Actions

Work Header

Gives You Hell

Chapter Text

It’s pitch black as you walk out to your car in the abandoned parking lot. The only light coming from a tall street lamp that you make sure you always parked under. Your stupid boss has kept you late again, and probably will refuse to pay you overtime. You grumble to yourself, really wishing you had enough money to quit, but something has to pay off student loans, right? As you near your car you fumble with the keys, dropping them on the dark pavement, “Shit” you mutter under your breath. The parking lot is so dark you can’t see them, so you have to get on your hands and knees. Your hand rubs against hard gravel and pavement until you make contact with your keys. As you grab them a boot steps on your hand, putting pressure on your bones.

You scream in surprise trying to jerk your hand back, but you are met with pain as the boot presses down even harder. “Get off!” you yell. You hear a deep menacing chuckle, and you slowly shift your gaze up. You can’t make out a face, but you know it’s a tall man. A very strong, tall man. He leans down and you hold your breath as he removes his foot to grab your writs. He helps you on to your feet.

“I apologize, I was only trying to help” the man explained in a deep voice.

“Yeah well, thanks anyway” you say shortly, before grabbing your keys. You try to make a hasty retreat but the man grabs your wrist with bruising force. “Let go!” you scream at the top of your lungs. You make a hard fist and punch him square in the jaw. Something cracks but you’re not sure if it’s from him or you, because your hand is throbbing and you can’t move your fingers very well.

The man gets a bit more aggressive; you just pissed him off. “No need to be rude” he says with agitation, his calm character slipping. You are able to wriggle yourself away from his hold and your make a mad dash for your car. But as soon as you reach the driver’s door your body goes sailing off to the side, flung around by an invisible force, and you hit the ground hard. The pavement scrapes your skin, burning a bit. You look up dazed to see the man under the lot light. He raises up his fist, ready to strike. As his fist comes down all you can see is a pair of glossy black eyes glaring at you. Knock out.

 

You come to in a motel room, your head throbbing. Pain is pulsing through all of your body and you feel as though you are going to be sick. Your vision is a bit blurry, and you can’t help but wonder if you have a concussion. You go to lift your hand, but find you are unable to move your arms. You look down to see you are tied to a kitchen chair, your wrists behind you. You strain against the ropes, but there is absolutely no budge. You begin to rock your body, trying to move the entire chair, but you freeze when you see movement out of the corner of your eyes. The tall man is sitting on a motel bed, and he fluidly gets up and walks over to you, an evil smirk resting on his lips. Your heart instantly drops as you realize this cannot be good.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just studies you. You squirm under his gaze and you feel as though you may cry. You look up at him, noticing how bright his eyes green are, and how strong his jawline is. He’s younger than you thought he would be, early to mid-thirties. Under any other circumstance you would have definitely been hitting on him. But the constant pain at your forehead reminds you that he was the only one doing any hitting. The tension in the room continues to grow as he continues to be silent. You know he is trying to intimidate you, and it’s working. Your pulse is quickening and you feel as though you can’t get a deep enough breath. You finally decide to break the silence, unable to stand his suffocating gaze.

“How long was I out?” You squeak, trying to maintain eye contact with the man.

“About 15 hours” he states nonchalantly, looking amused as your eyes widen.

“You’re a demon aren’t you?” you eventually say, terrified that you are right. The man frowns at you, his eyes flicking to deep black.

“What gave you that idea?” He asks sarcastically, his tone biting. Shit. You knew exactly what you were in for. Your parents used to be hunters, and they taught you everything about all types of supernatural creatures. You decided to go the normal way in life, Stanford University, get a degree, find a normal job. And yet here you are, the supernatural world catching up to you, like it did with all ex-hunters.

“So what are you going to do to me?” you ask defeated. There is no way this can end well, you don’t carry weapons or Holy Water anymore, and this demon seriously caught you off guard.

The demon chuckled, “Actually trying to figure that out still. I’m pretty new at this, but I know I want to cause you some kind of pain. Maybe I’ll kill ya, or torture ya, perhaps both? Either way, I know that I want to hear your screams.”

You shudder, anticipating the agony that you will be thrown into. “Who are you?” you spit, suddenly becoming very angry at the whole situation. If you were gonna die, you weren’t gonna be quiet about it.

“Dean Winchester. At least I was, I don’t know, that pussy doesn’t really exist anymore.”

“Winchester?” you whisper to yourself, the name sounding strangely familiar. Sam! Holy shit Sam! “Your Sam Winchester’s brother!” you say in shock, trying to understand what was going on.

“I used to be. That miserable fuck is not my brother. How the hell do you know him?” You look around the motel, trying to think of how you should answer. You stare at the cracking walls, the disgusting carpet, anything but the demon standing in front of you. You knew Sam from Stanford. You were decently close, and you probably knew more about the real Sam than anyone else. The moment you saw him you pegged him as a hunter. He constantly watched everything, unknowingly scanning for danger. He carried himself the way your parents did. After growing up in the life, you just knew. You would hang out with him every once in a while. He was the only one who knew about your past, and you were the only one who knew the truth about his. You doubt that he would still remember you.

“I, uh, didn’t know him that well. I think we had a few classes together.”

“You’re lying” he says dangerously. “But fine, you don’t wanna tell me? You can take it to the grave for all I care.” You gulp, knowing it may be sooner than you had planned. He walks over to you, and he leans in his breath playing at your ear, “You are going to be fun to kill.”

You glare at him, defiance bubbling up inside of you. “Christo” you mutter, and Dean cringes in agitation. He slaps you in the face, and your cheek stings violently as your eyes begin to water. But you don’t back down, “I’m not scared of you” you lie, sounding much braver than you feel. “You’re nothing but a disgusting abomination. So how bout you just spare me the threats and just kill me?” You challenge. You know you are getting him angry but you don’t care, you’re furious. You hate demons and everything they do. In your youth you met too many people whose lives were completely destroyed by theses bastards.

“You’re not scared of me?” he challenges, bringing out his knife. It was huge and brown, and looked as though it had teeth that created it’s jagged edges. He cuts a deep gash in your cheek and you have to fight the urge to scream. “Cuz you should be, bitch” he growls. He pushes his finger against your head, touching the spot where he knocked you out. You hiss loudly, as he prods the tender area, applying bruising force. “I think we will start with torture. Maybe first we will take care of that pretty little mouth of yours that likes to talk back so much.”

“Fuck you!” you scream. If only you could remember any of that damn Latin you had been taught so long ago.

“See, that’s the kind of disrespect I was referring to,” and he punches you in the mouth. Your head jerks back, straining your neck. You feel at least two teeth break and the instant taste of coppery blood. You try to move your mouth but your lips have already swollen up and begin to pulsate mercilessly. You feel tears stream from your eyes down your cheeks, wet and hot. Dean leans in too close, getting a good look at his handiwork. “That’s better” he mutters.  You go to say something, but one of your teeth falls out of your mouth and onto the floor, staining the carpet red with blood.

Suddenly your cell phone rings, causing you to jerk against your restraints. Dean looks at you suspiciously, but decides to answer it. “What?” he snaps.  His eyes widen, “Ohh Sam. I’m afraid she’s a bit tied up at the moment. Can I take a message?” The demon pauses his face forming into a scowl. “Oh, I haven’t killed her, yet. You better hurry, because the clock is ticking for this little cunt.” And he hangs up the phone before chucking it into the wall, shatter it to pieces. You flinch at his movements.

“That was your old friend Sam Winchester” the demon says, as if the name leaves a sour taste in his mouth. “Apparently he saw that you went missing about the same time I escaped, and he wanted to see if there was a connection. For being such a fuck wit he can be pretty smart.”

You try to move your lips, every word unbearable, but you manage. “He’s gonna kill you, you know that?” You mumble out, spitting out some blood. Dean just smirks at you.

“You’re so naïve. Sam won’t kill me. He’s definitely going to try to rescue you like some god damn hero, but he won’t kill me. The son of a bitch still thinks his big brother is in here somewhere; delusional bastard.” A glimmer of hope flutters against your ribs. Rescued? Shit, could you stay alive that long? If memory served, Sam had seemed like a pretty damn good hunter. And especially if he’s been doing this since he left Stanford, you imagine that he would find you both relatively quickly.

“Why aren’t you running away if you know he’s coming?” you question, hoping maybe Dean would flee.

“Two birds with one stone. He basically delivers himself to me, I get to see the stupid look on his face when he sees your tortured mangled body clinging on to life, and then I kill him. It won’t take him long, I only traveled one county over from him.”

Your head begins to swim; tortured and mangled were not words you liked to be applied to you. You don’t know if you are relieved that Dean won’t be killing you yet. That means there is still a chance, but this was one nasty demon, and you may not want to live after what he does to you. He circles you slowly, his knife tracing the skin around your throat to the back of your neck. You can feel its sharpness, but he has such control that it doesn’t cut you. “Oh what should I do to you?” he asks, “we’ve got a little time till Sammy fuck boy gets here. So let’s have some fun.” He rolls up his sleeves, looking like he’s about to get really into it. You notice a strange marking on his arm, but you’ve never seen it before.

“What’s that?” you whisper, nodding your head to his now exposed forearm.

“Don’t worry about it” he growls as he unbuttons your blouse. Your breathing gets erratic, and you have no idea what he’s planning. He unbuttons it all the way down to the base of your bra, leaving your skin exposed. “Nice tits” he comments, biting his bottom lip. You involuntarily let out a concerned whine, a bit of your feistiness subsiding.

He brings the blade up to your clavicle, resting it on your skin. He drags the blade across it, piercing your flesh, a small trail of blood running down your chest and into your cleavage. You whine at the sting, and he pushes in a little deeper. His smile is maniacal and dark, and his eyes go onyx. He drags it all across your chest, blood beginning to ooze messily, staining your bra. The pain is excruciating as the bite of the blade damages your skin. You begin to let the tears fall, unable to keep them in. You want to pout but your bloodied mouth hurts too much to contort into a frown. Dean lifts the blade off your skin giving one last slash, and you wince nearly fainting from the pain.

“I think that’ll scar up nicely” Dean whispers in your ear. He looks down to survey his work, your blood smeared over all of your skin now. You look down and see that all of that movement was him carving a word into you.

“You carved your name into me?!” you scream in disbelief, cringing at the pain you feel in your jaw and gums.

“Well you are my first victim. Call me sentimental but I thought it would be nice to put my…signature on it.”

“I hope you rot in Hell” you scream at him.

“Been there done that. Old news” he mutters, clearly more interested in looking over your body, scanning for different ways he could plunge you into agony and despair.

“Christo” you mutter again in defiance, causing him to jerk a bit.

“Would you just shut your whore mouth?” he yells, backhanding you. You scream in pain as the blow splits your lip and loosens yet another tooth. Hot streams pour from your eyes, momentarily blinding you. Sobs sit in your throat and you feel as if all the oxygen had been taken from you. You drop your head down, feeling as if you might pass out. “That’s more like it” he whispers in your ear, lewdly tracing his tongue around the cartilage. You shiver at his close proximity, but you lack the strength to do much about it. Suddenly you remember; you remember some of the Latin used in exorcisms. You begin to chant it quietly under your breath, but Dean notices, and yells loudly. “I thought I told you to shut the fuck up?” he screeches before plunging the blade into your shoulder, piercing the muscle.

The sensation is excruciating and you release the most feral and shrill scream of your life; it sounds nearly inhuman. You can feel your muscle tear, all of the sinews snapping under the blade. He leaves it in and you stare at it, sticking out from your flesh and you dry heave. Nothing comes out though, after all you haven’t eaten anything recently. You begin to sob uncontrollably, but every motion shifts the blade inside you, just causing more pain and damage.

“I can’t take it!” you scream, your brave façade crumbling away in front of Dean. “Please stop, please?” You can’t fight anymore, you wanted to be tough up until the bitter end. But it’s too much. Dean yanks the blade out of you, pulling your whole body forward in the chair as some of your nerves become severed. You can only register pain, your body one entity of pure excruciating pulsations.

“Oh, the poor little slut can’t take it?” Dean chides in a distasteful, mocking tone. “We’re just getting started babe.” And he gives you a kiss on the mouth, pushing against your beaten lips, and you whine at the pain. He breaks the kiss, blood smeared on his face; you’re blood.

Suddenly the door swings open as Sam Winchester busts in. Dean looks a bit surprised, but not at all concerned. You just drop your head in relief, thinking that this could all be over soon.

“My, my, you found us in record time didn’t you?” Dean snaps, gripping his blade tighter.

Sam looks over to you, his eyes widening in horror. You must look worse than you thought. “Dean, step away from her” Sam warns, slowly making his way past the kitchen and over to the beds where you were tied up.

Dean raises the blade keeping Sam away from you, “Not gonna happen douche bag” the demon snaps, eyes turning black again. Sam slowly circles around, a knife in his hand. He is behind you, and you see Dean eyeing him with hatred. Sam must have moved his hand towards you because Dean takes a step forward, “Don’t try it.” He growls.

“Dean, please?” Sam pleads, and you can hear the sheer heartbreak in his voice. The demon just laughs, a terrifying bellow and you grimace at the sound.

“Oh Sam. You ignorant son of a bitch; you still think your brother’s in here?”

“Dean, I know you’re in there. Please, you’re my brother, this is not you.”

Dean just rolls his eyes, “You keep telling yourself that Sam” he says in a patronizing tone. Suddenly Sam pounces behind you, and you and the chair go flying to the floor with a hard thud, and you feel every muscle ache. You look up to see the two brother’s fighting; Sam trying to get a hit on his brother without getting pierced by the deadly blade. You suddenly realize that your hands are free; Sam must have sliced the rope as he pushed you to the ground. He was giving you a chance to escape. You quickly get up, before falling down again, your legs buckling under you from being unused. Fuck! You begin to crawl, as tingles go through your legs. You reach the door, able to crawl on your hands and knees now. Don’t look back. Don’t you dare look back.

But you have to, you need to see that the other hunter is okay. You look to see Dean poised over Sam, his boot over Sam’s throat. The blade is aloft in his arms as he looks at Sam with murderous fury. Suddenly there is a scream that surprises you, and your body jerks at the shrill sound. Your eyes widen as you realize that sound was you; screaming “don’t.”

Dean looks at you, annoyance and disgust etched on his face.

Before you can evaluate the weight of your words, they are out of your mouth, “Take me instead!”

“Instead? I’m killing both of you sweetheart, so what the hell are you proposing here?”

You can’t stop the words from pouring out of your mouth, “I’ll trade you. My soul for his life.”  Dean’s eyebrows raise, intrigued by your proposition. “I know you want to kill, but I know what you want even more. To torture someone so badly, to be so ruthless that they become like you, evil, angry, malicious. My soul is yours if you spare Sam’s life. My soul is yours to do with what you please.” Your breathing momentarily stops after you realize what you’ve just said. Why are you doing this? You were at the door…you were home free. Why did you turn around? Why do you give a fuck about this guy you knew ten years ago?

Because you’re a hunter, and you have a perpetual need to put others first. Even in the most dire situations, you view others’ lives as more valuable than your own. And Sam? You know he is a great hunter. If anyone deserved to live, it was him, because he would eventually get this bastard demon. If anyone had a chance at making the world better, it was Sam Winchester. You sigh with a shaky breath, tears forming in your already red and swollen eyes.

“Sounds like a deal” Dean replies, his voice husky and malevolent.

“No!” Sam yells at the top of his lungs. Dean punches him with inhuman force, knocking him out.

“That should keep him quiet for a while.” You can hear your blood rushing in your ears as Dean gets closer to you, pulling you up by your good arm. He’s so close you can feel his humid breath blanket your lips. “I can’t wait to see you as a demon my foolish ex-hunter.”

You release a pitiful whine, suddenly more terrified than you’ve ever been in your life. A demon? The thing you loathed most in your life.

“I thought I had to be in Hell for years and years before that happens?” you ask softly, confused and frightened.

“Ha! Ignorant slut” he snaps. “I’m more powerful than you can even imagine. I’ll pull a few strings work a little magic. You’ll be a demon in no time.”

You hang your head down, defeated. This is it.  “So when does this happen?”

“Right after I kill you” he says with a grin. “When you wake up, you’ll be seeing the world in a whole new way.” Your whole body begins to convulse as a sob from deep within your chest erupts. “There, there” he says with biting sarcasm. He brings you into his arms, teasingly sweet. You are so exhausted and the feeling of desolation is claiming your body, so you go along with it, resting your battered face on his chest. He’s surprisingly warm for such a cold blooded monster, and for a split second you feel almost comforted. He lifts your chin, kissing you heatedly, his tongue sliding all in your mouth. By this time your mouth is completely numb from all the abuse, and his kiss doesn’t really hurt. You let it happen, too tired to fight back anymore. Your will has been broken.

“See you in a bit” he whispers, and he plunges the blade into your heart. You cry out before falling on the floor. Your body goes into shock, and your vision begins to fade. The taste of blood fills your mouth and you feel liquid trail off of your lips. Then everything goes black.

 

Your eyes open and you’re instantly on edge. You feel an intense energy buzzing inside you, like it’s just under the surface of your skin. You feel agitated and angry, but powerful. Yes, mind numbingly powerful. You look at your surroundings as you sit up, noticing your body doesn’t feel right. It’s almost like your disconnected, like you’re wearing it. You’re in some motel room, different than the one you died in. Holy shit! You died, which means…you walk over to the mirror on the wall, and your eyes flick black. “Wow” you mutter to yourself. And yet you’re not sad, definitely not sad. In fact, you aren’t disturbed by this at all. You know you should be. You know that the old you would be sobbing or pacing around frantically. But nothing like that came to you. You notice that your face has completely healed. Your lips are fine, the goose egg on your head gone.

You feel constantly irritated, like there is a tinny noise that you can’t turn off, or an itch that won’t go away. You walk over to the kitchen, seeing a note on the table. It’s just a room number, signed with the letter ‘D’. You know it’s from Dean, and for some reason in doesn’t make your stomach flip in fear. It makes you smirk. You grab the door, breaking the door knob.  You just toss it behind you as you bust the door open, figuring the demon in you must have made you stronger. You walk along the corridors of the motel, searching for the scribbled room number. You see a 10 year old child in front of you, and that ‘itch’ you have seems to increase. You feel a sudden animosity towards the child, your muscles constricting. As he gets closer, you suddenly have the urge snap his neck. It would be so damn easy, you think to yourself. But he passes you by, the tinny noise in your head subsiding a bit as he walks away.

You didn’t spare his life for moral reasons. You decided to spare his life because you wanted your first kill to be really good. You wanted Dean to show you how to be a good demon; the best way to torture, the best way to cause pain. Hell, you wanted to learn how to possess and pop up wherever you wanted. Killing someone at this time seemed pointless, and a waste of undiscovered ability. You arrive at the room, and don’t bother knocking. You just knock the door off its hinges and enter. Dean is standing in front of you, and suddenly doesn’t look so menacing. Sure there is a dangerous air about him, but you’re drawn to it.

In fact, your feel a sinful lust boil about in your blood, mixed with hate and loathing. You study his broad shoulders, and that sultry pout permanently carved on his lips. You wonder how that stubble will feel on your lips, how that soft looking hair would feel on your fingers. “Hey fuckwad” you greet, your tone caustic.

The demon smirks at you, “What? You think now that you’re a demon manners just go out the window?” You roll your eyes before flipping them to black. You give him the finger before walking up to him with a braveness you’ve never felt before. You are inches away from him, standing toe to toe with your hands on your hips.

“So, are you gonna teach me to be the best mother fucking demon I can be? Or are you just gonna stand there like a useless little shit?”

“You’re a little cunt, you know that?” Dean snaps. “But it suits you babe” he growls seductively. That lust fires up again in your abdomen. “First lesson; give in to your urges. Those urges you wouldn’t dare to act on when you were a miserable human.” You lean in, staring into his bright green eyes.

 “Anything else?” you challenge. You feel yourself give a chuckle, but not out of joy. It’s spiteful and pompous.

“When you prove you’ve learned number one, then I’ll tell you the rest.” And he winks at you, giving a lascivious grin. Give into your urges?

“If you insist” you growl, and you grab him by the hair, pulling him down to meet your lips. He responds quickly, biting at your lips. You fight back, slipping your tongue in, trying to conquer his mouth. Your hands travel down his arms, gripping at his strong biceps. He spars back, the two of you battling for dominance. Your whole body feels as though it is on fire, and you need it. You need it so bad. You push him backwards, sending him flying a few feet as he hits the bed.

He seems unphased as you walk over, grabbing you by the waist and pinning you to the bed with bone breaking force. Yet it doesn’t hurt you. You know that you’re feeling pain, but it’s more of a hot sensation than an excruciating burn like when you were a human. You briefly wonder just how hard you’d have to be hit to truly experience pain again.  You grab his shirt, carelessly ripping it off of him and disposing of it on the ground.  You flip him over so you are straddling him and you lean down to greedily kiss and bite at his muscles. You become excited as you see the bite marks in his skin, accentuating his abs. He pulls violently at your hair, “Damn bitch” he growls. He pulls you up to meet his lips, and he sucks at your tongue pulling a little too hard. You moan loudly at the pure carnality of it all.

“Damn, that pretty little whore mouth does things to me.” He mutters, tugging at your earlobe.

“Shut up” you growl. More sexy, less talky! He rips your shirt off of your body as well, throwing it haphazardly. He sits up and shreds your bra with his fingers and teeth, getting it off of your body. He looks down at your chest, chuckling deeply as he sees his artwork. You look down and see bright white scars, surrounded by pink irritated skin. They spell out ‘Dean.’

“I knew that was a good idea.”

“I thought I told you to shut up you son of a bitch?” you snap, silencing him with your mouth smashing into his. He grabs greedily at your breasts, his calloused hands rubbing against your soft skin. But it feels good, so fucking good. You go for his pants, popping his button as you rip the fly of his jeans open. He bites at the crook of your neck, and you think you might be bleeding. He grabs you and swings your body onto the bed again, your head hitting the pillow. He shimmies out of his ripped jeans and boxers, revealing a huge, throbbing erection. You circle your hips in response, trying to entice him. He licks his lips and goes for your pants and underwear, dragging them off you quickly, the material rubbing against your skin, leaving red lines. You writhe around on the bed, needing him now.

You have never been this fucking horny before, and you need that thick cock in you. “Fuck me already” you yell at him, suddenly pissed that he is taking so long.

“Oh I will babe” he threatens, crawling in between your legs. “Ill fuck the shit out of you.” You stare deep into his night black eyes, willing him to put it in already. He lines up with your hole and slams in, splitting you wide open on the motel bed. You grab the headboard of the bed, gripping it till your knuckles go white. He moans erotically at being inside of you, and you clench your pussy around his dick. “That’s right, take it like a little slut. I wanna hear your screams” he growls.

You give a high, shrill moan, “Maybe I would scream if you went faster, asshole” You snap. “Jesus Christ, faster!” And he absolutely nails you, shifting your whole body back so that your head hits the headboard with a hard crack. “Fuck yes!” He sets on a pounding rhythm, completely wrecking you. You curl your legs around his waist, squeezing tightly till you see bruises peak from his skin. He bends down to kiss you again, biting at your tongue, and you fight back. Your teeth clash together as saliva gets everywhere.

You begin to feel it, your orgasm building up like a volcano, hot lava bubbling from the core till it overflows violently. He thrusts faster at a damaging pace, desperately trying to cum. Suddenly you release, your orgasm exploding forcefully around you and you scream out. Your vision goes black and all you can hear is your screams and his growls. He thrusts a few more times before he cums, hot seed spurting violently inside you, and you revel at the heat. He falls down on top of you, his body weight crushing and suffocating. You wait a few seconds to regain your composure before pushing him to the side. You lay on the bed, noticing that the annoying buzz has dissipated.

“Wow” you breathe.

“Not bad.” He turns to you and sensually licks your bottom lip before giving one last bite. He gets up, walking around naked. You study his ass, appreciating his well-crafted anatomy.

“So, douchebag” you begin, “did I pass lesson one or what?”

“B minus” he answers, giving a devious smile. You roll your eyes. “Get dressed bitch, you’ve got a lot to learn.”

You hop out of the bed, and walk over to your clothes, trying to see what is salvageable. This life is certainly different. All compassion and sensitivity is lost, and you can’t remember what if feels like. But you smirk to yourself, realizing that you don’t give a flying fuck. You’re not sure what to expect, but one thing’s for sure. You’re going to raise some Hell.

Chapter Text

You begin to pull on all your clothes, realizing that they are now filled with rips and holes. “Hey, asshole, you fucked up my favorite shirt.”

He turns to you, an annoyed look on his face. “Boo hoo for you bitch” he mutters, and you see that his shirt is ripped in two down the middle. Oops, you smirk to yourself.  He pulls on another shirt from a drawer, and you watch his muscles rip and flex as he stretches it over his head. He may be an arrogant dick, but damn he’s sexy.

“So what else are you planning on teaching me?” you ask impatiently, wanting to get this demon thing figured out.

“You need to learn how to travel” he states dryly. “But that won’t be hard, so once you understand that, I think you’re good to kill someone.”

You nod your head, surprised that the idea of killing someone doesn’t even make your stomach drop. “So are you gonna tell me how?” you prompt.

“So fucking impatient” he groans. “Okay, you just think of the place you want to go, visualize yourself being there, and then it happens” he says with a finger snap.

You look at him suspiciously, “Seriously, that’s it? No wonder your dumb ass can do it.”

Dean’s eyes flick to black, his jaw jutting out. “Just think of a place and will yourself to be there” he manages through gritted teeth. “Oh, and try not to be conspicuous okay? Angels and hunters are more common than you think, so keep a low profile.”

You stick your tongue out at him petulantly, pissed off that he doubts your abilities. “Fine. Any suggestions as to where I should go?” you ask, sass oozing at every word.

 “Up my ass and around the corner. I don’t give a shit, just practice!” he huffs. You jut your jaw out in defiance. You’ll show him. You think about the motel parking lot; easy and close. You close your eyes, and think of standing on the pavement. I want to go, you think, hoping that counts as ‘will yourself to be there’. Suddenly your stomach drops and you feel a strange tingle, like the kind when your foot falls asleep. You feel the sun’s heat on your body, and the smell of chlorine from the motel pool. You open up your eyes and see that it worked; you are standing in the middle of the parking lot. That was too easy, and you smirk to yourself until you notice that child from earlier is staring at you with his mouth open. Oh fuck, he saw you appear out of nowhere. You quickly think about the motel room and pop in to see Dean standing where you left him.

“Have a little issue?” Dean prompts, chuckling at your hasty retreat.

“How was I supposed to know a kid was gonna be there?” you respond with your hands on your hips.

He looks at you with disdain, “That’s why you don’t pick the middle of a parking lot, stupid! Go behind a car or in an alley way.”

Now you flick your eyes black, getting irritated with his tone, “At least I did it!” you yell.

“Until you got scared by a little child…B minus” Dean taunted, and you suddenly want to wipe that tantalizing grin off his face. You are not scared of anything! You walk over and punch him square in the mouth, knocking him back into a cabinet. “What the hell?!” he roars, suddenly looking murderous.

“You told me not to fight my urges” you explain, in your most sickeningly sweet voice. “I suddenly had the urge to pummel that deliciously pink bottom lip of yours.” And you give him the perkiest smile your black soul can muster. Dean stills for a few moments, processing how to handle your outburst. Surprisingly he chuckles darkly and gives you a forceful slow clap.

“That’s what I like to see. That animosity, that pure basic instinct to dispatch anything that stands in your way. Harness it!” He walks over to you and seductively traces the scars on your chest. “You need to be willing to use everything at your disposal. Manipulate, lie, use violence. The more you kill, and the more pathetic souls you torment: the stronger of a demon you will become.” He leans in to give you a heated kiss, pulling hard at your hair. His tongue invades your mouth, and you respond by giving it a warning bite. You quickly grab his lip, chewing and sucking, feeling your entire body tingle in lust. You break away and look into his green eyes.

“Sooooo” you draw out, waiting for his response.

“So I think you’re ready to raise a little Hell” he says with a devilish smirk.

 

The two of you arrive at a nearby suburb. Minivans line the streets as kids play on perfectly mowed lawns. The sun is setting behind some of the houses, casting long shadows as the giggles of children echo through the streets. It’s disgusting.

“Gag me” you mutter, turned off by all of the cheer. That annoying tinny sound returns and begins to build. You feel uncomfortable and fidgety. “Dean, I feel weird” you say irritably, every movement and sound coming from the neighborhood is like nails on a chalk board.

“That’s those urges I was telling you about. But don’t worry, we’re gonna take care of that” he responds, and he points to a large white house. “You see that house.”

“Hard not to, it looks like it should be in Better Homes and Gardens” you say with disgust. Dean eyes you, a glimmer of amusement on his face.

“Well in that house is a newlywed couple. They met on a mission trip; he’s a youth leader and she runs the nursery, Bible study, and outreach programs.”

“How fucking cute” you state dryly.

“Yeah, adorable. Anyway, I think you deserve a little playtime.” He takes you by the hand and leads you up to the house. “Just follow my lead” he mutters as he rings the doorbell. As you wait you study the large door, cherry wood, complete with a shiny brass knob and knocker. The door opens suddenly and a petite blonde at about 23 years old pokes out her head.

“Why hello” she says in a high voice. You control the desire to grimace, her bright smile making you want to spit.

“Hello!” Dean responds, sounding genuinely chipper. Your head jerks towards him, surprised by his tone. But he squeezes your hand tightly, warning you to play along.

You muster up your best smile and lie through your teeth. “We’re new in the neighborhood and wanted to meet some of the residents.”

The lady’s eyes light up, nearly sparkling. “Oh that’s just nice, please come in, come in, I’ll introduce you to my husband.” Your jaw drops open as she turns to lead you into the house. How naïve can people be?

“Brad! We have company! Oh follow me you two. I’m Janet Scott.”

“A pleasure to meet you” you respond, looking around the house. Everything is neatly organized, and lined with dark wood. All of the furniture is white or light pastels. “What a lovely home” you manage.

“Oh why thank you!” She responds, placing a hand over her heart. She leads you into the living room. It’s lined in white carpet, with an oak trimmed yellow sofa that Brad is sitting on. Different types of crosses are hung up in the room, ranging from wood to silver. There’s a grand piano and a curio cabinet filled with Precious Moments knick-knacks. He looks up from his book and gives a wide smile. The tall blonde man shakes Dean’s hand and then yours. You notice the tinny noise gets a bit shriller and you feel like clawing your eyes out of their sockets.

“Nice to meet you folks” Brad greets.  You and Dean grab a spot on the white love seat across from the couple. “So what do you do? Where are you from?”

“Wisconsin. I’m a CPA, and this lovely young lady is a housewife. Best little cook I’ve ever met.” Your nose crinkles in distaste as you try to feign a smile.

“Well I just love cooking for my hubby” you say sweetly. Dean responds by putting his hand on your thigh, and your entire lower half begins to tremble. You’ll have to take care of that particular urge later.

“Oh Janet, I just love how you’ve decorated this room” you say, trying to take your mind off of Dean’s hand.

“Thank you so much. I just love decorating, and I think the color scheme is so bright and cheery.”

“Oh it is” you respond, “but you know what dear” you say, turning to Dean as you rub his arm, “I think it would be nice with a little splash of…red.” Dean gives you a slight nod, and you know it’s time. You let your eyes flick to black, and the tinny noise is now blaring in your ears. “Blood red” you whisper menacingly to the couple.

Janet emits a gasp and Brad gets up, but before he can reach you Dean throws him and his wife into the glass curio cabinet. It shatters on top of them, shards scraping their hands.

“Alright, next lesson” Dean says calmly, “you need to learn how to control others. Move their bodies, snap their necks, the basics.” Brad starts to get up, his blood smearing the pristine carpet. “I wouldn’t try that if I were you” Dean warns, his deep voice nearly growling. Brad stills, his eyes wide with terror.

“Hurry up and teach me” you snap. You feel increasingly agitated, and you figure it’s your body knowing a kill is near.

“A please would be nice, bitch! Anyway, just think of energy flowing from your chest, push it out of your arm, and picture it making contact with the target.”

You nod your head, and you focus all your anger inward, feeling it bubble up inside you. A hot flame travels through you, and you will it to your fingertips. With a swipe of your hand you send Janet crashing into the wall, and you can hear her shoulder dislocate. She screams in pain as she crumbles to the floor.

“Not bad huh?” you ask, feeling smug.

Dean shrugs, “B minus.” You glare at him, but are distracted by Brad. He rushes to help her, and you send him flying back into the shattered cabinet.

“Sit your ass down Brad” you command. You turn to Dean, “So now what, asshole?”

“Like I told you, you little twat, it’s play time. Go nuts you little shit.” You feel your body buzz in anticipation.

“Get on the couch Brad” you command of him, watching as the man shakily gets up, his muscles probably sore.

“Why are you doing this?” He whispers as he sits on the couch, smearing some more blood around. He looks downward, afraid of meet your cold dark eyes. You pick up a large shard of glass and walk over till you’re mere inches form Brad.

“Because I can” you whisper, annunciating every syllable. You put the shard up to the man’s throat, scratching him lightly.

“Don’t be afraid to add a bit of pressure” Dean prompts, “it won’t slit his throat.”

You push your hand a little further on his neck, and you revel at the sight of bright blood slowly trickling down.

“Please don’t hurt him!” Janet cries, still sitting on the floor.

“Janet, you’re distracting me, and it’s very rude” you say calmly. “And when I get distracted, my hand gets a bit shaky. So if you don’t want your miserable fuck of a husband to get his throat slit, I suggest you shut the hell up.” Janet whimpers in response, tears streaming from her eyes.

“What are you?” Brad whispers, and you turn back to him. You lean in closely, nearly ghosting your lips over his.

“Little old me? I’m just a child of God, like us all.” And you plunge the glass into his thigh, hearing the flesh rip. He screams loudly, the sound sending excited shivers up your spine. “Oh so you’re a screamer?” you ask as you yank the shard out of him, earning a light sob from the man. “That’s hot.”

“You are a disgrace, an abomination!” He accuses, his voice shaking.

“Oh Brad, you have such a beautiful way with words” you mock as you drag the glass down his sternum, ripping his shirt. “Dean, why don’t you whisper sweet nothings like that in my ear?”

“Maybe because you’re a bit of a cunt” he answers, but you can hear a spark of pride in his voice.

“You know Janet, maybe I’ll have some fun with your husband here. He’s so handsome.” And you lean in to lick his bottom lip, and he emits a shocked gasp, his mouth quivering in fear.

“Get off him!” She screams, and she begins to shift, trying to stand. You plunge the knife in to his side, earning a groan of agony from the man. Janet freezes before slowly getting back down, sobs straining in her throat.

“Now Janet, look at what you made me do” you admonish, clucking your tongue. Dean steps in closer, standing right behind you, evaluating your every move.  “Now poor Brad is in excruciating pain because of your lack of social graces.” You hear Dean chuckle, and you smirk, knowing you’re doing a good job.

“The power of Christ compels you” Brad mutters weakly. You shake your head incredulously; the poor bastard has obviously seen to many movies.

“Oh you mewling little man, the only thing that is compelling me are all these damn crucifixes you have on the wall. Talk about tacky.” Dean gives a small mmm-hmm in agreement.

“The power of Christ compels you” he tries again.

“Now you’re just being annoying, so I would shut up before I shove one of them down your throat.”

“God will punish you. He is always watching, and you will suffer his fury.” You can’t help but scoff at the delusional man.

“There is no God” you say through gritted teeth, the tinny noise is nearly deafening now.

“Go to hell you black eyed bitch!” Janet shrieks, obviously offended by your comment. You quickly slash the glass across Brad’s throat, his blood spraying across the carpet, the couch, and you of course. It’s warm and you find that you’re not disgusted, but oddly content; for a demon that is. Janet lets out the most deafening scream you’ve ever heard and she runs at you full force. You swipe her away, a bored look plastered across your face as you pin her to the wall.

“Now Janet, I warned you. But you couldn’t keep your little whore mouth shut could you? Your voice is so distracting and annoying, poor Brad nearly lost his head.” You drop her and she collapses to the ground, too afraid to try and get up again. Brad is now leaning back against the couch, his eyes cold with death. You notice that the tinny noise has subsided a few decibels.

“I hope you rot in Hell” she whines softly, her body convulsing from her tears.

“Janet you have an eye for detail” you begin, ignoring her comment. “Can you tell me if this red compliments my skin tone? Because I think it does” you say as you look at your bloody hands. She doesn’t answer, and just continues to cry. You turn around to Dean who is now inches away from you, a dark glint in his eye. “Perhaps she needs a moment to compose herself?” you ask.

“You’re doing great you naughty little bitch” he whispers before fisting his hand in your hair. He pulls your body flush against his, and he kisses you deeply, moaning lewdly into your mouth. His hand immediately goes to your ass, giving a small slap. You feel is erection through his pants as he begins to grind at your crotch.

You break the kiss and see that his eyes have flicked to glossy onyx. “I’m glad you were enjoying the show. Kinky mother fucker aren’t you?” you taunt. You push him away, knowing that you have a job to finish. You turn towards Janet who is quivering against the wall.

“You heathens are living in sin! God will smite you. Disgusting demons!”

“Sticks and stones Janet.” You walk over towards her getting down on your knees to be at her level. “You see Janet, you are a pitiful pathetic excuse for a human being. There is no God watching you, and angels are too busy with their own problems to give a shit about some little Sunday School priss. So stop your pious, self-righteous ramblings and kindly shove them up your ass!”

“The Lord will punish you-“ and you flip your wrist, efficiently snapping her neck with a pleasing crack. He body lands on the carpet with a hard thud.

“I’m sorry were you saying something?” you ask sarcastically. You get up, a maniacal grin on your face when you realize the tinny noise, that irritating bothersome itch under your skin, has stopped. You feel like everything has been released. You stand up and walk over to Dean.

“Not bad” he states simply, surveying the damage you have done.

“Lemme guess, B minus?”

He gives you a lascivious grin, “A plus.”

“Hell yeah, that’s what I though fuckwad!” you say, letting your ego take over.

“Don’t get cocky” he snaps. “You’re still a whiny little bitch, with a cunty attitude, and a whore mouth.”

“Coming from an arrogant dick with bow legs and a nasty disposition.”

“Keep flirting like that at see what happens” he growls, his hand grasping your throat, nearly choking you. He bends down and kisses you roughly, your teeth clashing together.

“Oooo I’m shaking” you mock before punching him in the gut. You quickly disappear to the motel room, knowing he will be right behind you.

 

Chapter Text

“C’mon I know you can do this” he says sternly.

“What makes you so sure fucktard? I’ve never handled anything that big before” you snap. You have been a demon for about three weeks now, and have killed, possessed, and tortured numerous people around the country. But this? That was a lot of people to manage.

“Just go in the church, raise some hell, and leave no survivors. Don’t be a little bitch.”

“You just like seeing me kill because it turns you on” you say sarcastically.

“Damn right it does” Dean growls, slapping your ass. “Now think about it, you are powerful. You’ve already killed more people in three weeks than most demons do in a century. And you were smart enough to do it all across the country, throwing hunters off our trail. These are pathetic little humans, and you have endless capabilities.”

You nod in agreement, when he’s right he’s right. You start to realize that you are one of the most ruthless, vile, cold hearted demons to ever exist, and it makes you grin. The tinny noise returns and you have the itch to kill some people. Your ego begins to swell in your chest as Dean’s words echo through your mind, making you shiver. A warmth grows from deep in the pit of your stomach, an orb of energy expanding from deep within, traveling to every limb and appendage. Holy shit! You feel invincible, larger than life. Your head is swimming and you can’t stop the devilish smirk on your face.

You grab Dean and force him to your lips, greedily licking up every inch of his mouth. “Prepare to get a little hard.” You whisper, breaking the kiss and walking into the sanctuary.

“And lead us not in to temptation, but deliver us from evil-“ the congregation drones, about forty people in all. Dean walks in and takes the farthest back pew, ready to enjoy the show.

“Excuse me!” you yell, drawing all heads towards you. The congregation mumbles a bit, and the pastor eyes you suspiciously, confused by your outburst. “Evil has been delivered unto you” you state sweetly. With a flip of your wrist the doors lock, and you flip your eyes black, as excitement builds in your chest. You zap up to the front of the altar, and snap the pastor’s neck quickly, causing a panic from the congregation. They all run to the back of the church desperately trying to get the doors open. You can’t help but laugh, watching them all flee in terror. You swipe your hand and send a handful of them flying in all different directions.

It’s so easy to control them, and you get high on the idea that you hold their lives in your hands. You could crush them at any time, and you let a church goer fall from the rafters, hitting the stone floor with loud smack. You chuckle deviously as one tries to charge you, stupidly playing the hero. You grab him by the throat and lift him up in the air. You grip tightly as you watch the life exit, his eyes turning cold. This is what it feels like to be God. You fling his dead body behind you, reveling in the way his body knocks over the communion wine and bread. You walk down the aisle, a neck snap here, fling a woman like a ragdoll there. It’s intoxicating; you can do absolutely anything, and these miserable fucks are helpless to stop you.  Their screams create a beautiful harmony, high shrieks playing off of low sobs, and you realize; this is your symphony. You’re greatest creation.

You look over to Dean, and see him licking his lips at you, his green eyes fully dilated in carnal lust. He gives you a lascivious grin as he begins to palm himself through his jeans. Your pussy begins to quiver and you bite down on your bottom lip. You fling another person into the air, sending them flying into the baptismal font. Dean throws his head back, sliding his hand down his pants. With every kill you make, his moans grow louder. You fling your last victim out the window, noting that the high drop only leads to concrete. Dean is still in the back pew, reveling in the way you handled yourself. The tinny noise had subsided again, and you are left with a head held high and a warmth down low.

You walk over to him and he stands up to grab your waist with bruising force, pulling you flush against his body, and you feel his erection at your thigh.

“Enjoy the show much you sick perv?” you taunt, licking his bottom lip.

“More than you know you slimy evil bitch” He growls in a husky voice, sinking his teeth into your neck. You both leave the church and zap into the motel room. You turn away, ready to race toward the bed but stop dead in your tracks. A man is standing in front of you, dressed in a black suit, surveying you with an amused smile on his lips. He has dark eyes and dark hair, and for some reason he puts you on edge. For the first time since you changed into a demon, you are intimidated.

“Hello gorgeous” he greets in a sultry British accent. You’re eyebrows shoot up in surprise and you flick your eyes to black; who does he think he is?

“Crowley” Dean greets stiffly, his eyes full of suspicion.

“Squirrel” Crowley nods to Dean.

“I’m sorry but would you mind telling me who the fuck you are?” you snap, feeling out of the loop. Crowley walks closer to you, but you stand your ground. This allows him to get inches from you.

“You created quite a little spitfire didn’t you?” He directs to Dean.

“Hey asshole, I asked you a question.” You say irritably, putting your hands on your hips. Dean chuckles deeply, and you jerk your head towards him, a snarl on your face. Crowley puts his fingers under your chin, directing your head back to his dark gaze. Your body trembles at his touch, but you’re not sure if it’s in fear or anticipation.

“Darling, you really must learn some manners. The name’s Crowley.”

You give him an incredulous look, “So?”

Dean can hardly hide the amusement in his malevolent eyes. “He’s the King of Hell, stupid.”

Your eyes flick back to their natural color showing some humility. You hate this feeling, but realize what kind of power the King of Hell has; and it’s a turn on. Crowley gives you a devilish smirk, and you give Dean a malicious glare.

“You see squirrel” Crowley begins, “I heard promising things about the demon you created, and what a duo the two of you make. I just wanted to see this new addition to our devious black hearted family. But I didn’t expect such a sexy little monster of a woman.”

You feel a warmth pool in your stomach and you bite your lip seductively at him. “I didn’t expect the King of Hell to be so complimentary” you respond, your voice raspy with the sudden lust you are feeling.

“Oh love, only when compliments are truly deserved. But I will leave you two, seeing as I interrupted a bit of a steamy moment. I just wanted to see this demon prodigy for myself.” Prodigy? This man sure knew how to make your pride flare up; and your libido for that matter. You walk over to Dean and seductively tussle his hair.

“You know, you could join us. But fair warning, we like it rough.” Dean clears his throat and gives you pissed off side eye.

Crowley throws his head back, bellowing loudly. “Oh squirrel, I like her very much.” Dean just clenches his jaw, and you can feel his rage towards you radiating off of him. But you look to see his erection has grown again, betraying his true thoughts and desires.

Dean angrily throws you against the refrigerator, and you just smirk. You got him. He gropes your ass violently while he sucks at your neck. You pull his hair back, grabbing fistfuls. He growls at Crowley, “So you joining us or not.”

“I wouldn’t pass up a golden opportunity like this” Crowley whispers. He lifts his hand and you and Dean go flying onto the motel bed.  Crowley walks to the edge of the bed and towers over the two of you. “But I like to be in charge” he grins. The fuck? Nobody is in charge of you, and you feel a passionate anger rise up in your chest.

“Over my dead body asshole” you snap. Crowley crawls over to you on his hands and knees, hovering over your body.

“Now missy, I dig the bitchy vibe I really do. But you also need to learn who your superiors are. So you’re going to be a good little slut for me and Dean” he whispers dangerously.

 He places his hand over your throat, holding you down on the bed till you reluctantly and begrudgingly mutter, “Yes sir.”

“Now you stay down while I deal with Dean here.” Dean squirms in response, trying to hide his lust with a glare. He sits up and Crowley grabs him by the back of the neck, crashing their lips together violently. Dean moans loudly in response, digging his strong fingers into Crowley’s arms. Your anger subsides as your breathing becomes labored and hot from the erotic scene in front of you. You watch the two men battle for dominance; Dean’s teeth grabbing anything he can, sucking wildly. Crowley drifts his hands to Dean’s sweet ass, groping greedily.

You writhe on the bed, your lower half screaming in need. You slip your fingers down your pants, playing with your clit as you watch the two men ravenously undress the other. You begin to moan at your own touch, and your body trembles when the two men become naked. Dean eyes you as he grinds his long length against Crowley’s thick cock.

“I think this little whore has too many clothes on” Dean whispers in Crowley’s ear, biting his earlobe.

Crowley snaps his fingers and your clothes are gone, and he eyes your naked frame. “Impressive” Crowley mutters approvingly. “Get over here.” You comply, getting on your knees between the men. You can’t help but slap Crowley’s ass, proving that you’re not a perfect little sub. Dean kisses you heatedly, turned on by your defiance. You moan in pleasure, turned on by Crowley’s lustful gaze at the two of you. Crowley pulls you away, gripping your shoulders. Dean gives bites to your shoulder blades, grinding his erection at your ass.

“What is this?” He asks amused, sensually fingering your scars. “Classy Dean, really” he mumbles sarcastically, and you feel Dean grin against your back, proud of his branding.

“I wanna feel her little whore mouth around my cock” Dean growls, raking his teeth across your back. Crowley gives you a lewd kiss, pushing his tongue to the back of your throat.  He then spins you and pushes your head down, your face smacking against Dean’s cock. You greedily take his whole cock in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks forcefully. Dean hisses at the sensation, his nails scratching along your skin. Crowley kneels behind you and slips two fingers into your pussy, moaning at how wet you are.

“She’s a ready little thing” he praises, scissoring you. You groan loudly, and Dean takes the opportunity to thrust into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You gag a little before sheathing your teeth, reminding Dean of what you’re capable of. It earns you a stinging slap on the ass from Crowley. You begin to bob your head around Dean’s dick, and he threads his fingers in your hair, holding on tightly as he bucks into your mouth. Crowley pulsates his fingers rapidly, expanding your walls and causing your hips to move erratically. His other hand is gripping your waist with bruising force, creating a brand of his own.

Crowley removes his fingers and you whine at the loss before screaming in pleasure as he replaces them with his thick cock. He sinks in, filling you up fully as he goes balls deep. Dean pushes you back so you and Crowley are sitting up, and you are straddling the King of Hell’s lap. Crowley grabs your hips, and begins to bounce you, lifting you up and down on his erection, splitting you wide open. Dean is kneeling in front of you, capturing your face in his large hands. He overtakes your mouth, attacking every inch with his tongue. Your hand travels down to his member, still wet with your spit. You pump rapidly with one hand as your thumb swipes over the slit, sending tingling sensations throughout the demon’s entire body. He groans loudly and you take the chance to get the upper hand and slide your tongue in his mouth. Your other hand is fisted in his hair, keeping his face close.

Crowley begins to pound you, slamming into you and you feel the delicious and painful burn of him hitting your sweet spot. Your pussy clenches around him and he throws his head back, gripping you even tighter. You all are building, pleasure coursing through your veins as you reach higher and higher, your breaths becoming frantic. Dean cums first, violently spraying his seed over your breasts. Crowley follows and then you. You spiral down from your ecstasy as he fills you up with his hot cum. Crowley gives a few more languid thrusts as Dean seductively licks your sensitive breasts clean, causing shivers to run down your spine. His tongue teases at your nipples before giving a few stinging tugs.

Crowley pulls out of you and you flop on the bed, trying to regain your composure. “Well, well, my pet” he begins, and he snaps his black suit back on, “I’m impressed.”

“B minus” Dean mutters in your ear, and you punch him hard in the gut. Crowley just shakes his head at the two of you.

“I look forward to checking up on your progress.” And with that he vanishes, leaving you and Dean panting naked on the bed.

“You scream like such a little slut” he taunts.

“I least I wasn’t the first one to cum” you snap, and he gives you a murderous look, his eyes flicking to black.

“Oh fuck you bitch.”

“You wish” you respond flicking your eyes black in defiance. He rolls of the bed to find some clothes, pissed off at you. You just smirk to yourself, proud of the day you’ve had.

Chapter Text

“You know what really pisses me off?” you state irritably.

“Well, I’m sure you’re gonna tell me anyway.” Dean snaps. The two of you are getting dressed after a little fun time, meaning you broke the headboard…again.

“Human weakness. They are so pitiful and pathetic. This weird and disgusting loyalty they feel towards each other, their inability to do what they need because of their measly feelings. It’s fucking deplorable.” You look in the mirror, checking your hair and makeup. Being a demon has made you more superficial than you were as a human; must be the whole lusty urges thing.

“Well yeah, it’s because they believe in the whole love crap. But it doesn’t exist and their delusional minds refuse to accept it.” He agrees. “When did you think about this?” he questions.

“About three minutes into you fucking me.” You state dryly, and he gives you a punishing slap on the ass. “I was thinking how I wouldn’t be here riding your horse cock, and you wouldn’t be here destroying my pussy if it wasn’t for your brother’s weaknesses.”

Dean grabs hold of your throat, his eyes flicking to menacing black. “That miserable fuck is not my brother.”

“Fine, fine, asshole” you say, shoving him off of you. “All I’m saying is that Sam Winchester was too much of a pansy ass to kill you when he had the chance. He was so concerned with saving both of us that he just made it worse. If we had both died that night, that little shit would have saved hundreds of ‘precious’ lives’” you say sarcastically. “It’s completely pathetic, and frankly I think he needs to be taught a lesson.”

“You want to go see Sam Winchester? Why is this bothering you? Just kill some more people, like you said, they are all weak.”

“It’s bothering me, you idiot, because it’s a waste of potential. I hate him with every fiber of my being, but he is a gifted hunter. Imagine what he could do if he would just man up. Imagine the kind of ruthless killer he could be.”

“The only reason I would go seek out that son of a bitch would be to kill him” he growls. “And your little deal you made keeps me from being able to do that!” He roars.

“Look” you says sternly, getting inches from his face. “I don’t need your god damn permission.” He glares at you, mouth nearly snarling. You ghost your lips on his, “I just thought you might like to see me have a little fun with the Winchester” you whisper seductively. You let your hand slide up his thigh, nearly grabbing his crotch. “You know, throw him around a bit…make him bleed?”  You lewdly lick up his cheek, and when his hands go to cup your breasts, you know you have him. He bites your bottom lip, sucking it until it is puffy, and you give a wanton whine.

“Fine” he agrees begrudgingly. “You’re such a filthy cunt sometimes” he snaps.

You slap his ass, “You like it you disgusting perv. Now let’s go.”

 

The two of you zap to the Men of Letters Bunker and enter through the door. You find Sam sitting at the long wooden table. “Holy Fuck!” he yells, seeing Dean and he jolts up, his hand going for his blade that you know he won’t use.

“Calm down you overzealous fuck” Dean says irritably, Sam’s presence already grating on his nerves. “I’m just here for the show” and he grabs a chair, throwing his feet up on the table.

Sam turns to you and his eyes widen, “Oh my God” he whispers in shock.

“Surprised Sammy?” you greet dangerously, a malicious smile spread on your face. Before he can answer you fling him into a nearby book case, spilling books and artifacts all over the floor. You hear Dean chuckle malevolently behind you, probably already getting a semi. You fling the hunter against the wall, pinning him there, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground.

Your body shivers as you watch his blood trickle down his face from his forehead. “(Y/N), I don’t- what?”

“Oh, don’t you remember Sam. I let Dean take my soul and do with it what he wanted, in exchange for your worthless miserable life.”

“(Y/N) I know you’re in there, please listen to me. Dean! This isn’t you man!” Dean just leans his head back, aggravated that Sam is trying to connect with him.

“Oh shut the fuck up Sam” you snap, getting a little annoyed with his emotions. “I’m here to have some fun with you” you say sweetly, “and perhaps teach you a lesson or two?”

“I see you’ve embraced the demon life” Sam spits, getting angry.

“It suits my style, Sam. And I suppose I have you to thank.” Sam clenches his jaw, narrowing his eyes.

“Excuse me?” he says menacingly, his tone causing a warmth to light up in your stomach.

“Oh Sam, if you weren’t such a damn sissy, I wouldn’t be a demon and hundreds of people would still be alive.”

“What the Hell are you talking about?” You get your blade and drag it across his throat with a sting, creating a light trail of blood. You can hear Dean moan slightly behind you.

“You should have killed Dean that night, but you couldn’t. Because in your naïve mind, you truly believe a righteous man is still in there.”

“That’s my brother. And you, my old friend, are still in there. Even if it is deep down” he states bitterly. You give Sam a punch to the face, and you think you hear a tooth crack. He cries out in pain as Dean mumbles ‘oh fuck baby.’

“No Sam, I’m not.  You’re just too much of a pussy to admit it!” You scream, the recurring tinny noise enraging you. “So here’s what we’re gonna do” you explain through gritted teeth. Your patience is wearing thinner than you thought it would. “I’m gonna torture you, punishment for your actions and all that. Also because I like it when that demon over there gets horny. And then I’m gonna give you the chance to show you’re not entirely pathetic. To show that you can be ruthless.”

You take your knife and rip Sam’s shirt, cutting it down the middle to expose his chiseled body. You dip your head down to trace his abs with your tongue, feeling the deep grooves and crevices. His nose wrinkles in disgust, and you see Dean eyeing you suspiciously.

“What can I say boys, the Winchester has one hell of a sexy meat suit.” You take your blade and stab it in his side, and he throws his head back against the wall in agony. You here Dean’s breath hitch at your forcefulness. Sam is biting his lip hard, suppressing a scream. You twist the knife inside of him, making sure that you don’t hit anything vital. You don’t want him dead; at least not today.

You leave the knife there for now, and give Sam another punch to the face. Dean’s breathing is getting a little more labored, turned on by your torturous display. Sam spits at you, blood from his mouth splattering on your face.

“Charming” you say sarcastically. You reach up and pull his hair, yanking his head forward. He groans at the tug, and a few strands come out in your hand.

“You fucking bitch” he mutters. You smirk to yourself, seeing that his resolve is crumbling. You can see it in his eyes, he wants to hurt you. You pull the knife out of his side, tearing flesh.

You hold the knife in front of his face, and drag it across his cheek. “You see Sam, maybe if you were a little more ruthless, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Maybe I would be the one being tortured.” You bring the knife to his chest, dragging it over his hard muscles. You set on a path, the knife moving easily in your hand, creating beautiful red blood trails. Sam is yelling now, feeling the sting of your blade.

“Oh babe, you naughty bitch” Dean moans, palming himself through his jeans. Your body shivers, knowing Dean is watching and appreciating your every move. You give one last swipe and step back to admire your work. “Oh fuck” Dean breathes. You carved your name into Sam’s chest; it probably won’t scar the way yours did, but it gets the point across.

“What can I say, I had a decent teacher.” Sam’s head is hung low, exhausted from the pain. You release him from the wall, and he falls gracelessly to the floor. He rises quickly though, rage heating up his eyes. You swipe your hand sending him to the left, and then the right; flinging him like a ragdoll. You hear the distinct unzipping of Dean’s jeans as he begins to lazily jerk himself off at your demonstration of power. His hips begin to buck erratically, and you have to tear your gaze away from the erotic scene and focus on Sam. He gets up again, charging you. You dodge his punches, jumping out of the way.

Sam grabs some Holy Water you didn’t notice before and splashes you. You writhe in agony, stumbling back. It’s purifying and burns deep inside you, like adding bleach to an open wound. Dean zips himself up and is suddenly at your side, his blade aloft in his hand.  “Stay away from her!” he roars, but you put your hand on his arm, letting him know you have everything under control. Sam lunges again and you kick him in the groin. He falters a bit, but it doesn’t stop him.

“That’s it Sam. You’re finally seeing me as a demon. You’re learning what should be destroyed.”

He swings at you, his blade cutting your side. It stings but you attempt to ignore it.

“You know, I wanted to believe you were still in there, but I guess I’m wrong” he yells, the hurt evident in his voice. You smirk at him, flicking your eyes black.

“Ya think?” He throws you to the ground and gets on top of you, straddling your waist. His blade is held high above his head as he prepares to plunge it in. You see the humanity fade, and his eyes become murderous. You begin to laugh maniacally, “Lesson learned huh Sam?” He brings the blade down, but you zap away, arriving at the motel room, Dean arriving quickly behind.

He grabs your waist, spinning you to face him. He kisses you deeply, sending fire all through your veins. You moan loudly and you feel him grin against your mouth. “You are so sexy” he growls in your ear.

“Glad you enjoyed it” you breathe, gripping his biceps.

“I can guarantee one thing you conniving slut…Sam Winchester won’t make the same mistakes again.” And he picks you up and carries you to the bed; for the second time today.

 

 

Chapter Text

The two of you arrive back to the motel, and you have a pleased smirk on your face. Not only did you destroy an innocent family, but you tortured and killed the hunter trying to protect them.

“Well I call that a success” you boast, turning to Dean. He rolls his eyes at you and crosses his arms.

“Yeah, whatever” he snaps.

“What the hell is your problem?” you ask, confused by his attitude. “Usually by this time you’d be fucking my brains out on the motel bed” you say seductively, grabbing the edges of his jacket collar. He grips your wrists tightly and forces them down to your side.

“You’re my problem” he mutters, refusing to look at you. You narrow your eyes; Dean was an asshole, but he’s never seemed to resent you.

“What? Do I suddenly annoy you now or something? News flash douche bag, you fucking created me, and taught me everything I know.” You’re seriously pissed, how dare he? You’re almost…hurt? You shake the thought form your mind, that’s bullshit.

“You’re reckless, you know that? That hunter almost killed you.”

“Dean, we’re demons. Hunters are gonna try to kill us, that’s kind of in the job description.”

“But you don’t seem to grasp that you could die” he snaps.

“What the fuck does it matter to you what happens to me?”

Dean releases a guttural growl, clenching his jaw tightly. He ignores your comment, “And do you have to flirt with every damn male you come across?” He roars, getting in your face.

Your eyes widen in shock, confused by his outbursts. “I do it cuz it’s fun and I like to see them squirm. Last I check I’m allowed to flirt with anyone I want. And besides, it’s not like I’d actually do anything with a pathetic human” you say with disgust.

“And all the demons you’ve met? What about them?” He challenges through gritted teeth.

“Last I checked,” you begin defensively, “You were the only demon I’ve slept with…well besides Crowley. So I think some of them are sexy, who cares?” Dean holds his angry gaze, his green eyes cold and calculating. “So you want to tell me what’s really going on here” you mutter, feeling your hands fist out of rage.

“Look, I just don’t want to see your ass get wasted because you got a little too close to a hunter or made a stupid mistake.”

“Why do you care? If something happens to me you’ll be fine. Just make another demon. And who cares if I wanna swap spit with someone else-“ you pause, your jaw nearly dropping. “You’re jealous” you whisper.

Dean snaps his head towards you, his eyes murderous, but he says nothing. You tentively place a hand on his shoulder, unsure how to handle this. It’s been a while since you had to think about feelings other than lust, pleasure, and murderous rage. He stiffens under your touch, but doesn’t move. “Why on earth would you be jealous?”

“I just get pissed seeing you with someone else ok? I made you! You’re mine!”

“Well no shit Sherlock” you say sarcastically giving him a forceful push. “Do you see my fucking chest? I’m pretty sure you’ve made it clear to me and everyone we meet that you’ve claimed me.” Your voice is shrill, annoyed with his stupidity.

“That doesn’t mean shit and you know it. You can walk out any god damn time you wanted.”

“No I can’t!” you challenge, “and you want to know why” you whisper dangerously. Your chest is constricting and you aren’t sure what is happening. Your head feels a bit dizzy, and you realize you don’t want to explore this topic any further. And yet, you feel the need to get it out of your system, whatever this is.

“Why?” he says petulantly.

“Because I’d be lost without you!” you blurt out, freezing up at your words. Dean’s glare disappears and he just stares at you poker faced. He’s trying to evaluate how to handle this; the same way you are. This is the most emotion you’ve had in a month, and it makes you exceedingly uncomfortable. You eventually break the silence. “So there asshole you happy? I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t want to torture innocent people without your stupid ass. I think the only reason I am so successful at this is because you made me and were there with me” you sate dryly, attempting to be devoid of any pathetic emotions that might bubble up.

“Well” he says sternly, “I’ve come to the conclusion that seeing your whore mouth get near anyone else enrages me. And the idea that you might die and I’d have to spend the rest of my time without your whiny bitchiness is unpleasant to me.” He says forcefully, finding it hard to meet your gaze again.

“Well fuck” you state. “What, do you want to be a couple or something?” you spit, the idea of being lovey dovey making your skin itch.

“Like hold hands, go on dates, cuddle” he says nearly gagging, “fuck that shit.”

“Then what are you proposing here?”

“Marry me” he growls, grabbing you by the shoulders, pulling you close. Your breath hitches, alarmed by his words, but turned on by his proximity.

“You mean a fucking white wedding with a sickeningly adorable flower girl?” you scoff, “I’ll pass” you state with an eye roll.

“No you idiotic cunt. It’s rare, but from time to time, demons bind themselves to each other. Think of it as an eternal partnership. You will be all mine. Just you and me alone.” You search his eyes, trying to see if he’s being serious. Dean could be a dick, but you don’t think he would tease about this.

“I- I don’t..I think” you stammer, your skin crawling, but not necessarily in a bad way.

“For once can you not be a little shit? It’s a simple yes or no question babe.”

“Yes!” you snap. “Holy shit, yes” you whisper.

Dean gives you a lascivious grin and licks his lips. He grabs you hair and pulls you in for a slow erotic kiss, his lips feeling like fire on yours. His tongue pushes in and you grab it with your teeth, sucking it loudly. “Oh you little slut” he moans into your mouth.

“Your little slut” you breathe, and it’s more of a confession than dirty talk.

You’re about to grab his crotch, wanting to feel that erection, when you sense a presence behind you. You turn to see the King of Hell, standing in his black suit.

“Crowley” you greet bitterly. He was interrupting your kinky fun time.

“Hello lovey. Squirrel.” He greets. Dean just rolls his eyes. “So the two of you are getting hitched?”

“What’s it to ya?” you snap. “How did you even know?” Crowley just emits a deep chuckle, shaking his head.

“Oh darling, I’m always watching.”

Dean clears his throat, “The ritual has to be performed by the Ruler of Hell.”

“Even if we had a threesome with him?” You turn to look at Crowley who smirks at you, nodding his head. “Kinky” you state approvingly.

“So, are we ready or not?” Crowley asks, a bit impatiently. “I have a very busy schedule and frankly a marriage is not at the top of the list.”

“We’re ready” Dean states gruffly.

Crowley snaps his fingers, changing you and Dean’s clothes. Dean stands before you in a black tux, looking good enough to eat. “For a pervy demon you clean up nice” you taunt.

“I could say the same about you” he challenges back, hungrily looking at you. Crowley had zapped you into a tight, black leather dress, accentuating all your features in just the right way.

“Okay so first thing’s first. You need to know what you’re getting into” Crowley begins, treating it like a business deal. “After the ritual, the two of you will be bound in eternity. That means if you decide to shag someone other than each other, you’ll die. If one of you gets killed, the other will also die. Are you both ready to accept that kind of bonding commitment?”

You look at Dean, flicking your eyes to black, “Dean knows how much I love bondage.” Dean bites his lip at you giving a mischievous wink. You aren’t worried. You both are excellent demons and the odds of one of you getting ganked were miniscule. And besides, it wouldn’t be fun anymore without Dean egging you on. And the sleeping with other people thing? Why on Earth would you fuck around with some other demon or a disgusting human when you had Dean Winchester? The sexiest, most ruthless demon in existence.

“Give me your hands” Crowley commands, and the two of you put a hand in front of Crowley. He cuts a deep gash on your palm, the blade stinging slightly. He does the same to Dean, blood dripping from his hand onto the carpet. He takes your hands, pressing yours firmly to Dean’s. “With this action, the two of you now each have the other’s blood coursing through you. You two will now be more powerful together than apart, like forming a single dark, demented soul.”

“How romantic” Dean comments sarcastically, earning a smirk from you. Crowley snaps his fingers, healing your hands back up, but leaving a scar.

“Another to add to the collection” you state, eyeing it appreciatively.

“All right, now all we need is oral confirmation. Do you?”

“Hell yeah” Dean states, flicking his eyes black. It makes your lower half turn to absolute fire.

“And you?” Crowley asks.

“Why not” you say nonchalantly. This was getting a bit emotional.

“Well congratulations. Have fun in unholy bondage. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some important issues to attend to” and he zaps away.

Dean begins to say something, but you lunge at him, jumping in his arms. He holds your ass, groping roughly as you wrap your legs around his waist. You invade his mouth with your tongue, claiming him. “Well asshole” you begin, kissing his jaw, “you’re all mine.”

He gives a slap to your ass, and goes in to kiss your neck, “Nice try bitch, I think you’re mine.” He carries you over to the bed before flinging you on to it. He gazes at you, biting his bottom lip. You can see his green eyes submit to his dilating pupils, filled with lust.

“So are you gonna stand there like a dumb ass or are you gonna fuck me?” you prompt, needing the demon inside you like 10 minutes ago. He rips off his clothes, disposing of the suit at lightning speed. You stare greedily at his large cock, fully erect. He crawls over to you, making sure to flex every muscle. You shiver in anticipation, your pussy already dripping wet. You claw at your dress, unzipping it and then shimmying out of it. You throw it over Dean’s head and it hits his pile of clothes on the floor.

You bring his face to yours, clashing your teeth with his. Your hand flies to his dick, and you begin to pump, squeezing tightly till his hips are bucking at you. “Put this in me now!” you hiss, desire overcoming every thought and fiber you possess. 

“You are such a sexy whore” he breathes. He hoists you up into his lap and you straddle him. He grips your waist tightly and you circle your hips, enticing him. He pulls you down onto his dick, penetrating you. He instantly hits your sweet spot and you scream loudly, throwing you head back in pure ecstasy. He guides your hips roughly, his biceps bulging. “So fucking tight” he growls, and his mouth attacks your breasts, sucking at your nipples and leaving bruising marks. He slaps your ass hard, and you grip his hair in response.

He is pounding in to you, and your nails are leaving deep scratches on his back, ruining his smooth skin. “Oh fuck yes” you moan as he fills you up over and over, slamming into you. The sound of your slapping skin echoes loudly throughout the room.

“You’re all mine” he whispers in your ear, his voice dangerous. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you.”

“Yeah babe. And you’re mine. You love the feeling of my tight pussy around your cock.” Dean moans, biting down on your neck.

His pace is absolutely destroying you. “Cum for me, you naughty bitch” he commands, his voice nearly a roar.

“Make me” you challenge. His eyes go black, and he gives you a sinister grin that nearly makes you combust. He slams into you again, rolling his hips, twisting and turning inside of you. He pushes as far as he can into you, deliciously burning your walls. You cum violently, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. Your whole body is charged with electric energy, and you are blinded for a moment. He thrusts up, spilling his cum inside you, steamy and hot. The two of you stay there, embracing each other’s glistening bodies, panting as you try to recover from your release.

“I could live with that for all of eternity” Dean comments, his voice husky.

You look into his eyes, and give a bitchy smirk. “B minus” you whisper. He just rolls his eyes at you, deciding to let it go. Oh yes; eternity was going to be fun as Hell.

Chapter Text

“You know it’s really distracting when you grab my ass while I sharpen my knife” Dean mutters, only half serious.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t have such a sweet ass I could leave it alone” you retort, giving him a hard slap. Things had been going well. It’s been about a month since the two of you got ‘married’ and you were still name calling, at each other’s throats, and fucking so violently that furniture broke; it was going splendidly.

Dean growls at you, but you see a mischievous smile betray his face. He’s in a good mood for a demon. The two of you just terrorized a youth group, and did rather questionable things with the youth pastor’s body. You grab his jacket collar, dragging him towards you.

“Come here you, I wanna feel that cock in my pussy” you whisper seductively, flicking your eyes to black to show that you mean business.

“I can’t say no to such a naughty little bitch” he says in a husky voice, letting you lead him over to the beds. You try to get closer, but it’s like your slamming up against an invisible wall. “Dean?” you whisper, a bit alarmed. Dean’s eyes widen and he looks down, a devil’s trap had been burned into the carpet.

“Fuck!” he roars, his eyes scanning the dark room. It was late, and neither of you had seen the devil’s trap in the darkness. You here a rustle behind you and turn to see Sam Winchester emerge from the bathroom where he was hiding.

“Sam!” you say bitterly, the name leaving a foul taste in your mouth. Sam nods, not saying anything. His jaw is clenched in concentration, and you notice he is holding something behind his back.

“What the hell are you doing here you son of a bitch?” Dean snaps, his eyes coal black with rage.

“I’m here for her, Dean” Sam explains quietly. Dean tightens his grip on you, pulling you close to him.

“Over. My. Dead. Body.” He spits, challenging the taller man. Sam averts his eyes from Dean’s glare, and you can tell that deep down, he wants to believe his brother is still in there.

“Look Dean, I-I’ve given up on you” you think you can see a tear threaten in the hunter’s eyes, “but (Y/N)? I think she can be cured.” You feel Dean tense around you, anger radiating off of his body.

“Listen here you prick. You lay a god damn finger on her and I’ll-“

“What?” Sam shouts, his voice nearly cracking. “You can’t kill me Dean, you made a deal.”

“How do you even think you’re gonna cure me, asshole?” you ask petulantly, crossing your arms. You’re desperately hoping that he can’t see how freaked out you are.

Sam produces a syringe full of red liquid, and you feel your eyes widen in fear and confusion.

“Dean? What the fuck is that?” you whisper, your breathing becoming shallow.

“It’s purified human blood. He’s gonna try to inject you with it” he says through gritted teeth. You instinctually back up as much as you can from the hunter, your skin crawling in anger and uneasiness.

“Stop acting like you give two shits about her” Sam snaps. “You can just make another demon whore.” Dean charges to the side of the circle, getting as close in Sam’s face as possible.

Sam looks at Dean incredulously, “Oh my god, do you have feelings for her or something?”

“We’re bonded for eternity you dick!” you snap, the tinny noise ringing loud in your ears.

Sam just gives a small laugh, “Cute. But this isn’t what you want. I know I can cure you, (Y/n).”

“Maybe I don’t want to be cured, you ever think of that? You narrow minded humans always think you know everything. You think that you’re so god damn superior, but you are nothing! Just a pathetic waste of skin!”

Sam punches you hard, bruising your cheek bone. Dean catches your body and gives Sam the most murderous eyes you’ve ever seen. Sam manages to push Dean off of you, capturing you at the edge of the trap. His deadly blade is pressed up against your throat.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen” he begins calmly. “I want to cure her, but I have no problem killing her either.” Your eyes shoot up in shock. If he kills you, Dean dies too. “So you’re gonna let me take her out of this Devil’s trap and then fix it behind her. One move from you, and she gets a quick plunge in the heart.”

The presence of the knife puts your body on edge, and you think you can feel the knife nearly burn your skin. He brings you down on your knees as he cuts a way at a piece of the burned on Devil’s trap. Once he has you on the other side, he sears it closed again with his lighter. Your eyes are on Dean the whole time, and he looks angry, disgusted, and lost. Lost at the idea of losing you, his companion…his lover.

You want to fight back, turn on Sam and really let him have it. But you restrain yourself for Dean. For some reason the idea of causing his death is so deplorable that you don’t dare risk it. He brings you over to a chair, pushing you forcefully to sit. His blade is still at your throat, and you’re scared to even swallow. He produces the syringe and sticks it in to your neck, you wince slightly at the prick of the needle. “We’re gonna have to do this a lot over the next few hours.” Sam says calmly. Dean is pacing around the trap like a caged animal, ready to strike at any given opportunity.

Sam injects the liquid in your neck, and you scream loudly. It mixes with your blood, feeling as though it is boiling under your skin. You throw your head back, writhing in agony at the blood elixir.

“Stop” Dean bellows, hair standing up at the back of his neck.

“This needs to be done Dean” Sam says, not willing to look at either of you in the eyes.

“Babe, fight back! Show this bastard what you’re made of.”

“I can’t” you whisper, your head throbbing from the odd high the blood is giving you.

You see Dean’s eyes widen as he figures it out. You’re doing this for him. You’re doing this so that he can live, even if you can never be together. You don’t want to risk getting killed, because then he will cease to live as well.

“Listen to me” he shouts over your screams and whimpers. “I don’t want to do any of this without you. If you turn into a human, you might as well just send me back to hell for the rest of my life.” Dean’s eyes are serious, and you can see a slight frown threatening his lips. He looks…distraught.

Your chest constricts and your body seems to swell. You have to fight this. If you die, at least you die together. And no Sam-fucking-Winchester is going to get between your eternal life with your demon. You push through the haze, fighting the effects of the blood and you punch Sam in the chest sending him sailing into the wall. You stagger as you get up off the chair, trying to keep your balance. Sam comes charging at you, blade in hand. You muster up all the strength you can and with a swipe of your wrist you send him over the kitchen table, breaking a chair. You stumble over and put your neck over his throat before he can get back up again.

“You just don’t know when tou give up, do you Sam?”

“Trust me, someday I’ll be back. The angels aren’t going to let me stay dead, and you are going to suffer.”

You get down on your knees holding his head in your hands. “I’ll take my chances” you whisper dangerously, and you snap his neck, feeling bone break underneath your fingers. His head falls hard on the floor, smacking the linoleum tile. You suddenly feel very overwhelmed and your body begins to shake slightly.

“Dean?” you call out weakly.

“I’m here, get me out of this damn thing so I can take care of you.” You crawl over to the trap, lazily cutting at the carpet till you break the circle. Dean rushes forward holding you in his strong arms. Your body begins to convulse and he sits down on the bed, squeezing you to his body.

“For a little bitch, you did great” he tries to tease, but you can tell his voice isn’t in it. You feel nauseas and uneasy, and you think you’re sweating.

“Wh-what’s happening to me?”

“Human blood is strong stuff, and your body isn’t reacting well. But you’re gonna be okay, I promise.” And he gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.

“Don’t go soft on me you pussy” you snap lightly, earning a devious smirk from your demon.

“I wouldn’t dream of it you little cunt.” He retorts. You both remain silent for the rest of the night as he holds you through your convulsions and cold sweats. Nothing needs to be said. Sam is gone. You both are safe. And deep down you know, it’s you and Dean forever; the only way you want it to be.