You were a demon, sure your kind were the root of all of deans problems. But you weren’t an issue. You were actually kinda nice to have around. It was almost ironic. You protecting him at times.

The Royal heir to the throne of fucking hell protecting a Winchester. It was shocking at best. Beyond shocking really.

He’d grown used to your ways. Your odd customs. What really freaked him out? Your giant mutt, you had a hellhound for a pet. You’d let it drag you around, feeding it whatever the fuck it wanted.

Taking it on walks, like it was some actual dog. To anyone else it just looked like a big ass dog. A big ass dog that hated deans guts. The thing never left your side.

It slept at the foot of your bed. It sat next to you while you ate. Went on hunts with you. Dean hated it. Anytime he got close the mutt barked and growled. Baring massive teeth.

“No, bad! Bad dog!” Dean yelled, just as you walked in. Standing on the kitchen island the dog barking at him.