Chapter Text
I nudged open the door with my boot. A short creak made me wince as I checked my grip on the machete I carried. I let out two breaths and heard no noise. I stepped through the door with trained stealth.
There was nothing to see, just some typical bedroom furniture covered in dust sheets so
I let out a breath and relaxed my shoulders a little. Feeling a little less rigid, I lowered my weapon and stepped further into the room for a final check behind furniture and a check out of the window. That’s when I heard the soft click of the door latching closed. I whirled around, bringing my blade back up as my heart began hammering in my chest, a staccato beating out fight or flight, fight or flight, fight or flight.
“Hello, darling.” The British accent laced with his signature mix of seduction and danger crooned as I took in the figure dressed in dark suit and tie casually leaning against the now closed door.
“Crowley, what are you doing here? We’re on a hunt, I almost decapitated you!” The words came out quick and half an octave too high as I was still recovering from the shock. Crowley simply raised an eyebrow and chuckled, I was no risk to him. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again as we heard a crash from the lower floor of the house, some shouting and the obvious sounds of an ensuing brawl.
I stepped towards the door quickly, my intent to leave, but instead of moving out of the way, Crowley simply caught me by my arms and held me still, his face mere inches from mine.
“Vampire nest? The Chuckle Brothers are big enough to look after themselves. I have more important matters to discuss; You hung up on me last night.” He blinked and his eyes glowed a hellish red colour, the sight causing my breath to catch in throat and eyes to widen. The fear response to seeing his demonic side was natural, but the hardening of my nipples in my bra and the tingling between my legs was not.
“I... I” I stammered, the quickening arousal mixed with fear had me unable to find the words.
He was right. He had called me to check up on me, the kind of thing that a regular boyfriend would do, but Crowley wasn’t a regular boyfriend. Regular boyfriends take their girlfriends on dates, hug them, kiss them, take them to meet their parents, are human. Crowley’s the freaking King of Hell, a demon and a total sadist, both generally and sexually. He loved to inflict pain and to humiliate. Fortunately for me, I’m a masochist. I was attracted to Crowley and the danger he presented from the moment I saw him. it was months of pretending to hate him, pretending that he was a threat to humanity before I finally caved and threw myself at him when he caught me alone and a little drunk. I just couldn’t help myself, his threats always bordered seduction and I couldn’t tell if he was threatening to gut me or fuck me, but whichever one it was, I just wanted him to do it hard.
Looking back, I know it was an incredibly stupid thing to do. There was absolutely no indication that he would actually fuck me as he would flirt-threaten with anybody and everybody, but like I said, I’d had a few to drink and I guess I was feeling pretty horny this one particular night. I only vaguely remember him describing something pretty nasty that he could do to me and I asked if that was a promise before taking off my shirt and giving over complete control to him. Oh boy was I relieved when he fucked me harder than I’d been fucked before. The shock came a few days later when he came back for more.
Crowley wasn’t exactly fond of me going hunting, he would say that I was his and only he could hurt me. He was even less fond of the company I kept. In a typical Crowley power-play, he was trying to get me to talk dirty to him while I was in a tiny motel room with Sam and Dean Winchester, my hunting partners and patchwork family. He wanted to remind the boys of the arrangement between he and I, and he wanted to do it in a way that would cause them the most discomfort possible. I took a calculated risk and ended the call first. I knew there would be consequences, I just didn’t know he’d deliver them in the middle of a hunt.
“Crowley, Sam and Dean were in the room, you know that. We were making a plan for the hunt, I couldn’t do that. Please Crowley, I should go help!”. But my pleading fell on deaf ears.
Crowley slid his hands slowly up my arms to my shoulders, allowing me a moment to feel his warmth. In the next moment gripped me tight and whirled us both around so I was now up against the door and he was holding me firmly in place.
“I don’t like being hung up on, love, you must have known there would be.... punishment.” He paused dramatically before the final word, then launched himself onto me, pressing his body against me as he kissed me hard. His mouth covered mine and his tongue began a relentless assault against my own. He rotated his hips to grind his crotch against mine, making me feel the hardness concealed within his dress pants. I was used to such treatment, used to being forced to submit at any given moment, used to being moved from whatever mood I was in to sudden arousal, so I simply remained pliable and let the pleasure from the rough treatment wash over me.
Stepping back, Crowley undid the fly on my jeans and unceremoniously tore both them and my panties down to about mid thigh height, then reached for his own pants, unzipping them and pulling out his thick cock in his fist. The tip was already slick as he stepped forward and thrust just far enough to touch my clit, but not far enough to enter me. He forcefully pushed my shoulder back against the door as he used his other hand to guide his cock to thrust against me, rubbing his tip back and forth against my clit over and over. The sensation had me panting and close to the edge in no time. I shifted my feet to open my legs as far as I could while still being restrained by my own jeans, tilting my hips to allow him more access, eager for more, eager for release. I was almost there, my vision narrowing, his back and forth motion blurred into a singular pressure, building towards my climax, just a little more...
Crowley stopped thrusting against me abruptly, the hand holding me against the door grabbing my panties and stretching them out as his other hand pumped his cock to spill cum into my underwear. I was feeling riled up from the sudden orgasm denial so all I could do was watch as he finished, carefully pulled my panties and jeans back into place, then tucked himself away. From the tightness of my jeans, I could feel the hot wetness sliding into my crevices, creeping up both front and back.
“Wha....?” I struggled to find the words through my frustration and confusion.
“I just wanted to make sure you think of me, darling.” He smirked, looking very pleased with himself. “Oh, and if tweedle dum and tweedle dumber ask where you’ve been...”
A sudden pain stung across my face leaving my cheek and lip stinging. My hand shot to my face instinctively and came away bloody. It dawned on me that Crowley had hit me with his power and split my lip.
I simply looked at him, stunned, as he placed a bloodied machete, my machete which was previously clean, in my hand.
“A rogue.” He said and nodded to the floor on my right. I followed his gaze and saw a decapitated vampire.
The fog in my mind cleared a little and I was about to protest against his striking me, but his hand shot out and grabbed me by the throat, cutting off my airway, and therefore my words, and slamming my head back against the door just hard enough for some of the fog to return. He kissed me roughly making my injured lip throb agonisingly before he simply vanished into nothing.
It was a moment before I was aware of footsteps in the hall outside the door I had been pressed against and there was only a moment to jump away before it was thrust open by Dean, who barrelled through while calling out my name.
“You OK? You’re bleeding!” His gruff voice snapped me out of the rest of my shock.
“Uh yeah, a rogue.” I gestured towards the body on the floor.
“Nice. C’mon, let’s get some ice on that before it bruises.”
Dean briefly looked over the rest of my face before he gave one final wince at the state of mouth.
He turned around and marched down the hallway towards the stairs and all I could do was trail after him out of the house and into the shiny, black muscle car sitting outside, Dean’s beloved Impala, while Crowley’s slick gift caused an odd discomfort with every movement.