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phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: The Demons Winchester, Part 1 (Prologue)
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: John/Mary, Dean/OFC, John/OFC, John/Dean, Dean/Sam, Sam/OMC(s), Dean/OMC(s), John/Dean/Sam, Bobby, Caleb (Total story)
Word Count: ~20,000 (total story)
Summary: What if? What if John and Mary were possessed? What would Dean and Sam be? How evil would Demon Winchesters be? Several nights before their wedding, John and Mary are taken by a pair of demon lovers. The next few years are much the same as canon...until their demon master comes looking for them, and takes Mary, sending John and the boys on the run.
A/Ns & Warnings: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
johnsgillygirl who won me and paid an enormous sum of money for the privilege during the March special auction over at Sweet Charity. She wanted 20,000 words of Demon boys...(I'm looking for one or two high quality caps of the scenes in "Dream a Little Dream" when double!Dean had black eyes...or for someone who reads this to make me a pretty cover with demony boys!). As to warnings...there is violence and mayhem, there is violent sex, some of which is consensual, some of which really isn't: Non-Con, Dub-Con, Drug use, violence, bondage, knife play, blood play, incest of every configuration including Daddy!cest, character death (none of the Winchesters).
The Demons Winchester
John Winchester stood in the doorway surveying the room, his eyes settling on the booth in the far corner. The dirty baseball cap and beard were all he needed to see to know that this was the man he’d come to meet.
He knew that Bobby Singer didn’t really like him. He knew that most of the hunters in the bar felt the same. He didn’t really care.
There was an uneasy acceptance of him and his boys, because the Winchesters got shit done. Things that even hunters couldn’t. And, they weren’t afraid to take on the big bad things.
For a price.
John moved into the room, noticing with no small amount of pride the way whispers circled around him, fingers pointing. He slid into the booth and Bobby looked up, around them.
The whispers stopped. If Bobby Singer had business with John Winchester, it had to be bad. Ugly. No one in the room would question that.
John waited. This was Singer’s call. He’d been surprised by the message, but intrigued. Of all of them, Bobby Singer maybe had most cause to know what, exactly, John and his boys were.
They’d crossed paths enough.
After a long silence, Singer dropped a leather pouch on the table. “What, no drink first?” John asked, waving at the waitress.
“Not here to entertain you Winchester.”
“Not looking without a drink. Whiskey. Bring the bottle.”
They sat in silence until the waitress brought the bottle and two glasses. John poured two shots and lifted his. The other man just looked at him. “I don’t do business with a man that won’t drink with me.” John said, then downed his shot.
Bobby sighed and lifted the glass, slamming the shot back. “Satisfied?”
John smiled and nodded, pouring himself another shot before reaching for the pouch. He loosened the ties and dumped the contents on the table. It fell with a thud, a sound that seemed to silence the room. “Seal of Dameron? Ain’t seen one in a long time.”
“Rumor is you’ve been looking for one.”
John downed the shot. “Maybe. Hard to find.”
There was a noise at the door and a ripple through the room. John didn’t need to look to realize that his boys had gotten bored waiting for him. Bobby’s eyes darted to them and watched for a moment, then flicked back to John.
“Isn’t cheap either. You interested?”
John glanced over his shoulder at his boys. Dean was feeding money into the jukebox. Sam was watching John, his green eyes dark and dangerous.
“What’s it gonna cost me?” John asked, dragging his eyes back to the relic on the table. He had a line on another one, but truthfully, they’d need a second in a few years, so he didn’t mind haggling.
“Got a job.” Bobby said. He lifted a folder and dropped it on the table. “Can’t do it alone.”
***
Sam surveyed the room with a cool eye, aware of his father in the corner and his brother at the jukebox. He could feel the response of the people…the hunters. They were wary of his father, but the appearance of the two brothers made them uneasy.
Sam liked the way that made him feel. It was arousing. Powerful.
He adjusted himself, then moved toward where Dean was still looking through the music on the jukebox. He positioned himself behind Dean and leaned over him, pressing himself against his body, running his hands up over his legs.
It was blatant and crude, and Dean pushed back into him, grinding his ass against Sam’s erection right there for everyone to see. Sam hissed and slid one hand in front of Dean, cupping his cock and fondling him to hardness.
“Dad’s gonna get pissed.” Dean said softly, not denying Sam, not pulling away.
“Let him.” Sam responded, though he eased back a little. He was more than happy to make the people uncomfortable and risk a tongue lashing, but not really ready for the beating that could happen if his father really got angry.
Dean chuckled and straightened up. “You say that now.”
Sam leaned in close, whispering in Dean’s ear. “Want to bend you over right here in front of everyone and fuck your ass.” Sam’s hand slipped into the pocket of Dean’s jeans, pulling him tight up to Sam.
“Boys!”
Their father’s voice rang out around them and Sam released his brother. He was on his way out the front door and they both followed without a word. Once outside John whapped Sam upside the head.
“Ow!” Sam ducked away, behind Dean.
“What have I told you?” John shook his head. “Never mind. Here.” He shoved a leather pouch into Sam’s hand. “Take this. Put it with the rest of the stuff for your brother’s ritual.”
Dean watched Sam tuck it in his pocket. “What is it?”
“Seal of Dameron. You two head on back to the room.”
“What about you?”
“Got a hunt, something Singer needs help with.”
Sam curled a hand around the back of Dean’s neck possessively. “Don’t like him. Watch your back.”
John grinned wickedly, and pulled Sam to him, kissing him deep before releasing him. “Always do boy. You make sure your brother takes care of business before you two get all depraved.”
“Too late for that.” Sam said with a grin. His hand tightened on Dean’s neck and they turned for the car. “How about I drop you off to take care of business and I go get us some food?” Sam asked as they headed out of the parking lot.
“Yeah, good. But no more of those nasty burritos, dude. I’m tired of Mexican.”
***
Dean Winchester was well aware of how the hunting community saw the Winchesters. Their father was the cunning one, competent and efficient, never took a job he couldn’t finish…even if no one was ever sure exactly how he got it done. Sam was the scary one, unpredictable, volatile…something was very not right with the youngest Winchester the whispers said.
Dean, however, was the quiet one. They almost looked at him with pity in their eyes. They saw him as the one caught in the middle, the one who did as he was told, the one who was the least dangerous of the three.
Dean smiled as he let himself into the room and moved to the portal. He murmured the words and the door opened. He stepped through, unbuttoning his shirt as he did.
The room he stepped into was miles from the motel they were currently crashing in and underground in a bunker that was soundproof and hidden and secured with magic.
The girl had learned. She didn’t cry, didn’t speak. She just looked at him dully, her hands curling over the swollen expanse of her stomach. Dean smiled proudly. “That’s my good girl.”
She shivered at the sound of his voice. He pulled her bowl off the ground and crossed to the locked cabinet. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Chains rattled and when Dean turned, she was on her knees, her nakedness exposed and waiting. “I guess you are.” He set the bowl on the table and unzipped his jeans. His cock hardened as he moved behind her. This was the routine, she accepted his cock, and she got to eat. She didn’t accept it and he took her anyway and left her hungry.
It wasn’t pleasure, although he’d be lying if he said he got no pleasure from it. This was business. The kind of business that would ensure he lived past his twenty-fifth birthday. She’d been a virgin when his father brought her to him, drawn the fertility symbols on her skin and offered her up to Dean. He’d held her while Dean took her, impregnating her on the first go.
Every night after, was assurance, subjugation, domination. In a few weeks, she’d give birth to his son, and Dean would have no further need of her. The boy, on the other hand, would be a part of the ritual that would seal him in this body, keep him from a one way ticket to hell.
She shuddered as he sank into her, but she was past fighting. She probably knew she would be dead soon. Sam told her often enough. Sadistic bastard. Dean moved fast, fucked her hard and filled her, before standing and zipping himself back up. Her stomach almost touched the ground now. It wouldn’t be long.
He put her food on the floor in front of her, dry granola and filled her water bowl. “Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He stepped back through the portal, not surprised to find his brother there, and not alone. There was a pizza on the table, and a half naked man on the bed. Dean raised an eyebrow. Sam grinned. He was halfway to undressed himself.
Dean glanced at the dazed man on the bed. Okay, so maybe Sam was half way to re-dressed. “What? You couldn’t wait?”
“Figured I’d get some while you were busy.” Sam said. “No worries, there’s plenty more.”
Dean crossed to the pizza and grabbed a slice, turning to watch the man as he slowly came aware of his surroundings.
“What?”
He wasn’t going anywhere. Sam had him tied down, wrists secured to the head board, ankles to the legs of the bed. His ass was turned up with pillows tucked under him. Sam’s come was oozing from his ass. Dean knew from experience that the man knew he’d been fucked. Sam never was gentle about it.
Dean swallowed his pizza and crossed to the bed. “He’s a pretty one, Sammy.”
The man was in his early twenties, dark hair, dark eyes, a dusting of facial hair. “Take it easy, sir. My brother here, he’s a pro with rope. If you try to get loose, you’ll only hurt yourself.”
“What? Where am I?” He blinked, tried to look up at Sam. “You…”
Sam grinned. “Me. Shouldn’t take drinks from strangers.” Sam moved closer to the bed, ran his hand over the upturned ass. “You’re pretty tight.” Sam stuck a finger in and the man tried to pull away. He pulled the finger out and held it out to Dean, coated in come.
Dean licked at it, then sucked the finger into his mouth. The man just stared. “Bet he won’t be in a few hours,” he said when he let the finger go.”
“I’m going to scream.”
Dean stood, smirking. “Go ahead. Sam likes it when you scream. No one’s going to hear you anyway.”
“You two are insane.”
Sam leaned down close to his ear. “No, we’re demons. There is a difference.”
Sam laughed and pulled Dean to him. His kiss was bruising, his teeth mean against Dean’s lip. He didn’t pull back until he tasted blood. “I’m gonna hit the shower. Get him naked.”
Dean smirked. “I don’t know, I kind of like the naughty boy with his jeans around his knees look.”
Sam growled. “Naked. I’m hungry.”
Dean sighed and watched him go. “Okay, I guess it’s naked then.” He pulled a knife from his boot and crossed to the bed. “Not your lucky night.” He set about cutting the man’s clothes off of him. He wasn’t going to be needing them anymore anyway. If Sam was hungry, there wouldn’t be much left come morning anyway.
“You gotta let me go.”
Dean stopped cutting and cocked his head at the guy. “Once Sammy’s had you, you belong to Sammy. You’re not going anywhere. Relax, you might even enjoy it.”
The man shivered. “I’m not…I don’t do guys…I…I’ll scream…”
Dean patted his shoulder. “Sam likes it when you scream. I already told you that.” He went back to cutting the shirt loose. Then he moved to the jeans, pausing to run a hand over the upturned ass. “He didn’t even use lube, did he?” He chuckled. “That’s Sam for you. Impatient.”
“Please, just let me go.”
Dean finished off the jeans and tossed them aside. He set the knife down by the pizza box and grabbed at a bag on the floor. He fished around in it until he came up with a sizeable butt plug. He held it up, then went back to the bed. “This should help loosen you up.” He shoved it in with no lube but Sam’s come and patted the guy’s ass. “You got a name?”
The guy just stared at him. Dean poked him. “Name.”
“Martin. Martin.” He shuddered as Dean’s hand stroked over his ass again.
“Well, Marty, I’m Dean. The other guy is my brother Sam. My father will show up eventually, though I imagine by then you’ll be pretty out of it. Let me explain to you what’s going to happen.”
Dean’s hand slipped down between Marty’s legs, caressing over his cock. “We’re going to fuck you. Repeatedly. We’re going to cut you and lick up the blood. We’ll feed you drugs, cause the buzz we get after is awesome.”
“You’re insane. Fucking insane.”
“Like Sam said, we’re demons. There’s a world of difference. The insane don’t know what they’re doing or why they’re doing it. We do.” He pulled on Marty’s cock and despite everything it started to harden. “That’s a good boy Marty. Enjoy it.”
Of course, even if Dean got him hard, Marty wasn’t going to be enjoying the time between now and when Sam eventually bled him dry. Not that it mattered to Dean. It meant that Sam’d save the harder stuff for Marty here, and maybe Dean wouldn’t need the recovery time.
Dean left Marty with his ass plugged and still begging Dean to let him go and went to fetch more toys to play with. Sam was hungry, and that meant knives. He got the kit and took it to the nightstand, unrolling the leather bundle to reveal a collection of finely bladed instruments.
He picked up one and turned to Marty. He was shaking with fear. Probably meant his cock had gone soft. “Ever had someone cut you, Marty?” He turned the blade so that it caught the little bit of light. “Blade like this, you won’t even feel it at first. Slices through the skin like it’s not even there. But then, when you’re open and bleeding, the fear oozing out with your blood…and the air touches you…then you’ll feel it. And when I press my mouth over it and lick it…you’ll know it.”
Sam emerged from the bathroom then, naked and hard, his hair slicked back, his body glistening with wet from his shower. He tilted his head and eyed Marty up. “Have you been getting him ready for our little party?”
Dean held up the knife. “Want first taste?”
Sam’s eyes lit up like Christmas, his little boy smile sly and fake shy. “Make him bleed for me Dean…just a little…wanna taste his fear…”
Dean’s hand skated over Marty’s exposed back, ghosting over the skin, picking out a place that would bleed nice, but not cause too much damage. The cut was small, an inch maybe an inch and a half…just over the right shoulder blade. Shallow. Bloody.
Sam sniffed the air as he moved closer, and his mouth was open as he put one knee on the bed. “Smell that Dean? Can you smell how terrified he is?”
Dean loved the way he looked just then…his face just glowing with the lust and enthusiasm, his eyes dancing with sparkling light just before the inky black filled them. He sniffed over skin just starting to slick with fearful sweat, then his tongue caught the blood that had just begun to ooze over the sliced skin, up the length of the cut. His tongue curled back, into his mouth and his eyes rolled closed as he savored it.
“Perfect.” He opened his eyes and went back for more, rising up and pulling Dean to him, offering his bloody tongue for Dean to suck into his mouth. Tongues slipped up and around, over and under, in and out until Sam pulled back, taking the knife. “Get naked. It’s time to party.”
***
Sam loved to watch Dean strip. It was nearly as much fun as tying him up and ripping his clothes off of him. Sam lapped at the blood, spread it over skin while Dean backed off and unzipped his jeans. He turned his back and bent over to pull them down, giving Sam a perfect view of his ass.
Sam groaned and petted over the guy’s ass. He was trembling, babbling. “If you can’t shut up, Dean here has gotten pretty good at cutting vocal chords without making you bleed out. Pretty painful though.”
Dean turned to look and Sam grinned. “He means it Marty, I’d stop yammering if I were you. Screaming he likes, the whining not so much.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Marty?” Dean shrugged, dropping the last of his clothes to the floor. “What did I tell you about names?”
Dean came back to the bed, lifting a different knife. “Well, we need to call him something…unless you’re planning on a quickie. Remember that girl in Dayton? Four days Sam. Four days and you called her ‘girl’.”
“Less complicated.”
Dean petted down Marty’s back before lifting the knife and slicing a companion cut into his shoulder. The smell was intoxicating. Fear. Shame. Dean’s finger delved into the cut and Marty screamed, thrashing in his bonds. Sam grinned and opened his mouth for the finger Dean offered him.
“Want to watch you fuck him.” Sam said, pulling Dean in to bite at his lips. “Gonna paint you red while you fuck him.”
Dean handed the knife to Sam and bent to lick the trail of blood oozing out of the second cut, his cock hardening as he did. “You ready for me Marty? We’re going to have us some fun.”
Sam sat back and watched as Dean knelt on the bed behind the man and fucked the butt plug in and out a time or two before he pulled it out and tossed it aside. Sam was already thinking he wanted to see that massive dildo they’d gotten in San Francisco shoved into the guy’s ass.
But they had time for that.
Dean was lining up now, leaning forward. Marty was keening, his face in the pillow. “Fuck, you weren’t lying Sam. He’s fucking tight.”
Sam traced over Marty’s back with the blade. “Ass virgin.” He made delicate little cuts over the skin, then set the knife aside, watching the blood rise to the surface as Dean started to fuck him. Sam lifted a hand, pressed it to bloody skin, rubbing, smearing blood down to his ass, pushing a rivulet of blood down and onto Dean’s cock as it emerged from him.
His brother had a beautiful cock. Long and thick and responsive to the slightest stimulus. Sam lifted his hand, dripping with blood and pressed it to Dean’s chest, sliding it up his neck and onto his face. Dean licked at it as Sam finger painted his lips. By the time Marty was spent, they’d both be covered in it.
Sam got up off the bed and moved behind Dean. He smeared blood over his own cock and shoved Dean forward before shoving himself up and into Dean. The bed groaned. Dean’s head fell back against Sam’s shoulder as he surrendered to Sam’s thrusting, letting Sam’s movement fuck him up into Marty.
It was just fucking hot when he did that. Made Sam’s whole body thrum with the power Dean just surrendered to him. Dean dragged a finger down Marty’s back and lifted it to Sam’s mouth. “Harder Sammy…harder.”
“I’ll give you harder Dean.” Sam pushed him forward and pressed him down, shoving his cock in deep and hard. Dean moaned, Marty was begging. Sam felt it when Dean’s orgasm started, his body stiffening pushing forward into Marty just a little more. Sam snapped his hips a few times more and followed him.
When Dean caught his breath and managed to get up, he was painted red from his nose all the way to his dick. Sam turned him and pushed him onto the bed next to Marty, licking his way up Dean’s skin.
He was laving over one nipple when he felt eyes. Marty was watching. Sam cocked his head to one side. “Marty, eh? You want a taste, Marty?” Sam bent his head and covered his tongue with blood before grabbing Marty’s face and kissing him, forcing his tongue past his lips. Marty struggled, but Sam didn’t let him go until he’d swallowed. “Better when it’s still hot.” Sam grinned as Marty sputtered and coughed, trying to pull away.
Dean was stretching for the nightstand, and came back with a bottle. “What’s your pleasure tonight Sammy?”
Sam sat back and grinned. “Make him buzz for me Dean.”
Dean opened the bottle and sorted through several pills before he found one he liked and turned to Marty. “Be a good boy now Marty and take your medicine.” He pushed the pill in and held his mouth shut until he’d swallowed. “One good buzz coming your way.”
Sam grinned down at him, then went back to licking him clean. “Gonna feel so good…”
Dean’s hand snaked up into Sam’s hair and pulled him up to kiss. “You feel good.”
Sam grabbed at Dean’s cock, squeezing until Dean gasped. “That good?”
Dean’s eyes flared. Sam knew that look. Dean was just getting warmed up. Just the way Sam liked it.
***
John Winchester opened the door to the hotel room. Sam stirred, opened his eyes. He was curled tight around his brother. On the other bed was a bloody lump that he supposed had been a man at some point.
He dropped his bag on the floor and ran a hand through his hair. He was surprised when the lump groaned. He moved closer. The man’s body was a mess of cuts and welts and dried blood and come. Obviously the boys had been enjoying themselves. There were chunks of flesh missing from his ass and Sam’s 14 inch fake black plastic cock was sticking out of his ass.
He felt Sam’s eyes, though he didn’t move, keeping Dean pulled close. “Left him for you if you want him.” Sam said softly.
John snorted. “He’s a mess.”
Sam nodded, his eyes dark. “He’ll be gone by morning.”
“I think I’ll pass. Gonna shower.” John put the leather bladder in his hands on the table. Its contents were precious, powerful. Maybe more important than the seal was.
Sam buried his head in his brother’s neck and John headed for the bathroom. Singer hadn’t been kidding about the hunt. It had been bad…and this human body wasn’t as young as it once was. The demon had been old, powerful. It was opening a portal when they’d gotten there and they’d ended up taking down five in all before it was over. Two got away, but they were no real threat to John or his boys. Not like the big guy was.
The bastard had taken one look at John and known who he really was. He didn’t think Singer had it figured out, but he was going to need watching for a while. Wouldn’t do for him to get any ideas.
John stripped out of his clothes and stepped in under the hot water. The room smelled of blood and sex, even with the door to the bathroom closed. It was arousing. He’d originally come back with the idea to shower and get them on the road. Now he was contemplating a little something more.
He stepped from the shower and dried off. He figured he better check on the girl, since it would be a day or so before they got back to her once they closed the portal. He pulled on a pair of jeans, grabbed at the bladder and stepped through the portal.
She sat up almost instantly, her eyes darting around, probably looking for Dean. Or making sure Sam wasn’t with him. “Just me, darling. Sorry.”
Her eyes dropped and John crossed to her, squatting down. “Not long now, eh?” His hand caressed over the round of her stomach, feeling for the child within. He could feel it, the blood of this human suit and the blood of his darker self all coiled up inside.
She looked like she wanted to cover herself, protect her unborn child, but they both knew it would only anger him. He lifted the bladder, opened the end. “To you this will probably taste like shit, but it’s for the baby. You will drink it.”
She nodded minutely and he lifted it to her mouth, pouring the dark liquid into her. She gagged and fought to swallow, finally succeeding. She was panting when John stood. “We might be a few days, so I’ll give you some extra food and water.” He did that, then headed back to the portal.
She whimpered and he looked back. “It’ll all be over soon.” Not that that would be a comforting thought. For her anyway.
Back in the room, he put the bladder on the table again and stripped out of his jeans. He wasn’t sleeping with the bloody lump, so he crossed the other bed. It was barely big enough for the boys, but they were a close family. He grinned at the thought, his hands sliding over Dean’s bare skin as he moved them and climbed in beside them.
Sam’s eyes opened again, dark and glittery over Dean’s shoulder. John leaned in to kiss him, his teeth pulling on Sam’s lip. Then his mouth descended onto Dean’s shoulder, biting into skin until Dean shifted, his eyes opening, questioning.
He didn’t say anything when John’s hard cock pressed into his thigh, just rolled until he was facing Sam, offering his ass for the taking. Sam’s hand slid along Dean’s hip, down onto his ass, lifting his leg to make room for John. Obviously Sam had already fucked him more than once recently…his ass was still sticky and loose.
John’s cock slid in easy and he rocked them together, pressing Dean into Sam. He wanted it to last, but with the stink of blood and death and sex in the room, and the thrill of the fight and Dean so pliant beneath him, he came fast, grunting and pulling Dean to him. He pushed at Sam. “Go clean up your mess. We’re leaving.”
Title: The Demons Winchester, Part 1 (Prologue)
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: John/Mary, Dean/OFC, John/OFC, John/Dean, Dean/Sam, Sam/OMC(s), Dean/OMC(s), John/Dean/Sam, Bobby, Caleb (Total story)
Word Count: ~20,000 (total story)
Summary: What if? What if John and Mary were possessed? What would Dean and Sam be? How evil would Demon Winchesters be? Several nights before their wedding, John and Mary are taken by a pair of demon lovers. The next few years are much the same as canon...until their demon master comes looking for them, and takes Mary, sending John and the boys on the run.
A/Ns & Warnings: Written for
johnsgillygirl who won me and paid an enormous sum of money for the privilege during the March special auction over at Sweet Charity. She wanted 20,000 words of Demon boys...(I'm looking for one or two high quality caps of the scenes in "Dream a Little Dream" when double!Dean had black eyes...or for someone who reads this to make me a pretty cover with demony boys!). As to warnings...there is violence and mayhem, there is violent sex, some of which is consensual, some of which really isn't: Non-Con, Dub-Con, Drug use, violence, bondage, knife play, blood play, incest of every configuration including Daddy!cest, character death (none of the Winchesters).The Demons Winchester
John Winchester stood in the doorway surveying the room, his eyes settling on the booth in the far corner. The dirty baseball cap and beard were all he needed to see to know that this was the man he’d come to meet.
He knew that Bobby Singer didn’t really like him. He knew that most of the hunters in the bar felt the same. He didn’t really care.
There was an uneasy acceptance of him and his boys, because the Winchesters got shit done. Things that even hunters couldn’t. And, they weren’t afraid to take on the big bad things.
For a price.
John moved into the room, noticing with no small amount of pride the way whispers circled around him, fingers pointing. He slid into the booth and Bobby looked up, around them.
The whispers stopped. If Bobby Singer had business with John Winchester, it had to be bad. Ugly. No one in the room would question that.
John waited. This was Singer’s call. He’d been surprised by the message, but intrigued. Of all of them, Bobby Singer maybe had most cause to know what, exactly, John and his boys were.
They’d crossed paths enough.
After a long silence, Singer dropped a leather pouch on the table. “What, no drink first?” John asked, waving at the waitress.
“Not here to entertain you Winchester.”
“Not looking without a drink. Whiskey. Bring the bottle.”
They sat in silence until the waitress brought the bottle and two glasses. John poured two shots and lifted his. The other man just looked at him. “I don’t do business with a man that won’t drink with me.” John said, then downed his shot.
Bobby sighed and lifted the glass, slamming the shot back. “Satisfied?”
John smiled and nodded, pouring himself another shot before reaching for the pouch. He loosened the ties and dumped the contents on the table. It fell with a thud, a sound that seemed to silence the room. “Seal of Dameron? Ain’t seen one in a long time.”
“Rumor is you’ve been looking for one.”
John downed the shot. “Maybe. Hard to find.”
There was a noise at the door and a ripple through the room. John didn’t need to look to realize that his boys had gotten bored waiting for him. Bobby’s eyes darted to them and watched for a moment, then flicked back to John.
“Isn’t cheap either. You interested?”
John glanced over his shoulder at his boys. Dean was feeding money into the jukebox. Sam was watching John, his green eyes dark and dangerous.
“What’s it gonna cost me?” John asked, dragging his eyes back to the relic on the table. He had a line on another one, but truthfully, they’d need a second in a few years, so he didn’t mind haggling.
“Got a job.” Bobby said. He lifted a folder and dropped it on the table. “Can’t do it alone.”
Sam surveyed the room with a cool eye, aware of his father in the corner and his brother at the jukebox. He could feel the response of the people…the hunters. They were wary of his father, but the appearance of the two brothers made them uneasy.
Sam liked the way that made him feel. It was arousing. Powerful.
He adjusted himself, then moved toward where Dean was still looking through the music on the jukebox. He positioned himself behind Dean and leaned over him, pressing himself against his body, running his hands up over his legs.
It was blatant and crude, and Dean pushed back into him, grinding his ass against Sam’s erection right there for everyone to see. Sam hissed and slid one hand in front of Dean, cupping his cock and fondling him to hardness.
“Dad’s gonna get pissed.” Dean said softly, not denying Sam, not pulling away.
“Let him.” Sam responded, though he eased back a little. He was more than happy to make the people uncomfortable and risk a tongue lashing, but not really ready for the beating that could happen if his father really got angry.
Dean chuckled and straightened up. “You say that now.”
Sam leaned in close, whispering in Dean’s ear. “Want to bend you over right here in front of everyone and fuck your ass.” Sam’s hand slipped into the pocket of Dean’s jeans, pulling him tight up to Sam.
“Boys!”
Their father’s voice rang out around them and Sam released his brother. He was on his way out the front door and they both followed without a word. Once outside John whapped Sam upside the head.
“Ow!” Sam ducked away, behind Dean.
“What have I told you?” John shook his head. “Never mind. Here.” He shoved a leather pouch into Sam’s hand. “Take this. Put it with the rest of the stuff for your brother’s ritual.”
Dean watched Sam tuck it in his pocket. “What is it?”
“Seal of Dameron. You two head on back to the room.”
“What about you?”
“Got a hunt, something Singer needs help with.”
Sam curled a hand around the back of Dean’s neck possessively. “Don’t like him. Watch your back.”
John grinned wickedly, and pulled Sam to him, kissing him deep before releasing him. “Always do boy. You make sure your brother takes care of business before you two get all depraved.”
“Too late for that.” Sam said with a grin. His hand tightened on Dean’s neck and they turned for the car. “How about I drop you off to take care of business and I go get us some food?” Sam asked as they headed out of the parking lot.
“Yeah, good. But no more of those nasty burritos, dude. I’m tired of Mexican.”
Dean Winchester was well aware of how the hunting community saw the Winchesters. Their father was the cunning one, competent and efficient, never took a job he couldn’t finish…even if no one was ever sure exactly how he got it done. Sam was the scary one, unpredictable, volatile…something was very not right with the youngest Winchester the whispers said.
Dean, however, was the quiet one. They almost looked at him with pity in their eyes. They saw him as the one caught in the middle, the one who did as he was told, the one who was the least dangerous of the three.
Dean smiled as he let himself into the room and moved to the portal. He murmured the words and the door opened. He stepped through, unbuttoning his shirt as he did.
The room he stepped into was miles from the motel they were currently crashing in and underground in a bunker that was soundproof and hidden and secured with magic.
The girl had learned. She didn’t cry, didn’t speak. She just looked at him dully, her hands curling over the swollen expanse of her stomach. Dean smiled proudly. “That’s my good girl.”
She shivered at the sound of his voice. He pulled her bowl off the ground and crossed to the locked cabinet. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Chains rattled and when Dean turned, she was on her knees, her nakedness exposed and waiting. “I guess you are.” He set the bowl on the table and unzipped his jeans. His cock hardened as he moved behind her. This was the routine, she accepted his cock, and she got to eat. She didn’t accept it and he took her anyway and left her hungry.
It wasn’t pleasure, although he’d be lying if he said he got no pleasure from it. This was business. The kind of business that would ensure he lived past his twenty-fifth birthday. She’d been a virgin when his father brought her to him, drawn the fertility symbols on her skin and offered her up to Dean. He’d held her while Dean took her, impregnating her on the first go.
Every night after, was assurance, subjugation, domination. In a few weeks, she’d give birth to his son, and Dean would have no further need of her. The boy, on the other hand, would be a part of the ritual that would seal him in this body, keep him from a one way ticket to hell.
She shuddered as he sank into her, but she was past fighting. She probably knew she would be dead soon. Sam told her often enough. Sadistic bastard. Dean moved fast, fucked her hard and filled her, before standing and zipping himself back up. Her stomach almost touched the ground now. It wouldn’t be long.
He put her food on the floor in front of her, dry granola and filled her water bowl. “Sleep well. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He stepped back through the portal, not surprised to find his brother there, and not alone. There was a pizza on the table, and a half naked man on the bed. Dean raised an eyebrow. Sam grinned. He was halfway to undressed himself.
Dean glanced at the dazed man on the bed. Okay, so maybe Sam was half way to re-dressed. “What? You couldn’t wait?”
“Figured I’d get some while you were busy.” Sam said. “No worries, there’s plenty more.”
Dean crossed to the pizza and grabbed a slice, turning to watch the man as he slowly came aware of his surroundings.
“What?”
He wasn’t going anywhere. Sam had him tied down, wrists secured to the head board, ankles to the legs of the bed. His ass was turned up with pillows tucked under him. Sam’s come was oozing from his ass. Dean knew from experience that the man knew he’d been fucked. Sam never was gentle about it.
Dean swallowed his pizza and crossed to the bed. “He’s a pretty one, Sammy.”
The man was in his early twenties, dark hair, dark eyes, a dusting of facial hair. “Take it easy, sir. My brother here, he’s a pro with rope. If you try to get loose, you’ll only hurt yourself.”
“What? Where am I?” He blinked, tried to look up at Sam. “You…”
Sam grinned. “Me. Shouldn’t take drinks from strangers.” Sam moved closer to the bed, ran his hand over the upturned ass. “You’re pretty tight.” Sam stuck a finger in and the man tried to pull away. He pulled the finger out and held it out to Dean, coated in come.
Dean licked at it, then sucked the finger into his mouth. The man just stared. “Bet he won’t be in a few hours,” he said when he let the finger go.”
“I’m going to scream.”
Dean stood, smirking. “Go ahead. Sam likes it when you scream. No one’s going to hear you anyway.”
“You two are insane.”
Sam leaned down close to his ear. “No, we’re demons. There is a difference.”
Sam laughed and pulled Dean to him. His kiss was bruising, his teeth mean against Dean’s lip. He didn’t pull back until he tasted blood. “I’m gonna hit the shower. Get him naked.”
Dean smirked. “I don’t know, I kind of like the naughty boy with his jeans around his knees look.”
Sam growled. “Naked. I’m hungry.”
Dean sighed and watched him go. “Okay, I guess it’s naked then.” He pulled a knife from his boot and crossed to the bed. “Not your lucky night.” He set about cutting the man’s clothes off of him. He wasn’t going to be needing them anymore anyway. If Sam was hungry, there wouldn’t be much left come morning anyway.
“You gotta let me go.”
Dean stopped cutting and cocked his head at the guy. “Once Sammy’s had you, you belong to Sammy. You’re not going anywhere. Relax, you might even enjoy it.”
The man shivered. “I’m not…I don’t do guys…I…I’ll scream…”
Dean patted his shoulder. “Sam likes it when you scream. I already told you that.” He went back to cutting the shirt loose. Then he moved to the jeans, pausing to run a hand over the upturned ass. “He didn’t even use lube, did he?” He chuckled. “That’s Sam for you. Impatient.”
“Please, just let me go.”
Dean finished off the jeans and tossed them aside. He set the knife down by the pizza box and grabbed at a bag on the floor. He fished around in it until he came up with a sizeable butt plug. He held it up, then went back to the bed. “This should help loosen you up.” He shoved it in with no lube but Sam’s come and patted the guy’s ass. “You got a name?”
The guy just stared at him. Dean poked him. “Name.”
“Martin. Martin.” He shuddered as Dean’s hand stroked over his ass again.
“Well, Marty, I’m Dean. The other guy is my brother Sam. My father will show up eventually, though I imagine by then you’ll be pretty out of it. Let me explain to you what’s going to happen.”
Dean’s hand slipped down between Marty’s legs, caressing over his cock. “We’re going to fuck you. Repeatedly. We’re going to cut you and lick up the blood. We’ll feed you drugs, cause the buzz we get after is awesome.”
“You’re insane. Fucking insane.”
“Like Sam said, we’re demons. There’s a world of difference. The insane don’t know what they’re doing or why they’re doing it. We do.” He pulled on Marty’s cock and despite everything it started to harden. “That’s a good boy Marty. Enjoy it.”
Of course, even if Dean got him hard, Marty wasn’t going to be enjoying the time between now and when Sam eventually bled him dry. Not that it mattered to Dean. It meant that Sam’d save the harder stuff for Marty here, and maybe Dean wouldn’t need the recovery time.
Dean left Marty with his ass plugged and still begging Dean to let him go and went to fetch more toys to play with. Sam was hungry, and that meant knives. He got the kit and took it to the nightstand, unrolling the leather bundle to reveal a collection of finely bladed instruments.
He picked up one and turned to Marty. He was shaking with fear. Probably meant his cock had gone soft. “Ever had someone cut you, Marty?” He turned the blade so that it caught the little bit of light. “Blade like this, you won’t even feel it at first. Slices through the skin like it’s not even there. But then, when you’re open and bleeding, the fear oozing out with your blood…and the air touches you…then you’ll feel it. And when I press my mouth over it and lick it…you’ll know it.”
Sam emerged from the bathroom then, naked and hard, his hair slicked back, his body glistening with wet from his shower. He tilted his head and eyed Marty up. “Have you been getting him ready for our little party?”
Dean held up the knife. “Want first taste?”
Sam’s eyes lit up like Christmas, his little boy smile sly and fake shy. “Make him bleed for me Dean…just a little…wanna taste his fear…”
Dean’s hand skated over Marty’s exposed back, ghosting over the skin, picking out a place that would bleed nice, but not cause too much damage. The cut was small, an inch maybe an inch and a half…just over the right shoulder blade. Shallow. Bloody.
Sam sniffed the air as he moved closer, and his mouth was open as he put one knee on the bed. “Smell that Dean? Can you smell how terrified he is?”
Dean loved the way he looked just then…his face just glowing with the lust and enthusiasm, his eyes dancing with sparkling light just before the inky black filled them. He sniffed over skin just starting to slick with fearful sweat, then his tongue caught the blood that had just begun to ooze over the sliced skin, up the length of the cut. His tongue curled back, into his mouth and his eyes rolled closed as he savored it.
“Perfect.” He opened his eyes and went back for more, rising up and pulling Dean to him, offering his bloody tongue for Dean to suck into his mouth. Tongues slipped up and around, over and under, in and out until Sam pulled back, taking the knife. “Get naked. It’s time to party.”
Sam loved to watch Dean strip. It was nearly as much fun as tying him up and ripping his clothes off of him. Sam lapped at the blood, spread it over skin while Dean backed off and unzipped his jeans. He turned his back and bent over to pull them down, giving Sam a perfect view of his ass.
Sam groaned and petted over the guy’s ass. He was trembling, babbling. “If you can’t shut up, Dean here has gotten pretty good at cutting vocal chords without making you bleed out. Pretty painful though.”
Dean turned to look and Sam grinned. “He means it Marty, I’d stop yammering if I were you. Screaming he likes, the whining not so much.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Marty?” Dean shrugged, dropping the last of his clothes to the floor. “What did I tell you about names?”
Dean came back to the bed, lifting a different knife. “Well, we need to call him something…unless you’re planning on a quickie. Remember that girl in Dayton? Four days Sam. Four days and you called her ‘girl’.”
“Less complicated.”
Dean petted down Marty’s back before lifting the knife and slicing a companion cut into his shoulder. The smell was intoxicating. Fear. Shame. Dean’s finger delved into the cut and Marty screamed, thrashing in his bonds. Sam grinned and opened his mouth for the finger Dean offered him.
“Want to watch you fuck him.” Sam said, pulling Dean in to bite at his lips. “Gonna paint you red while you fuck him.”
Dean handed the knife to Sam and bent to lick the trail of blood oozing out of the second cut, his cock hardening as he did. “You ready for me Marty? We’re going to have us some fun.”
Sam sat back and watched as Dean knelt on the bed behind the man and fucked the butt plug in and out a time or two before he pulled it out and tossed it aside. Sam was already thinking he wanted to see that massive dildo they’d gotten in San Francisco shoved into the guy’s ass.
But they had time for that.
Dean was lining up now, leaning forward. Marty was keening, his face in the pillow. “Fuck, you weren’t lying Sam. He’s fucking tight.”
Sam traced over Marty’s back with the blade. “Ass virgin.” He made delicate little cuts over the skin, then set the knife aside, watching the blood rise to the surface as Dean started to fuck him. Sam lifted a hand, pressed it to bloody skin, rubbing, smearing blood down to his ass, pushing a rivulet of blood down and onto Dean’s cock as it emerged from him.
His brother had a beautiful cock. Long and thick and responsive to the slightest stimulus. Sam lifted his hand, dripping with blood and pressed it to Dean’s chest, sliding it up his neck and onto his face. Dean licked at it as Sam finger painted his lips. By the time Marty was spent, they’d both be covered in it.
Sam got up off the bed and moved behind Dean. He smeared blood over his own cock and shoved Dean forward before shoving himself up and into Dean. The bed groaned. Dean’s head fell back against Sam’s shoulder as he surrendered to Sam’s thrusting, letting Sam’s movement fuck him up into Marty.
It was just fucking hot when he did that. Made Sam’s whole body thrum with the power Dean just surrendered to him. Dean dragged a finger down Marty’s back and lifted it to Sam’s mouth. “Harder Sammy…harder.”
“I’ll give you harder Dean.” Sam pushed him forward and pressed him down, shoving his cock in deep and hard. Dean moaned, Marty was begging. Sam felt it when Dean’s orgasm started, his body stiffening pushing forward into Marty just a little more. Sam snapped his hips a few times more and followed him.
When Dean caught his breath and managed to get up, he was painted red from his nose all the way to his dick. Sam turned him and pushed him onto the bed next to Marty, licking his way up Dean’s skin.
He was laving over one nipple when he felt eyes. Marty was watching. Sam cocked his head to one side. “Marty, eh? You want a taste, Marty?” Sam bent his head and covered his tongue with blood before grabbing Marty’s face and kissing him, forcing his tongue past his lips. Marty struggled, but Sam didn’t let him go until he’d swallowed. “Better when it’s still hot.” Sam grinned as Marty sputtered and coughed, trying to pull away.
Dean was stretching for the nightstand, and came back with a bottle. “What’s your pleasure tonight Sammy?”
Sam sat back and grinned. “Make him buzz for me Dean.”
Dean opened the bottle and sorted through several pills before he found one he liked and turned to Marty. “Be a good boy now Marty and take your medicine.” He pushed the pill in and held his mouth shut until he’d swallowed. “One good buzz coming your way.”
Sam grinned down at him, then went back to licking him clean. “Gonna feel so good…”
Dean’s hand snaked up into Sam’s hair and pulled him up to kiss. “You feel good.”
Sam grabbed at Dean’s cock, squeezing until Dean gasped. “That good?”
Dean’s eyes flared. Sam knew that look. Dean was just getting warmed up. Just the way Sam liked it.
John Winchester opened the door to the hotel room. Sam stirred, opened his eyes. He was curled tight around his brother. On the other bed was a bloody lump that he supposed had been a man at some point.
He dropped his bag on the floor and ran a hand through his hair. He was surprised when the lump groaned. He moved closer. The man’s body was a mess of cuts and welts and dried blood and come. Obviously the boys had been enjoying themselves. There were chunks of flesh missing from his ass and Sam’s 14 inch fake black plastic cock was sticking out of his ass.
He felt Sam’s eyes, though he didn’t move, keeping Dean pulled close. “Left him for you if you want him.” Sam said softly.
John snorted. “He’s a mess.”
Sam nodded, his eyes dark. “He’ll be gone by morning.”
“I think I’ll pass. Gonna shower.” John put the leather bladder in his hands on the table. Its contents were precious, powerful. Maybe more important than the seal was.
Sam buried his head in his brother’s neck and John headed for the bathroom. Singer hadn’t been kidding about the hunt. It had been bad…and this human body wasn’t as young as it once was. The demon had been old, powerful. It was opening a portal when they’d gotten there and they’d ended up taking down five in all before it was over. Two got away, but they were no real threat to John or his boys. Not like the big guy was.
The bastard had taken one look at John and known who he really was. He didn’t think Singer had it figured out, but he was going to need watching for a while. Wouldn’t do for him to get any ideas.
John stripped out of his clothes and stepped in under the hot water. The room smelled of blood and sex, even with the door to the bathroom closed. It was arousing. He’d originally come back with the idea to shower and get them on the road. Now he was contemplating a little something more.
He stepped from the shower and dried off. He figured he better check on the girl, since it would be a day or so before they got back to her once they closed the portal. He pulled on a pair of jeans, grabbed at the bladder and stepped through the portal.
She sat up almost instantly, her eyes darting around, probably looking for Dean. Or making sure Sam wasn’t with him. “Just me, darling. Sorry.”
Her eyes dropped and John crossed to her, squatting down. “Not long now, eh?” His hand caressed over the round of her stomach, feeling for the child within. He could feel it, the blood of this human suit and the blood of his darker self all coiled up inside.
She looked like she wanted to cover herself, protect her unborn child, but they both knew it would only anger him. He lifted the bladder, opened the end. “To you this will probably taste like shit, but it’s for the baby. You will drink it.”
She nodded minutely and he lifted it to her mouth, pouring the dark liquid into her. She gagged and fought to swallow, finally succeeding. She was panting when John stood. “We might be a few days, so I’ll give you some extra food and water.” He did that, then headed back to the portal.
She whimpered and he looked back. “It’ll all be over soon.” Not that that would be a comforting thought. For her anyway.
Back in the room, he put the bladder on the table again and stripped out of his jeans. He wasn’t sleeping with the bloody lump, so he crossed the other bed. It was barely big enough for the boys, but they were a close family. He grinned at the thought, his hands sliding over Dean’s bare skin as he moved them and climbed in beside them.
Sam’s eyes opened again, dark and glittery over Dean’s shoulder. John leaned in to kiss him, his teeth pulling on Sam’s lip. Then his mouth descended onto Dean’s shoulder, biting into skin until Dean shifted, his eyes opening, questioning.
He didn’t say anything when John’s hard cock pressed into his thigh, just rolled until he was facing Sam, offering his ass for the taking. Sam’s hand slid along Dean’s hip, down onto his ass, lifting his leg to make room for John. Obviously Sam had already fucked him more than once recently…his ass was still sticky and loose.
John’s cock slid in easy and he rocked them together, pressing Dean into Sam. He wanted it to last, but with the stink of blood and death and sex in the room, and the thrill of the fight and Dean so pliant beneath him, he came fast, grunting and pulling Dean to him. He pushed at Sam. “Go clean up your mess. We’re leaving.”
