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waywardrose13 · 3 years

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Deliverance From Evil

Pairing: DARK!Dean Winchester x Reader (?), Sam x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 11,054

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: Non-con, rape, physical and mental/emotional abuse. Ages 18+, virgin!reader, language, mentions of depression/anxiety, curse, purgatory, purgatory!Dean, hateful remarks, negative self image, mentions of suicidal thoughts, not enough editing to satisfy me. Please let me know if I missed any triggers/warnings.

Rating: Mature- 18+!! If I find that you are under 18, you will be blocked. Go read some of my minor friendly stories.

Summary: Dean Winchester had two sides; the selfless, caring man who loved his baby brother, car, and pie; and the cruel, sadistic man who was hell bent on making Y/n’s life a living hell. When Dean, Cas, and Y/n are sucked into Purgatory, things take a turn for the worse. Two years later, Y/n finds herself face to face with the man who broke her. A new discovery leads to Y/n finding out the truth, yet sometimes, the truth is better left unsaid.

A/N- This story is very dark and can be triggering to some readers. Please do not read if any of the above warnings are triggering to you. I have also listed some resources below if you are in need of help. I love you all!

Bingo squares: @spndarkbingo (Purgatory!Dean) // @badthingshappenbingo (This is for your own good) // @spndeanbingo (Soulmates AU)

U.S. National Sexual Violence Hotline: 800.656.4673

U.S. National Domestic Abuse Hotline: 800.799.7233

The idea of Purgatory wasn’t what put me on edge. It wasn’t the monsters constantly down your throat, or the blood, sweat, and tears that somehow never seemed to stop. It was Dean Winchester’s sinister stare and cruel remarks that put me on edge.

I didn’t hate the man. If I was being honest, I felt quite the opposite, but it was more of a feeling of distress. Ever since meeting him, something about me had made him loathe me. I wasn’t sure what it was, nor have I ever asked, but whatever it is, I have never been able to make him at least tolerate me.

Sam and I had met in college. I was a freshman when he was a senior, and he tutored me for a while. We became friends, and soon we found out the both of us had gone to college to escape the hunting life. We grew apart for years, naturally coming back together on a hunt.

I had been at the bunker with the Winchesters ever since, much to the elder brother’s dismay. And ever since then, Dean had made it his job to make my life a living hell.

It started out as small jabs at me; little comments that had an underlying, cruel meaning to them. Or forgetting to pick me up from police stations, houses, etc, or not bringing back food for me. But slowly, it evolved into something more. He began openly being cruel towards me, saying things that made me cry in bed at night. He’d shove me when Sam wasn’t looking, he’d purposely break my things, bleach my clothes, point out my insecurities for a laugh.

I honestly thought the bullying ended in high school.

I hadn’t fallen in love with the person he was towards me. I had fallen in love with the person he was to others. He was selfless and caring. He was brave, intelligent, and had a killer sense of humor. And the simple sight of him made me weak at the knees. But whenever his words were spoken to me, or his glare was pointed at me, I sometimes forgot who he was when he wasn’t hating me.

Something must have been wrong with me. How could I love a man who was so ruthlessly callous to me? Although I had tried to stop the feelings, it was like an inexplicable pull vehemently caused me to fall into a confusing love with this man. It was unstoppable, and however much I prayed or wished for it to leave, the feeling never ceased.

“Hey, Y/N!” I jumped as Dean barked at me, and I snapped myself out of it, looking towards him. “Get your head out of the damn clouds and move your ass.”

I sighed, hoisting my makeshift bag onto my shoulder, trudging after him and Benny.

After Dean killed Dick Roman, he, Cas and I were swallowed into Purgatory along with the Leviathan, too close to the impact sight, apparently. I immediately knew I was fucked when Dean looked at me dead in the eyes when we landed and told me he’d rather go to hell than be stuck with me in a place like this.

“We need her, Dean,” Cas had said. Dean had rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“We need her like we need the plague, Cas,” he snarled. I flinched at his words, and I closed my eyes for a moment to keep the tears at bay. “I mean for fucks sake.”

“Look, the way I see it, I don’t care if you hate her, but we need all the help we can get. And she’s a good hunter despite everything else you, for some reason, hate about her.”

It was the first time someone had stood up for me. It wasn’t long, however, before Dean and I were on our own, Cas seemingly taking off after a particularly rough fight. He ignored me the whole time, not saying any words to me, but using his shoulder to roughly shove me out of his way from time to time. The way I saw it, he wasn’t verbally abusing me anymore. I could manage a few shoves.

When Benny joined our team of two, Dean began speaking again, and we continued the search for Cas.

So here we were now, walking through the dense forest of Purgatory, eyes and ears constantly alert. It was like the start of a bad joke; two hunters and a vampire walk through purgatory…

“Don’t mind him, Cher,” Benny murmured to me. “He’s in a mood.”

“He’s always in a mood around me, Benny,” I said. “Nothing I do will ever change that.”

“Benny, quit gossiping with her and get over here,” Dean said, voice hushed. He was crouched down over the edge of a cliff, Benny and I making our way to crouch on either side of him. Dean shot me a dirty look, and he turned slightly towards Benny.

“What is it?” The vampire asked. Dean nodded his head to the valley at the bottom of the ridge.

“Leviathans,” Dean said. “Took out a small pack of wolves a few minutes ago.”

I shivered, watching as one of the leviathans picked up a severed limb, inspecting it before tossing it to the side.

“Shit. That was our path, wasn’t it?” Benny asked. Dean nodded.

“Yeah, and I’m not really in the mood to get into a fight with a bunch of leviathans right now,” he said.

“I don’t blame you, chief,” Benny agreed. “But what are we going to do now?”

I glanced to the left, eyes roaming the cliff side. It was high above the creatures below, and it fed to another cliff edge on the other side. It would be above our path, but most likely would run parallel alongside it. There seemed to be good footwells along the cliffside, and I struggled to get the courage up to speak.

“I have an idea,” I said. Both men looked over at me, interest on Benny’s face and annoyance on Dean’s.

“The adults are talking,” Dean said.

“Let her talk, chief,” Benny said, patting his friend on the back. “Go ‘head, cher.”

I swallowed. “The side of the cliff: it’s hidden by the tops of the trees. But-” I pointed to the other edge- “if we are careful enough, we could climb across and get to the other landing. I’m guessing the otherside runs parallel to our original path, it’ll just be higher.”

“Smart,” Benny said, giving me a smile. “Real good.”

“How the hell are you going to climb across the side of a damn cliff?” Dean asked, raising a brow. “You can barely hold up your axe.”

I bit my lip. “I’ll manage. And I can, too, hold up my axe. I’m not weak.”

Suddenly I was being shoved onto my back, my hands being pressed into the dirt as Dean held my wrists. He straddled my waist, his face inches from mine.

“Push me off,” he hissed, eyes furiously burning through my skull. I struggled beneath his hold. I was strong, but Dean was stronger, and no matter how much I bucked and pushed and pulled, he wouldn’t budge.

He let go of me for a moment, and I shoved at his chest, quickly being held down again with one hand while his other held a knife to my throat.

“You know, it would be so easy to end you right now,” he growled. My eyes widened in fear. “I wouldn’t have to hear your whiny, sniveling voice anymore and see your pathetically hideous face.”

I couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in my eyes.

“It would put us all out of our misery.”

“That’s enough, Dean,” Benny said, now on his feet.

“The bitch needs to be taught a lesson,” Dean said, pressing harder. I whimpered, fear clutching my heart in its grasp as he smirked darkly at me. “Don’t you… bitch?”

“Get off me, Dean,” I said, bucking beneath him again. He laughed, hand squeezing my wrists tighter. “Stop it.”

In a blink of an eye, he had reared the blade back, bringing it shooting back down until it stabbed into the ground beside my head. I flinched away from it, eyes squeezing shut as he was being pulled off me.

“What the hell is your problem?” Benny asked, pushing Dean against a tree. “What the fuck has she ever done to you?”

“What do you mean? Just look at her,” Dean said.

“Give me a reason, chief,” Benny snarled. “Give me one good reason why you terrorize that poor woman.”

Dean hesitated, his mouth agape as he thought for a moment. I was sitting up, hand on my throat as I watched carefully as he closed his mouth and set his jaw, eyes casting downwards.

“That’s what I thought,” Benny muttered, letting him go. Dean took a deep breath, looking up at me for a moment.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way.” He bent down to pick up his sword, slinging it over his shoulder onto his back before making his way to the cliff side.

Benny helped me to my feet, hands cradling my head as he inspected my neck. There was a small nick from Dean’s blade, but I was relatively unscathed.

“Alright, cher,” Benny began, hands gently resting on my shoulders. “You stick with me, okay? I won’t let Dean touch you again.”

I swallowed thickly, nodding my head as he patted my back. He pulled me in for a quick hug before following after Dean.

***

The next three days had gone by in a blur. We had yet to find Cas, and Dean was getting impatient. It was a constant surge of monsters and a constant physical battle with ourselves as we pushed through the fights, trying to swallow back our bile at the blood and guts that inevitably found itself onto our clothes.

I was washing up in the river, a little way through the trees from a camp we had set up for the night. I had carefully peeled off my bloodstained clothes, washing my body as best I could with the river’s water before attempting to clean my jeans and shirt. I scrubbed at them until the blood was simply an ugly stain, tossing the garments onto a nearby rock to dry. I was midway running water over my hair when suddenly arms were lifting me up, eliciting a squeal from my lips. A hand clamped over my mouth and I was dragged back behind the rocks. I struggled in the arms of my captor, rearing my head back and bashing it into their nose. They grunted, and they let go.

I spun around, fists raised, eyes widening.

“Dean? What the hell?” I asked, covering my stomach. My chest was still covered by my bra, and the water was deep enough to cover the bottom half of me, but I felt naked under Dean’s intense gaze. I glance around, spotting my clothes on the boulder. I grabbed at them, pulling the shirt over my head before my jeans were ripped away from me and thrown to the side. “Hey!”

His lips crashed against mine in a bruising force, hand tangling in my hair as he snaked an arm around my waist, crushing my body against his. My hands flew to his chest and I tried to push him away, confusion and fear coursing through my veins as he wouldn’t let go.

I bit down on his lip, and he reared back with a small yelp, touching where blood began to seep from the bite. I pulled my shirt on as he was distracted and backed away from him, arms curling around my torso.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked, wiping away the blood. I stared at him, mouth dropping.

“What the fuck was that?” I yelled. He raised a brow. “You don’t just come onto a girl like that! Especially after treating her like you treat me!”

“I… huh?”

“Are you seriously playing dumb right now?” I asked, brows drawing together. “You can’t be that fucking idiotic.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? For everything. But here’s the thing,” he said, moving closer to me. I moved back until I was pressed against the rock. “We’ve been here for almost a year, right? Neither of us have gotten any within that time. You just looked hot down here in the water, and I see the way you look at me sometimes so I just thought, ‘hey, why not?’”

How long had I dreamed a moment like this would happen? Too many times. More than I’d care to admit. But did I really want to be with Dean for the first time like this? With him hating my guts, simply wanting a quick fuck in Purgatory pf all places? Fuck no.

I scoffed, shaking my head. “You’re shitting me.”

“No.”

I ran a hand through my damp hair. “I… I can’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth right now. You think I’m hideous! You’ve said so multiple times, so you’re full of shit! And just so you know, you don’t just jump onto a girl and assume she wants the same thing you do. Besides, who wouldn’t be attracted to you, for fuck’s sake? It doesn’t mean I want to fuck you! God, Dean! You hate me!”

“I don’t hate you…”

“Yes, you do! You’ve bullied me like a damn middle schooler since the moment you met me!”

He sighed, jaw clenching. “Fine. You know what? Forget it.” He moved past me, stopping for a second. “And all have you know, it’s not that I hate you. It’s just that I can’t stand to be around you for more than ten minutes without wanting to put a gun in my mouth. And you’re right, I do think you’re hideous, and my god does your personality make you fucking ugly inside and out. If you don’t want work done on your face, at least work on that. Maybe then you could find someone willing to put up with you.”

He left then, leaving me speechless. I collapsed against the rock, silent sobs racking my body. I hated myself, and Dean thrived on that fact. I had no idea what I had ever done to him, nor did I understand how someone could be so cruel. But there was one thing I did know for sure; Dean Winchester was absolutely hell bent on breaking me.

***

I combed my hair out with my fingers, eyes staring out over the water.

It was nearly a week after my confrontation with Dean, and he had gone back to ignoring me. I was okay with it, not minding the silence after the cruel words. I always relied on my friendship with Benny to get me through, but it seemed as though he was pulling away from me, too.

I sighed, my hands finding themselves on the dirt beneath me. They were filthy, no matter how many times I scrubbed at them with moss and water, the blood and mud wouldn’t rid itself from my skin.

Suddenly, something went soaring through the air in front of my face, a blade lodging itself in the tree beside me. I fell back, flattening myself on the ground as I looked to the side, seeing Dean standing twenty feet from me, a dark smirk on his face, Benny shaking his head behind him.

“What the hell, Dean!” I shouted, scrambling to my feet. “You could’ve killed me!”

“But I didn’t,” he said, walking towards me. He reached past me, eyes locked on mine as he retrieved the knife from the bark. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Don’t be so… are you fucking with me?” I asked, watching as he turned around and shrugged off his jacket.

“Just drop it, cher,” Benny said, rolling his eyes. I set my jaw and turned away, swallowing back the anger brewing inside my chest. I folded my arms over each other, biting down on my tongue until I drew blood. “I’m going to scout the area. See if I can’t find a better place to set up camp.”

I inwardly groaned at the thought of being alone with Dean, and watched from the corner of my eye as Benny made his way through the trees, Dean leaning against one to stare at me. He was twirling his blade around in his fingers, his smirk not fading from his face. I shifted uncomfortably.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” Dean began.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” I muttered. He stopped twirling the knife, smirk fading to replace his expression with a stoic, hard one.

“I’ll give you one more chance at this, Y/N,” he said. He walked toward me slowly, and I backed away a bit.

“At what?” I asked, now pressed against a tree. Dean didn’t stop moving until he could press his palm against the tree, leaning into it as he bent down until he was eye level with me.

“I think you know.” His eyes flickered down to my lips, his tongue running out to wet his own. I shivered as he lowered his face to the side of my head, nose pressing into my hair to take a deep breath in.

“Dean, please, I don’t-”

“You know, I bet you’re still a virgin,” he interrupted, ignoring my words. I tried pushing against his chest but he took my hands in his, bringing them behind my back and crushing me further into the tree. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with anyone. Although, I’m not surprised.”

“Dean, stop it,” I said harshly, but once again my words went unheard, and he nipped my collarbone.

“Fuck, a virgin pussy sounds so good right now.”

“I said stop, Dean!” I cried, pushing harder against him. He retaliated, quickly holding both of my hands in one of his in order to press against my throat with the other.

“I don’t give a fuck about what you said,” he hissed. “The only reason you’re alive is because of me. Face it, you wouldn’t have made it on your own, and the only reason that I haven’t killed you myself yet is because Sam would kill me when we get back.” He crushed his lips to mine, all teeth and rough pressure as he shoved his tongue into my mouth. He rolled his hips against me, and my stomach churned. “I haven’t had any in a long time, Y/N. I need to let off some steam, and you owe me.” He pulled back to look into my teary eyes. “Answer me this… are you a virgin?”

I clenched my jaw. “Let go of me.”

He growled and slapped me, a yelp escaping my lips as he gripped my chin, bashing my head back against the bark. “I will find out one way or another, I’m just curious.”

I swallowed, teeth sinking into my tongue. I’ve had two boyfriends in the past, if I could even call them that. I had only gone on a few dates with both of them, but never went further than second base. I was twenty-four and never worried about still being a virgin.

Until now.

I didn’t want my first time being like this; raped in purgatory by the man who hates me, and who I was utterly afraid of; raped by a man I had unwillingly fallen in love with.

I gave a short nod, and he smiled darkly. “Not surprising, but definitely exciting.”

“Dean, please don’t do this,” I said, struggling against his hold. “Please.”

“Benny will be back soon, so we need to make this quick,” he said. And suddenly, his hand was off my throat and on the button of my jeans.

“No!” I snarled, trying to kick at him, but he wedged his knee between my legs, and I was completely trapped.

His hand was inside my pants and down the front of my panties without hesitation, and I cringed at the thought of the dirt and blood that coated both of our skin. His fingers ran through my folds, thumb finding my clit quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut as nausea washed over me, and my body went rigid at the alien feeling of someone else’s hands down there. A tear trickled down my cheek, and Dean bent forward to lick it up.

“Come on, baby,” he cooed mockingly. “Just go with it. There’s nothing you can do to stop it anyway.”

I reared back as far as I could to spit in his face. He flinched back in surprise, his face morphing from cocky and dark to menacing, and I was thrown to the ground roughly within a second, Dean quickly hovering over me and holding me down before I could move away.

“I was trying to make this better for you, I truly was,” he said, beginning to undo his belt. I shuddered and squirmed beneath him. “But now, you’ve just pissed me off. So I don’t give a fuck if you’re ready or not.”

He shoved his jeans down far enough to free his cock from his boxers, moving back to tear at my own jeans and panties and drag them down my legs. I flipped around and began crawling away, but he gripped my ankle and turned me around onto my back.

“I want to see you,” he grunted, hands spreading my legs enough for him to fit between them. I looked down at his prick, eyes widening as I saw the size of him, and he laughed. “You’re in for it now, sweetheart.”

He stroked himself a few times before lining up with my entrance. I didn’t stop struggling, hands trying to claw at his face, my eyes blurring from my tears. He gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands while the other held himself until the tip was resting against me, and then he moved his hand to grip my waist harshly.

He forced himself inside me in one painful thrust, and a scream of pain was ripped from my throat. Dean smirked, relishing in the fact he had just torn through my virginity with such cruelty and violence. He groaned as he began to move. My hands slumped against him, knowing it was no use. He was much stronger than me, and he had already gotten what he wanted.

“I knew you’d like this,�� he hissed in my ear, pulling out just to snap back in. “A bitch born to take a cock. My cock.”

The last shred of my innocence was taken within a second, and each time he shoved himself inside me, it took everything in me not to burst into tears. I turned my face away from him, eyes squeezed as tight as I could in order to try and disassociate myself, praying that this was simply but a dream.

But as he hiked up my leg around his waist to angle himself deeper inside me, I knew it wasn’t a dream, but a nightmare, one born to tear down my walls and shatter the last of my will. I knew Dean Winchester was intent on breaking me, but I didn’t know he’d take it to such extremes.

“Shit,” he cursed, plunging himself deeper and deeper with each thrust until he couldn’t go any further. I bit my lip to keep in my cries of pain, nails sinking into the palms of my hand.

His hips began to stutter, his movements choppy and I knew he was close. I dug my nails in deeper until I felt blood trickle from my fingers. His hand gripped my jaw, turning my head.

“Look at me,” he growled, holding himself to the hilt inside me until I complied. He smirked at the tears that trickled from my eyes, and slammed himself home once, twice, three more times before he came. He held his hips flush to my pelvis, eyes still locked with mine as he spilled himself inside me.

He gave a few more lazy humps, making sure he didn’t waste a single drop of his come before slipping out, sitting back on his haunches and taking a deep breath. “Wow.”

I sniffled, scooting as far away as possible as I pulled up my panties and jeans with shaky hands, trying to hold back the sobs and failing. I brought my hand up to my mouth, biting my sleeve to stifle the cries threatening to echo off the trees, and brought my knees up to my chest.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Dean said smiling. He laughed, shaking his head. “You felt better than I thought.” He sighed, standing up then and looked down at me. “Benny will be back soon. So pull yourself together before then. Say one word to him about this, I’ll kill you.”

I nodded in understanding, and he grunted.

He grabbed his axe and turned away, trudging off into the woods for his usual search for firewood.

In the five minutes he was gone, I took the time to pack up the few belongings I had, and without turning back, I ran for the hills.

Two Years Later

The nightmares never faded.

They had become less frequent, yet every few days or so, I’d run from the images inside my own head, battling demons within me instead of on the battlefield. Being scared of someone or something is one thing, but being scared of your own mind, your own dreams, was an entirely different thing, and it took strength to lay down and risk the possibility of reliving old trauma.

Yet, it was inevitable, after everything that had happened. Therapy helped, so did the anti-depressants and anxiety pills I took each night. But the truth of the matter was, the memories of Purgatory were always there, and the guilt and shame never faded, it simply turned into a dull ache that never truly went away.

Running from Dean, I was sore and bleeding, and all I cared about was keeping as much distance between him and I as possible. I listened to the whispers of the monsters, making sure I was never too close.

Dean got out before I did, just two months after I ran, and it was only a few days later that I found the portal. I didn’t even try to contact Sam, because where Sam went, Dean went.

Instead, I changed my name and set up a life for myself in a small town up in the mountains of West Virginia. I got a job at a police station as a victim advocate, got an apartment, and never once looked back.

Quitting hunting wasn’t easy, and every once in a while I’d take a case close to home. But I typically stayed within the state, not wanting to risk running into the brothers on a hunt.

Over those two years, I slowly began to rebuild my walls. However, in a split second, it all came crumbling down again.

It was a Monday afternoon in October. A cool front had washed over the Virginias and Maryland, finally carrying a crisp, sweet wind to cool our skin from the sweltering heat of the summer.

I was walking back to the station from lunch, having ran to a sandwich shop a block away. I was chewing on my lip and thinking about a particular case when I saw it; the sleek black coat of the Impala.

I felt my stomach drop, and I felt like I would be sick. Surely it couldn’t be the brothers. Other people had this particular car, too. But my fears were confirmed when the door to the station opened, and Sam walked out into the wind, leaves scattering around his feet, Dean right behind him.

I was frozen with fear. All the progress I had made had diminished in a second. I wanted to turn and run the other way. I wanted to duck into the alley and wait until they were gone. But I couldn’t move. My limbs were suddenly planted and my body lost the ability to move as the man who had made my life hell for years and haunted my dreams stepped into the sun.

Sam looked around as Dean led the way to the Impala. There was nothing I could do as his eyes landed on me, the surprised look on his face making me wince, the fearful one on mine catching him off guard.

“Y/N?” He asked. I saw Dean stiffen at the sound of my name, and I suddenly regained the ability to move. I spun on my heel and rushed into the alley, hoping to make it around to the back of the station and slip inside unseen. But Sam’s long legs made it so he was faster than me, and no amount of sprinting could keep me far enough away. He stepped in front of me, and my eyes widened. “Y/N… I… You’re alive.”

I swallowed thickly, looking over my shoulder. I tensed as I saw Dean at the end of the alley, his face hard and jaw clenched as he met my eyes. I looked back at Sam, shaking my head and stepping around him.

“I have to get back to work,” I said, trying to push past him.

“Wait!” He said, gripping my arm. I flinched, and he let go immediately.

“Sam,” I said, looking up at him. He tilted his head in confusion at the look of defeat on my face. “Please.”

“I don’t understand,” he muttered. “Dean said you were dead. That you died when you were in Purgatory.”

“A part of me did,” I admitted. Sam’s face darkened at my words, and I looked away. “And if you love me, you’d stay away from me. For good.”

“I thought I lost my best friend, Y/N,” Sam said. “I can’t just let you go now, knowing you’re alive.”

“Sam, please,” I begged. “Please.”

“Why?” He demanded.

“Just let her be, Sam.”

My breath hitched in my throat, and I looked back over towards Sam. Dean had caught up to us and was standing beside his brother now, a dark look on his face. His stare was icy, and it sent shivers down my spine. I shivered when he licked his lips, eyes raking up and down my body and suddenly I was back in Purgatory, his predatory gaze sending me reeling to a time of pain and misery.

“Y/N!”

I jumped, realizing Sam had been trying to get my attention for some time now. I looked up at him, worrying my lip, tears filling my eyes. “Sam, I can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what? Why did Dean lie? What the hell happened in Purgatory?” He asked.

“Dean didn’t…” I trailed off, rolling my eyes with a scoff. “No, I guess he wouldn’t tell you what happened.”

“Y/N,” Dean warned, stare turning deadly.

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam snapped. “Y/N, you can tell me anything.”

“No, I can’t,” I said, shaking my head. “Your brother will kill me.”

“No, he won’t. I won’t let him,” Sam said. “Now please, I miss my best friend. Let me help you.”

“You can’t help me,” I said. “Not anymore. Purgatory was shitty in itself, but Dean…”

I was suddenly pushed up against the brick wall, a yelp escaping me as Dean’s hand wrapped around my throat, his body pressed against mine. I shivered in fear, visibly shaking as his lips curled into a snarl.

“Dean!” Sam exclaimed, trying to pry his brother off me.

“What did I tell you would happen if you told anyone?” Dean hissed. I beat at his hands, trying to kick out at him.

“Dean…”

“I’ll kill ‘ya,” he said. “I’ll do it right now. Don’t. Say. A. Word.”

Tears trickled down my cheeks, and Sam was able to tear Dean off me, pushing him up against the opposite wall.

“What the fuck?” He yelled. He pushed off his brother, turning towards me, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. His voice softened then. “Are you okay?”

“I really need to… to get back to work,” I whispered. I was still shaking, and Sam’s fingers tightened slightly, almost as if he was trying to steady me.

“Can I come see you after work? I’ll meet you here and walk you home?”

I glanced over Sam’s shoulder towards Dean. His jaw was set, and he gave a shake of his head.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I murmured. I watched a smirk grow on Dean’s face, and I shivered.

“I’m sorry. But I don’t care. I’ll meet you here, okay? At five?”

I nodded.

“Okay. See you then.” He turned slightly. “He won’t be coming, don’t worry.”

The brothers stared at each other intently, and I scurried off as quick as I could, clutching the brown bag in my hand to my chest, not trusting my hands not to shake.

It was my luck that they would end up here, out of all the towns and all the cases in the continental U.S., they had to end up here. There was one thing I was sure about; I wouldn’t be meeting Sam, nor would I be going back to work. I forgot all about my few belongings in the office, beelining to my car, readying myself to pack and be out of town by tonight.

***

I didn’t have much in terms of belongings. It didn’t take long to pack, and I had no set destination. If I had a set destination, I could be found.

I was taping up the few boxes I had, picking up a few odds and ends, figuring I would leave the furniture and have the building owner sell it. Just as I was finishing, three sound knocks were rapped on my door.

I froze.

I wasn’t expecting anyone, and I hadn’t made any friends since moving to town. No one would be coming here unannounced. No one except the Winchesters. They had their ways of finding where I lived. Sam probably asked around the station.

“Fucking Sam,” I muttered to myself. I pushed myself up off the floor, stalking to my front door. “So not cool.”

I unlocked the door, keeping the deadbolt in, before opening it.

My heart jumped to my throat.

“Dean?” I asked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You didn’t show up to your meet-up with Sammy,” he said. He glanced around my door, stuffing his hands in his pockets, nodding. “Simple and plain. It suits you.”

“Go away, Dean,” I said. “I have cop friends and I’m not afraid to call them. Just go.”

Dean laughed. “Please. We both know you’re not friends with any of them. Besides, what would you tell them? You know what will happen if you say anything.”

“Fuck off, Dean,” I hissed. I went to close the door, but Dean was quick to stick his foot out, wedging it between the door and the frame.

“Nuh uh uh,” he tsked. “Won’t you invite me in, little pig?”

I swallowed. “No.”

“Oh, but why?” He asked, smirking. “You scared?”

I lifted my chin, standing up straighter. “No.”

He chuckled darkly, bending slightly to meet my eye level. “I think we both know that’s a lie, little pig.”

“Get the fuck away from me, Dean,” I hissed. I kicked at his foot sharply, unwedging it, promptly slamming my door shut in the process, turning the lock. I backed away from the door, feeling under the small table near the front door for my gun.

I screamed as my door was kicked in, wood splintering off the frame. Dean laughed, stepping past the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him. It didn’t quite close all the way, but enough so Dean could slip the chain into its lock.

“Here’s Johnny,” he teased, smiling. My eyes widened, and I gripped the gun, ripping it from its confinement, lifting my arm to shoot. Dean moved quickly, knocking the gun from my hand, pushing me back against the wall. He thrusted forward, crashing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss.

“Miss me?”

“Get away from me!” I screeched. “Help! Somebody please help me!”

I sobbed as he fisted his hand in my hair, bashing my head back against the wall.

“You fucking bitch,” he hissed. “Almost telling Sammy about our little roll around. What did I tell you, hmm? Have you told anyone else?”

My eyes were blurred from the tears. Somehow my nightmares were coming true. Somehow hell had shown up at my front door, rearing its ugly head and laughing as fear twisted my insides and made my head spin. What had I done to deserve this?

“No,” I said. “I haven’t told anyone. I won’t tell anyone. Please just leave me alone.”

He ran a hand down my face, thumb smearing my tears across my skin. “Oh, but I can’t do that. You disobeyed me. You made Sam skeptical. You must be punished.”

“No,” I cried. “Please, Dean. Please don’t do this.”

He gripped my hair tighter, jerking me down the hall, my fists beating against him the whole time, fighting, kicking, screaming. He simply bent down, picking me up, and carried me into my room. He threw me onto my bed, hands gripping my thighs as he flipped me over onto my stomach.

“Now, bad girls must be punished,” he said. He reached underneath me, fingers unbuttoning my jeans. I kicked back at him, my heel meeting the fleshy part of his thigh. He grunted, and I clawed away from him, but he simply pulled me back down. “Well, that just made things so much worse for you.”

He yanked my jeans down, throwing them somewhere in the room, hands tearing at my simple cotton panties. Tears blurred my vision, and I desperately tried to crawl away. I fisted my hands on the mattress, trying to somehow escape from his hold.

I cried out as his palm collided with my ass.

“Tell me, have you been with anyone else since me?” He asked. I sobbed, screeching behind clenched teeth as he hit me again. “Answer me, bitch.”

“No,” I said. He laughed. I hadn’t heard him take off his belt, but I heard the snap as he pulled it taut. “No, no, no.”

“Oh, yes,” he laughed. He brought the belt down, letting it smack against my bare skin. The sting radiated through my back. Dean was strong, and each time his arm was brought down, the belt would send another striking shot of fire through my body. I was frozen with pain and fear. Dean didn’t have to hold me down after a while. I couldn’t move. “This is for your own good, Y/n.”

I didn’t know how long he struck me. Over, and over, and over he striked, and I lost count after twenty. My hands were clenched in the mattress cover, tears soaking the fabric beneath me, clouding my vision.

I finally heard him throw the belt aside, and his hands curled around my hips, lifting my bottom into the air gently. He softly caressed my skin, and I jumped when I felt his lips touch the welts.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He rubbed my lower back slowly. “I’m so sorry.”

I sunk my teeth into my lower lip. I froze, not sure what I was supposed to do. I knew moving was out of the question. I was in too much pain to move. Confusion sunk into my bones as he slowly kissed up my back, until he was hovering over me.

He turned me slowly, gently placing me on my back, eyes looking down at me. He tilted his head, thumb wiping away my tears. “Hey, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.”

“Don’t cry?” I whispered. “How do you expect me to be okay with all of this, Dean? You broke me in Purgatory. You’ve haunted my dreams for the past two years. Then you do this? Just kill me and get it over with. Please.”

He shook his head, furrowing his brows. “I’m not here to kill you. I actually, believe it or not, came to apologize. But as soon as you opened the door I just… I don’t know what came over me.”

“Like I believe that,” I hissed. “Just get the fuck out.”

His jaw ticked, and suddenly his resolve faded. For a second I saw remorse, and now? Fire raged behind his leaf green eyes. I felt his whole body tense against me. I felt him… grow… beneath me.

“Fuck no,” I said. A rush of adrenaline coursed through me. I rolled away from him, landing on my back on the wood floor. I cried out as my raw skin made impact, but I pushed myself up quickly. Dean was up now, his eyes hard and piercing.

“Come here, little pig,” he snarled. I spun and dashed towards the bathroom. He leaped over the bed after me, but I was already inside, locking the door quickly. I heard shuffling, and I knew I needed to think fast. I spotted the window and yanked my robe off the hook, slipping it on. I stepped onto the toilet, pushed the window open, and peered down the three flights my apartment was up. I swallowed thickly, glancing back at the bathroom door. The doorknob was jiggling, and I knew he was picking the lock. Mustering up the courage, I hoisted myself up and swung my legs over. The door suddenly burst open, our eyes locking.

“Don’t you dare,” he said. I took a deep breath and looked down again. Just as he lunged forward, I let go, feeling the rush of air and my heart plummet to my stomach. My eyes were wide as I watched the ground rush up on me all too quickly. I tried ducking my shoulder to attempt to roll, hopefully saving my legs and head in the process, but I couldn’t quite get there. I felt something snap as I hit the ground, a sickening crunch sounding in my ears as I landed on my side.

“Y/n!”

That voice was different. That voice was angelic... kind. Sam.

“Oh my god,” he said. He bent down, hands cradling my face as he looked into my eyes. “Hey, stay with me. Are you alright? Jesus- of course you’re not alright, you jumped from a fucking window to get away from my brother. God, Y/n I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Why does he hate me so?” I whimpered before everything went dark.

***

“Should she be asleep this long?”

“Her body is healing. It’s up to her now.”

***

“Get the fuck out.”

“Sam… I don’t know what happened.”

“Don’t you dare say that. Don’t come up with these-these lame ass excuses. I saw what you did, and I have an idea about purgatory. Now, for the last time, get the fuck out.”

***

“She will stay with me.”

“And you are?”

“Her brother.”

***

I jolted awake. My body was on fire, my head pounding with a dull ache. I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the bright light above my head. A beeping sound came from my right, and a quick glance showed an EKG meter. A fucking hospital.

My shoulder was bandaged and arm in a sling. My knee had a brace on it. My behind felt raw as shit.

“Fuck,” I muttered as I tried to sit up.

“Y/n! Thank God.”

I jumped at the sound of a voice.

“Sam.”

“God, Y/n… I’m so sorry. So, so, so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” I told him.

“No, but I should have known. I should have done something. God, I can’t believe it.”

I sighed, fiddling with a loose thread on the scratchy blanket that was laid over me. I furrowed my brows.

“Sam… did Dean tell you what happened in purgatory?”

Sam swallowed thickly. “No. But I can guess.”

I nodded slowly. “He told me he’d kill me if I ever told anyone.”

“Have you?” Sam asked.

“My therapist,” I replied.

“A therapist?”

“Yeah. I needed one,” I said. “I was… broken when I got out. I was getting so much better, Sam. I felt like me again. Sure, I still had the nightmares sometimes but… I wasn’t always looking over my shoulder.” My lip wobbled as I fought back tears. “Damn him.”

“God, Y/n/n. I can’t believe it. It just seems so… not Dean,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Sam, I know you mean well, but please stop saying sorry,” I said. He smiled and blushed.

“Sorry.” He cringed. I laughed.

“Stop it,” I told him, pushing his shoulder lightly. He laughed too, grabbing my hand. He kissed my knuckles.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

“I’ve missed you, too,” I told him. “But I knew that where you went, Dean went.”

“I understand,” he said.

“Oh good, you’re awake!”

Sam and I both looked at the door, a plump woman in a white lab coat standing in the doorway. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, glasses pristinely balanced on her nose, lips lined with deep red lipstick. She looked like a T.V. doctor, not a doctor in middle-of-nowhere West Virginia.

“How are you feeling?” She asked. She checked my vitals and IV bag.

“Sore,” I replied.

“Your brother here has offered to take you home,” she said. I looked pointedly at Sam who shrugged sheepishly. “Look here.”

She shined a light into my eyes, checked my bandages, and determined that I could go home as long as I was supervised for 48 hours. I silently wondered where Dean was, hoping I wasn’t going to see him. If Sam was taking me home, who knows what would happen? Dean knew where I lived. But if Sam was there, perhaps he wouldn’t be stupid enough to try anything.

***

“Are you alright?”

Sam gently placed me onto the motel bed, careful not to hurt me. His brows were furrowed in worry and his lips were pursed into a frown. I let out a shaky laugh.

“No,” I said. “But I’ll get there.”

“Y/n, I’m so-”

“Stop it!” I scolded. “What did I say?”

“Not to apologize anymore?” He said slowly.

“That’s correct,” I said. I laid back onto the pillows, which were worn, but on my sore shoulder and back, they honestly didn’t feel too bad. “Now, mama needs to rest.”

Sam snorted. “Okay… mama.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t mock me, Samuel.” He raised his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, mama,” he said. “I’ll call Cas. He can heal you.”

I perked up at Castiel’s name. The gentle angel and I had been good friends. I heard whispers about him too, while in purgatory that is. I shivered at the thought of that place and…

No. I wouldn’t think about that now. I was safe with Sam. Surely Dean couldn’t find us here. Right? Sam would have taken measures to keep him from doing so.

“Hey, Cas. It’s Sam. Listen…”

Sam’s voice trailed off as he stepped outside the room, closing the door softly behind him. Suddenly, the room turned eerie. The air conditioner hummed loudly under the window, producing some sound in the empty room. It was confining. I shifted on the bed, wincing as my shoulder moved in an odd way. I adjusted my sling to a more comfortable position. I hated these things.

I sighed deeply, glancing towards the door again. I blew a piece of hair out of my eyes. Alone. It wasn’t an odd sensation to me. I had been alone for the last two years. But I had slipped so easily back into the comfortable familiarity that was once me and Sam. I had missed him so much. He was my best friend, my confidant. Being around him again was liberating. It lifted a weight off my shoulders.

Telling someone what had happened in purgatory, besides a therapist, lifted a weight off my shoulders.

Of course, Dean would kill me if he knew. But it felt good to get it out, not have it bottled up. Dr. Ramirez was great, of course. But she wasn’t Sam. Wasn’t a friend.

However, now that the room was empty apart from me, the only sounds of the air unit and the springs of the old bed creaking, I was left alone with my thoughts. Vivid images of Dean flashed before my eyes. Of purgatory, across the street at work, the alley, my apartment. Damn him. Damn him for abusing me so. Damn him for not caring. Damn him for giving me a false sense of hope when he spared a silver of remorse. And damn me for loving him.

Did I still? No, I didn’t think so. Not the Dean who hates me. Who hurt me and raped me and tormented me. Not that Dean. Perhaps the Dean who loved his little brother beyond comprehension. The Dean who would throw himself in the line of fire for a stranger. The Dean who sacrificed everything for the world, the world that was so cruel to him.

Fuck. Of course I still loved that Dean. It was like two separate fucking people. A Dean who would light up at the sight of pie and tell you everything about a band he liked simply because he wanted to share something he loved with you. A Dean who was so selfless, you would need to make sure he wouldn’t go off and get himself killed for absolutely no reason but to save a fucking dog. He would have one look on his face, and then turn to me. That look would turn cold. Those eyes, those beautiful eyes, would turn to ice in a split second. That voice that dripped of rum and sticky honey tore through my heart like daggers in ice. How could someone be so cruel?

A sob escaped my lips. I was so tired of crying. I hated crying. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand from my good arm. I didn’t want to cry anymore. I didn’t want to think anymore.

Luckily, Sam opened the door then. It made me jump slightly. Castiel was behind him. I grinned.

“Cas.”

“Y/n,” he said warmly. He walked over to the bedside. He rested a hand on my good shoulder. Cas wasn’t one for touchy-feely shit. But with me, he was always more comfortable with it.

“I’m going to heal you,” he said matter-of-factly. I gave him a nod, a light shining from his hand. A warmth filled me, starting from my head and reaching to the tips of my toes, and suddenly I felt better. I gave him a grin, which faltered at the look on his face.

“Cas?” I asked. “What is it?”

He gave a small shake of his head. “It’s… it’s a curse.”

“What is?” Sam questioned. He stood up from his seat at the small table by the window. I glanced at him.

“You have had a curse placed on you. An old one. I’ve seen it before, though. In heaven,” Castiel said. “I’m not sure why I hadn’t seen it before now. Perhaps since I hadn’t had to heal you before.”

“A curse in heaven?” I asked.

“It was designed by the archangels. It was to keep soulmates apart.”

“What?” Sam said. “Soulmates? Surely you’re joking.”

“No, I’m not joking,” Cas said. “And don’t call me Shirley.”

Sam furrowed his brows at that. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“Okay, so a curse. What kind of curse?” I asked. “Who’s my soulmate?”

“The curse is complicated. It can only be placed on one soulmate, and the cursed mate would need to be an interference with a plan from heaven or God himself. ”

“What sort of interference?” Sam asked. Cas hummed.

“Y/n must have stood in the way of her soulmate’s destiny. Her path must cross with them, meaning that she would have altered the path chosen for her mate by heaven. The curse makes it so one of the soulmates hates the other for no particular reason. They can be downright evil towards them. Y/n’s soulmate, if she ever comes across them, may even want to kill her. The curse causes one of the soulmates to do terrible things to the other. They can act one way, and their soulmate walks into the room, suddenly they are filled with an unexplainable rage. There are times where the soulmate can feel remorse or even come to love the one who was cursed. However, the second they lie eyes on the cursed soulmate, their hatred returns.”

Holy fuck.

“If you don’t mind, Y/n,” Cas continued. “Would you mind letting me touch your soul? It should tell me who your soulmate is. I know every path for every human soul. I should be able to see.”

“I… I think I may know who it is,” I said softly. Suddenly my blood ran cold. It felt as if the temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees in a single second. Soulmate may want to kill me. They will hate me. Do terrible things to me. They are suddenly remorseful, but once again turn evil once they lie eyes on me. Fucking hell.

“Who?” Castiel asked. I looked to Sam, who was staring at the ground. I saw it dawn on him, saw the realization flash across his face. His head snapped up to mine.

“Dean.”

***

“Are you fucking joking?”

I flinched at his words. Dean stared- no, glared- at me from his chair. He was chained to a chair in the dungeon. “Precaution” Sam had said. Dean wasn’t too happy with it. I sat in a chair about six feet from him, right outside the devil’s trap. His lip curled into a snarl.

“I’ll fucking kill myself if this bitch is my so called soulmate.”

“I’ve already touched her soul, Dean,” Castiel said. “Just to be sure.”

“Okay? And?” Dean prompted.

“Not only is she cursed, but she’s your soulmate.”

“Fucking hell,” he groaned.

“The archangels placed the curse on her at birth. When they found out she was to be your soulmate, they cursed her in order to keep her from interfering with their plan to have you as Michael’s vessel. If she wasn’t cursed, they foresaw the two of you already together; married and two children.”

My heart ached. I could have had that? Instead, my soulmate had abused, raped, and threatened to kill me on multiple occasions. Great.

“Gag,” Dean said. He spit at the ground towards me. “You told them. You know what would happen if you did. You’re fucking dead.”

“Sam,” I said quietly. I looked up at him. He gently placed a hand at the back of my head in a comforting gesture.

“It’s alright,” he said.

“Now, there is a way to remove the curse. It is painful, and tedious, but it may allow you two to venture forth into a soulmate’s relationship.”

“Fuck that.”

“I can’t.”

Although said at the same time, all eyes turned to me.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Cas asked. Sam sighed.

“Cas, not now.”

“I mean I can’t be with someone who-who was so cruel to me. You don’t know the specifics of purgatory,” I muttered. I squeezed my eyes shut at the thought. My lip threatened to wobble. I sunk my teeth into it. “When this is done, I don’t know if I can be here anymore.”

“Y/n,” Sam said. “When this curse is lifted, the Dean who did those things to you will not exist.”

“It’s true,” Cas said. “The curse alters your soulmate in a way that they’re unrecognizable. It turns their personality completely sour, turning them into a new person. The Dean that will be shown to you when this is over will be the real Dean, the Dean you saw when you weren’t near him. When you’re cursed, it’s like he’s possessed by an alien body.”

“But it’s still his face. His hands. His… everything.” I shuddered.

“That was fun, wasn’t sweetheart?” Dean said. “I still remember how you felt. Tight virgin… Mmmm. Once I’m free of these chains, I may take you again. Maybe I’ll claim your ass this time.

“Enough, Dean!” Sam barked loudly. “Cas.”

“You ready, Y/n?” Castiel asked. I looked up at him, to Dean, and back again.

“Yeah, just one thing first-” I looked at Dean, right in the eye- “Go to hell you son of a bitch.”

Then Castiel’s hands were on the sides of my head, a blinding pain searing behind my eyes, and all I saw was black.

***

“Sam, how am I supposed to live with it?”

“You just do. It wasn’t you. It was the fucking archangels. They did this to her. Not you.”

“It was still… me. I just couldn’t stop it. God, I can’t believe I…”

“Hey. Stop it. I mean it, okay? You beating yourself up with it will not help you in the end. When she wakes up, she’s going to need us. Okay? She’s going to have to re-learn trust and-and love and learn to trust you.”

“If she wants to leave, we need to let her leave. I don’t blame her if she hates me. You heard what she said, Sam. She said she can’t. And I get it. I understand. I don’t want to put her through anymore pain, okay? She needs to live without fear and without pain and suffering. She’s a good, beautiful person inside and out. She didn’t deserve anything I did to her.”

“It wasn’t you!”

“It was, dammit! It was my hands, my body, my fucking words. God, Sam. We may have been cursed, but it was still me. Okay?”

“You heard Cas. It’s like you were possessed. It wasn’t you. Fucking get it through your thick skull.”

“Tell that to her then. If she believes it, I will. This is about her. Not me.”

I could register their conversation. Feel the dull ache in my head. Smell the faint smell of the lavender incense I used to like to burn. The issue was getting my eyes to open.

With heavy lids, I opened my eyes slowly, struggling to keep them open. The brothers stopped talking and I could feel them staring at me. I groaned as I sat up, rubbing at my temple.

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Sam said slowly. “You feeling okay?”

“If you consider feeling like you’ve been hit by a train ‘okay,’” I said. “Fuck.”

I looked up at them both, Sam’s eyes warm and lips curled into a sympathetic smile. I forced myself to look at Dean. His eyes were focused intently on his hands, but I could see his jaw clenched and chest moving quickly as he took rapid breaths. His leg bounced repeatedly. He was nervous?.

He looked up at me finally, taking a deep breath, holding it a moment, before letting it back out. “Hi.”

“Hi,” I replied lowly.

“Should I leave you two alone?” Sam asked.

“No,” I said quickly. Dean winced, but I ignored it. Like hell I would be left alone with him. “Cas did it? The curse is gone?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, yeah it’s gone. Dean um… Dean’s fixed, I guess you could say.”

“Is he?” I asked bitterly.

“Y/n,” he said hesitantly. “I don’t have words. I can’t express how sorry I am.” I looked down at my hands. “There aren’t words to describe the guilt I have. I don’t know what to say or do. I’m just so, so sorry.”

I took a deep breath before responding. “At least I know why I loved you for so long.”

That clearly was not what he was expecting to hear. “W-what?”

“Before purgatory, when things didn’t… escalate… I loved you. I loved the you that wasn’t around me. I thought I was fucked up, loving someone who was so cruel to me. But now I know I couldn’t help it. You’re my soulmate. What are the fucking odds?”

His lip quirked slightly. “I… I loved you too. The me that wasn’t around you. It honestly was like two different… me’s essentially. I loved you, and every time I wasn’t around you, I told myself to apologize and fucking fix myself. But then I’d see you and… this anger just consumed me. I couldn’t understand why. And then in purgatory, being around you 24/7, it’s like everything was heightened. I just wanted to make you hurt.”

I flinched and his face softened.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“No, I want to hear this. I want to understand what you were feeling,” I said. “Maybe it will help me… differentiate you from, you know… cursed you.”

He nodded before continuing. “Like I said, being around you constantly made everything worse. It was like the anger and hatred all heightened. So the night that I… hurt you… I wanted to cause you such profound pain. But I didn’t want to kill you. I think deep down, even cursed, I couldn’t bring myself to kill you. Although the curse hated you, I loved you. You were always so gentle and kind. You’re easily one of the smartest people I know. You’re beautiful and funny and innocent. I fell in love with you, and the curse despised that. It wanted to hurt you. And it did. And for that, I can not apologize enough. What I did… it’s unimaginable. I am so sorry, Y/n.”

We simply sat looking at each other for a moment. Sam sat uncomfortably beside Dean. He glanced between the two of us.

“You’re stressing me out, Sam,” I said finally.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking anywhere but Dean and me.

I cleared my throat and fiddled with the edge of the blanket laid over me. “I… I don’t know what to say, Dean. I really don’t.”

“Don’t say anything, then,” he murmured.

“I want to forgive and forget. Lord do I want to forget. But this isn’t something you can overcome so easily,” I said. “I was so close to being fixed. I was so much better, but you showing up at my apartment and beating the shit out of me like that… it tore down the foundation I had built back up.”

“I had come to apologize,” he said. “And then I saw you and it all went away.”

“I know,” I told him. “It confused the fuck out of me, your fucking mood swing.”

He whistled. “No shit. It confused me.”

We sat in silence for another moment. I wasn’t scared per se, just uncomfortable. If he was “fixed,” I had nothing to fear. I knew I had nothing to fear from Dean now. However, I would never forget the malice and callousness he showed me for years. That night in purgatory was forever seared into my brain. That trauma and heartache and pain would live with me forever. It didn’t matter if he was fixed or cured or whatever the fuck you want to call it. It still happened. It was still at his hands. That’s not something to simply get over.

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said softly. “If someday you somehow find it in your heart to forgive me, then that’s your business. I don’t deserve it and I’m not expecting it. But maybe, if you’ll let us try, to start over, someday we could become friends.”

I swallowed thickly. “I don’t know, Dean.”

I watched his face flash with an emotion I couldn’t quite explain, before masking his emotions. “I understand.”

“Maybe,” I told him. “Don’t bank on it.”

Dean gave me a small smile. “I’m in your hands, Y/n. I’ll be here if you want. And if not, then I respect that.”

I yawned then and Sam stood slowly. “Let’s give her some rest, Dean. She’s had a long week.”

Dean nodded at his brother and gave one last look at me.

“I really am sorry, Y/n. I’ll live with this guilt until the day I die. I hope… I hope you find the happiness and peace you deserve.” He gave me a tight lipped smile and closed the door behind him, evidently taking all weight in the room with him. I let out a deep breath that I had been holding and rubbed at my temples. I laid back onto the pillows, letting my eyes trace designs on the ceiling in the dark of the room.

Sleep found me not long after, and no matter what knowledge I had now, or the safety that was Sam across the hall, I had no control of the nightmares that plagued my dreams and danced behind my eyes. Dean Winchester may have been cured. He may be himself around me now. However, what he did will forever live with me, and no angel cure or spell undoing will ever change that.

And so, I walked through the valley of darkness that were my dreams, and I battled the demons caused by the man who stayed down the hall from me. Yet I slept, knowing that what tormented me behind closed eyes was no longer alive, and the man who had broken through the chains around my heart all those years ago was back and in the foreground. Though I wasn’t sure what my feelings were towards him now, knowing that what he did to me was the result of an archangel curse, I did know that perhaps someday, once we tread through the tumultuous ground that was fear and contradiction, we may learn to live in peace with one another, even if he had loved me and hated me; even if I had loved him and hated him. Yet the most important thing, the thing that allowed me to rest, if not soundly, but at all, was the fact that he no longer wanted me dead, nor did he want my blood on his hands.

So though nothing was back to normal, and I didn’t plan on being around Dean anytime soon, perhaps I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder anymore. Maybe I could finally find the solace and peace that I deserved. I think the world at least owes me that.

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drkcnry67 · 3 years

Text

50 Shades of Winchester 1

title: 50 Shades of Winchester 1

pairing: Dean x reader

rating: 18+

****ANYONE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 WHO READS THIS STORY WILL BE VIOLATING THE LAWS TUMBLR SET IN PLACE. THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT, DRIPPING HOT WAX ON A NAKED FEMALE BODY WHILE SHE IS GAGGED, A ROUGH PUSSY FUCKING AND TO TOP IT OFF THIS WILL BE STUFF OUT OF NIGHTMARES.****

Tags: dripping hot wax onto naked female body, gaging, rough pussy fucking, lip licking, male cock in female pussy, tight virgin pussy,

Kink: wax play

Dark: gags

Created for @spnkinkbingo @spndarkbingo @sweetness47

Kink list dark list

My life was normal, was being the key word. So much has happened that I don't know where to begin... Guess I'll start 2 years ago with this brief but firm explanation of how my life got to where it is now.

It all began when I was asked by my roommate and overall best friend Beth to go in her place to interview the hottest most eligible bachelor in our known society.

She had the flu so naturally I said yes. Not that she would have let me say anything else. I made my way to the next town over to meet this guy. Little did I know that would be the meeting that soon would change my life.

I arrived at his office where we had a casual encounter, I fumbled over my words, he answered 2 questions then emailed Beth the rest of the questions answered in great detail.

That night was the first night I dreamt of dean. I never thought that I would see him the next day.

The day was normal I went to class, then to work. My father is the owner of a hardware store. one of my co workers appeared behind me suddenly asking me to go out front to help bag and there he was. he asked me to help him find some stuff.

i asked hm what he wanted, the first thing he asked for was tape. i told him that we stocked 1in and 2in but that the self respective handy man would have both in his tool box.

the next thing he said he wanted was cable ties, i showed him where those were and told him he was the complete serial killer, but he sinply smiled and said not today.

then he finally said he wanted rope. i went and measured out some rope, he simply stood still and watched me, it was a little un nerving.

at the check out he was polite and curteous. he gave me a business card and told me he was staying at the Heathman and that if my best friend wanted original photos he would be willing to pose for some.

this was how it started, i found myself once again un able to get Dean off my mind. he had just given me his phone number and it was a distaster, for he was so rich how could he possibly find a way to love someone as boring as me.

well obviously he had feelings for you cause he sent you some books. granted he didnt know you already had them, but these ones were first editions.

the next day my other firend and fellow classmate jimmy told me that he had gotten a offer for a art exhibit to showcase his photos. we soon had made plans with our other friends to go celebrate.

now to that scene we now going....

Beth: alright shots, we need shots, bartender tequila shots all round and keep them coming.

you all did shot after shot and finally after a while you felt the urge to get up to go pee. you told beth where you were going then jimmy stopped you as you staggered getting off your chair, but you told him you had to pee, he released you.

as you stood in line for the washroom, you starred intently at Dean’s number trying to convince yourself first to delete him, then realizing that your own self wont let you delete the number of that gorgeous hunk. you decided to call him.

dean is sitting at his desk looking at some papers when his phone rings. he looks at the caller ID and answers almost immediately.

dean: YN

YN: hey im calling to tell you that i will be sending back your expensive books, i already have copies of those ones... and tho i appreciate the gesture i didnt..

you kinda slurred your words trying to sound all professional ish, but dean also could hear something off in the background too.

dean: YN where are you right now?

YN: oh im in line cause i have to pee really really badly.

dean: YN have you been drinking...

YN: yes i have mr fancy pants cant make up my mind on what he wants hunky dude.

dean now completely turned on yet completely frustrated speaks once more to try and get a straight answer out of the drunk YN.

dean: tell me where you are.

YN: i dont have to tell you...

you hung up the phone and instantly think he will leave you alone. you continue tot wait for the bathroom and then your phone rings its dean.

YN: dean, listen im so...

dean: stay there im coming to get you.

that was it, that was all that was said, the line had gone dead. you were now deeply afraid, worried and scared of what would come next. you went back to where beth and jimmy were sitting grabbed your sweater and went to stand outside in the cool air trying to cool off.

jimmy had followed you... he brought you his jacket and stood beside you.

jimmy: you okay

YN: yes, i am just feeling a bit more drunk than...

jimmy: i dont know when i will have the courage to do this...

YN: do what?

jimmy: YN

YN: no

jimmy: i like you

YN: you do?

jimmy: very much

YN: oh. my. god.

jimmy: one kiss please... just one kiss.

YN: no no no, jimmy, no, i dont... im sorry. no

thats when your savior had arrived in the form of dean... dean immediately pushed jimmy off of you.

dean: dude back the fuck off, she said no

YN: dean...

before you could say anything else you bent over and threw up on his shoes... dean was quick to rub small circles into your back and hand you a hankie. dean stayed by your side the entire time you were throwing up, he kept one hand on the small of your back.

To which you took and simply complimented his quick timing.

dean: lets get you home

YN: but im with beth

dean: don't worry YN, ill have sam tell her

YN: wait wait who's sam

dean: he's my brother. he's inside talking to her right now

YN: how... i dont...

dean: he is at my hotel with me

yn: your still at the heathman

dean: yes. i couldnt leave yet, not till i knew you more. come.

dean leads you through the club where you see beth dancing with a guy who you presume is Sam as dean goes over to speak with him very quickly...

dean approaches you again and tries to usher you out but not before some words were spoken.

YN: That’s your brother?

dean: Not by choice. Let’s go.

YN: Wait what did Beth say?

dean: She warned me to be on my best behavior. More like threatened me.

you laugh as you stare at dean, now realizing he might be serious but you also knew your best friend and how she was with you.

YN: She threatened you? like was she...

dean notices a change in your demenor...

YN: whoa, the room, your spinning...

dean: oh, what...

YN: i think... im gonna... faint

dean: what now

twas a good thing dean was already so close to your form otherwise you might have been seriously hurt in the faint. but he got you to his car and back to the hotel.

he took your shirt jacket, pants and shoes you were wearing off of you as they were covered in vomit. and stuck you in something more suitable for sleeping.

he had a glass of whiskey first before he crawled in to sleep on the other side of the bed.

you woke up the next morning sat straight up and looked around. to see a glass that said DRINK ME... and a few pills that said EAT ME...

this was that you did, you also checked out what you were wearing have no recollection of what happened.

Yn: what the fuck happened... I mean this is... this is... not my apartment...

you listened to the sound of a key card sliding... the door opened and you watched dean walk inside.

dean: good morning YN. how are you feeling?

Yn: better than i deserve. wait, whoa, did you put me to bed?

dean: mm hmm

YN: you undressed me?

dean: you didnt leave me much choice, you were

YN: where did you sleep.

dean points to the bed next to you, your mind starts to raise your panic levels

YN: oh, my god. did we...? we didnt...?

dean: necrophilia isnt my thing. besides you would be wearing way less if that had happened.

YN: So we just slept then?

dean: It was a novelty for me too.

dean goes over to her and gives her some toast

dean: You…need to eat. I had Arthur pick you up some clothes.

yn: Who’s arthur?

dean: My driver.

yn: Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.

dean: Yes, I did. Yours were covered in vomit. You shouldn’t get drunk like that. I’m all for testing the limits, but you put yourself at risk last night.

yn: I know. i may have gotten a bit carried away, but wait a second why bring me here if i have a place of my own with Beth ... god she must be so worried about me...

dean: im sure my brother Sam has taken amazing care of your best friend.

dean hands you some toast, tells you that you need to eat, but then he takes off his shirt and makes his way slowly toward you.

dean: if you were mine you wouldnt be able to sit for a week.

dean now sits opposite of you on the bed.

YN: what are you talking about...?

dean takes a bite of your toast and speaks once more.

dean: i have to take a shower.

dean gets up and walks toward the bathroom when you pipe up.

YN: why am i here, dean?

dean stands now by the bathroom door.

dean: you're here cause i find i am incapable of leaving you alone.

YN: so dont, why did you send me those books.

dean: i thought i owed you an apology.

yn: for what?

dean kinda chuckled at your sudden spring of confusion, but he thought it was kinda cute

dean: for letting you believe that i didnt... listen to me...

dean comes to sit next to you once again.

dean: i dont do romance. my tastes are extremely singlular... you wouldnt understand.

YN: then explain it to me... im listening...

dean instead of saying anything just leans down to place a touch to your face and walks into the bathroom. you get up off the bed and get dressed into the clothes that Arthur had gotten for you.

dean came out of the bathroom and smiled.

dean: you look beautiful

YN: arthur has good taste.

dean takes a brief moment to glance you over once more as you stand there next to him.

dean: What are you doing later?

YN: I’m working at the hardware store till seven.

dean: I’ll have Arthur pick you up then.

yn bites her lip and looks down, only to have dean lift her face up by her chin to meet his gaze.

dean: I’d really like to bite that lip.

yn: I think I’d like that too.

dean: I’m not gonna touch you, not until I have your written consent. and thats a promise.

YN: What?

you were royally confused but brushed it off as tiredness. you didnt know how to react to something that could possibly just be something you were dreaming up in your mind.

dean: I’ll explain later. Come, I’ll take you home.

dean and YN enter the elevator, he sees YN bite her lip again. he feels his restraint lessening as he watched you biting your lip.

dean: you know what screw it, Fuck the paperwork.

he suddenly takes a hold of yn and kisses her passionately, just as they are getting into it the elevator doors open and a group of business men enter, dean looks at yn both smiling and straightening out.

dean: What is it about elevators?

the elevator landed on the floor and you both went into the car and were headed back to yours and beths place. a surprise was awaiting for you and dean when you would both walk inside

arriving you and dean were casually chatting as dean walked with you inside... you both were very surprised as you both walked in on his brother with your best friend naked on the couch.

they both immediately tried to cover up and act normal ish when they looked at both you and dean.

Sam: Hey.

YN: Hey.

Sam: Hi, you must be yn.

they shake hands, after sam finds some cover but dean also makes his rounds of scanning the looks around the room while making sure you were comfortable.

yn: You must be sam.

dean: And we must be going, sam

to YN sam had to say some words, but so did dean...

sam: So awesome to meet you. beth’s told me a lot about you.

dean: sam, find your shoes. Some of us have work to attend to.

sam: What are you doing with Mr. Warmth here, I have no idea.

you smile as you turn to look at dean who is slightly smiling but also is scowling at his brother.

You and dean watch uncomfortably as sam kisses Beth goodbye

Sam: Laters, baby.

Sam walks out of the apartment; to you dean turns and steps in close to your form, the closeness and intimacy super appealing to you.

dean: I’ll see you tonight. Email me if something changes.

YN: My computer’s broken. so i wouldnt be able to email...

dean: Well call then, you know you have my number. by the way, you need to let yourself be loose, all this tension isnt good for anyone.

he touches her face almost to kiss her but instead spoke.

dean: Laters, baby.

dean leaves, you turned to face beth left breathless by the moments of recent with dean

yn: sam seems really nice. and you seen really happy.

you laugh knowing that beth would try to detour back to you.

beth: No, no. We’re starting with you. If you’re seeing him again tonight, that means that something happened. yn?

yn avoids answering and starts to walk away

yn: I have to get ready for work.

you both laugh, you went through the mail shortly and answered the question briefly

yn: We just kissed. Once.

beth: Only once? That’s odd. but this is you we are talking about here.

yn: Mm. trust me beth, Odd doesn’t even cover it. and plus maybe i have opened up a new branch of my life...

beth: Uh-huh.

yn turns and starts walking to her room

Kate: And a new jacket. Hm. well at least we are both happy as can be now...

you start getting ready for work, you make it to work, all through your shift all you could think about was dean, his eyes, his lips, his touch, his well everything. geez you were so whipped for this billionaire bachelor.

the end of your shift now arrived, you left your work place bag in hand as you approached a man standing by a car.

YN: arthur?

Arthur: good evening miss.... mr winchester will be joining us there. its pleasent to meet you formally miss.

yn: as it is you Arthur.

you are politely ushered into the car and driven by Arthur to a building where dean was standing next to his helicoptor. getting out of the car you were staring at the man who looked and spoke as though he were a different person, a god if you will.

dean: good evening YN, hope work was pleasent.

yn: yes it was fine thank you.

dean: good yes good come lets get inside.

dean opens the door to the helicoptor, you get inside while dean gets into the pilot seat.

YN: wait wait whoa, time out are you gonna fly this?

dean: yes i am, there's no escaping for you now. just stay in your seat and enjoy the ride...

dean puts on a headset and into the radio he gets ready for take off.

dean: November 1-2-2-4. Charlie Tango. Ready to depart.

with that he stole a slight glance at your expression change at his words. his mind swimming with the new feelings churning inside him, it was like he had been whacked by a stick or something.

dean was very confused by this feeling that he was feeling, he couldnt describe it. he knew out of all the women he had been with in his way, well he could tell you were different. you were gonna be someone who could possibly save him.

Control Center: Roger that, Charlie Tango. Your flight plan from Portland to Seattle is cleared.

You turned to look slightly at dean as you spoke once more.

YN: seattle? thats where we are going? really? oh my god, this is officially the best day ever.

dean: okay, here we go...

you stayed still and looked out the window as the helicoptor lifted off the ground. you were watching the world below fly slowly by, it was the most fun you had had in years.

upon arrival on a helicopter pad in seattle dean let you out and walked with you into the building, a short elevator ride later and you were inside his penthouse.

dean offered you a drink and you accepted as you looked around. a short while later he was sitting with you at a table and having you sign a non disclosure agreement.

YN: i would never talk about us anyway.

dean: im sorry about this anyway but im afraid my people insist on you signing this... to avoid any unplesentness in case of emergency or whatever later down the road.. plus it will grant you immunity from anything the press might try to do...

YN: and as i said...

you didnt need any moments to read the non disclosure agreement. it was pretty straight forward for what Dean had said. you signed it immeidately...

YN: are you going to make love to me now?

Dean straightened up and locked eyes with you as he spoke.

Dean: first of all, yn i have to tell you that i don't make love, i fuck hard... second of all, come there is something i want to show you...

you were intrgued but curious so you were waiting for the other shoe to drop... with guys like Dean there was always another shoe... something worse or less appealing about them that would possibly make you not love him.

dean led you up the spiral staircase and to the first room on the left. it was a locked door, dean stopped at the door and turned to face you.

Dean: through this door, is a life changer, a choice, one i cant make for you... but you would have the option to reject and we wouldnt have any kind of relationship at all. when you see this you may have a bunch of emotions come up, but something tells me that you will be fine in a bit once your head stops over thinking..

dean unlocks the door and steps aside so you can open the door. you walk inside as dean comes up behind you to turn on the light... what you saw made you stop in your tracks..

the room lined with red walls and red flooring also lined with bdsm stuff, floggers, rope, chains, whips, other such items. the shock visible as day across your face. you walked around and touched one of the floggers.

dean: its called a flogger

you walk slightly to touch another item.

dean: YN please say something, i need to know what you are thinking. i cant read your expressios or your mind.

you move toward another item, you motion to touch another item but stop and decide to speak instead.

YN: do you do this to women or do you... do you rape them?

Dean: i do this to women, with women, women who want me to... no its not rape its mere coincidence.

YN: but why, why would you do this, why on all the earth would make this so appealing to you,

Dean: for my pleasure, and for yours...

Yn: so your a saddist, just my luck I find a semi decent guy and he turns out to be a saddist... Damn it.

Dean: I'm not a saddist, I'm a dominant actually... Believe me there is a difference!

Yn: so why would you want to use this stuff at all...

Dean: cause it pleases me and it pleases women... Come..

He extends his hand to you leading you out of the playroom and down the hall to another room.

Dean: if you agree to be mine. This is where you would sleep Friday through to Sunday!!

Both of you going downstairs again to the table where an envelope sat there all nice looking.

dean: this is a contract over the course of the next little while I would like you to read it carefully, and use Google... It will help you in your understanding.

You kinda looked at dean a little confused...

Yn: and what understanding is that..

dean: well when you've had sex was there anything that you didn't like doing or having done...

Yn: I wouldn't know, I've never done anything...

dean: you're a virgin, I just poured my biggest secret out to you...

dean comes up to your form and cups your cheek...

dean: come with me we will rectify the situation!!! I've got some gentle tools to help this...

You take dean's hand which he extended to you and walk with him..

Yn: wait I'm a situation...

dean: yep and one that I can't wait to open up and solve... Now that we have arrived in the bedroom, I want you to stand at the edge of the bed near us and just stand still...

dean: ready for some more fun…

Yn: i figured you would have been tired…

dean gets up from the bed, lights a candle and grabs something that resembles a collar from the drawer in the nightstand. He comes back to face you…

dean: its called a ball gag… you stick it in your mouth, the ball i mean and i do it up, then you cant talk but you can moan and scream.

You were very very confused… but at the same time felt a little curious…

Yn: whats the candle for?

dean: the wax that the candle creates will be dripped slowly onto your body it makes for very very sensual gameplay… if your willing to try this… i dont want to force you into something you dont want to do.

You had to think about it, you were not sure how it would look if you said no, but you were at the same time no longer a virgin so why not you wanted to have a bit of fun… if dean was saying this would be timid, then you felt the need to trust him…

Yn: lets give this a try… but is it gonna hurt…

dean: its completely gentle… the wax will feel a little funky at first but where i drip the wax is gonna be a magnified feeling way more magnified than when i took your virginity…

Yn: ok… but promise me that it will go gentle and i will be good…

dean: i promise… now lay on your back and stay very still…

dean waits for you to sort yourself out, you lay on your back, hands by your sides and head flat on the pillow.

dean: I can feel you trembling. Your nervous.

Yn: maybe a little.

dean: all will be fine…

You kinda settled and let dean begin. dean placed the ball gag in your mouth, he did up the gag and took the candle in his hand.

He slowly started to tip the candle over your body, started at your neckline, moving slowly down to your breasts dripping wax on your nipples, you kinda squirmed but the moaning ensued.

You moaned, feeling the wax as it was slowly poured on your body… dean emitted a low growl as he arrived at your pussy, he waited a few moments before spreading your legs and pouring the hot wax on your pussy.

dean: I love how much you try to relax… you are the only one who has never squirmed the entire time…

You gagged against the ball as you went to speak…

dean: let me remove that so I can hear your replies

dean removed the gag and you coughed a bit…

Yn: take me again, the wax it feels so good, I want you more

dean put down the candle and came to you once more a ravenous hunger as his lips pressed yours once more.

dean went in again, he slid his hard cock into your pussy again… pounding you for another hour more…

he waited for you to fall asleep and then he went downstairs to have a drink allowing you to sleep and ponder what may lay ahead.

dean: I did things out of order, I don't know what has come over me but she drives me to do things that I normally wouldn't… why is she so different… why does she make me want more than this… why are my feelings coming to the surface… I feel different like I've changed, like she is my beginning.

To be continued...

#spnkinkbingo #spndarkbingo

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deansmultitudes · 3 years

Text

enough // abaddon x bela; Explicit // 0,7k // beta’d by @fpwoper ♥ // AO3

written for @spndarkbingo square ‘murder’ and challenge square ‘friends with benefits’ // @spnladiesbingo square ‘bela talbot’

warnings: sexual content, murder, references to torture

It’s damn hot down under the fluffy white layers of chiffon and silk. But it’s nothing compared to having your face molten off piece by piece in the pit, and Abaddon’s pleasured moans make a little sweat all worth it. They’re Bela’s second favorite sound after Abaddon’s maniacal laughter, after all.

Giving her ecstasy, giving her delight—no kind of torture could bring Bela this sort of thrill. It’s a dangerous game, staying at Abaddon’s side, crossing the country back and forth chasing after another big thing, another masterful chess move that will bring her queen closer to taking her rightful throne.

But Bela wouldn’t want to play any other kind of game. She’s just where she wants to be. Not in Hell, carving into dead schmucks ad nauseam, not bunking in filthy motel rooms hiding from the current ruler’s sloppy henchmen, or hunters, or both.

There are only two hunters in this world she wants to face, and she knows she’ll face them soon. With reluctance she has to admit, with their life-long lucky strike and their skills, they’d ice her as soon as she’d say hello.

Their reckoning will happen; they’re the ones who let her die and get dragged to the pit. Or maybe she should be thanking them? She’s so much more now than she was; both in powers and in mind. Turns out what kills you can make you stronger, too.

With Abaddon and her army, they’ll be unstoppable. No Crowley, no Winchesters will be able to take them down. It’s the boys that will go down, all the way down, back to the pit, back on the rack, for good, until their eyes turn black too. Heaven won’t help them this time.

Patience, Abaddon told her when she made her that promise. But Bela doesn’t need patience. She’s enjoying the road there, every step of it. She’s with her. Wreaking havoc together, sowing mayhem together; watching the world burn at their hands.

One’d say they’re something of a Bonnie and Clyde.

No, they’re not in love. Because demons don’t love, they don’t know how to. Some of them might still remember, if they were unlucky enough to taste it in life and hold on to it on the rack for as long as they could (it never lasted too long).

In her short life, Bela never had a chance to love anything other than money. What point was there if she had always been doomed? The little girl freed from one hell, on her way to another, always scared, always on the run, never fast enough to escape. She could never love in life, she cannot be loved in death.

So, no, they’re not lovers.

If Abaddon was someone you could call a friend, they’d be fuck-buddies. Vulgar, but fitting, somewhat. In the hot tubs of five-star hotel rooms and on the passenger seats of luxury cars. In every state, under the starry sky. In a changing stall of a deadly quiet wedding salon.

What can she say? Abaddon has a flair for dramatics. Gets bored easily, too, and Bela is there to entertain. First, sharp nails to throats, tearing out last gasps, putting red accents on the gowns no bride will ever wear. Then, Bela’s soft tongue draws other kinds of sounds from Abaddon’s mouth, bends her spine, makes her toes curl in her pretty, diamond-studded sandals.

Even as Bela gets up from her knees, she’s still ensnared in her devotion. She follows as Abaddon treads among the bodies scattered on the floor, blood soaking into the carpets: of the sale assistants and tailors, of brides-never-to-be and their suites of bridesmaids, frozen in their youthful beauty until their corpses begin to rot.

Even murder she has turned into art.

There’s not gonna be a wedding, but Abaddon keeps the dress and the sandals too, just because she can. Demons don’t have souls and hearts to pledge, don’t have lives for death to do them part. Demons can’t love, they can only crave and kill and fuck.

But as long as Abaddon keeps her, too, is that not enough?

tag list: @cr-noble-writes @malmuses @deanirae @petrichoravellichor also @wardinpanties (in case you’re interested ^.^)

If you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know

#spndarkbingo #abaddon #bela talbot #abaddon x bela #spn fanfic #my writing #enough

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jawritter · 3 years

Text

The Fine Line Between Love And Hate

Summary: You love the man he was, not the man he is now, so why does he still affect you this way.

Rating: Explicit

Created For: @spndarkbingo

Square Field: Hatred

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

Pairing: Michael!Dean Winchester x Reader

World Count: 1597

Warnings: Hatred, obviously lol. Smut, unprotected sex, slight breading kink, some knife play, blood, spn level gore, bondage, blood, language, I think that’s it.

A/N: This is actually my first time writing Michael!Dean, lol. So go easy on me y’all. Please do not copy my work!! Feedback is golden!

**MASTERLIST** ~ **BECOME A PATREON**

The first thing you are aware of is the throbbing headache that radiates through your skull, all the way down to the back of your neck. The more alert you become, the more you realize that there are thick, heavy chains holding your arms above your head The chains are tied to a pole in the center of what looked to be an old, abandoned church.

The only thing you could think about through the pain that seemed to be seeping into your brain, and fogging your judgements, was to test the stability of your restraints. Pulling on the chains with all your might, you let out a huff of frustration when they didn’t give at all, staying secured tightly to the pole.

From the corner of the room you couldn’t see, a deep chuckle resounded from the throat of the man you once loved. Micheal walked around to where you could see him, adorning your boyfriend's meat suit that he’d prettied up in a suit, and a butcher's apron.

“Glad to see you decided to join us, Y/N. I was just beginning to worry I’d struck you too hard back there. Your kind is so fragile after all.”

You swallowed down the bile that rose in your throat at the sounds of Dean’s smooth, deep trimble, and glared at the face of the man that you loved so much. The man that was so familiar, yet so foreign all at the same time. He may have looked like Dean, but everything about him screamed that he wasn’t Dean. From the tone of his voice, to his wide eyes, all the way down his well dressed body, to his tall and proud stance.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like the look?” he chided in what was intended to be a playful manner, but it did nothing but make your blood boil. “I personally think Dean here cleans up pretty good for a human.”

You said nothing, just maintained eye contact with the pale green eyes that were staring into yours. You were trying to find any sign, any little thing that said Dean was still in there, still alive, but so far all you could see was a blank, empty canvas of what your boyfriend once was. That spark that only Dean carried had been snuffed out by the arch angel that was wearing his body, and it made you, if possible, even sicker to see it.

“Not much of a talker are we? That’s funny, because you were always pretty boisterous in the bedroom with Dean here,” he said with a sneer that made you shiver against the cold draft drafting that flowed through the holes that littered the walls of the old church.

“Fuck you, Micheal,” you spat, venum thick in your voice, but the angel didn’t seem to notice or care. “You lied! You lied to Dean, and I’m going to figure out a way to get you out of him. He doesn’t belong to you!”

Micheal threw Dean’s head back in a humorless laugh, picking up a large knife off the table that stood in front of the altar, eyeing it curiously as he twisted the blade between two fingers, before cold dead eyes met your gaze again.

“He’s still in here you know, screaming for me to let you go,” Micheal said, making lazy strides over to where you were chained, running the cold blade of the knife down your collar bone, leaving a thin red line in its wake that stung as blood started to trail down your bare body. “He’s normally pretty content on his little hamster wheel of a reality I’ve created for him, but as soon as he heard your voice back at that hotel he started clawing at the cage.”

Micheal’s gaze followed the red liquid as it made it’s decent over your breast, and down your stomach. The wound wasn’t deep enough to kill you, or cause you to bleed to death. It was only intended to scare you, but you were past fear. It no longer existed in your way of thinking. The only thing you could feel as you stared at Micheal was pure, white hot hate.

“So let me go,” you tell him coldly. “Maybe then he will settle down for you again.”

If you could just get some backup, you’d try and take this mother fucker down, but you had to do it without hurting Dean, and that was the part that would be tricky.

“Oh no. You see, Dean in here, he misses you, craves you even. Even though he’s usually pretty happy, his body still longs for yours. Like you're connected on a level that was never established in my world. If I’m going to bring purity and order to this world, I need to understand this connection.”

Micheal stepped closer to you, running a finger through your clevage and the trail of blood there as he stopped. Your body shivered at the contact of Dean’s skin against your own. Even though your mind knew it was not your Dean, your body didn’t seem to care.It just craved the warmth of the man you’d been missing.

“I’ve got to say, the control that sex can give you seems quite intising. Especially when it’s laced with so much loathing. I feel it coming off of you right now.”

Pressing the sharp tip of the knife against your skin, he cut a small knick right above your pulsepoint, then licked the little beads of blood away with his warm tongue.

You had to bite back the moan that almost slipped past your defenses as your thighs tightened on their own in search of friction against the frustration building in your core as his teeth grazed your throat, leaving a smeared blood trail in his wake.

You pulled against the restraints as your pulse quickened with each new little cut he made over the top of your breast, letting the blood trail down over your nipples, before his fingers twisted and twerked them, getting them to stand at full attention.Your cunt throbbed with each twerk of Dean’s fingers against your sensitive flesh, and slick gathered uncomfortably at your thighs under his administration. Your body was calling out to the man you loved, but you hated the one controlling him more than anything you had ever killed as a hunter.

When he was fully satisfied with his work, he sat the knife down beside him, and started to strip away the crisp suit he was adorning on Dean’s solid body, each layer falling to the floor, as his eyes raked over bare skin that was blood stained, sweat glistening lightly in the dim light from the candles he had lit around the old decrepit sanctuary. You hated the way your body seemed to be screaming for him, begging for him to touch you like he used to, stretch you out in a way only Dean could.

“Dean’s enjoying this you know.You should just sit back and do the same,” Micheal said, stroking Dean’s length as he stepped up to where you were standing, kicking your legs apart with his feet as he slipped the tip of Dean’s leaking tip through your dripping folds.

“I hate you,” you spat at him, but Micheal seemed unfazed, filling you up in one harsh thrust to the brim and making you both groan at the feeling of Dean’s body filling your own, your walls already fluttering around his greedily.

“Oh Y/N,” Micheal said. Dean’s voice strained the way he used to when you were together this way, as he held himself still for a moment. “There’s such a fine line between love and hate. Your lips say you hate this, but that greedy little pussy of yours,” pulling out almost all the way, he slammed back in, “begs to differ.”

He was right, and he knew it.There was nothing you could say to disagree with him when he was buried so deep inside of your body, pounding into you at a relentless pace, sweat mixing with blood and your back scraping against the pole you were tied to. Dean’s length hit all the right places, like he’d done so many times before.

Every cell in your body seemed to be vibrating with each pass of his manhood through your heat, and when your orgasm washed over the both of you, all hate was forgotten for a moment.All that remained, was the bliss that washed over you in waves as Micheal spilled his seed deep inside of your womb. Dean’s lips smirked as you fell apart around his length.

Micheal’s mind taunted the man trapped in his head. Dean screamed over and over again. He was thinking of what the two of you had just created that would help him take over the world. You may never love Micheal, and he knew that, but you loved Dean and he’d use that until your job was done. Then he’d kill you, just like he was going to kill everyone his father ever created with his own son at his side. He’d then be God.

Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @Waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @softsebastian @tatted-trina6 @deanmonandnegansbitch @hayleeharling @flamencodiva @coldmuffinbanditshoe @bxbyizzy @dirty-pan-goblin @itmejado @supernatural3002 @teresa-67 @thoughts-and-funnies @hearteyes-j2 @miss-nerd95

#spndarkbingo #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #michael!dean winchester #michael!dean winchester x reader #michael!dean winchester smut #dean winchester smut #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn smut #jensen ackles #the fine line between love and hate #jawritter #x reader inserts

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jackandthesoulmates · 3 years

Text

Sun and Moon and Samuel

Author: jackandthesoulmates / tintentrinkerin

Title: Sun and Moon and Samuel

Created for @spnkinkbingo and @spndarkbingo

Square filled: anal sex (kink bingo), dark magic (dark bingo)

Pairing: onesided Samjack, implied unrequited Deansam,

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: non con, somnophilia, dark!jack, dark magic, POV: perpetrator, coming untouched, dead dove: do not eat!

Word count: 1956

Sometimes Sam falls asleep in the most uncomfortable poses and places. His head would sink on the desk in the library, he passes out in the passenger seat of the Impala. Sometimes he drops like dead weight on the bed in a shabby old motel, fully clothed, not even slipping out of his shoes.

Jack doesn’t sleep much. It’s hard for him to relax when needed. The ritual of sleep is weird to him. People go to bed for that. As soon as it’s dark outside, the sun has set, some people shower. Dean does. Sam showers in the morning. Castiel has no sense of night and day, sleeping or being awake. Humans, they brush their teeth, undress, then put on their pajama’s go to bed. Sam reads until he falls asleep. Dean listens to classic rock. And Jack? Jack sleeps maybe an hour or two. He doesn’t dream. At least not anymore since he burned his whole soul away.

Did the snake sleep, before Jack gave it salvation?

To Jack, sleeping feels like being unconscious for a while and then just to wake up to realize it’s 3 o’clock in the morning and no one is awake but him. Nothing stirs. The bunker is pitch black and silent like a grave. Well, sometimes Dean can’t sleep and when Jack is on one of his nightly tours through the halls, he is tempted to sit by him, maybe ask him for a sip of whiskey, but he is never really sure about Dean. If Dean wants to protect or kill him. Jack is not afraid. He’s afraid of nothing anymore. He’s like the skeleton of a whale who died on the shore somewhere far away and the sea has washed away his flesh, his organs, his life. All that’s left is bleak white bones, a hollow rib cage where birds nest in spring after a successful mating season.

The only thing that really catches Jack’s attention is Sam and his habits. Oh, Sam.

When he still had his soul, Jack would say, he had a major crush on him. His heart would jump, his palms sweat, he would feel dizzy when they touched. Oh, how much he had loved it. Now, all of this is gone. It’s become a habit for Jack to study Sam. To find out who he really is. Deep down, under all these layers of sass, wisdom and his caring nature. There has to be more. There is always more to it, Jack must know. If there hadn’t been more to himself than being the offspring of Lucifer, he wouldn’t feel so hollow now. Something was taken from him and he wouldn’t miss it if it hadn’t been there in the first place. He tries imitating himself, but it’s like putting on a mask that doesn’t quite fit.

He clings onto the faint imprint of a romantic crush he felt for Sam. Something that had kept him absent-minded and focused at the same time. Falling back in love with him - Jack knows it won’t work but he tries anyway.

Sam looks like an old oil painting when he sleeps. Jack would stand in his door for hours and just watch him shift and turn in his sheets. He sleeps naked and Jack is oddly fascinated about Sam’s noises, his dreams, the gasps and most of all, how his cock grows hard and then softens again, without Sam doing anything about it. Sometimes he would reach down to stroke himself once or twice in a short moment of waking, but he never does more. Sam’s sheets would always be pushed to the side. Sam needs it chill to sleep. Jack knows his habits by now.

What he can’t ignore, is how his own body responds to what he sees. To Sam’s face, that switches from relaxed to twisted. In pleasure or pain, Jack can’t tell. Sam calls out in his sleep. Dad, Mary, Dean. Cas. No. Adam. Leave me. Dean. Don’t do that. Help me, Dean! Please. Lucifer. Jess!

Jack is so curious. He could make it easy and crack Sam’s mind open like a freshly laid egg. He could put his fingers in Sam’s psyche and stir it all up. He could dive his whole face inside this ocean of nightmares and hazy prophecies. What keeps him from doing it? He doesn’t want to see Sam broken. He wants Sam to be the way he is.

Tonight is different. Like always, he stands in the open door, his eyes glowing and seeing Sam lying on his belly, his hips gently rocking in the mattress. There’s one of these moans, so vulnerable, so needy at the same time. Mumbled names and hands clenching in the sheets. Jack gulps when he finally stirs again and sneaks in the room. The faint lights from the hallway lighten his way. Jack hasn’t bothered putting his pajama’s on, he’s just in black briefs.

Underneath, he’s throbbing and twitching at the sight of Sam’s muscular body and his perfect ass. Sam’s still gently humping the mattress, blanket wrapped around his stomach. Jack slides beside him in Sam’s bed.

“What… no, who do you dream of, Sam?”, Jack whispers.

Sam only sighs, his strong hand is fisting the pillow. Jack’s eyes glow golden now, the lights outside flicker and dim down a little. It’s not that he uses the magic on purpose. It’s like breathing. This is why Dean sometimes looks like he wants to strangle him. Make him stop.

There’s a whisper, not more like a loud drawing of breath first but then there’s a word, a response to his question.

“Dean.”

Of course, it has to be him. It’s always him. Jack wraps one arm around Sam. He doesn’t resist, he’s pliant. Damn, warm skin, musky smell. A little bit of sweat and beer, his perfume. A smell that stabs straight-up to Jack’s crotch. He kicks out of it, presses himself against Sam’s back. Jack holds him tight, eyes still glowing. Sam starts shifting, his conscience wakes, Jack can feel it.

“Shh, it’s okay, Sammy, sleep,” Jack says in a Dean-voice.

Magic tingles in his insides, fill him up, and makes him feel better. Powerful. He rubs against that hot and welcoming body of Sam. It’s thrilling that he is asleep. When Jack tries to picture doing this with his caretaker, this doesn’t feel as good as now. Sam’s responsive, he even presses his ass against Jack with a deep and shaky sigh. But he is at Jack's mercy, he's helpless. Weak. A strong person like Sam, the hunter. Always struggling for control, who's afraid of change and shies away from intimacy; oh, Sam. Strong as a tree and a force to be reckoned with. All of that is stripped away in his sleep. Jack loves to see him that vulnerable, so pure. Sam's shifting, moaning, and his other sweet noises make Jack's cock grow harder and harder. He shyly reaches for Sam's cock, just to find out, he's hard as well. Incredibly thick and long, it looks still insanely big in Jack's bare hand. A few gentle and soft strokes and Sam whimpers, his eyebrows furrow, his lips part. His tongue flickers over his upper lip and then there's this moan. Again. A moan. A name. Full of longing. And Jack's magic works wonders, Sam arches and Jack jerks him hard now, buries his face on Sam's neck, and whines softly himself.

“Yes, like that, Sammy… just like that”, Jack whispers, his voice trembling in pleasure.

Maybe it's because he is asleep, but Sam cums just early with a few long, broken moans all over Jack's hand.

He needs to be quick now, hurry! Jack catches every drop of Sam's cum to cover his cock with it. He needs to feel Sam's insides around him, clenching his cock. He wants to feel his cock rub in Sam's insides and tear apart what keeps Sam together. He wants total surrender. Feel him raw, chase an orgasm and fill him up. Just this one time…

“Dean, don't…”, Sam mutters.

His eyelids flutter slightly. Is he about to wake up? Oh, please no. No no no! Don't ruin it now, Sam! The air around them starts crackling when Jack works magic upon Sam.

“It's okay, Sammy, it's all good. I'm here.”

Sam's eyes fall shut again and Jack breathes out heavily. The tip of his cock presses against Sam's anus and he pushes in. Slowly. Jack hisses at the sensation, the tightness, the hot surroundings. Sam groans and whines, his hand grabs Jack's. It’s a strong grip like someone drowning or falling trying to hold on to someone else. It’s a good feeling. Sam is dependent on Jack now, not the other way around. Jack gives. He can give, he can control, he can create or destroy and there’s no one in this bunker to stop him. Sam won’t, most of all. His sleeping body moves as a response to Jack’s thrusts. He holds his lover tight, because that’s what you call someone you have sex with, right? He lifts Sam’s upper leg and pulls it close to his own body, pushes in deeper. Sam’s silky insides feel so good, so incredibly good. Why did he reject Jack all the time, when it feels so divine? The angle shifts, and Sam suddenly arches, his fingernails dig in Jack’s arm and the leg that Jack hiked up to fuck him deeper kicks helplessly and Sam cums again, this time untouched.

Sam is sobbing in his muzzy state, it’s a thin line from pleasure to pain. But this sob is enough for Jack to lose it. With a growl and a strong bite, - that will leave a mark - Jack cums inside Sam, pumps his seed inside his ass, fills him up. The feeling is so overwhelming, fulfilling, he can’t see or breathe for a moment, all he does is still ram his twitching cock inside Sam until the waves of his orgasms finally break and calm down.

Jack is covered in sweat now, breathing heavily, his nose pressed in Sam’s neck. As he lets go of Sam’s leg, he immediately crawls up in a sleeping position again. Muffled sob’s, muffled Dean’s.

Jack wants to tear Sam apart for thinking of his brother, why was he better? Why couldn’t Sam like Jack? He just gave him so much pleasure!

There’s a cold flame of rage burning in his stomach when he gets up and gets back in his briefs with shaky legs.

The noise. The gasp.

“What the fuck, Jack?”

Jack feels a sudden hot terror driving down his spine and when he turns around, there’s Dean in the doorframe. His nostrils flaring.

“What. Have. You. Done. To. Him?!”

It’s no surprise when Dean slams Jack against a wall, a hand on his throat, a knife poking the fabric of his underwear.

Jack smirks.

Then his eyes glow in rich gold.

“You know what I did”, he says, his voice a singsong, “I gave him what he wanted.”

Dean turns white as a sheet, he even stops breathing for a second. There are so many emotions crossing Dean’s face, it’s fascinating to watch and wait which emotion would win.

“You always wanted a taste of him, too… right?”

The dark room illuminates with the golden sparks that fly from Jack’s eyes. There’s the sound of crackling in the air, it smells of petrichor and flowers.

The room smells heavily of rain and sunshine and daisies when Jack leaves and the last thing he sees before he shuts Sam’s bedroom door is Dean, who leans over his brother, ready to take what Jack left for him.

There’s nothing human in the angel’s face.

THE END

Winkline @laxe-chester67 @vulgar-library @writethelifeyouwant @itsabookishblog @schaefchenherde @sacrificialtendencies @ohnoitsthebat @stemroses @nightmarecait @lostmykiliel @alexa-alcantara @wincestismyheart @closetedshippers @dragonardhill @alex-is-a-gay-human

#spnkinkbingo #spndarkbingo #sin is sinning #unrequited #tw: noncon #tw:rape #kink:somnophilia #soulless!jack #winkline #wincest

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myinconnelly1 · 3 years

Text

Every Way You Desire - No Nut November

@spndarkbingo squares: Medieval AU; and Challenge Sq: Getting married

Ship: Dean x Witch!Reader Rating : Mature A/N: For My lovely @donnaintx Medieval request on nov 7 I missed 2 days sorry guys. what can i say 2020 Enjoy!! Submit? Warnings: 18+, sexy promises, canon violence, canon gore, possible character death Summary: The Reader is a witch and protector to the princess. When Lucifer comes to reclaim his throne all of her plans might be lost. Word Count: 843

No Nut November Masterlist

“Lady, you are going to be mine,” Dean hummed as he grabbed at your dress. The corner of the hall behind the tapestry was a well-known location that the servants wouldn’t look behind.

“Sir Winchester, you haven’t even asked for my hand. You know I can’t just give my maidenhead to you. Besides, as a lady in waiting to the princess I -” You started but Dean finished your sentence.

“Can’t be wed until the princess has been promised to her prince or until her coronation as Queen. I know,” He whispered as he leaned down and kissed you chastely. It was enough to spark the longing in your body for him, but you resisted.

“But, when you ask me,” You teased him as you let your lips press against his as you talked. “I will say yes, and I will let you have me in all the ways you desire.”

Dean groaned, but you were both pulled away from your lust as screamed echoed in court.

“Defend the Queen! Stand your ground!” One of the Queen's guards shouted.

“The princess!” You and Dean gasped before running from the hiding spot.

“My lady?” You panted as you stood by your friend’s side. You had grown up with her and felt her to be the kindest sister you could have ever wished for.

“The Queen wishes for us to stand strong and not show fear,” The Princess said regally as she stood tall and proud.

“Yes, Mistress,” You said taking your place and feeling the power you controlled flow through your body. Dean looked over his shoulder to where you were standing and grimaced. He was the only person not of the royal family that knew of your ability to channel and bend the world. He stood next to his brother as they prepared to defend the Queen.

“Queen Rowena! You will yield the throne to its rightful owner, Lucifer!” A Herald for the uprising shouted as the ‘Morningstar’, as he was known, stood at the head of the group. He had a loyal following and though his claim to the throne was older, Rowena’s rule was more peaceful.

“I shall never yield!” The Queen threw back and she created a grand display of her power. All knew the Queen was a powerful witch, and most knew that she was not to be trifled with.

“TAKE THE THRONE!” Lucifer cried as the militia stormed the court and attacked. Arrows flew through the room while Sam and Dean charge to confront Lucifer. You watched the battle maintaining your flow and waiting to protect the princess, as was your only duty. You deflected many projectiles and pushed aside aggressors that posed threats as you saw them.

The Princess screamed as a spear was thrown when one of the ruffians managed to clear the guards. You weaved your magic creating a portal for the spear to enter, but at the same time, Dean was thrown across the room.

“Dean!” You cried, and he hit the wall but stood mostly unharmed.

“Oh God,” Dean gasped as the last string of the spell to relocate the spear unraveled.

“No!” The Princess screamed as she watched the spear impale you. You fell to your knees, but Dean caught you before you hit the ground.

“I’ve got you,” He whispered as your blood darkened your dress and his clothes.

“You’re hurt?” You gagged on your blood and touched a spot on his shirt.

“I’m fine,” He brushed off your concern. “I have to ask you something,” He said looking at your wounds. “I didn’t tell you, but your princess already permitted me to ask for your hand. Will you marry me?” Dean asked. You smiled faintly at him.

“Yes, and let you have me in every way that you desire,” You sighed as your eyes closed.

“Dean!” Sam shouted as he grabbed his brother’s arm. “We have to protect the princess.”

“I can’t leave her,” Dean said numbly.

“Okay,” Sam whispered. He grabbed your body and carried you, as Dean escorted the princess into a safe place and waited for the fight to end.

“She never told me, the two of you were courting,” The princess said softly as she held your hand and played absently with your hair.

“She didn’t want to put pressure on you to get married. We were in love, but she wanted you to have that too,” Dean said quietly as he stood by the door.

“I am here,” The Queen said as she burst into the room. “Where is she?” Sam pointed to where you were laying.

“Go over there,” The Queen ushered her daughter to where the brothers were. “I need time alone with her,” and with that sent everyone out of the room.

“I think we might be able to bend the rule of when ladies in waiting are allowed to marry. If we all make it out of this,” The princess said placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I wish you had been able to ask for her hand under better circumstances.”

@waywardbaby @destielhoneybee @snffbeebee @deangirl7695 @spnbaby-67 @maddiepants @ladywinchester1967 @woodworthti666 @miraclesoflove @tumbler-tidbits @emilyshurley @akshi8278 @mannls @wendibird @bobasheebaby @theoneandonlymelol @chelsea072498 @donnaintx @justsomedreaming @supernaturalenchanted @kalesrebellion @prettydeaneyes @emoryhemsworth @laphirablack @dontshootmespence @its-a-spn-thing @vicmc624 @idreamofplaid @deanmonandnegansbitch @winchesterxfamilybusiness @kickingitwithkirk @wayward-mikaelson @electraphyng @mariekoukie6661 @ @deanwinchesterinthedarktower @katelynw93

#no nut november #spndarkbingo #dean x reader #witch!reader #Dean x witch!reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #Rowena #Queen rowena #character death #canon violence #canon gore #getting married #challenge #medieval au

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cajunquandary · 3 years

Text

A Beacon to Beasts

AO3 Link (in the works, check back later)

Summary: While Dean is in Purgatory, he comes across some interesting monsters who help him through.

Created for @spndarkbingo

Square Filled: Fornication

Rating: R (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Dean x Reader x Benny

Warnings: Dark Fic. Canon level violence, SMUT (p in v, biting, anal, oral, dp, unprotected sex *dont be silly wrap the willy,* all the smut, also I might be developing a praise!kink here??), angst, traumatic memories. If you squint: suicide, Destiel, Denny

Word Count: 7600

A/N: Originally published in early 2017, this is a total rewrite with the tremendous help of @thinkinghardhardlythinking and @wonder-cole. You talented bitches. I love you.

Lightning spider-webbed across the sky, for a brief moment illuminating every shadow across Purgatory. The forest practically hissed in the unwelcome brightness as the trees whispered amongst themselves. A crack of thunder caused a quake larger than you’d felt in the god forsaken land ever before. It cracked the sound barrier, bent the hellscape reality at all of its slithering edges, and sent a shockwave so powerful it nearly tore apart every cell in your body. With an eerie silence, darkness fell again, and as your eyes adjusted, you could see that the beast attacking you was fleeing the other direction from whence it’d come—no, not fleeing. It was chasing the impact.

Something pulled in your chest like a red-hot meat hook, something that sent sparks of electricity straight into your brain and signaling an overwhelming raw need. You were familiar with such will-crushing lust. Your fangs were proof. But this… this was stronger than anything you’d ever felt before. It nearly drove you mad. You could feel your mind slipping, until you took a step forward, then another, and another. The more you walked towards the source of the prior disturbance, the more sated you felt. The more whole.

It took weeks of fighting others like you and endless backtracking to find the source—a vampire and another beast. It was a bit like a human, but no humans could be in Purgatory. Whatever it was, it was intoxicating.

Your body shuddered at the proximity of the delicious flesh. The warmth. You were merely a moth, drawn to a flame of your own destruction. Your head swam and you reached towards the man, but another fang sped from the shadows opposite you first. This was just enough of a distraction to pull you back from the brink.

You crouched behind a half-rotten tree, only one eye peeking from behind your cover. The human barely had time to react before the fiend had him forced into the well-trodden packed earth. His fall was hard. Your mouth watered as his pulse quickened and echoed through your soul.

The vampire accompanying the human sent the attacker’s head flying so closely that spattered monster blood landed on your hand. The foul stench drove you deeper into the safety of the trunk. You didn’t want to be next.

In this land, the best way to survive was to stay hidden, quiet, so you decided to follow them for the first few weeks, being careful to keep to the shadows. The thirst for the human ebbed and swelled unpredictably. At times, it was all you could do to resist the pulse exposed on his neck, especially when the man slept.

For days you tried to figure out what the other one was, who he was, but damn, was he a monster magnet. You’d been in pretty thick shit before, but never like this. Your cover was nearly blown a few times a day, but you were thankful the two were too busy fighting their own to notice you.

“Damn, man. You’re humanity is gon get us kilt.” The vampire wiped the rancid blood from his blade on the latest dead monster’s shirt.

“Yeah well, as soon as we find Cas, we’re getting the hell out of hell.” A human in Purgatory? How? No wonder there had been such a disturbance. He must have been pulled here by a great force--one that very nearly ripped the entire existence apart.

“Hey brother, I’m startin to think the angel don’t wanna be found. Dean, think about it. Every time we get close, he disappears again.”

“Benny—don’t.” The human stormed away from the vampire. What was going on? A human and an angel? Things must be getting really messy up top.

The vampire, Benny, turned suddenly in your direction, and you closed your eyes, hoping the thick layer of leaves and thorny bushes camouflaged you well enough. It must have, because he merely shrugged and walked after Dean.

This night was the quietest it had been since The Event. It had been hours since the last monster attack and you were almost as exhausted as they looked. It wasn’t long before the men settled down into the dust and a pile of dry brush and began to lightly snore. Usually one stood guard as the other slept, but on this occasion, both must have been too far gone to care.

You crept slowly forward, focused completely on the human. He was so beautiful. The creases of his forehead were reduced to fine lines as he slumbered, slow, tender breath fluttering across weary-pale swollen lips, freckles and mud mixed on his cheeks, hair tousled and bloodied, yet still so soft and shiny. His lashes twitched as he dreamed. You were only a few feet away now, beginning to feel lost in the warmth radiating from him, drunk in the light from his soul.

A sharp pain through your side interrupted your trance and you collapsed into a prickly shrub. Between gulps of agony, you could just make out that you were pinned to the ground with a rough makeshift javelin, reminiscent of a butterfly pinned to a shadow box as you’d owned as a human. You screamed in pain, and if you weren’t already twice dead, you’d worry about losing too much blood.

A pair of boots came into your view. “I smelled you days ago. I know you’ve been followin’ us. Why haven’t you attacked? You workin for someone?”

You looked from under your brows, straining to see if Dean was still where he had been, but found nothing. All you could do was gasp shallowly against the burning splinters. It had been years since anyone had gotten the jump on you like this. The bit of human that was left within you prayed that this was a bad dream, that you would wake in a moment in the gently swaying safety of the treetops.

The javelin was ripped from your aching side, and you screamed again as your organs smacked back together in the loss of pressure. The vampire threw you against the nearest tree. Through the pain that overwhelmed your ability to flee, you watched in utter captivation as the human secured you with heavy, rusted chains.

The latter bent close to your face, piercing green eyes a stark contrast to the caked mud and blood spattered across pale cheeks. “Now look, you piece of shit. I’m gonna waste you like I’ve wasted every damn thing in this place. But first, you’re gonna tell me where the angel is, and why you’ve been following us. If I like your answer, I’ll make it quick. If not… well, I don’t normally like the answers.” He smirked, tilting his head just slightly as if he was considering just how he was going to end you.

You gulped hard knowing the human meant business. You’d seen him firsthand, the violence, the rage. All this man left behind him were wide trails of blood.

You were shaking now, feverish and confused. When had your fangs come out? You retracted them in an attempt to look less intimidating and more cooperative. Between gritted teeth and a gradual tunneling of vision, you managed to respond. “I’ve been tracking you since you arrived. There was this storm, and I’ve felt a pull towards you the whole time. I-I don’t work for anyone, I swear.” His gnarly blade pressed into the soft flesh of your throat now and panic was rising and threatening to close off your throat if the blade didn’t do it first. “I didn’t even know about the angel until earlier today when I overheard you.”

“Well. I don’t think I like your answer.” Dean sliced deeply into your arm, which produced a guttural scream from deep within your core. The blade itself didn’t hurt that bad, but whatever was on it sure did. Benny walked away, knowing what was coming. Benny was a monster—Dean was worse.

“P-please I don’t know, I just know the light—your soul is like a candle in this endless darkness. I’ve been here for so, so long and you feel like home, like safety. I crave your closeness and I don’t know the details of why, but I couldn’t hurt you.”

Benny looked over his shoulder as Dean paused. Something struck a chord. Benny walked back over and pulled Dean slightly off to the side, almost out of earshot.

“Brother, I think she’s tellin’ the truth. We should give this one a chance to talk.”

“Why? She doesn’t know anything about Cas. She’s just another monster in my way.”

“And so was I. We were both human once. Let’s hear her out. She hasn’t even fought back.”

The fatigue and injuries caught up with you. Focusing on the thick red-black ooze streaming from your wounds, sleep was finding you swiftly with your head falling forward, blood-soaked hair in your eyes and chest pulled tight against the restraints.

Dean lifted your chin with the end of his blade, remnants of your internals still glistening on the edge. Your eyes followed the length of his arm to his face where he held you in an unwavering gaze. Those eyes were greener than anything in this world—more than the trees you hid in, the brush around you, or the sparse grass beneath your feet.

You seized your breath and relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into those eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting. Your mortal soul had been tired in life, grown wearier after you were turned, another century had passed before you’d been sent here after a hunter took you out. The memory flashed by: how you sat there on your knees, glad to be facing the barrel of the gun after so long that you didn’t even fight. Had you known you’d end up here, you may have fought more to stay topside. But now, you faced oblivion, or so you hoped. This would finally be the end of the suffering, the fighting.

Dean must have read the all-too-familiar look of defeat and acceptance in your face. He lowered the knife, letting your head fall forward again, and caught you in his arms as the chains broke and clattered to the dust.

He leaned you against the base of the tree. You weakly gazed upward through hooded eyes, wanting to see past the leaves to the empty sky, but couldn’t. It was all grisly branches for a hundred feet up.

“Why were you creeping up on me?” Dean pulled your attention back to them.

Battling the unconsciousness that nipped unwaveringly at the corners of your mind, you whispered, “The ache in my chest… the closer I get to you, the easier it is to handle. I wasn’t going to hurt you, I just needed to be... closer.”

“And is this better?” He motioned to the foot’s distance between you.

“Yeah,” You half-smiled through gritted teeth, the pain from your side still throbbing. It wouldn’t kill you. Nothing in Purgatory killed a monster except another monster—usually by beheading. It still hurt like a bitch, though, and left you exposed and vulnerable like a wounded animal.

He pursed his lips and shared a look with Benny, who shrugged. “I’ll stay up and watch, Dean. You get more rest before it starts again. And I’ll watch you, specifically.” The other vampire motioned at you, an intensity behind his blue eyes you could identify with. This human was meant to be protected, no matter the personal cost.

Dean was soon asleep again, his back turned to you.

The earth supporting your broken form was anything but forgiving. But still, you weren’t going to waste time whimpering to yourself now that you were a part of the misfit group. “Benny, where are you from? How long have you been here?” You wondered aloud.

He eyed you suspiciously, pausing before he answered. “I ran with a crew out of Louisiana, but we sailed all over the Americas. Been here a long time.”

You adjusted your position with a grunt. Benny’s hand was already on his weapon. “Calm down, sailor, just tryin to get comfortable... I’m from Shreveport. Been here a long time, too. Only did about two centuries up top, though.”

“Well, I’ve got a few on you then, sister. Shreveport was nice. Rolled through there a few times.” The vampire chuckled at the memory.

Even still, your body had different plans for the evening, and if anything else was said afterwards, you wouldn’t remember. Rest was in the cards that evening, even if your mind protested. Between stretches of sweet nothing, nightmarish memories flashed by in haphazard, non-chronological snippets.

There you stood, on the bridge above deep, twisting waters. Though the wind whipped your hair wildly, you could feel nothing. Not since the day you were bit.

Then you were in the shed on your grandfather’s land, centuries before, when you were young but still so old. Had you ever had a chance? And there were fires and anthills, guns and chains.

Before that one could go where you knew it would, you shot awake. Benny raised a concerned brow in your direction, but you couldn’t face him. Not after that. Within moments, sleep took you once again.

The butterfly pinned in the box. Such a stark contrast was that orange and red and blue against the green felt and the glint of silver pins. You would chuckle at the sight if you could. Tiny fingers traced the outline of the glass.

Then you were on your knees. You didn’t even fight. This? This was the day you died… the second time. By the hands of an inexperienced young hunter who was too focused on fighting with his dad to even notice you there. I mean, he practically tripped over you. The boy looked tall for his age, hazel eyes partially obscured by choppy bangs and mouth pressed into a thin line. He hesitated too long. You’d cocked your head to the side, wondering if he even had it in him to off you, and you almost felt sorry for the kid. Especially when his dad saw. The old black-haired ass berated him, belittled him. Compared him to his older brother. A disgrace, he’d said. Nothing like him, nothing like Mary. When the boy could look you in the eyes, you gave a slight nod as if to say, “It’s okay, I forgive you.” Those bright hazel eyes morphed into the moon cast over a monster wasteland.

By morning’s light, you felt better, somewhat healed, but mostly sore. You and Benny spoke all the while, learned your ins and outs, and caught up on the situation with Dean, the toothy leviathans, the apocalypse (again), the dick angels, and everything else Dean had filled him in on weeks ago. If you weren’t in Purgatory yourself, you never would’ve believed all this. I mean, angels? C’mon.

Sure enough, Benny was right. Beasts continued to attack in waves. There were a few close calls, and not one would speak of the whereabouts of the angel Castiel, though a few tried to save themselves by spouting lies. Dean would see right through them. It only ever took one question. “What color are the angel’s eyes?” A few had gotten lucky and guessed blue, but Dean didn’t even accept that answer. You asked once, what answer he was hoping for. He only shook his head in response.

There were times, though, when he would describe Cas to you in the quiet of night, and it was like listening to a lost lover. Dean gave in after some months and described the angel’s eyes as full of grace, blue, but slightly glowing. And not just any blue, no. The bluest blue you could ever imagine. The purest blue. He spoke longingly about things they’d done, things he wanted to do, wanted to say. Needed to say. You would close your eyes and drift off to him mumbling stories of Cas, the fondness softening his voice.

It was dark again and the almost empty end of a particularly difficult day. You’d all sustained serious injuries from the violent fray that only seemed to become more dense as of late. You and Benny would heal quickly, but Dean wouldn’t… and you worried for him, lingering protectively close.

The weary hunter screamed in time with the monster as he thrust his knife through its eye, his voice echoing long after the lifeless body crumpled in front of him. In a rage, he threw his weapon down, stalking over to a nearby tree. He punched, kicked and threw himself against the bark until he was nearly bloodied beyond recognition. Benny could only look down, powerless to help his friend. Unable to watch any longer, you forced yourself between Dean and the tree. His eyes were closed until his bruised fists struck soft skin stretched over bone, the unexpected change in texture catching him off guard. You winced against it but grabbed his jacket in both hands, balling your own fists into it to hold him firmly in place. Jerking him forward until you were nose to nose, breath and blood mixing, you growled, “We will find him, Dean. But not if you kill yourself first.”

“Y-you sound like him,” His voice cracked and his head fell to your shoulder. You could feel his tears, hot on your frozen skin. This world was so cold and it never ceased to amaze you how he kept his warmth. You held him tightly, even as his knees buckled and swayed. By the state of those green eyes, you could see resignation and defeat creeping up on him.

You shared a look with Benny, and he knew, too. “I’ll keep watch. You make him rest, cher.” You’d come to learn that Benny preferred to keep watch from all the years he’d had to watch his own backside here. You’d survived in hiding, while he’d made a name for himself—a killer, like Dean (not that either of them ever wanted to be.) You had to give it to him, though. After all, you’d tried to fight off everything in the beginning, but it was too tiring, like living was. So instead, you learned to thrive in shadows and whispers, moving like a ghost through whispers of the trees.

You were grateful for the moment alone with the warm beacon of a man, though. If the electricity across your skin anytime you touched the human indicated anything, it was a confirmation of your heart’s longing. You kept him pulled flush against your chest, his heartbeat so strong that it reverberated through your body. You focused on the feeling. How many centuries had it been since you felt your own beating? Dean’s was so strong it could surely support you both, you thought.

With a groan, Dean pulled the two of you down into a horizontal heap. You couldn’t make out the details of his face in the dark abyss of night, but his heart rate had shifted notably, along with his breathing. His anguish was palpable and you couldn’t help but to take some of it on as your own. He exuded it, it leaked from every pore.

Supple lips brushed against yours, and you closed your eyes, slowly guiding one hand to his back above you and the other through his hair. It was as soft and silky as you’d hoped it was. You pulled just slightly, allowing your nails to gently spread and retract in circular motions. Dean clenched, the softest sounds carrying on the thick night air. Smiling at the reaction, you carded through the messy spikes and repeated the measure for several moments before Dean crashed into you, with his sudden need matching yours. Every kiss grew deeper, longer, and your tongues began to wrestle gently but urgently between locked lips. He grabbed at you hungrily with a certain ease, unable to hold back anymore, with palms stroking openly up and down your torso, until they slipped below your core.

You both pushed and pulled, wallowed and rolled, careful of injuries but powerless to pull away, fighting to get closer. You helped him slip from his leather jacket, and he groaned into your mouth with a tantalising mixture of pain and pleasure. The sound made you shiver, and you hastily removed yourselves from worn and tattered pants, breaking only for a moment.

“Shh, Dean,” you whispered next to his ear. He nodded, understanding that even in this embrace, you were exposed and hunted. But with skin on skin, it was difficult to keep logic and sanity at the forefront of your mind.

Dean slowed his pace and shifted until you were straddling him. With a touch so light it tickled, he let his hands trace every angle of your body, until he felt the latest wound and drew back suddenly.

“It’s okay,” you breathed into his gaping mouth.

“No, I-- I’m sorry.” His voice was feeble, desperate.

Taking his hand in yours, you placed it back where it’d been. It was a small gesture, but the effect it had on Dean was profound. With both hands now, he clutched your sides so tightly, it sent swells of something delicious straight to your center, before rippling out to every nerve ending exposed to the cool air, and then some.

Just as you began to give in, a rustle from only several feet away snapped you back to reality. You shot up upon bare feet, weapon already in your hand as you scanned the malevolent shadows for the source, listening and feeling for any shift in the air. Dean lay frozen by your feet, head still spinning in weakness and lust.

In a swift turn on the balls of your feet, you faced the intruder, ready for war.

“It’s just me, cher. I heard something and wanted to make sure you two were okay.” As Benny took in the situation, he laughed softly. “Sorry to interrupt. I’ll be over there…”

With an annoyed frown, you allowed your stance to go slack. “Thanks.”

Dean touched your leg, leaning in to kiss it lightly before planting a little nibble at your ankle. You slipped back down next to him, gasping when he quickly found your neck and nipped along your clavicle to the sweet spot in the hollow of your neck.

He was shaking slightly under the strain, but lifted himself atop you. To help keep him steady, you placed your hands on his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his torso. With a grateful kiss, he traced his tongue across your bottom lips as he lined himself at your entrance.

His tip sank into your soaked folds and his resulting keen made you tremble beneath him, itching for more. “Dean, p-please…”

“What do you want?”

You rotated your hips against his, fighting to make him move. “Please, fuck… Dean I need you. Need more.”

Your begging tore his resolve to shreds and he sunk into you, stretching and filling you like nothing ever before. Your back arched at the sensations as they nearly overwhelmed you, drowning out the hell around you and leaving only Dean. Your heavy breathing barely registered as you whined his name. A shallow shriek betrayed you. Dean placed a calloused hand over your mouth, and it only drove you more mad.

As he bottomed out and began short but powerful thrusts, tears gathered at the edges of your eyes. Everytime, he hit that sweet spot. Everytime, you whimpered into his hand and dug your fingers into his flesh tighter. Everytime, he moaned in response.

It wasn’t long before those slow, drawn out jolts coiled you so tight you could barely contain yourself. Dean could sense the change as you began to rub against him, allowing the friction to take you over the edge. Right as you fell off into a fierce and roiling sea of ecstasy, Dean replaced his hand over your mouth with his own, swallowing your choppy breaths as you twitched and spasmed beneath him.

Still lost in the swell, you felt the hunter release and fall, spent, onto your chest. You managed to wrap your arms around him and held him steadfastly, not ready to let go. It was incredible to watch Dean unravel and relax for the first time. In fact, it’d just become your favorite drug.

Unknown to the broken lovers, a pair of “gorilla-wolves” attempted to interrupt throughout the steamy romp in the leaves, but Benny quickly took care of them. The nasty things wouldn’t have gotten as close as they had, but the vampire had been distracted by the sinfully delicious sounds coming from the far side of the tree. He’d tried to ignore it at first but found his mind wandering. It’d been ages since he’d felt the touch of another being, and the want rose up in him, a fire in his stomach.

You panted next to Dean when he rolled to the side, your injuries far from mind in the lasting rapture from being one with the human. His breathing was still ragged, but slowing. The wound on the back of his shoulder had reopened. Begrudgingly , he let you patch it again. Once dressed, you fell back to the sorry bed of leaves. Dean nuzzled into your side and let out a pained sigh as sleep found him. You could’ve sworn you heard the faintest “Don’t let me die here…” fall from his lips. Your grip on him tightened. You’d get him out if it killed you. But first, you had to find that elusive angel.

It was another month of the same routine. Days and nights ran together. The closer you got to the angel, the denser the swarm of monsters was. Even Benny seemed to be on his last leg. You offered to keep watch this time. At first Benny protested, but you shut him down.

“It’s broad daylight out here. I can see them coming from far enough off, I can give you plenty of time to wake up and fight if I can’t handle it. Don’t worry.”

He didn’t feel like protesting too much, and finally nodded, sad blue eyes locking on yours in a silent promise of trust in comradery.

A few hours passed, and you stood to stretch. A twig snapped behind you, and you twirled quickly, your knife to Benny’s throat. His hands raised. “Sorry cher, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Nearly lost your fool head. Why aren’t you resting?” You dropped your arms and stood next to the vampire, staring out through the forest again, scanning. Listening.

“I rested enough.”

“Right, that’s why you have to use that tree to support yourself.” His lips pressed into a hard smile, electric eyes dropping to the ground. When he looked back up, something in them had changed. He reached towards you, hesitant, and brushed the wavy mess of hair from your face behind your ear, hand gently gliding across your jaw until his thumb rested on your lip.

You closed your eyes and shuddered under the vampire’s touch. It was more familiar than Dean’s. You leaned into it, following as it guided you into his embrace. He was larger than Dean and still smelled of the swamp and sea. The scent was intoxicating, dragging all of your attention to Benny.

He pulled back for a moment and cradled your face in the large, thick hands of a sailor. “You okay with this? Don’t want you to feel pressured, darlin’.”

“Mm not pressured,” you smiled up into those spirited sharp blue eyes. You lost yourself in them, completely ensnared. You could see past them, to cerulean glittering waters, could feel the lapping of them against your old boat, hear the seagulls and crows chattering as they glided on heatwaves, taste the salt on your tongue.

You stretched up on your tiptoes, craning to taste the salt on his lips, feel the waves in the way his tongue twists. Benny must have felt the same, as he met your parted lips in a feverish kiss, maneuvering you effortlessly between himself and the tree for support until he was rutting into you.

The touch was bittersweet and starved, driving both of you as you stripped away layers. Benny pressed into you until the bark bit into your back and arms. You knocked the hat from atop his head to get closer, to guide him in, and he responded by taking the thin flesh of your neck into his mouth. Fangs drug thin scratch lines over your chest and shoulders, followed by sucking kisses. Benny grunted as he settled next to your ear, the growing bulge in his remaining trousers becoming almost painful in the restriction.

Sensing this, you moved to loosen the last piece of his clothing until it slumped to his ankles, all the while raw, needy noises spilled from your mouth. If only you’d found each other topside, things would have been better. You wouldn’t have let that young, long-haired hunter boy and his grumpy father kill you.

In one smooth move, Benny hooked his fingers into your jeans and slid them off, until you were completely free of them. With lust in your eyes, you found his full lips once more. You bit and sucked at his bottom lip until he was throbbing against you and whispering your name in short breaths in desperation.

With a slight adjustment in position, he grabbed your ribcage and lifted you just enough to line himself at your entrance. Hungrily, you raised your knees and rested them on his sides. You dug your nails into his shoulders in anticipation, but he didn’t keep you waiting long. With a final shift of his angle, Benny slid into you unrestrained.

His pace was unforgiving. He was rougher, more desperate, yet somehow more controlled than Dean. Pain was something you both knew too well, and found pleasure in at this moment. Neither of you had to hold back in fear of hurting the other.

Benny muttered a long string of praises as he placed his cheek on yours and relished in the fragmented breaths and mewls leaking from your gaping mouth.

Between the friction to your front and the sharp ache in your back, the intense set of his pace brought unwanted tears to the corners of your eyes. Before you knew it, he had you biting back a scream as you came in his arms, your back digging into the tree as he held you through it. You sank your teeth into his neck, drawing blood and pushing back the sharper set as they threatened to emerge. He snarled into your ear and released, standing for a moment, relishing in your closeness.

For a time, you just remained in that position as he softened inside you, foreheads resting fondly on each other.

Dean stirred, grumbling as he woke. With a silently shared promise to continue the embrace another day, the two of you straightened yourselves back out and rounded the tree to greet the sleep-starved human.

Over the next two weeks, the three of you grew much closer. Sometimes in between attacks, you took solace in each other. Most times it was talk, but when words were too difficult and your bodies needed to feel something… else, something primal and good and pure, they would pass you between them, never straying too far.

Benny's eyes would always drift and land upon Deans. It intoxicated him, pulled at his heart in ways that tore him apart. Deep green eyes, full of hope and goodness and humanity… something fragile yet unbreakable, much like what he once saw in Andrea’s. Just like Andrea’s. As much as he tried to put her memory to rest, Dean’s gaze would always take his breath, whether they were fighting or fucking, and the feelings that washed over Benny were wild and raw.

You ventured off to scout ahead one day, leaving Benny to help Dean walk after a surprise run in with a gorilla wolf didn’t fare so well. Those things sure liked Dean. Could you blame them? As you cleared the spaces ahead, you reminisced on the first time it happened.

It’d started innocently enough, some kissing and tender touches traded between you and Dean. You craved comfort, and his touch never disappointed. The fading daylight illuminated something… different, something new in his eyes. There was a spark of acceptance? Resignation? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but for some reason the usually tightly wound hunter was relaxed. His movements were delicate and slow, a stark contrast to the usual quickie on the run.

You nearly lost your balance when he stripped your pants away and traced deliberate sucking kisses down to your sweet spot. You’d had to catch yourself from falling over at the heady sensations, threading your hands into his hair and holding on for dear life (or death.) Within moments, Benny swooped in to support you from behind, snaking a strong arm around your stomach as Dean began to lick and hum and stroke you in ways you’d never felt. Your blood burned like fire, causing every inch of your skin to become more sensitive.

Benny brushed the hair from your shoulder with his free hand, then took a fistful of it and guided your head back. With a contented sigh, he took your exposed neck into his mouth and you twitched violently between the shivers running down and the heat rising up. The contrast of Dean’s soft lips to the burn of his stubble mirrored that of the rough, blood soaked fabric of Benny’s jacket against the smooth of your skin… and it drove you mad. Your vision swelled with every wave and the sounds of the cursed world around you faded as if cotton had been shoved in your ears.

Your legs gave way and you fell into Dean’s lap as he chuckled, watching you come undone. The orgasm hit you somewhere along the way down, untouched but wound so tightly that you couldn’t hold out another moment.

While you writhed against him, Dean held you securely to his chest with arms that crushed into your ribs and pinned your arms to your sides. Your head finally came to rest upon his shoulder, and as your senses eased back into focus, you realized that you were completely laid down upon his bare chest. Still buzzing from the high, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck and laid a small peck. Dean’s resulting smile stretched wide, and you could feel it there without even needing to see it.

“You okay, baby?” Dean gently stroked your back up and down with one hand, and moved to tangle strong fingers in your hair to hold the base of your head tenderly with the other.

When you found your voice, you muttered a small, “yeah, thank you.”

Benny kneeled beside you and lowered his face until your foreheads met, the three of you so impossibly close. “You up for some more, sugar?”

You smiled wryly and closed your eyes. “Yeah, I’m all yours.”

Though your limbs were but heavy gelatin, you managed to lift out of your shirt as the men undressed. Pulling Dean’s discarded coat over you like a blanket, you rested against a fallen tree and admired them. Dean was more slender, but faster and stronger. The way his muscles rippled and creased beneath pale, freckled skin reminded you of a swimmer--all lean and mean. He was graceful in every movement, like a dancer. Benny was a little more solid, built like a tank. Maybe he wasn’t as fast, but there was no going through him. You’d seen beasts hit him straight on with full power, and the vampire had barely flinched. Those fists could break anything, but his face was always… soft. Kind. Dean’s was hardened, but you couldn’t blame him. And yes, there were moments, like this, where the lines of his face smoothed, and some color returned to his cheeks.

How you’d ever found Heaven in this Hell, you’d never come to understand. But you were ever grateful. Hopeful for a future with them topside, however it may go.

Dean’s outstretched hand pulled you from your daydream. You took it, letting the jacket go as he helped you stand. As you stood, he continued to pull you forward until you were flush with him. He pressed a firm kiss to your scalp and rubbed his palms up and down your body. His cock twitched against your belly, and you wrapped your arms around him, squeezing just a little tighter at the new flood of arousal.

Benny snaked his arms around you from behind, until his hands rested on your neck, not gripping, but just *there.* The weight of them naturally guided your head to fall back against his chest. He growled into your ear, “You’re so fucking beautiful. So good for us, cher.”

Your mouth fell agape and released a strangled moan as Dean kissed along your exposed neck and mumbled a steady stream of “You’re such a good girl for us, such a good fighter, a great companion.”

With every word, a new fire raged through your veins. Your face burned hot. Dean’s hands wandered south, caressing every inch passionately. One hand found its home grasping your thigh right under your ass, and the other came to rest in your dripping folds. You bucked against the touch and right into Benny’s length resting between your cheeks.

You whimpered, needing more, needing release. “D-Dean please, fuck. I need you. I want you inside me, please--unnghh.”

Dean teased your entrance for a moment more before the wrecked look on your face and the subtle, high pitched sounds spilling from you completely enraptured him. Benny nodded, moving his hands to steady your sides as you squirmed uncontrollably. With a swift movement, you were raised up with both of Dean’s hands cupping and spreading your ass until he lined up at your folds and let you sink down much too slowly.

Pathetic cries filled the air as you struggled to maintain control, the stretch of him almost too much to handle and not nearly enough all at once. You shook and grabbed at anything you could hold with a flutter in your chest that threatened to make you implode. And yet, the intense feelings only grew. Benny planted himself and anchored with a strong arm outstretched and clutching to Dean’s shoulder.

Dean bit his lip fiercely and let out a pained groan at the other man’s unyielding hold on him. His cock twitched again as he bottomed out deep inside you. The depth burned and ached, and with it your eyes came to focus on Dean’s.

The emerald green was more prominent now, outlined by the hot blush beneath a spray of freckles. His brows were drawn tightly and jaw slack, full, pink lips parted in bliss. His breathing was erratic, and with every intake of cool evening air, Dean trembled.

You mewled and whined, shifted against them, desperate for friction. The slightest broken smile graced the hunter’s face and he nodded, knowing but not yet ready.

Tears already began to gather as you fought the urge to physically fight the men into submission, to finally scratch that itch. Benny didn’t leave you waiting much longer though, before he was slipping and pushing into place in your ass. The deliberate burn of him spreading you open opposite Dean left you thrashing between them.

Dean took a deep breath in as a reminder for you to do the same. If it weren’t for him grounding you and helping you through, the black void would’ve already sucked you in as another victim. You did your best to relax and bore down, allowing Benny to fill your other hole completely to his base.

The vampire grimaced through his own keening, the tightness of you nearly sending him over the edge right there and then. You stilled between them, already on the verge of destruction as the three of you adjusted to the new feelings washing over you in waves.

Dean’s lips found yours, open and wanting. Taking his tongue hungrily into your mouth, you sucked and fell absolutely limp as he sucked your lower lip between his. The scent of him was utterly intoxicating, and you were ready once more.

Benny began to move in tandem with Dean. With every movement of the both of them against your thin membrane, a wailing cry seeped between your clenched teeth. Benny was now clutching both of Dean’s shoulders so tightly that were white bloodless patches beneath each of his fingertips. This made Dean buck harder until the hunter’s eyes shut tightly and left his head bobbing backwards in lust.

The symphony of your cries was lost beneath those of the two men, who shuddered and swayed. The sweet, sinful music flooded your mind and sent you reeling over the edge once more, clenching and swearing and falling against Benny’s outstretched arm.

Dean’s thrusts faltered as his stuttered, “I’m.. I’m about to--”

“Just let go, brother,” Benny encouraged.

It was the only confirmation Dean needed before his load spilled into you, sending renewed longing to your stomach as he pulsed inside you. “Fuck Dean,.. You feel so good,” you managed.

Benny came seconds later, and you relished in the full warmth of them.

You smiled to yourself as the familiar electricity flooded your veins and leaked to your core. It may have been the first time, but every time since had only been… better. Impossibly, incredibly better.

Upon your return, you noticed that Dean had found new strength.

“We’re closer than ever to Cas, he’s three days away by the river. We’re almost done! We can go home!” Dean was grinning widely, a spark finally back in his tired eyes.

You smiled, scooping him into a rough embrace. If Dean was happy, you were happy. Benny joined you in the bear hug. You were so ready to be topside again, and now, it was so close you could just taste it.

Your second chance.

With a start, Benny hollered and let go, leaving Dean tense and alert in your arms. Then, he threw you to the side as a beast attacked. Its whole face morphed into a shark-tooth ringed mouth, and you grimaced.

Leviathan. You must’ve been really close to that angel.

You drew your weapon as one engaged you, swung and lopped its head off easily after years of practice, until something glinting and sharp emerged where it should not have been.

You looked down, the blade bloodied and protruding through your chest, through your lungs. Unable to draw a breath, you fell to your knees.

“No!” Both Benny and Dean were yelling, voices echoing through the hostile forest. Black ooze covered them from the slain monsters. You looked up as your assailant withdrew the sizable knife from your back and placed it against your neck. It was another vampire. You looked back to the boys.

“You killed our sister, so now we’re gonna kill yours,” the voice behind you teased in a sing-songy tone. More boots shuffled into your line of view.

Benny looked absolutely broken as he charged, extra teeth bared sharply in defiance. Dean bounded to you, holding your gaze with those emerald green eyes as he expertly dodged the advances of his adversaries.

Once again, your breath was seized and you relaxed your tense muscles. If this was finally what wiped you into oblivion, it would be okay, as long as you could stare into the comforting depths of that hunter’s eyes. After all, you were tired of fighting…This would finally be the end of the suffering. To oblivion. The warmth from Dean’s soul flooded over you as he got closer, but it was too late.

Your head rolled from your body.

Dean decimated the group of vampires in record time, the rage fully restored and urging his body forward against all odds. Once again, the hunter had become more vicious than any monster in the land. In two days, he would limp to the river and find his angel.

You, however, woke on the other side of Purgatory. Oblivion was not something that would ever come for you. There would never be a release. Despair, overcoming any hope you ever had, creeped its dark tendrils through your entire being and swiped your feet from underneath you. So that’s what happens to monsters who die in monster heaven… they get respawned and zapped to another part. Great. You were stuck in hell, too far away now to reach them in time. One day you would find a way out. You had to. But first, you would have to find the strength. Strength you may never have again. You curled into a ball, mind silent as you gave into the feeling, a single, small tear streaking a thin line from your eye into the dust.

You were alone. Again.

Your second chance gone along with the human and his friends.

This was my second attempt at writing smut and maybe I got carried away??

WAYWARD PEEPS:

@carryonmywaywardcaptain @manawhaat @supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79-blog @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @inmysparetime0 @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx @idk-life01 @attorneyl @deathtonormalcy56 @xwing-baby @wonder-cole @itsangelpie-supports @thinkinghardhardlythinkingogblog@icecream-and-gadreel

ANGST BABES:

@trexrambling @abbessolute @emptywithout

ALL ABOUT THAT DEAN:

@akshi8278 @will-winchester

#spndarkbingo #2020-21 #beacon to beasts #dean x reader #benny x reader #dean x reader x benny #smut #read the warnings #chris writes sometimes #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn smut #dean smut #benny smut #dean winchester x you #benny lafitte

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queen-of-deans-booty · 1 year

Text

Broken Down

Pairing: Jared Padalecki x Female!Reader (siblings)

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: reader having a stillborn, feeling the loss of a child, heartbroken angst, substituting Odette to the reader’s stillborn child, losing a fiancé because of it

Request by @deafeningstrangerlight: Can you do a jared and gen where reader Is gen baby sister and coma to vist them. She had a miscarriage and only reveals it when she's holding her necie and breaks down andnrunsnout to which jared comfort her when she crying and helps her get better.

Summary: Before losing your daughter, you were married and was happy. After, your fiancé left you. When Jared asks you to babysit, you discover you have unresolved feelings that come bursting out.

Square Filled: free space (2021) for @spndarkbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

How can you face your brother after what you went through? How can you look him in the eyes and not break down at the fact that you didn’t call him when you needed him? How can you come to terms with the loss of your baby after being with his daughter all day? The image of your daughter lying dead in your arms and the feeling of pushing out a dead baby weighs heavily on your shoulders.

This isn’t how this was supposed to go. You were supposed to have a healthy baby girl with the love of your life. You were supposed to watch her grow up and have her make mistakes. She was supposed to go to school and make friends and get married and have kids of her own.

She was supposed to be here.

Instead, you’re left childless and fianceless. Instead, you’re sitting on a plane to see your big brother and his family with a big hole in your heart. You didn’t call Jared, and for that, you know he will yell at you for. As much as you wanted him with you, you couldn’t pick up the phone. You couldn’t say the words out loud.

My baby died. My baby was a stillborn.

Even the thought hurts tremendously. Jared just has Odette, and you’re staying with him and his wife for two weeks to help out with the kids. Having this distraction could be the best thing for you or the worst thing.

On one hand, you’ll have to deal with the kids enough to keep your mind off your own issues. On the other hand, you’re going to stare into Odette’s big beautiful eyes and break down crying wishing your own was here instead. It doesn’t help that you don’t have Nick with you anymore. He left as soon as he left the delivery room, and he hasn’t been back since. When you were discharged, you came home to an empty apartment. All of his things had been removed, and he didn’t leave anything behind.

Anything but you. He left you behind, but you don’t need someone like him. You need someone who will stay even through the worst things. How you’ll explain why he isn’t here, you’re not sure. Jared and Gen will surely ask about him, and you’ll have to fake a smile and lie to their faces.

How can you ever explain to them that you got pregnant and then killed their niece? The doctors aren’t sure why the placenta broke, but that’s what killed your daughter. You did everything right, but that still didn’t seem enough. Sometimes, you can do everything by the book and get everything right, and somehow, she still dies.

Maybe you weren't meant to be a mother, and this was the universe’s way of telling you that.

Jared and Gen met you at the gates after the plane landed, and you plastered on the fakest smile you can possibly muster. The boys are in school right now, but Gen has baby Odette with her. She is sleeping in her carriage, and you make every effort to be happy to see her.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Hold it in and push it down. You’re fine. Don’t cry.

“She’s beautiful,” you smile.

She kind of looks like your daughter.

“I know you’re probably tired from the flight, but you have to tell me everything. How is Nick doing?” Jared asks and takes your bags from you.

This is going to be a very long two weeks, especially when all they’ll be doing is asking about Nick.

“He’s doing fine.”

“I can’t believe he let you leave after giving birth. Are you sure you don’t want me to call him down here?”

“No!” you say rather quickly. “I mean, I’m happy to be here. I want to be here. I can use a break.”

“I don’t know how you did it. Odette is my third kid, but I still can’t leave her,” Gen chuckles. “Was it a hard birth for you? I wanted to make a parenting book.”

“Yeah, it was hard,” you sigh. “When do the boys get out of school? I got them presents. I got Odette some stuff too.”

There is no possible way you can go home in two weeks to an apartment with a bunch of baby stuff in it. It’s why you packed whatever you could and had the rest shipped to their house.

There’s no need for you to have it.

Jared and Gen take you back to their place and get you set up in their very big guest room. Gen loved the things you got for Odette, but you didn’t give her time to question why you got so many things for her when you just had a baby of your own.

You open your suitcase and start to hang your clothes in the closet, thinking about what you’re going to do when the two weeks are up. How can you go from being with your brother and his wife to a small apartment with no one inside? Your baby’s ashes are inside your apartment, and you don’t think you can ever go back without breaking down.

Once everything is put away, you walk into the main room where Jared and Gen are whispering.

“What are you whispering about?” you ask and take a seat on their couch.

“We decided to get the boys out early. Maybe we can go to the beach or the mall or something, and then out to dinner. Does that sound okay?” Gen asks.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you nod.

“Would you mind watching Odette? I don’t want to get her back in the car.”

“Oh, uh, sure.”

Gen and Jared leave before you change your mind. You’re now alone with the small baby, and she is staring at you with her big beautiful eyes.

“I can’t do this,” you whisper to yourself. You get up and walk over to Odette who stares at you the whole time. You reach down and pick her up gently as if she will break. “How do I do this? You’re not making it any easier.”

Instead of sitting back down, you pace the entire living room with her in your arms. She looks so innocent and pure, and for a split second, you’re brought back to that godforsaken hospital room. Odette turns into your daughter, and you’re crying over the loss. She won’t ever get to say your name or walk, and you won’t ever get to see her smile and run.

This wasn’t a good idea. You shouldn’t be here.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You jump at the sound of your brother’s voice. Has an hour already passed? Jared and his wife had gone and come back with the boys, but to you, it felt like seconds.

“I can’t do this. I’m so sorry.”

You pass Odette to her mother before running out of the house. Their backyard is big, so you head there and over to the resting area to give yourself some space. Gen and the kids are confused, but Jared raises his hands in a way that says, “I got this”.

Jared finds you easily, and he approaches you slowly like how a person would to a deer.

“Y/N…?”

“I’m sorry. I should have called you. I didn’t want to go through it alone.”

“Go through what alone?”

Jared takes a seat next to you, and you turn to him with tears streaming down your face.

“Emma was a stillborn. She died. My placenta broke and it killed her. Nick left me because of it. I wanted to call you. I wanted to tell you, but you just had Odette, and I didn’t want to burden you. I’m sorry, Jared. I ruin everything,” you sob.

Jared can’t believe what he’s hearing. He has to push his anger for Nick aside because his little sister needs him right now. He doesn’t want to say anything because he can tell you’re not done. Instead, he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer.

“I can’t go home, Jared. I can’t go home to an empty apartment. I don’t know what to do,” you sob.

“Don’t do that to yourself, Y/N. You did what you needed to do. I am so sorry this happened to you. You’re welcome to stay with us for however long you need. Nick just left?”

“He left as soon as she was born. He hasn’t been back since.”

“I’m going to beat the shit out of him,” Jared mutters under his breath.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Hey, hey, hey, you have no reason to be sorry about that. Something traumatic happened to you. What you do because of it is valid. Your feelings and your actions are valid. I’m just glad you’re telling me now. However I can help, I will do it for you.”

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Jared pulls you in closer, allowing you to cry out everything you’ve pushed down since it happened. No matter what happens, you know you can count on him to always be there for you.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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negans-lucille-tblr · 3 years

Text

Sacrifice - Dark Oneshot

Summary: Sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the ones we love.

Rating: 18+ (Dark fic - Smut)

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Claire // Sam x Claire

Tags: inappropriate relationship, age gap, murder, sacrifice, angst, teasing, flirting, dirty talking, driving blowjob, fingering, coercion, manipulation, abuse of power, dub-con (on Sam’s part), size kink, stomach bulging, threesome, spit-roast, p in v, cream-pie, sloppy seconds

WC: ± 3.7K

@spndarkbingo Square: Sacrifice // @winchesterandbeyondbingo Square: Size Kink

A/Ns: Sam wasn’t meant to crash this party. My patrons made me do it. Blame them!

Bingos Masterlists // Supernatural Masterlist

“Hey, are you okay?” Claire asks tentatively, as she peeks her head into the room Dean’s in.

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” he tells her, and she watches as he tugs down the sleeve of his shirt to hide the mark. Claire stares at where it would be under the fabric for a second and then looks back at Dean. She can’t help but note how gorgeous he is, with the slight stubble he’s let grow and the way his green eyes are a slightly deeper green because he’s tired. She steps into the room and closes the door behind her.

“Dean, how much of being a demon do you remember?” she asks cautiously, getting closer.

“Pretty much all of it, if I was sober, not that I want to,” he tells her, clasping his hands in his lap as he sits on the edge of the bed. “Why?”

Claire braves sitting beside him on the bed, biting down on her bottom lip.

“Do you remember seeing me? On a hunt?” she pries. Dean frowns a little like he’s thinking about it, and then shakes his head.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he apologises, “why? What happened? Did I hurt you at all?” he asks immediately, clearly worried.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” she ressures him. “It’s just… you said… it doesn’t matter,” Claire’s blowing it, not able to get the words out.

“Are you sure?” Dean presses. He stares her right in the eye for a moment, and Claire just can’t stop herself, she tilts her head a little and presses her lips to his. For a second or two, Claire thinks Dean might just kiss her back, but the hope is short lived when he pulls away and frowns.

“Claire, what are you doing?” He reaches up to rub his lips dry, and Claire’s frozen. “Jesus, I’m just about old enough to be your dad,” he grunts.

“I’m sorry, It’s just… when you were a demon you…”

“What did I do, Claire?!” Dean presses, now more urgent than before.

“You really don’t remember?” she asks. Dean shakes his head. “You said that… If I was eighteen, then you’d… you know,” she stammers out, feeling her cheeks burning. “And well, I’m eighteen now…”

“Shit,” Dean grunts, shaking his head. “No, I’m sorry. I… that wasn’t me,” he excuses.

“So you don’t want me?” Tears fill Claire’s eyes and Dean sighs heavily.

“Listen, Claire, you’re a sweet kid but… You’re far too young for me, and you want a boy more your own age. I care about you a lot, okay? Just… not like this.” Each word is a blow to Claire’s stomach.

Ever since the night that he’d told her he’d be interested, if she was eighteen, she’d been thinking about it. And now it’s all she can think about, she’d been counting down the days until she could see Dean again and finally be old enough for him to want her too. But now she finds out that he doesn’t even want her at all? Claire gets up quickly and leaves the room, despite Dean calling out for her to come back. She’s holding in the tears of humiliation as she heads towards her own bedroom, only to hear Sam talking on the phone.

“Yeah, she’s fine... us too… don’t worry about it, we can stay here and keep an eye on her until you get back,” Sam says, telling Claire he’s on the phone to Jody. “Urm, yeah, so as long as Dean’s got the mark, if he dies, he could turn again,” Sam sighs. “We’re doing everything we can to get it removed.” Claire frowns at the revelation. If Dean dies again, the demonic version of himself will return? Maybe that’s just what she needs.

Claire shakily holds the knife to her side as she slips into the spare bedroom Dean’s occupying, and tries to find her way to the bed through the darkness. She climbs onto the bed once her knees have hit the mattress, and she crawls up the length of Dean’s body. Dean shifts in his sleep and then quickly sits up, turning on the lamp.

“Claire?! What the fuck are you doing?” Dean asks, his voice thick with sleep. Claire’s nervous, but she pushes through as she continues to climb his body and straddles his waist. “Claire, get off of me,” Dean tells her, gently but firmly trying to push her away. Clearly he doesn’t want to hurt her.

“This is your last chance to want me, Dean,” she tells him. “Just tell me you want me, please,” she begs, tears in her eyes. She tries to kiss him, but Dean pulls away before her lips meet his, and he holds her face in his hands.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, I really am, but this isn’t right, okay?” he tells her.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” she sniffles, pulling the knife out in front of her.

“Whoa, what are you doing, Claire?” Dean asks urgently.

“If I kill you, you’ll become a demon again, and then you’ll want me,” she tells him through tears, lining up the blade between two of his ribs.

“Claire! Claire, look at me, don’t do this, okay? You don’t know what you’re dealing with,” Dean warns her.

“But at least if I sacrifice you for the demon, you’ll want me.”

“But that’s not me, okay? It’s not, and the demon me could hurt you and a lot of other people. And if you do this, that would be on your conscience. Listen, put the knife down and we’ll talk about it properly, okay?” Dean panics.

“I have to sacrifice you, Dean. He wants me… he wants me,” she starts to remind herself quietly. Dean grips her wrist, stopping her from moving the knife, and she looks up at him as tears start to trickle down her cheeks.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do this.”

“I’m in love with you,” she confesses, crying quietly. Dean’s eyes soften a little and he sighs.

“Okay, okay, put down the knife, okay? We’ll work this out,” he reassures her.

“Really?” she checks.

“Yeah, put down the knife, and we can… you know…” he just nods, and Claire can tell that if he can’t even bring himself to say it, he won’t be able to do it. But she nods regardless, pulling the knife back a little, and Dean’s grip on her wrist loosens. Claire takes the opportunity whilst she can, not thinking on it a second longer as she plunges the blade into Dean’s stomach, and watches his eyes widen and his mouth fall open. She sobs as she watches him struggle to breathe, and leans forward and kisses him softly, and then he slumps down. Claire pulls the blade out and throws it on the floor, watching him intently for any signs that his demonic version is going to emerge, but all she can do is wait and wait and wait.

It feels like it’s been hours. What if Sam was wrong? What if she’s killed Dean for nothing? She’s still sobbing, hugging his lifeless body as she prays that he’ll come back. And then he shifts beneath her, and Claire sits up immediately, watching him slowly come around. The wound is healing now, and Dean opens his eyes, the black swallowing them. Fear paralyses her for a second, but then the greens she loves so much are back, and Claire lets out a breath.

“You fucking crazy bitch,” Dean chuckles when he notices her. “Did you really just fucking kill me just so you could fuck me?” Claire doesn’t answer, her mouth is dry as she waits for the confirmation he’s not mad, and he isn’t going to kill her. “I admire the commitment, you must really want my cock, huh?” he smirks.

There’s movement outside the room, and Claire realises the sun is coming up and it’s almost morning. Dean grips Claire’s wrist. “C’mon, I’m not having that brother of mine prod me with a bunch of fucking needles again.” He gets out of bed and tugs Claire behind him. But she’s willing to follow him anywhere at this point, and she does so, out of Jody’s house and towards the Impala. As Claire sits in the passenger side and watches Dean climb into the driver’s he smirks, his eyes glancing up and down her body. Claire feels a little self conscious, but the way Dean’s looking at her is a way she’s craved for so long now. And it only makes between her legs uncomfortable as he clicks his tongue, clearly happy with his view, and starts the engine.

Dean keeps looking over at Claire, his eyes raking over her body, and Claire’s getting more and more aroused by the hunger in his eyes as he looks at her. This is what she’s been so desperate for. Each glance gives her more confidence, until she’s biting her bottom lip and twisting in her seat, pressing her back to the door to face him side on. She’s still only in sleep wear – an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties — she opens her legs and only gets wetter when she sees Dean’s eyes fall straight to between them.

“Jesus, you’re gonna make me crash this fucking car,” he growls, gripping the steering wheel harder. Claire giggles a little, biting her bottom lip.

“Pull over, feel for yourself how wet I am.” Dean scoffs at her words, lifting a hand and flicking his fingers, beckoning her closer.

“C’mere, I’ve got a better idea.”

Claire scrambles to obey him. She isn’t usually so quick to take orders, but there’s something about the green eyed Winchester, particularly the demonic version of him, that has her desperate to please him, willing to do anything he says. And it’s not through fear, though there is a little of that in the back of her mind, but it only serves to turn her on more. Dean tugs down his sweats with one hand, his eyes flickering between what he’s doing and the road. Claire whimpers when she sees it in his fist. Not fully hard, but still thick and fairly long, and she bites her bottom lip as Dean reaches for the back of her head and tangles his fingers through her hair. He guides her mouth closer to his cock. She opens wide and obliges, sucking him down hard and deep.

“Should’a known you were gonna be so desperate to please, sweetheart,” Dean chuckles, keeping his hand on the back of her head. “Should’a fucked that little throat long before now, stretched that pussy open for your eighteenth birthday.” Claire moans around him, desperate to get that last inch inside her and be perfect. “You’re not a virgin are you, sweetheart? Nah, a cocksucker this good has gotta be a whore,” he chuckles.

Claire’s throat is sore, and she only lets up when she feels the Impala slowing down. Looking up, the sky is brighter and they’re pulling into a motel parking lot. Dean barely parks the car straight and tugs Claire off of him, before lazily stuffing his spit sodden erection back into his pants. He glances around and then climbs out of the car, and Claire watches, reaching up to wipe her puffy lips dry. Dean peers through one of the motel room windows and then kicks the door down. Once the door is wide open he flicks his fingers in a beckoning motion, and Claire scrambles out of the car to join him. The door doesn’t shut properly behind them once Claire’s inside, but Dean doesn’t seem to care. He grips her hair again and drags her over to the bed, throwing her down onto it, and reaching back inside his sweats for his cock once more.

“You’ve been such a desperate little slut for me already, just begging for my cock, aren’t ya?” he sniggers. Claire nods her head, moaning softly at the feeling of him tugging on her hair like that. “Maybe I should fucking tie you to this bed and invite all the men in to fuck you as I watch. I’d fucking like that, would you?” Claire nods again, liking the sound of anything that Dean wants.

“Yes please, Dean, whatever you want, use me, please,” she pleads.

“Would you beg them as pretty as you’re begging me? Would fucking love to hear you beg for their cum, let them fill you up,” Dean grunts.

“Anything you want,” Claire repeats, truthfully.

“Oh, baby girl, you wanna be careful making promises like that.” Dean chuckles maliciously, pushing her back onto the bed and ripping her panties down her legs. “Because you know what I really want?” Dean asks, humming as he rubs his thumb over her clit.

Claire’s mind is spinning as she bucks her hips up into his touch, and she feels herself practically dripping for him.

“See, this cunt is so fucking tight, I bet it’ll hurt to get my cock in there,” he starts, “so, two cocks? Now that would be a fucking sight. Splitting your tiny little pussy open on two cocks, whilst you’re being such a fucking whore for me.” The thought makes Claire moan loudly.

“Please Dean, use me,” she begs, shamelessly.

“Oh I will, sweetheart, gonna use this little body all up.” He sinks two fingers inside her and scissors them. The sudden stretch burns, but Claire knows it’ll be nothing compared to his actual cock, and she can’t wait. The motel door bursting open steals both of their attention.

“Dean?! What the fuck are you doing?” The sight of Sam filling the doorway should make Claire scared, but after all the dirty talking Dean’s been doing, she only feels more aroused, imagining him storming over here and fucking her too.

“Hey, Sammy, just in time,” Dean chuckles. “Was just telling Claire how much I’d love to see her split open on two cocks, whaddya say?” Sam looks horrified by the question, and Claire can’t stop the whimper escaping her lips.

“Please, Sam,” she begs, wanting to give Dean everything he wants.

“Dean get the fuck off of her!” Sam shouts. Dean laughs, getting up off of the bed and leaving Claire desperate for attention again as he walks over to his brother. He makes a show of sucking his fingers clean of Claire’s juices and hums.

“Don’t be jealous, Sammy. You know I’m always up for sharing my toys. All you gotta do is ask.”

“Dean, Claire is–”

“So fucking desperate for my cock that I could get her to do anything,” Dean finishes for him. “C’mere, slut, come suck Sam’s cock.” Claire doesn’t even care how pathetic she looks as she slides off of the bed and tries to get to Sam. “How’d you find me anyway?”

“Tracked you. I put a tracker on your phone after –” he cuts himself short when he sees Claire at his feet. “Claire, stop.” “What’s wrong, Sammy? She’s good. Haven’t you ever imagined how she’d feel wrapped around you?”

Sam clenches his jaw.

“So, you’re back then,” he finally huffs.

“Took you long enough, brother,” Dean smirks. “Claire here just needed me so badly, she was happy to sacrifice the old Dean for the better model.” Claire is so drunk on arousal, she’s palming at his cock through his sweats and begging for it under her breath.

“Have you fucking drugged her?” Sam spits out.

“Oh no, Sammy, this is all her. She’s just this much of a whore, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Claire nods eagerly, biting her bottom lip.

“Please, Dean, I want you to stretch me out. Two cocks, just like you said,” she pleads.

“Hear that, Sammy? Two cocks, what d’ya say?” Sam clenches his jaw again, but Dean presses harder. “Y’know, I still remember that time in Tennessee, back in the day. Fucking your cum back into that slut’s cunt was pretty fucking hot. We should relive it.”

“Jesus, Dean,” Sam mutters under his breath.

“C’mon, you know you loved it too,” Dean teases. “She’s fucking tight, man, we’d split her in two on our own, let alone together.”

Claire takes some initiative and reaches up to palm over Sam’s crotch, and he doesn’t pull away like she was expecting him to, which only makes her wetter.

“Look at her, she wants you so fucking bad, dude,” Dean chortles.

“If I do this, promise you’ll come back with me? And we’ll cure you again,” Sam compromises.

“No, no,” Claire protests. “Please, Dean,” she whimpers.

“Ruin the girl with me and we’ll discuss it.” Sam holds his hands over his face, but he can’t hide the fact that he’s getting hard underneath Claire’s hand.

“This is so fucked up, Dean,” Sam warns him.

“Live a little, Sammy.”

“Dean, don’t do this, just come back with me, and we’ll fix this,” Sam begs.

“If you don’t want to fuck the girl, then I can leave you and my cell here and take her somewhere else,” Dean threatens. “And who knows how long I’ll be gone this time, or just what damage I might do.”

Claire feels a hand in her hair and realises it’s Sam, and he pulls her to her feet and forces her head back, so she’s looking him in the eye.

“You really want this? You wanna reduce yourself to this, just for him? You know he doesn’t love you, right?” Sam asks, frowning. Claire shakes her head, not wanting to hear it. She can still pretend, for as long as he wants her and touches her and gives her attention, she can pretend that he loves her, that the sacrifice she made wasn’t for nothing.

“Please, Sam, fuck me,” she whimpers.

“You heard her, begging so pretty, Sammy, how can you say no?” Dean taunts. Claire reaches down and rubs over his semi-hard cock again, and Sam grunts under his breath, pushing her over to the bed. Claire whimpers as she falls back onto it, and the smug look on Dean’s face is only turning her on more as he too stalks to the bed. “Fuck her, Sammy, wanna watch you split her in two,” Dean smirks, his eyes turning jet black.

“Please, Sammy,” Claire begs too, opening her legs wider.

“Fuck,” Sam mutters under his breath, ripping into his jeans and pulling his erection free. He grips Claire’s legs and spreads them wider, not even looking at her as he lines himself up and thrusts inside, fucking her hard and fast from the offset. Claire moans, her eyes rolling, and Dean climbs onto the bed and presses down on the base of Claire’s stomach, so it bulges everytime Sam thrusts inside. He reaches into his sweats and pulls his still hard cock free, pressing it to Claire’s lips. Claire automatically opens her mouth and welcomes him in, sucking him down as she stares at his face through her lashes. He’s biting on him bottom lip, his brow furrowed as he watches Sam fuck in and out of her pussy, stretching her open with a delicious burn.

“You like that, baby girl? Like my little brother fucking you open? Getting you nice and ready for my cock?” he asks. Claire doesn’t know how to reply, not until Dean adds, “looks so fucking good, I can’t wait to fuck his cum back into you.” And then she moans and nods around him, happy that he’s happy.

Sam grunts, his fingers digging into Claire’s thighs and Dean clicks his tongue.

“Oh, Sammy, has it been too long? Gonna cum already? Fill her cunt, c’mon,” Dean encourages, “make it a sloppy mess for me.”

“You’re fucked up,” Sam gasps, closing his eyes.

“Yeah, maybe, but I’ve got an excuse, what’s yours, Sammy?” Sam’s mouth falls open as he cums hard inside Claire, his hips stuttering and Claire moans loudly around Dean’s cock as she feels the warmth inside her. “Move,” Dean commands his brother, and Dean’s eager to replace where Sam had been kneeling as he spreads Claire’s pussy wide open. She can feel Sam’s cum trickle out of her, and watches as Dean smirks at the sight. Sam’s standing at the side of the bed recovering, as he starts to put himself away.

“Watch this, Sammy,” Dean smirks, gripping the base of his cock and rubbing it through Sam’s cum and Claire’s slick. Claire whimpers, spreading her legs wider of her own accord.

“Dean,” Sam speaks up, a warning tone to his voice.

“Don’t be selfish, Sammy, just because you got your happy ending, I still need mine.”

“Dean, I can’t… we shouldn’t be doing this,” Sam whimpers. His cell phone starts ringing and he curses. “Fuck. It’s Jody.”

“Tell her we’re taking really good care of her girl,” Dean sniggers, still slicking his cock with Sam and Claire’s combined juices.

“Don’t fucking move,” Sam warns with a growl that Dean clearly isn’t threatened by, and leaves the room quickly. Dean watches him leave and then chuckles quietly to himself, looking back between Claire’s legs.

“Now, where were we, baby girl?” Dean hums, “fuck this cunt is so messy. You’re so ready for me, aren’t you? I’m gonna fuck you so much better than Sammy did. See, I just wanted you to realise baby, who the better brother is. Sammy didn’t even make you cum, huh?” Dean smirks, teasing her entrance with just the tip of his cock. She shakes her head instantly and Dean only smirks deeper. “That’s right, he fucked you like all those other boys probably did. But I’m gonna fuck you the way a slut like you craves,” he promises, sinking another inch inside.

“And when I’m through with you, you’ll love me even more, and you’ll never want to listen to Sammy again” –another inch inside– “just you and me, right, baby girl?”

“Yes, Dean, please,” she begs, desperately.

“Alright baby, whatever you want, just keep those legs spread for me, let me see you take every last inch.” Claire bites on her bottom lip and moans again, her eyes rolling as he thrusts the final inches inside and bottoms out. She can feel Sam’s cum leaking out around him, down to her ass. Claire takes a deep breath and smiles. This was definitely worth the sacrifice.

Always and Forevers: @foxyjwls007 / @waywardbaby / @tatted-trina6 / @lunarmoon8 / @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone / @warrior-angel / @impalaspixie / @sexyvixen7

* * *

Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13 / @akshi8278 / @notyourtypicalrose / @angelofthetrenchcoats / @pyroqueen-k / @collette04 / @impala1967dwinchester / @blueaura / @beth-winchester21 / @laxe-chester67 / @bobbie3939 / @jaydahlynne / @michellemxndes / @allys-creative-bubble / @squirrelnotsam / @chocolateheart / @cluz1babe / @musicalraven100 / @iceythelostwinchester / @cutiecowgirl / @sacriceria / @pink-sparkly-witch / @justanotherficreader / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @idblamekate

* * *

Binge Culture Tags: @inquisitor-selvala / @irmcpar

#sacrifice #spndarkbingo #winchesterandbeyondbingo #dean x claire #sam x claire #demon!dean #smut #dark fic #dub con #tw: dub con #angst #oneshot #spn fan fic #supernatural fan fiction #negans-lucille-tblr

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superbadassnatural · 3 years

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One Last Fight

Summary: The hunt goes wrong, and Sam finds himself unable to stop the inevitable. Square filled: Blood Pairing: Sam x Reader Word count: 764 Warnings: character death, blood, angst A/N: this was written for @spndarkbingo. Please, enjoy!

(x)

A gasp echoed within the concrete walls of the warehouse. Your eyes widened and dipped to the knife buried between your ribs. You whimpered, looking up at the demon as a devilish smirk spread on her lips.

Sam’s head whipped in your direction. His heart nearly stopped as panic settled in his mind.

“No,” a scream cut its way past his lips. He rushed to you, legs moving on their own as his grip on the demon blade tightened. “No, no, no, no.”

The woman pulled the knife, its dents ripping your skin even further. You gasped. Before your knees could meet the ground, the demonic eyes glowed an orange hue as Sam plunged the blade into the back of the demon’s head.

Your hand clutched to your wound, fingers clasping the ripped skin. Your legs started to falter. Sam’s arms were quick to wrap around you and not let you fall. He lowered you to the ground slowly. Tears welled in your eyes when the metallic taste of blood hit your tongue.

“Hey, hey,” Sam called, his hand pressing to your wound. “Stay with me, okay? Stay with me.”

Small ragged gasps left your throat as the airway closed. One of your hands flew to your neck, nails clawing at your skin, and the other to Sam’s arm, fingers biting into the fabric of his flannel. You panicked. Blood started dripping from the corner of your mouth as you spluttered.

“No, no, no, no,” his eyes lifted from the injury to your face. He blinked back his tears. “You’re not dying on me. You are not dying on me.”

The blood gushed rapidly, in time with your heartbeat. The more you panicked, the more it flowed. It came thick and warm against his hand, his finger coated in red. He pressed harder, trying to stop the bleeding.

Your body convulsed as you tried hard to breathe. You couldn’t die. Not now. Not like this. This couldn’t be your last hunt. This couldn’t be the last time you were seeing Sam.

Tears coursed down your face. You spluttered, your own blood suffocating you.

Everything moved in slow motion before Sam’s eyes. He saw as you fought to breathe. The sounds of your suffocated gasps and splutters echoed in his ears. There was nothing else but you in his arms. Sam didn’t hear his brother desperately praying for help. He didn’t see Dean on his knees in front of him, fear all over his features. His solemn focus was on you.

The convulsions started to cease slowly. The blood didn’t come in red jets anymore. It came in a constant flow against Sam’s palm. He knew it wasn’t stopping because of the pressure he was applying. No. Your heart was stopping. It didn’t have enough strength nor blood to pump through your veins to keep you alive. It was failing.

Your hand fell on top of his, giving it a faint squeeze before laying limp. Sam sobbed. Your eyes became dull as your mouth hung open in a small circle. A single tear rolled down the side of your face.

“No,” Sam cried. “Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.”

His large hands cradled your face. The scarlet blood on his palm stained your skin. His thumb stroked your cheek as he sobbed.

“Come back to me, please.”

He closed your eyes, and his heart shattered in his chest.

“Sammy,” Dean’s hoarse voice called for his brother, his hand resting on his arm. Sam glanced up to his big brother. Dean would fix this.

“We need to bring her back,” he said adamantly. “I need to do something. I have to bring her back.”

“Sammy, no,” Dean shook his head, silently pleading. “I can’t lose you, man. You know it never ends well.”

“I don’t care what happens to me.”

“Well, I do,” the hunter wiped his tears. “I can’t lose you. I won’t let you throw your life away. I can’t let you do that.”

“Dean, I need to bring her back,” Sam cried.

“You think she’d want that? She’d want you to give up your life so she could live? She wouldn’t want that. She’d want you to carry on.”

“We need to try something. There’s always another way.”

Dean couldn’t stand seeing his brother suffering. It broke him to see Sam that way.

“We can try something, okay?” Dean said, hand running through his hair. “But I won’t lose you in the process, Sam. I won’t. You have to promise me that.”

Sam sighed, biting his bottom lip and nodding. “I promise.”

Please, consider sharing your thoughts with me via reply, reblog or ask! I’d love to know what you think of this one.

Hunters: @hobby27 @thewinchesterandreidwhore @tatted-trina6 @doozywoozy @mogaruke @babypink224221 @leah-winchester6-blog-blog @deascheck

Sam’s Babes: @maya-craziness @chrissylexi @danneelsmain @samwinchesterjaredjensen @percywinchester27 @deascheck

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katelyn--renee · 3 years

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spndarkbingo · 3 years

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drkcnry67 · 3 years

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your tricks shall not work now

title: your tricks shall not work now

pairing: dean x reader

H&H: tortured on the rack

dark: thanatophobia

tags: hell, rack torture, blood, mess, gore?????, messy descriptions, mentions of post coming back from the dead suddenly prego... i cant remember if there is anything else.

rating: pg 14

written for @heavenandhellbingo @spndarkbingo @sweetness47

summery: not telling

You had gone to hell, you got sent there when you died. Shortly after the love of your life had been sent to the worst place.

You had no idea that when you would see him is when you were put on the rack.. your biggest fear had been death, so when death came for you, you were terrified, you were not expecting death, you were on a hunt, a demon sent hell hounds at you when your back was turned, you died in Sam's arms.

Yes Sam had been there, he was there helping you with the hunt. But he didn't see the hell hounds either, he didnt know that you would die right there, he didn't know that within a few short months he would loose both the people closest to him.

After what felt like months of sitting in irons in a dungeon cell, you were dragged to the rack… the rack of torture it's where all souls sent to hell face their regrets, their fears, their darkness.

Dean was already choosing his weapon of choice, but when he turned to face you, his eyes were shocked, cold and angry…

Dean: another one of your tricks, I won't fall for it again… I shall torture and kill her again again and again… as many time as it takes to show you all that this doesn't bother me.

You were not sure yet how many times the demons had made replicas of you for him to torture but you knew it must have been alot for he seemed annoyed and angry…

Dean: fine you want me to torture her again, firm… but I'll do one better I'll torment the memories of this one as well… see what I find…

Yn: wait de it's me, it's really me, please don't do this… the first time we met you saved my life, you saved me from hell hounds my family had been marked for death…

Dean slashed you cross the chest…. You cried out in pain. A sound that made him cringe.

Dean: your different… Flesh fresh blood. Let's see your memories, let's see how yours are compared to the last one.

You screamed as he stuck his blade tip against your forehead and peered into your memories.

The first memory that he saw was you and he sitting in his and Sam's motel room after they rescued you, he was resetting your shoulder and patching your wounds then he kissed you out of the blue to make you forget the pain.

Once Dean and you pulled out of that memory, he looked at you and the following words came out of his mouth.

Dean: no one knew about that kiss, whatever kind of sick twisted game you are playing here you stupid son of a bitch it's not gonna work… now let's see what else your hiding

You screamed again as Dean and you went back into your memories, to the day you and he consummated your love, you lost your virginity to this wonderful man, no one else knew till after that it was happening, or that it happened.

Dean and you watched the entire memory and then pulled back out only to have Dean exclaim once more except he now slashes your body in various places a few times.

Dean: what the hell are you, how do you know all this…

Yn: de it's me like it's really me… please don't hurt me, you don't want to please… remember all the times where you and I reset each other after many hunts, remember how many nights we just passed out in the impala cause of the massive amounts of exhaustion from whatever large hunt we just did… remember how good it felt just wasting the morning in bed, cuddled watching each other just in peace and quiet, remember all the drives that we would just take, just ripping the impala down the road at all hours.

He slashed you again instead of saying any words then he sliced once more into your forehead. You screamed again louder this time, it was almost ultra sonic soundwaves, as once more the memory started…

This was a month before Dean had died, it was a good day, slow and steady but with the hunt of ghouls, ghouls blood and guts everywhere you and Dean both covered in monster gunk, but Dean before entering the impala now gets down on one knee and starts serenading you went something like this:

Dean: marry me Juliet you never have to be alone I love you and that's all we ever know, I talked to my bro he welcomes you to the family, it's our love story baby please say yes!

Your eyes went wide with shock your boyfriend of almost 5 years on one knee with a ring proposing while you both are covered in monster guts…

Yn: yes! Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!

But this time Dean didn't yell or slash you, when he pulled out for your memory.. he instead signalled for the guards to bring you back to your cell…

Dean marched right up to Alistair and immediately grabbed him by the neck lifting him off the ground..

Dean: what kind of twisted game are you playing here

Alistair: I assure you Dean I have no idea to what you refer

Dean: you have been telling your lackys to illusion themselves to look like the love of my life for however long know. But this one, this latest one is sickening… how the hell does this one have all those memories…

Alistair laughed for he had no idea that Dean had not figured it out ..

Dean: what is so funny you skanky demon

Alistair: that really is your girl Dean, she really is here… she arrived a while ago, mauled by hell hounds tragic really… she sold her soul just for information whether you were okay or not. So the young girl you just slashed, tortured and peered into the memories of really was your girl.

Dean all angry and in a huff, now goes to your cell as alistair is left hanging on the wall where dean had him, and your cell door flies open as dean comes in once more up to you and peers again into your memories… this time going to the one memory that was both a memory and a fear, more like a nightmare.

Dean sees the day that he died, he sees as he dies in your arms, he then sees your reaction to after his death. You were so scared, angry and distraught he watched you fall apart.

Then still in the memory a few days later he watched as you sold your soul for the chance to know if he was alright or not.

He felt your fear, pain, confusion, anger. He felt it all for he not only knew that you were the real thing but now he knew what you went through to get here.

Dean snaps out of the memory and backs up against the wall but before he can say anything he slashes you 17 times, before a bright light engulfs you both.

Dean wakes up a while later in a pine box, he busts his way out and realizes he has been brought back. He starts down a long road to try to get himself to civilization, to try to find you, or at least your body.

You wake up in a morgue, your body had been preserved, frozen, put on ice. When you started to wake up your body started thawing.

The doctors called Sam and Bobby both of whom rushed in only to see you shoot straight up breathing heavily.

Sam: someone hand me a blanket… now!!!

Bobby: I want your security team to give me this rooms footage now…

Sam brought you a blanket and a cup of hot chocolate and some water. They sat you in a private room hooked you with an IV and brought you some clothes from the gift shop. After speaking with cops and doctors you were finally left alone with sam and bobby.

Sam: whats your birthday?

Yn: 01-21-1993

Sam: do you know who you are?

Yn: yn yln

Sam: do you remember what happened to you?

You shivered the thought of the day you died was horrific for you. It amplifies your thanatophobia to a 1,000,000,000,000,000… but you nod, not wanting to speak, instead you break into tears… then remembering what happened in hell.

Sam: keep yourself calm for a while, try to tell us what happened to you… where did you end up…

Yn: sam, bobby, i ended up in hell, i saw him… dean he is down there too.. Or was i dont know if he got swept up in the white light too or if it was just me… the last thing i remember is dean coming into the cell where i was held and peering again into my memories kept calling me fake and asking me to reveal my true form… but something spooked him, something about the last memory he viewed spooked him. He was slashing me when the light over took me and my sight. Sam it was awful, i feel so terrible, the cold blackness in his eyes i cant ever look at him the same way again, but if im back what if he is too…

Neither sam nor bobby had thought about this, neither one of them believed it to be possible. Usually to bring someone back from the dead a demon deal of some kind. You were alive now cause of a miracle, but something stirred within sam and bobby enough, that bobby called ellen and had her radio out and see if anyone could check on the site where dean had been buried.

While sam helped to get you, dressed and checked out. The doctors were a little lenient realizing you had been dead a few short hours prior to now you should be with your loved ones, so they booked you for a follow up appointment.

Dean has been in a abandoned or closed convenience store already, taken some playboys, some bottled water, some snacks, and money… then he found a pay phone he decided to call bobby.

Bobby who was with you and sam answers the phone. Called dean a hooligan and threatens him before he hangs up most aggressively. When asked bobby said it was just a stupid kid pulling a prank.

The 3 of you headed back to bobby’s upon exiting the hospital. No one expecting anyone to show up there cept maybe jo or ellen or Jodi Upon them hearing your alive.

Other than that their main priority was to catch you up to speed, what you had missed, the signs, the hunts everything but all you could focus on was the fact that your fiance the love of your life might also be back from the dead.

Yn: guys I feel something…

You grip your shoulder as a mark starts to appear, but it looks tattered and broken.

Sam: what the hell is that…

Bobby: let me check some books in the mean time Sam fill her in on what happened to you… she deserves to know the truth, ya idiot. If Dean is back he will probably be coming this way, and we both know that she and he will both want answers, we need to provide Them with dignity, something after today I don't have alot of at the moment. Now take care of her before I loose my mind, I'm gonna go over the books.

Bobby goes into he study, you and Sam are in the kitchen, you begin to rummage for something to make for dinner.

Sam: what are you doing kiddo

Yn: I'm looking for something to make us for dinner. I need to do something to feel useful.

Sam: you need to get better

Yn: Sam I am fine. I'm alive and kicking. What I need is to feel useful, right now it means making dinner, geez guys all the fast food, what happened to a home cooked meal.

Sam: good point on the last bit… but what is this obsession you have with wanting to be useful.

Yn: well for one thing I cant really hunt till i fully recover, for another cooking doesnt really take alot of effort.

Sam: i mean you are the better cook, dont worry about it. Im sure it will be fine.

Ha thats what you all thought, for later on that day you were out with rumsfeld for a walk, along the trail where you had been taking in the scenery. Dean however was pulling up onto the lot in a beat up old truck that he had hotwired from the middle of butt screw no where, you were not there, sam was in town getting groceries like a good man. Both you and sam would soon come home to find dean and bobby having a very strange reunion.

Dean walks through the front door, bobby comes out of the study and looks up from the papers he is holding. He drops the papers and grabs a knife from the block.

Dean: bobby its me…

Bobby: like hell it is… dean winchester died 4 months ago. You dare to bring his form into this house, let's see how you like a taste of Silver

Bobby lunges with the silver knife at Dean who dodges and grabs it away from him.

Dean: your name is Robert singer you became a hunter after your wife was murdered. I wouldn't know that if I wasn't the real thing.

Bobby: your a shape Shifter or a revenant

Dean looks down at the knife he is holding and then rolls his eyes.

Dean: if I was either of those would I do this

Dean takes the silver knife and drags it across his forearm. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Bobby immediately goes up to Dean and pinches his cheeks.

To which Dean simply pushed Bobby off slightly before Bobby hugged him. Pulling back though Bobby slaps Dean cross the face…

Bobby: you know damn well ya idjit that you left that poor girl alone Dean, you made a deal to save Sam, you died again to save Sam, you have a girl who is crazy enough to walk this hunters path with you and you choose to save your brother over her. You really aren't smart are you.

Dean: I know Bobby, I know I fucked up, I fucked up real bad here Bobby, I just wasn't in a good place, but then Sam came back and all the stuff with Lilith and demon blood and and and… but she Bobby, yn is the one thing that's always been constant. I know I hurt her when I proposed then I died, well that was the worst mistake of my life. But there was something else, something that those demonic fuckers down in hell wouldn't tell me but they kept appearing in the form of YN and kept telling me that she was gonna be an amazing person within a few years. But I to this moment still have no idea what the hell they meant. But when I was in hell, I don't know if she told you this, but she was brought to me, I was torturing souls on the rack, I was loving it, slicing and dicing but when she was put on the rack, and I peered into her memories like I had done with all the others I saw me and her things we had never told anyone. Things that only she would know, I didn't know it was actually her till before we got swept up in balls of white light. I woke up in a pine box in the middle of no where ville thanks for that by the way, and I assume my bride to be is around here somewhere but I have a question for you. What the hell is going on with the massive yard clutter outside, did a convention of broken cars roll into town…

Bobby slaps Dean up side the head for that joke before showing him the newspaper clippings and the reports on each car…

Bobby: people have been claiming that cows and other such wildlife just started randomly, started around the time you and yn died.

You were just coming back up the to the house now, rumsfeld ahead of you barges through the door, knocking Dean over with kisses.

Bobby: figure out what you are gonna say now, before this girl walks in the door… you have 2 seconds before she walks in.

Sure enough as soon as dean gets up off the ground and is about speak to bobby, you walk right through the door, you pull your nine gauge out of your boot and point it at dean’s back. This starts a fight, one that you intended to do yourself, dean turns round to push you right out the door.

Bobby just lets this little spat play out, for he knew the truth but he also wanted you to figure it out for yourself. He watches as sam pulls up, sam comes up to the porch avoiding the crossfire.

Sam: how…

Bobby: well that is the answers we need to find out, but she came inside and pointed her 9 gauge at him. He wasnt gonna go through the same speel he went through with me not 10 minutes before. But her having her gun at him, now that just made him edgy. He wants her to realize that its him, not some revenant, or shapeshifter.

Sam: well i guess we just let them fight it out, either they will end up in the lake and alright or one of them will knock sense into the other.

They both went inside to put away the groceries that sam had brought home. You and dean were still going at it. You both were not being gentle about it either…

there would be hell so to speak to pay when you both figure out the truth.

Dean: okay demon your tricks are no longer working what's with the phony disguise tell me who you really are ..

Dean screamed at you as he held you pinned beneath him. You managed to pick one of your legs free, you were now royally pissed off and would take angry for 1000 dollars if this was jeopardy. But you managed to flip your fiance and yourself into the lake.

You held him firm restraining his arms and limiting his movement, as you spoke with a bunch of force that you had no idea would ever ever come out.

YN: dean it is me, like actually me… you saved my life from a hunt gone wrong, you trained me, you took my virginity from me, you are the only man i have ever ever loved, and to top it all off, i think im pregnant… i know i know its not even remotely possible considering i was DEAD… but i dont know i feel different like something is growing within, and i know its your baby dean… now if this doesnt work then i dont know what will.

You kissed him and felt him slowly relax into the kiss, you shared all your memories of hell, what dean did what happened what torture you experienced, dean however was the one to break the kiss, you loosened your grip on him and felt him relax, but his reaction was to hug you instead of yelling.

For he had seen what you went through and he knew right then and there that you were indeed the hero of this day…

Dean: yn im so sorry.. Im so sorry for what happened to you. I know you would not have wanted this to happen like this , but if you are indeed pregnant then we will take it as it comes, but you are the most important thing in my life, im so sorry for what i did in hell, it wasnt right but it also was not me, i wasnt in control of those actions or thoughts. I was fed lies by the demons and i was their puppet. Now lets go see if you are indeed pregnant and let those 2 people on dry land know that we are okay.

Sure enough taking a huge leep of faith you both got out of the lake, sam and bobby were both waiting on the porch for you guys to come back to the house. They had towels and let you both get changed and dried off. Sam dried your gun off, and cleaned it for you.

You and dean then went into town, bought a few pregnancy tests, and went back home and immediately to the bathroom, you peed on the stick and waited in the arms of your fiance. But just as the results came in thats when sam walked in.

Sam: omg wait are you…

You walked over to the results, you immediately collapsed to your knees.

Dean: i assume you are up here with good reason sammy…

Sam: yes i found something it might be related to you both coming back. Apparently this guy says that he cant enter his barn without hearing this ringing sound. He said that it sounds as though some sort of high pitched sonic siren type deal is going off.

Dean: ya ya i heard something similar to that when i woke up.

Sam: well you and yn should go check it out. Like right now, like as in it can't wait, and plus you need a few hours to get there… like 4 hours in particular.

You got off the floor and marched up to your brother in law…

Yn: are you insane I just found out I'm pregnant… I'm not…

Dean: don't worry sweetheart I will do most of the drive… plus maybe we can make time to look at baby stuff…

You looked at your fiance, and nodded. Dean turned to Sam as you packed a duffle bag…

Dean: send me the coordinates. We will manage from there.

You and Dean were prepped and out the door in 10 minutes. You were in the passenger side of the impala, Dean didn't put on music but instead stuck his arm around you, and you were lulled by his heartbeat to sleep.

This was not a light situation for you and Dean arrived at the barn and went inside you had your gun, Dean had his… you guys brought everything you thought you might need.

That's when you heard it… you and Dean both heard it… a loud high pitched siren like noise. That's when a man appeared at the far end of the barn. Through the noise Dean managed to get off a few rounds of rock salt.

It had no effect. Dean and you stand huddled together before the hand prints on yours and deans arms glowed.

Castiel: Dean, yn. My name is Castiel I am an angel of the Lord. I was the one who gripped you both tight and raised you both out of perdition, this child you are carrying will save the world, will take the place of one of you destined to die in the apocalypse.

This made you and Dean stay still, neither for you moved nor spoke… it was just silent as you and Dean tried to wrap your minds around what you had been told.

~to be continued~

#heaven and hell bingo #spndarkbingo

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deansmultitudes · 3 years

Text

ice cold // dean x cas, au // M; angst // 2,7k // AO3

Warnings: mcd, falling through ice, drowning // written for @spndarkbingo square ‘sleepaway camp’ and challenge square ‘huddling for warmth’; @spndeanbingo square ‘castiel’; @writersofdestiel writer’s choice bingo square ‘fracture’

The winter camp counselor is an idiot: that’s how you get an accident. The ice on the lake seems thick enough but it isn’t: that’s how you get a tragedy.

A dozen pairs of sharp blades clink and scrape against the hard surface of the ice. With each passing second the tension in Dean’s muscles grows, his eyes sweep across the lake diligently.

He just wants to go back to the cabin, crawl under the blankets with his boyfriend and not have to worry about everyone’s safety. But right now, in the cabin, the jerk counselor is probably having too much fun with the camp owner's daughter. There’s a reason he told the whole group to go skating and doesn’t give a damn what happens next.

“We should go back there and kick his ass,” Dean says when Cas sits down on the bench next to him.

“He said not to come back until dinner.” Cas checks his watch as if the time had magically jumped forward a few hours.

“Since when do you do what you’re told, Cas?”

A chuckle escapes Cas’s mouth with a puff of white breath in the cold air around them.

“Never,” he says, leaning to Dean to leave a kiss on his temple. “But just because we’re the oldest here doesn’t mean you’re responsible for everybody.”

“Yeah but it does mean that no one listens to me when I say this is a terrible idea,” Dean grumbles.

Cas wraps his arm around Dean’s shoulders to comfort him. Maybe nothing bad will happen. Maybe the ice is as thick as it seems: the temperatures have been low for the last few days—

Way too far from the shore, Alicia Banes, the I-Tonya-wannabe, springs into the air to do a salchow and Dean’s breath catches in his throat.

There is a version of this story in which Alica’s a little worse of a skater and she botches the landing. She lands flat on her back instead of on her blades and spends the following few days with a mild confusion. Maybe in that version a visit to the hospital is necessary. But at least, it’s just a hospital, not a morgue, and Alicia makes it home.

Well, Alicia always makes it home.

Not everyone does, because this is not that story and Alicia took some skating lessons on her local ice rink and has been training to do salchows ever since. So she’s good at them. So she lands it perfectly on the sharpened edge of her blades.

The physics do the rest. The thin, strained ice gives in.

Just like that, she’s gone under.

Dean’s already halfway there before Alicia’s brother can raise the alarm.

“Get the hell off the ice!” he yells to the panicking kids, frozen in their spots.

He grabs Alicia’s brother by the back of his jacket and yanks him away. There’s nothing he can do to help and saving two is much harder than saving one.

As the chaos and cries begin to fade in the distance, Dean drops to his stomach to distribute his weight, and crawls toward the hole in the ice.

Alicia isn’t there. There’s not even a tip of her head poking up through the water’s surface, not a sign of her gloved palm reaching out to try to grab onto something.

With quick but careful motions, he clears off the snow covering the ice around the hole for a better look. A bright yellow spot drifts just under the surface. Alicia’s hat. She’s under the ice.

Bobby always said that once you go under the ice, there is no going back.

Dean’s gonna prove him wrong.

He bangs as hard as he can against the ice above her, but ironically, it won’t break on his whim. He keeps calling her, hoping that she can hear him. That’s she’s not unconscious yet and his voice can lead her toward the opening. It must be scary and confusing down there, but maybe that is all that it takes.

It’s not. There’s no reaction: her face doesn’t turn up, he palms don’t slam against the ice. She doesn’t move. She can’t hear him or can’t react.

He’s running out of time.

Mindful of the thin ice beneath him, he unties his boots and kicks them off.

“What the hell are you planning, Dean?” Cas calls, crawling towards him.

“I won’t reach her from here,” Dean says, trying to keep his voice calm.

“You can’t go in there!”

Of course he can’t. But he has no other choice. Alicia’s just a kid. He can’t let her drown because of some dude’s criminal incompetence.

“She’s gonna die, Cas!”

He doesn’t need Cas to use his words, he can see it in the fear painted on his face. You might die, too.

“Help is coming.”

Good. They’ll be there to pull Dean out if something goes wrong and pulling himself out of there isn’t an option. At least he’ll be able to try to stay afloat.

But they won’t make it in time to save Alicia, because there is no time at all.

Dean slips off his jacket and takes off his belt. He loops one end around his wrist and hands the other end to Cas.

“You’ll help me find my way back.”

Cas doesn’t protest. He knows there’s no way to stop Dean. He knows this is the only right thing to do, even if it’s risky and stupid like hell. He wraps the end of the belt around his fist.

There’s no time for Dean to get slowly accustomed to the freezing water—if that’s possible at all. He slides right into it, gently, not to sink completely and lose his sense of direction.

Ten million needles stab into his body. Freakin’ freezing doesn’t cut it. It’s closer to burning.

He doesn’t try to hold back a scream but his throat gets too tight to let it out.

He blinks, breathing heavily. The only thought in his numbed mind is to get out of there. But Alicia…it’s her he has to focus on. He tries to poise himself but his eyes drift around, looking for the right direction.

“There!” Cas calls, pointing out to his left.

Dean can’t see her from there, but he trusts Cas. He takes a deep breath and dives down. Despite the pain, he keeps his eyes open. Alicia’s dark shape is right in front of him.

At first, his arms and legs refuse to move, like the signals from the brain freeze somewhere on their way. He manages to force some motion, to swim towards Alicia, but it’s like swimming in molasses spiked with crushed glass.

Above his head, the hard layer of ice separates him from air. The glassy lid of his casket.

No, he’ll be fine. He can’t start panicking now. If he does, they’re both done for. His wrist still has the belt around it, obstructing his movements, and he has to trust that if things go badly, Cas will save him.

He keeps pushing forward, until he can reach Alicia. She doesn’t move but there are still bubbles of air floating out of her nose.

Now all Dean has to do is get them both out of there. He yanks the belt twice to give Cas a sign and feels a pull in return. He bats his legs to propel them. The ice seems endless and his lungs are screaming for air.

But then it ends and his head’s above water again, he can breathe again. He pushes Alicia up to hand her over to Cas. Together they manage to get her out.

Cas is reluctant to leave Dean alone in the water.

“She’s still drowning,” Dean says, his voice trembling. “I’m good. Pull her closer to the bank and get her breathing.”

With a nod, Cas lets go of the belt and moves with Alicia to safety. Holding onto the edge of the ice, trying to calm his breath even as his body’s burning, Dean watches Cas conduct CPR on Alicia. Soon, with a spurt of water, she comes to. In the distance, resounds the wailing of sirens. The EMTs will take care of her, she’ll be just fine.

Dean will be fine too, though he’s spying a bout of the cold on its way. He props his arms firmly on the ice and tries to pull himself up.

There is a version of this story in which the ice holds up and Dean crawls out of the water, safely. Drenched and frozen to the bone, he makes it back to Cas and together they make it back to the cabin. Dean’s still shaking, even in dried clothes and under every blanket they managed to find. But it’s okay, because Cas climbs into his bed and presses his body along Dean’s, wraps his arms around him, moves his hands up and down Dean’s body for friction to warm him up and to get his blood flowing.

At night, enveloped by Cas, no longer aching from cold, safe and sound, Dean falls asleep.

Well. Dean does fall asleep that night.

But this is not that story and, as Dean manages to haul one leg over the edge, the ice shatters under his weight. The sudden drop gets him submerged again. Icy water tears through his nose and into his throat. He fights the reflex to gasp for air, as there’s no air around him, there’s only water.

Waving his numb arms and legs, he is barely moving. He’s not that far under the surface. He can hear Cas’s voice bellowing his name.

He thrusts harder, putting all his strength into the motions but it feels almost like something’s holding him in there. Seaweed wrapped around his ankle, some freaking whirlpool—doesn’t matter, he’s not gonna let it kill him.

It’s so close, just a little bit farther.

There’s a pull at his wrist, the belt that was still looped around it, it drags him up until he’s above water again. He coughs out the water and blinks to clear it out of his eyes. On the ice, Cas is holding the belt tightly, his coat wet up to his elbows.

“I got you,” he says, steering Dean his way.

“Knew you would,” Dean huffs out. He’s so freaking done with this place, with this penetrating cold. “Be careful, the ice—”

The ice creaks. They both hold their breaths.

A fracture appears on the surface under Cas’s chest.

“Cas, you have to move.”

Carefully, Cas pushes himself to the side, until he’s away from the crack.

But as soon as he tries pulling Dean toward him, again, there’s another creak. The ice is giving way.

“Move back!” Dean shouts. He won’t be of any help if he falls into the water, too. “Now!”

But of course, Cas never does what he’s told. He tightens his grip on the belt instead of dropping it.

“I won’t let you go.”

“The rescue’s coming, I’ll be fine ‘til then.”

“You’ve been there for too long already—” Cas says as if Dean doesn’t know it.

His whole body’s burning, his extremities lost all feeling in them but for the pain. He’s gonna go full Jack Dawson if he has to stay there any longer. He wants out. He wants out and he doesn’t want Cas to drop the only lifeline Dean has.

The ice creaks again. Another fracture. It’s a matter of seconds.

“Cas, please.”

“Alright,” Cas says. “Alright.”

But just as he’s about to let go of the belt and push himself back, something grabs Dean’s leg, pulls him under.

Dean could swear those are long wingers wrapped around his ankle, trying to drag him into the depths of the lake. The belt on his wrist, still tense, still held, is the only thing stopping it.

He knows it’s not possible. There’s no spooky thing hiding at the bottom of the lake. Still, he tries to kick to free himself of it, but his legs no longer listen. For a moment, he’s like a rag doll, yanked up and down and close to tearing at the seams. Then the hand lets go just as the belt comes loose and above him something heavy splashes into the water. Cas.

No no no no no.

They’re suspended like mosquitos in amber, until Cas gets a hold of himself and pulls Dean back up.

“Something grabbed my freakin’ leg,” Dean cries out as soon as he can breathe again.

Cas has got his arm around him, holding him in place, the other hand grasping at the edge of the ice, as finicky as it is.

He ignores Dean’s little freak out about a tree branch or a bunch of seaweed, his eyes fixed somewhere behind Dean’s back.

“The rescue’s here.”

There is a version of this story in which the rescuers are quick enough and equipped with two, not one, ropes for this sort of accident. They tie their ropes around both of their waists and pull them out, drag them all the way to the shore and wrap them in the thermal foil. Dean lives with Cas, happily ever after.

Well.

Dean lives.

...

The rope hurts as it tightens around Dean’s ribs and pulls with the force of three grown men. The edge of the ice bites into his spine and scrapes his back and his thighs as he’s dragged across it. The air is so, so cold against his wet, ice-burned skin, it barely makes a difference that he’s not in the water anymore.

He’s being pulled to safety and Cas smiles at him, softly, through his chattering teeth. Dean is rescued and they’re about to come back for Cas.

Cas lets go of his end of the belt.

The shock in Cas’s eyes is the last thing Dean sees, before Cas disappears under water.

“Cas! Cas, no!” Dean screams, struggling against the pull.

Despite the numbness, he manages to toss himself forward, latch onto the edge of the hole. They stop pulling, they realized something went wrong, as Dean frantically looks for a sign of Cas in the water.

There’s a light blur, deep down. It has to be Cas’s coat. Dean throws the end of the belt for him to grab, but Cas is too far already, pulled down, down, by something that’s not seaweed, or a branch, or a whirlpool. There’s something in the lake and it’s taken Cas.

There are men, grabbing Dean by his legs, pulling him away, as he’s shouting Cas’s name. He’s kicking and screaming, he can’t let them drag him from Cas. He has to save Cas, like Cas saved him.

Even as he watches the rescuer put on his gear and jump after Cas, Dean’s trying to tear out of a paramedic’s strong hold and follow him. It doesn’t matter that he’s too weak and that his limbs are numb and that he wouldn’t even make it back across the ice.

There’s something in the lake.

And no one believes him. And no one lets him save Cas.

And no one can save Cas either.

Later, they’ll say Cas got a bad cramp, or that some debris caught his leg. Or that he couldn’t stay afloat in the cold water. Like Cas was too weak to wait a little longer. No one will even listen to Dean. Except for the shrink, who’ll say he fabricated the thing in the lake to cover his survivor’s guilt. After all, if Cas hadn't tried to save him, he wouldn’t have died.

In the spring, when the ice has melted away, they will send the divers to comb the lake, but they won’t find Cas’s body. They will bury an empty casket, just to have some bullshit closure. Dean’ll give up on trying to catch up on those missing months his senior year at school. He’ll have other books to study, on local folklore, on world mythology regarding lakes, water, and ice.

Each year he’ll spend a few months up in that closed camp, like a ghost town, after the counselor’s arrest and the owner’s bankruptcy. He’ll drill through the ice and lower himself into the freezing water. He’ll wait and wait, until he can’t feel his body. The thing will never come. But he’ll never stop believing his truth.

There’s something in the water: that’s how you get a love lost.

There was once someone who tried to save you: that’s how you get a tragedy.

#spndarkbingo #spndeanbingo #writersofdestiel #destiel #destiel fanfic #my writing #ice cold #sorry the ao3 link doesn't work yet ill post tomorrow im freakin sleepy lol

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jawritter · 3 years

Text

The Art Of Letting Go

Summary: You though you were searching for Demon!Dean to help Sammy cure his brother. When you do find him, Dean shows you just exactly what you’ve been looking for.

Created for: @spndarkbingo

Square Field: Dub Con

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Smut, fingering, Demon!Dean (yes, he has his own warning), slight angst, dub con, language, spn level violence, I think that’s it...

A/N: This fic was beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks hun! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!

Want more? Check out my MASTERLIST! Still want more? BECOME A PATREON, and get exclusive fics and make request!!

People are affected by things differently. No one processes trauma the same way. Some people close up completely. They refuse to talk about what they’ve been through, and shut themselves off to everyone around them. Some people chose therapy. They choose a professional stranger as a way to vent, or get it off their chest. Some people get violent and want to seek revenge for whatever happened to them, whether that be to a person, group of people, or just the universe in general.

You’ve seen it all. This life, it had very few secrets left for people in your line of work. You’ve seen them cry, kill themselves, go bat shit crazy and murder everyone they were ever attached too. You’ve seen them lock themselves in the house and refuse to come outside again.

You often wondered what had happened to that girl. She was such a good hunter. She had finally come across the one thing she couldn’t handle mentally. You were pretty sure it would happen to you one day as well.

In all the things you’ve seen, in all the horrors you’ve experienced, in all the shit you’ve hunted, you’ve never seen anything that held a candle to Dean Winchester. He once was a damn good hunter, a friend, but had now turned demon. You know it was the mark that had turned him, and what it was doing to him that made him who he was today, but to say he was handling the trauma from his past life as a human to now swimmingly was bullshit. He literally took all the trauma he’d been through in his life, channeled the anger, took on the fucking mark of Cain and died and became a demon. You didn’t give a shit what Sam said. Dean had done it on purpose.

At least he was creative?

You and Dean had never been very close, but in all fairness, Dean was only ever close to a handful full of people. You? Hell, you were just another hunter. Not someone he was ever attached too. Not that he had time to even really get to know you anyway. You grew up in one of the many hunting compounds, and you joined about a month before Dean became the beast you were currently hunting.

You had always idolized Dean in a way. You had heard all the stories over the years growing up, and you always wanted to work with him, meet him. Now? Fuck, now you were hunting the very man you swore that one day, you’d work along side him to save the world. Funny how that shit turned out.

Sam swore he could cure Dean. You remain unconvinced. Either way, the problem at the moment was finding the bastard. Years of hunting when he was human made Dean damn near impossible to find, and you were pretty sure he was leaving the pair of you a trail of breadcrumbs that literally had you going around in circles.

“What, Sam?” You growled in the phone that wouldn’t stop ringing on the seat next to you. It had been ringing almost non-stop for the past thirty minutes, and you didn’t know how to tell him that you still hadn’t found his brother, and were pretty sure you were never going to find him.

“Y/N, listen, I just got some video footage from a convenience store about 30 minutes north of where you are right now. Dean was seen there.He beat a man to death with a skin mag. Can you check the local bars and strip clubs, see if you can find him?”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, thankful that Sam was unable to see it. This was a first. Dean in his demon form, decided to beat the poor ass hole to death with a fucking porn magazine. He had a knife that was very capable to do the job for him, but this just proved there may be more of the old Dean still in here than you wanted to admit out loud. It took all the self control you had left in you not to burst into hysterical laughter, or ask Sam to send you the footage so you can laugh, and not be judged for it later.

“I’ll check it out Sam, but I’m starting to think we’re not going to see Dean again in person unless he wants to be found.”

The resounding silence on the other end was hard to read. You couldn’t tell if you were actually getting through to him with reason alone, or if he was just as done as you were looking for Dean.

“Just… Just try, okay?” Sam pleaded, and you could literally hear the fucking puppy dog eyes in his voice through the phone, damn him.

“Okay, there’s a bar about five miles from me. I’ll start there and If I find anything I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks Y/N, I really couldn’t do this without you,” he says, letting go the breath he was obviously holding.

“Yeah, and don’t you forget it Winchester,” you tell him before hanging up on him. He’d said enough for tonight, and a few strip joints and bars were all you were willing to do before finding a place to crash for a while. Dean may be a demon, but you were still human and needed at least another four hours before continuing this wild goose chase.

You couldn’t deny as you pulled up in front of the old dive bar, that it was just the kind of place the Dean you know would have chosen to hang out in. You could hear the crappy country music blaring even outside in the parking lot, and there were plenty of blondes walking around in cut off shorts to choses from, adding a nice Backwoods appeal to the place that would have drawn the elder Winchester in like flies to horseshit.

Human Dean was predictable, and you missed that. The only question that remained was just how much of the man was still inside the monster.

As soon as your boots hit the gravel outside your car, a cold chill shot down your spine, throwing your hunter instincts into high gear. You didn’t haven’t even have time to grab your angel blade before your body was pinned to the outside of your Mustang with enough force to knock the wind out of you. The smell of sulfur assaulted your senses, and a scent you knew all too well… Dean.

You could feel the cold steal of the first blade pressing into the thin fabric of your flannel, and you shivered involuntarily at the hot breath that smelled of beer, sulfur, and spearmint gum fanning over your face, Dean’s strong calloused hand had a tight grip around your throat, while the other held your hands behind your back as if you were nothing more than a blowup doll. No form of shaking, kicking, or moving at all seemed to be able to break his inhuman hold.

“You know sweetheart, you and my little brother are getting on my last fucking nerve. I told you both to let me go, and what do you do? You chase me across the country like a fucking bitch in heat, all at the request of Sammy.”

You swallow around the lump that was in your throat as best you could with Dean’s hand holding your neck, tight enough to leave a bruise. You knew he’d been leaving a trail for you, you weren’t an idiot, but you didn’t expect him to be so… well, Dean. You expected a stupid demon, like the hundreds you’d sent back to hell before him. Boy, were you wrong.

“Then why don’t you just fucking kill me, Dean?” You asked him, knowing that if he wanted you dead you’d already would be, especially if he knew you were tailing him. “If I’m that much of a fucking pest, why didn’t you just handle it three states back?”

An inhuman growl sounded close to your ear, and you felt his solid chest vibrate on your back, his hand tighten around your neck, cutting off most of your air supply.

You could feel your body responding to his administration, even though you knew it was wrong. The sheer, raw power that seemed to be pouring from his grip on your hand had slick gathering in your underwear and there wasn’t shit you could do about it.

“Why should I do you that favor hun, Y/N, when you and I could have so much fun together.”

Dean’s hot breath fanned over the shell of your ear, closely followed by his teeth, sending a shiver of disgust down your spine, and to your horror, more arousal pooling between your legs.

“Fuck off, Dean,” you gritted back at him, determined to fight against this senseless attraction to the very thing you were trained to hunt and kill from birth.

This is wrong, this is wrong…

No matter how much you repeated it to yourself, the fast growing bulge in Dean’s jeans against your ass had your cunt squeezing around nothing, begging the fucking demon to fill you up, stretch you in a way you’d only fantasised about. Knowing the human Dean was packing, and a god of man that seemed to drip sex on bowed legs? What woman with a pulse wouldn’t think about it?

“See, your lips are saying fuck off, but that little pussy of yours? Well, it’s saying come to Daddy.”

Dean’s hot tongue licked from the shell of your ear to your jawline, and you had to bite down hard on your lip to stifle the moan that was right on the edge of your lips. His hand that had been holding your throat slipped down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and slipping into your panties with ease, wasting no time in slipping two thick digits into your soaking folds, toying with your entrance.

A deep chuckle ripped through his throat when he felt just how wet you were, and damn it if his fingers didn’t already have you on the edge of oblivion as they slipped into your cunt, pumping and curling slowly. You fought against the overwhelming urge to grind down against his hand to get the friction you needed from him.

This is wrong, this is wrong…

“Look at you,” the demon said, grinding his full denim covered erection against your ass as he continued to fuck you with his fingers, hitting your G-spot with terrifying precision. “So fucking wet and needy. How many times have imagined these dirty little fingers of yours were mine, baby? How many times have you cum moaning my name, like your doing right now? Better keep it down or you're going to get us caught, and you won't get to cum.”

You hadn’t realized all the noise you’d been making until he’d pointed it out, but here you were, all but saying his name like a prayer as your legs began to shake, the coil in your stomach winding painfully tight.

“Dean, please,” you begged him, unsure if you wanted him to stop, because you knew this was so fucking wrong. You didn’t fuck demons, this wasn’t you, but be fucked if it didn’t feel so fucking good. Dean was playing your body like a fiddle, and you were helplessly grinding down on his hands as he increased the speed of his fingers.

“Please what, Y/N?” he said, chuckling as you did all you could not to fall over the edge he had you teetering on. “It’s all you sweetheart, all you gotta do is let go.”

You shook your head no as he laughed again, sinking his teeth into your pulse point hard enough to make you almost cum right there, but you refused to do it, you just couldn’t do it.

This is wrong, this is WRONG!

“You know what your problem is Y/N? You are always SO FUCKING TENSE! All the fucking time. You walk around like you got this big stick up your ass, and a chip on your shoulder. I did the same for a long fucking time, but you know what baby girl, I’m gonna do you a favor. I’m gonna teach you the art of letting go, and we’re gonna start right here in this parking lot. Now, cum.”

Dean added his thumb against your throbbing clit, and as if on command from some invisible force, you came hard enough to blur your vision. The coil in your stomach snapped as your pussy clenched around his thick digits, your juices running down his hand and soaking your panties further. He worked you through your release until your body fell lax against the car, and your breath came out in short pants as you tried to stand on shaking legs.

“Hope you're not too tired yet bitch, that was just lesson one.” Dean said, turning you around to meet cole black eyes, and a smirk carved by the devil himself.

You knew this was wrong, but there wasn’t a chance in hell you were going to get away from him now, so you might as well sit back and learn how to let go and enjoy the ride.

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