Marked.

Dean x Female Reader

T/W Self Harm/ Scar mentions/ Violence (not exactly intentional but still it's kinda explicit)

_______________
Y/N
_______________
2:27am

You sat on the bed, running your fingers through your hair and watching Pretty Little Liars on your laptop. It was kind of a guilty obsession, and so girly that you knew the boys would heckle you mercilessly if they found out. The episode had just ended, and you closed your laptop halfway and realized your tea was cold. The bunker tended to be pretty evenly heated, but it still wasn't warm. However, as a rule, you generally disliked wearing pants to bed. Staying still for a moment and listening, you made sure that you couldn't hear either of the Winchesters moving around before easing your door open and walking down the hall to the kitchen with your mug. It's not that they hadn't seen you in a bathing suit, or the awkward occasional walk in if you forgot to lock the door when changing your clothes after a hunt. But you were wearing very lacey black panties, with one of Dean's big flannel shirts that you had borrowed (totally stolen) becase you had forgotten to do laundry this week. And with not wearing pants or long sleeves, all of the scars on your arms and legs were visible.  It was a rough time in your life, and although the thoughts did occasionally creep in, you had learnt to fight them off the same way you fought monsters. Fight as hard as you can, deal with it, and move on. But the scars seemed to take forever to fade. The occasional glance by the boys would be brushed off as hunting wounds, but when seen all at once, the purple-red and silvery scars were hard to explain away.

Reaching up to the cupboard to grab another tea bag, you started humming Black Dog by Led Zeppelin. While you waited for more water to boil, you went to the cupboard to grab a snack. You started dancing, slowly moving your hips to the song as you bent down to grab some cookies. You stopped singing to open the package with your teeth, when a strong hand wrapped around your waist and lips pressed to your neck as Dean's deep velvety voice picked up the song in a whisper.

"Hey, hey, mama, said the way you move, gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove."

You gasped, startled, but didn't pull away. You turned, trapped between the counter and the older Winchester and raised your eyebrows questioningly up at him.

He laughed quietly. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to scare you..I don't know what came over me, really. I just saw you and thought you looked so beautiful and-" he froze, looking at the scars on your wrist. You ripped your hand away and pushed him off of you. You avoided his gaze and bit your lip, chagrined. "I'm going back to bed." You said, hurriedly grabbing the package of cookies and reaching for your mug of tea. You turned to the door but his muscled arm blocked the way. You could see the angry red mark on his arm, standing out from all the other scars on his body. The Mark of Cain. You reached out distractedly to trace the mark and Dean winced and gritted his teeth. "Sorry.." You breathed, still avoiding his eyes as you tried to push past him.

"Y/N.." Dean whispered. The pain in his voice drew your attention, and you turned as the hunter reached out and took your hand. He kissed your lips softly. "What are these?" he asked quietly, his jaw set and his eyes angry and scared. He reached out as he spoke, and traced a line across one of your scars. Irrational fear and anxiety spiked through you, and in a split second, Dean was reeling back from having been hit in the face and you looked at your fist in shock. Before you knew it, you were slammed up against the cupboard and your lip was bleeding. The mug lay shattered on the floor, tea pooling around you. Your hunter instincts kicked in, and you fought to push Dean away, but your eyes snapped to Dean's face as you heard heard a dark chuckle. For a moment, you thought his eyes flashed black before his hands wrapped around your throat.

You thrashed around, trying to escape. This isn't Dean, you tried to reason with yourself. Tears sprung to your eyes as unconsciousness crept over you. This isn't.. Dean..