Demon!Dean x Reader288Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjgfIrMIJeu
Warnings: None really!288Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPOMtFFIdXh
Summary: Y/N meets Lucifer and moves forward with plans. We learn a little more about what once happened between Y/N and Dean.288Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡm18lHBeeD3
288Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBr9yI59Ann
The constant thunder served to cover the sound of your approaching footsteps. You entered alone—the demon underlings refused to enter the chamber and were quite literally shaking in their boots. But not you. You strolled into the darkness, broken at first only by the blinding flashes of lightning. As you approached the hulking structure, flames rose up and licked around it in a circle, obscuring any view of what you knew to be inside. You stopped at the edge of the fire, the intense heat blowing back your hair, and raised a hand before slowly dropping it to the ground. The fire abated, obeying your command. The interior of the rectangular cage was cloaked in shadow and stillness. You stared hard into the abyss, trying to pick up some movement or shape. You didn’t have to strain your eyes for long.
There were suddenly two points of fiery light burning deep within the darkness—his eyes. They were red hot like the irises were made of flame, but after a moment they dimmed and disappeared. Footsteps followed, slow and deliberate, and echoing loudly in the cavernous chamber, even over the sound of the thunder cracking and rolling overhead. You marveled at this inwardly now. How could there be thunder and lightning? Wasn’t there a ceiling of some sort way up there? Something, somewhere above you? But apparently, He and His effects defied explanation.
You stepped over the line of holy oil that had been burning at your feet and he came into view. And he was looking right at you with curiosity as he emerged from the shadow.
“Well, well… nice to have a visitor. I’m surprised you found the place at all. I’m sorry to say I don’t have anything to offer you in the way of hors d’oeuvres,” he said, leaning heavily on the bars, his forearm pressed against them above his head. He was inspecting you and had no concern for hiding it. His tone was casual and inquisitive. He chewed absently at a fingernail on his other hand. “It gets awfully lonely down here. So nice to have company.” His eyes flashed. “And a Knight of Hell too,” he said, no longer looking at you, now inspecting his fingernails. “How interesting.”
Your heartbeat a little faster.
“Yes, I can see that easily,” he said, turning his eyes back to you again, guessing at what you were thinking. His lips curled into a devious smirk. “But there’s something else, isn’t there?” You did your best to keep very still and to keep your face impassive. He pressed his face close to the bars and his eyes boring into you. The intensity of his gaze was unbelievable and you almost quailed under it for a brief moment before you steeled yourself again. Best not to show weakness to the literal Devil during your first meeting. “How is it that a Knight of Hell is walking around with an almost untouched human soul still?”
You gulped at the tightness in your throat but said nothing. He only smiled wider. “Where, oh, where did you get that?” He let out a chuckle and stretched his arms up over his head casually and sighed. “Aren’t we going to meet properly?” he asked.
You gulped, hoping your voice wouldn’t come out strained and tight with nerves. “You don’t know who I am?” you asked him.
“Can’t exactly get the news or the weather down here,” he said in a singsong voice. “And you’re not one of the old Knights of Hell.” The devious smirk grew on his face again. “I certainly would remember you. You’re all shiny and brand new.”
You swallowed again at the tightness in your throat. You hated to admit it, but he radiated power.
“So, you have me at a disadvantage, you see,” he said. He kept his voice low, the tone still casual, like you were two strangers meeting at a bar. “You obviously know who I am because you came looking for me. No way to stumble on this place by accident—and I’m a little conspicuous. But I don’t know who you are, so let’s remedy that.” He stuck an outstretched hand through the bars. You eyed him warily. What was your move here? Could you snub a handshake from frickin’ Lucifer? Was it some sort of trick? Could he really do anything to you? After all, he was still in the cage.
You stepped forward and grasped his hand, your heart hammering in your chest. He took a firm hold of yours and tugged suddenly. You couldn’t stop a small, surprised gasp from leaving your lips as you were pulled right up to the bars in front of him. His eyes, no longer wreathed in flame, were an icy gray-blue and they were again boring into yours. You felt a chill climbing up your arm from the hand he was clutching. He lifted your hand in his and brought it slightly through the bars, kissing the back of it before his lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Enchanté,” he said. The corners are of his eyes crinkled with his smile. He finally let your hand fall from his hand, leaving your fingers still feeling strangely cold. You stepped back.
“I’m Y/N,” you finally managed.
For some reason this sent him chuckling again and he hopped a little playfully away from the edge of the cage, one foot at a time. “Oh, you are? …perhaps I do know something about you,” he said. The smile was still on his lips and there was a brightness in his eyes as he turned back in your direction. You gave him a questioning look. He shrugged. “I used to have some loyal followers who managed to get the occasional message to me. Before Crowley put a stop to that… In any case, you,” he said, pointing at you with his index finger, “run with the Winchesters.”
“I used to,” you corrected him. He looked at you with renewed interest.
“Are you sure? From what I’ve seen the only way out with those two is six feet under, you know what I mean?” he said with a fake grimace. He rubbed at the stubble on his chin. He gripped a bar in each hand and stared at you, seemingly studying your face again. “How exactly did you become a Knight of Hell?”
“That really isn’t important,” you replied.
A smile flickered on his lips again and he shrugged carelessly. “Right. I’m sure it has nothing to do with Dean being a Knight of Hell…”
You licked your lips a little nervously but said nothing. He seemed to know more than he first let on.
“Hmm. And, uhh, Y/N, that human soul glowing inside you… is that yours? It seems surprisingly unmarred. Pretty unusual. In fact, I can’t think of ever hearing of anything like it in all my eons.”
“I have a proposition for you,” you interrupted loudly, wanting to steer him back toward your purpose and away from your backstory.
“Ooh? Is that so? You have a proposition for me... Because I have several in mind for you.” Lucifer bit his bottom lip. “As you can imagine it has been a very, very long time since I had any visitors, let alone one quite as striking at you are. And I’d really like to get to know you better,” he smirked.
You ignored his innuendo. “How would you feel about running Hell?” you asked him bluntly.
You saw a flash of something in his eyes, maybe desire or surprise. “From in here?” he asked, gesturing to the cage. “Well, that’s quite impossible,” he chuckled. “Besides, I don’t think Crowley would concede.” There was a question in his voice and you knew he was trying to feel you out.
“You don’t have to worry about Crowley. He’s… let’s say, indisposed.”
“Is he dead?” Lucifer asked, an eager and hopeful look on his face. “Because that would be great news. I’m so sick of that little, meddling twerp…”
“So, you’d be interested?” you asked again.
“Sign me up,” he said, again leaning casually on the bars, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “But what’s the catch?” Every time he looked at you, you felt like he could see you without your clothes on… and you couldn’t figure out if he actually could, or if perhaps he was seeing your true form, your soul, or some Knight of Hell version of it… It was a vulnerable feeling, and if there was one feeling you hated as a demon it was vulnerability.
“There would be certain concessions you’d have to make. Things you would need to agree to,” you said. “Terms.”
He smiled deviously. “Really? And you’d just take Big Bad Lucifer at his word?”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Of course not.”
He pointed at you enthusiastically and chewed on his bottom lip again. “I like you. You have spunk.” He paced slowly in the cage, but his eyes stayed fixed on you. “I’d like to know more about these concessions and exactly how you think you’re going to hold me to them. But more importantly, I want to know why you’re even here in the first place.”
You thought about how to answer that question for a long moment. There were several reasons you had ended up where you were… which one should you offer up? Or should you offer up none of them? But, finally, you settled on a half-truth. “Revenge,” you said. This snapped Lucifer’s eyes to your face and a faint smile grew on his lips.
He chuckled and wiped a thumb over his bottom lip. “Personally, one of my favorite reasons for mayhem.” He paused thoughtfully. “On whom, may I ask?”
You crossed your arms a little guardedly. “I’ve fallen into this whole… running Hell thing,” you said. “It’s more a side effect really. Turns out, someone does actually need to do it. And I have essentially zero interest in most of the job.”
“So, revenge on Crowley? You took over just to piss off Crowley and now you’re stuck with it. Amazing how much administration and bureaucracy are involved in running a realm, isn’t it? Not to mention all the eager underlings,” he said, rolling his eyes.
“It’s simple. I have my own plans and I want to be able to do them when I want, how I want.”
“Sounds like what we all want, doesn’t it?”
“Let me be perfectly clear: you would not set foot outside of Hell. You can do whatever you want regarding… let’s call them, day to day operations. But that’s it.”
He held up his hands, palms out, lips pressed into a tight line. “Hey. Considering my current position, I would still call that a huge upgrade…” He leaned on the bars again. “So, when is my coming out party? Where do I sign?” He was looking you up and down without the slightest effort to hide it, and you felt the hair rise on the back of your neck under his gaze, but you weren’t quite sure exactly why. Was it just the pure power that he radiated? Was it some foreshadowing? You didn’t know, but it did make you uneasy. Still, you plunged recklessly ahead. What exactly did you have to lose?
“I have some things to prepare first,” you said vaguely.
“Oh, preparations? Party decorations? I’d like black streamers and Devil’s Food cake,” he quipped. You shot him a blank look which only elicited a shrug. “I get it. Enough with the questions. I just find you so… interesting. I’ve been sitting down here, rotting in obscurity and boredom and suddenly a brand new Knight of Hell shows up at the Devil’s cage wanting revenge on Crowley and some sort of, let’s say partnership. I’m not supposed to ask questions?”
“You can ask questions. Just don’t expect an answer.”
A wide smile broke out on his lips and he pulled the bottom one in between his teeth again. “Are you flirting with me? Because it’s working.”
You felt another prickle run up your spine and gulped at the nervous tightness in your throat which you were trying so hard to hide. “Just… sit tight. I’ll be back.”
“Like I have any other choice!” he said with a smile. “You’re just trying to play hard to get, trying to keep me titillated!” he called after you.
You stepped away back, breaking the gaze between you and him, and flicked a hand and the holy fire sprang up around the cage again. You could feel Lucifer’s eyes on you the whole way to the door, even though your back was to him. It was with some sense of relief that you finally closed it behind you. This was insane. What the hell were you doing? Did you seriously think you could pull this off? The alternative was to keep going the way you were—annoyed, frustrated, angry—you hadn’t asked for any of this. Crowley had turned you. So, whatever happened, ultimately, it was on him… Right? And Dean—just the thought of him sent you reeling with anger, frustration, and… shit. How was it that Dean was somehow still eliciting this whirlwind of emotions? You’d had enough. You wanted control again, so you were taking it.
There was a small gaggle of demons waiting just outside the door looking amazed and scared and you turned to the one in front. “Did you get them?”
He gulped and looked a little sheepish. “We—we still have to find a couple more.”
Your jaw tensed. “Well, do it. Now.”
_ _ _ _ _ _
Sam gritted his teeth when he stepped into the kitchen early in the morning to see Dean sitting at the island with a mug, apparently at his ease.
“Sammy,” he said, raising his mug slightly. “Little brother… How’d you sleep?”
Sam let out an irritated scoff. “How did I sleep? How’d I—you want to know how I slept? I didn’t. I didn’t sleep. Because the King of Hell is in one room, and a Knight of Hell was wandering the bunker. So, I didn’t sleep.”
One corner of Dean’s mouth flicked upward. “You really need to learn to relax…”
Sam grabbed the empty carafe off the coffee pot and gestured vaguely. “I thought you made coffee,” he said.
“What do I look like, a barista?” Dean’s gruff voice answered.
Sam glared at him. “You’ve got a mug.”
Dean looked down into it and back up at Sam. “This is whiskey.”
Sam rubbed a hand over his face. “Whiskey. It’s 6 am.”
“I run on demon time now, Sam,” he said, sipping carelessly at his drink. “It’s where I do whatever I want, whenever I want.”
Sam’s eyebrows lifted. “Really?”
“Yeah. Really.”
“So, you’re telling me of all the possible things you could be doing, running on ‘demon time,’ this is what you want? Sitting in the bunker with me, Cas, and Crowley.” Dean didn’t say anything, just held his brother’s eyes with a blank expression on his face. “For some reason I find that a little hard to believe,” Sam said skeptically, turning to fill the carafe with water and put some actual coffee on.
“Do you have some sort of point you’d like to make? Something you want to say to me?” There was a dangerous growl in his voice now.
Sam sighed heavily and turned around to face him again. “I’m sick of this ‘I don’t give a shit’ act, Dean! You showed up here because of Y/N, so some part of you, no matter how small or how far down you’ve shoved it, actually cares about something. And yet you won’t even tell us what happened when you saw her! Make up your mind—you can’t have it both ways! You either want to figure out how to get Y/N back or you don’t. …But I don’t know. Maybe you really don’t care. Maybe you don’t care if Y/N ends up dead or—”
Dean was on him so fast that before Sam even realized it he was up against the wall with Dean’s hand on his throat and the glass carafe was shattered on the floor. The puddle of water was slowly expanding, weaving its way around the shards of glass, making them look even more like jagged ice crystals floating in a shallow sea. Dean’s breath was hot on Sam’s face. “Don’t you ever say that about Y/N again! You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” With some effort, his hand shaking as he drew back, he released Sam. His eyes were filled with a savage light that Sam had never seen before and for a moment he was reminded of the power and anger this version of Dean was capable of wielding. Dean gave him one final glare and stormed from the room.
Sam heaved a frustrated sigh and reached up to rub at his throat. Gulping down the sudden wave of fear, he grabbed a broom, starting to sweep up the shards of broken glass into a pile. Cas breezed in.
His face immediately darkened as he took in the mess on the floor and Sam bending to pick up a few particularly large pieces of debris. “I heard something. What happened?”
Sam sighed and tossed the pieces forcefully into the trash before running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. He gestured vaguely at the mess. “Dean. Dean happened…”
Cas swallowed at the uncomfortable tightness in his throat and gave him a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
Sam sank heavily onto a nearby stool. “I don’t know. Nothing. It’s probably my fault… I was—challenging him.”
Cas’s brow sank even lower over his blue eyes. “Sam—don’t do that. I know it’s hard to reconcile but he’s not entirely the brother you knew… He’s not the same.”
Sam let out a dry scoff. “Yeah. Tell me about it…” He sighed again, deep in thought now. “There’s something though…”
Cas nodded. “With Dean. About Y/N.”
Sam’s eyes shot up to meet Cas’s. “Yes. Exactly. He threatened us about messing with him, warned us about messing with Y/N, and then he just freely shows up here all of a sudden? And then just now… I said something about Y/N and that just set him off. It was like a switch flipped.”
Cas continued. “I’ve noticed it too. If the old Dean, some part of him, wasn’t still in there with this Knight of Hell, he wouldn’t give a damn that Crowley turned Y/N. He wouldn’t care about anything. He wouldn’t be here. Or he would have killed all of us by now…”
Sam nodded. “And yet he called us. He showed up here. He’s furious with Crowley…” He gave Cas a knowing look and the angel nodded.
“We need to know what happened between the two of them. It might explain why Y/N suddenly went barreling into Hell,” Cas mused. “I don’t believe it was only to punish Crowley.” The look in the angel’s eyes grew far away as he sunk further into thought. “We need Dean to talk to us.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Sam scoffed. “He’s obviously being tight-lipped about it on purpose. There’s something he doesn’t want us to know, for whatever reason.” Sam stood up and resumed his kitchen clean-up. “And no one is going to force it out of him.”
“I just can’t shake the feeling that somehow Y/N is going to be his way back from all of this…” Cas said. Sam gave him a thoughtful looking, his brow wrinkled with worry.
“Then we better try our best to find out what really happened when they last saw each other.”
Cas went in search of Dean and after checking the usual common areas he headed deeper into the bunker, peeking into every open door. He was expecting to find him in his old room but was surprised to see it empty and undisturbed. Just next door, however, was your room, and Cas found Dean inside, standing over your desk.
He cautiously stepped across the threshold and waited patiently for Dean to speak, not entirely sure that he even would.
Dean was studying the books, notebooks, and stray paper spread out all over your desk. He paged through it gently, almost tentatively, with slow, intentioned movements. “All this—all of it… it’s about me. I mean, about Knights of Hell and demons… Every single note, every marked page.” His deep voice was absent its usual gruffness, and Cas noted that this wasn’t the first time he had seen Dean, the Knight of Hell, soften when thinking of you.
Cas swallowed a little nervously. “She wanted to get you back. We all did. But she was the one who refused to give up. Even when I stepped away. Even when Sam couldn’t go on.”
Something changed suddenly and Dean let out a wry laugh. “Waste of time,” he said, dropping the paper in his hand and withdrawing suddenly from the stacks of notes like he had been burned.
Cas’s brow contracted. “Is it?” he asked, meeting Dean’s eyes.
“Well, a lot of good it did her. Clearly, I’m still a Knight of Hell. And on top of that, it seems she is too. There is one thing I do know,” Dean said a little quietly, “Y/N doesn’t belong in this world. A frickin’ Knight of Hell,” he said, shaking his head.
“She would say you don’t either,” Cas asserted.
“That’s not the same.” Dean licked his lips thoughtfully and stared back at the angel for a long moment.
“Let me ask you something,” the angel started cautiously. He hoped if he could just keep Dean talking about you, perhaps he would explain what had occurred when you saw each other. “Why the hunting? The monsters? The humans?” Cas asked him. “I mean the demon underlings make sense. Might as well be an annoying fly under a newspaper but… why is going after the human criminals?”
Dean’s mouth lifted on one side and he crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, at first I thought she was just experimenting, trying out her new form and they were convenient targets. But I think it’s more than that.”
“What do you mean?”
The deep bass of Dean’s voice was now touched with gravel again and he paced over to sit on the edge of your bed, glancing at the novel and trinkets on your bedside table, now dull with a layer of dust in your absence. “Think about it. If she just wanted to learn new tricks she didn’t need to hunt down bad guys and monsters. She could have smoked the first thing she came across. But even now she has a conscience or something like it. She isn’t just killing just to kill. She’s clinging to some purpose, however self-manufactured it is,” he said, getting up from your bed and dusting off his hands. “She’s just trying to feel something…” Dean trailed off here and Cas watched as a cloudy veil came over his eyes.
“You saw her?” Cas asked, already knowing that he had, but hoping Dean would reveal more.
“Oh, yeah, I saw her. She threw me into a wall,” he said with a smirk. Cas’s expression darkened.
“Why?”
“Because she could,” Dean said. “But after that, I made a point of getting in her way,” he said, stretching his arms out in front of him.
Cas shook his head, not completely understanding, but he felt like he was getting close to something. “What do you mean?”
“I got in the way of her hunts. She didn’t like that.”
“How?” Cas pressed him. For now, Dean seemed content to talk, but the angel continued to press for more details.
“Killing who and what she was going to before she could. She really didn’t like that,” he said, one corner of his mouth flicking upward again. “All I was doing was pushing her buttons, trying to get a response. Payback for what she had been doing to me…” Here he trailed off again and Cas watched a change come over his face.
“What had she been doing?”
Dean’s green eyes flickered up to meet the angel’s and for a moment Castiel felt certain he was about to explain, but the next second the that had passed and he offered only a vague explanation. “There’s some connection between the two of us, probably just a Knight of Hell thing, but… it made it easy for us to get at each other.”
“Hmm.” Cas was pretty sure that it had much less to do with being a Knight of Hell than it did with whatever was between you and Dean.
“I could find her. Somehow, I just knew where she was and where she would be next.”
“Well, where is she now?” Cas asked.
Dean stood up and shrugged, the corners of his mouth turning down. “I don’t know. Based on that voicemail she left, my best guess is that she is actually in Hell, and if so then it seems I can’t reach her there the way I could when she was just running around icing douchebags.” He shrugged again.
“And all that happened between you was a fight?” Cas asked again.
Dean seemed a little caught off guard by the question and it took him a long moment to answer. “Apparently.” And with that he strode out, leaving Cas standing alone in your room with a peculiar feeling that wasn’t true and almost more questions than when he started.
Some years ago
The trip to South Dakota and what had happened between you and Dean while you were locked in Bobby’s panic room left you with a hopeful excitement in your chest. As you rode in the back seat of the Impala, heading back to the bunker, you couldn’t help glancing up at Dean behind the wheel and you caught him looking over his shoulder at you several times as well. As soon as your eyes met, both of you broke into nervous smiles and you felt your cheeks respond with a warm flush which lingered long after you turned your attention to the waves of grass whizzing by outside.
Finally making it home late that night, Sam immediately muttered sleepy goodnights and headed for bed. This suddenly left you and Dean standing alone in the front room and the atmosphere was thick with expectation. Dean tossed the Impala keys down on the table with a loud rattle and his green eyes caught yours.
He shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight a little nervously, the eye contact between the two of you magnetic. “Sooo…”
You laughed a little anxiously. “So. Alone again,” you said, unconsciously biting your bottom lip.
Goddamn… Dean couldn’t handle that and he tilted his head at you a little as he gave you an almost desperate look, his lips falling partially open as if he was about to say something. Your blush deepened and you were about to ask him something in return when suddenly he was right in front of you, slipping an arm around your lower back and his fingers into your hair and crashing into you, pulling you against him so suddenly, so forcefully that you were unbalanced on your tiptoes. The heat and passion of that kiss were staggering and you sank into it, giving yourself over entirely to the sensations of Dean—the rough stubble on his jaw, his strong arm tight around you, his lips moving effortlessly with yours, hungry and pleading.
Your lips broke apart for a brief moment and Dean studied your face, you do the same in turn. The green of his eyes was olive in the dim light and there was a flame burning that you felt spreading straight to the center of your chest, heating you up.
“Is this—was that okay?” Dean asked you, suddenly a little unsure, a little worried he wasn’t reading the moment right. He had told himself for so long that wanting you was pointless because it was impossible you wanted him back in the same way. He didn’t deserve you. So, the idea that this was happening at all was surreal and he was terrified of screwing it up.
“More than okay,” you replied. Your voice was breathy like you’d just run a marathon. “Dean—”
His lips met yours again before you could even get the rest of your thought out and the next second it was gone as you were surrounded by, enveloped in Dean again.
You broke apart with no small amount of effort, your arms around his neck, and gave him a shy smile.
His eyes were questioning as he studied your expression.
You slipped your fingers in between his and gave him a warm look, starting to tug him in the direction of your room.
Dean’s heart pounded. He wanted this so badly. There wasn’t a single other thought in his mind. All he could think about was the feeling of you beneath his fingers, the taste of you, the intoxicating scent of your hair… He followed you down the hallway toward your room, but when you both were rounding the last corner there was a familiar rustling noise behind him and he spun to see Cas standing there with a grave expression on his face. His fingers slipped from between yours and you stood beside him, your heart sinking from stratospheric heights to the lowest depths at the shadow that was on the angel’s face.
“We have a big problem,” Cas said. And just like that, it was like you were yanked out of the perfect dream into a nightmare.
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