#buckfreqky

"It reeks of sulfur here, Dean." Sam choked out, pointedly covering his nose with his shirt to get the smell of rotten eggs out of his airways.

"Well we know it's definitely a demon killing all these people. Question is, why?" Dean said, standing up from his previous position, leaned over a freshly gutted young man.

Sam hummed in thought, nodding to the officer on duty. "This definitely isn't the work of a hellhound, and I don't think Crowley wants to risk sending out demons to kill so– well, haphazardly." He said, walking towards Baby.

"So what do you think? Demon gone rogue?" Dean asked, following suit, loosening the burgundy tie hung around his neck.

Around two days ago, the two boys had gotten a call from a hunter positioned in the quaint city of Corvallis, Oregon, home to the Oregon State Beavers. Apparently, some sort of entity was slicing and dicing civilians in the area, leaving no sort of trace of human malice. Unfortunately, their informant and fellow hunter, James, had been injured in a wendigo hunt north of Portland and was pretty much bedridden, so the boys were first on his list to call.

"Well, I don't see any sort of other way that these killings could happen so that's our best guess." Sam said, shaking his head as he got in the car. "I just don't get why a demon would do this. None of the victims have anything in common, apart from going to OSU, and that isn't enough to base any sort of real connection out of."

Dean sighed, turning on the ignition, Baby roaring to life. "Alright, we'll head back to the motel, you hit the books, I'll call up Bobby to see if he has any sort of clue as to what the hell is going on here."

"Oh I'm sure the boys are on my trail by this point. That, or I've completely overestimated their competence– which, by the stories that I've heard of the Winchester boys, could either be completely possible, or not at all." You said into the cellphone, eyes on the sleek black car rolling out of the sorority driveway, sarcasm quite evident in your tone.

"No, they haven't tried anything yet. I'll update you if they get close."

The demons Crowley had chosen to be his so-called "Second in command" were the most daft, incompetent pieces of shit you had ever had the displeasure of dealing with. Why Crowley thought he was too prestigious to deal with you himself, you had no idea. This all would go so much smoother if you didn't have to relay messages through each one of his minions.

Your next target was Seth McFarlane, a 20 year old college student at Oregon State University. Seth was a great kid– 4.0 GPA, on the football team, had a girlfriend and his whole life planned ahead of him. The perfect candidate. You had to throw the boys off obviously, with your previous targets all being men who had "enemies" that they needed to be taken care of. You came to them, offered them a way to rid themselves of these enemies, with no cost at all, then had those boys killed at the same time the deal was made.

All of this needed to lead back to you. Which is why you didn't bother trying to stop the trails of sulfur left in your wake after your kills. You wanted to meet the famous "demon killing" boys after all. Poor Seth was just– collateral damage.

"Hey, Dean, Bobby give you anything useful?" Sam spoke, head not moving from the screen of his laptop as the door to the motel swung open.

"He's just as lost as we are. Brought back some food." He said, dumping a plastic bag full of greasy burgers and fries on the table Sam sat at. "What about you, any luck?"

"Well, kind of. So get this, our most recent victim, Elijah Lopez, had a pretty well known fallout with a fellow teammate on the college football team, where that teammate just so conveniently got mauled by a 'bear' quote unquote. And both victims before him also had feuds with someone in their lives, whether it be an ex-girlfriend, or a petty coworker." Sam said, looking up, only to search through the bag for anything even remotely not covered in grease.

"And?" Dean said, yanking the bag away from him, handing him a different, less oily looking wrapped burger.

"And, so all of their enemies ended up passing away tragically at least a week before the victim died." Sam turned the laptop towards Dean so he could see what Sam dug up.

"The demon Malphas. She makes a promise to rid you of your enemies, killing them, and later on the person that made the deal with her." Sam said, unwrapping the veggie burger Dean specifically bought for him.

"So, what's the catch for her deals? Does she tell the poor guy that makes the deal with her that they're gonna end up demon chow or what?" Dean turns the laptop back towards Sam, bringing out his own dinner from the bag.

Sam shakes his head, "Well, obviously not. The deal is way too good to be true, so I'm guessing the catch that she doesn't tell you, is that you'll be dead within weeks of your enemies death. The killings have to be Malphas– the sulfur left at the scenes can't lead to anything else but the work of a demon, so who else could it be but her?"

"Huh. So what's our plan to gank the bitch?" Dean says, muffled over the sound of him scarfing down the double baconater burger he'd bought for dinner.

Sam once again turns the laptop towards Dean, trying to avoid it touching any of the sauce dropped out of his burger. "Well, she can be summoned by drawing this sigil, etched in copper, and burning an offering."

"What kind of offering?" Dean asks, worried that it'll be his head offered up on a plate for her.

"Any sort of valuable gift. Apparently she isn't picky." Sam says, snatching the laptop away before Dean could put his nasty, burger grease fingers on it.

"Right. So what's the plan?"

You could feel yourself being summoned. Just a few seconds longer and you could see who it was. You were obviously hoping it was one of the Winchesters, or even both the boys for an extra treat.

Ah yes, Dean Winchester, the aforementioned Demon Killer. The tall one was nowhere to be seen. Oh well, one is better than nothing.

With a big puff of smoke, you disappeared from the warehouse you were squatting in, only to be greeted by the walls of another dirty, dingy warehouse.

"Malphas?" Dean asked cautiously, portraying the role of civilian whom stumbled upon a way to rid of his enemy well.

"Oh please, don't call me that. I didn't get to choose that name, you know? Satan gave it to me. I was never really quite fond of it. Doesn't have a nice ring to it." You sigh, as you figured Dean would not be getting straight to the fighting part.

"Oh– right then. What do I call you then?" He asks, taking a small step back as you step out of the sigil marked on the floor.

"Whatever you like, darling." You smiled. "Now, what can I do for you, gorgeous?"

Something happened to Dean when he heard the word "gorgeous" come out of those beautiful lips you had. Or rather, the beautiful lips of the meat suit you'd stolen for this interaction. Whatever it was, it provoked some sort of reaction from him.

"I uh, heard you could help make some... people in my way disappear. For a long time." He said, pulling out a tattered library book with your sigil at the front.

"Hmm- yes. That is true. But that's not why I'm here, is it?" You say. You could hear Sam and some other hunter, presumably their mentor, Robert Singer, outside the door to the warehouse behind you.

"I- what?" Dean asked, trying to mask the confusion in his voice at your words.

"Oh please Dean. I'm not stupid." You laughed as the doors to the warehouse tore open, Sam and Bobby running in to take you by surprise. Only to disappear.

"What the hell?" Dean's eyes widened, hands reaching behind his back for the demon blade. No demon could do that to someone, right? In all their books about demonology and the beings of hell, never had it ever said anywhere of making people vanish out of thin air.

"Where the hell did you send my brother?" Dean almost growled, pulling the blade out from where it was hidden.

"Oh, not far. Just in a little town somewhere in... I think it was, Rhode Island? Not too far." You grinned.

Rhode Island was on the complete other end of America.

"How did you do that?" Dean asked, taking a step towards you, blade out.

"Hmm, lets not waste time on things that don't need time wasted on, shall we?" You said, not moving an inch as Dean moved to inevitably kill you. Or, give it his best shot at killing you. 

“My boss, Crowley, has taken a special interest in you two boys. And I was tasked with tricking you two to bring you back to him. Whether it was whole, or in pieces, he didn’t quite specify. That part was uh, left to me.” You say, walking around Dean, as he grips the blade tightly in his hand. 

“So that’s why all the killings started. These boys didn’t even summon you, did they?” Dean asked, the pieces all clicking into place.

“Mmm, yes. I showed up to these boys in the form of their deepest desires, and asked them myself if there was anyone I could ‘take care of’ for them.” You admitted to Dean. “The– clause in the contract was not necessary to discuss.”

The intensity of your gaze made Dean want to shrink, not that he would admit that to anyone, much less himself. You were a filthy demon, who had also just sent his brother and the closest thing he had to a father to God knows where.

You never took your eyes off Dean’s, not even to look at the blade gripped in his right hand that could so easily take your life, if Dean were to successfully use it on you. 

“So you just killed those kids? Aren’t Crowley's demons supposed to heed to his ‘contracts’?”

“I don’t like taking orders. Especially not from Crowley, no. Hell has been in chaos ever since Lucifer got sent to the cage. Not that I particularly enjoyed old Lucy’s company either. But he was more lenient towards me, seeing as to how loyal I once was to him.” You rambled on, stopping in front of Dean.

“But between us, I never really liked him either. Now that he’s gone, Crowley really has no control over me, so I can kill whomever I want, whenever I want. And have some fun along the way.” You say, stepping closer to Dean.

“And, I haven’t really had some fun in a while, Dean.” Your hand moves to take the blade out of his hand, retracting back to your side as he jerks it in front of him in defence.

“So tell me Dean. What’s your deepest desire?” You asked, eyes becoming pure black as your tone dropped lower, tilting your head to the side. 

“Is it… for you and little Sammy to be ‘normal’? No… you gave up on normal a long time ago. Or is it–” Your words get cut off as you feel the cold, sharp edge of the demon blade pressing up against your throat, making you sandwiched in between the warmth of Dean’s body and the cold, steel walls of the warehouse. 

“Shut up, bitch.” Dean says, with an almost dangerous edge to his voice.

“Hmm, Sam is a touchy subject for you.” You smirk at the shocked look on his face once he realizes that the only object keeping him from having a chance against you has disappeared out of his hand. He immediately takes a step back from you, the pressure on your body gone.

“What the hell are you?” He says, backing up as you push off the wall, dusting yourself off.

“You know what I am, Dean. You’ve just never dealt with someone as– different as me before.” You say as the black in your eyes disappears. “Now, back to my question.”

“What is your desire?”

You.

The thought left as quickly as it came into Dean’s head, but by then it was far too late. 

“Me? Really? And here I thought a Winchester would never think this way of a demon.” You say, stepping close to Dean. 

“But your mind fights it. Because I’m a dirty, filthy demon. The scum of the Earth. And you’re so angelic yourself. Something like me could never corrupt a pure soul like yours.” You speak, tone taking on a mocking edge as your hand moves to grip Dean’s face to tilt his head down to look directly into your eyes.

“Don’t you want to feel free Dean? I’m sure I can’t ruin you as much as you have done so to yourself. Your soul is tattered. Give in to something you finally deserve.” You say as your other hand comes up to caress his cheek.

“No– You’re–” Dean’s words get cut off as you press your lips to his in an almost searing kiss, something lighting in Dean that he almost had never felt before. This was so, so wrong. You were right, you were a demon, and the thought of your lips on his was almost revolting. But then why did he enjoy it so much?

He walked you back till your back hit the steel wall where he had held you up almost minutes before, your hands threading through his hair, tugging on it when he bites your lip. The moan he let out was filthy, and it sent feelings through your meat suit that made you crave more. 

Your hands trailed down his body, reaching down to the buckle of his belt. “Now I don’t have much time to make this a whole thing Dean…” You say, as your hands unbuckle the belt, zipping down his jeans. Dean could barely get words out, the feeling of your hand in his hair, lips against his, and now your hand on his aching cock almost too much for him already.

He managed out a half moaned “okay”, before he assisted you with pulling his pants and boxers down, his length springing out, the tip leaking with pre-cum. Your legs wrapped around his waist as your hand went around his cock to give it a few teasing pumps as your tongue slipped into his mouth, his own hands moving to hold you up against the wall. He moaned into your mouth as you moved it up and down his length, his right hand moving to the zipper of your jeans.

He unzipped your pants and your hand retreated from around him, earning a whine from his mouth. 

“Shh, don’t you wanna finish inside me?” You asked, moving your fingers to his jaw, your index and middle finger slipping inside his mouth as he moaned, nodding yes. “Mmm, that’s what I thought.”

You allowed Dean to slowly slip his cock inside your dripping wet pussy, moaning at just the tip as his hands tighten around your thighs, still holding you up. He thrusted in and out of you, the noises falling from his mouth getting louder in volume as he began to speed up. Your hands found their way back into his hair, tugging as the pressure in your lower stomach began to build up.

“Fuck– I’m gonna..” Dean panted.

“Shh… it’s okay.” You cooed, your own hand going down to your clit to add more stimulation for you. “You can come darling.”

As those words left your mouth, Dean came inside you, letting out a guttural moan as his head dropped down to your shoulder, his own seed inside you triggering your own orgasm. 

And you were gone. Dean’s head was suddenly resting against the cold wall you had rested against, his hands empty of your warm body. He turned his back to the wall, eyes still shut to come down from the high he was just on.

Sam and Bobby. 

His eyes shot open, and he quickly zipped up his pants, looking around the warehouse for you. But you were gone. And his demon blade lay in the middle of the sigil he had drawn for you, what seemed to be ages ago for him.

He had to go find Sam and Bobby.

At least you told him what state they’d be in.

2:43pm — Common Room (English)

Scott Barringer was bored out of his mind. You couldn't blame him, really. Roger really knew how to make an English lesson boring.

As part of the curriculum at Mount Horizon, the Cliffhangers were currently undergoing their Shakespeare unit in English. Which, unfortunately meant reading the entirety of Romeo and Juliet.

The last thing Scott wanted to be doing on a snow day of all things. Outside, a fresh sheet of snow had just fallen, covering each building, path, and tree in a pure white coat.

Inside, it was warm— the huge fireplace doing it's job well enough for you all to not be able to feel the cold whatsoever.

"Hey-" Scott quietly tried to get your attention from next to him on the big couch. No response.

This reading would contribute to an end of semester test, requiring you to finish the whole book to be adequately versed on each question. You desperately needed to up your English grades if you wanted to get out of here.

"Come on, I know you're listening." He said, beginning to nudge your arm with his elbow.

Ugh. The Barringer persistence. The moment he had his mind set on something, (which he obviously does right now) there would be no end of it until he got his way.

"Oh my god Scott— what is it now?" You say, peering over your copy of Romeo and Juliet to find the blonde giving you the kicked puppy look.

"I'm bored."

"Are you kidding me—" a quick pause to pretend you were reading as Roger does a round of the room. "Yeah, it's silent reading, no shit it's boring!" You whisper-yell once he leaves.

"Then let's leave!" He said, making it oh so obvious that he wasn't reading right now, causing Roger to turn around and give him the "look".

Quickly picking up his book and pretending to read, he continued. "No one's gonna notice if we slip out of here for a bit."

"Scott– I need to finish this book. I also want to get an actually good mark this term, so stop bothering me." You say firmly.

Which doesn't work on him. How nice.

He now results to the tactic of annoying you for attention. Kicking your foot with his, tapping on your thigh, sighing just audibly enough for you to hear.

"Scott. Stop it. Seriously." You say, putting the book down.

"Come outside with me. Then I will."

"Scott— I just told you I won't!"

"Please.. just for like a bit. I swear to you, ill spend however long you need to finish this book with you tonight during our free time." He pleaded.

And maybe it was working. A small break now couldn't hurt. And you could always finish reading tonight.

"I just wanna spend time with you... you're always sooo busy now."

And finally, the guilt tactic.

"I am not busy— Ugh. You know what. Fine." You cave in.

"If we get caught, im saying you forced me, and you can sit alone cleaning the kitchens."

The grin that spread across his face was so apparent, you'd think he just won the lottery or something.

And so, after a long time of waiting for Roger to turn around, he grabbed your hand and practically dragged you out of the commons. Thank god that none of the people in the Cliffhangers were snitches.

Making it out of that room was like a whiff of freedom for Scott.

Then the chill hit.

Scott, being Scott, decided he didn't need another jacket, a sweater would suffice.

You saw the way his cheeks and nose turned red, and the slight shivers that ran through his spine.

"Feeling a little cold are you, Barringer?" You tease.

"Hah, no way. Come on." He lies, taking your hand in order to distract you. His freezing cold hand.

Rolling your eyes, you followed, stuffing the other hand into your warm, insulated, jacket that you were smart enough to wear.

You eventually figured where he was taking you, down a small path that lead to the creek, and a shabby, makeshift soccer oval.

Making it down, the creek was frozen solid, and the goalposts had a layer of snow covering up the metal.

Searching around in the snow, Scott finds the dingy soccer ball discarded from the last play, and throws it at you.

You, observing the lovely scenery– is snapped out of it by having a snow covered ball hurled at your back by your incredible boyfriend.

"What is wrong with you??" You say, bending down to pick up the ball with your now gloved hands. Your smartly gloved hands. Because you weren't stupid and knew it would be cold out.

"Let's play. Just casual." He grins.

"No chance. Last time I saw you play 'casual', Ezra ate the ground, and Auggie refused to play again because you kept tackling them." You say, arms crossed.

"Oh come on, I'll go super nice on you. No touching, and I'll let you have the ball after every goal." He says, taking a few steps towards you in order to snatch the ball out of your hands.

"Please? First to 10. And you start with an extra 2 goals." He said, setting the ball down in the middle.

"God— fine. But if I end up on the floor, or in any way covered in snow, im never playing with you again." You sigh, walking over to the center.

"See, this is why I love you." Even after a while, the words still brought a grin to your face.

"Alright. Don't be too angry when I beat your ass." You say, standing at the ball.

"Uh.. yeah... okay." He says in confidence.

———

7 goals to Scott.

2 goals to you. The two that you got as a headstart.

Your cheeks were flushed, nose red, and your head was even more determined to score.

Looking up as you set down the ball for another round, you see Scott shiver again.

"The cold finally getting to you?" You ask again, knowing he'd say no.

"Not at all. You're seeing things. Maybe its to cope with losing so badly to me." He says as you scoff.

Once again, you kick the ball towards his own goal, dribbling towards his end, when as usual, he steals the ball off you.

But this time, (by pure accident) your reflex to get it back actually worked, your leg darting out to get it back from between his feet.

Kneeing him in a place that... probably hurt a lot for a specific reason.

"Augh!" Scott involuntarily voiced, doubling over, as you took the opportunity to kick the ball towards the goal.

And it went in.

"Yes!!" You screamed, arms raised. You paid no mind to the boy behind you currently keeling over in soreness.

"I scored!" You say, facing him and jumping up and down and clapping.

"—yeah—ow.. you did. I— ow. I see that." He managed to say.

Still reveling in your victory, you leave Scott to brood (in pain) opting to go retrieve the ball instead.

"Wanna go another round?" You say, standing over him, ball in hand.

"No thanks." He groans, standing up straight.

"Right, because I'm so good, you're scared to play with me again." You nod.

"No, thats not—"

"Right, right, I know. I'm just too good!" You grin, walking back to your goal.

"What, I don't agree with that! You—" He said.

"No need to hide it, it's alright, I know how you truly feel— hey!" A snowball to the back of your head.

Turning around in utter offense, you see him coming closer with another snowball.

"No— Scott stop, I don't wanna get—"

Smack.

"Okay that's it." You say, using your gloved hands to scoop up your own ball of snow.

"Hey, wait, I'm not wearing a jacket!" He panics, coming towards you.

"You should have thought of that before you threw that at me." You say, throwing it at his chest.

He didnt stop walking.

"Scott, don't even try it."

"Scott, I'm serious."

"Scott stop—" And you both were on the ground.

"Get off me! You're so heavy." You say, trying to roll him off, then realizing he wasn't wearing anything warm to face the snow in (stupid boy), and deciding to accept your fate.

"You're really warm. And cuddly." He said, resting his forehead on yours.

"Because I actually choose to wear appropriate clothing for the weather, Scott."

"Yeah well. I don't need to. I can just hug you or something."

"That's not how this works."

"Alright. Then push me off." He says.

He knows you won't.

"That's what I thought."

"So that's where you two ran off to." The unmistakable voice of Sophie rung out.

"I hope this little escape was worth scrubbing the kitchen floors for a week." She says, before turning off and returning to her duties.

"You're kidding me." Scott groans, rolling off you.

"I hate you." You say, sitting up.

"No, you don't."

"—I don't."

tags: @deathyriver @verysynical @wayneics @herrschersankta @seventeen-x @deftttones @cucumbermel @aetherialgeek @loliskywalker