likely_evil | In Which there is Blood...

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In Which there is Blood...

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I hate you.

Sam was angry. He was very angry and he didn't know what to do with that emotion. It was like a fire in him and he couldn't stay still. He wanted to go into a tree but he couldn't sit still. He wanted to hide in the Impala but Dean would find him. So he just kept walking, not caring where he went but he had to keep moving or he was going to do something he didn't want to do.

"Hey, watch where you're going, G!" A man in an oversized hoodie and low hung jeans shouldered Sam as he walked by, then turned around and yelled at Sam. The two men who were with him turned as well, smirking.

"You watch where you're going. You're the one who hit me," Sam stated over his shoulder, but he kept walking.

"Whoa, hold on a sec. Don't you be disrespecting me, boy." The thug grabbed Sam's shoulder and spun him around to look into his eyes, the gasped at the blackness. "What are you, some kinda freak?"

There was a deep hiss from Sam's throat and his hands clenched into fists. "I'm not a freak," he growled. And then he moved quickly, grabbing the arm on his shoulder and twisting it around. The bone snapped easily as the thug cried out in pain.

The two friends instantly moved to aid the hurt on, but Sam made quick work of them. Fists flew and Sam kept hitting until there were broken bones and blood covering his fists from the faces of his victims.

The rest of the gang appeared from the shadows and Sam just tilted his head. This felt good. It felt right. This is what his angry part wanted to do and he just smirked at the rest of the gang as they surrounded him. His eyes watched the chains and the knives come out of pockets and he just lowered his center and hissed softly.

"Let's show this freak who's boss."

They didn't realize they were going against a demon, and a demonic Winchester at that. They never stood a chance as Sam moved through them like a hot knife through butter. And he was laughing as he took them down. His hand wrapped around a knife at one point and the punching and kicking turned to deadly slicing and stabbing. Soon, Sam was covered in the blood of the gang members as one by one, they fell to his feet struggling for life.

"FREEZE!"

Sam held his arm up to block the bright light of the cop car's spotlight. The police officer had his gun aimed at Sam, but Sam could taste the fear rolling off him. "Drop the Knife!"

"Why would I do that?" Sam asked. He lowered his arm and started for the cop, standing tall.

"DON'T MOVE!"

"What are you gonna do? Shoot me?!" Sam taunted, taking another step closer. He tilted his head, a sick smirk on his lips.

Two gunshots rung out and Sam felt them impact into his chest. He staggered back a few steps but remained upright. His head snapped back to looking at the cop and he snarled. "That wasn't nice."

He took aim and threw the knife, and it embedded itself in the cop's throat. Before the cop managed to stagger back into his seat, Sam moved and was in front of him, pulling the knife out and stabbing the cop again and again in a frenzy.

He didn't stop until the cop stopped moving, and he stood up and wiped his arm across his face, then licked the blood that was on his lips. And then he started to laugh because it felt so damn good.

Sam finally felt alive.

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Once he started to get with the program, she went with him, tearing at the shirt until it was being forced off his shoulders and the skin was exposed. Once he started tearing hers off, she started to back towards the bed, pulling him with her as she nipped at his lips in the kiss.

He followed her, pushing her onto the bed before crawling on top of her. He didn't care if his bullet wounds were still dripping blood on her body, or that he was half covered in the blood of others. He wanted to follow this urge and she was going to damn well serve his needs.

She didn't particularly care about the blood either. In fact, if anything it turned her on more. It just added another sensation to the whole thing. It was a different kind of friction and made the whole thing a little more messy and depraved and that was how she liked it.

She just pulled him in closer when he crawled over her, her fingers digging in to his skin as she pushed closer, letting her body press up closer to hers.

His hands moved, taking off the rest of the fabric between them and not caring much for the condition they would be in. Finally he pinned her to the bed, wedgeing his body between her legs and thrust himself deep into her hard.

As he did that, he bent over and bit her neck, not aiming to draw blood but to leave a mark of dominance. She wanted him to take her, and he was doing it and he would make sure the bitch remembered who the hell was the powerful one here.

Her nails dug in to whatever skin there was when he thrust into her, back arching off the bed with a moan. That plus the bite on her neck was enough to give a bit of a growl, pushing back against it. If he wanted to dominate here, he was going to have to earn it, and power was only going to get him so far.

She had been doing this a lot longer than he have, and she had a trick or two of her own up her sleeve.

He wasn't caring about getting her off. This was all about him and sating his lust. His thrusts were hard and fast and not at all caring about her more than just a body in a bed. If she got used too quickly, he'd just go find another.

But right now she was open and hot and he was taking her. As he got closer to his edge, he gave a soft groan, his breath speeding up and his hips pounding into her even harder.

It wasn't the actual physicality she was getting off on, it was the way he was just taking what he needed. The power that lay under his skin and how he was using it. And when his speed picked up, she shifted her hips to move with him just enough so that he was hitting that spot inside of her, intentionally or not, and soon she was flying over the edge, her body trembling under him.

She didn't let herself lapse, though -- benefit of being a demon was that she could separate the two. Her hips continued to meet his rhythm, looking to pull him with her.

When he finally hit his edge he gave a strangled cry, his teeth gritted as he emptied himself into her. But he wasn't done yet, and he stayed hard in her. But they needed to move. Something different.

"Turn over," he ordered, and didn't wait but instead pulled out of her and went to grab her hips. "On your knees."

She did as she was told, rolling over and bracing herself on her knees, before glancing back at him over her shoulder. "Like this?" she smirked, rolling her hips back against his as she waited for him to climb over her again.

He slapped her ass, then grabbed onto her hair and pulled on it roughly as he thrust back into her. "I'll say one thing, you are an obedient little bitch," he growled into her ear.

Her head fell back with the yank and she grinned, rolling her hips with his as he thrust inside her. "I am when it gets me what I want."

"I don't care what the fuck you want," he pointed out, tugging her hair. "This is about me, not you."

"Oh, it's always been about you, Sammy," she said with a grin, shifting her hips a bit and arching her back with a heady moan as he continued to thrust into her. "But that doesn't mean I can't get mine too."

He just kept going until he hit his edge again and released into her, then he pushed her away into the headboard and got out of the bed, looking for his clothes. He was sated now, and wanted to hurt things again.

She turned around to watch him, smirking slightly as she did. "Running out already?"

"I'm done." It was that simple as that to him. He found his pants and looked them over, seeing that they were still in one piece... well, minus the top button... and he started to put them back on.

"So what're you gonna do now?" she asked, her hands trailing down her body slowly, just basking in the sensations while she tried to figure out what he was up to.

"Whatever I want." He looked around for his shirt, wrinkling his nose when he saw the state of it. "I'm a bad thing after all. I should be doing bad things."

A slow grin stretched across her lips, and she pushed herself up a little more. "I have an idea. If I can play."

He turned to look at her, then shrugged. "Whatever."

She snorted slightly at that, before reaching for what was left of her clothes. Pants were still mostly in one piece, thank whoever for that, but her shirt was a lost cause. She then headed towards the drawers, hoping whoever was staying here at least had something relatively attractive.

"Tell me -- you strong enough to walk on hallowed ground yet?"

He tilted his head, curious. And getting excited in just what she might be plotting. "I don't know. Why?"

"Guess we'll figure it out then," she said with a nod, grabbing one of the t-shirts frown the drawer and pulling it over her head. It hung a little baggier than she would have normally liked, but it would do for now. She was only going to get blood on it anyway.

"And if you're not -- well, I could always go in and run 'em out for you."

He thought for a moment. Hallowed ground meant a graveyard or a church. Castiel might get mad at him...

No, he didn't care because he hated them because they were mean to him.

"Fine." He started for the door, not bothering to find another shirt or put on his shoes again. He felt better with just his pants on. He could move better.

Ruby kept after him, before reaching for his arm to stop him. "Slow down, buddy. Don't even know where we're going yet."

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