Spoilers: indirect for season 9 ep King of the Damned

Warnings: blood, violence, Wincest

Disclaimer: Spn is not mine

Blood will be shed

Abaddon's footsteps echoed through the stone hall, as she walked with confident strides toward the throne. She knew her place after all.

No one dared to stop her. No one even dared to meet her eyes.

No one, except for the demon king, who was seated on Abaddon's throne. Chosen by Azazel himself he had mastered astonishing powers, that was for sure, but even in his wildest dreams he was no match for a knight of hell, and he had to be aware of that fact.

But the king did not avert his gaze, instead he was seemingly trying to stare her down and to hide his fear, but Abaddon was not falling for it.

She returned the look and didn't even try to hide her amusement, unable to take him serious but she did appreciate his entertainment value.

Still, the time for games was over.

"The queen is back.", she said in her silky, seductive voice, that sent shivers down the demons' backs. They were still indecisive, only devoted to the strongest of them all. A bunch of traitorous scum. They knew exactly whom their loyalty belonged to.

"Resign from the throne, demon boy, or blood will be shed."

The demon king answered with a bloodthirsty grin, his eyes turning yellow with desire and viciousness.

"Believe me, I can't wait to taste your blood."

Abaddon's cold laughter resounded from the walls.

"Dream on. I'm untouchable." She walked closer, gracefully and unintimidated.

The king just raised his arm and all the demons tensed with panic in their eyes. Their king was cruel, ruthless and lethal.

Abaddon was frozen in place and for a moment the time stood still. This could be the end, if Abaddon shared the same pathetic fate as Lilith and imploded helplessly under the simple gesture of the king.

But then her blood red lips curled into an ugly sneer and the moment was already over.

"See? Untouchable", she whispered. She kept on walking, completely unscathed, and Sam Winchester could do nothing to stop her.

His own subjects fell down on their knees in front of his enemy. They had already given up on him, and Sam had to face his demise entirely on his own now.

Abaddon gathered all her powers, ready to crush Sam like a fly. The last seconds of his life passed by and his only hope left was…

"Stay right where you are, bitch."

Abaddons steps came to a sudden halt, rage and disbelief distorted the pretty face of her vessel.

She turned around to face the brother of the demon king, to look at him like he was some disgusting insect she'd like to squash.

He just looked back, grinning smugly and with bloodlust in his eyes.

"Dean", Sam said, his voice deep and content, like a master praising his servant but Dean saw right through his mask and saw the relief, gratitude, love…

"You're late"

"Don't worry, my king. I'll take care of that bitch."

He held the blade in his hand, and on his arm the mark of Cain was glowing. The lust to kill, to tear flesh apart, to shed blood was written on his face.

Abaddon tried to stop him, but her powers were useless against him.

The world around him lost its meaning as Dean rammed the blade into Abaddon's pretty body, over and over again. Her screams of pain were intoxicating, he bathed in her blood, enjoyed the bestiality of it, became addicted to it as he stabbed into her dead flesh, never stopping, again and again and…

"That's enough, Dean!"

His master's voice soaked through the dust into his mind and brought Dean back into the present.

For a moment Dean seemed lost and confused as he sat on the cold stone in front of Abaddon's corpse, unable to move.

All eyes were on him, full of respect, fear, hunger…

Dean could only see the eyes of his brother, calm, hypnotic and commanding.

He couldn't look away. He knew what his king demanded.

He stood up and carefully picked up the corpse from the ground. He carried her in his arms like his bride to the throne and offered her to Sam like a sacrifice.

He laid her down on the king's lap and watched as Sam pressed his mouth against her throat to give in to his own addiction as he sucked the still hot, delicious blood out of lifeless veins.

Dean watched him, got hard, felt his blood rushing downward. He shuddered with hot desire and lethal jealousy.

"Enough", he said through clenched teeth, his whole body shaking.

There was no helping it. Sam was his and Dean's blood belonged to Sam. In this equation was no place for intruders.

Sam looked up, took in the state of his brother and parted his bloody lips from the shredded throat with a noise that brought Dean's lust to kill to life again.

In the split of a second the dead body was shoved aside and Dean captured his brother in his arms.

Lips met and pressed against each other. Dean tasted the blood on them and groaned.

He forced his tongue through those lips into his brother's mouth and tasted all the blood that wasn't his. Dean growled hatefully, grabbed Sam even tighter to make it hurt and pressed his whole body against him, so that Sam could feel Dean's hard cock against him.

He knew that Dean would show him whom he belonged to and Sam would let him. Right here on the throne that was rightfully his, in front of the demons that kneeled down before the Winchester brothers, while they kissed, touched and breathed each other in shamelessly.

"I'm gonna fuck you, Sammy. Hard, just the way you like it", Dean muttered with his lips still pressing against Sam's.

Sam couldn't restrain himself from biting those lips to let warm, willing blood pour into his waiting mouth, but Dean didn't mind at all.

Clothes were ripped apart and revealed naked skin. Greedy hands reached out for hot touches and blood streamed over Sam's face, dropped on Dean's body, mixed with sweat, the blood of Abaddon and soon enough with other body fluids.

Sam's teeth broke through Dean's flesh several more times, making him groan from pleasure and pain, while Dean thrust deep into his little brother, keeping his promise and fucking him hard and relentlessly.

Soon Dean only tasted himself and his brother in their mouths, not a trace of the bitch, whose blood would make Sam stronger than ever, but also etched in Dean's mouth like acid.

The though of her made Dean's thrusts go even harder and Sam's deep, lustful screams cheered him on.

Sam came first and Dean followed soon after, shooting his come deep inside his little brother.

Out of breath they clung to each other. In the aftermath they took their time to caress the other one with more tenderness, to enjoy the feeling of each other. More loving, but no less possessive kisses were exchanged.

Neither of them wanted to let go yet, both of them still too addicted and to dependent on the other one.

Lost in their drug, the other one's breath, the taste of skin, blood and sweat, they knew no hurry.

No one would dare to interrupt them. No one would ever dare to try to separate them.

Everyone knew it would end deadly.