#demon dean x reader

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Useless

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

Requested by @abiball027

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not exactly.” Crowley shrugged.

“What—“

Dean interrupted you.

“It’s all me, sweetheart.”

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

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

Dean and Crowley’s matching grins turned your stomach.

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

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

“I-I don’t understand.” you shivered.

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

“What are you talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

“She’s awake,” Crowley said.

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

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

Dean just chuckled.

“Wherever we want.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unless…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dean just laughed.

…

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve always been the weak one…”

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

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

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

“Hiya sweetheart, did you miss me?”

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

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

But you didn’t even look at it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

“We need to talk,” he said to Dean.

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

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

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

You stiffened, and Dean noticed.

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

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

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

…

You returned to Dean when he waved you over.

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

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

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

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

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

What had you gotten yourself into?

…

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

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

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

“Pick a side!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, easy—not him sweetheart.”

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dean, stop it!” Sam yelled.

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

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

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

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

Sam’s gaze never wavered.

“But are you happy?”

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

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

“Oh, sweetheart…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, come. That’s an order.”

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

“Screw your orders.”

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

“You little—“

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dean, stop! It’s over.”

…

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

“Tie me down and lock me up, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

When he pulled away, you took a deep breath.

“I’m ready.”

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“P-punishment?” You asked nervously.

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He didn’t hurt you?” Sam asked.

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

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

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

…

“I want to see her.”

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s sleeping. She needs it.”

Dean deflated, discouraged.

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

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

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

“Do you think she hates me?”

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course he does. Why wouldn’t he?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You ducked your head as the tears returned.

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

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

You were shaking your head.

“I-I should’ve—“

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

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

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

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

“How do you feel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Deans face fell, and you regretted asking.

“What?”

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

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

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

“Ok, Dean.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m so—“

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes ma’am.”

Taglist:

@mrvlxgrl @nyotamalfoy @chocorade @inlovewhithafairytale @aestheticdaisies @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

Fic Taglist:

@just-levyy @mfstargirlsworld

[kaleldobrev]

Shiny New Toy (1)

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Fem!Virgin!Reader

Summary: You're Demon Dean's shiny new toy

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (3x), Smut (Oral Sex, Fingering), Virgin Reader, Demon Dean (yes, he gets a warning), Bondage (kinda?), Forced Orgasm (kinda?)

Authors Note: I feel like I should apologize for this cause I wrote this when I was horny past midnight when I should have been sleeping but I'm not going to apologize | What I should be apologizing for is the fact that I wrote this knowing that it's gonna be multiple parts | This is the more tamer of the parts | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, trying to adjust to the unnatural red glow of the room you were currently in. Your hands were above your head, chained up and in thick cuffs. Your legs were spread apart equal to your shoulders; they too were chained up in similar cuffs. Looking down at your body, you almost didn’t realize what you were wearing at first, as you were too distracted by the cuffs on your wrist and ankles. You were wearing a thin layer of clothing; wearing something that you hadn’t bought yourself, nor would ever buy. You were wearing a matching set of lace see-through lingerie. And from the feeling of the cold metal against your ass, the panties that you were wearing was in fact a thong - something you hated more than anything.

Your stomach felt like it was in knots, and your throat was unbelievably dry, like you hadn’t had water in days. You didn’t know how long you had been in this room; the last thing you had remembered was being in the Bunker, you and Sam being chased with a hammer by Dean. In this moment, all you could think about was Sam, hoping and wishing that he was okay.

The sound of a metal door opened behind you, and from the sound of it, it sounded heavy. You shut your eyes for a brief moment, trying to gather your thoughts and trying to lower your racing heart; but it was all a failed attempt. In addition to the door you heard heavy boots walking across the floor behind you, followed by a small chuckle. The heavy boots and that chuckle were two things that you instantly recognized. “Dean.” You mumbled, letting out a breathy sigh.

A hand touched your arm, and your body jumped and tensed at the same time from the contact. Dean finally coming into view, giving you the flirtiest of smiles; one that you had been so accustomed to getting from him. “Hey Sunshine.” Your heart picked up the pace at hearing your nickname that he had reserved only for you. “Your heart is going a million miles. I could hear it down the hall.”

He ran his hand down your arm, across your breasts, all the way down to your stomach, just stopping right above the hem of your panties. “Where are we?” You asked.

“We’re in Hell Sweetheart.” He said so matter of factly. You were fucked. One of his fingers started playing with the hem of your panties; a part of you was starting to get turned on, but another part of you tried remaining strong; but that part was failing as your body was reacting in a much different way. You were almost embarrassed, ashamed that you were getting turned on; and Dean had barely touched you.

He removed his finger from the hem and walked over to a small cart that consisted of an assortment of tools. He picked up one tool, that seemed like a knife of some sort. Your body tensed up again, afraid of what he was going to do with it. Dean chuckled, noticing that your body had tensed. “You afraid of this?” He asked, holding the knife up, a small grin on his lips. You nodded. “Aw baby.” His voice seemed very amused.

Walking over to you, he gently started tracing the point of the knife on your skin. He didn’t apply enough pressure to leave any marks, but just enough to feel the sharpness from the blade. He started at your legs and started tracing upward, stopping at the hem again. For some reason, he was obsessed. “So beautiful.” He mumbled. He looked at you, still grinning. “I picked this little number out for you. Needed to know if you would look just as good as I pictured you would.” He paused for a moment before taking the blade of the knife and cutting off the thong; quickly throwing it off to the side. “More beautiful than I pictured.” You knew he was no longer talking about the lingerie, but your bare pussy in front of him. Although you weren’t naked, you might as well have been.

“Dean.” Was all you could get out. You had wanted to say more, but your body wasn’t cooperating.

“If I touch you, are you going to be wet for me?” He asked. You weren’t sure if he had actually wanted you to respond or not. But before you could, one of his fingers was already touching your clit. You sucked in a breath at the sudden contact. He looked at your pussy for a moment as he slowly slide his finger up and down moving some of the wetness around. He looked at you, seeming satisfied that you were already wet for him. “Sweetheart, I’ve barely touched you and you’re soaked.” His face changed then, his grin almost turning into an evil like smirk. “Wait. That’s right. You’re a virgin.” He chuckled. “Virgins get wet so easily. I almost forgot what that’s like.”

You had told Dean in confidence a few months ago that you were a virgin. Upon telling him, he had practically offered to take it. But you had told him that you didn’t want to lose your virginity with a one night stand, that you had wanted to lose it to someone that you loved and someone that loved you just the same. You remembered briefly now, that he almost seemed hurt by your words.

“Now tell me.” He began, putting the knife back into the cart. “When you say virgin, how virgin are we talking here?” He asked. “Ever been fingered? Eaten out?” You shook your head. “Never? Not even once?”

“No.” Your no sounded so weak. It wasn’t like you didn’t want those things, you just never really had the opportunity. Hunting had taken up a lot of your time, and you weren’t one for one night stands. So getting fingered, eaten out, or having sex was something that didn’t happen for you. Although you were a little ashamed, you also weren’t completely upset by it either, given the fact that you had only just turned 21 a few weeks prior - it was perfectly normal for a woman your age to still be a virgin in all senses of the word.

“You know, when you first told me that you were a virgin, I gotta say Sweetness, I was very surprised.” He said, stepping in between your legs. “But, it gave me thoughts about you that…” he licked his lips before he started kissing your inner thighs. “Made me realize how badly I’ve wanted you forever.” More kisses; and more wetness started to form. A small moan had escaped your lips. “Cause baby, when I first met you, I wanted you, and wanted you bad. But, had to stop myself. You know why?” He licked a long strip of your clit. “Even though you were 18, a part of me thought that it was so…wrong to ruin you that young."

You shouldn’t have been turned on by his words but you were. You remembered the day you had met Dean. You had just turned 18 a few weeks before and you just graduated from high school. You had noticed the way Dean had looked at you, giving you his classic flirty smile. But you noticed how quickly his demeanor changed once you said how old you were. His demeanor going from overly flirty, to dad or friend. You had figured in that moment that he had no intentions of ever wanting to pursue a relationship with you given your age. You were a little crushed to say the least.

“You have no idea how hard it’s been trying to control myself around you.” He took one of his fingers and started to slowly push inside your cunt. “So many times I pictured what it would be like to just bend you over the counter and fuck that little ass of yours raw.” His finger was going slow, and you were thankful for that; but amazed at the same time. “So many times I’ve pictured having my head between these legs of yours and eating you out until your legs turned into jello.” He added a second finger now, and you tensed up, clenching around his fingers.

“You’re so wet for me.” He mumbled. “And you’re taking my fingers real good too.” He said a bit louder. Two of his fingers were now fully inside of you, knuckle deep. “I may be a demon, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna be nice and not let you cum. Especially given the circumstances.” The way he said it, it sounded almost as if you should be thanking him. His movements started going slow, as he started pumping his fingers inside of you. It was a weird sensation, but a sensation that your body had craved for such a long time; especially from Dean. You had wanted so much to lose your virginity to him; but not to this version. He was a demon, a cruel, heartless knight of hell. Not your sweet, loving, nerdy best friend whom you were in love with.

“Dean please…” You weren’t sure what you had wanted to say in that moment. You didn’t necessarily want him to continue or to stop; your body and mind were confused. You had felt like you shouldn’t have been wet for him, to be turned on, he was a demon after all. But all you saw and felt was Dean, no demon in sight despite what you had actually knew.

“Yes Sweetheart?” He asked, his fingers were starting to pick up the pace, every so often his fingers would hook and curl inside of you, trying their best to get the perfect angle. You felt yourself starting to get wetter and wetter, and you knew how much Dean was enjoying this. He had pictured you so many times. “Need you to use your words doll.”

The pressure inside of you was building, your pussy clenching around his fingers. “My little virgin gonna cum?” He practically whispered. You couldn’t help but nod. “You know how I know? You’re clenching so tight around my fingers.” He smirked. His free hand tilted your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him. Your hips instinctively started swiveling trying to help yourself cum. He looked at your hips for a moment before making eye contact with you again. “Look at those little hips go.” He grinned again. “Want to look at your face the first time you cum. Need to see your O face.”

His fingers were aggressive now, his movements were erratic. Although you were close to an orgasm, it almost felt like he was trying to force one out of you; something that you didn’t think was possible. A moment later you started coming; your face contorted, and your eyes briefly shut. Your hips bucked up, and Dean continued to finger you through your orgasm. “Fuck.” You breathed out, your chest rising and falling. He removed his fingers from your cunt, and you already missed them inside of you. He brought his fingers to his lips and licked them clean.

“More delicious than I pictured.” He said. “Can’t wait for you to cum around my cock.” He smirked. This was going to be a long night for sure.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know!

[lila-lou]

✨Beyond saving✨

Summary: Dean became a demon and left you overnight. Three months have passed since then, in which you wanted nothing more than for him to finally come back. However, when he returned, it became painfully clear that he could no longer be saved.

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Rape, Language, Angst, Hurt, Violence, Humiliation - it´s just pure darkness

Word Count: 4289

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

You sat alone in the bunker, your breaths shallow and pained, the echoes of recent battles still reverberating in your mind. Sam, fueled by determination and desperation, had embarked on a relentless search for Dean, accompanied by Castiel. Left behind, you nursed your injuries.

Your ribs ached with every breath, a testament to the encounters with some demons in your relentless search for Dean. Each shadow seemed to whisper his name, taunting you with his absence.

Cradling your injured side, you sank into the cold embrace of a chair, the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon you. How long had it been since Dean had disappeared into the night, consumed by the darkness that had claimed him? The minutes stretched into eternity, each tick of the clock echoing the ache in your heart.

Outside, the world continued to spin, oblivious to the turmoil within the bunker's walls. But for you, time stood still, trapped in a limbo of fear and longing. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind, raised hopes that Dean would materialize before you, his familiar presence a balm to your weary soul.

But as the weeks slipped by, despair threatened to overwhelm you.

In the depths of your despair, a voice whispered a gentle reminder: hope. It was a fragile thread, woven with memories of shared laughter and whispered promises.

With each heartbeat, you whispered a silent vow to never give up on Dean, to keep fighting until he was safely by your side once more.

Two long weeks had passed since Sam and Cas had departed, leaving you to grapple with the silence that hung heavy in their absence. And three months had slipped by since Dean, consumed by the darkness of his demonic transformation, had vanished into the night, his departure leaving a void that seemed impossible to fill.

As you made your way to the kitchen, your movements slow and deliberate, the pain in your ribs flared with every breath.

Reaching the refrigerator, you paused, your hand hovering over the handle as a wave of loneliness washed over you. The prospect of facing another day without Dean, without the warmth of his presence, felt like an insurmountable burden. But you couldn't afford to succumb to despair, not when there was still a glimmer of hope flickering in the darkness.

With a determined exhale, you opened the refrigerator door, the cool air washing over you. Amidst the assortment of food and beverages, your fingers closed around a cold bottle of beer, the familiar label offering a brief respite from the ache that threatened to consume you.

Bringing the bottle to your lips, you took a long swallow. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself to linger in the memories of happier times, when laughter had filled the air and the future had seemed full of endless possibilities.

That’s when you heard heavy footsteps echoed through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine as they drew closer. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of fear and longing coursing through your veins. You knew without a doubt who stood seconds later right behind you, his presence a familiar yet chilling presence that sent a tremor of apprehension rippling through your body.

Dean.

The name hung heavy in the air, laden with the weight of everything that had transpired in the months since his transformation into a demon. Three long months had passed since you had last seen him.

And now, as he stood mere inches away, his chest pressed against your back, you couldn't bring yourself to turn around. The air crackled with tension, thick with unspoken words and the palpable sense of danger that surrounded him.

You felt his breath ghost across the nape of your neck, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within him. The urge to turn and face him, to confront the demon that wore Dean's face, warred with the instinct to flee, to put as much distance between you and his darkness.

But as the seconds stretched into eternity, you remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the fear that gripped you like a vice. Dean wasn't here to do nice things, of that you were certain. He was a harbinger of chaos, a reminder of the perilous path he had chosen.

And yet, despite the fear that coiled in the pit of your stomach, there remained a flicker of hope, a tiny ember that refused to be extinguished. Deep down, buried beneath the layers of uncertainty and despair, you held onto the belief that somewhere within the depths of the demon that stood behind you, a fragment of the real Dean still existed.

But as the moments ticked by, the silence stretching taut between you, you couldn't shake the nagging doubt that whispered in the recesses of your mind. Would Dean ever be the same again? Or had he been consumed entirely by the darkness that now held him in its thrall?

With a trembling hand, you reached for the bottle of beer on the counter, the cold glass a tangible anchor in the storm of emotions that raged within you. And as you took a fortifying sip, steeling yourself for whatever came next.

Dean's voice cut through the silence like a blade, his words laced with a dark edge that sent a shiver down your spine. "Sweetheart", he drawled, the term dripping with mockery, a cruel reminder of the tender endearments he had once whispered in your ear. "Missed me, did you?", he taunted, his tone sending a chill down your spine.

You could feel his presence behind you, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer. The sensation sent a wave of unease washing over you, his proximity a stark reminder of the danger that lurked within him.

But even as his lips brushed against your ear, sending a shudder of revulsion coursing through you, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. The memory of the man you had once loved, the man buried beneath the darkness that now consumed him, lingered in the recesses of your mind, a faint echo of a love that refused to die.

And as his lips lingered against your ear, his touch a visceral reminder of the danger that surrounded you, you felt a flicker of defiance ignite within you. Steeling yourself against the fear that threatened to consume you, you squared your shoulders and met his gaze head-on.

"Dean". you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, "this isn't you. I know you're still in there, somewhere"-. It was a desperate plea, a faint glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf you both.

But as you spoke, the shadow that lurked behind his eyes seemed to deepen. And though you longed to reach out and pull him back from the brink, to save him from the darkness that haunted him, you knew that the battle ahead would be fraught with peril.

For Dean wasn't just fighting against the darkness within him; he was fighting against the very essence of his own soul.

Dean’s words struck you like a barrage of bullets, each one piercing your heart with a searing pain that threatened to consume you.

“All I want is to fuck that tight little pussy of yours”, he sneered, his voice dripping with venomous lust. “Tried so many girls these past few weeks, but none of them felt like you”.

Your breath caught in your throat. His words were like a dagger to your soul, shredding any remaining fragments of hope or love you had clung to.

As he pressed you against the unforgiving surface of the kitchen counter, his touch rough and unforgiving, you felt a surge of pain shoot through your body. Bruises blossomed beneath his fingertips. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

You were overwhelmed, broken by his actions and his words, but you refused to let him break you completely.

“Stop talking”, you whispered, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel symphony of mockery that reverberated in your ears like a relentless assault. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't tell me you're jealous", he taunted, his voice dripping with derision as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin. "You wanna know how I fucked all those other girls while you were out there playing the hero, searching for me?".

The words hit you. You had risked everything to find him, to believe in the possibility of redemption, only to be met with scorn and betrayal.

But despite the pain, despite the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to consume you, you refused to let him see your weakness.

"Go ahead", you spat, your voice laced with a bitter edge. "Show me. Show me just how little I meant to you. How easily you threw away everything we had".

And as he smirked, his features twisted with triumph, you braced yourself for the inevitable onslaught of pain and humiliation. Dean wasn't the man you had loved; he was a monster, a demon wearing the face of the man you once knew.

But even as he moved closer, his hands reaching for you with a hunger that made your skin crawl, you refused to back down. You were broken, yes, but you were not defeated. And as you stood your ground in the face of his darkness.

Dean's eyes gleamed as he leaned in closer. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea", he snarled, before he gripped your wrists with a force that made you flinch.

"I'm about to show you just how hard I fucked those sluts", he continued, his voice low and menacing. "Hard enough to land them in the hospital. They begged for it, you know. Begged for the touch of a real man".

The bile rose in your throat at his words, a sickening mixture of disgust and despair threatening to choke you. How could he speak of such violence with such casual indifference?

But even as the questions raced through your mind, you knew there would be no answers. Dean was lost. And as he moved closer, his hands trailing down your body with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl, you knew that this was about to get messy.

Dean's voice dripped with disdain as he sneered, "Where's your motivation, huh? You call yourself a hunter, but here you are, doing nothing to stop me". His words cut through the air like a whip, each syllable laced with hate.

You gritted your teeth against the surge of anger that threatened to consume you, meeting his gaze with a defiant glare. "My motivation", you spat, your voice trembling with suppressed rage, "is to stop you from hurting anyone else. To stop you from causing any more pain and suffering."

Dean's laughter echoed off the walls of the kitchen, a cruel mockery. "You really think you can stop me?", he taunted. "At the end of the night, sweetheart, I'll get what I came for. And there's nothing you can do to stop me".

“You´re pathetic, Dean”.

Dean's hand struck your cheek with a brutal force, the sharp crack of skin against skin echoing through the kitchen. Pain exploded across your face, a searing heat that radiated through every fiber of your being. You stumbled backward, the force of the blow sending you crashing against the wall, the impact jolting your already broken ribs.

Stars danced at the edges of your vision as you fought to regain your bearings, struggling to draw breath through the haze of pain that enveloped you. But even as you gasped for air, the taste of blood filling your mouth, you refused to let him see your weakness.

Dean loomed over you, his features contorted with a twisted mixture of triumph and cruelty. "Is that fire I see in you now, sweetheart?", he sneered, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Good. Because I want something to burn while I fuck you".

Your fists pounded against Dean's chest, each blow fueled by a desperate fury that threatened to consume you. But his laughter only grew louder.

"Aw, sweetheart, is that the best you can do?", he taunted. "I expected more from a hunter like you. But I guess I overestimated your abilities".

With a primal scream, you launched yourself at him once more, determined to land a blow that would wipe the smirk from his face.

But before your fist could connect, Dean moved with speed, his hand closing around your wrists with a vice-like grip. Pain exploded through your body as he squeezed, the bones in your wrists grinding together with a sickening crunch.

You cried out in agony as he pushed you against the kitchen table, the unforgiving surface digging into your spine. Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled against his iron grip, but it was futile. Dean was stronger, more powerful than you could ever be.

"Look at you, all fire and fury", he sneered, his breath hot against your ear. "But in the end, you're just a weak little girl, aren't you?".

With a trembling hand, you tried to push yourself up from the table, but Dean’s hand came down with a force that sent shockwaves of pain radiating through your body. You cried out as he pushed you back down, the unforgiving surface digging into your stomach, leaving you gasping for air.

“Oh, princess, don’t strain yourself”, he mocked. “You’re much prettier when you’re lying down”.

“You know, sweetheart”, Dean taunted. “I always did like a woman who knows her place. And your place is right here, beneath me”.

Dean's laughter filled the room like a sinister symphony, his eyes gleaming with pleasure as he towered over you. "Oh, sweetheart, look at you", he taunted. "All bruised and broken, yet still trying to get up. Admirable, really".

You winced as pain shot through your broken wrists and ribs, rendering you helpless against his looming presence. Every movement sent waves of agony coursing through your body, but you refused to let him see your weakness.

With deliberate slowness, Dean reached for his belt, his fingers tracing the buckle with a predatory precision. "You know, princess", he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, "I've been looking forward to this. Been craving it ever since I left".

Your heart pounded in your chest, a sickening mixture of fear and revulsion churning in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to scream, to fight back with every fiber of your being, but the pain held you captive, a prisoner in your own body.

As Dean slowly undid his belt, a smirk played across his lips, his eyes alight with twisted desire. "You're going to love this, sweetheart", he groaned, his voice laced with a dark promise. "I'll make sure of it".

You knew what was coming, but you were powerless to stop it.

Dean's grip tightened around you as he pushed you further down the table, his movements rough. You winced as your broken wrists bore the brunt of his force, each new position sending fresh waves of pain shooting through your body.

With a smirk, Dean reached for the waistband of your shorts and panties, his fingers trailing along the fabric with a slowness that made your skin crawl. "Let's see what we have here, shall we?", he mused, his voice thick with anticipation.

As he pulled them down, exposing your dry folds to his leering gaze, a wave of humiliation washed over you. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as if every last shred of your dignity had been stripped away.

Dean's eyes alight with amusement. "Well, well, well", he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "Looks like you're making this harder than it should be, sweetheart. What's the matter? Not as wet as you used to be?".

You wanted to scream, but all you could do was lie there, exposed and humiliated, as Dean continued to mock and degrade you.

"Oh, sweetheart, this is going to hurt", he chuckled.

"You always did have trouble taking me, didn't you?", Dean jeered. "But don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure you feel every inch of me".

His words struck you like a physical blow, a reminder of the intimacy you once shared, now twisted into something dark and grotesque.

You lay on your stomach on the table, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you braced yourself for what was to come. Your ass faced Dean, vulnerable and exposed, as he hovered over you.

With a chuckle, Dean reached for his jeans and boxers, pulling them down just enough to free his throbbing length.

"Oh, sweetheart, look at what you're missing out on", he taunted. "You used to beg for this, didn't you? Beg for me to fill you up until you couldn't take it anymore".

As Dean moved closer, his hands tracing the lines of your body, you felt a surge of panic rise within you. But even as you struggled against him, you knew that resistance was futile. He was too strong, too powerful, and you were helpless to stop him.

With a hard thrust, Dean tried to shove himself inside you, but your tightness proved too much for him to handle. The pain was excruciating, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Fuck", Dean cursed, his voice strained with frustration as he tried to force himself deeper. "Why do you have to be so fucking tight?".

Tears welled in your eyes as the pain intensified.

"Looks like I'll have to make do," he sneered, his voice thick with contempt as he spat down on his cock. "All because of you, princess. Can't even get wet for me anymore".

Dean gripped your hips with a brutal force, before he thrust himself forward once more. The pain was unbearable, a searing agony that threatened to consume you from within.

"Please, Dean, stop", you pleaded, your voice raw with desperation. But he only laughed, the sound ringing in your ears like a mocking taunt.

"Stop?", he scoffed, his grip on your hips tightening even further. "Why would I stop when we're just getting started, sweetheart?".

Tears streamed down your cheeks, knowing that there was no escape.

With a grunt of effort, Dean pushed himself inside you with force.

You cried out, the sound muffled by the unforgiving surface of the table beneath you, as he filled you with a brutal intensity.

"Fuck", Dean groaned, his voice strained with exertion. "You're so fucking tight".

As Dean continued to thrust into you with a relentless determination, the agony intensified, threatening to overwhelm you completely.

Your body bore the marks of Dean's brutal assault, bruises already blossoming across your skin despite his relentless onslaught having barely begun. Each movement sent shockwaves of pain rippling through your broken form, the agony etched into every line and contour of your battered body.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, silent yet relentless, as you fought to endure the torment that Dean inflicted upon you.

With a cruel grip, Dean pressed your head tighter against the table, his hands exerting a crushing force that threatened to suffocate you. "You're not enjoying this as much as I am, huh?", he taunted.

And then, with a suddenness that left you reeling, he pulled out completely, leaving you gasping for air as he prepared to thrust into you once more. "Let's see how much you can take", he growled.

The table shuddered beneath you as Dean drove himself into you with a brutal force, each movement wracking your body with a searing agony that threatened to consume you whole. "You like that?", he sneered, his voice laced with amusement. "Or do I need to go harder?".

Your pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears as Dean continued his assault, his grip tightening in your hair, pulling your head up with a violent force. "Tell me how much you missed my big cock", he demanded, his voice a menacing growl as he forced you to look him in the eye.

You winced as your ribs cracked even further under the strain, the pain nearly unbearable as you struggled to form words through the agony. "Please", you gasped, tears streaming down your cheeks. "I can't...I can't do this anymore. Please, Dean, just stop".

But he only laughed, the sound sending a chill down your spine as he forced your head back down, his hands like vices around your hair. "Not good enough, sweetheart", he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "Tell me you missed it. Tell me you've been dreaming about it every night since I left".

You choked back a sob, the words catching in your throat as you fought to resist his demands. But with each tug of his hands, each crack of your already fractured ribs, the pain became too much to bear. "I missed it", you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breaths. "I missed you".

His smirk widened at your admission.

"That's right, sweetheart", he groaned. "You missed me, didn't you? Missed my big cock pounding into you, making you scream".

With each brutal thrust, your cries of pain mingled with his laughter, the sound a symphony of torment that echoed off the walls. "Look at you", he sneered, his hands gripping your hips with a punishing force. "Crying like a little bitch while I fuck you senseless. You love it, don't you? Love being my little whore".

Dean's voice dripped with satisfaction as he hovered over you. "You feel so fucking good", he purred, his words like venom as he surveyed your broken form. "None of those other bitches could compare to you. None of them had that perfect ass and tits. None of them were as tight as you".

You winced as the pain in your ribs intensified with every thrust, each movement sending shockwaves of agony coursing through your body. It felt like your lungs were being crushed, the pressure unbearable as you struggled to draw breath.

Your face was red and swollen from being shoved over the table, tears mingling with sweat as you fought to endure the torment.

With a cruel grip, Dean pulled you around, forcing you to sit on the edge of the table. Your body felt heavy and limp, your senses dulled by the relentless onslaught of pain. You barely registered his rough handling as he grabbed your jaw with a painful force, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Look at me", he snarled as his eyes transformed into pools of endless blackness. "I want you to see exactly who's doing this to you".

You whimpered weakly, your gaze meeting his dark, soulless eyes as he pushed himself inside you once more. The pain was blinding, a searing fire that threatened to consume you whole, but you were too far gone to fight back. Each movement leaving you teetering on the edge of consciousness.

"You're pathetic", he scoffed. "All this pain, and you still can't look away. You really are mine, aren't you?".

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to stay upright, your body wracked with pain and exhaustion.

Dean's grip tightened around your neck, nearly choking you as he held you up to keep you from falling. Your vision blurred, the edges of consciousness slipping away as the pain and lack of oxygen overwhelmed you. Yet, you remained trapped in his grasp, unable to break free from his cruel hold.

"You're still in love with me, aren't you?", Dean sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he mocked your lingering affection. " You actually think there's redemption for me. How sweet".

Your breath came in ragged gasps, each word he spoke a dagger in your heart. The weight of his words, combined with the physical agony, threatened to crush your soul entirely.

Dean chuckled darkly, his grip on your neck tightening even further. "I'm going to come inside you. Every last drop. So that even when I'm gone, you'll still have a piece of me to remember".

As Dean's lips crashed against yours with brutal force, you felt the sting of his bite on your lip, drawing blood as a surge of pain shot through you. With a loud groan, he released himself inside you, his body trembling with the force of his release.

Through the haze of pain and exhaustion, you felt another rib give way under the pressure, causing agony to lance through your already battered body. But you were trapped, unable to move or escape as Dean held you there to steady himself.

"You took me so well", Dean murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction as he kissed your forehead tenderly. "You always gonna be my favorite".

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he finally released his grip on you, leaving you slumped against the table, broken and defeated. "I'll come back for you", he whispered, his voice filled with a promise of further torment to come.

Before he left, Dean turned back to you, his eyes cold and devoid of any trace of humanity.

"Stop trying to heal me", he commanded, his voice laced with a chilling finality. "I'm beyond saving".

His words hung in the air like a heavy weight, crushing your hopes and shattering your illusions of redemption. With a heavy heart, you watched as he disappeared into the darkness, leaving you alone with your pain and despair.

As Dean's words echoed in your mind, the world around you faded into darkness. The pain, both physical and emotional, overwhelmed your senses, pulling you into unconsciousness.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 I'm thinking about turning this into a multi-part Story. You up?

-

Part 2

[holylulusworld]

Christmas with a demon

Summary: Dean won’t let you go. Never.

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of kidnapping, a hint of fluff, kidnapping

“Dean, can we not go home? I bet Sammy is missing us,” you tug at Dean’s wrist. “Christmas is soon, and I don’t want to spend it on the road.”

“Why not?” He cocks his head to watch you walk toward him. You’re wearing only his red shirt and a pair of fuzzy socks. Dean smirks as you limp a little – the aftermath of his insatiable desire for you. “We got us.”

You sigh deeply. “Dean, you are a demon and I’m still your hostage or something.” You wrinkle your nose when he tells you that this is a relationship, not a hostage situation. “This is not how I imagined our relationship would turn out. I wanted love, not being a demon’s toy.”

“You’re not a toy to me,” he argues. Dean rubs his scruffy chin, wondering how he can convince you to not leave him. He won’t keep you around using force. “Fine, I’ll get you a tree and all. Wait here.”

“Wait, what are you—" you sigh as he’s halfway toward his car before you can stop him. He’s still the man you love, but so different at the same time. “I don’t want a tree, only my Dean back, and for Sam to not be alone on Christmas.”

“Don’t open your eyes,” Dean whispers as he guides you away from the Impala. “I mean it, baby. No cheating.”

“Where are we going?” You can’t see because Dean put a bandana over your eyes. “Dean, I don’t like this. I hope you didn’t find another spot you want to christen.”

“No, sweetheart,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to your neck. “It’s a surprise, a Christmas surprise. You’ll love it, Y/N.”

You let Dean guide you toward a house. He tells you to wait as he unlocks the door and opens it for you. “Dean, where are we? I don’t like this.”

“Just relax, sweetheart. I swear you’ll love it,” he tuts and shoves you inside the house. He slams the door shut with his boot, chuckling as something sounding like a picture frame drops to the ground. “Alright, here it is.”

He takes the bandana off, allowing you to see. You gasp as you are standing in a living room decorated for Christmas. A huge Christmas tree stands in the corner, and there are at least twenty beautifully wrapped gifts under the tree.

“Dean, how did you?” You frown as your eyes land on the picture frames on a shelf above the fireplace. “Where are we? What did you do?”

“Uh-Crowley sent me to collect a few souls,” he shrugs. “Guy was due in three days. I sent him to hell a little faster.”

“What?” You turn around to look at Dean. “You killed the man on Christmas Eve? How could you? How?”

“Relax,” he cups your cheek. “I was joking. I only hijacked their Christmas. They are at a motel, believing there is a gas leak at their home. We have all night, Y/N:”

“No,” you sniffle and sidestep Dean. “We will leave their home and you will call them and tell them everything is alright. You can’t just steal their Christmas. This is not what I wanted.”

He groans. “What did you want? A tree? Gifts?”

“I wanted the man I love back, and for my family to not worry about me and you. I wanted to drive home for Christmas and make sure Sammy was not alone. You will never understand what I want because you’re not my Dean.”

Dean chases after you when you storm off. You shake his hand off and glare at him. “Leave me alone. If you want to play happy couple, do it. But I’m out of this!”

“Wake, wake,” Dean purrs in your ear. He pecks your cheek, trying to wake you. “Sweetheart, I know you are awake.”

“I don’t want to,” you grumble. “Just leave me alone. You’re worse than the Grinch. How could you steal their Christmas and house.”

“I gave it back,” he grumbles, looking offended at your reaction. “Stop moping and get up. I don’t want you to spend Christmas in bed. I mean, we could spend it in bed, but I got a surprise for you.”

“I pass,” you grunt. “If it’s as awful as the last one, please keep it to yourself.”

“Nah, you will love that one. Promised.”

“Fine. If it’s a ribbon around your dick I must disappoint you. Dean pulled that prank three years ago.”

“I remember,” he purrs. “You loved to unwrap your gift.”

“Dean,” you sigh as he hopefully looks at you. His eyes barely turn black these days and you hope, if you play along he will agree to let Sam heal him. “Okay. What’s the surprise?”

“Just wait for it…”

“What did you do?” You look around the poorly decorated motel room.

The tree looks like he stole it from another home.

There are half-wrapped gifts and annoying Christmas songs are blaring from his phone. But the worst is that Sam is sitting on a chair, wrapped in a red ribbon.

“I got you a tree, gifts, and Sammy!” Dean proudly states. He points at his brother, restrained to a chair. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart!”

Tags in reblog.

[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

[daughterofcain-67]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕮𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊 (𝔭𝔱.2)

(Dean Winchester x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After finding more information about the case, Sam and Dean ask Jody if there was a possibility you could be involved with this case. And when they discover you aren’t, they realize they need to keep an eye on you before you could fall to the mark’s urges.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: loosely based on season 10, mentions blood, murder, nothing too graphic this time around (NOT ACCURATE TO THE SHOW SINCE THERE ARE PLANS FOR ALTERNATE OUTCOMES)

Dean’s arm was killing him. It was like an endless fire, relentless burning, but Dean was starting to cope a little better. At least he was able to hide it from Sam successfully so far. He said he needed the work to keep from being restless, which was mostly true, but deep down a part of it was to distract him from the mar, from you, from everything that’s happened. The vacation practically did nothing to help him as much as he wanted Sam to believe it did.

In a way, Dean was gradually beginning to feel like himself again, sure, but it was like the mark knew what was missing whether Dean wanted it or not. The fact was that even if you and Dean split, you two had a connection. And if the both of you were going to be stuck with that mark from your father, you’d have that connection until the end of time.

Sam and Dean were making their rounds through town trying to make any sort of connection to the killings at the farm, see if they had any sort of enemies with any other competing farms or if any other members of the nest made enemies outside of farming life. At the moment, Sam and Dean found themselves in a factory where one of the members named Mikey worked. They were speaking with their supervisor, Eric Raeford.

“So in the last couple of weeks that Mikey was working here, did he seem off at all? Did he act paranoid or something, any suspicions of anyone stalking him or anything like that?” Sam said while Dean took notes on a little notepad.

“No, not really. None of his coworkers seem to think so either. He seemed like just a normal guy. Gosh, I still can’t believe he was murderer like that. Do you think that family was involved in some sort of gang activity? Is it something I should be concerned about with my company?” Eric asked and Dean shook his head.

“No, I don’t think there should be any concern of your well being or that of any of these other coworkers. We’re just looking into any sort of potential connections.” Dean explained.

“Oh… I see. Well as far as I know, Mikey pretty much kept his nose clean of any problems, at least around here anyways. He always showed up to work on time, did his job the best that he could, never did anything that would cause any conflict. But he didn’t really seem to be the type of guy that would rant to any coworkers if he were going through something like this.” Eric continued.

“What about any of his family members? Have you met any of them or have there been any situations that threw up any sort of red flags?” Sam continued and Eric shook his head.

“No, not that I can think of. I didn’t know his family that well. His old man and mom that adopted him were good people, farmers. The wife made the best damn baked goods.” Eric groaned at the last part.

“Have there been any new comers in town that you’ve met recently? Anyone that claimed they were just passing through?” Dean questioned and Eric tried to search his brain for anything that seemed to stand out to him.

“You know…. I was at the bar about a week ago. There was this girl that said she was from Cincinnati taking some sort of nomadic lifestyle for a while. She seemed really nice, but she did seem to have some sort of mysterious vibe about there. And she had this funny looking mark, looked kinda tribal or something.” He said and that was when Dean looked up, brows narrowing as something troubling brewed inside him.

“Tribal mark?” Dean asked and then he started to draw the Mark of Cain before he turned the pad of paper over for Eric to take a look, “Would that be what it looked like?”

“Holy cow- yeah that’s the one! How did you know?” Eric asked, sounding amazed, while Dean had this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Just a hunch…” Dean said as he closed the notepad, tucking it in one of the hidden pockets of his suit jacket.

Sam put a hand in his pocket and pulled out this card holder before he handed one over to Eric, “If you can think of anything else you can tell us, please don’t hesitate to call us.”

“You bet. If you fellas need anything else feel free to stop by again.” Eric said, just wanting to be cooperative.

“Thanks…” And with that, the Winchesters left the factory and Dean opened the door.

When he got inside the vehicle he all but slammed the door shut behind him, “Son of a bitch…”

Sam heard the way his brother grumbled with aggravation with a hint of something else, disappointment maybe? Worry? Sam couldn't pinpoint what it was.

“Dean, you don’t think Y/N could have anything to do with this… do you?” Sam dared to ask and watched his brother grip the wheel tightly for a moment before he turned the engine on.

“Dean?”

“I don’t know, Sam. I really hope not.” Dean said before he pulled out and onto the highway, then Sam continued on.

“What if it is her? What are we going to have to do? If we kill her she’ll just turn into a demon again, sort of like when you died and came back. What the hell happened between you two that made her leave?” Sam questioned, practically interrogating his brother at this point.

“Why do you make it sound like something bad happened? After we both became human it was a mutual decision that she go her own way. I didn’t want her to go, Hell I wish she stayed so you and even Cass can monitor us so neither of us go dark side.” Dean replied.

“Dark side? That’s what you’re calling it?”

“You got a better name for it?”

Sam’s brows narrowed as he rolled his eyes before he looked out of the passenger window, “Are you ever going to talk about what happened? You both seemed to hit it off okay at least near the end.”

“It didn’t work out, alright? Can you drop it please?” Dean snapped, getting agitated with Sam lingering on the way you and him ended things.

After all, in the end things really were mutual. Dean still felt like shit for the things he said to you. And he wished that those three months with you were better than they were, then again demons weren’t exactly known for their redeeming qualities. You may have said there was nothing solid for the two of you to really learn anything abut each other, but Dean was bitter knowing that you seemed like you didn’t even want to give it a chance. Then he remembered one of the last things you said to him, something about you holding up your end when it came to helping him.

“She said she had to go find a way to help me with this blasted mark, whatever the Hell that means.” Dean grumbled.

Sam listened and he thought about the book you told him abut. We’re you looking for it while you were out who knows where doing who knows what? Then he thought about Jody, recalling her opinion about finding you again. If the mark started to effect Dean again, he didn’t deserve to go through it with people who didn’t even know what it was like. Only you’d know what he was going through, so maybe Dean wouldn’t feel so alone.

“Well… if she didn’t have anything to do with the massacre… I think we should consider looking for her.” Sam finally spoke up.

Dean was quiet and focused on the road.

“Think about it, Dean. If she was trying to help you out, what better recourses our out there than what we’ve got in the bunker? If we can track her down and figure out where she’s headed maybe we can convince her to stay.” Sam continued as if convincing Dean as best as he could.

“And what would our excuse be, huh? If she didn’t have anything to do with this case then how are we supposed to convince her to come with us?”

“Come on, man… Stop acting like an idiot. Just because things may have fallen through for you two doesn’t mean she can’t be an ally. If anything, I know you need her around even though you’re claiming not to want to think about her that much. With the way the mark affected you before when you didn’t kill, you may need Y/N for your physical health one of these days.”

The more Sam seemed to talk about you, the more Dean’s arm began to throb under the sleeve of his suit jacket.

“Can we just focus on this case first with Jody before we go searching for her again? We can’t just leave her hanging if this is really our thing after all. If it turns out not to be our thing then we’ll figure it out from there.”

Sam noticed the way Dean seemed to speak through gritted teeth, which caused him to arch a brow upward.

“Are you alright?”

“Never better.” Dean replied just as he pulled up to the police station so they could talk to the sheriff.

When the two federal impersonators made it into the building, one of the officers took them to Jody’s office where she was sitting at her desk in front of her computer. She seemed to be going through some files before she looked up when the door opened, Sam and Dean saw a smile light up her face when she saw the two boys.

“Hey, you two. Any luck so far?” She inquired.

“Well… yes and no.” Sam began.

“We got in touch with Mikey’s boss, Eric Raeford. He said that he was at the bar one night and he met someone that was just passing though. Are you sure you can’t recall anybody coming into town?” Dean asked.

“Dean, kiddo, I’m a busy woman. I seldom get to people inspect if they’re new. That’s why I told you I couldn’t recall a newcomers yesterday when the two of you dropped by.” She reminded.

“Well.. could you maybe do us a favor then and see if this girl has dropped by here via train or something? Just any way to see if she’s been around or not.” Dean said, pulling out his phone to find a picture of you. When he did, he handed the device to Jody who took the phone and gazed at the photo, raising a brow.

“Her name would be…?”

“Y/N… Y/N L/N.”

“You mean-“ Jody looked over at Sam who had a hand behind his neck and an uncomfortable expression on his face.

“Yeah let me see what I can do. She doesn’t look familiar right off hand. You don’t think she did it do you?” She asked and started typing your name in her computer.

“We’re just trying to find where she is. Maybe she could even help us on a case like this, maybe find out what kind of enemies your vamps had in this case or maybe she can help find the killer. Have you heard anything about witnesses?” Dean questioned.

“Well, the only witness I’ve got was actually a member of the rival farm. His name’s James, said he saw a figure wearing all black. Seemed to be more on the feminine side.” Jody said as she continued typing and she found you.

“Y/N L/N…. Tattoo artist based in Cincinnati. Based on her drivers license, she’s too tall to be our perp. Let me see if there’s any record of her leaving or coming here on some form of transportation. See if her alibi checks out.”

“You can do that?” Sam asked, unaware that Jody had footage of some kind of transportation in the first place.

“Well I had asked for it shortly after I called you boys. Wasn’t sure if a hunter would try the rail roads but figured I’d give it some sort of shot.”

Sam looked up at Dean and he tried to think of how he wanted to formulate his next thought on his mind, “What if we called Cass? Maybe he can help track her down. Or… I hate to say it but I think it would be a lot quicker if-“

“Crowley is off the table. We don’t have a use for him. He’s got the blade, probably trying to keep tabs on Cass, no. It’s just a bad idea.” Dean interjected, immediately shutting down the idea.

“Well whatever you two decide to do and whoever you decide to reach out to, the record I’m finding says she was on her way to Minnesota. If you two rush out of here then she may still be there.” Jody looked up at both the hunters.

“What do you two intend to do if her alibi checks out?” The sheriff asks and Sam shrugged a little.

“I figure maybe she could help us out with your case.” He said and Jody looked back at her computer screen.

“Frankly boys, I’m not so sure if this is a hunter or not. I don’t think it’s a monster though. I’m beginning to think I may have to call the actual feds for this one. Maybe they have this person’s files in AFIS or some of their other departments.” Jody said as she pulled up what she could about the train station.

“From what I can tell, Y/N’s alibi does check out, she arrived after the time of the killings.” She continued.

Dean heard the words and he couldn’t help but feel relieved when Jody said you weren’t here for the murder. He hated that even the slightest bit of doubt about you crept in, but in his mind the concerned seemed at least reasonable.

“Well that at least settles the matter of whether or not she was involved, but now it’s a matter of where she could be heading to next. Which I highly doubt she told anybody where she’s going. Dean, I really think we need to call someone.” Sam looked over at Dean.

“Actually… before we do anything rash, I think we need to talk to Eric again, or at least go to the bar. See if the bartender had any reactions with Y/N. Maybe she may have tossed around some ideas of where she’d go next, where in Minnesota if we’re lucky.” Dean replied then he looked over at Jody.

“And if you need anything, call us as soon as you need us. Whether you call the actual feds for your case or not, we’ll come right back here if anything goes wrong.” He said and Jody grinned.

“There’s a reason I’ve got you two on speed dial. By the way, the bar most frequented around here is Blackbird Ale. Ask for Chris.” She insisted, Dean grinned a little.

“Let’s head out Sammy, see what we and find. See you around Jody.”

With that, the two boys made there way out of the office so they could make it to the bar Jodi said to try first. It was worth a shot to try and find you.

Crowley was sitting upon his throne in Hell and he had a very old looking paper in his hand, sort of an agenda his underlings created for him when he was on his sabbatical. Yet he had his head in one of his hands, so disinterested in everything.

He recalled the day one of his demons had their little outburst, questioning the way he proceeded to rule since he went gallivanting around with the elder Winchester and yourself.

He couldn’t help but reminisce upon those times. Despite Dean such a pain in his royal behind, it was a fairly good time. You were much moor cooperative, someone that was able to keep Dean in line until you all seemed to have a falling out.

Crowley hated to admit it but he was beginning to miss the little band from hell. He missed how good of a ring it had to it, the King of Hell, with a Winchester turned Demon and the Daughter of Cain and Abbadon herself.

The three of you would have created the perfect Hell, it would be at its peak since Lucifer himself ruled, which it’s been centuries since people actually feared such a place as Hell. There must’ve been a way to bring it back to its former glory.

“Your greatness?” A timid sounding demon asked and Crowley blinked once or twice before he shifted his gaze up from the disinteresting and dull page to who had the audacity to wreck his train of thought.

“What is it now? Did you run out of souls to torment?” Crowley asked bitterly.

“I just.. wanted to inform you about an update.” The scrawny little demon said and Crowley arched a brow.

“Well? Spit it out. I have more important things to do rather than sit here and play these pathetic guessing games?”

“I-It’s about Cain’s offspring. W-we’ve located her and.. Sir, she’s human.” This seemed to peak Crowley’s interest and he set the paper down on the pile of boring papers beside his throne.

“Tell me more.” He said as he leaned forward.

“W-Well, we aren’t sure when she became human but we have reason to believe after your falling out with the older Winchester and once he became human, she may have been taken to the bunker and they may have turned her as well. We don’t know for sure of the situation leading up to that, but we have reason to believe she is somewhere in Minnesota.”

“Is that so.. And tell me, how did you come to find that out?”

“One of the crossroads demons. They said they caught a glimpse of her last night running away from Saint Paul’s Minnesota with blood on her clothes and hands. When the demon investigated where she was running from, it seemed like she had taken a life.”

Crowley lifted a brow slightly, that didn’t sound like you. After so long of hiding, it didn’t sound right that your first instinct would be to kill without at least a plan, you didn’t seem the reckless type. When it came to these things, not with all your centuries of training and your upbringing from Abbadon.

“Human life?” Crowley inquired.

“No, Sir. Seemed to be just another beastly creature a hunter would come after. We have reason to believe it was what they call a werewolf.”

“Tell me, where is she now?”

“We have reason to believe she is traveling on foot so she may still be just outside of Saint Paul’s Minnesota, we aren’t sure where she is heading next. Would you like to have one of us to track her down and have her followed to keep tabs on her?” The demon asked and Crowley shook his head.

“No. The moment she find out any of us demons are onto her, she’d kill any of us. Just because she is no longer a demon herself doesn’t mean not make her any less of a skilled murderer.” Crowley replied as he rubbed his hand over the lower half of his face, contemplating on what his move should be.

“What will you have us do then, Sir?”

Crowley went quiet as he began to formulate some sort of plan.

“If I may, Sir…” Another demon spoke up, one of Crowley’s advisors and Crowley looked over.

“From what I’m understanding according to a report from a demon close to Sioux Falls, the Winchesters are about to look for Y/N…. It seems they want to monitor her… humanity. Her well being. They may try to diminish her.. talents for lack of a better word.” Crowley lifted a brow.

“And we all know dear Sam wants his brother to lose the mark, if Y/N loses it too then all of our chances of restoring Hell back to what it once was, we must reach out to Y/N before the Winchesters do. They’ve speculated her to be the culprit of a mass killing of vampires, which is why they want to keep her under their radar. It’s only a matter of time before they catch up to her and try and convince her to stay on their good terms, maybe even convince her to be rid the mark as well.”

“It’s a little too soon for them to think her guilty of such ability isn’t it? They could be correct though given her history.” Crowley said.

“Sire, if they convince Y/N to remove the mark, if there’s even a way to do so, it will ruin all of our chances of rising up from this slump you’ve been working so hard to bring us from.”

“We could recreate the Knights of Hell… she would be the general of my army. We could reap so many souls as more demons the human’s contracts come to a close. Maybe even beyond.” Crowley agreed before he looked back at the scrawny demon.

“You keep tabs on the Winchesters, continue to keep tabs on their angel friend Castiel. You know how often they come to him when they’ve lost something like irresponsible children.” Crowley ordered.

“And what of Y/N, Your Majesty?”

“Leave her to me. She may need a visit from an old friend. It’s not easy being human after all and she may even want to come back to her roots - just for some clarity if nothing else.” Crowley said as he stood up.

When Crowley lifted up his hands, he snapped and within an instant, he was gone.

You found yourself roaming around the woods, still in Minnesota but you weren’t sure if you were in the same city or town anymore since you were pretty much avoiding all highways to avoid being seen any anyone. You supposed the one thing you could have said you missed about being a demon was the fact that transportation was a lot easier than traveling on foot.

Then you started thinking about the werewolf you killed last night, the feelings you had with it… was this how Dean felt when he went on his hunts?

Dean.

The very thought of him made the mark on your arm ignite all over agiain. The longer you were away from him, it seemed to get so much worse. Yet the first moment you became human and Dean was right there, it was like there was a sense of calm.

But you remembered it was you who made the ultimate decision to leave. And honestly you were starting to regret it, especially because deep down you knew you wanted to stay. But there was no way Dean would let you come back to the bunker right? Maybe not this soon. What if you made a mistake leaving?

Your mind went back to Dean again. You couldn’t believe he kissed you that night! Why was that such a bittersweet moment? And why did you feel so many things when it came down to that moment? Why didn’t you just stay?

Your mark started to burn again and you looked down at it. You knew you needed to help Sam and Dean. You told Sam to look into the Book of the Damned, and you would be on the lookout for it too. You needed to find where it was and soon so Dean wouldn’t have to go through baring this curse.

But what if you couldn’t find the book? What if thee really was no way out for this for Dean? What if there was no way out for him and he’d be miserable forever? And why were you beginning to feel like it was your fault when you weren’t even there when he accepted the mark from Cain in the first place?

“Ugh…” You groaned to yourself, frustrated with your own mind. You didn’t know humans could overthink so much, and you weren’t even sure if this amount of thinking was justified for anything!

Six weeks in and you were already finding out quickly what the human brain was like and how so many emotions could bubble up all at once, making you so unsure about so many things. And a part of you that had so much doubt about who you were and what you were trying to avoid, was even beginning to doubt your own abilities of finding the book that would even help Dean.

You understood that The Book of the Damned was cursed, about as cursed as your heirloom. You also knew it was sort of a legend at this point in time and a part of you wasn’t even sure if such a thing really existed anymore.

The truth was, you weren’t even sure where you should look. Maybe someone from Hell had it in their grasp once more, maybe a witch got a hold of it because there was a lot of dark magic involved with it. No one had seen or heard about it in centuries, maybe even millennia, so who knew where it could be found.

Your jaw tightened with the frustration you were feeling and you ran a hand through your hair.

You had your fun exploring, being a little nomad. You experienced human things during those six weeks, but now you knew that if were ever going to be useful to the Winchesters, you needed to buckle down. For Dean’s sake.

“Maybe I need to find a highway.” You muttered to yourself to no one in particular, specifically since no one was around.

Then, this sudden wave of nausea began to hit you. You asked over to one of the trees and placed a hand on it to try and steady yourself. Your mind started flooding right back to last knight when you had your first kill in weeks. You knew in that moment exactly what was happening to you.

Your mark wanted you to kill again. It was like it wanted, craved it more than life itself. Now that you were human, the feeling was physically beginning to overwhelm you. And this is the first time you were beginning to feel nauseated, but you knew it would only get worse. At least you weren’t at the point of withdrawals as you witnessed Dean go through before he became a demon. Though you knew that experience would be grotesque and hellish when you experienced it.

A part of being human, though, was learning how to resist. You had to fight back. Being around the Winchesters taught you that, so you needed to learn from them. You couldn’t kill anymore, even if the werewolf was a monster.

You were scared that one day it would be a human life you’d take. You didn’t want that on your shoulders, not when you were trying to be a new person, not when you were trying to escape the monster you were in the past.

You pushed yourself off the tree as you gathered your composure again and tried to return to your train of thought, one of many yes but you went to your main one before the nausea hit.

“Main road… Look for a way out of state… Buckle down on research for the-“

“Hello, Chipmunk.”

You could have recognized that accent anywhere and you turned around, glaring at Crowley after he called you that name.

“Didn’t I tell you not to call me that?” You said and Crowley simply shrugged, “What is it that you want now?”

“Just checking on an old friend.” Crowley said and you weren’t exactly convinced.

“Last time I checked were weren’t exactly on the friendliest terms.” You retorted and Crowley let out a low hum.

“Well, from my understanding, you aren’t exactly on the best of terms with the Winchesters. Heard you were human now and.. well I can definitely sense some sort of shift from you.” He said and you lifted a brow.

“I don’t need a wellness check, Crowley. Becoming a human was my choice and I left the bunker on my own accord.”

“And how’s the mark holding up? Either it’s beginning not to treat you so well or you’re starting to become one of those tree huggers seeing as you were practically clinging on that tree next to you.” He replied and you went silent for a moment.

“Now.. tell me why you became human. What on earth possessed you to do something like that?” He asked as he walked over with interest in his voice and you rolled your eyes.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was curious. After all, you and every other demon have been human once. I just wanted to experience it before I end up dying and going back to being a demon once more with this blasted thing.” You said and Crowley lifted a brow.

“So… you’re learning to resent your birthright?”

“More like resent this curse of an heirloom. But I’d rather it be me that bore it rather than anyone else. No one knows where Cain is ever since you and Dean blew his cover.” You said.

“I see.”

“Why are you really here, Crowley. I doubt you really want a status update on my human condition.” You said and put a hand on your hip, displaying your impatience.

“I just want to extend an offer. I know you originally went into hiding from Hell to avoid your mother dragging you back, wanting to escape everything and test. Out your father’s lifestyle. But should the situation arise that you need to return to Hell…Give me a call.” Crowley said and you became skeptical.

“What’s the catch?”

“None as of yet. But you should reconsider becoming the new leader of the Knights of Hell. I know you don’t want to be a killer for as long as you possibly can, but yo cannot deny what is in your blood. You’re talented, strategic, and Hell’s army needs someone like you to keep them in line.” Crowley reminded you and you glared.

“I refuse to take up that mantle. The Knights of Hell are all dead anyway.”

“No, but you could train up an army of your own. Turn even the weakest demons into the strongest soldiers under your training, they’d all be under your command and you’d have a place of power, second only to me.” Crowley said.

“Crowley, I think you’re failing to realize that I don’t crave power. I’m not like you, I don’t need to be in a position of leadership, and I never wanted it.” You stated and Crowley hummed a little.

“Again, it’s simply an offer. A place for you to go if you find yourself in a less than ideal situation. You know who you were meant to be deep down. That position will always be yours should you decide to claim it as you should.” Crowley said.

“The Winchesters wouldn’t be at all surprised if you claimed that role.”

You looked at him and stepped forward, brows narrowing, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. All I’m speculating is that if I were in their shoes and you were so new to being human, which you are, they wouldn’t be surprised if you slipped up one day. And from the looks of it, you’ve already given the mark a taste of what it craves most.” Crowley motioned to the blow on your clothes you couldn’t wash off.

“Let me handle that for you.” He insisted and with the snap of Crowley’s fingers, you looked down and saw your clothes were almost brand new, as if last night had never even occurred.

“They wouldn’t be so cruel as to make those kinds of assumptions.” You said, not wanting to believe Crowley, knowing his kind spoke practically nothing but lies most of the time.

“That’s what humans do, Y/N, Darling. They assume, they overthink, they judge prematurely. The human world is ugly. Why do you think demons prefer their new life after death? They become free from caring of others opinions and their assumptions of them. It’s easier to live without human insecurity.” He reminded you, and you supposed that was one part of your old life you missed.

“That’s my discovery to make, Crowley. And the day I become a demon again because of this mark, I’ll have learned all I needed to about being human. But until then, this is my life and my experiences. Let me learn them on my own terms.” You said and Crowley lifted his arms up in surrender.

“Very well. Just know that if you end up having enough of humans sooner than you think, you’ve got somewhere to go.” Crowley said and he started to walk off.

Then while Crowley was facing away from you, his eyes turned red as if her were getting in contact with his demons in Hell, “Monitor her. Give me frequent reports on both her and the Winchesters.”

Who knew…. Maybe either outcome could lead to his advantage. One must learn both sides in order to play the game properly after all.

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @chriszgirl92 @johannelis2302nely @justtrying2getby-blog @alternativeprincess94 @doctorlexilouwhosblog @deangirl96 @snowayumi @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

[xyziiix]

Got a gift for y’all demon Dean girlies

Posting this on here because it got 30 likes on tiktok, saw half my mutuals viewed it without liking it 😑😑

It’s okay I like u guys better ur real ones 🫶🏼

Tiktok: @ang31.cc

[aylacavebear]

Master List

A/N: 4/21/24 - Starting a new job, and in June, I will be picking my daughter up for the summer. I may not be able to stay on weekly uploads or write as much as I have been. I am also starting a new job. So, I will upload and write when I have the time. Thanks for understanding.

So far, I only do series, and I'm working on several. Bear with me while I get this setup, lol. I hope you guys enjoy reading these as much as I had writing them and rereading them. Most are a work in progress, and I'll post them when I can.

A/N: Will do my best to upload at least one chapter to each of the ones I'm currently working on, once a week per the date of the last upload from each one.

She Thought She Was Normal (Series) (Completed) Pairing is Dean Winchester x OC A/N: Smut in one chapter -----------------------------------------

Stockroom Antics (Series) (Completed) Pairing is Dean Winchester x OC

----------------------------------------- Dimensional Shift (Series) (Editing & Writing) Pairing is Dean Winchester x OC A/N: This one is basically the show with a twist, and it will start just before Dean comes back from hell. A/N: I have to put this one on hold. It needs more editing than I realized. -----------------------------------------

The Traveler (Series) (currently writing) Pairing is Dean Winchester x OC Reader & Sam Winchester x OC Reader. A/N: Make sure to get in on the fun here. Uploads on Sundays -----------------------------------------

Retribution (Series) (currently writing) Pairing is Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You A/N: Severely DARK. MAJOR TRIGGER WARNINGS Uploads on Wednesdays -----------------------------------------

[mishapocalyse]

Instill Inside Me—Fear

Demon!Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Language, bit o’ blood and gore, mentions of self harm, abuse. Demon Dean is a huge dick at this time.

Description: Dean breaks out of his restraints and torments you while Sam is away on a hunt. The two of you play a haunting game of hide and seek. Will he find you?

Reader discretion is advised. Enjoy.

Instills Inside Me-Hurt

Instills Inside Me- Lonliness

Instills Inside Me-Comfort

You had seen him, Dean, tied to a chair in the safe room below the bunker. You never dared going down there alone. Chalking it up to you being afraid to see what the older Winchester had become of himself.

You’d been studying in the commons area, with your several stacks of books surrounded you like a makeshift fort. Writing endlessly in the journals, making notes on the latest hunt you and Sam were working on.

There had been a den of vampires sighted in a nearby town couple miles outside Pasadena, California. Sam was on it with Castiel while you, sat here in the safety of the bunker, sending them research and conducting your own about a certain ball of demon joy a floor beneath you. Sam wanted as much information as possible on how to save Dean from the demon flowing through his veins. Yet, you didn’t know how much or if there was any.

There wasn’t.

The only thing about how to get Dean un-demoned was to pump him full of sanctified blood and hope for the best. You had written countless notes on the matter and were so in sync with your research that you were startled when you had seen that it was almost 10PM.

You yawned and stretched, pushing your books aside. You heaved a sigh-pushing in your chair as you headed for the kitchen to make you a cup of tea to help you sleep. You barely made it to the kitchen when the lights cut out. Everything then was enveloped in an antagonizing red glow.

Then the alarm began to blare throughout the bunker. It lasted a few seconds before that too was shut off by a loud crash, and your breath hitched. Either someone stupid was breaking in.

Or he had broken out.

You swallowed spit and forced yourself to move against the wall in an attempt to sneak off somewhere and hide. You wouldn’t be caught out in the open, surely not by Dean.

Especially not Dean, you corrected yourself. You managed to slip up the steps into the upstairs hallway when you heard Dean most likely kick through one of the downstairs doors.

You stifled a scream, pressing your back against the wall again keeping quiet while you found yourself slipping into a vacant room and under the bed.

“I know you’re here you little bitch, could practically hear your boots fucking shaking above me. Come out now and I promise I'll be gentle with you. Make it quick, y'know." He hollered.

You did not make a peep while you huddled beneath the bed of the many rooms on the second floor. The way you quickly learned how to limit your breathing made it easier for you to hide. Sam had even taught you in his free time how to sneak around without making a sound.

Of course, you knew that if Dean did find you--it would be much worse than what any monster you have hunted in the past. This was not the older Winchester you worked with just a couple months ago. Whatever was inhabiting his body now, the demon inside him, made his aggressive, made him lash out against the people who love him, and made him have this terrifyingly strong urge to kill anything and everything in his path.

Covering your mouth with your hands your eyes widened when his shadow went past the door.

"I'm not playing this game with you Y/N. When I find you and oh boy, I will. I'll carve out your fucking innards and hang your skull on my mantle." He growls, kicking through what sounded like Sam's bedroom a few doors down. You heard him grunt when he didn't find anything. His footsteps retreated to the room across from Sam's.

SLAM. SLAM.SLAM.

He was in. Another grunt and groan, he was off to the room next to the one you were in. You had to act fast as he broke his way through the door. You slipped out from your hiding spot as he was having trouble with the door in front of the one you were in.

This was not where you wanted to be. You could hear him cursing as you open the door ajar, wide enough to wear you could slip through. He slammed through the door and went inside as you took off down the hall.

"Where the fuck are you?" He screamed, throwing over the bed.

---A Few Hours Later---

You were inside a closet, tucked away where you knew he wouldn't find you. Or so you hoped. Hidden behind the water heater, you pulled out your phone, beginning to tap away at the screen to Sam.

S.O.S Dean's got out and he's looking for me.

You hit send and tucked the phone back into your back pocket. You leaned your head back against the wall and prayed. Oh, how you prayed that Sam would get home soon. You prayed to Castiel to hear you and appear out of thin air to save you. Dean, as much as you could hear from where you were had been pacing, throwing objects around and yelling.

"You think you're so fucking smart huh? You little bitch. Do you think that I wanna kill you? I've seen the shit that goes on in my head. I can watch and witness all those fucking memories of finding you a bloody heap on the floor. I have. I've seen them all. All the times I would stumble in a catch you slitting your fucking wrists like the weak little girl you are. I would have to clean you, set you straight, make sure you're all fixed up. What about me? When have you ever done that for me? You selfish little whore." Your hands covered your mouth as you stuffed down the urge to cry. You knew he didn't mean it. It was the demon that he was brought back as.

"My head isn't the only I've been through. You think anyone around you loves you? Sam...Castiel...me? Bobby could give a less of a shit about you. Hell, they all wanted you gone after Charlie died. Yeah they blamed you. It should have been you. " You hitched a breath, holding yourself. Which was a stupid move as he probably knew where you were.

The wall you were leaning against successfully had aa hole punched through as you raced to get up and out the door, you tried to run but you tripped over a stack of books that was strewn across the floor.

Dean stomped towards you, grabbing your foot to slam you into the ground. You writhed around in his hold, managing to kick him the jaw. You got back up onto your feet, only for him to lunge at you.

Overturning the nearby table, you shoved it in his direction. The tears would not stop as you tried reasoning with the man in front of you.

"You don't meant that Dean. Look we can figure out some way to save you. Please don't hurt me." You plead, hands raised as he draws closer to you.

Your heart was going to beat out of your chest, when he comes closer and closer and closer to you. With your hands still raised, the sensation of his rough, gnarled, and calloused hands grasping onto yours, pulling you to him.

The fear you felt as your could not hear his own heart beating, you were face first in his chest, his mouth to your ear, as he whispered something so low, you could barely make it out.

"I'm sorry."

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 999

Gif NOT mine.

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - @donzelayaya (Unless told otherwise.)

Year posted - 2022

[woman-of-balnain]

In Progress/Future/Potential Fics

This is more for my own reference than anything. Just to keep track of the fics I’m planning to write. I don't include posting dates anymore, as my schedule is more unreliable now, but this list is in the order I plan to write things.

Masterlist

Key:

😈 - Smutty Thoughts

🔥 - Strictly Foreplay or Not Really Full-Blown Smut

💦  - Smut

💥 - Arguing Between the Pairing

💔 - Angst

💕 - Fluff

❤️‍🩹 - Hurt/Comfort

🐺 - A/B/O Dynamics

⚔️ - Historical AU

In Progress:

1. Corruption (Request): part 2 & 3 🐺💦

The Walking Dead - NOT related to 'the Claim' - a sheltered omega reader with no real knowledge about presentations, heat/rut cycles etc.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem!Reader.

Future Fics:

1. Arthur Request 💦

Red Dead Redemption - Arthur fingering the Reader with his leather gloves on.

2. Arthur Request 💦

Red Dead Redemption - High Honor Arthur with a shy, virgin Reader

3. Coveted (Multi-Part Series) 🐺💔💦

The Walking Dead - You and Rick have an agreement to help each other through your respective heats and ruts. It’s never been anything more than that, despite how much you wished for the opposite. After arriving in Alexandria, Rick decides that it's time your arrangement comes to an end and you reluctantly try to move on from the feelings you've developed for him. Nevertheless, jealousy ends up getting the better of you.

Sequel to Corruption.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem!Reader.

4. Heat 🐺💦

The Walking Dead - Daryl has always had his own subtle way of helping you in the buildup to your heats. Turning a blind eye when one of his shirts goes missing, letting you scent him in private moments away from the others… but after the loss of the prison, your heat hits again while you’re on the road and Daryl has to take a more hands-on approach to help you this time.

Alpha Daryl Dixon/Omega Fem!Reader - *you essentially replace Beth in the period after the group loses the prison.

5. Nattstemning 💦

The Walking Dead - When the group arrives in Alexandria, it's revealed that there aren't enough beds for you all to get your own, so some of you have to share. You get paired with Rick and his hands tend to wander in his sleep. My first attempt at the ‘there’s only one bed’ trope.

Rick Grimes/Fem!Reader.

6. The Devil in Me (Multi-Part Series) 🐺💦💔

Supernatural - Dean gave up on finding his true mate a long time ago. Considering the life he leads, he always thought it was better that way. It must be another one of life’s sick jokes that when he finally found you, it was while he bore the mark of Cain and right before he dies and comes back as a demon.

Demon!Dean/Deanmon, Mark of Cain Dean, Alpha Dean, Omega Reader, Female Reader.

7. The Claim (Rewrite) 🐺💦

The Walking Dead - A rewrite of the original that I intend to also make longer, with better pacing.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem!Reader.

8. Undone in Sorrow (Rewrite) 🐺💔

The Walking Dead - A rewrite of the original that I intend to have better pacing and an improved plot.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem!Reader.

9. Endzeitfragmente Part 3 (Untitled; Multi-Part Series) 🐺💦💔

The Walking Dead - Sequel to the Claim and Undone in Sorrow, that I intend to be much more of an AU following the events of All Out War and to conclude Rick and the Reader's story. Still in very early stages of plotting it out, but I plan for it to be a big deviation from the show after s8's events.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem! Reader.

10. Untitled Moon Knight Fic (Multi-Part Series) ⚔️💕❤️‍🩹💦💔

Moon Knight - Historical AU where you are the daughter of the King, who decides to marry you off to the mysterious Marc Spector who is keeping more secrets than you ever could have imagined. Arranged marriage; no MCU powers; takes inspiration from Henry VIII's reign and court; includes all three moon boys.

Marc Spector/Fem!Reader, Steven Grant/Fem!Reader, Jake Lockley/Fem!Reader.

Potential Fics:

These are fic ideas I've had that aren't high on my list in terms of priority and that I haven't seriously committed to writing. If any stick out to you, feel free to let me know that you're interested as it may make me more inspired to write them.

1. Shelter for My Soul 💕💔

Red Dead Redemption - In his final days, Arthur finds the time to slip away from camp and visit his family. As he takes it all in for the last time, he remembers the times you’ve all spent together.

Arthur/Fem!Reader - *You and Arthur are married and have children (but you have your own home and don’t live with the gang).

2. A Fine Night of Concealed Debauchery 💦

Red Dead Redemption - While the gang throws a party, a slightly drunk Arthur is playing poker and pulls you onto his lap. It isn't long before his hands start wandering under the table, making him quickly lose focus on the game.

Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader.

3. Dominance, Submission 🐺💦

The Walking Dead - You act recklessly (yet again), causing Rick to force you into submission and teach you a lesson. Light bdsm, set in the early prison era. A light sequel to ‘the Claim’ that can be read independently of it.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem!Reader.

[violentdelightsproductions]

All the good girls go to Hell. Some even choose to.

There's definitely something wrong with Dean ever since he was turned into a demon by the Mark. And even though Ellie is aware of it, she decides to stick around and go along for the ride. Of course human and demon relationships don't come without a whole set of complications and ignored warnings. Inspired by Jennifer's Body.

Find our Halloween videos and edits here!

Find our Dean x Ellie videos here

Ellie Spencer is an original character character created by @girlshunttoo - Faceclaim Deborah Ann Woll Check us out on ddriverpicksthemusic / girlshunttoo on Tumblr ♥

[lila-lou]

✨Beyond saving - Pt. 2✨

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

This is part 3 of "Beyond saving".

Pairing: Dean x Reader

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

Word Count: 5518

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Dean, you need to forgive yourself first".

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————————

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

-

Part 3

[holylulusworld]

Christmas with a demon (2)

Summary: Dean won’t let you go. Never.

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of kidnapping, a hint of fluff, kidnapping, Dean being a horny bastard, banter

Catch up here: Christmas with a demon

Your demonic boyfriend, his brother, and you.

Sounds like a bad joke, but it’s your reality. Sam is still restrained to a chair, and your boyfriend’s eyes are still black.

A Christmas tree and festive music won’t make all the wrongs right.

“Dean, what did you do this time?” You sigh deeply. Sam wiggles on the chair and struggles to call your name. Dean stuffed an old sock in his brother’s mouth to keep him from making noise. “You can’t just kidnap Sammy!”

“You wanted to celebrate Christmas with Sammy. Here he is,” Dean points out. “You didn’t clarify that I’m not allowed to kidnap my brother.” The demon shrugs and turns his attention toward the tree. “I got you a tree too!”

“Dean,” again, you sigh. “Can I at least free Sammy from the gag?” You don’t wait for Dean to answer. You free Sammy off the sock in his mouth. “I’m so sorry, Sam. Dean got it all wrong. I wanted to celebrate Christmas with you and Dean but not like this.”

“Sammy didn’t want to come on free terms,” Dean argues as he grabs one of the gifts under the tree. “Let’s forget about how we got together today. We should open Christmas gifts instead of fighting over unimportant details.”

“DEAN! You restrained your brother to a chair and wrapped him in a ribbon,” you groan as Dean doesn’t realize he can’t run around and kidnap people or steal Christmas trees.

“What? I wrapped him in a ribbon because he’s a gift. A huge and ugly gift but you wanted him around.”

Sam rolls his eyes at his brother’s words. “Y/N, can I have some water? I taste old socks,” Sam grunts. “You could’ve used duct tape.” He complains and glares at his brother.

“Sammy!” Just now you see his left arm is in a sling. “Did he hurt you too?” You snap your head toward Dean. “Dean?!”

“Hey, that’s not my fault. He got his ass whooped by someone else than me. I only grabbed his clumsy ass and wrapped him in a ribbon.”

“You knocked me out, Dean,” Sam grunts. “That’s what happened.” 

Dean shrugs. “You argued and I didn’t have the patience to wait for you to come to your senses. I had to get you here to give my girl what she wants.”

“I’m not a gift!”

If not for the fact that Dean is a demon and kidnapped his brother, you’d like to laugh about their banter.

“Dean, if you want me to celebrate Christmas with you, free Sam. He can’t sit on the chair for so long. And I should check on his shoulder.”

“If he tries anything…” Dean’s eyes flash black. A silent warning for Sam to not try anything. You’re not stupid. Dean is still a demon, and you won’t underestimate his demonic side. 

“He won’t,” you softly say. “Right, Sam. You won’t try anything.”

“No,” Sam agrees. He can’t put you in danger. On his hunt to find his brother, he crossed one too many lines. But he won’t get you hurt too. “I’ll behave.”

“Good.” Dean claps his hands. “Sweetheart, you can free Sam. We will unpack the gifts and then, we’ll have breakfast for champions. Burger and beer.”

You roll your eyes. There is still a tiny part of your Dean inside the demon fighting for control. “I pass.”

“No beer for Y/N then,” Dean smirks. “More for me.”

“Uh-that’s nice,” you try to hide your embarrassment. Dean gifted a pair of red stockings to you, along with the matching panties and bra. 

“Hmm…I can’t wait to see you in it,” he grins and looks you up and down. “Your ass will look cute in these. A pity they won’t live for long. I’ll rip them off your body with my teeth.”

Sam groans. “Can you not say things like that in front of me? Do you have no filter?”

“What do you expect, Sam? I’m a demon,” Dean snickers. He snatches the panties out of your hands to sniff at the fabric. “I want you to wear these for me. They must smell like your pussy.”

“DEAN!” Sam snaps at his brother. “I know you are a demon, but can you just stop? This is embarrassing to Y/N.”

“What? I love her pussy,” Dean murmurs and sniffs at the fabric again. “Nothing wrong with loving her sweet cunt. You should see her stuffed with my cock.”

“That is enough,” you huff and slam your fist onto the table, making Sam flinch. “This is not the Christmas I wished for. I wanted a tree, and a fake fireplace in the bunker. I wanted to cuddle with my boyfriend and gift silly things to his brother. I wanted hot cocoa and delicious food.”

“What about sex?”

“Yes, I wanted to make sweet love to the man I love. But…but that man is dead. He got replaced by a selfish and morally questionable demon. This man has no filter, and he doesn’t care if he hurts me, his brother, or anyone else as long as he gets his dick wet, and no one wants him to feel responsible for his actions.”

You take a deep breath and start yelling. 

“Whoa, sweetheart! I did not hurt you or Sam! I got him here for you,” Dean pouts. “I tried to give you the perfect Christmas you wished for. I even got marshmallows so we can roast them later.”

“He tried, Y/N,” Sam tries to calm you. “I mean…he got me here to celebrate Christmas with you. That wasn’t selfish.” 

“What?” You look at Sam as if he grew a second head. “You can’t be serious, Sam. He kidnapped you and…and…”

“Dean didn’t hurt me.”

“Now you are on his side?” You cock your head. “Seriously, Sammy? I thought we were in this together.”

“Dean is not ready for the cure. Maybe we need to give him more time,” Sam softly says. “How about we bring Y/N to the bunker? We can celebrate Christmas together and you decide if you want to stay like this or become the man she loves again.”

“No tricks?” Dean watches you clasp your hands together. You gasp and nod eagerly. “Sweetheart, is that what you want?”

You nod.

“Hmm…" he looks at the panties in his hands. “Only if you promise to wear these for me.” Dean flashes you a dirty smirk. “All of it.”

“Please stop talking about this in front of me,” Sam complains again. “It was so peaceful at the bunker without your horny ass.”

“Aw, Sammy,” Dean chuckles. “You’ll get used to having my sweet bunny around again. She will hop and squeal for me. You know, she loves my big carrot…”

“Why did I want to get you back again?” Sam asks.

“You are bored to death without me,” Dean retorts.

You grin while watching the brothers make bad jokes. They call each other bitch and jerk.

Hope blooms in your chest. If you get Dean inside the bunker, you can try to cure him.

[inagetawaycarxo]

DEMON!DEAN MASTER LIST

🌹=fluff  💔=angst 🥵= smut

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ~

IMPORTANT AUTHORS NOTE: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY STORIES TO BE REPOSTED/TWEAKED ON PLATFORMS OR SITES WITH/WITHOUT CREDIT.

HOWEVER REBLOGS, COMMENTS, LIKES ETC ARE WELCOME BUT COPYING AND PASTING MY WORK ISN’T!

Back In Black  🌹 💔 💦 - y/n and Sam are on the hunt to find dean and cure him. Little does Sam know (y/n) is addicted to demon blood. Y/n finds dean before Sam does.

Deadly Obsession {Guardian!Angel!Reader} 💔-Demon!Dean’s obsession with the Angel!Reader becomes deadly when he kills the human, she is protecting.

HEADCANONS/PREFERENCES;

NSFW ALPHABET w/ Demon!Dean 

MOODBOARDS + AESTHETICS:

Demon!Dean

[daughterofcain-67]

𝕽𝖆𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉 (𝔭𝔱7)

(Dean Winchester x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Dean has now become a demon and he’s convinced you to travel with Crowley and himself. Afterwards, you and Crowley notice the changes Dean is going through and Crowley convinces you to try and persuade Dean to try and be a little less cocky with his killing sprees and tone things down a bit. How far are you willing to go with Dean and his downward spiral into his newfound demonic nature?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: implied smut, no graphic detail, intimate negotiations, Dean and the reader killing a demon… I think that’s it? This chapter’s a little shorter than the last couple of chapters.

You were back in Cincinnati where this story began for you. Your clients at your little tattoo shop wondered where you had been all this time and you simply said you needed a short hiatus. Of course you couldn’t tell them the truth with this sort of thing. How could you? What kind of a normal human in their right mind would believe you when you say you had been helping two monster hunters in an angelic war?

Yet you were still replaying the events of two days ago in your head.

Dean Winchester’s death affected you more than you thought that it would. It was ridiculous, honestly, especially since you were still hurt by the idea of the Winchesters using you and tossing you aside so easily one day like they did to Crowley. You hated that you were even feeling the way that you did.

In order to distract yourself from your thoughts of your previous adventure, you went right back to work. You were drowning yourself in client’s designs and other tattoos or piercings. Your work was enough to keep you occupied at least for the time being.

You were sitting in your chair while you were working on a tattoo on someone’s back. The lady in front of her had asked for different colored dragons along with different jewels of the birth months for the loved ones that had passed on. You were focusing on the delicate details as much as you could while you listened to the music in your building.

“Y/N? Can I ask you something?” Your client asked, causing you to hum and thus giving her a signal to ask.

“How come you never really talk about yourself with your clients? Like obviously there’s more to you than meets the eye. But what is your family like? Do you have any loved ones that live here? Do you have a boyfriend or some sort of significant other?”

You were a little shocked by the client’s inquiry but you supposed it gives you something to talk about to kill some time, “I don’t really talk much about family because we aren’t exactly close… My mom died several years ago but we both hated each other and I never met my father.”

“Wow… that really stinks to hear. I’m sorry. What about siblings or even lovers?”

“Neither one. I don’t have brothers or sisters and… I guess over the years no one’s caught my interest. Never wanted to look because I hear too much about people’s heart breaking over something going wrong.” You admitted.

Then you recalled the way you felt when Dean betrayed Crowley. After that your mind went to Dean’s death and Sam’s reaction. You remembered realizing just how strong humans are, and in a way you admired them. But still, you didn’t need that type of attachment, nor the sentiment.

“I’ve seen what love does to people… and I’ve seen what happens when someone you love dies. It’s not worth the attachment.”

Your answer, though seemingly logical to you, was almost unsatisfactory for the lady in front of you.

“Well that’s a pessimistic point of view, isn’t it? Sure people’s hearts break but after those heart breaks there are lessons learned. Those lessons make you stronger. It’s better to love eve with the risk of getting hurt or losing someone. Feelings aren’t a thing to be fearful of. They’re what make you human, they make you appreciate life no matter the ups and downs.”

You stopped what you were doing and listened to each word your client said. You hadn’t expected to hear some sort of lecture on emotion on someone who’s supposed to act as a canvas.

When you were finally done with the client’s tattoo, she paid you and walked out of the door. The next thing you knew it was closing time and you were still thinking about the conversation with her. Maybe she was right… Maybe caring wasn’t so bad. The Winchesters taught you a lot about humanity and you could see why even Castiel appreciated life.

The adventure you were on is in your past, though. The Winchester brothers surely wouldn’t come looking for a demon. Even if they did, you weren’t sure you’d go with them.

But the moments where Dean actually smiled at you, gave you that sense of peace, making you forget about the eternal pain of what you were cursed with.. those moments stuck with you even if they were only a handful of moments.

Then you remembered the vision with your mother. What if you were becoming weak after all? You were learning to appreciate everything and yet those murderous urges were still there. You couldn’t help that. But what would happen if you chose to be human after all? Was an option like that even possible for you? And would you go to the bunker?

You shook those ideas from your head. That had to be the stupidest idea you’d ever come up with… being human to be with the Winchesters again. Even if you decided to be human, they would never take you.

While you were cleaning up your shop, you heard the door open. You must’ve forgotten to lock the door, so when you turned to see who was entering your shop you were shocked to see who was there.

“Dean?”

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

The next thing you knew, Dean had his hand on your hip and he pulled you closer, taking you by surprise. Was Dean always some kind of ladies man - or acted like it? That was something Sam hadn’t told you about when you met the boys. But that was when you realized there was something off about him.

“You’ve changed….”

Then you watched him begin to smirk before you saw the way his eyes turned black, realizing that the mark finally changed him to what it wanted him to be. “You like the new me? I think it’s starting to grow on me a bit.”

He certainly had changed, He wasn’t the same Dean that you had been thinking of earlier that day when your client was giving you that pep talk. You knew the mark wouldn’t let Dean die, you knew that inevitably he would become a demon, but you didn’t know that it would happen this fast.

“What are you doing here, anyway? I told you not to look for me, remember? Just because you’re a demon doesn’t mean I wanted to see you again.” You said, pulling away and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well, I’ve got a bit of a proposition for you.” Dean said, then he pulled out The First Blade.

“Where did you get that? I left it behind after your fight…”

“Crowley retrieved it and brought it back to me.” He spoke, “Now, about that proposition…”

“I’m listening?”

“Come with me. I left Sam at the bunker and told him not to look for me. He’d hold me back from all the fun stuff we could do. We could live care free, no regrets and nothing to hold us back from doing whatever we want to do.” He said as he took your hand and he handed you the blade.

Once you felt the blade again you remembered how good it felt to stab Metatron even if he hadn’t died. All of those things Sam and Dean taught you were nice and all, but you remembered the warning from your mother. When you were learning about humanity, maybe you were forgetting what you were meant to be. Now that Dean was a demon too, what would be so wrong with killing together?

You were conflicted, did you want to hold on to the lessons you’ve learned from the Winchesters or throw all of it away and forget about it?

You looked down at the blade and you could feel Dean’s gaze on you as if waiting for an answer, “How do I know you won’t just use me like you did Crowley when you were human?”

“Is that what’s holding you back? Please, that was just something I had to say to get Sam off my back to let me use the blade. Do you really think it matters how it’s done?” He asked you and you sighed for a moment before looking up at the taller demon again.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

Three months have gone by since Dean found you in your tattoo parlor. Obviously you had to shut down since you wouldn’t be there and you didn’t have an apprentice or anything to take over.

Needless to say, you had succumbed to your demonic nature and embraced your past but only to a certain extent. You killed but you didn’t feel quite as ruthless as you thought you would feel. It was a mixture really. It was like you were on an emotional fence ever since you left with the other two demons.

You both, much to your dismay and irritation, were traipsing around with Crowley. The King of Hell seemed to like calling your little group the Three Musketeers from Hell. It had a nice ring to it even if you did hate the man’s guts.

The three of you had been dodging and even killing Abaddon’s demons when they came after Crowley and Dean. If not that, you three were in bars, you would watch the other two demons play pool with humans for money, goose ball, they had the time of their lives and you could tell Crowley was having a ball having a Winchester by his side.

You were watching Dean in one of the many bars you two had gone to over the span of these few months. He was singing karaoke and you were finding out with a quickness that Dean wasn’t very good at it when he was drunk. If he wasn’t singing to make a human’s ears bleed, you he typically slept with as many girls as he wanted to.

He clearly wasn’t joking when he said he wouldn’t be held back.

Typically, however, whenever Dean was done slumming it with some slutty blonde in a skin tight dress you would take the opportunity to get your fill of the first blade. Naturally Dean wouldn’t know too much about your own fun you had with the humans. You knew he wouldn’t care if you killed them or not, he just didn’t really have enough interest to ask so you had some fun of your own.

And it was delightfully therapeutic to take out your frustrations of your internal struggles on these humans.

“What’s got you all lost in thought, Chipmunk?” Crowley asked you, causing you to turn towards him.

“When did you get- oh why do I even ask?” You rolled your eyes and watched as Dean was being escorted off the stage and he made his way back to the bar.

“Wait - since when do you call me Chipmunk?”

“Eh, it was similar enough to the squirrel. You’re close enough to Dean. Might as well give it a shot.”

“Okay well I’ll cut out your tongue if you call me that again.” You said, causing Crowley to put his hands up in defense.

“Alright, alright. Point taken.” He said, “Just wanted to talk about these recent developments with Dean.”

You lifted a brow as you took a sip of some beer that you’d been drinking that night while the other demon spoke, “You aren’t the only one that thinks he’s taking things a bit far with his carelessness. We need to find a way to harness it.”

“We? Oh no, you were the one that got him into this mess in the first place. So you get to be the one that finds a way to harness it.”

“You know he won’t listen to reason. The only one he’d listen to is most likely you. Especially since you two have some kind of chemistry. Maybe if he doesn’t score with one of the locals tonight, you could use your… feminine charms.”

“What makes you think that I’d even be willing to use those certain charms you’re suggesting?” You asked and Crowley motioned to Dean who was already starting to get himself into trouble with security. He was already getting into a fight and they had to call more than one security guard to assist.

“Because he seems to respond more with action than words.” He answered.

“And what exactly are you wanting me to tell him or persuade him to do?”

“Tell him he’d get a lot more satisfaction working with me instead of slumming it in these bars. I’ll give you both more details if he’s willing to comply.” He continued as he buttoned up his jacket, preparing to leave.

“I know you’ve been putting on more of an act to pretend you’re, what the Winchesters say, full metal demon. But I know you’ve changed ever since your first encounter with the Winchesters. You may be one hell of a murderer but you’re a lousy liar. You’re more like your father than your mother.” He said and he looked down at you.

“Don’t take that as weakness. Your father, even though he is the Father of Murder and the king of his trade, he still cared and he even got married because he loved. Feelings, because you know what they are like, can be used to manipulate others. How do you think demons have been able to manipulate the Winchesters over all these years? It’s through the love they have for their brothers and adopted family members.”

You listened carefully, taking each word and you recalled the conversation with the last client you ever had before Dean came to your shop. You had learned a lot from the boys, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to learn about what more of those feelings are like.

“Is it wrong to worry about Dean?” You asked and both of you watched the former hunter walking out of the bar.

“I wouldn’t say that it’s wrong. I even worry about him from time to time. Especially since he’s no longer the Squirrel I know. He’s more brazen, reckless, and he makes a hell of a mess for me to try and clean up.” He said and you let out a slight chuckle.

“Yeah, rookie demons are always so messy aren’t they?”

“That’s why I’m.. sharpening him up so to speak. So he can work on those skills of his before he gets himself killed, or turn into a full demon. He’s only half at the moment.” He said and you looked at him.

“Wait… Abaddon’s demons… you sent them?”

“Lower your voice, will you? I haven’t broken the news yet but I will eventually. It’s a means for our professional future you know.”

“Professional future?”

“Of course! I have a kingdom to run, you know. I can’t go partying around here forever. And having Dean by my side may prove to be beneficial. And the offer is extended to you as well, given you’d like the job offer.”

You scoffed for a moment, “You both just have a thing for double crossing each other, don’t you?”

“Hey, it’s sort of in my job description. You can’t expect me to be on the straight and narrow all the time.”

You chose not to respond, and you weren’t even sure if you wanted to know exactly what his plans were for this ‘professional future’ he was talking about. You didn’t really feel like asking about it either, not at the moment but you knew you had to keep this a secret from Dean, otherwise who knew how he would take it.

You and Crowley walked out of the bar to keep an eye on Dean. You started to wonder about something, “You used to be doped up on human blood, right?”

“Yes, although it clearly wasn’t my finest hour. Regrettably I think it was the lowest point of my long lasted lifetime.”

“I heard about that. Abaddon almost got the best of you then, huh?” You saw the discomfort on his face when he remembered that time but you continued anyway, “Could… could you tell me about what that was like? How much did it change you?”

“Why are you asking?”

“It’s just… I had this vision. My mother was in it and there was a human version of myself. I traded my life to save Dean’s or at least attempt to. And in the vision, my mother said that caring for anyone, especially a Winchester, would be the equivalent to some kind of torture.” You began.

“But ever since I saw the way Sam mourned for Dean when he initially died, I realized that humans… they have to be strong to deal with something like death, right? I mean, given that they aren’t hunters and constantly raise people from the dead on a regular basis.” Crowley looked at you with interest and he hummed a little.

“Well, I can admire some humans for their strength. As for what changes you can feel, well… You definitely start feeling those uncomfortable emotions like regret, maybe even worry, etc. Then there are other emotions that aren’t so bad. I’ll let you discover those on your own.” He told you.

“Now, I’ll leave you to it. Remember, we want to get Dean to harness his recklessness. Try to convince him somehow if you won’t stand in for one of the hookers he goes to the hotel with.”

The next thing you knew, he disappeared and you sighed. You honestly hated when he did that but oh well. You walked out of the bar and Dean pulled up with the Impala.

“Come on, let’s get out of this dump town already.” Dean said in his usual grumpy little grumble he had when he didn’t get his way.

“I swear, you’re just like a child. Maybe you shouldn’t even drive.”

“I can drive just fine. I can hold my liquor better than all those people in that bar.”

You just roll your eyes and got into the vehicle and stayed quiet while he drove off. Maybe Crowley was right too, maybe it wasn’t wrong to worry. You even wondered if you should call Sam.

Several hours went by and you were in Montana now from whatever state you were at before. It was still dark out since it was the early hours of the morning but you were able to make it into the hotel. You both shared a room but you groaned a little when you realized you were stuck with one bed instead of two like normal, but you tossed your little backpack and wallet to the side.

You heard a plop on the mattress followed by Dean’s groan. You supposed being in a car for so long was a bit draining even for him.

“It’s a shame there aren’t any bars open right now.” Dean said.

“There aren’t many people in the world that want to be drinking at three in the morning you know.” You said as you sat down on the bed next to him.

You could feel more movement on the mattress and you felt Dean’s presence next to you, “Yeah I guess that’s true. Everyone else is either sleeping off the booze or having their own fun.”

You felt his arm snake around your waist, causing your insides to churn. Surely the human Dean didn’t want to become something like this. Something wasn’t right but you remembered what Crowley asked you to do.

“Speaking of having our own fun…” You began as you shifted on the bed to face him better. He lifted a brow as he looked at you, “You’re being a little reckless, aren’t you?”

“Reckless, huh? How’s that?”

“Well, you’re just a little new at this demon thing and I was just thinking that maybe Crowley and I could show you how to make things… a little more clean.” You said.

“Awe, Sweetheart, you know being neat doesn’t matter that much, and it doesn’t matter how reckless I am. Did that bastard Crowley put you up to this?”

You bit down on the inside of your cheek as you tried to think. Maybe Crowley was right yet again, and you were starting to hate how he seemed to be right about some things lately, but maybe Dean really wouldn’t listen if you just talked to him. And with the way he still had a hand on you, maybe being physical would be the only way to get through to him after all.

You had to admit, you could see why some girls at the bar found him so appealing. You weren’t sure if this would be a good idea. You had no clue if there was any way that Dean would be okay with this if he was human. But if this was the way to get through to him, then maybe it was worth a shot.

You moved to where you were straddling Dean’s lap and you placed a hand on his shoulder, “Does it matter who says it? Remember, I know how that mark feels. And I know how exhilarating it is to do whatever the hell you want.” Then you carefully let your hand down before letting your fingertips graze his own mark.

You lifted his arm up and placed a kiss on his mark, then you could feel him start to lose some of the tension as he watched you before you spoke again, “On the flip side, there’s a right and a wrong way to do things so you won’t get yourself in trouble with whatever hunters come your way.”

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about my tactics. There’s nothing wrong and you know that.” Dean said as he had his free hand on your hip before scooting you up more. But then you felt his touch on your own mark. But this time was different from all of the others. It felt good when he touched it. Maybe it was because he was a demon now too. Anyway you were trying not to get distracted.

“Well, I know that Abaddon’s demons are still after you because you killed her. And personally, I love killing them with you. Kind of rejuvenating.” You said as you leaned in before you started planting kisses on his neck.

“But with you being reckless in places like gas stations or with security cameras..” You said before you held his hand, “You’ll have human Feds on you along with other demons or hunters. We can’t have that, otherwise it’ll ruin the fun of this little adventure, won’t it?”

Dean intertwined your fingers, relaxing as he felt your lips along his neck and jawline, “You really like this so called adventure, huh?” He chuckled deeply.

“I do, and that’s why we can’t let you get caught so easily.” You reminded but then you felt Dean flip you over to where you were on your back.

You could feel your heart racing as you gazed up into those gorgeous eyes of his. You nibbled on your lower lip as he took the arm with the mark and placed it beside your head while his other hand was on your hip, gradually finding its way beneath your shirt. The feeling of his fingertips touching your skin was growing more exciting, yet so wrong in so many ways.

“You’re holding something back…” Dean said and you lifted a brow.

“Am I that easy for you to read?”

“Let your desires win for tonight, Doll. The mixture between feeling right and wrong? I’ve been there. Why don’t we use tonight so you can explore that feeling.” He said and his large hand went down to your thigh, guiding it so your leg would make its way around his waist and he’d have access to your covered core.

“How did you know I had mixed feelings?”

“Because you don’t know how much human is left in me. You don’t know if the human me would be in bed with a demon. Newsflash, Doll… I’m really starting to like this little condition of mine. No regrets. So there’s nothing for you to overthink about.” He said as he dipped his head down into the crook of your neck before planting hot kisses on your skin.

“We’ve killed and tortured demons together… we’ve been traveling the road and raising hell together… why don’t we try a new aspect of this adventure you love so much and then I’ll think about toning down that recklessness you’re so worried about.”

You moved away so Dean would get off your neck and you looked up at him. You could tell that there was very little humanity left in him. If you did this, there would be no strings attached on his end after all.

“So this is the way we’re negotiating?” You asked with a chuckle and Dean smirked.

“I get the feeling you had an agenda wether we have sex or not. But I gotta tell ya… I may be open to listen if this is where it’ll go. Besides, getting you laid might help you lose some of that worry you’ve got over nothing.”

A negotiation… that’s all this would ever be for either of you.

You bit your lip before you reached up and pulled him down by the back of his neck, your lips collided as you closed your eyes. His lips tasted of cinnamon, whisky, and some cherry pie he must’ve consumed sometime that day at the bar. You could smell the alcohol and smoke from the bar but you didn’t care. You felt him nibble on your bottom lip, causing a heat rise to your cheeks. Just how experienced was he with this kind of thing?

The kiss continued to grow more heated and hungry as the two of you discarded your clothes and proceeded to explore one another in ways even you never thought imaginable…

Dean was sitting at the bar, drinking yet again after a bar fight. His knuckles were still a little bloody but he didn’t care. He could feel the stares from the patrons inside but it didn’t matter. He did what he had to do. Some random guy was being a dick to a lady and he had to defend her honor. Maybe it was a little more violent than it should have been but who cares.

He couldn’t ignore the stares of a certain demon that was there, it wasn’t you and it wasn’t Crowley.

However, he was meeting with Crowley and he just found out some news.

“You mean to tell me, you’ve been sending demons to kill me?” He asked, brows narrowing as he shifted in his seat to face the King of Hell.

“To make you sharp. If it weren’t for me sending the demon chum your way you would have been killed. The mark needs to be sustained and you need to get better at using it, otherwise..”

“Otherwise I turn into a full demon, yeah I get it. I got that six weeks ago. You lied, Crowley.” Dean said before taking a sip of his beer before he stood up.

“Who do you think you’re talking to, I’m not a saint so of course I lied.” Crowley said, “Now sit down, will you?” Dean just gave him a look, almost one of defiance as he continued to stand.

“Alright, I needed to keep you sharp for our future, of which we need to talk about.”

“Our future? Really?”

“Our professional future. If I have to spend one more night in this ‘feated party dish of broken dreams and ‘b’ ‘o’ I will cut off my own face.” Dean rolled his eyes at the dramatic remark, but the dramatic reactions are a part of Crowley’s character he supposed.

“Well I don’t know what you’re talking about because I’m good. Hell, I feel fantastic.” He said, holding his arms to his sides while he spoke. He was so sick and tired of people commenting on how they thought he was doing, questioning his skills in combat and whatnot. He wasn’t an idiot and he was tired of being treated like a child.

“Oh really? How many one hit wonders can you sing to death? How many of those stupid challenges on the menu can you consume?”

“Alright listen,” Dean said as he sat back down next to the demon, “the deal was we howl at the moon. No time stamp, no expiration date.”

“And we’ve done all of that. We’ve had our time of fun and all, and I’ll treasure these fleeting moments forever, but this is not what we should be doing for the rest of our lives. It’s time for us to accept what we are and go back to work. You, me, Y/N, the three of us.”

“Oh the Three Musketeers thing? As if…”

“Think of it, the King of Hell and Dean Winchester both by his side. Together the two of us could create the perfect Hell. We aren’t ending the party, just moving the party is all. Just a thought.” Crowley said as he got up.

“Right, and where exactly does Y/N fit into all this? She mentioned something about me being too reckless or whatever. What the hell was that about?”

“First of all, she’s more concerned about whatever none sense you’re putting yourself through than I am. I just gave a suggestion so she could help you get your head on straight. Speak to you in a way you may be able to understand after all.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“I offered a similar job offer, being by my side as well. It gives her something to live for rather than living amongst bloody humans and a Winchester that can’t get a grip of himself.” Crowley grumbled.

“Trust me, she knows I can get a grip of myself.” Dean smirked and the other demon acted like he was going to hurl.

“Please, spare me the details.”

Just as he was about to walk off, he realized there was something he should also mention to Dean, “By the way, I spoke to Moose earlier.”

“Um, what?” Dean asked and he turned around, looking at Crowley and he leaned his back against the bar counter.

“Seems he’s been tracking us for some time now. Apparently he got some phone from one of the demons you killed. Some things were said, perhaps too many things. Sorry about that. He may be here by morning.”

“So you sold me out. Perfect.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you. Y/N doesn’t know what’s going on with you. I don’t know how she feels but I know that I’m sure as hell tired of it.” He said starting to get ticked off.

“I sold you out, try doing you a damned favor. Everything I’ve done for you and for Y/N has been nothing but a favor. The mark, the First Blade, nursing you back to health, offering you a place by my side has all been a favor. Whether you see it or not.” He said, Dean simply looked at the demon and listened, not really sure if he should take it all to heart.

“Take the night. Think about it. You know where you can find me.”

Dean watched as Crowley walked away to go off who knows where.

He thought about last night with you. He figured that Crowley may have talked to you otherwise he knew you probably wouldn’t have thought to sleep with him in the first place no matter how good the night turned out to be. It was one hell of a way to get him to listen though. But he couldn’t help but wonder if you were against him too, if Sam had tried to contact you like he ended up contacting Crowley.

He stayed at that bar table for a few more hours and saw a few girls here and there he could hit on but then he saw you walking you through the door. He rolled his eyes and turned around to the bar and told the bartender to get him a refill.

“Well you look like Hell.” He heard you say and he scoffed a little.

“Did you know about Crowley’s sons of bitches coming to kill me?” He asked you as you sat next to him.

“He decided to take it upon himself to have a little discussion last night, yes.” He heard you reply and he rolled his eyes again.

“And did you know Sam’s been tracking us and now he’s looking for me?”

“No, he failed to include that detail. But are you surprised? You and Sam have this thing about going after each other for years. Of course he’s after you and you should’ve known that since the day you left.”

Dean hummed a little as he took a sip of his whisky before he looked at you again.

“So, you think I’m reckless, huh? I think Sammy’s on my tail because of those demons I killed so you may actually be right.” He said and you tilted your head a little.

“Was there any doubt?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.”

“Oh Dean… you and your trust issues.” You sighed as he watched you take a sip of your brandy.

“Can you blame me? The sex last night wasn’t even for a good time. It was just so I can dial things down a little.” He grumbled.

“For the record, even if Crowley did had something to do with it, or even if he hadn’t talked to me at all, my point would have still been the same. I’m not a liar like Crowley. I’m right about this and deep down you know it.” He heard you speak and he rolled his eyes with annoyance.

“What are you, my wife?”

“Oh shut up. If you want this howling at the moon thing with you and Crowley to continue, I get that. But a part of enjoying whatever life this is and whatever you’re deciding, at least be smart about it. Everything I said last night was to try and help you before you get yourself in trouble.”

“Fine, fine. What do you want me to say? Thanks for having a heart? You spoke your piece. Can we move on?”

He heard you sigh and when he glanced over at you again, his gaze softened a little, “Why don’t you and I get out of here? Sam’s probably on his way as we speak so we may need to get on the road again. I’d rather not have him find me and take me back to that blasted bunker.”

“You still want me to travel with you after you made the stupid assumption that I stabbed you in the back?”

“Well… Killing those demons by myself won’t be half as fun. Plus you aren’t nearly as big of a pain in the ass as Crowley.”

“Um.. thanks? I think?”

Dean got up and he tipped the bartender for the both of you and you guys got out of the bar so you could go to his Impala.

“You know… I guess I should thank you for picking me up in Ohio. This has probably been the most fun I’ve had in years.” Dean smirked a little.

“Speaking of fun.. I couldn’t help but notice we’ve had another demon with a death wish watching us the whole time we’ve been in the bar today.” He said and he watched you look up at him and it seemed to peek your interest.

“We’ve got some work to do, huh?” You asked and Dean smirked as he pulled out the First Blade.

Both of you turned around and saw a vessel that was about as tall but not quite as muscular as Dean walking towards you with an angel blade.

Dean started to fight off the demon and knocked him out before you managed to teleport the three of you to some abandoned alley where there would be no cameras around. Somewhere that wouldn’t get Dean into any kind of trouble, nice and secluded.

When the demon finally woke up, you held your hand up and pinned the demon up against the wall. Watching the demon struggle was already fun in itself.

“You and Abaddon’s followers… you know Crowley already told us he was sending you. All for the sake of exercise… He thinks you’re nothing but worthless scum. Which… you are, but I bet that makes you feel so small.” You said.

Then Dean walked over to the demon with his blade before he started to stab the demon repeatedly. You released the demon when it was initially wounded. It tried to swing at Dean but then Dean blocked the attack before pinning him against the wall and he stabbed the demon in the neck with the blade.

After a few moments of slicing and dicing with a bit of overkill, Dean stepped away from the body. His clothes were covered in blood and you looked at him. He was relentless but, it was what the mark wanted him to be.

You snapped your fingers and the demon went up in red smoke and you looked at the hunter in front of you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up. We can’t have cameras catching you all bloody.” You insisted and you snapped your fingers yet again and it was like the demon blood turned into red smoke and disappeared as well.

“There. Clean slate. That’s how you have fun killing without leaving evidence behind.” He heard you and he watched you walk away to the car, making him smirk a little.

Then, once you two made it into the Impala again you got into the car. Dean backed the car out of the parking lot and began driving away.

The first part of the ride was silent and Dean was growing lost in thought before he heard you start to speak again, “You know Sam isn’t going to stop looking for you. And you know you won’t be able to run forever.” He assumed you were referring to the discussion of Sam tracking the three of you down to find Dean.

“So?”

“So… what do you plan on doing about it if you don’t want to be found?”

“That may have to be something I think about another time. At this point I’m thinking of changing my number just to stop getting calls from the guy.”

“I just hope you know what you’re doing with your brother…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.”

Hey there!! Thank you for reading if you’ve made it this far in the fanfiction! Sorry this chapter was a little short, it’s more of a filler chapter but there is more Demon Dean to come within the next chapters. Will Sam contact you before Dean changes for good? Or will Dean accept Crowley’s offer to stand by his side as a ruler of Hell?

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @johannelis2302nely @alternativeprincess94 @doctorlexilouwhosblog @justtrying2getby-blog