Title: Revenger Is Sweeter Than You

Author: constipatedsam

Word Count: 896

Request: (I don’t remember if i requested this or not so sorry if I already did) A Demon!Dean x Demon!Reader where they both get stuck in a devils trap at the bunker (Either Sam did it for kicks or he isn’t there and they walked on it by accident) so they are stuck in it for awhile and it get really fluffy between them? Love you!! - godstiels-fallen-angel

Trigger Warnings: Cursing, Sexual Situation

A/N: I may have distorted the meaning of ‘fluffy’ a little bit

Fic:

      If you were to imprison a moonstruck, lackadaisical murderer in a room with the remains of something that haunted him to his core, you would in turn receive a disconcerted and furious criminal. He would have many stranger’s and friend’s blood on his hands and in his own soul, yet surrounding him with that one memory that he had never been able to overcome would shake his bones. Every theoretical culprit including myself and you even, have our own memories that we wouldn’t want to face no matter the situation. There could be a gun positioned against your head, and you still wouldn’t face it. You weren’t being followed by memories, rather a person, more or less. Your past thought had green eyes, the kind that seemed like they were scanning your soul for it’s previous sins whenever he gazed in your own pupils. His touch was something that was unfathomable because it could make any creature fall to his finger tips, die from the peck of his own lips. There wasn’t a sliver of humanity located within his vessel at this point unless it was stocked deep down in his heart, yet he was still able to feel like a human: be a human. When he had first turned, it was a frightening sight to witness because that precious love and protection that was programmed within him as if by a computer program that God made himself was extinct. He would kill on a whim, whether to get himself released from the hunger of blood or just for plain amusement. It was a sickening time until his inner self began to reconnect with how he felt as a human and with the help of Castiel, he was able to have emotions once again. He was a complex memory that you had escaped for so long, but you couldn’t avoid him now. A devil’s trap was your cell and the precious paint on the floor were the bars that held you there. The wooden floors of Bobby’s house were familiar to you, but you didn’t anticipate a trap underneath his trusty rug in the study since you had walked over it many times with no problem. So there you were, held hostage in a demonic trap along that memory who was sitting with his legs crisscrossed as if he planned to stay there for a good while, kick back and drink alcohol out of a coconut. You on the other hand had your arms crossed as you stood near the outskirts of the circle, waiting for someone to arrive to get you out of the uncomfortable predicament. Your legs turned slightly, just enough so your eyes could be brought to his figure that was rested so comfortably.
      His eyes glared up at you, the irises in his whites lighting up from the lights above. A devilish grin was painted across his face as the situation was the obvious artist that had created the obnoxious smile. “Oh, come on, Y/N. This isn’t too bad. You and me alone in a room together. We haven’t been this close since the summer of '69,” His arms threw behind him as he propped his midsection up, examining your body with his possessive eyes.
      The Y/E/C orbs on your face rolled as you took a few hesitant steps towards him, not letting your arms down. Your heart felt like it was about to burst each time your heel clicked with the floor, but you continued to waltz over to his body. “You weren’t even alive in the summer of '69, your moron. I should know. I’ve been kicking since the slaves were freed,”
      He raised his brows in defeat as he twisted his body towards you, making sure his abs were visible through the outline of his shirt. He may have been a douche bag, but he was the hottest damn one you had ever seen. It almost made you forget that he once tried to sacrifice you to pull Adam from hell in some odd ritual he had found. You were still scorned over that, but you tried to shove the anger to the back of your demonic little mind. “Well, I know something else that used to make you kick,” He mumbled as he bucked his hips slightly in a suggestive manner, licking his lips. A sly grin was playing on his lips as it faded abruptly when you forced him to the ground, the wooden floor colliding with his back. Your legs were bent so you were on your knees and your arms stretched out as you were crouched over his body. Your chest was pumping wildly whether from irritation or from the sudden lunge, you weren’t sure. What you were sure of was that he was going to pay for trying to rid you from the world for the sake of a pathetic human, a Winchester at that. His lips melted into yours as you harshly mixed yours in with his, feeling him crumble with each touch your gave him. Your plan was simple: make him fall in love, then make him fall in death’s grips. It might be hard because his brother was protecting him at every which way, but Dean Winchester was going to know what revenge felt like whether it be from the loss of his brother’s life or his own.