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notnaturalanahi · 6 years

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What Kinda Lame Name For a Demon is Dean?

Characters: 1st person Gender neutra!lReader, Demon!Dean, nameless Demon, OC’s (also unnamed). It can be a Demon!Dean x Reader if you want to.

Wc: 3167 (consider this a long drabble)

Warnings: Foul language, drinking, violence, blood, death (minor character), loose ends and loopholes, open ending.

[This is a crack fic, don’t lose sleep over it]

Summary: I decide to stop for a drink on my way home and it’s defenitely not what I expected for a wednesday night.

A/N: This piece is my entry for @evansrogerskitten Ash’s Hottest Dean Challenge my prompt is bolded in the text and there’s also a gif. I have so much writing this one. It was supposed to be a drabble of this scene that popped into my mind, but it turned out into this cracky/action thing.

Unbetad, brace yoourselves for mistakes.

Check out my Masterlist - Also you can Join my TAGlist - Or Talk to me, gimme some feedback

Whatever, love you. bye!

The weather’s chilly and drizzly tonight, from where I’m sitting at the counter I have the perfect view of the dark night and the empty street outside. Well, empty with the exception of the occasional car that rolls by with the windshield wipers mid speed or the passerby covered head to toe and carrying an umbrella or a few street dogs… Okay, maybe not that empty. Anyway, since I forgot my umbrella and only realized it after I got off work I decided to make a stop when I saw the bar down the street from my office was open. This first half of the week had been dreadful, so I deserve a drink to cut short the week.

Staring at my drink in hand I reconsider my previous plans. I made the decision as I walked into the establishment that I would only have two drinks, but now as I contemplate the last of the 2nd one I find my mouth itching for more, maybe just a 3rd or even a 4th after that one… I know I shouldn’t, I have an early morning tomorrow and I should be at home right now finishing with the retouches of my thesis. It’s been a long way but I think after the professor’s last corrections it’s gonna be perfect… so yeah, I’m going home.

A sudden chill runs down my spine, as if a cold breeze hit my skin or someone breathed right behind my back, twisting my neck I see noone. The front door remains closed, a big clock above it telling me it’s 8:45pm. Taking in my surrounding for the first time since I walked in 30 minutes ago I see the bar is almost deserted. To my left, a happy looking couple, too immersed in their own conversation, looking super cute together, sitting on the same side of the booth. To the right a drunkard nursing on his beer, eyes looking beyond anything, right into the astral plane. Also somewhere around the back is the bartender, a middle-age guy who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

Sighing I look up and notice the amount of dirt in my glasses, I’ve lost count of how many times a day I had to wipe them today, I snatch a paper napkin from the metallic holder while removing them from my face and proceed to carefully rub the lenses. Once I finish I put them back on. Why can I just not wear glasses, what’s the meaning of having eyes if they’re not gonna work properly?

Ugh, the story of my life.

I shiver again and take it as a cue, in one semi-large chug I throw back the rest of my vodka, grimacing at the scolding sensation traveling down my esophagus and I know I’m gonna regret that in five minutes or less, my stomach’s not gonna let me forget about it. Immediately I fish onto my bag for my ever evanescent wallet. When I find it, I pull a big enough bill to cover for both my drinks and a very, very modest tip -sorry to the bartender but as student/trainee I don’t have much to spare-. And slide the sleeves of my jacket over my arms, followed by the strap of the crossbody bag before jumping off the barstool.

Apparently my eyes were closed or maybe I’ve fallen asleep while moving; I don’t know I’m tired, it’s been a long day, because I only notice the tall man standing right next to me when my face collides with the solid, yet tender wall of muscles that is his wide chest. I open my eyes.

“Oh shit! Sorry, I didn’t see you there. Almost like you appeared outta nowhe-” I can’t help it, I look up adjusting my glasses already fuming at the back of my head cause I will have to wipe them again and my words cut short, I swallow the rest of my apology down. At the end of broad shoulders and resting above a thick neck I find an extremely handsome face. Jawline for days, covered with sexy scruff. Plump lips -cocksure smirk- slightly crooked nose, deep, deep green/ hazel eyes that stare down at me and all of that served with a side of freckles dusted all over.

So hot, I hate him.

He just stares, smug smile and wrinkly eyes. He’s wearing more layers than a normal person needs tonight -it’s not that cold- and his hair is combed to the side.

“Leaving already?” obviously he ignores my apology.

I blink the salacious thoughts away and focus on his piercing gaze “It’s late,” I explain plain and simple.

I attempt to sidestep him but apparently somewhere in the middle our four words conversation he laid an arm on the back of my old chair, successfully trapping me between himself and the unmovable counter. I look back up and of course the mother fucker knows what he’s doing, a mischievous glimpse sparkles in his eyes.

I sigh, dramatically.

“Look I’m flattered. A tall, hot guy like you coming up to me. But hooking up is not why I’m in here tonight. So I dunno. Maybe we can exchange numbers, you know… get a raincheck. You can call me on the weekend? Tonight I have plenty to do, and unfortunately you’re not on the list.” I know he hasn’t say anything and I’m rambling a little. But certainly I don’t give a shit. Perhaps I did some time ago but at this point in my life, I don’t anymore.

He chuckles. A hand comes up and I still myself because I have no idea what’s so funny or what his intentions are. Thick and long fingers -I gulp at the sight- pass through his mane, pushing it all back and I think he looks even better that way than styled to the side.

“What?” I ask while trying to push his arm off the metallic bar at the back of the stool, realizing how solid it is, pure fucking muscle. My hand pulls at it but nothing happens.

“Dollface, I’m not here to flirt and sleep with you,” he states, “although I wouldn’t say no to you,” he adds giving me a once over and throwing a chin shrug to the mix.

When he stops talking my eyes shoot up, no longer entertained with the way my fingers look hooked around his forearm, or how the tips don’t touch each other as I wrap them around his wrist. With a coked eyebrow I demand to know what he means.

“I’m here to kill you,” he simply says, like it’s nothing.

I back away a little and snort at his joke. It’s gotta be a joke right… Who comes up to someone they don’t know at a bar and tell them they’re gonna kill them?

I let out a chuckle that I can’t hold in and he joins me. Our laughter increasing by the second and soon we engage in a full body laugh, belly shaking and I let my hand lay on his firm chest because I need to feel that firmness again. All of the sudden he stops laughing, I’m too busy to notice though, cackling away. Both my hands now on his chest, supporting my weight missing the way he leans in forcing me to bend backwards until my back hits the barstool.

My eyes flutter open and his face is right there, deadpan expression. “I’m serious,” he hisses, hot breath fanning my face.

“Okay,” I gush rolling my eyes.

His gaze drops, entrusting me to do the same and as I follow his line of sight down his chest and hairless stomach, up to the waistband of his jeans where he’s pulling the hem of his shirts up for me to see… and Oh. My. God! That belt’s kinda low around his hips and ugh they’re so narrow. Why are his hips so narrow? Is this how he wants to kill me?

Sign me up, please!

His hand let go of the fabric and it lowers down, my eyes widen because I think he’s gonna open his fly or something and flash me and I don’t know if I wanna see that … not here at least. Except what I see is the handle of a knife, a blade that seems to be made out wood or bone or something… Eesh!

“Are those teeth?” I slap myself mentally, seriously though? The guy it’s showing me his lower abdomen and a knife, of curse the knife is actually what matters! I compel myself to stop looking, because as alluring that sight may be, he just told me he was here to kill me. Closing my eyes I lift my head to I can look at him in the eyes and-

“FUCK! Your eyes are totally black. Are you aware of that?”

He only nods.

“Okay it’s that because some medical condition or some like that and I’m being a total asshole for bringing it up. I’m so sorry!”

“I’m a demon,” he says with a malicious smile.

“Whaaaaaaat? No you’re not!”

He sighs, not even trying to conceal this exasperation,and with a blink his eyes go back to the normal deep green -yeah I’m gonna go with green- and he signals to the bartender, asking for a whiskey when the server gets closer.

“Hey!” I complain and he quickly changes his order from one to two. “Thanks! If you’re gonna kill me, at least buy me a drink first… like common courtesy,” I joke.

Breathing through his nose he pulls the barstool next to the one we were standing by and sits down. He’s so tall he only needs to move his ass to the side and he’s sitting. Me on the other hand, almost need crampons to climb into that thing like the first time, but I make it just in time to see the bartender deliver our drinks and some peanuts.

“I’m assuming you know everything about me, or at least enough… I mean, you’re sure I’m the one you wanna kill?” I say.

“I’m sure,” he answers before his lips latched to the glass.

“Oh-kay…you have a name?”

“Dean.”

“Dean, Really?”

“What the hell’s wrong with my name?”

“Nothing it’s just… Kinda lame ain’t it. I was hoping for a Moloch or Aemon or I don’t know… errr Abaddon?”

He gives me a killer look. “Dean’s fine though… Yeah, or perhaps you could also go with Deacon. Deacon has more of a demonic charm I think.” Dean makes a sound, kinda like a growl or something. “Okay, okay. Dean!”

“So what’s the deal, Dean. How’s this gonna happen? You gonna get me drunk and stab me with your big bone?”

He turns to face me, smirking, lines appearing in his forehead because of his questioning eyebrows. A horse laugh escapes me when I realize what I said, but I cut myself, this is not a funny situation.

“I mean, you come in here, pretend you wanna sleep with me and at the last second you drop this bomb on me and that’s it? When you gonna do it or why?” I move my bag from the middle and start removing my jacket.

“Shut up,” he commands. Breathing deeply he combs his hair with his hand again and looks at me sternly.

“Fine,” I complay and bite my lips into my mouth and turn to hang my jacket on the back of my seat, sitting forward in silence. He has the knife, so I should do as he says I guess. Taking a peanut from the bowl I play with it, rolling it around my fingers. Pulling that little tip of and chewing it with my front teeth.

I open my mouth to say something, closing it right away because I don’t even know what to say. I take the small rimmed glass in front of me and take a big gulp almost spitting it all out instantly. “God, I hate whiskey.” After that we both remain silent for I’m not sure how long until I can’t take it anymore and I jump off the stool.

He does the same and stands right in front of me. “I’m just gonna go to the restroom,” I tell him, lifting my right hand up as promise.

“How do I know you’re not gonna run on me?”

“If I do run, would you come after me, find me?” I allow my hand to lay on his arm, enjoying the way his muscles twist under my touch.

“I will,” Dean promises, roaring near my face.

“Then it’s useless for me to run. I’m gonna pee, if I don’t come out in… let’s say 4 minutes you can come looking for me.” With a couple of soft slaps on the side of his arm I walk past him and towards the restrooms, not even looking back to see if he’s watching me because I can totally feel the way his eyes pierced a hole in the back of my head.

Once in the restroom I sigh and closed the door behind me. Apparently I’m dying tonight… That’s happening. Shit!

Bending down to take a good looks in the stalls I check all of them are empty. I don’t like going to the bathroom with people sitting right next to me where they can hear everything I do. I pick the one on the far back and do what I have to do. I can see the stains all over my glasses again but chose not to wipe them to hurry it up a little just in case. When I get out I go to wash my hands and I hear the door sing open. The bar was empty so of course I assume Dean came to check on me.

“Hey it’s been like 2 minutes, you could have a little more trust in me. I told you I wasn’t gonna run,” I joke to my killer because that’s how I am and rinse the foam of my hands. “Besides, the moment I start running I will trip over my own feet and that’d be it for me,” I add while giggling but the second I lift my gaze from the jet of water I see someone else. A man, definitely not Dean standing right behind me at the sinks.

I turn around, my eyes scan his tall form, and head to toes black attire. He blinks and his eyes match his clothes.

“Fuck!” I try to go for the door, but he’s quicker than me -of course- and steps in my way, pulling my head and throwing me back. I stagger but surprisingly I keep my feet on the ground, his large hand lands on my throat and he’s pushing me to walk back, until my back hits the wall of the first stall.

My hands grip around his forearm, but no matter how much force I apply his grip won’t loosen, he’s a lot stronger than I am -not that that’s so hard to accomplish.

“I already have a demon here to kill me,” I force myself to speak through his hold, maybe he doesn’t know about Dean.

My eyes are starting to get lazy though and the blurry spots appear in my line of vision. The bathroom door whips open, crashing against the wall and closing again due to the forced and I’m able to see Dean walking towards us.

“A demon,” I scream, although I know it’s barely a whisper and I’m not really sure Dean can hear me, but I point to the demon with my finger, so he can catch my drift.

Dean retrieves the bone knife with teeth from his jeans and launches for this other demon, who ducks in time and he toss me aside, as if I were just a piece of paper. I land with my side of a trash can, wailing in pain.

The new demon, flashes from under his sleeve a long silver pointy knife, and it makes me wonder what’s with demons and funny shaped knives. It’s that like a trend?

They both stand right in front of each other, like facing a duel or something. “All you Abaddon groupies are the same, you know that?” Dean asks rhetorically.

Wow, Abaddon does exist it’s not just mythological!

“You can’t just can’t accept that the queen is dead, can you?” Dean continuous.

Oh, and it’s she and she’s dead. I sit up because I never in my life thought I see a demon, less of all two demons ready to duel… Will they count their steps?

“Maybe we just can’t accept that a douche like you was the one who killed her,” the other demon spits with anger.

It doesn’t truly surprise to know it was Dean who killed her. He does look like the guy who’d take down a big bad legendary demon. “Ah. Yeah, that’s got to hurt, doesn’t it?”

That was too cocky, Dean should learn to be a little more humble.

The fight it’s quick, the other demon, swings to get Dean with his pointy knife but Dean is faster -ugh soooooo hot!- and blocks his move, spinning him around and jabbing his bone, teethy knife into his chest. I gasp, unintentionally when orange light shoots from the demon’s eyes and chest.

Then Dean let his body fall to the ground once he’s dead and blood start pooling around his body. I get up as fast as I can, I don’t want his blood to touch me. Dean looks at me, not even preneting he’d help me get up and nods towards me.

“I’m okay,” I raps clearing my voice. My throat feels swollen already.

He comes closer to me, his hand moving up and I freeze because he’s gonna kill me. He’s gonna do it and my last words were I’m okay, so lame. At last second his warm palm rests on my chest, fingers inspecting the bruises forming around my neck and I open my eyes.

“Let’s go somewhere you and me,” he says close to my face. I blink dumbfounded.

“What, you and me?” I swallow, the soreness of my throat still there. “Where?”

“I dunno, anywhere,” he shrugs, bending over to clean his knife of the dead demon clothes.

“You wanna kill me,” I refresh his memory in case he’s forgotten.

“I just save your life,” he defends.

“I guess you’re right, I’m still alive. But what are the chances of that becoming a thing?” I caress my own neck, whining in pain.

“Let me ask you this. If I really wanted to kill you, wouldn’t’ve done it by now?”

It’s my turn to shrug. “I guess.”

“Let’s go. You should get some ice on that neck before it gets worse,” Dean says, his hand on my lower back as he hold the bathroom door open for me and leads me towards the back door of the bar.

Everything:

@nadiandreu7, @thegreatficmaster (no Sam/Jared), @mogaruke, @samisimportant, @ria132love, @donnaintx, @feelmyroarrrr, @just-another-busy-fangirl, @love-kittykat21, @emilyymichelle, @walkingkhaleesi, @imagining-supernatural, @kdfrqqg, @charliebradbury1104, @thedevilinthedetails, @docharleythegeekqueen, @artprincessbree, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels, @supernatural-girl97, @sam-inaflannel, @sammys-lost-shoe, @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester, @nanie5, @roxyspearing, @emoryhemsworth, @rambling-rabbit, @akshi8278, @meganwinchester1999, @geekgirl1213, @maui137, @creepykatftw @novakfandoms, @waywardasfudge, @kickasscas67, @spnwoman, @tattooedmomster13, @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou, @asgardianvamp21, @michell868,

@possesstheheart, @thatpeachybandgirl, @read-the-reid, @supernaturalmistress @jensen-gal, @its-my-perky-nipples, @esoltis280,

Dean/Jensen:

@missmotherhen, @valerieshubin, @chennyetomlinson, @justanotherdeangirl, @jennell79, @ruprecht0420, @jalove-wecallhimdean, @evyiione, @laurafloradora, @fanfreak07, @superapplepie, @wingedcatninja, @sandlee44, @plaidstiel-wormstache, @lessons-of-red, @supernatural-fan-123, @mandilion76, @blackcherrywhiskey, @akshi8278, @papertrailsstrewnacrossthefloor, @shut-ur-face-and-get-in-the-car, @aly-winchester, @winchesterdemon67, @supernatural-strangerthings-1980

#what kinda lame name for a demon is dean?#ash's hottest dean challenge #evansrogerskitten #demon!dean x reader #crack #violence #death #blood #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction

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