Chapter Text
Sitting there at the huge war table in the Bunker with your two favorite people, never ceased to put a smile on your face.
Until tonight.
Everything was routine, flowing perfectly until Dean poured himself that first shot of whiskey. It wouldn’t be that big of a deal if Dean didn’t currently have the Mark of Cain; he had sworn off booze until you could all find a cure, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice the thing on his arm made him a lot more volatile, add alcohol to the mix and it was a shit-show for sure.
Sam however seemed unconcerned, so you tried to force yourself to relax.
Like you always did, you pushed the feeling down, while somehow managing to keep a genuine-looking smile stretched across your face.
Dean shot you a wink as he reached for the whiskey again, and it made your throat catch with anxiety rather than the arousal it should have been. What’s wrong with me? Shake it off, everything is fine. . .
Sam followed suit, both Winchesters downing their shots simultaneously, before the giant sitting next to you pushed a glass your way,
“No, no,” you spoke cheerily, waving your hand nonchalantly, “I’m good, thanks!” Sam shook his head and poured your glass anyway,
“ ,” Damn if you didn’t know where this was headed, “You’ve lived with us for three months, and I haven’t seen you take one drink. What you did out there tonight deserves celebration. So. . . Drink.” He finished lamely, pushing the alcohol into your much smaller hand.
You glowed at the praise, recalling the ass kicking you did only hours ago. . . It was uncharacteristic and even surprised you. He’s right, it does deserve celebration. . Still you stared at the strong liquid with worry creasing your brow,
“Yeah come to think of it. . .” Dean started, sounding a lot more in control than his little brother; probably due to the fact that he drank more regularly,
“Even I haven’t seen you drink. Go ahead baby, take the shot.” he licked his lips hungrily, and you could tell that he wanted to watch his girlfriend put down a burning shot of whiskey more than anything in the world right then,
“I - I don’t know guys, I told you already,” you shook your head and set it down gently, “I just don’t have the desire. . . I don’t know why.” and that was the truth, you had no idea why.
Ever since you could remember, the idea of drinking made you cringe. It always made you feel like there was a black endless pit in your stomach for reasons unknown. So understandably, it frightened you a little.
Dean looked disappointed,
“Oh come on sweetheart,” he drawled, “you do it, and I’ll do that thing you love. . . Won’t even make you beg for it tonight.” he swiped his God-like tongue across his lower lip and suggestively wiggled his eyebrows,
“Who are you kidding Dean?” you giggled, “I couldn’t pry you off with a crowbar if I wanted to, you love it just as much as I do!”
He was chuckling and nodding agreeably, probably thinking of the same night you were, when he made you come four times using only his mouth. You shuddered, that was a good night indeed. Sam looked horrified,
“Come on you two I’m sitting right here!” he complained, sounding very much like the little brother you could only imagine he used to be. You proudly replaced him as youngest of the group now.
“What Sammy? Can’t handle hearing about how good my girl’s pussy tastes?” you gaped at him and felt your face pale immediately,
“Dean. . .” you whispered softly, shocked he would take it that far. And if the pang in your heart told you anything, a little hurt to boot. Sam took in your humiliation and covered your hand with his, your cheeks were absolutely burning.
“Come on man. . .” Dean took another shot, and scoffed belligerently,
“Oh what? Did I cross a line?” he shook his hands around dramatically before reaching for the bottle again. He kept up the drunken mockery, “Sooo sorry. . .”
Then he leveled you with a look that made you dread his next words,
“Don’t worry babe, you’ll forget all about this when I make you scream my name tonight. What did you call me again?” he pretended to ponder for a moment, “Oh that’s right, a God with my tongue. That’s what it was.”
You would have gasped if there was air in your lungs.
“Dean!” Sam’s sudden bark made you jump sharply, your eyes were watering now. Why is he acting this way? “That’s enough.”
Sam’s voice was chilling, but the hand on yours was still comforting. Dean still seemed unperturbed, raising his glass again,
“I think you’ve had plenty,” Sam was tensed for something, and it set you on edge. The eldest Winchester downed the whiskey without breaking eye contact with his little brother, and slammed the glass down hard enough it made you flinch.
“Is that right.” he rose from his chair and braced his hands on the table, leaning forward toward Sam menacingly. The Winchesters weren’t taught to back down from a fight, you doubted that they even knew how, so when Sam copied Dean’s actions you weren’t in the least bit surprised.
But you were frightened for sure.
“Dean -”
“Can it sugar, the boys are talkin’ now.” a tear slipped out then, one of pure hurt.
“Dean, stop.” your voice was shrill with threatening tears, and he looked right at you from across the table, “It’s just the Mark, you know you can’t drink with it -”
“Shut up!” he roared suddenly, and you did. Your lips pressed together in a quaking line, and he turned his attention back to a practically fuming Sam Winchester.
“What the Hell is wrong with you Dean?” he demanded hotly, “You can’t talk to her like that!”
“The Hell I can’t, she’s mine isn’t she?” you brought your legs up with you on the chair, wanting more than anything to just disappear right then. Dean reached for the bottle again, only to have Sam swiftly yank it from his grip.
Dean absolutely roared with sudden rage and flung his glass across the room to shatter against the wall. If Sam was nervous, he didn’t show it, but you were shaking. I’ve never seen him so mad before. . .
“You’re acting like a child!” Sam growled. That’s the most terrifying child I’ve ever seen. The thought would have made you laugh if it wasn’t so true.
Suddenly Dean looked very calm, his shoulders went lax and his mouth tugged up into a little smile, but there was anger glinting behind his pretty green eyes,
“That’s your problem isn’t it Sam?” he sounded evil, nothing like himself, so even though you knew where this was going you didn’t dare interject.
“What the Hell are you talking about?” Dean chuckled,
“She’s mine, and you can’t handle it!” he was outright laughing now, a dark horrible laugh that made you want to hide forever, “Bet you wish you could taste her whenever you want, too, huh?” that time you did speak up,
“Dean!” you cried shrilly, but neither man even glanced your way. Sam wasn’t denying it in fact his next sentence may have been the final hair on the pressure bomb,
“You know what? You don’t deserve her Dean!” he boomed, “Ever since you got the Mark you’ve been treating her like garbage, and I’m tired of watching it happen!”
The room was deadly quiet, the soft hitching of your breath alerted everyone - including you - that you were crying. When did that start up?
“You think she doesn’t want me, Sam? She fucking loves it.” he turned his attention on you, and you tensed, “Isn’t that right babygirl? You like the way the Mark makes me fuck, don’t you?” You didn’t answer, unsure if he was right or not.
Honestly you loved the man no matter what, the way he fucked was never short of phenomenal with or without the Mark of Cain. Then he said something that absolutely froze your blood,
“Wanna see Sammy?” he sneered, pushing off of the table to stand straight, Sam didn’t say a word,
“W -what?” you whispered shakily, wide eyes flitting back and forth between the Winchesters.
“I think Sammy wants to see how much you want me, baby.” he was still looking directly at Sam, “Be a good girl and hop up on the table.”
“Dean -” Sam warned only to be cut off by your high pitched,
“No!” both Winchesters looked to you then, one with concern and the other with borderline hostility,
“Come on baby, just a little show,” he was rounding the table now, and as he neared your tears started picking up. “Gonna lick you nice and slow so my baby brother can see. . .” he crouched in front of you, no doubt able to see the how hard you were shaking, “Or maybe fast and brutal like I did last night. . . Remember that sweetheart? How I worked your little cli -”
“STOP!” you screamed in his face, cutting him off abruptly, “Why are you doing this to me Dean?” you wept miserably, choking on a sob that tried to sneak out. His features darkened dangerously,
“Are you telling me no sweetie?” there was no love in the way he was speaking, and you looked to Sam for help who - to your horror - was just staring down at his hands on the table looking like a frozen video game.
“Whatcha lookin at him for babygirl?” you flinched by accident when Dean’s fingers brushed your hair back, and the look on his face made it hard not get up and run.
“What’s wrong with you Dean?” you whispered tremulously, sinking back into the arm of the chair a little further away from him.
Dean didn’t give you an answer, instead he took hold of you suddenly and hoisted you up from the chair like you were weightless - you screamed in surprise and fear, but he didn’t seem to care.
“Sam!” you cried, frightened of your boyfriend for the first time since you met him. Dean dropped you the few inches onto the table and you hit with a grunt, scrambling away from him as soon as you got your bearings,
“Hey Dean, come on man you’re scaring her.” Sam finally snapped out of his haze it seemed, and was looking a little more than worried himself.
Dean wrapped a big hand almost completely around your ankle and jerked you back toward him a few inches, putting a stop to your escape and reducing you to loud terrified tears.
“P -please, don’t!” you weren’t even sure what you were begging him not to do, he wasn’t going to hurt you was he? The look in his eye wasn’t reassuring.
Large fingers grabbing at the waistband of your night shorts, prompted you to roll onto your side in a pathetic effort to escape. Of course he still easily managed to slide them off, leaving you in your black lace panties that you put on just for him.
It seemed so wrong now.
Grabbing you around the knees, Dean flipped you onto your back again and yanked you down the table until your ass was on the edge and your bent knees were pushed into his midsection.
In an act of desperation you began batting at his hands that were currently trying to force your thighs open,
“NO!” you were shrieking, “No st -stop! Dean - stop it!” it was like he didn’t hear you. The look on his face only spurred on the tears running down your cheeks as you tried hopelessly to keep your legs closed.
But he was so strong. That was one of the things you loved about him. . . His strength. Now it was horrifying.
As soon as it became clear you were no match for the Hunter’s strength, you began wildly kicking at him, aiming for nothing and everything at the same time, but again he seemed unfazed even when the kicks landed.
Finally Dean gripped one leg just below the knee that he positioned against his hip and the other got stuck on his shoulder where he wrapped a rough hand around the ankle, trapping it there until he let you go.
Effectively spreading you open for him.
The only thing that your struggles were doing now, was coaxing a smile from Dean, a sick smile that you wished you’d never seen on your boyfriends face. It looked terrifying and evil.
“Dean -” you whimpered, having been left in the same position for long enough to stop sobbing so loudly. His fingers were caressing you where he held you, feigning comfort while there was darkness swirling in his pretty greens.
“What’s wrong baby girl?” he cooed, kissing the ankle on his shoulder softly, never breaking eye contact, “Don’t you wanna come for Sammy? I bet he’d like to see it. . . C’mon it’ll be fun. . .” then he began to kiss down the inside of your leg, keeping it hooked over his shoulder,
“Nononono. .” you wept while shaking your head minutely at him.
You tried desperately to bring your thighs together but his body made it impossible, and he wasn’t slowing his descent to your core. Tears were steadily trailing from your eyes to the table, and your breath was hitching with the quiet tears. . .
This isn’t real. . . this can’t be happening!
Dean’s eyes tracked your hands moving down to cover your sex as he got closer to the target, amusement flickering in those sharp orbs.
“Oh don’t be like that baby. .” you jumped with a frightened squeak at the feeling of his tongue flicking out just above your knee,
“Please Dean, I don’t want it,” you wept, jerking when his other hand moved to squeeze your ass. You were absolutely trembling with fright. Sam’s voice sounded in the same place he’d been standing the whole time,
“Alright that’s enough Dean. . look at her,” he sounded appalled, you could only guess what his face looked like,
“Shut the fuck up Sammy, just enjoy the show.” he growled with a sick grin, nipping a little at the bend in your knee,
“De - Dean. .!” you begged, squirming around as best as you could whilst still covering yourself and the man actually growled. His chest rumbled with a throaty snarl just before he sunk his sparkling teeth into the meat of your inner thigh.
You saw white.
“Ahhh!” you screamed in pain, writhing and slamming your eyes closed while he held the savage bite. Screaming sobs were echoing off of the Bunker walls, and it took a moment to realize they were actually coming from you.
Warm liquid trickled from where his mouth was sealed on your skin, and you opened your eyes to see that it was dark red. The feeling of his teeth sliding out made you mewl but when he smiled a literal crimson smile, you screamed again.
Your blood was almost covering those sharp white teeth.
“Jesus Christ!” Sam gasped somewhere in the distance, but all you could really focus on was those blood red lips kissing down your thigh toward your core. Not once had he broken eye contact,
“Stop please, please!” you sobbed, “Don’t - please don’t. . .” begging the man you’d called your boyfriend for almost two months now made your heart seize up. Never once did you think something like this would happen.
Keeping your hands over your most intimate area, you tried to sit up and scoot your ass back away from him, all while babbling unintelligibly pleas that seemed to fall on deaf ears anyway.
A heavy hand covered your chest, slamming you back down to your back, and your head connected with the hard wooden table top making you see stars for a moment. The feeling of thick fingers on your panties brought you back to the surface.
“Come on, we’re having a good time sweetheart,” the grin in his voice was audible, and it made you want to puke. Grabbing weakly at the waistband in a hopeless attempt to keep them on your body, you did the last thing you could think of.
You screamed for Sam,
“SAM!” the shriek tore through the room, “Sam help me!” Dean actually chuckled at your hysterics, almost completely uncovering you for his mouth before you both heard the distinct click of a gun cocking.
Dean perked up and you froze.
“Get the fuck off of her Dean.” Sam’s voice was dead serious, you recognized the register that he reserved only for monsters during hunts. “NOW.”
Dean was still smirking when he released the elastic waistband with a snap against your hips, and put his hands up, looking almost bored as he uncurled over you. Finally he looked away from your face up over the top of you to Sam, but you were still too frightened to even close your legs.
Absolutely frozen, breathing shallow breaths.
“Are you okay ?” Sam’s voice barely registered as you watched the man in front of you ripple with barely controlled rage. Dean’s eyes snapped down to you when you didn’t answer, narrowing devilishly just before he brought his hand down on your pussy so hard and so fast, that the impact made a ringing slap.
“Ahh!” you screamed and folded in on yourself, completely coiling up in pain,
“She’s fine Sammy,” he chuckled darkly while you sobbed softly on the table top with your hands squeezed between your closed thighs, cupping your tender throbbing sex.
“You son of bitch!” all of a sudden Sam was in your line of sight, colliding loudly with Dean and taking him to the floor with a thud.
Remembering yourself, you uncurled and rolled off of the table, practically falling to the stone floor intent on distancing yourself from the whole scene. The bite flared up in pain at the tensing of muscles, but you got up and half stumbled half ran to the relative safety of your room.
Taking care to lock the door and even try twisting the handle to make sure it really locked, you dove into your bed, burrowing tightly under the the covers, hiding like a child from the boogeyman.
What the fuck just happened?
Faint sounds of fighting could be heard from the main room, and you pushed both hands over your ears to block it out, absolutely soaking your pillow with tears.
I t wasn’t him, it wasn’t him, it wasn’t him. . . Right?
The fighting sounds couldn’t be heard through your hands anymore, and you nervously removed them to listen. There was only silence. . Not even low vibrations of the two men talking.
It worried you.
Only a moment ago you couldn’t stand hearing them duke it out, now you were practically praying to hear some yelling, anything to let you know they were both alright. Nothing. Not a damn sound.
But there was no way in Hell you were about to walk out there right now. No way. You were panicking enough behind a closed and locked door as it was.
This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.
The mattress smelled like old sheets from being unslept in for so long. In fact the last time you’d even been in this bed was over a month ago after you started dating Dean. . .
You always just slept in his room.
The idea of sleeping with him now though, was terrifying to you, Hell even being in the same room was a scary thought. . Maybe I just need a night. Maybe it’ll be better in the morning.
A knock on the door made you stop breathing. It’s locked right? Yeah, yeah I locked it. Maybe it’s Sam? What if he killed Sam. . .? Would he do that? No. . . No he wouldn’t right?
Your brain was instantly panicking, rethinking everything you’d known about Dean from day one at the Bunker. You couldn’t answer the knock even if you wanted to. Another knock and you squeezed your eyes closed.
Please be Sam, please be Sam.
“ ?” Dean. It was Dean. You curled up even tighter under the blanket and hugged yourself for all it was worth, “ , it’s me sweetheart. We need to talk.” he sounded worried, voice laced with guilt, but there was no way you were letting him in the room,
“Come on, just talk to me. Let me in, it’s okay baby.” you snivelled and wiped at the snot that was trying to come out of your nose,
“Go away Dean. . .” jesus your voice sounded weak, his answer was almost immediate,
“I’m sorry, God I’m so sorry.” you could picture him out there leaning on the door, looking lost and dazed, “It wasn’t me, you know that. . . I would nev -”
“Go away Dean!” you cried suddenly, “Please just leave me alone.”
“I’m not going anywhere, not until you talk to me.” his voice was still soft, he was trying to comfort you, but if he had any clue how afraid of him you were right then he wouldn’t even bother.
There was no way you could face him tonight.
“Wh -where’s Sam?” you had to ask, and receive a soft sigh from the hall because of it,
“He’s fine, out in the main room still. . . He helped me get the Mark under control.” but what if it wasn’t completely the Mark’s fault? You begged him to stop and he showed no signs of the real Dean at all, Hell you even kicked him in the face and it didn’t snap him out of it.
“Will you just let me in?” there it was, a little hint of irritation in his deep voice. You shuddered.
“No. I - I can’t talk to you right now. . .” you felt tears start up again, “Just go away Dean.”
There was silence. Did he really leave?
Straining your ears in the dark, you listened for any kind of sound alerting you that he was still outside. . . For a moment there was nothing and you just began to relax when you heard it.
Tiny soft clicking coming from the doorknob. He was picking the lock.
A gasp burst from your lips as you shot up ramrod straight on the mattress, clutching the blanket to your body, unable to keep the frightened tears trapped in your eyes.
“Dean -” you hiccup on icy fear, but he didn't answer you, just kept picking away at the lock, “Dean please don’t come in here! Please!” there was a pause outside at the sound of your sudden hysterics,
“Sweetheart, it’s just me. . . It’s okay,” he sounded tense and worried,
“No, no don’t come in,” you sobbed feeling desperation set in, only to hear the lock clicking and then silence. He’d gotten it open. “Dean, please. . .” the tears were obvious in your strained voice,
“I’m coming in .” at that information, you threw yourself onto the mattress and wrapped up in the blanket protectively, trying so hard not to absolutely lose it.
All senses were on high alert so you could hear every slow step he took in his workboots, every uncertain pause, Hell, even his calm quiet breathing was picked up by your ears.
“ ,” you whimpered at how close he had gotten, tightening up in your little ball under the covers, “Baby, did I hurt you?”
Well now that he mentioned it, your body was throbbing with all kinds of little bruises peppering your skin. Oh yeah, and that fucking bite on the inside of your thigh was stinging like a mother fucker, probably still bleeding too.
“Y-yes,” you whispered so quietly you wondered if he heard for a moment before he inhaled sharply, “You - You bit me. .” God you sounded like a beaten dog,
“I know,” there was sudden weight on the mattress like he was sitting down on the edge and it made your heart pick up in panic. You shied away from him with a whine, clutching the blanket around your head for dear life. . . You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him right now.
That smile. . . That smile that he gave you with your blood coating his teeth. . . It was something of nightmares and it wouldn’t leave your head.
“Please don’t cry, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he sounded heartbroken, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment. “Shh, it’s all okay now baby girl.” but you felt unsafe being alone with him, and that hurt as much as it did frighten you,
“I want Sam,” you wept, tensing when he did.
“Why the fuck would you want Sam?” there was anger there and the menacing sound made you absolutely start sobbing again,
“I - I don’t,” you lied quickly, struggling to speak through your tears, “I’m sorry.” there was a hand on your shoulder, feeling like a heavy weight through the blanket,
“I’m sorry Dean! I - I don’t want him, I didn’t mean to say that!” you were too twisted up in the comforter to scramble away like you wanted to, so all you could do was shake violently under his hand,
“You have nothing to be afraid of , it’s just me now.” he rumbled, obviously trying to remain calm. The way you were acting was probably freaking him out a little,
“I’m so sorry sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” the hand on your shoulder began to knead your tense muscle there. Battling fear with love, you ever so slowly pulled the comforter down so you could see him, just to the tip of your nose.
He was watching you with concern drawn all over his features,
“See? Just me. . .” you blinked at him with wide (e/c) eyes, and managed to untangle yourself the rest of the way from the blankets despite your shaky limbs and something inside screaming at you not to.
He immediately opened his arms for you to crawl into, and in less than a second you were sitting on his lap, still shaking from the residual adrenaline lingering in your blood.
“You were so scary. . .” you whispered shakily, and felt his lips press to your temple,
“I know baby, I know.” he matched your tone, rocking you a little in his lap. Dean stroked your hair, hugging you tightly to him and constantly humming a single deep note that rumbled comfortingly against your side.
Tucking your head under his chin you allowed his comfort to work it’s magic, and in no time at all your eyelids began to droop, you flicked them open before it was too late,
“Dean. . .” you began, unsure about how he was gonna take this,
“Yeah,” he rumbled lowly, vibrating your cheek,
“I - I -” it was so hard to get out but you needed to do it. He waited patiently, “I need to sleep alone tonight.” there it was. Out in the open.
Now your boyfriend knew that he had scared you enough to sleep without him for the first time in months. His answer surprised you,
“Okay,” he continued rubbing your arm, “It’s alright I understand.”
“I love you,” you whispered with tears in your eyes,
“Always.” he replied with a final squeeze, “Let me take a look at that bite before I go.”
Nodding, you uncurled on his lap just enough to spread your legs over his thighs. A little spark of nerves coiled low in your belly, making your heart hurt at the knowledge you wouldn’t get over this very easily after all.
Dean’s big hand gripped the thigh in question and used his thumb to stretch the skin out enough so the bite was totally visible. It was deep. Even you could see that. And still steadily seeping blood.
With a whimper you turned your face into Dean’s firm chest so you didn’t have to look anymore, you hissed when you felt his rough thumb brush over the open wound.
“How’s it look?” you asked tentatively, hoping to God you wouldn’t need stitches.
“Sexy.” the primal undertone in his voice made you stiffen, eyes wide against his t-shirt,
“W-what?” his thumb pushed on the bite hard enough to make you yelp and try to slam your legs together, “D-Dean -”
“I said it looks fuckin’ sexy ,” he growled roughly. Everything was still besides your thumping heart and trembling frame. Even Dean, he was like a statue in every sense including his solid arms holding your tight to him in a way that said you weren’t going anywhere.
With tears muddling your vision, you slowly traced your eyes from his chest, past his smirking lips, and up to his eyes. His eyes that were eclipsed in onyx.
Black.
Dead.
Merciless.
“Whaddya say kid? Wanna take a roll in the hay?”
You shrieked.