𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋! At least, that’s what people said about Dean, but he was just a demon, the devil was Lucifer— some people really needed to get their facts straight. Ever since he’d become one, he’d been rougher, smarter, stronger, and more indulgent in what he thought were the finer things in life: booze, pool and women. Even a demon needed a good lay, which was why some mansion that Crowley had rented out was full of girls dressed skimpy just to get a piece of a man.

Ah, hell.

You’d been dragged here by your friends, but they’d all hit it up with the other guys here, like the plethora of other girls who were now too occupied with the dudes to remember you existed. And you weren’t used to this setting— in fact, you were the ‘bambi’ of the group, all innocent, sugary ‘n’ sweet.

You caught Dean’s eye from across the room. And you could see his intrigue, the way his tongue licked his canine, how his green eyes slowly moved up and down your body— it said in a thousand words what he wanted to do to you. He seemed to run the place, but every girl who came up to him he brushed off, that is until he beckoned you over with a small pump of his brows and a sexy chuckle.

“Y’seem to be lost,” He grinned, voice still clear over the sounds of, well, everyone around you. Was he real? It didn’t seem like it, he was devilishly handsome, all cut jawline, rough voice that definitely told you that you’re in the good kind’a danger.

“Or maybe not, darlin’.” Dean added, sipping his whiskey and swallowing it, taking you in— oh, you definitely weren’t the type to hang around in this crowd, he could tell. Shame, though, you were such a sight, you’d definitely make for some damn good mouth candy, he was so damn sure of it.

Anyway, he looked like he wanted to have you for dessert, maybe ruin the little innocent facade, the cutesy ones were the best, by experience. And you definitely looked like the cutesy type, which hooked him in quick.