Supernatural Imagines [ABANDONED]

Stockholm Syndrome

As promised, the results of my winter break free time.

Dedicated to the requester.

Lucifer x Reader

2057 words

~

Here's the question of the day: why is it that every damn demon that just so happens to have the stones to drag itself from the hairy flaming armpits of hell has absolutely no concept of dental hygiene?

The demon inhales deeply through his nose and exhales slowly through his mouth, a self-satisfied smirk twisting his lips. You jerk your head away. Buddy. C'mon.

"Mmm," The demon overexaggerates a sensual moan at your evidently intoxicating scent. "I can smell the blood already."

I'm not one for kinkshaming, pal, but murder porn? Really?

Of course, on any normal occasion you'd be voicing these sarcastic thoughts out loud like the witty little shit you are, but silence is golden and duct tape is silver, and you are royally fucked.

You watch the demon eye your jugular and roll your eyes. You read books? Because boy have I got a four-book young adult series by critically acclaimed author Stephanie Meyer for you.

The demon has this rolling metal tray like some sort of sadistic surgeon. God, could this get any more by the book?

The demon unfolds a leather pouch and begins making this huge show of extracting tools and placing them on the metal tray. He bends over in front of you so that he is eye level with you and begins talking to you like a four year old. "Now, you're going to tell me what I need to know, or I'm gonna make you, m'kay?"

He reaches up and rips the duct tape off your mouth. You work your jaw, trying to relieve the slight sting from the whole ripping thing. "Thanks so much, man," you say. "Now if you could be a peach and untie my arms, too, that'd be great."

The demon doesn't reply, only holds up a wicked, twisted knife.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, buddy. Alright, I'll talk." You hold up your hands in peace, or rather just bear your palms by bending at the wrist, seeing as your forearms are tied to the arms of the chair. "Colgate has the best whitening, but if you want a minty mouth, go for Listerine. That's all I know."

Without a word, the demon flips the knife between his fingers and thrusts it suddenly into your thigh. You scream in surprise and pain. "My god," you gasp. "You really go from zero to sixty, don't you?"

"Where's your friend?" the demon demands.

"Which one? I have lots of friends you know," you sass weakly, your snarky tone slipping due to the searing pain in your-

"Gyyaaaah!" You scream as your black eyed pal twists the knife deeper into your thigh. "Jeez! I don't know who you're talking about, okay?"

"Don't play dumb," Black-eyes spits. "We know you run an underground railroad for people running from us." You want to feel your heart sink, but you have suspected they've been watching you for some time. You're here with this black-eyed dick, aren't you?

The demon continues, "A few weeks ago, a girl came through that was different from the others. She was special. She had special powers, right?" Your eyes slide away from his. He smiles. "Right. So you're going to tell me where she is, aren't you?"

You turn your face away from him. You see his lips twitch into a smirk out of the corner of your eye. No point in lying anymore.

"Yeah," you mutter defeatedly. "I met her."