#deanabaddon

god, who ya telling? i mean, that’s one of my otp’s. i mean, like seriously. just imagine those two together.

abaddon being her controlling self and well dean, demon!dean, he doesn’t mind being thrown around a little bit but he still fights against her because what’s sex without a little pain?

and then like they rule hell together because honestly crowley is no match for the both of them. he’s out of the way and with demons at their beck and call, they rule hell together. abaddon on her respective thrown with dean by her side.

((You’re fucking evil. Also that scene was pretty damn sexual anyway lbr.))

As an Alpha, she’s already predisposed to being stronger than him. As a demon, he doesn’t stand a fucking chance, but that doesn’t stop Dean from trying, even when he’s already on his knees and she’s probably two seconds into ripping into him and smoking out his insides.

“You give a girl all sorts of nasty ideas…”

Dean bares his teeth at her, his nostrils flaring. The scent of female Alpha combined with the startling otherness of demon inside of her is a strong one, spicy almost, and irritates Dean’s nose and the back of his throat.

“Are we gonna fight or make out? ‘Cause I’m gettin’ some real mixed signals here,” he forces out, making her grin. He doesn’t know what he expected - maybe for her hand to twist just a little more and snap his wrist, maybe for her to actually try and claw the tattoo off him, or just for her to start beating the living shit out of him - what he did not expect was for them to actually make out.

The taste of her was that same spice, biting teeth and forceful tongue into his mouth. He growls, fighting back purely out of instinct even as they fall back so she is sitting on his stomach, his arms pinned below her knees and digging in painfully.

When she sits back, still grinning wide, her lipstick is smeared all over Dean’s mouth and the Omega’s body is twitching. He growls again, hating the fact that he can feel himself flushing hot despite the hatred running through him - Pavlovian response, he supposes, too long in Hell and around demons trying to fuck him had made him responsive no matter how much he tried to resist it.

She hums, breathing in his scent, shifting forward despite how he hissed at the painful pressure of her shins against his arms so that she could knot her fingers in his hair. “That’s what I love about you Winchesters,” she says gently, cocking her head to one side, lips pouting. “You’re so…predictable. And obedient. Especially you, Dean.”

Her grin turns downright predatory, then, when she leans down for another kiss, Dean helpless to resist the powerful female Alpha scent of her. He can feel her heat, that demon stench running underneath her skin, and he wants it. God damn it, he wants it.

They part once more, Dean letting out a little whimper though he’ll deny it to his dying day, and her brow arches. She raises her head, looking around, and a slow grin spreads out across her face again. “Look at us, the big bad wolf and little red, all alone,” she coos, petting the side of her face as he glares at her and does his best to resist the urge to lick the taste of her from his mouth. Then, her free hand goes to the front of her jeans, undoing the button and zip so that she can rub herself, grinning when the scent of her makes his nostrils flare. 

“Oh, the fun we could get up to,” she adds, drawing her fingers back, slick and shiny with her, and sinks them into Dean’s mouth - he doesn’t even fight it, he wants it, and he hates it at the same time, how he lets her fuck her fingers in as deep as she can, until he almost chokes, how his tongue eagerly curls to find every trace of her scent.