly tonight, but it was still restless for her.

She was lucky she hadn't slept in their own room. That was the first place he had checked looking for her. But she didn't need any more things to remind her of Dean, so she chose a room a few doors down from it.

A door slammed into the wall, waking her up immediately.

“Sweetheart, I'm home!” A muffled voice echoed in the hallway, almost maniacal laughter following right after. Rebekah didn't think he'd come back voluntarily. Her heart started thundering. He must've been here for a reason.

But that wasn't her Dean, and she was alone with him in the Bunker.

She had no idea what time it was or how long she had been sitting by the road, but she was parched. Carefully she stood up and started to look for a water bottle in her car. She knew she had one somewhere. Every move still hurt, but she finally found it, and drank almost half of it.

The heat kept climbing and she decided to find a first motel on the road to wherever she was headed. But first, she'd need a change of clothes. She was still wearing her pajamas, and those had gotten ripped in the fight.

With shaking hands, she opened the trunk of the car, and started rummaging through the blankets and books and weapons in it to find her back-up clothes.

She has always been prepared for the worst, keeping at least two sets of clothes in her car at all times, both bags had also a burner phone, cash and some medicines in them.

She just never thought that the worst would be running away from Dean.

Rebekah took in two painkillers before she sat behind the wheel again. She felt a little more like a human at least, all she needed now was a shower and sleep.

About another hour later a “Jade’s Motel & Diner” sign caught her eye. Underneath it was small writing “Redfield, South-Dakota”.

She must've been so out of herself not to notice crossing two state lines.

She pulled into the lot and parked the car, but was unable to get out. For months she had tried to be hopeful of finding Dean and helping him. Even when everything had gone wrong, even when smallest traces of him disappeared and despair started to creep in, she never gave up. But now there was nothing for her to fight for. Now she was just tired of trying.

She loved Dean. More than anything, but seeing him being able to try to kill her so easily, that hurt more than any other punch she had gotten from him. She couldn't go back to that.

Rebekah stayed hidden behind a corner and Dean's low voice echoed somewhere in the Bunker. It seemed to her, he was heading the other way. She was wrong. As soon as she let out a little shaky breath and wanted to turn around to lean on the wall, Rebekah saw Dean behind her and barely had a chance to duck down before a hammer hit the wall right where her head was a second ago. She fell to the floor and there was a silence between them. But not for long before Dean pulled the hammer out of the wall.

“Dean, don't!” She was shaking as she turned her face away from him, expecting another hit, but it didn't come. Instead Dean squatted down in front of her and roughly grabbed her jaw.

He sneered, staring at her teary eyes and the bruises forming on her skin. But then to her surprise he caressed her cheek softly and pushed away stray hair from her face. It almost seemed like he cared, but she knew better. He was not the man anymore she loved.

“You know, what? I changed my mind. It's actually not that fun when you're just laying here. Get up!”

He stood back up and waited for Rebekah to do the same, but she remained on the floor.

“Why are you doing this?” She had no fight left in her.

“Well, the Mark needs to be fed, right?” He turned his right arm out, revealing her the red scar on it. “And I knew just the place where to find my next victim.” Dean waved his hands around him. “It's either you or someone innocent from the streets. Would you like that more?”

Rebekah glared up into his black eyes that had nothing left of the lively green they used to be. She won't give up that easily. She heaved herself up.

“You'll get a ten second head start, then we'll play.” Dean's eyes flashed green as grinned after her, watching her limp away. When she got right around the corner, she started to run. With her final strength Rebekah made her way to the garage. This was her only chance to escape.

Rebekah stared at herself in the rearview mirror and an unrecognizable face stared back. She didn't even realize that before, but Sam didn't know yet that Dean came back. She decided to deal with this a little later. He wasn't home anyway and Dean had probably run from the Bunker, too. She'd call him later sometimes, when she'd had time to sleep. Right now she just needed to lay down.

She gathered her stuff from the backseat and got out of the car. The gravel crunched under her shoes as she walked across the lot towards the motel. She didn't know yet what would be her next move or where she'd end up.

As she got closer to the building, Rebekah saw an older woman sitting behind a little desk. When the little bell above the door announced her entering, the woman looked up from the newspaper she was reading, smiling at her welcomingly.

“Hello, miss, how can I help you?”

She couldn't tell what tomorrow would bring for her, but Rebekah knew one thing - she would be alone and it'll be alright. She had been alone for years, before she met the Winchesters.

Maybe one day her path would cross with Dean again, but until that she would have to do what she was best at. She'd have to keep on hunting.

For now, she plastered on a little smile.

“Good morning! Room for one, please.”

Taglist (always open) @jackles010378 @nescavaneck @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @winchesterwild78 @anundyingfidelity @suckitands33

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[gracelessanarchist]

The Mark Of Cain gives Dean some strange desires.

It’s the mark fueling Dean’s wet dreams at night, imagining Sam sinking his teeth into Dean’s flesh, moaning against his tanned skin as blood thicker and sweeter than honey pours into his mouth. It’s the mark wanting Dean to be Sam’s addiction. It’s the mark that wants Sam, needs Sam, craves Sam. It’s the mark that will do everything in its power to keep Sam to itself.

It’s the mark, not Dean.

Yeah, that’s his excuse.

[runawaydr3amerao3]

Fic Rec: 'Dreams' by @sam-is-my-safe-word (SPN/RPS, Demon!Dean/Jensen, Explicit)

Guys, it's another deliciously hot Jensen-character smut-fest from my bestie. This time it's literally Jensen getting fucked by a character of his own making. It's Dean! But not even just that, it's Demon Dean with all his magnetic nastiness. I mean, if we die, we die, right?

And this is just chapter one. Can be read as a standalone, in my opinion, but I know chapter two will be just as delicious when it's written as well. I can reveal that that's when regular Dean will come in to make it all better. Ain't he a doll?

So go read now or subscribe for updates later, but don't miss it. 💖

[bloodydeanwinchester]

do you guys think dean ever tortured bela in hell? like i think if he ever did, he would have been so ashamed he NEVER would have told anyone

[disfrutalakia]

Qsmpblr people, should I bite the bullet and write a fic about insane 4halo on the current arc or will this age badly once the arc is done? Cause that fucking insane proposal is the only thing I can think about and I have such a specific scene in my mind about the disaster horror movie wedding that I'm going insane

[6lostgirl6]

Dean Winchester Masterlist

🩸 = Smut/18+ Themes 🩸

Fics:

Headcanons:

Yandere Alphabet - Demon!Dean

Dean As Your Boyfriend HCs - Coming Soon!

Imagines/Scenarios:

[samsgff]

*Using the events of s5 with a little bit of alternations*

⚠️ tw for suicide nd alcoholism ⚠️

Once Sam jumped into the hole dean felt like he was stabbed right through the heart.

Days, weeks, months had gone by and Dean was still grieving. See everyone has their own way of grieving Dean's way was to rot at Bobby's house, he did not move an inch from his bed, he let himself drown completely in his sorrow. Bobby tried his best to convince him to go on hunting trips with him and constantly told him it'll help, but dean's only reply was "I'm done".

Day after day, the bottles of boose kept increasing, but drinking was his only escape. It was his way to numb the pain, it was his way to fill in the void inside of him that kept growing ever since the incident. It was his way to be at peace, it allowed him to sleep without rewatching his brother jump to his death. However some coping mechanisms lose their purpose at some point. The alcohol was not doing it for the now only child winchester, even so he tried to keep on going but what was left for him to hang on to if the only person he ever cared for was gone? And so one night, when Bobby was out, Dean went looking for some pills and since he knew Bobby more than his own father he knew exactly where he kept them so it didn't take much time for him to find those colorful tablets. He wrote a farewell letter to his adoptive father his one and only father, thanking him for taking him and his younger brother under his wing and apologized for being such a pain in the ass for the past few years. Dean knew the right dose, he always has. As he swallowed those pills down with whiskey he could feel the inside of his stomach already lightning up in flames, but he didn't care, he wanted it to end, he wanted to be where he belonged, in hell, next to his sammy.

Few minutes later, everything went silent, his body was completely numb, his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

The old man arrived at his house, he opened the door, it was quiet way too quiet. He placed his keys on the coffee table and called out: "Dean?" his eyes caught the letter, he opened it with shaky hands, that can't be, Dean wouldn't do that he tried gaslighting himself. He dropped the letter and ran as fast he could breaking down the door and holding Dean's unconscious body between his arms. "No Dean wake up" He yelled. "Wake up now boy" he yelled again as his eyes filled up with tears. "Dean don't do that to me" he mumbled while holding his body closer to him. "Castiel!!" he screamed. "Get down here cas now!" he screamed again hoping the angel would answer his prayers. And he did. "what happened?" he asked confused. "Fix him now or i swear" Bobby threatened. Cas placed his hand over Dean's forehead and it only took a few seconds before he opened his eyes again.

He adjusted himself, looked at his hands all confused.

"No no noo" he screamed in anger.

"WHY DID YOU BRING ME BACK?" he looked at the angel and his adoptive father with eyes full of tears.

"i was ready to go i was ready to die" he yelled.

"Well too bad because i wasn't" Bobby snapped

"the only person who brought a purpose to my life is gone. The only person i ever loved and cared for and looked after is gone. And there's a hole inside of that just keeps on growing and growing everyday and it- it hurts it hurts so much i thought- i thought i could numb the pain but it's crushing me it's sucking the life out of me i can't i just can't" he cried out.

Bobby and Cas stood above him, with sadness and despair in their eyes.

"i think i could help" Cas mumbled

Dean looked up to him with the tiniest bit of hope.

"i could erase every memory you ever had with sam it would be like he was never your brother- like he never existed" he continued while avoiding eye contact.

"no i can't allow that" bobby added

"this is my decision bobby" dean replied firmly.

"do it cas" he said as he stood up and faced him.

"but this is going to hurt" castiel warned him before proceeding.

"i said do it" he repeated.

The angel placed the palm of his hand over the hunters forehead and channeled every power he had, it didn't take long before dean fell to his knees screaming as all of the memories with his younger brother flashed before his eyes. Bobby looked away since he couldn't handle seeing his son in that condition.

Once it was over dean fell to the ground unconscious.

"his body is going to need a little of time to readjust" cas told Bobby in a reassuring tone.

"i hope you realize the consequences of what you just did" the adoptive father added before leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.