deansdamnation
deansdamnation:

deansdamnation:

Smile for the camera, Sweetheart


You’re tired. 
You’re so tired you can hardly keep your eyes open. There is blood running down your torso, to mingle on the floor with the rest of the visceral fluids. There is a shooting pain right behind your left eye, and a throbbing ache in your wrists from where you’ve been hanging by them for hours… days… weeks… you don’t know anymore. 
For now, your breathing is slow and somewhat relaxed because he’s not here. He’s left you in this dark place, smelling of yourself and iron. You never knew the human body could withstand so much. You never thought you would become a demon’s plaything. But here you are. 
The footsteps down the hall instinctively have you on edge then. Your spine stiffens, and the chains binding you rattle as you pull on them in desperation to get away. You’re breathing faster now. You’re going to throw up, pass out, or at least you hope you do. Then maybe this will end. 
But then the door opens and there he is. 
The demon, admittedly handsome, who had been torturing you for hours, weeks, months, days, years, you just don’t know anymore, stands in its place. He’s smiling and in his hands is a video recorder. You frown, flinching away when he comes too close, that smile, or maybe it’s a snarl, plastered on his perfect lips. 
"Hello, Sweetheart," he purrs. "You ready to smile for the camera?" He holds it up, and the light flashes, indicating that he is now filming you. 
"Please, I just want to go home-" you beg brokenly, which is how you normally beg him. He hardly ever acknowledges you when you speak, since this is all for his amusement. "Please-" 
He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m gonna keep you here. Now smile for me.” 
You don’t smile. 
"Do it… or we’ll just have to play more games, Sweetheart. Do you want-" 
You smile, cutting him off mid sentence and he smiles back. It’s forced and fake, but at least you’re smiling for him. 
He - Dean, his name is Dean - grins, lopsided, attractively. If he hadn’t been a demon, determined to torture you to death, you would have asked him out on a date. He was absolutely your type… but dating a demon from Hell just didn’t seem like a good idea… or the kind of guy to bring home to Mom and Dad. Not to mention he’s a sadist. 
"There you go," Dean praises, as if you’ve done something truly amazing. "Good. Very good. Just keep smiling, Sweetheart." 
And you do. 

edit by me
fic by unholyseraphs

deansdamnation:

deansdamnation:

Smile for the camera, Sweetheart

You’re tired. 

You’re so tired you can hardly keep your eyes open. There is blood running down your torso, to mingle on the floor with the rest of the visceral fluids. There is a shooting pain right behind your left eye, and a throbbing ache in your wrists from where you’ve been hanging by them for hours… days… weeks… you don’t know anymore. 

For now, your breathing is slow and somewhat relaxed because he’s not here. He’s left you in this dark place, smelling of yourself and iron. You never knew the human body could withstand so much. You never thought you would become a demon’s plaything. But here you are. 

The footsteps down the hall instinctively have you on edge then. Your spine stiffens, and the chains binding you rattle as you pull on them in desperation to get away. You’re breathing faster now. You’re going to throw up, pass out, or at least you hope you do. Then maybe this will end. 

But then the door opens and there he is. 

The demon, admittedly handsome, who had been torturing you for hours, weeks, months, days, years, you just don’t know anymore, stands in its place. He’s smiling and in his hands is a video recorder. You frown, flinching away when he comes too close, that smile, or maybe it’s a snarl, plastered on his perfect lips. 

"Hello, Sweetheart," he purrs. "You ready to smile for the camera?" He holds it up, and the light flashes, indicating that he is now filming you. 

"Please, I just want to go home-" you beg brokenly, which is how you normally beg him. He hardly ever acknowledges you when you speak, since this is all for his amusement. "Please-" 

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m gonna keep you here. Now smile for me.” 

You don’t smile. 

"Do it… or we’ll just have to play more games, Sweetheart. Do you want-" 

You smile, cutting him off mid sentence and he smiles back. It’s forced and fake, but at least you’re smiling for him. 

He - Dean, his name is Dean - grins, lopsided, attractively. If he hadn’t been a demon, determined to torture you to death, you would have asked him out on a date. He was absolutely your type… but dating a demon from Hell just didn’t seem like a good idea… or the kind of guy to bring home to Mom and Dad. Not to mention he’s a sadist. 

"There you go," Dean praises, as if you’ve done something truly amazing. "Good. Very good. Just keep smiling, Sweetheart." 

And you do. 

edit by me

fic by unholyseraphs