Demon!Dean Winchester

He slams you against the wall, a hand around your throat, and his body holding you in place. Dean's face is inches away from yours, his whiskey scented breath fanning over your lips. He tilts his head, a sly smirk on his lips, and a condescending look in his eye. He speaks in a degrading tone. Where. Is. The. Book? Come on, sweetheart, use that pretty little brain of yours.