Title: Let’s make a deal
Characters: Dean, fangirls from Hell (the Special One), appearance by Sam.
Genre: crack, implied Wincest in a funny way (coz I want you to read it even if your not into the Wincesting)
Disclaimer: Hey Kripke - possession is nine tenths of the law. Ask any demon.
Summary: Dean has to bargain with three demon!fangirls.
Dean Winchester stood with a straight back, shotgun to his leather clad shoulder, his luscious lips turned down in a frown. He was surrounded by demon fangirls straight from the Special Hell, their eyes glowing in a particularly pretty shade of coral pink.
“What do you want?” he growled.
“Ohhh baby, no foreplay?” The demon who spoke was small and blonde, hair so carefully styled she obviously had a curling iron in her Bratz backpack. She smelt of sulfur and bubblegum and looked like she hadn’t eaten since the Crusades.
Let’s call her Jo.
With a cocky tilt of his head Dean asked, “Okay skank, what’s you name? Do you come here often? How would you like to die?”
“Darling even your pretty tongue couldn’t get around our names.” Demon number two was stunning, with hair that spoke of good conditioning and skin the color of soy chai latte. But there was something dead in her eyes and something not human in her voice. Something that made all that beauty not sexy in the least.
The closest translation of her name into a human tongue would be “Nzzc%^kjjjsdhrtflo*8sina”.
We’ll call her Cassie.
“Dean. “The third demon walked around him, looking him up and down appraisingly. “That centerfold spread in Demon Hunter’s Quarterly did not do you justice. And,” she smiled lustily “that huge machete hardly covered a thing.”
She had auburn hair and breasts like ripe mangoes. Not that Dean had ever actually seen a mango – ripe or otherwise. They tended not to stock them in mid-Western Mini Marts. A bright intelligence shone in this demon’s face, her voice was sultry and she moved with a lithe grace that spoke of extreme sexual athleticism.
Let’s call her Missy J.
“Guns and knives on the floor please Dean,” ordered Missy J with a sassy smile that made Dean instantly hard. He lowered his shotgun, and deposited a machete, a revolver, four sporks, a chainsaw and a set of steak knives onto the dusty floor.
“Squee!” squeeed Jo and dogs within a ten miles radius howled in pain. “Oh look at Deano handling his WEAPONS!”
The Cassie!demon ran a finger over her lips. “Mmm you’re pwning the hand porn Dean. And the finger porn.” She grasped his hand and brought it to her mouth, sucking a finger between her lips.
Dean shuddered. It was like poking his finger into roadkill.
“No eating before work,” frowned Missy J, who was always thinking ahead. “We have a bargain to make here.”
“Let’s make a deal is it?” asked Dean cockily, “Or as my man Jack would say You can’t handle the truth!”
“Don’t think you can distract us with random pop culture references!” warned Jo as she popped a bubble of green gum.
“Our offer is this Dean.” Cassie stepped forward. “John Winchester. We will give you your father back. Three day growth and bad parenting skills intact.”
“What’s dead...”growled Dean.
“…should stay dead. Yeah Dean, we’ve got the t-shirt.” Missy J rolled her eye. “But that’s not true, is it? I mean Paris Hilton’s acting career aside.”
“And what will it cost me bitch?”
“Oh do you kiss your brother with that mouth?” asked Jo. The three demon!fangirls giggled in unison.
Cassie shushed the others. “There are some things we would like you to do Dean. With Sam. Nekkid. While we watch.”
"And with John, " whined Jo. "You promised me Daddy!kink."
Suddenly, from the back pocket in the faded denim jeans that hugged his ass, Dean pulled out a crucifix.
“Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde…” he intoned.
“ZOMG he’s doing Latin!” Jo’s eyes were wide. “I’ll be in my bunk!”
“I think my ovaries just esploded!” exclaimed Cassie.
“So not fair Dean! How can we force you into a soul-stealing bargain when our girly parts are all wet?” cried Missy J.
“..in nomine Dei Patris Kripke omnipotentis, et in noimine Live Journal ejus …”
With a sweeping gesture, Missy J threw Dean across the room and slammed him into wall. The wall looks suitably pleased and pressed up against him.
“Guh,” guhhed Cassie in a voice that sounded gritty with grave dirt. “Wall sexin’ is sooo hot”.
Dean moved forward, crucifix in hand.
“…et in TWOP ...”
Suddenly the door was flung open and a huge hulking giant filled the door. He was seven foot tall, long limbed, thighs as thick as tree trunks, a neck nothing could choke and it looked like a yak was humping his head. His face was twisted into the horrid rictus; something Dean called his bitchface.
It was Sam Winchester.
In two strides Sam was in the centre of the room facing Dean.
“Man, three chicks? That’s impressive even for you!”
“They’re demon!fangirls dude,” replied Dean, “Where’s the coffee?”
“Yay,” cheered the demon!fangirls in unison, “SamandDean!!!!”
“Dude,” said Sam, eyes moist. “You didn’t, you know, make a deal with them?”
A muscle in Dean’s cheek twitched, his bottom lip wibbled and a single tear spilled down over his frackles as he looked over his right shoulder into the middle distance.
In one motion Sam wrapped his arms around his awesome big brother and drew him into a close, comforting embrace.
As Dean raised his arms to hug his younger sibling, the three demon!fangirls uttered the biggest, loudest, earpiercingest SQUEE ever heard in this world or any other.
And promptly esploded leaving only three puddles of goo on the floor.
Dean pushed Sam away from him. “Bitch”
“Jerk,” said Sam. “I saved your ass.”
“Well you know my ass belongs to you.” Dean tossed his keys to his brother, “Wanna drive?”
“Only if you suck me off with that perfect cocksucking mouth,” Sam smirked.
Dean arched a sculpted eyebrow. “Now that’s deal I will make little brother.”