omnis satanica protestas

Black Eyes - Imagine Request

Request: By @jeffry4ever : Could I get a fanfic of DeanxReader with a lot of fluff and maybe some angst. Can it be from possession and they like talking between them out of it?? But of curse in the end they end up making out or something.

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam (mentioned), demon.

Word count: 2,077

Warnings: Possessed Dean (duh), gore, physical and psychological violence, SLIGHT mentions of sex, language (?) Un-edited.

A/N: WHo doesn’t love a deanmon fic? Well, I honestly do and I hope you like it just as much. Feedback is highly appreaciated (positive and negative). Thank you so much for requesting.

How had it happen? Who had broken the symbol, the tattoo? Does it matter? Dean was… He wasn’t himself, or maybe he was, deep inside him.

“Dean!” She screamed, thick drops of sweet falling over her face like tears.

“Dean is gone!” He roared. He looked just like Dean, and his voice was the same, it was all him except for the empty black eyes that substituted his green ones.

“Dean, please!” She cried once more. Her voice was raspy and her throat was about to start bleeding.

The night was cold, a soft rain falling over and mixing with her sweat as she walked in reverse, trying to keep a good distance between his possessed self and her. There were bodies all over the ground, as well as puddles of blood that were slowly being washed off with the help of the rain.

“You stubborn girl, no wonder why he likes you.” The demon hissed through Dean’s body, “Why can’t you see? He is gone and he won’t come back.” He showed her the tattoo.

How many times had she traced that same tattoo with her cold fingers in the morning? How many times had she zoned out by the simple sight of it? She knew that tattoo by memory, and that, whatever she was seeing, wasn’t it. It had a huge red line across it, presumably drawn with a knife, and dark blood had most of it covered.

“Dean, you have to fight this!” She begged, crying. The demon had started stepping forward, closer to her.

Dean’s laugh rang on her ears, except it wasn’t his – at least not completely. The demon had taken full control of the hunter. What to do?

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…” Her words were clear, and her eyes were glued to the hunter.

The demon panicked, frantically looking for something in the back pocket of Dean’s jeans.

“Omnis satanica protestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversii…” The demon found what he was looking for and turned around, giving his back to (Y/N).

“Not gonna work, darling!” Had she ever heard Dean calling her ‘darling’? Perhaps not, but it didn’t matter right now.

“Omnis congregatio et secta…” What was he doing? “Diabolica, ergo, draco maledicte ecclesiam,” the demon roared and (Y/N) noticed there was blood coming out of his arm “tuam secura tibi facias libertate” she spoke fast, willing to finish before the demon could hurt Dean more, “”servire, te rogamus, audio nos.”

There was no black smoke, no more painful groans, no nothing except for a cold laugh she hadn’t heard on Dean before. The demon turned back to face (Y/N), flashing his black eyes cockily.

“I told you it wouldn’t work.” He grinned.

The huntress’ breath turned faster and heavier, her heart was beating so loudly she could hear it. What to do? She looked down at his arm, the one that had been bleeding; the demon had carved a binding link.

“Son of a bitch…” She whispered.

“Language.” The demon joked, “You’re already talking like this… scumbag.”

“Don’t dare to talk about him like that!” She cried. The demon tilted his head and gave her a fake smile.

“Aww, little girl is in love.” He pouted, “But I thought you two had agreed not to… You know, because it’s not a serious relationship.”

“Shut up, bitch!” (Y/N) roared, “Dean!”

“He won’t come to save you, not anymore.” Tears fell from her eyes, “Don’t cry, it’s not worth it. Trust me.” The demon smirked, “I know how he feels and truth is; he doesn’t love you that much.”

“Dean!” She begged once more, trying her best to ignore the demon’s words.

“He is only there for the sex; otherwise, he would’ve dumped you many years ago.” The demon hissed, “In fact, he thought the maid from the motel is even hotter than you.”

She couldn’t control it, not anymore. Burning rage grew on her insides, and it wasn’t even because the demon was pissing her off; no, it was raw jealousy.

“Demons always lie.” She mumbled, clenching her fists tightly as her criteria got clouded slowly by her getting jealous.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” The demon shrugged his shoulders as a mocking smile grew on Dean’s face.

Was it her inner rage? Was it the hunter impulse? She would never know, but one thing was sure: She had tackled the demon and now she was over him just the same way she had been over Dean that same morning; except she wasn’t kissing him, no, instead her fists were punching his face.

After a few punches, a force threw her away, slamming her body against the nearest wall.

“There it is!” The demon laughed as he stood up. If her fists had made any kind of harm, it was gone by the time he walked in front of her. “You know it’s true.”

“Dean, you better fight this or I swear to Chuck I’ll kick yours and the fudging demon’s ass!” She fumed as her eyes met the black ones.

“He can’t hear you.”

A strong fist punched her once, then twice and then a last time before she was dropped to the floor. The demon lifted her by the hem of the shirt as punched her again, breaking her nose in the process.

“Dean, please.” She mumbled weakly.

“Dean, please.” The demon mimicked in a high voice, “Dean is gone, baby.”

The girl managed to let go of his grip, falling instantly to the floor. She tried to crawl over to were her knife had fallen before. The demon laughed dryly as he turned her to lay flat back on the floor with a kick.

“You poor thing… Think you can beat me when I have this meat suit?” He extended Dean’s arms, showing of his body.

“Dean, please… Don’t do this.” The demon sat on her, causing her to lose a bit of air for a second. His face was right in front of (Y/N)’s. The black eyes were green back again, and although they were darker, she recognized them as Dean’s. “Dean…” She weakly cupped his face, getting a smug grin from the demon, “Remember that time we stopped in front of the Grand Canyon to sleep? Although only Sam slept because you and I got out of the car and…”

“Won’t work.”

“And we just stared at it for over an hour before we…” The demon put some weight back on her, again losing breath for a second, “We ended up on Baby’s hood, looking at the stars and…”

“You’re losing your time.” The demon chanted, although she could tell it was starting to panic.

“Remember all those nights on Baby’s hood, counting the stars and…” She coughed, “And telling each other stories? You loved them, remember?”

“Stop, it’s a waste of time.” The demon ordered, pulling her hair.

“Remember that time we celebrated your birthday for the first time in years?” She cried out as she felt her scalp giving up, “You were amazed by how many people showed up.”

“I said stop!” The demon hissed, ripping a whole strand of hair off her head. The huntress cried in pain, not willing to surrender.

“Remember all those morning cooking breakfast together, and the Netflix binges, or the road trips… Please Dean, remember.” She begged, “You can do this…”

The demon hissed, pulling a knife out of Dean’s pocket and pressing it against her neck. Small droplets of blood started dripping, but it was nothing compared to the amount of blood there would be if Dean didn’t take control.

“Last words?”


“Awful choice.” And just when the demon was about to rip her throat out, his green eyes became light again, breathing in deeply as he managed to supress the beast. “(Y/N)…” Dean mumbled.

“Dean.” She whispered. Dean broke the binding link just in the same way the demon had broken his tattoo, nodding at the huntress for her to start the exorcism again.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…” Her voice was barely audible, but Dean could feel it working, “Omnis satanica protestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversii…” Dean roared, a fight for control taking place inside his mind, “Omnis congregatio et secta…” Cough, “Diabolica, ergo, draco maledicte ecclesiam,” his eyes turned black again as black smoke started to come out “tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audio nos.”

Dean fell over her, in the same way he had done before – breathless, sweaty, tired… Before he could do or say anything else, the beaten huntress became unconscious, drifting off to the dream world.


“Heya, sweetheart.” Dean mumbled, caressing her cheek as her eyes fluttered open. Although it took her a few extra seconds to adjust her blurry vision, she recognized Dean instantly.

“Dean…” She breathed out.

“I’m here.” He smiled, although she wasn’t happy. A soft punch hit his shoulder and Dean knew that, if it weren’t for her crappy estate, it would’ve been a lot harder. “What was that for?”

“I know about the maid at the motel.” She groaned, “And about why you stay with me… You lying piece of shit!” And although she was nearly voiceless, Dean froze at her intensity.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” Dean replied in a joking tone, although he was concerned as hell.

“The demon told me you liked the maid better, and he told me you only stick around for sex…” Dean huffed, not letting her insult him again.

“Demons always lie.” Dean mumbled, stroking her hair.

(Y/N) groaned again as she rolled to her side; they were still at the alley, among the rest of the dead bodies. She managed to get on her feet and struggled to walk away.

“(Y/N), do you really trust a demon better?” Dean asked. He sounded truly hurt.

“Maybe I do, considering the fact that you’ve been acting strange lately.” Her raspy voiced added some spice to her already pissed off statement.

Dean breathed out a sigh and pulled her, the pushed her to a wall, trapping her between his body and the cold bricks.

“Look at me, (Y/N).” He commanded, but the girl didn’t obey. Instead, she looked anywhere but him. “Please look at me.”

“You could’ve told me how you truly felt and…”

“Look at me, dammit!” Dean growled, finally getting her to look at him.

“Do you really think she’s hot?” She cried.


“Answer me!” She cried.

“Want to know why Sam didn’t come? Because he’s back at the motel flirting… Possibly already in bed with her! Yes, I told Sam she was hot, but Heaven knows I would never consider anyone hotter than you.” Dean mumbled.

“Why have you been acting so strange, then?” Dean breathed out heavily. He licked his lips and looked away for a second before focusing back on her bloody face.

“I just… I can’t… It’s too early and…”

“And what, Dean? Why didn’t you just dump me?” She roared, taking off the last bit of patience in Dean.

“Because I love you! I love you, dammit! And I wanted to tell you but I was afraid that you wouldn’t say it back and…” Her eyes became as wide as possible considering the many impacts she received around them.

“Do you really mean that?” She interrupted him. Dean shut up and nodded.

“Look at me in the eyes, and tell me if I’m lying.” He spoke, cupping her face careful not to touch any open wound.

“I love you too.” She whispered, nuzzling in his hand.

“You do?” Dean sighed and she nodded.

Soon, her broken lips were over his. It wasn’t the kind of kiss they were expecting to get after they said those three words, but it was the best they could do without hurting her even more. Bloody or not, it reflected how much they loved each other, in good and in bad.

“Let’s get back.” Dean whispered over her lips, “That son of a bitch beat the crap out of you.”

She giggled. “I thought Sam was busy with the maid.”

“We can get our own room.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows flirtingly, causing her to giggle even more.

He held her hand tightly, a silent promise hidden in said gesture. They walked over to the black car and drove off to the motel room, where the rest of their lives began. They didn’t need a ring, or a big and fancy wedding, they just needed each other.