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phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: The Demons Winchester, Part 4 (Prologue, Part One, Part Two, Part 3)
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 scream was deafening, at least until Dean put his hands into his chest, then it became sort of a rumbling, gurgling sound…wet and bloody. Sam might have preferred the screaming…but Dean was rather partial to this…especially when he gripped the edges of the rib cage and pulled.
Bones cracking and blood burning over his fingers.
The priest’s eyes went hard…cold…staring up at Dean with something that might have been forgiveness…if Dean believed that sort of thing. The knife made quick work of the veins and arteries and Dean lifted the heart, still hot, soft and vulnerable…if he squeezed just a little, it would burst open like some ripe fruit.
He stood, blood painting his naked flesh as he left the priest’s carcass on the ground and moved to the altar. He pushed against the muscle in his hand with one thumb, hissing in pleasure as it broke the surface and blood oozed from it. He pulled his thumb loose and poured the contents of the heart into the chalice.
The chalice was already half full of holy water, and the blood darkened as it filled the cup. In one bloody hand, Dean lifted it, the words of the next part of the ritual spilling out of him as he held up the heart and the cup.
He didn’t have to drink it all…just enough. It would be a fight to hold on, to not willingly abandon the body as it filled him. He finished the incantation and brought the chalice to his lips. It filled his mouth, burning and he clenched his teeth together, forcing himself to swallow…swallow…let the burn inside him, into his stomach.
He bit into the heart and swallowed that too…blood and flesh and more burning as it sank into him. Blood smeared over his face, hot and sticky and then he could feel the separation…the body becoming “other”. He forced in a deep breath and held on. This was his body. He’d been born to it.
Fuck.
He’d known it would hurt, but not like this.
He stepped away from the altar, the heart and chalice abandoned in the dirt as he clenched his stomach and fought to stay conscious.
***
The dark settled in prematurely, the storm knocking daylight out of the sky. They were surrounded now. Humans possessed. Vampires. An assortment of creatures that was impressive.
They clawed at the barriers.
So far it was nothing they couldn’t handle. Azazel hadn’t made an appearance yet, though John had no doubt that he would. He wasn’t a guy who gave up easily…and by all technicalities John and his boys still belonged to the bastard…at least until Dean finished.
Then Dean would be at least as powerful, if not more so, than the old bastard.
And Azazel wouldn’t be able to touch him…not without a fight.
A fight that John would love to see. It would be marvelously bloody.
John pulled his phone out of his pocket and thumbed the number of a hunter he knew was in town. “Hey Gordon, Winchester. Need your help…we’re surrounded. Some sort of demon gathering. Looks messy.”
He pointed Sam at a vampire digging at the outer circle, his hands smoking. Sam blasted him with holy water and he backed off. “Yeah, let me give you the address.”
He hung up and grinned. Marvelously bloody. “Back up is on its way.”
Sam nodded, moving to check the back of the house.
***
Dean moved through the next complicated steps. There were words and mixtures of herbs and stones and the smell of sulfur filled the air as he moved through it. Sulfur and the smell of his own skin continuing to burn.
He lifted the amulet, smeared blood over it. He moved to the cradle, murmuring the dedication, offering…the boy’s flesh for his own…the boy’s soul in place of his.
The baby’s eyes opened as Dean settled the amulet onto his chest. His skin was soft and white and the smear of blood from Dean’s hands stood out in stark contrast. He lifted a finger to the boy’s face, to his mouth. His lips turned red as he instinctively sucked. He was going to be a strong one.
Dean moved back to the center of the circle and the altar. It was time.
The cauldron smoldered.
Dean’s skin was slicked with sweat, even before he started the hardest part. The candles in the closed space heated the air. It was about to get harder.
He held up the blade as he recited the words. Sliced neatly into the palm of his hand. It was getting harder to move around on his feet. They were burned and blistered. Still, he walked through the pattern Sam had drawn on the ground, bleeding his own blood onto the points before moving back to the cauldron.
The ground was shaking. Dirt fell from above him. Dean fell to his knees, grunting as the pain lanced through him from fresh flesh pressed into the holy ground.
The girl was screaming again. Wind whipped over him, blowing against him. He fought, held himself upright. The noise filled the cavern, wind and wings and screams and he had to force the words out.
An invisible hand was on his neck, pressing him forward. Face first, naked skin pressed into the dirt. He fought, pressed back…but he wasn’t stronger…and it wasn’t until he relinquished, until he stopped fighting and laid himself down that the pressure released.
He gulped air as he finished the chant and one mammoth hoof appeared inches from his face. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing.
Some part of him had doubted it would work. The hoof hit the ground, shaking the cavern. It was black and darkly wet.
Nails racked over Dean’s back and he fought screaming as his flesh was torn. He had to be quiet until he was given leave to speak.
***
Sam felt the ground under him shake violently, knocking half the assembled throng to their asses. This was it.
A rush of adrenaline flushed through him. If Dean had gotten that far, chances were good he’d get through it. And if he got through, it Sam certainly could when it was his turn.
Outside the first ring, hunters were arriving, holy water and salt shots ripping through the enemy line. On his father’s side it looked like the ring had broken and they were trickling in to the second line.
So far he hadn’t seen any upper level demons. It kind of surprised him, unless they were just using the others to clear the way. And do far, no sign of Azazel. It made Sam wonder if maybe he wasn’t the big bad demon his father remembered him as.
***
“I am impressed.”
The voice rumbled through him, shook the world around them. Dean dared a glance up.
Giant, muscular legs began with the massive hooves and rose up to powerful hips and a cock bigger than Sam’s giant dildo. He couldn’t see more than that without moving though.
Dean’s body hurt, though by now the individual pains were lost to the overall symphony of hurt.
“You may continue.”
Dean bowed his head and pushed up to his knees. Next was the girl. He stole a look as he got to his feet. The beast was huge. Arms as big as his legs ending in long black claws…a chest of dark red skin…horns…eyes as black as sin itself.
He swallowed and went to retrieve the knife from the altar, moving swiftly to the girl, who seemed to have fainted. He inclined his head to the Demon and began the words, holding the knife over her.
The first cut was between her breasts, down to her sex, Her eyes popped open and her body shook. Dean sliced open her neck, then both thighs. The smell of blood and internal organs filled the space and the beast moved closer, each step rattling the room. He sniffed the air, orgasmic pleasure on his face as he leaned in. “So beautiful.” He opened his mouth and tasted her, licking up her blood and lifting his face to look at Dean.
“You are one of Azazel’s brood.”
Dean nodded tightly.
He stood upright, his horns scraping at the ceiling above them. “Azazel.”
There was no flash of light, no puff of smoke, just a man suddenly beside the beast. No, not a man. Dean realized slowly. His eyes were yellow and his smile was anything but pleased.
“I should have killed you when you were still a boy.”
The beast chuckled. “Come now Azazel, would you deprive me of one so inventive and beautiful…taste the sin in his skin…” He licked the air, as if he could taste Dean.
“He is mine, as his father and brother are mine.”
“Were yours. This one is now mine. I have accepted his offering. He has but one trial remaining. I did not call you here to dispute his ascension.” He turned to the cradle. “He has brought you a replacement. Take the child.”
Azazel followed his eyes, then looked back at Dean. “I want to watch his final trial. If he survives, I’ll take the child and go.”
The beast smiled, and Dean shivered.
The last trial.
None of the texts said what it was. But the way the beast’s massive hand went to his dick, he got an inkling. He blew out slowly and held up his hands, bowing slightly. He could handle that.
“Let’s do it then.”
***
John lifted the gun and fired. He had no idea how many hours had passed. The grass was burning, eating toward the house. At least fifteen hunters were on the other side, fighting toward him and Sam. He was starting to see the presence of Azazel’s brethren…he could feel them, trying to reach them.
He dropped the shotgun and its rock salt loads for the Colt. He only had about 8 rounds. But that should handle things. He took aim and fired, hitting the closest of them between the eyes.
Lightning flashed through the skies and in the eyes of the body the demon possessed as he fell to his knees.
One less fucker to deal with.
***
Dean closed his eyes and swallowed. The beast’s claws dug deep into his shoulder as he was bent over the bloody carcass of the girl. His own cock was back to hard and wanting just anticipating what was coming.
His feet were kicked apart and there would be no prep, no lube, just his ass and that massive cock. He blew out as he felt it, pushing into him.
It was going to rip him apart…and if it didn’t kill the body, Dean would be…immortal. It was a good thing Dean liked pain.
He gripped the edges of the sacrificial altar and tried to open himself up, will himself to relax under the endless onslaught of that cock inside him. His teeth clenched as his orgasm ripped through him and the beast laughed, shaking Dean and the altar.
“He is an eager slut.” He said it to Azazel who was watching closely, probably hoping Dean couldn’t take it…Dean noticed that Azazel’s body was pretty aroused too. “Azazel is only jealous. No one has made it this far since he did.”
Dean swallowed as the cock pulled out of him. It felt like it was pulling his entire insides out with it. “He came three times before I finished with him.”
Dean didn’t think he’d survive three orgasms like this. Then again, as he breathed in, he could smell the girl and the blood and his come, feel the fire of the last of the demon’s blood inside him. Maybe two.
The beast laughed again and quickened his pace. Those claws tightened in Dean’s shoulder and his arm spasmed. He lost his grip on the altar, his arm flopping uselessly against the dead flesh beneath him.
The beast’s hand loosed him, stroked down over Dean’s back, painting him with his own blood. He pressed in and licked over the blood. He switched hands, the bloody one moving to press on Dean’s hip, the other moving to his other shoulder, digging in until Dean let go with that hand too.
“Fuck.” His arms lay boneless at his sides. He was shaking in pain and pleasure, his cock spewing again.
The smell of come was pungent and Dean was vaguely aware of Azazel stroking his own cock now.
The room was quaking as the beast’s hooves beat the ground with every thrust into Dean. His ass was wet and hot with blood. It oozed out of him and down his thighs. His knees gave out and the next thrust pushed him into the wood of the altar, his cock banging against it painfully. His vision was darkening.
He was going to pass out. He bit into his lip, trying to focus. He couldn’t come this far and fail. Air hissed into him and out again. He could taste blood. He just had to hold on. Just a few more minutes…or so he hoped.
***
The elder demons were moving away now. Four of them lay dead from the Colt. The ground was shaking almost rhythmically.
Sam moved closer to his father. Dean had better finish the fuck up. All this killing was making Sam hungry. And horny.
Sam saw Gordon moving through a horde of vampires, beheading them like it was nothing. There was something about it that was hot. When this was over he wondered if his father would let him have Gordon.
“Head in the game.” John said, hitting his shoulder and then pointing at the hole in the ring where a black dog was getting through.
“Right.” Sam hefted his gun and shot the thing full of iron and salt.
***
The roar and thrust brought dirt raining down on them, even as that cock slammed into Dean and emptied hot into him.
The beast stepped back and Dean slid to the ground.
It was over.
Funny. He didn’t feel any different.
Azazel made a strangled noise and reached for the child. “I’ll be seeing you Dean.”
He was gone. Dean was vaguely aware that the room had gone dark, the candles blown out. The beast lifted him off the ground.
“Most impressive.” He smiled and it twisted his face. “I look forward to your brother’s turn. You will sleep now. When you wake you will be forever in this body. Your father and brother are yours now, as they were once Azazel’s. You will be glorious.”
He held the Seal of Dameron between them. Dean watched it spin, then it was coming toward him. It burned where it touched his skin, at the base of his collarbone, eating into him.
The beast dropped Dean to the ground and was gone. Dean’s eyes rolled closed. He wasn’t even going to try to fight the sleep settling over him. He was too tired.
***
The ground opened.
Everything stopped as the beast appeared.
No one there had any doubt what it was. Older than Azazel and his kin…the corporeal representation of evil itself.
“It is finished. My protection is extended. Disperse.”
It turned to John and Sam. John pressed Sam’s gun down. Together they sank to one knee.
“You are no longer bound to Azazel. Neither are you free. The one who sleeps will awaken and you will be his.”
His hand was on Sam, lifting him. He was smiling at him. “You will be tasty. I look forward to the day you summon me little one.” He dropped Sam and moved away, vanishing between the time John looked at Sam and back.
All around them the bodies of demons and creatures vanished, leaving a handful of hunters getting shakily to their feet, looking around them.
“You gonna explain this Winchester?” Gordon asked as he stalked toward them.
John forced a chuckle and pushed Sam away to do some clean up.
“I guess I pissed someone off.” He pulled a hand over his face. He wanted to go check on Dean, but knew that he needed to handle this first. He’d actually expected them all to die in the fight, or figure out exactly what the fight was about. But he’d chosen Gordon because his black and white view of the world blinded him to an awful lot of gray. “Probably that sonofabitch I put down with Singer a few months back.”
Gordon stopped a few feet away, breathing heavy. “Where’s your other boy?”
John looked around him as if just noticing Dean’s absence. “He was here when it started. Probably around back.”
“What the fuck was that thing?” Gordon was still looking at him suspicious like. John could smell Sam’s desire, knew he wanted to fuck and bleed the hunter. Maybe it was time John let him.
John frowned and shook his. “Never saw anything like it.” And that was the absolute truth. “It ended it though…made them leave. I ain’t about to question that.”
The cloud cover was breaking up and stars started to sparkle in the skies above them. John sighed. “What a mess.” The ground was charred, torn up. Bloody in places.
“Nice defenses.” Gordon hitched his thumb at the remnants of the protective circles.
John shrugged. “Had a bit of warning they were coming. Thought it would be enough.”
Gordon snorted. “Me and my boys will help you clean up.” He shouldered his gun. “You got any beer?”
John smiled and clapped a hand to Sam’s shoulder. “Sure thing. Sam’ll get it right Sam? And check on your brother.”
Sam nodded once, his eyes raking over Gordon before he turned and went into the house. Dean was going to be hungry. The four hunters still standing would make a good offering. He’d let Sam have Gordon. It’d appease him.
***
Dean’s first thought was of hunger. A deep, gnawing hunger in his gut. He lifted his head. It was dark, but he could see perfectly.
He lay where he’d been dropped, in the center of the circle.
His body was still sore, achy…but the searing pain had receded. In fact…he felt stronger, bigger. He stood slowly. He was marked, scarred, but mostly healed.
He cracked his neck.
He could smell his father…Sam…and others. It made his stomach rumble and his cock stir. He stepped out of the circle and waved a hand at it. Flames erupted, erasing the remnants of the ritual, the dead bodies and blood.
In the basement Dean paused. Sam had left him a robe. He pulled it on, his hand brushing over the mark on his chest where the Seal of Dameron had burned into him. The mark was hard, rough to the touch.
Dean smiled and headed upstairs. He needed food. He needed to fuck anything and everything he could get his hands on. He wanted to explore his new world.
***
Sam looked up from his amusement with Gordon’s skin. “Dean’s up.”
His father nodded from across the room. They were both spent, having amused themselves with Gordon while they waited.
Gordon was…well, not spent, but certainly wouldn’t be complaining any time soon. Sam had bitten his tongue off when he wouldn’t stop cursing them. Sam found the noises he made after that endlessly entertaining, especially as he pulled strips of skin from Gordon’s back.
They could hear Dean downstairs, where they’d left the other hunters…trussed up and naked…offerings to appease the hunger and need. The smell moved to them…the sounds of Dean’s fucking and feasting.
They would need to get moving soon. Before hunters started putting it together. They needed to lay low and bunker down for a while.
John could hear Dean on the stairs now, coming toward them. Sam chuckled and leaned in to Gordon’s ear. “You thought I was the anti-christ, Gordie…wait till you see Dean.”
The door opened and for a moment John wasn’t sure it was actually Dean. He seemed bigger, his chest and shoulders larger. His skin was covered in blood and dirt and soot and come. The robe was open, showing off his cock which was hard and red and slick with blood and come. He looked Gordon over, then Sam, licking his lips.
“You holding out on me, little brother?” He moved into the room, lifting one hand. Gordon’s body lifted off the bed, suspended in air.
“No Dean….just waiting for you.”
Dean cocked his head, watching Gordon flail in the air. “Don’t need him.” Dean said and Gordon went flying out the window, the sickening thud coming in through the window as he hit the ground.
He didn’t even look at John, but John’s body moved to him without any effort. Dean’s hand threaded through his hair and pulled his face in close. “He gave you to me…you’re mine now…” His kiss wasn’t hard though, not yet. John let his lips part, let himself melt into the kiss. He could taste the power.
Dean dropped him and pulled Sam to him the same way. “You too…mine…” He kissed Sam and for a minute John thought Sam was going to fight, then he saw his son’s body go limp in his brother’s arms.
“You can’t imagine it Sam.” Dean whispered fervently. “The rush…fuck I feel like I could take on the world.”
John climbed to his feet, smoothing one hand up over Dean’s arm. “The world is ours anytime we want it Dean. But we need to start slow.”
Dean grinned at him. “Gonna build me an army. Gonna leave a trail of babies across the world…raise them up to fuck the world.” He pushed Sam toward the bed. “But right now I’m gonna fuck Sammy until he squeals.”
John watched Dean push and pull until Sam was where he wanted him. Dean’s cock pushed into Sam hard and fast. Sam’s hands fisted in the filthy sheets and John backed off, stroking his own hard on. Dean’s hand reached for him though, and John came, Dean’s hand closing around his cock and pulling until John was kneeling on the bed and Sam’s mouth was closing around him.
Dean petted down Sam’s back. “That’s it Sammy…suck him good. That’s my good little slut.”
John could see bruises all ready forming on Sam’s skin where Dean’s hand held him. Sam’s mouth stretched around John’s cock, his tongue cupped against it. John grunted as Dean’s body pushed Sam into him. He fisted a hand in Sam’s hair and pulled him back, leaning down to kiss him before letting him resume his sucking.
Dean roared as he came, shoving Sam forward as he pulled away and left Sam dripping come. He staggered backwards, his cock still hard. He watched as Sam’s hands came up to hold John down while his mouth worked him over and Dean grinned as John yelled out and fucked up into Sam as he came.
“I’m gonna shower. Load us up. I want to get out of this shit hole.”
***
Epilogue
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 possessive one, unpredictable, volatile…something was very not right with the youngest Winchester the whispers said. The way he touched his brother, the way he leaned into him and whispered to him, the way his hands were always there.
Dean, however, was the quiet one, the one who smiled and girls swooned…the one who followed his father around, who listened and stayed in the background. The one who let his brother drag him along, the one who sat quiet beside his father, the one whose biggest crime was the way he seduced anything that he took a fancy to.
Some might even have pitied him.
Dean rather liked it that way. He sat in the corner booth, Sam all but in his lap. His father was at the bar, talking business with the woman behind it.
A year had passed since they’d left Lawrence. A year in which Dean had grown stronger. “Go get me a drink.” Dean said quietly to Sam, his eyes tracking the young woman as she cleared a table and moved his way. She was fertile, and had already been giving him the eye.
She’d be his third, if he took her. Three women who wanted him, who took what he offered them. Three women he’d left with his seed inside them. He could smell her lust as she came closer.
“Can I get you something, sugar?”
He smiled his most charming smile and leaned back, his cock hard and obvious in his jeans. “No, thanks darling…but I got something for you.”
She grinned and leaned over, giving him a good show of her chest. “I’ll just bet you do.” She glanced over her shoulder, then back at him. “You Winchesters do everything in a pack?”
Dean shrugged. “I got a car outside.”
She was the daughter of a hunter, which should have cautioned him, but he wanted her, wanted to fill her…there was a perverse pleasure in fucking a hunter, even more so with putting a demon baby inside her.
She laughed. “My mother says I should stay away from you. That you’re trouble.”
“My father says I should shave more often and cut my hair shorter…but I don’t always do what he says.”
She ran a hand over his chin. “I like your hair…facial and otherwise.”
He watched her pull her hand back, then leaned toward her. “I want to fuck you in the back seat of my car while your mother and my father talk about some stupid piece of junk and my brother drinks himself into oblivion.”
Her lips brushed his cheek, her breath light against his skin. “Ten minutes.”
She slipped away as Sam came back with beer. Sam watched her, then grinned at Dean. “I’d love a piece of that.”
Dean slammed down the beer. “Maybe next time Sammy. After I get what I want.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Her? Dad’s gonna flip.”
Dean stood and pushed Sam to a seat in the booth.
“Let him. I’m in charge now, remember?”
Sam’s face paled a little and he nodded. The adjustment had been tough on him, and Dean imagined that in three years when Sammy made his ascension, they’d be back to fighting over who got the upper hand. “This shouldn’t take long. She’s ripe.”
Dean swaggered out the front door, feeling the eyes on him. Yeah, he knew what the hunting community saw in them…and for now, it suited him just fine. He’d learned over the last twenty-five years how to bide his time.
The time was coming when the Winchesters would show them all…and in the meantime, Dean was going to enjoy himself.
Title: The Demons Winchester, Part 4 (Prologue, Part One, Part Two, Part 3)
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 scream was deafening, at least until Dean put his hands into his chest, then it became sort of a rumbling, gurgling sound…wet and bloody. Sam might have preferred the screaming…but Dean was rather partial to this…especially when he gripped the edges of the rib cage and pulled.
Bones cracking and blood burning over his fingers.
The priest’s eyes went hard…cold…staring up at Dean with something that might have been forgiveness…if Dean believed that sort of thing. The knife made quick work of the veins and arteries and Dean lifted the heart, still hot, soft and vulnerable…if he squeezed just a little, it would burst open like some ripe fruit.
He stood, blood painting his naked flesh as he left the priest’s carcass on the ground and moved to the altar. He pushed against the muscle in his hand with one thumb, hissing in pleasure as it broke the surface and blood oozed from it. He pulled his thumb loose and poured the contents of the heart into the chalice.
The chalice was already half full of holy water, and the blood darkened as it filled the cup. In one bloody hand, Dean lifted it, the words of the next part of the ritual spilling out of him as he held up the heart and the cup.
He didn’t have to drink it all…just enough. It would be a fight to hold on, to not willingly abandon the body as it filled him. He finished the incantation and brought the chalice to his lips. It filled his mouth, burning and he clenched his teeth together, forcing himself to swallow…swallow…let the burn inside him, into his stomach.
He bit into the heart and swallowed that too…blood and flesh and more burning as it sank into him. Blood smeared over his face, hot and sticky and then he could feel the separation…the body becoming “other”. He forced in a deep breath and held on. This was his body. He’d been born to it.
Fuck.
He’d known it would hurt, but not like this.
He stepped away from the altar, the heart and chalice abandoned in the dirt as he clenched his stomach and fought to stay conscious.
The dark settled in prematurely, the storm knocking daylight out of the sky. They were surrounded now. Humans possessed. Vampires. An assortment of creatures that was impressive.
They clawed at the barriers.
So far it was nothing they couldn’t handle. Azazel hadn’t made an appearance yet, though John had no doubt that he would. He wasn’t a guy who gave up easily…and by all technicalities John and his boys still belonged to the bastard…at least until Dean finished.
Then Dean would be at least as powerful, if not more so, than the old bastard.
And Azazel wouldn’t be able to touch him…not without a fight.
A fight that John would love to see. It would be marvelously bloody.
John pulled his phone out of his pocket and thumbed the number of a hunter he knew was in town. “Hey Gordon, Winchester. Need your help…we’re surrounded. Some sort of demon gathering. Looks messy.”
He pointed Sam at a vampire digging at the outer circle, his hands smoking. Sam blasted him with holy water and he backed off. “Yeah, let me give you the address.”
He hung up and grinned. Marvelously bloody. “Back up is on its way.”
Sam nodded, moving to check the back of the house.
Dean moved through the next complicated steps. There were words and mixtures of herbs and stones and the smell of sulfur filled the air as he moved through it. Sulfur and the smell of his own skin continuing to burn.
He lifted the amulet, smeared blood over it. He moved to the cradle, murmuring the dedication, offering…the boy’s flesh for his own…the boy’s soul in place of his.
The baby’s eyes opened as Dean settled the amulet onto his chest. His skin was soft and white and the smear of blood from Dean’s hands stood out in stark contrast. He lifted a finger to the boy’s face, to his mouth. His lips turned red as he instinctively sucked. He was going to be a strong one.
Dean moved back to the center of the circle and the altar. It was time.
The cauldron smoldered.
Dean’s skin was slicked with sweat, even before he started the hardest part. The candles in the closed space heated the air. It was about to get harder.
He held up the blade as he recited the words. Sliced neatly into the palm of his hand. It was getting harder to move around on his feet. They were burned and blistered. Still, he walked through the pattern Sam had drawn on the ground, bleeding his own blood onto the points before moving back to the cauldron.
The ground was shaking. Dirt fell from above him. Dean fell to his knees, grunting as the pain lanced through him from fresh flesh pressed into the holy ground.
The girl was screaming again. Wind whipped over him, blowing against him. He fought, held himself upright. The noise filled the cavern, wind and wings and screams and he had to force the words out.
An invisible hand was on his neck, pressing him forward. Face first, naked skin pressed into the dirt. He fought, pressed back…but he wasn’t stronger…and it wasn’t until he relinquished, until he stopped fighting and laid himself down that the pressure released.
He gulped air as he finished the chant and one mammoth hoof appeared inches from his face. He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing.
Some part of him had doubted it would work. The hoof hit the ground, shaking the cavern. It was black and darkly wet.
Nails racked over Dean’s back and he fought screaming as his flesh was torn. He had to be quiet until he was given leave to speak.
Sam felt the ground under him shake violently, knocking half the assembled throng to their asses. This was it.
A rush of adrenaline flushed through him. If Dean had gotten that far, chances were good he’d get through it. And if he got through, it Sam certainly could when it was his turn.
Outside the first ring, hunters were arriving, holy water and salt shots ripping through the enemy line. On his father’s side it looked like the ring had broken and they were trickling in to the second line.
So far he hadn’t seen any upper level demons. It kind of surprised him, unless they were just using the others to clear the way. And do far, no sign of Azazel. It made Sam wonder if maybe he wasn’t the big bad demon his father remembered him as.
“I am impressed.”
The voice rumbled through him, shook the world around them. Dean dared a glance up.
Giant, muscular legs began with the massive hooves and rose up to powerful hips and a cock bigger than Sam’s giant dildo. He couldn’t see more than that without moving though.
Dean’s body hurt, though by now the individual pains were lost to the overall symphony of hurt.
“You may continue.”
Dean bowed his head and pushed up to his knees. Next was the girl. He stole a look as he got to his feet. The beast was huge. Arms as big as his legs ending in long black claws…a chest of dark red skin…horns…eyes as black as sin itself.
He swallowed and went to retrieve the knife from the altar, moving swiftly to the girl, who seemed to have fainted. He inclined his head to the Demon and began the words, holding the knife over her.
The first cut was between her breasts, down to her sex, Her eyes popped open and her body shook. Dean sliced open her neck, then both thighs. The smell of blood and internal organs filled the space and the beast moved closer, each step rattling the room. He sniffed the air, orgasmic pleasure on his face as he leaned in. “So beautiful.” He opened his mouth and tasted her, licking up her blood and lifting his face to look at Dean.
“You are one of Azazel’s brood.”
Dean nodded tightly.
He stood upright, his horns scraping at the ceiling above them. “Azazel.”
There was no flash of light, no puff of smoke, just a man suddenly beside the beast. No, not a man. Dean realized slowly. His eyes were yellow and his smile was anything but pleased.
“I should have killed you when you were still a boy.”
The beast chuckled. “Come now Azazel, would you deprive me of one so inventive and beautiful…taste the sin in his skin…” He licked the air, as if he could taste Dean.
“He is mine, as his father and brother are mine.”
“Were yours. This one is now mine. I have accepted his offering. He has but one trial remaining. I did not call you here to dispute his ascension.” He turned to the cradle. “He has brought you a replacement. Take the child.”
Azazel followed his eyes, then looked back at Dean. “I want to watch his final trial. If he survives, I’ll take the child and go.”
The beast smiled, and Dean shivered.
The last trial.
None of the texts said what it was. But the way the beast’s massive hand went to his dick, he got an inkling. He blew out slowly and held up his hands, bowing slightly. He could handle that.
“Let’s do it then.”
John lifted the gun and fired. He had no idea how many hours had passed. The grass was burning, eating toward the house. At least fifteen hunters were on the other side, fighting toward him and Sam. He was starting to see the presence of Azazel’s brethren…he could feel them, trying to reach them.
He dropped the shotgun and its rock salt loads for the Colt. He only had about 8 rounds. But that should handle things. He took aim and fired, hitting the closest of them between the eyes.
Lightning flashed through the skies and in the eyes of the body the demon possessed as he fell to his knees.
One less fucker to deal with.
Dean closed his eyes and swallowed. The beast’s claws dug deep into his shoulder as he was bent over the bloody carcass of the girl. His own cock was back to hard and wanting just anticipating what was coming.
His feet were kicked apart and there would be no prep, no lube, just his ass and that massive cock. He blew out as he felt it, pushing into him.
It was going to rip him apart…and if it didn’t kill the body, Dean would be…immortal. It was a good thing Dean liked pain.
He gripped the edges of the sacrificial altar and tried to open himself up, will himself to relax under the endless onslaught of that cock inside him. His teeth clenched as his orgasm ripped through him and the beast laughed, shaking Dean and the altar.
“He is an eager slut.” He said it to Azazel who was watching closely, probably hoping Dean couldn’t take it…Dean noticed that Azazel’s body was pretty aroused too. “Azazel is only jealous. No one has made it this far since he did.”
Dean swallowed as the cock pulled out of him. It felt like it was pulling his entire insides out with it. “He came three times before I finished with him.”
Dean didn’t think he’d survive three orgasms like this. Then again, as he breathed in, he could smell the girl and the blood and his come, feel the fire of the last of the demon’s blood inside him. Maybe two.
The beast laughed again and quickened his pace. Those claws tightened in Dean’s shoulder and his arm spasmed. He lost his grip on the altar, his arm flopping uselessly against the dead flesh beneath him.
The beast’s hand loosed him, stroked down over Dean’s back, painting him with his own blood. He pressed in and licked over the blood. He switched hands, the bloody one moving to press on Dean’s hip, the other moving to his other shoulder, digging in until Dean let go with that hand too.
“Fuck.” His arms lay boneless at his sides. He was shaking in pain and pleasure, his cock spewing again.
The smell of come was pungent and Dean was vaguely aware of Azazel stroking his own cock now.
The room was quaking as the beast’s hooves beat the ground with every thrust into Dean. His ass was wet and hot with blood. It oozed out of him and down his thighs. His knees gave out and the next thrust pushed him into the wood of the altar, his cock banging against it painfully. His vision was darkening.
He was going to pass out. He bit into his lip, trying to focus. He couldn’t come this far and fail. Air hissed into him and out again. He could taste blood. He just had to hold on. Just a few more minutes…or so he hoped.
The elder demons were moving away now. Four of them lay dead from the Colt. The ground was shaking almost rhythmically.
Sam moved closer to his father. Dean had better finish the fuck up. All this killing was making Sam hungry. And horny.
Sam saw Gordon moving through a horde of vampires, beheading them like it was nothing. There was something about it that was hot. When this was over he wondered if his father would let him have Gordon.
“Head in the game.” John said, hitting his shoulder and then pointing at the hole in the ring where a black dog was getting through.
“Right.” Sam hefted his gun and shot the thing full of iron and salt.
The roar and thrust brought dirt raining down on them, even as that cock slammed into Dean and emptied hot into him.
The beast stepped back and Dean slid to the ground.
It was over.
Funny. He didn’t feel any different.
Azazel made a strangled noise and reached for the child. “I’ll be seeing you Dean.”
He was gone. Dean was vaguely aware that the room had gone dark, the candles blown out. The beast lifted him off the ground.
“Most impressive.” He smiled and it twisted his face. “I look forward to your brother’s turn. You will sleep now. When you wake you will be forever in this body. Your father and brother are yours now, as they were once Azazel’s. You will be glorious.”
He held the Seal of Dameron between them. Dean watched it spin, then it was coming toward him. It burned where it touched his skin, at the base of his collarbone, eating into him.
The beast dropped Dean to the ground and was gone. Dean’s eyes rolled closed. He wasn’t even going to try to fight the sleep settling over him. He was too tired.
The ground opened.
Everything stopped as the beast appeared.
No one there had any doubt what it was. Older than Azazel and his kin…the corporeal representation of evil itself.
“It is finished. My protection is extended. Disperse.”
It turned to John and Sam. John pressed Sam’s gun down. Together they sank to one knee.
“You are no longer bound to Azazel. Neither are you free. The one who sleeps will awaken and you will be his.”
His hand was on Sam, lifting him. He was smiling at him. “You will be tasty. I look forward to the day you summon me little one.” He dropped Sam and moved away, vanishing between the time John looked at Sam and back.
All around them the bodies of demons and creatures vanished, leaving a handful of hunters getting shakily to their feet, looking around them.
“You gonna explain this Winchester?” Gordon asked as he stalked toward them.
John forced a chuckle and pushed Sam away to do some clean up.
“I guess I pissed someone off.” He pulled a hand over his face. He wanted to go check on Dean, but knew that he needed to handle this first. He’d actually expected them all to die in the fight, or figure out exactly what the fight was about. But he’d chosen Gordon because his black and white view of the world blinded him to an awful lot of gray. “Probably that sonofabitch I put down with Singer a few months back.”
Gordon stopped a few feet away, breathing heavy. “Where’s your other boy?”
John looked around him as if just noticing Dean’s absence. “He was here when it started. Probably around back.”
“What the fuck was that thing?” Gordon was still looking at him suspicious like. John could smell Sam’s desire, knew he wanted to fuck and bleed the hunter. Maybe it was time John let him.
John frowned and shook his. “Never saw anything like it.” And that was the absolute truth. “It ended it though…made them leave. I ain’t about to question that.”
The cloud cover was breaking up and stars started to sparkle in the skies above them. John sighed. “What a mess.” The ground was charred, torn up. Bloody in places.
“Nice defenses.” Gordon hitched his thumb at the remnants of the protective circles.
John shrugged. “Had a bit of warning they were coming. Thought it would be enough.”
Gordon snorted. “Me and my boys will help you clean up.” He shouldered his gun. “You got any beer?”
John smiled and clapped a hand to Sam’s shoulder. “Sure thing. Sam’ll get it right Sam? And check on your brother.”
Sam nodded once, his eyes raking over Gordon before he turned and went into the house. Dean was going to be hungry. The four hunters still standing would make a good offering. He’d let Sam have Gordon. It’d appease him.
Dean’s first thought was of hunger. A deep, gnawing hunger in his gut. He lifted his head. It was dark, but he could see perfectly.
He lay where he’d been dropped, in the center of the circle.
His body was still sore, achy…but the searing pain had receded. In fact…he felt stronger, bigger. He stood slowly. He was marked, scarred, but mostly healed.
He cracked his neck.
He could smell his father…Sam…and others. It made his stomach rumble and his cock stir. He stepped out of the circle and waved a hand at it. Flames erupted, erasing the remnants of the ritual, the dead bodies and blood.
In the basement Dean paused. Sam had left him a robe. He pulled it on, his hand brushing over the mark on his chest where the Seal of Dameron had burned into him. The mark was hard, rough to the touch.
Dean smiled and headed upstairs. He needed food. He needed to fuck anything and everything he could get his hands on. He wanted to explore his new world.
Sam looked up from his amusement with Gordon’s skin. “Dean’s up.”
His father nodded from across the room. They were both spent, having amused themselves with Gordon while they waited.
Gordon was…well, not spent, but certainly wouldn’t be complaining any time soon. Sam had bitten his tongue off when he wouldn’t stop cursing them. Sam found the noises he made after that endlessly entertaining, especially as he pulled strips of skin from Gordon’s back.
They could hear Dean downstairs, where they’d left the other hunters…trussed up and naked…offerings to appease the hunger and need. The smell moved to them…the sounds of Dean’s fucking and feasting.
They would need to get moving soon. Before hunters started putting it together. They needed to lay low and bunker down for a while.
John could hear Dean on the stairs now, coming toward them. Sam chuckled and leaned in to Gordon’s ear. “You thought I was the anti-christ, Gordie…wait till you see Dean.”
The door opened and for a moment John wasn’t sure it was actually Dean. He seemed bigger, his chest and shoulders larger. His skin was covered in blood and dirt and soot and come. The robe was open, showing off his cock which was hard and red and slick with blood and come. He looked Gordon over, then Sam, licking his lips.
“You holding out on me, little brother?” He moved into the room, lifting one hand. Gordon’s body lifted off the bed, suspended in air.
“No Dean….just waiting for you.”
Dean cocked his head, watching Gordon flail in the air. “Don’t need him.” Dean said and Gordon went flying out the window, the sickening thud coming in through the window as he hit the ground.
He didn’t even look at John, but John’s body moved to him without any effort. Dean’s hand threaded through his hair and pulled his face in close. “He gave you to me…you’re mine now…” His kiss wasn’t hard though, not yet. John let his lips part, let himself melt into the kiss. He could taste the power.
Dean dropped him and pulled Sam to him the same way. “You too…mine…” He kissed Sam and for a minute John thought Sam was going to fight, then he saw his son’s body go limp in his brother’s arms.
“You can’t imagine it Sam.” Dean whispered fervently. “The rush…fuck I feel like I could take on the world.”
John climbed to his feet, smoothing one hand up over Dean’s arm. “The world is ours anytime we want it Dean. But we need to start slow.”
Dean grinned at him. “Gonna build me an army. Gonna leave a trail of babies across the world…raise them up to fuck the world.” He pushed Sam toward the bed. “But right now I’m gonna fuck Sammy until he squeals.”
John watched Dean push and pull until Sam was where he wanted him. Dean’s cock pushed into Sam hard and fast. Sam’s hands fisted in the filthy sheets and John backed off, stroking his own hard on. Dean’s hand reached for him though, and John came, Dean’s hand closing around his cock and pulling until John was kneeling on the bed and Sam’s mouth was closing around him.
Dean petted down Sam’s back. “That’s it Sammy…suck him good. That’s my good little slut.”
John could see bruises all ready forming on Sam’s skin where Dean’s hand held him. Sam’s mouth stretched around John’s cock, his tongue cupped against it. John grunted as Dean’s body pushed Sam into him. He fisted a hand in Sam’s hair and pulled him back, leaning down to kiss him before letting him resume his sucking.
Dean roared as he came, shoving Sam forward as he pulled away and left Sam dripping come. He staggered backwards, his cock still hard. He watched as Sam’s hands came up to hold John down while his mouth worked him over and Dean grinned as John yelled out and fucked up into Sam as he came.
“I’m gonna shower. Load us up. I want to get out of this shit hole.”
Epilogue
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 possessive one, unpredictable, volatile…something was very not right with the youngest Winchester the whispers said. The way he touched his brother, the way he leaned into him and whispered to him, the way his hands were always there.
Dean, however, was the quiet one, the one who smiled and girls swooned…the one who followed his father around, who listened and stayed in the background. The one who let his brother drag him along, the one who sat quiet beside his father, the one whose biggest crime was the way he seduced anything that he took a fancy to.
Some might even have pitied him.
Dean rather liked it that way. He sat in the corner booth, Sam all but in his lap. His father was at the bar, talking business with the woman behind it.
A year had passed since they’d left Lawrence. A year in which Dean had grown stronger. “Go get me a drink.” Dean said quietly to Sam, his eyes tracking the young woman as she cleared a table and moved his way. She was fertile, and had already been giving him the eye.
She’d be his third, if he took her. Three women who wanted him, who took what he offered them. Three women he’d left with his seed inside them. He could smell her lust as she came closer.
“Can I get you something, sugar?”
He smiled his most charming smile and leaned back, his cock hard and obvious in his jeans. “No, thanks darling…but I got something for you.”
She grinned and leaned over, giving him a good show of her chest. “I’ll just bet you do.” She glanced over her shoulder, then back at him. “You Winchesters do everything in a pack?”
Dean shrugged. “I got a car outside.”
She was the daughter of a hunter, which should have cautioned him, but he wanted her, wanted to fill her…there was a perverse pleasure in fucking a hunter, even more so with putting a demon baby inside her.
She laughed. “My mother says I should stay away from you. That you’re trouble.”
“My father says I should shave more often and cut my hair shorter…but I don’t always do what he says.”
She ran a hand over his chin. “I like your hair…facial and otherwise.”
He watched her pull her hand back, then leaned toward her. “I want to fuck you in the back seat of my car while your mother and my father talk about some stupid piece of junk and my brother drinks himself into oblivion.”
Her lips brushed his cheek, her breath light against his skin. “Ten minutes.”
She slipped away as Sam came back with beer. Sam watched her, then grinned at Dean. “I’d love a piece of that.”
Dean slammed down the beer. “Maybe next time Sammy. After I get what I want.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Her? Dad’s gonna flip.”
Dean stood and pushed Sam to a seat in the booth.
“Let him. I’m in charge now, remember?”
Sam’s face paled a little and he nodded. The adjustment had been tough on him, and Dean imagined that in three years when Sammy made his ascension, they’d be back to fighting over who got the upper hand. “This shouldn’t take long. She’s ripe.”
Dean swaggered out the front door, feeling the eyes on him. Yeah, he knew what the hunting community saw in them…and for now, it suited him just fine. He’d learned over the last twenty-five years how to bide his time.
The time was coming when the Winchesters would show them all…and in the meantime, Dean was going to enjoy himself.
