#and then i jumped up outta bed like a demon possessed me and made this post

[notamean-greenbean]

damn ur allo and you still don’t have a partner?? we call that allone

#it’s the middle of the night #i woke up with this line in my head and burst out laughing #and then i jumped up outta bed like a demon possessed me and made this post #appreciate it

[death-himself]

Love is Dead—Chapter 8

MY SANDERS SIDES WRITING HAS RETURNED

Summary: Janus possesses Remus to try and speak to Patton. When that doesn't work, he moves on to Roman.

Word Count: 1,570

Warnings: Possession, Manipulation, Doll Decapitation

previous next (AO3 Link)

Patton came back from college at eight that night, yawning as he entered the house. Janus waited for him to eat whatever dinner his father had made before following him up to his bedroom to enact his plan. Virgil noticed him following and sighed, grabbing the chocolate bar from his room and walking reluctantly after him.

Patton went to sit on his bed as Virgil stood outside of his room, waving the chocolate bar around to get Janus’s attention. The ghost took a deep breath, holding out a hand and allowing the candy to leave Virgil’s hand, floating over to be right before Patton’s eyes.

Patton looked up, staring blankly with a glazed-over look at the bar of candy. A smile grew on Janus’s lips; Patton must believe that he exists now! But then the human yawned, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, then lied down and pulled his blankets over him. Janus allowed the candy to drop to the ground.

“My gods, does he think he’s hallucinating?”

“Yeah, probably.” Virgil mumbled, pulling out his phone as if bored.

“What the hell?”

“Hey, he had a long day at college, you’d probably think you were hallucinating too.” Janus had the chocolate float into the air, debating which of the brothers to throw it at for a moment, before chucking it at Virgil’s head. Virgil cursed, grabbing it and preparing to chuck it back, before remembering who exactly had thrown it.

“Fuck you.” Janus ignored him.

“We’ll try again tomorrow, when his mind is more awake.”

As it turned out, that didn’t work out either.

After giving up on the floating candy Janus moved on to more drastic measures, completely against Virgil’s will. After the kids came back from kindergarten one day he floated over to Remus, who was happily cutting off the head of one of Roman’s dolls. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Can you help me guillotine all these dolls first?” He didn’t even want to know where an eight-year old had learned that word, simply taking a seat in front of the child and telekinetically ripping the head off of a doll. Remus giggled excitedly, working at the doll in his hands faster with his safety scissors.

“I’d like to possess you.”

“Like in a scary movie?”

“Yes, like in a scary movie. I figured it would be the easiest way to get Patton to recognize that I exist. Would you be willing to go through with that?” Remus nodded far too eagerly.

“Would you be able to bully Ro in my body? Because then you’ll get in trouble and not me!”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s how your parents will see it, but alright.” Remus hummed at that.

“Okay! You can possess me after we kill all the dolls!” The safety scissors managed to make a small cut in the neck of Remus’s doll, encouraging him to cut at it harder. Janus sighed, preparing to have to stay there for another few hours.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had possessed a living person, but he knew it had been a while. Yes, quite a while. And he had definitely never possessed a child before, but rather an adult. He rubbed at his eyes, looking around as the world came into focus. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard Remus singing the same chorus of a children’s song on repeat. He had to make this quick, before that kid drove him insane.

He raced up the stairs, knocking on Patton’s door before entering quietly and politely, trying to make it obvious that he wasn’t Remus. “Good afternoon Patton.” Patton looked him up and down, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Heya kiddo, what’s up?”

“I am not a “kiddo,” Patton.” Janus said, the high-pitched squeakiness of Remus’s voice making him want to pound his head into the wall. “My name is Janus. You’ve heard of me, haven’t you?”

Patton nodded, laughing awkwardly. “Sure have. It’s, uh, good to meet you, Janus.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“Ah, well...you’ve kinda done this before, Remus kiddo. It’s not really all that weird.” Janus blinked, mentally turning to the five-year-old, who had finally moved on to repeating the next verse of his song.

“You’ve done this before?” The thought came out almost as a screech. Remus went silent.

“I can get away with a lotta stuff if I pretend to be possessed.”

“And how did you find that out?”

“Back in one of our other houses a ghost possessed me.”

“Fuck!” Janus shouted, leaving Remus’s body and storming up to his attic. Every time, every time he makes an attempt, it always fails! What on earth was he supposed to do? He let out a huff, running a hand through his hair.

The other kid. He didn’t seem like the type to fake being possessed. Perhaps he could be of some use, if Janus could just get him to trust him enough to possess him. He flew back downstairs, searching every room.

Roman was drawing while lying on the floor of the living room. He had luckily not walked in on the carnage that was his doll collection just yet; if he knew of Janus’s involvement in that he may be a bit less willing to hand over his body.

“Good afternoon, Roman.” The kid jumped, eyes flicking around before landing on Janus. He scooted away, brandishing a crayon at the spirit shouting “Get away! Evil! Demon!”

“You are so threatening. I am absolutely terrified of your pink crayon.”

“As you should be! I’ll call Virgil in and he’ll exorcise you right outta here!”

“Are you done yet? I’d like to ask a favor of you.” Roman squinted his eyes, not lowering his crayon.

“What kinda favor?”

“A simple one. It’ll only take a few moments. Just a simple possession, for only five minutes or so.”

“Possession?” Roman shrieked. “No! I won’t let you!” He threw his crayon at Janus, saw it pass through him, then threw a second, then a third, giving up only when a fourth of his crayons were lying on the floor behind Janus.

“A simple “no” would’ve been enough.” Janus floated back, giving Roman plenty of room to pick up all his thrown crayons. He huffed. This would be difficult, though. How could he get a kid like Roman to trust him, especially since his twin seemed to have a hobby of pretending to be possessed to get his way? He watched as Roman got back to drawing, warily glancing up at Janus every once in a while.

“You like to draw?” Janus asked. Roman nodded, picking up a green crayon and scribbling out what the spirit could only assume was a dragon. “You’re very good for your age.” Roman glanced up at him skeptically, before nodding again. “I’m gonna be the next Mona Lisa.”

“You mean the next Da Vinci? Mona Lisa was the painting, not the artist.”

“Yeah.” He clearly didn’t care about the difference. Janus hummed, thinking for a moment.

“Say, Roman, I’ll be perfectly honest here. There’s a reason why I’d like to possess you.” The kid made a resolute “mhm” sound, saying “To do evil stuff!”

“No, not to do “evil stuff.” Rather to find...love.” That seemed to get his attention. Roman looked up curiously.

“Like true love? Do you need a true love’s kiss to not be evil anymore?”

“Ah, you could say that.” Roman leaned closer, his body seeming to bounce a bit with excitement.

“Really? So you’re cursed with the evilness and need a true love’s kiss to take it away?”

“Sure.” He lied. “And you can think of Patton as...a knight in shining armor of sorts.”

“Patty gets to be a knight?!” He yelled happily. Janus quickly shushed him, worried that his parents would end up interrupting. “He sure does, Roman. Which is why I would like your assistance in getting his attention. Because he can’t see me, Roman, and that makes it quite difficult to get this...true love’s kiss from him.”

Roman nodded dutifully, seeming to have forgotten all of his fear in the name of making one of his fairy tale stories come to life. He picked up one of his crayons and a new sheet of paper and began scribbling out a new drawing. Based on the splotches of yellow, red, and black Janus realized with dread that the child was trying to draw him.

He finished proudly, holding it up for Janus to see. “There! Now Patton’ll be able to know what you look like so he can fall in love with you! What do you think?” The drawing was awful, a mess of splotches with a yellow smiley face where his head was. But he couldn’t tell him that, he wasn’t enough of a monster to tell a child their drawing was the worst image he had ever laid eyes upon.

“It’s lovely.” He said bluntly. Roman cheered, racing up the stairs screaming for Patton faster than Janus could blink. “Wait, don’t—fuck.”

And that’s how a child’s drawing of him ended up stuck to the fridge. Virgil laughed for a good five minutes when he saw it, making sure to take a picture just in case the spirit got mad enough to rip it up. “It’s pretty accurate, don’t ya think?”

“Shut up, Cain.”

“He captured your face perfectly.”

“I despise you.”

Tagging: @rebelrewriter @arodynamic-enby @bullet-tothefeels

#sanders sides #moceit #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #love is dead ghost au #ghost!janus #teen!virgil #kid!roman #kid!remus #possession tw #manipulation tw

[readyourimgaines]

Truth be Splashed

Summary: It’s all fun and games until Shane starts screaming when splashed with holy water. 

For how much Shane hated, even feared, holy water, he was always relieved to see Ryan with his dinky little squirt gun. He had no idea if it worked on ghosts but it sure as hell worked on demons. He tested that himself and it was something he never wanted to feel again.

When they were getting ready for a shoot, Shane didn’t touch the container the holy water was in. If it was in the squirt gun, he’d hold it by the holster to hand it to his boyfriend. The holy water in a water bottle was a little harder to get around, but he managed. 

Ryan was a smart guy. Shane knew that full well. The shorter man could have his silly moments like anyone else, but Ryan was easily one of the smartest people he’d met his whole life-- and that was saying something.

“Shane?” Ryan called from the living room. Shane was in the kitchen making dinner while Ryan found something for them to watch.

“Yeah?”

“What you ever seen Constantine?” 

“Uh...no. I read the graphic novel it’s based off of in college, though. Hellblazer, I think?” Shane kept working on their spaghetti.

“Was anything in it accurate?” 

“You’d have to tell me, Ry. You know more about demons and that sort of stuff than I do. I just read it because it was by the same guy that wrote V for Vendetta.” Shane turned away from the stove when he heard Ryan coming closer to him.

Ryan cupped Shane’s face in his hands, looking into the taller man’s eyes. The same brown eyes he’d fallen in love with a year ago. 

“You oka-” Shane let out a scream when Ryan took a plastic water bottle from his back pocket and splashed him in the face with the holy water inside it. He doubled over and moaned into his hands. After a minute or so, he was panting. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Ryan demanded.

“Ryan, wai-” Shane screamed again when the holy water was splashed on him again. “I’m Shane. You don’t understand-” again he screamed, his eyes turning black. 

“How long have you been possessing my boyfriend, you demon fuck?”

“Longer than you’ve been alive, kid.” Shane’s smooth voice was replaced with one low and gravelly. The stark difference coming from Shane’s mouth made Ryan take a step back. 

“Wha-”

“You know what they say: war is hell. This poor kid’s laying in no-man’s land, his lungs turning to mush in his chest. I wanna stay outta hell… 19 year-old, fresh outta high school, doesn’t want to die… I jump in him and watch his life unfold like a movie. Pretty sweet setup.”

Ryan terrified. No-man’s land? He vaguely remembered the term from high school but Junior year was too far back. Shane talked about no-man’s land when they watched All Quiet on the Western Front. The space between the trenches. 

“Shane died in World War One?”

“Almost. It’s my...he’d say ‘mojo’ keeping everything in his skinny-ass body moving.”

The black eyes flickered and the brown was back. Shane was back. 

“Ryan, please. I can explain better than he can.” Shane’s eyes were filled with pain because of the holy water and fear of what Ryan was going to do. His eyes hesitantly looked to the plastic water bottle. 

“Then do it. What the fuck is going on?”

Shane trembled slightly at the anger in Ryan’s voice. “I was in WW1, you got that right. I was drafted two months after I graduated. We were in the trenches. Cold, soaking wet, out of food, and crawling with rats, flees, lice, and who knows what else.

“Some German who stumbled his way through no-man’s land gassed us. It sinks so we were supposed to go to higher ground. I moved too fast, got outta the trench before it started sinking and I forgot my mask in the trench.

“The demon, Therpen, found me. Everything hurts when you get mustard gassed. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to blink. I just wanted to die but Therpen said if he possessed me, it would keep him out of hell and stop my pain, so I said yes. I just wanted the pain to stop.”

“But the last year…”

“That’s not Therpen. That’s me. Therpen doesn’t control me, Ry. He’s just along for the ride and keeps my body going. I do love you. I promise I do.”

Ryan had to think. His boyfriend was possessed by a demon and he should have died a little over 100 years ago. What the hell was he supposed to do with this? His boyfriend was possessed by a demon and older than his great-grandfather. 

“Please. Say something.” Shane pleaded. 

“You really- everything over the last year has nothing to do with…”

“No, no. Nothing at all. My love for you, Ryan, is genuinely something I feel. Demons don’t feel emotions.”

Ryan contemplated for a moment. This Therpen had nothing to do with their relationship aside from the fact that he was Shane’s personal generator.

“I...love you too. Just-just, why didn’t you tell me about this?” Ryan capped the holy water and put the bottle back in his back pocket.

“I didn’t want to scare you. I don’t like seeing you scared, Little Guy.”

Ryan took another step back and Shane felt his heart clench. “The whole time...the whole two years I’ve known you. After all the shit you’ve given me for trying to find proof of the supernatural and there’s been a fucking demon has giving you life support for 100 years?” Ryan clenched his hands into fists and resists the urge to splash him with the holy water. 

“That’s how it worked; playing...devil’s advocate for lack of a better phrase.” 

“You never once could have mentioned that you didn’t think I was crazy? Damn, Shane.” Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just- I’m not scared of you. I’m just fucking pissed. All this time and you never fucking trusted me.”

“I do trust you. That isn’t why I never told you.” Shane’s tone of voice became softer. “You get so scared so easily. I’m sorry.”

“I need time to think.” Ryan dropped the holy water on the kitchen table and grabbed his jacket.

“Wait, wait. Ry-”

The door slammed. 

*****

Ryan came back two hours later. Two bowls of now cold noodles sat on the kitchen table. Shane slept in what must have been an uncomfortable ball on the couch. The younger man sighed with a shake of his head. He took the blanket from the back of the couch and laid it over Shane. He made his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

Shane stirred on the couch and his sleep clouded eyes donned confusion when he noticed the blanket on him. Finally, he looked up and saw Ryan. “You came back.”

“Yeah.” Ryan scratched the back of his neck.

Shane stood and folded the blanket, draping it back over the couch. “Any decisions or is the jury still out?” 

Ryan thought about how to word his next question. “This demon, Sherpin or whatever, doesn’t impact your choices? It just keeps you alive?” 

“It just keeps me alive.” Shane confirmed. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Big Guy.” 

Shane felt instant relief at Ryan’s words. He wanted nothing more than to kiss the younger man, but he wasn’t sure how Ryan would react at this moment. 

“Are you hungry?” Ryan questioned. 

“I’m good.” Shane shrugged. 

Ryan cocked his head to the side, doubting the man’s words. 

“I’m kinda hungry.”

Ryan chuckled and put the bowls in the microwave. Shane got them something to drink.

“Ryan?”

“Hm?”

“You know how we don’t get a lot of activity in the demon episodes of unsolved?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s uh, that’s because of me and Therpen. I don’t want to risk you getting hurt or scared so Therpen shows himself when you aren’t looking and scares them off.” Shane was shocked when Ryan started laughing.  

“After learning my boyfriend is being possessed by a demon, I don’t think anything you say can surprise me anymore.”

“How do you… How did you even figure it out? I never said anything. I was so careful.” 

Ryan scratched the back of his head as the microwave went off. “I was uh, I was tagged in someone’s fanart on Twitter. You know how some fans ‘think’ you’re a demon? Splashing you was supposed to make you laugh, not scream. I had no fucking idea.”

It was Shane’s turn to laugh. “Can I see the fanart?”

Ryan’s cheeks turned red and Shane smirked. “It can’t be worse than anything we’ve done.”

“I’ll DM it to you.”

*****

That night, they laid in bed and Shane was careful not to move too much. Ryan rolled onto his side and looked at Shane through the darkness.

“What are you doing, Shane?” Ryan asked. “Did I hurt you?”

“Ry, you didn’t know-”

“I did after the first time.” Ryan sat up and turned on the lamp. “I-”

“Me screaming wasn’t the reaction you were expecting.” Shane sat up. “It’s okay. I’m not in pain and you came back, so everything’s okay.”

Ryan scooted closer to Shane and Shane reached over him to turn off the lamp again. As soon as they laid down again, Ryan curled into Shane’s side and the taller man didn’t waste a second in wrapping his arms around the shorter man. It didn’t take long for them to fall asleep.

#read your imagines #combefere's journal #otp: we took an oath #shyan #buzzfeed unclean #buzzfeed unsolved imagine #shane madej #demon!shane #ryan bergara #ryan and shane

[yikesharringrove]

Billy gets turned into a cat because he pissed someone off. Max brings this stray to Steve's house because of Neil. Billy doing all the terrible cat things at first and not letting Steve touch him but warming up to him. Just follows Steve around, learns about them. Then he jsut does the dick cat hing to other people. Keeps sneaking into family video. The curse only breaks when Billy admits to himself how much he cares about Steve.

No monster au I guess? I honestly don’t know anymore but Billy never got possessed.

-

“Hey little dude.”

Steve picked up the little cat. It’s fur was thick and a light color, with big bright blue eyes.

He had found it screaming in the backyard.

It was squirming in his arms as he brought it inside.

“Where’s your home? You have no collar. You’re naked.” He put the cat down in the kitchen, opened a can of tuna for him. The cat sniffed at the tuna, tucking in to it slowly. “Naked cat, what should I name you?” Steve sang at the cat.

It turned it’s big blue eyes on him, looking at him judgmentally.

“Wow. You’re a rude naked cat.” The cat hissed at him. Steve pretended to clutch at a set of pearls, gasping dramatically. “Mind you language in my home, young man.” The cat seemed to roll his eyes at him.

He spent the night playing with the little cat, learning he was kind of an asshole, didn’t really like to play much, and would knock shit off any surface it could get to. (Which was all of them. All surfaces).

But it was nice having something to take care of, and he woke up with the little thing curled into his neck.

-

Billy doesn’t know what the fuck had happened.

He was standing by the Camaro, having a cigarette as Amy Whatever-her-name-is was sucking him off. He had closed her eyes, pretending the soft lips around him belonged to one Steve Harrington when she pulled off him, started yelling at him for not being into her. He had driven her home mad and told her she was a slut.

She had pointed a finger in his face, told him until he got his head out of his ass and admitted how he felt he would be stuck. He didn’t know what the fuck she was on about and told her she was a crazy bitch before peeling outta her driveway.

It was not his finest moment, and he was seething while he drove around.

He decided to take a walk, was chain smoking through Loch Nora when his vision whited out. He felt like he was hurdling through space for hours or maybe seconds before he came to his senses.

As a fucking cat.

He was outside of Steve’s house, and needed help, only to find that Steve was useless, gave him some fucking tuna and said weird shit to him.

The next day he went out for some time, coming home with cat toys, food, and a fucking litter box.

Billy was goddamn appalled.

He was expected to shit in a box and Steve was gonna clean it up.

That is not fucking happening.

-

He had been spending the week with Steve, had so far he had learned Steve Harrington is an adorable fucking weirdo.

He likes to sing at Billy, likes to pick him up, watch tv with the little cat curled on his chest.

He talks a lot, fills up the empty house around with sound, plays music and leaves tvs in different rooms on as he moved through them.

He would laugh at the asshole things Billy did, like pawing at the record player until it turned off when he played music Billy didn’t like.

And Billy learned that Steve didn’t sleep much. He would stay up late, lights flicked on around the house.

The first time Steve had a nightmare, Billy pawed at him, meowing as loud as he could, trying to get Steve back from whatever nightmare he was having.

Steve woke up, looking at Billy before bursting into tears, pulling the little cat close.

Billy purred loudly, trying to help, absolutely hated the way he his chest heaved, the way he curled into himself.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Billy purred louder, didn’t want Steve apologizing.

-

Steve had named the little cat Diablo.

The first few days were spent with the cat hissing and swiping at him, not letting Steve touch him and pushing expensive vases to the floor.

But the little cat seemed to warm up to him, had stopped doing little asshole things and spent most of it’s time following Steve around.

Robin came over after work one Saturday to meet the little fur ball Steve had been cooing about for weeks.

“He’s really cute, Steve.” Diablo did not like Robin, was curled in Steve’s lap, glaring at her. “Even if he hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. It took him a few days to trust me.” He scratched the little cat behind it’s ears.

“Billy hasn’t been in Family Video in a few weeks.” The cat perked up at her sentence. Steve shifted it over to rub at it’s belly.

“Yeah. I know.” Diablo purred. “I don’t know what to tell you, Rob. I don’t think he feels like that about me.” Diablo twisted around, curling back into Steve’s lap, looking at him intensely, pawing at his chest.

“He flirted with you all summer at Scoops, Dingus.”

“I think he was just being an ass.”

“I know a closet case when I see one, Popeye. Hence why we’re friends.” Diablo stopped pawing at Steve, trotted to sniff at Robin’s knee, looking at her with big eyes.

“I’m not a closet case.”

“You were when we met.” Diablo swatted at her shin, staring at her. “He’s like a little person. He’s so expressive.” Diablo headbutted her knee. She smiled at him before looking back to Steve. “I mean, when I met you, you were fully lying to yourself.”

“I wasn’t really, I mean I always knew I like guys, I just never really acted on it.” Diablo came zooming back to him, batting at him, making little yowling noises.

“You didn’t let yourself act on it.”

“It just didn’t really matter. I like girls and don’t wanna get fucking killed for being a queer.” He picked up the screeching cat, holding him up to eye level. “What’s up with you? Do you hate me because you know I’m queer?” Diablo licked his nose. Steve smiled at him. “I’ll take that as a no.”

-

Steve Harrington liked guys, and by the sounds of it, he liked Billy.

Billy had tried to get as much info outta the two, but it was hard when he couldn’t use actual words.

He had thought Steve and Robin had been dating, had scratched at her a few times, only feeling bad when she waxed poetic about Heather Holloway, and Steve called her a useless lesbian.

But Steve was an option, if he ever figured out how in the fuck he was gonna get back to himself.

He ended up sneaking into Steve’s car when he went to work the next day, screaming at him from the backseat, making Steve jump and swerve a little, swearing as he pulled Billy into his lap.

He brought Billy into work with him, placing him in a cardboard box under the counter so he could reach down and scratch his ears.

“Why’d you bring the little demon?” Robin’s hand was rubbing at his neck.

“He snuck into my car at started fucking screaming at me.” Robin laughed.

“What a little hellbeast.”

Billy sat curled in the box, quiet as he listened to Steve work. He was asleep when the box started shifting.

“What the fuck is this cat doing here?” Billy blinked up to see Keith, Steve’s jackass boss.

“Shit, sorry Keith, He’s mine. He followed me to work today.”

“Jesus, Harrington. You can’t bring your pets in here.” He went to get Billy out of the box. Billy swiped at him, scratching his wrist. “Fuck,  get your asshole cat outta here.” Steve reached in with gentle hands, picking up Billy, hissing and spitting.

“I’m sorry, Keith-”

“Just get out, Harrington. I am so fucking close to firing you.” Billy went still.

Steve rushed out to his car, placing Billy in the passenger seat as he pulled out. Billy made a little noise at him, trying to get in his lap. Steve pushed him away.

“I am hanging on by a fucking thread with Keith. You can’t do that shit.” Billy made a sad sound. Steve sniffed.

“I just, I’m so shit at everything. Robin got me that job, and I almost ruin it all the goddamn time. It’s pretty much the best I can fucking get.” Steve let Billy slowly climb into his lap.

“And just, if I lose this job my dad’ll kick me out, and then I’m really fucked.” Billy pressed his head into Steve’s stomach, nuzzling into him. “Thanks for that. You’re kinda sweet sometimes.” Billy meowed back at him.

-

Steve had another nightmare that night, had curled around Billy and cried into his fur.

Billy had licked softly at his cheeks. The tears there. He wanted Steve to feel safe and happy.

These few weeks living with him, he had learned so much about Steve Harrington, learned that he was weird and sweet and lonely and sad and loud and so much more than Billy ever thought he’d be.

He had come to really care about Steve, maybe even, maybe even love him-

His vision went out again. He couldn’t feel his body anymore as his mind shorted out. His ears were buzzing when he came back to himself, breathing heavily.

“Um, what?” He turned over, saw Steve looking at him with huge eyes. “What the fuck.”

“Hey, Pretty Boy. I was the cat.” Steve shot outta bed.

“What the fuck is going on? What do you mean you were the cat? Why are you naked?” Billy looked down, putting a pillow over his dick.

“I was an asshole to this girl, and she apparently, apparently like cursed me or something, to be a cat. So I was the cat. I was Diablo.”

“And you, were you like, aware of everything that happened while you were a cat?” His face was red, no doubt thinking about all the little things he had shared about himself in the time.

“Oh yeah, Stevie. I know you pretty well now.” Steve flushed even more. “Know you have a crush on me.”

“I, I do not have a, a crush on you.” Billy raised an eyebrow.

“Would you quit lying to me if I told you I had a crush on you?” Steve opened and closed his mouth a few times.

“Uh, maybe. If you, if you said it again.”

Billy stood up, slinking towards Steve, smirking As Steve looked panicked, eyes darting anywhere that wasn’t Billy.

He pulled Steve’s hips, bringing their bodies flush together. He pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his jaw.

“I’ve got a big fucking crush on you, Pretty Boy.”

Steve lunged, connecting their lips together.

“God, me too. I’m, I like you a lot.” He sighed into their kiss, his arms around Billy’s shoulders.

#yikes writes #I was gonna have a part where max is panicked looking for billy whos missing and little cat billy tries to confort her but a bitch is lazy #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove drabble #harringrove ficlet #harringrove fic

[winchester-fantasies]

Even Better

Summary: After you’re almost attacked by demons at the dog grooming boutique you work at, Sam and Dean Winchester take you under their wing. When an unexpected member is added to your group, Dean realizes he may have feelings for you.

Word Count: 3876

Warnings: fluff, show level violence, gruff Dean, sweet Dean, some swearing

Pairing: Dean x Plus Size!Reader

A/N: This was written for an anonymous request: Can I request a dean x plus size reader where she a dog groomer and demons almost attack her at her job and dean and Sam have to watch her to make sure she safe, while they are protecting her dean starts catching feeling for her sweet, animal loving personality and confess his love to her when they get drunk one night! Sorry this sounds so awkward haha 😊😊 Thank you for your request! Hope you like it!! ❤❤

Winchester Fantasies’ Masterlist

The first thing you noticed when you walked through the door of the dog grooming boutique you worked at was the flickering of the lights you had left on overnight. You thought it was strange; you’d replaced the bulbs just a few weeks before. You stopped to watch the light fixture, flipping the switch off and then flicking it back on. The flickering stopped, but the next second you frowned as it started back up. You sighed heavily as you walked behind the counter, depositing your purse in the cubby under the counter. You’d probably have to end up calling the electrician. The last thing you or your boss needed was a short to have to deal with. 

You flipped open the scheduler on the counter. Your first appointment was with one of your usuals - a poodle named, Maxine. She was one of your favorites to work with and you couldn’t help but smile whenever you saw her name on the schedule.

You yawned and rubbed your bleary eyes. You sighed heavily. You really shouldn’t have stayed out so late drinking the night before even if it was your best friend’s birthday. You needed a coffee, and desperately. You seriously considered running over to the café next door and grabbing one of their German chocolate flavored coffees. But it would have to wait until later.

You had just stooped down to grab your name tag from the cubby when the bell over the door tinkled. You straightened back up, finding a man and woman standing a little ways from the counter, both dressed in suits.

You smiled in acknowledgment. “Good morning,” you greeted. “How can I help you? Do you have an appointment?”

The man eyed you up and down before clasping his hands in front of him. “Of sorts,” he said vaguely. 

You frowned in confusion. “Do you have a meeting with Margo?” you asked, glancing at the scheduler in front of you, searching for an appointment for your boss but finding none. 

“No,” the woman clipped. 

“Then why are you here?” you asked uneasily, suspicion forming in the back of your mind.

“We’re here for the shears,” the man stated as if you would know exactly what he was talking about.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t sell shears here,” you said. “If you go right down the street, though, there’s a….”

“Stop playing games!” the woman snapped. Her eyes were suddenly pure black. You screamed in terror, backing up and tripping over the chair behind you. You felt yourself falling backwards just as the door burst open. You caught a glimpse of two men rushing in right before you fell to the floor with a thud, your head making contact with the tile with a crack.

Your head was spinning as you struggled into a sitting position. You heard two agonized cries and a sound like sparks crackling in the air before two heavy thuds followed. Silence filled the building and you were about to attempt to get to your feet when one of the men who had rushed inside rounded the side of the counter.

His brooding, green eyes met yours, a look of relief crossing his face. “You okay?” he asked.

You nodded as he extended his hand to help you up. You eyed the dagger in his other hand cautiously, not trusting anyone. Especially after what you’d just seen.

“C’mon,” the man said in exasperation, motioning with his hand impatiently. When you made no move to take his hand, he rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, dimples forming on either side of his mouth. He resheathed the dagger before reaching out for you again. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he reassured.

You looked at him carefully for a moment more, gauging if he was being truthful or not. Something in his eyes told you you were better off with him than those black-eyed freaks. You took his hand, his strength surprising you as he hoisted you up in one swift movement as if you weighed no more than a leaf. You weren’t exactly small. Not with your wide hips, curves, and thick thighs. 

“We gotta get outta here,” he said, jerking his head towards the door. You nodded, looking around for the other man who had come in with the one in front of you. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You glanced down to the two bodies on the floor, blood pooling beneath them. “Don’t look,” the man said, his voice gruff and authoritative. He reached for your hand, leading you outside. 

The other man was standing behind a black Chevy Impala, the trunk open wide as he rummaged through a duffle bag. He glanced up as you approached. He shot you a thin-lipped smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

You didn’t have time to return his smile as the first man opened the back of the vehicle and gestured to the back seat. “Get in,” he commanded.

You hesitated for a moment, staring into his face. Was it really a wise thing to get into the car of two strange men? 

You didn’t have time to think more about it or even protest as he all but shoved you into the back seat. “Get in!” he snapped again, slamming the door closed after you. “Sam! Come on! We gotta go. Now!” He rounded the car quickly before climbing into the driver’s seat. 

The taller one came around to the passenger’s side after a few moments, shooting you an almost apologetic smile as he squeezed himself inside.

The vehicle roared to life, the tires screeching soon after as your green-eyed savior peeled out onto the road. Soon you were heading south, the scenery growing denser and the population thinner. A sense of uneasiness once again filled your mind as you listened to the two men talk, their voices low and muffled by the rumbling of the Impala’s engine. Every once in awhile, the taller man would glance back at you, his brow furrowed and hazel eyes filled with concern. You didn’t know what was going on, but the longer you traveled the more questions arose in your mind that needed answers.

You licked your lips and darted your eyes between the two men, the one who’s name was apparently Sam, pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening his web browser. “Where are you taking me?” you finally dared to ask, your voice wavering.

“Somewhere safe,” the driver clipped, never taking his eyes off the road. 

You swallowed hard. You weren’t entirely sure you believed him, but nevertheless you nodded.

“I’m Sam, by the way,” the man in the passenger’s seat said, turning to look at you, his dimples once again appearing as he shot you his first genuine smile.

You couldn’t help but grin back. “(Y/N),” you said.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N),” Sam said. “This is my brother, Dean,” he added, gesturing to the man beside him.

“Oh,” you said simply, not really sure what else to say.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions,” Sam commented.

You huffed out a harsh chuckle. “That’s an understatement.”

Sam chuckled before turning back around and looking at his phone again. “We’ll explain everything. But right now, we need to get you to safety.”

You nodded again before settling back into the seat, wrapping your arms around yourself and looking out the window at the waning light.

**********

You must have fallen asleep because when you next opened your eyes it was completely dark outside and the car had stopped in front of a shady looking motel. You winced at the crick in your neck, rocking your head side to side, trying to loosen up the tight muscles.

You jumped just as the back door was pulled open, Sam stooping down to look inside. “Hey, you’re awake,” he said with a grin. “Thought I might have to carry you inside.”

You chuckled lightly before climbing out of the car and stretching your body, muscles aching from the stressful day. You followed Sam to Room 111, finding the room clean and surprisingly put together despite the off white walls and stained carpet. 

Dean was sprawled out on one of the full sized beds, arm under his head and eyes closed. You stopped, looking between the thinning sofa and other bed, biting your lip. “You can take the bed,” Sam offered as if reading your thoughts.

“Are you sure?” you asked hesitantly. “I don’t mind…” you said, gesturing to the couch.

“No, really,” Sam insisted. “It’s fine. I guess you don’t have a change of clothes do you?”

You bit your lip and shook your head. You’d left everything back at the boutique - your purse, phone, wallet...everything. You looked down at the knee length skirt and peasant top you were still wearing; the clothes on your back were literally the only possessions you had to your name.

“She can borrow one of my shirts,” Dean’s gruff voice broke the silence. You nearly jumped at the sound; you thought he’d already fallen asleep. Instead he sat up with a groan, his eyes tired looking. 

He stooped down to rummage through the duffle bag at the side of his bed, pulling out an old and faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt and tossing it to you. “Thanks,” you said, catching it and haphazardly folding it. 

“You wanna get a shower?” Sam asked gently. “Might help you relax after everything that happened today.”

You smiled your thanks and nodded before walking to the bathroom. The water pressure was shitty; the water itself barely lukewarm. And the fan in the ceiling did diddly-squat to help circulate air and by the time you were done showering, the small room was hazy with steam. 

You quickly dried off, folding your dirty clothes into a semi-neat pile before pulling on Dean’s t-shirt. It swallowed you, the hem falling nearly mid-thigh. You didn’t feel like you were a thicker girl; in fact you felt sexy.

You walked back out into the main room, finding the lights off and both Sam and Dean already in bed, covers up over their bodies. You tiptoed over to your bed, placing your clothes on the nightstand. You were about to pull back your covers when your stomach growled. You grimaced at the sound as it seemed to reverberate around the room.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you carefully considered what you should do. You didn’t have your wallet, but you thought maybe you had some loose change in your skirt pocket from when you’d stuffed it after getting gas that morning. You unfolded your skirt, quietly rummaging through its pockets, coming up triumphantly with three quarters.

You made your way to the door, silently unlocking and unchaining the door. You took one quick look at Sam and Dean, making sure you hadn’t woken them before slipping outside. The night was cool; the hint of fall in the air. Your bare feet padded across the cold concrete before rounding the corner, finding two snack machines crammed into the corner. 

You stopped at the first one, surveying the offered items. Most of them were candy bars and chips, which were to be expected you supposed. You knew you needed something more nutritious, but with nothing else to choose from, you finally settled on a Twix. You deposited the quarters, pressed the keys of the slot you wanted, and watched as it dropped to the bottom of the machine. You grabbed it up, turning and hurrying back to the room, the cold starting to seep into your bones. 

You rounded the corner again, but stopped dead in your tracks, your heart in your throat. There, not even three feet away, stood a Cocker Spaniel. Its hair was matted and body thin, but its tongue hung loose and happy-go-lucky and tail wagging. It couldn’t have been more than a couple of years old, judging by its height and the puppish-looking face staring back at you.

“Hey, there, cutie,” you crooned, walking slowly over to it, stooping down and extending your hand. Its tail went wild and it - he, you could now see - bounded over to you, practically jumping into your arms and licking your face with wild abandon. You giggled and petted him until he calmed down enough for you to check his collar. You frowned when you found none. “That’s strange,” you said, looking into his soulful, dark eyes. “Do you have a home, Fella?”

He licked your face once more in response. You chuckled before straightening and looking down at him. You glanced from him to your motel room just a few doors down from where you stood. You didn’t know if Sam and Dean would appreciate waking up to a dog, but you couldn’t just leave him alone and homeless. 

“C’mon, Fella,” you called, clicking your tongue and patting your leg. Fella immediately responded, loping to your side and easily falling into step with you as you made your way back to the room. “Be quiet,” you whispered, turning the knob and pushing the door open quietly. Fella bounded inside, making a beeline straight for Dean’s bed. “No!” you hissed just as Fella jumped into the bed, landing full force onto Dean’s sleeping form.

“What the fuck?” Dean bellowed, all but jumping out of bed. Sam shot up at the sound of his brother’s exclamation, his long hair askew and eyes dazed. You flipped on the light to see Dean sitting straight up in bed, his face a mixture of shock and confusion as Fella cowered on your bed, apparently having run away at Dean’s outburst.

It finally seemed to register that Dean was looking at a dog because his brow suddenly turned down into a scowl. “What the fuck?” Dean asked again, looking from Fella to you, still standing in the open doorway.

You swallowed hard as you turned and closed and locked the door behind you. When you turned back, both Dean and Sam were staring at you. “Uh, this...this is, Fella,” you said, trying to add as much pleasantness to your voice as you could muster.

Dean looked back to Fella who’s fear of Dean had apparently abated a bit, but who still sat, gauging the still scowling man suspiciously. “You can’t just bring a dog here!” Dean finally snapped, his green eyes blazing as he turned his wrath onto you.

“I...I’m sorry,” you stammered. “It’s just...he was outside. And it’s getting cold. And he didn’t have a collar and it’s not like I could just leave him out there.”

“No,” Dean said, his voice gruff, shaking his head staunchly. “Absolutely not. We’re taking him back to the bunk….”

“Dean,” Sam interjected, finally finding his voice after the initial confusion. “C’mon. We can’t just leave him. He doesn’t look like he’s been fed or had a home in weeks.”

Dean grumbled, his frown deepening before he settled back down, turning away with a loud huff. “Fine,” he clipped. “But we’re not keeping him. As soon as we figure this whole demon thing out and get (Y/N) back to her place safely, he’s gone.”

**********

Dean awoke the next morning to a pair of dark eyes staring into his soul. Fella’s tail was wagging as he scooted forward, his wet nose booping Dean’s before the dog’s tongue licked a stripe over Dean’s mouth. He shuddered and rolled over, throwing off the covers as he sat up.

He found (Y/N) and Sam still asleep, (Y/N)’s body sprawled out on the opposite bed, arms and legs both twisted at angles Dean would never be able to get out of. He shook his head before getting up and going to the bathroom. He was about to close the door when Fella decided he needed to join him, pushing past the half-closed door and stopping just a few feet away and looking up at Dean with pure adoration.

“What’re you lookin’ at?” Dean asked, scowling. He turned around, lifting the seat and relieving himself, feeling Fella’s eyes on him the entire time. Once he was finished, he jumped into the shower, letting the sweat and grime from the day before wash off. 

He’d almost forgotten Fella had decided to join him as he stepped out of the shower onto the grimy linoleum floor of the bathroom. He reached for a towel and started drying off when he felt something wet and rough meet the skin of his leg. Dean jumped away, looking down to find Fella languidly licking the water droplets off his leg. “Seriously, dude?” Dean asked, biting back the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Dean threw back on his boxers and t-shirt before exiting the room, finding both Sam and (Y/N) fully awake and ready for the day. (Y/N)’s face lit up as her eyes settled on Fella. “Hey, there, cutie!” she greeted, bending down and laughing as Fella threw himself into her arms and licked her face.

Dean rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but feel a tug at his heart as he watched (Y/N) interacting with Fella. Dean cleared his throat as he pulled out a fresh pair of jeans and a flannel and pulled both on before zipping his duffle back up. “We need to be outta here in ten,” Dean said, turning around and heading for the door.

Sam and (Y/N) nodded in acknowledgement and soon enough they were back on the road, heading for the bunker. Dean kept glancing in the rearview mirror at (Y/N). Her face was more often than not lit up in a wide grin as Fella stayed glued to her side. Dean swallowed hard, shoving down the foreign feeling in his chest and tried to ignore the butterflies he hadn’t felt since he was a teenager fluttering in his stomach. 

Along the way Sam gave her the whole monster spiel, her eyes widening in shock and fear as Sam explained that it was demons who had almost attacked her. Sam and Dean thought it was part of a deal that one of (Y/N)’s old coworkers had made with Crowley, the King of Hell; ancient and magical shears in exchange for a life of wealth and fame. But of course there was always a catch. Her coworker’s soul would be Crowley’s in ten years...but they didn’t tell (Y/N) that.

By nightfall they were back at the bunker. Dean climbed out of the Impala, going to the trunk and taking out his duffle and hurrying to the bunker’s entrance. He had to get away from all the overwhelming emotions swirling in his chest. He couldn’t decipher exactly what was going on, but it felt akin to the few times he’d been put under a spell.

His eyes seemed to have a mind of their own as he couldn’t seem to take them off her. He seemed to notice everything about her; the way her hair fell to her shoulders and cascaded down her chest and back; the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed at Fella or at something Sam had said - and god...that laugh. It was like tinkling bells. He bit his lower lip as his eyes followed the way her hips swayed as she made her way down the hall to the bathroom. Fuck, was she the finest specimen of a woman he’d ever laid eyes on. He frowned as she disappeared around the corner. When had he become so sappy? Fuck, he needed a drink.

He got up from the library table, going to the kitchen and pouring himself a good sized cup of whiskey. He took a big swig, relishing the sting as it settled in his stomach and almost instantly relieved some of his nerves. 

But in an instant his butterflies were back as (Y/N) walked into the kitchen. “Hey,” she said, her lips turning up into that gorgeous smile of hers. 

“Oh, hey,” he said, his voice coming out higher than he’d intended. He cleared his throat and gestured to the bottle on the counter. “You want some?”

“Uh, sure,” she said, coming to his side as he took a tumbler from the shelf and poured her a glass. She smiled her thanks before taking a sip and hissing. “That’s good,” she said. “Been a long time since I had whiskey.”

Dean smiled before making his way to the kitchen table and sitting down, (Y/N) joining him a few minutes later. “So you like animals, huh?” Dean asked, taking another sip of his drink.

(Y/N)’s eyes lit up and she nodded briskly. The next thing he knew, he was listening in avid interest as she explained that she had always loved animals and after she had graduated from cosmetology school, she had decided to invest in that passion and put her skill into practice.

By the time she was done talking, they had both almost finished the entire bottle of whiskey. His mind was fuzzy and all he could think about was how easy it would be to reach across the table and kiss her. 

He was still thinking about how her lips would feel against his when Fella sauntered in, immediately going up to (Y/N) and showering her with wet and sloppy kisses. She giggled, leaning down and kissing the top of his head that she had yet to clean. 

Dean smirked, that tugging at his heart happening again, this time stronger. “Who gave you the right to be so damn sweet?” Dean slurred. He hadn’t even realized he’d said it until (Y/N) looked up at him, her beautiful eyes filled with both mirth and confusion. 

“What?” she chuckled.

“You heard me,” he said, fiddling with his tumbler on the table. “You’re so sweet. And drop dead gorgeous, I might add.”

“Oh,” (Y/N) murmured, her cheeks growing red. She dropped her gaze, but the next second raised her eyes to meet his as he pushed back from the table and walked around to her side. Before she could even register what was happening, Dean had taken her hand in his and hoisted her up. He wrapped his arm around her, his hand pressed to the small of her back as he held her close against him.

He raised his hand to her face, his thumb tracing her cheek. “And I think I’m falling in love with you,” he breathed. Her eyelids fluttered in shock and he heard a soft but audible gasp leave her mouth. He glanced to her lips, so plump and supple. He locked eyes with her again, finding her pupils wide. “I could kiss you right now,” he whispered, his eyes darting to her lips once again.

They formed into a smirk before he looked back to her face, her eyes holding a sultry and enticing look. “Then why don’t you?” she asked.

And he did. Her lips formed around his own, the taste of whiskey on her tongue as she allowed him to deepen the kiss. 

It was just as he’d imagined. No, he thought, his grip on her tightening as she wrapped her arms around his neck.... This was even better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you for reading! If you liked what you read, let me know!! ❤❤

***Please do not share my content on any other platform without my consent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

Everything:

@divadinag​ @mogaruke​ @calaofnoldor​ @defenderrosetyler​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @emoryhemsworth​ @satans-0-spawn​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​ @titty-teetee​ @gallifreyansass​ @swiftrogerswinchesterthot​

Dean Girls:

@weepingwillowphoenix​ @akshi8278​

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #supernatural #spn #supernatural one shot

[journal-of-an-outlaw]

Price to be Paid - Chapter 10

The Rise of Mrs. Sadie Adler

Words: 4,156

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

AO3 Link

It had taken you and Arthur longer than you had hoped to arrive at camp, but you had to admit everything he said was true. The location was easily defendable on the lake, and the water was blue and sparkling in the evening sun. It was beautiful. 

“Ah, Mr. Morgan! Ms. Moore! How did you two get on with those loans?” Dutch wandered over as you hitched your horse in the new area. Eclipse nibbled at the grass and made content noises as you took her heavy saddle off in the heat. 

“Well enough, I suppose. Last one didn’t have the money but we got everything else. Here, for the camp,” Arthur handed the older man the cash. “Damn, Dutch. This humidity is awful.”

He laughed but agreed, and motioned you over to Grimshaw. In a softer tone Dutch asked Arthur how things went with you.

“Fine. She’s good on a horse and held her own. Soft spirit, but nearly took a man’s head of by swinging a gun at him. I’d say we start taking her out more and givin’ her responsibilities. She can hunt and fight just fine.” Dutch was happy to hear this and clapped Arthur’s shoulder.

“Mr. Morgan! Your tent, per usual, is near the ammunition and over on the right there. Next to Herr Strauss. Don’t make that face, I know how you feel about the man but space is limited. Miss Moore, you’re by that tree and the lake. We moved your stuff over but don’t know how you like it, so that bit is up to you.” You smiled back at Grimshaw, “Thank you, I appreciate it. I’ll go get all set up then.” 

The three nodded and began a new conversation without you, so with your saddle in hand you walked to your new tent.

Lenny, Mary-Beth, and Abigail all called out hellos from across the camp at your return and you filled with happiness inside. 

Grimshaw was right about your tent. Situated maybe twenty feet from the water, a cool breeze filtered through the open flaps and felt heavenly. Your few possessions were on your bed and you took your time decorating your new home to your liking before you had to get dinner. 

Watching the water reminded you of the times your mother would take you down to Flat Iron Lake as a child. She taught you to swim and would take you for ice cream as a treat after an afternoon in the glowing sun. 

She had been crossing your mind more and more lately and you didn’t know why. Cassandra Milton. The only woman to love that bastard father of yours. 

The small heart shaped locket she had given you was in the pile on your bed and it opened to her photo. Smiling, you clasped the chain around your neck and tucked it behind your clean white shirt before leaving the tent. It always made you feel close to her when you squeezed it tightly in your hand. 

Boxes were scattered around the uncompleted camp acting as chairs and you couldn’t complain as you took a seat and watched the sun finally slip down below the waterline for the day. 

The stew Pearson made had some of what you had helped Charles hunt and to you it tasted divine. Of course, it wasn’t canned corn or poorly shot rabbit, so anything at this point was better than what you had eaten recently. Or maybe it was just your recent burst of happiness that flavored the meal to your liking. 

Charles joined you after finishing up with Pearson to get his cooking area established. 

“How did you and Arthur get on, YN?” He looked tired and ready to relax as he passed you a bottle of beer, and you clinked yours with his lightly. 

“Good, feeling better about being here. More established. I really do want to help out, need to go hunting again anytime soon?” 

Charles laughed and took a long drink. “No. Too soon from last time, but I’ll let you know. We don’t want to over hunt and have the animals go to waste. Have you seen the town nearby? Rhodes? I’m not familiar with it.” 

You hadn’t. Most of your life was spent in Blackwater with few trips outside, although you had heard of many of the cities out east. 

“No. Saw the sign on the way in. We ran into some Laymone Raiders last night though, hope they ain’t too common around here.” Out of habit you scanned the wooded area, but nothing was lurking. All your demons were tucked away quietly for the time being. 

“Should be perfectly safe here, like I thought. Good land, clean water right there. I have no worries about this place. Feels good to not worry about folks here for a little while.” 

You sighed heavily, tearing the label off your beer bottle. “Well Charles, I guess worryin’ is the price you have to pay when you have folks around that you care for.” 

He raised his bottle again to yours, and you watched the lake move peacefully back and forth in a calming rhythm that would soon help you fall asleep at night.

 Not a week into being at Clemens Point and Sadie Adler broke.

You were helping Abigail feed the chickens, carrying the bags back and forth to spread the food around their area. The morning had been soft so far with a fog rolling in from the lake. Warm rays of the sun were ready to burn it away as it had every morning previously, the heat already creeping across your shoulders and down your back.

“Say whatever you damn well please but I tell you, if I don’t get outta here soon, I’m gonna kill somebody.” 

Abigail froze and you watched Arthur approach the widow as she pointed a sharp knife in Pearson’s direction. You can’t imagine the past five months have been easy on Sadie Adler, but she had hardly started living her life again. Coming to some meals, dressing, and putting in minimal help was all she was good for at Horseshoe Overlook. Of course, none of you blamed her. After the trip to Clemens Point her view seemed to change to be more future oriented and finally emerging out of her shell. 

Pearson slammed the pot he was holding down on his wooden table and turned to face Mrs. Adler. “If you don’t stop hissing at me, I’m gonna kill you!” He was brandishing a knife sharpener to counter her weapon but it was doing little good. 

“You come near me, sailor...and I will slice you up!” 

“You put that knife down or you’re going to be missing a hand, lady.”

Arthur stood back a ways letting the two get things out of their system, but finally stepped in as the two got closer and closer. “What is wrong with you two?”

Sadie slammed the tip of the knife into the table with enough force to make it stand on its own, and replied, “I ain’t chopping vegetables for a living.” She stood with her hands on her hips and her shoulders moved with each breath she took. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, madam,” Arthur sauntered over. “Are there not sufficient feathers in your pillow?”

Abigail clucked beside you at Arthur. She obviously sided with Sadie and watched the two go back and forth. 

“Look, I ain’t lazy Mr. Morgan. I’ll work but not this. My husband and I, we shared the work. All of it. I was out in the fields, I can hunt, carry a knife or use a gun. But I tell you,” you and Abigail scooted closer to eavesdrop as Sadie’s voice lowered. The two of you didn’t even look like you were trying to do chores at this point. “You keep me here, I’ll skin this fat old coot and serve him for dinner!” 

“Watch your damn mouth, you crazy goddamn fishwife!”  

With a scream, Sadie threw herself at Pearson. Arthur was standing between the two but she struggled to get away and lay her hands on the camp cook. Pearson walked backwards with his hands up but had no fear of her catching him. Arthur threw Sadie back and put his hands between them. 

“Enough! Both of you. Well, come with me then. You wanna head out there? Run with the men? So be it. But we do more than just hunting we’re hunted. And them things hunting us they got guns of their own.”

Sadie replied with a simple but resounding remark. “I ain’t afraid of dying.” 

Her eyes showed this was absolutely true. Just because she was happy to be living didn’t mean a change in that plan would upset her by any means. 

“Mrs. Marston! Ms. Moore! You two look...well, you look guilty of something. What in the hell are you doing with that chicken feed? It’s everywhere!” 

You and Abigail had wandered over to the commotion and not even checked the feed in many minutes. The chickens were well outside their area, but well fed if nothing else on their new path through camp. 

“Sorry, Arthur. We wanted to see what all the yelling was about,” Abigail spoke up. “You going into town? I need a few things, can you all grab it for me?” 

“You don’t wanna come?” 

She shrugged back. “Nah, I’ve got too much around here to do. But YN will go! She won’t say it but she’s antsier than anything to get out of camp for awhile.” She lightly shoved you in Arthur’s direction and took off back towards her tent with the two empty feed bags. When no one else was looking she winked over her shoulder at you. 

Arthur checked with Pearson if he needed anything from town but all he had was a letter to be sent and a short grocery list. Both were tucked away into Arthur’s satchel and he directed you two over to the wagon to head out of camp, giving a hand up as the jump was too high in your long skirts. As Sadie was the reason you were leaving camp you let her sit in the front with Arthur, and you took the back with your knees tucked up under your chin. The autumn breeze was heavenly and you closed your eyes as the wagon rolled out. 

Sadie and Arthur threw witty quips back and forth, testing the limits of their new bond. She was a smart woman who, now that she actually spoke, was someone you could learn a lot from. The few years Sadie had on you showed instantly. Swearing and shooting were not unfamiliar to her from her old life. 

“Dear Aunt Cathy.” 

The words pulled you out of your head and back to the preset. You had been admiring some clouds on the horizon, but turned and put your arms over the wood separating you and your companions at Sadie’s voice. 

“That what I think it is?” you asked. Arthur looked in your direction and rolled his eyes, knowing he had lost. “Leave that poor fool alone then.”

“No,” you giggled. “Continue on, Mrs. Adler.” 

Sadie cleared her throat and made a face that resembled Pearson. “I haven’t heard from you in some time, so I prayed to the Lord above that your health has not deteriorated further…blah, blah, blah, that’s boring. Oh! Listen to this. Since we last corresponded I have traveled widely, making no small name for myself. Before you ask, I am still yet to take a wife but I can assure you it’s not for the lack of suitors!” 

The three of you laughed so hard Arthur careened the wagon off the path and narrowly avoided hitting a rock. Wiping tears from her eyes, Sadie flipped the letter over. 

“What’s this? Return to Tacitus Kilgore.” Arthur went on to explain how Dutch wanted all of the gang’s mail to be sent to one fake name so they would never lose anything even if they traveled from town to town. 

Thinking back on your home of Blackwater, you remembered dust. It was stuck between every brick in the road and then some. Rhodes was an entirely new level. 

Before the wagon was even parked the dust permeated you. It was in your hair and on your skin and you hadn’t even moved yet. The beating sun only made it worse, and the lack of rain was obvious from the low levels of water in the buckets situated around town. Arthur parked near the entrance of the town and in the shade of the general store. 

“So, what’s the plan, I shoot the shopkeeper while you -”

“No!” Arthur lunged at Sadie and swatted the gun out of her hands. It swung wildly for a moment and you dove down below the sight level in the back of the wagon. “You insane?”

“I thought we was outlaws!” 

“Outlaws, not idiots. We rob fools that rob other people. These people, they’re just tryin’ get by.” 

Sadie marched off to the grocer clearly disappointed she wasn’t going to be shooting anyone on their adventure. Arthur held his arms up and helped you down, his strong hands grabbing your waist and setting you gently on the ground. 

“Jesus, that woman is something else.” he chuckled and guided you to the main street and off to the post office. 

A train was arriving full of visitors who ogled the small town through their clean glass windows. All they saw was a main road with shops, trees, and lots and lots of dust. You could have complained about that damn dust all day long, but you had to keep your mouth shut otherwise half of it would end up in your stomach. 

Arthur held the peeling green door to the station open for you to pass first. He wanted to go up to the teller alone so you wouldn't be seen, so you mosied around and admired the paintings up on the walls. Most were amateur and just of green landscapes, but one of the ocean caught your attention and your fingers traced the crashing waves on the small canvas. Seeing the ocean in person had always been a dream of yours. The lake was wonderful, sure, but to see the ocean? In person? You had always imagined how the blue water would stretch as far as you could see, and even further in every direction. 

As soon as the letter was posted, Arthur walked over to join you. “You ready?” You nodded and followed him back outside, admiring the small garden of grass that surrounded a bell with a plaque laid down. You wondered what it commemorated but didn’t have time to stop, so you mentally added it to the list of things you wanted to see again. 

No one was by the wagon so you continued down through the street. A butchers shop, a gunsmith, a saloon, and a few various other shops and buildings made up the whole area. 

“Makes you feel like civilization ain’t out here yet. Blackwater was hell, but at least they knew how to pave a road.” The disdain in your voice was obvious and Arthur turned mockingly towards you. 

“Why, Ms. Moore! You are a true city slicker. Talking about civilization and roads, makes it sound like you was born in an ivory tower with servants and butlers.” 

A laugh burst from your chest at his sarcasm. “An ivory tower! That’s what you think of me. All I wish for was a little but less dust…” as you spoke you shook out your green skirt and a wave of that wretched stuff came off. 

“Oh. I thought that was blue.” You didn’t answer him but stared daggers instead, making sure he got the message. 

“Nah, I know you ain’t some uppity princess. Just takes awhile to learn how to fit in anywhere like we do, I guess. It’s been, what, five? Six months now? You’re doing just fine, Ms. Moore. I’ve been running with these fools for nearly twenty years, so I figure I can teach you a few things. Just takes time is all.” He smiled down at you, and your heart warmed in your chest. 

He may be an outlaw, but something about Arthur Morgan had captured your attention over the past few months. There were rough edges to him, but that wasn’t it. More often than not his blue eyes were crinkling into some sort of a smile,whether sarcastic or serious, and he had a deep, rumbling laugh that was infectious to those in camp. You had seen him turn on a dime into someone ruthless and wild and be completely different if he needed to, but it was never aimed at anyone he cared about. And he was always writing in that journal of his which you would have given just about anything to peek into. The writer had attracted the reader, how poetic. 

Someone was barking orders by the wagon and Arthur was suddenly on edge. The two of you neared, and saw Sadie berating the poor delivery boy as he loaded the crates into the back.  

“Jesus, kid! My grandma has more strength than you! Lift up them crates.”

A new woman stood before you. Now in a bright yellow top, dark brown pants, suspenders, and a leather gun belt topped with a wide brim hat, Sadie had come into her own. The few minutes you left her alone had allowed her to blossom. And she looked damn fine. 

Arthur whistled and walked around as Sadie showed off her new threads. “Damn, Sadie! Who woulda thought.”

“Here, YN. I grabbed you a few things as well.” She handed you a package and you stowed it on the wagon. The heat was enough now that you twisted your long hair up into a bun and used your hand to fan yourself. 

“Any chance there’s a new hat in there, Mrs. Adler? I’m dying in this heat.” 

Sadie nodded and motioned back towards the wagon. Arthur was impatiently already seated in the front and you climbed in the back again, eagerly ripping into your present. 

The first item was blue, your blue. The shade that you wore all the time and loved, and it turned out to be a beautiful long skirt. Luckily the material was light so you could wear it often in the heat. Next Sadie had gotten you a few practical shirts, a bandanna, and at the bottom was your hat. It was more fashion oriented than hers with a rounded dome versus her flat one, but you could have cared less. It was a blessed relief to not have the sun on your face and Sadie flashed a full smile as you put it on and modeled for her. 

Mrs. Adler drove the wagon home. It wasn’t as rushed as when Arthur drove for she constantly got distracted by things on the side of the road. She pointed out interesting people and funny buildings to you while Arthur lounged in his seat with his feet up. 

They chatted easily, and it was the first time Mrs. Adler had really opened up. She actually joked about what happened in Colter with the O’Driscolls, and Arthur apologized and offered to find her a new harmonica to replace one she had lost years ago. It was clear you both had the same idea of what you wanted in this gang; to be equal. There was certainly differences between you and how you approached it, but it didn’t mean that people should take either of you any less seriously. 

As the wagon rolled on, you laid your head on crossed arms and watched the scenery go by. Wild flowers were sprinkled across the fields clouds dotted the bright blue sky. It couldn’t have been a more beautiful country day if it tried. 

A man rode up right next to you and hollered, startling all three of you. “Hey there! What are you folks up to?” He eyed the groceries in the back of the wagon, and gave you a one over that made your insides curl. Arthur sat at attention and you were suddenly aware that your guns were all back at camp. 

Sadie called back, “Just heading home. Day in town leaves folks real tired.” She casually moved her inside hand to her hip where her new holster sat. 

“You’re in Lemoyne Raider country. You need to pay a toll to pass through here.” The horses kept pace with the wagon and your heart started to beat faster. 

Arthur called back lazily, ‘’No. I don’t think so. We ain’t pulling over for nobody.” 

Sadie reached across to address the main Lemoyne Raider with the business end of her gun. “Hey! How’s about this?” And fired right into his belly. 

Arthur reached back and shoved you down as he fired his pistol at the other rider, narrowly missing him as he leaned forward and galloped his horse. The wagon plowed forward across railroad tracks and Sadie grabbed the reins again, yelling at the horses to keep moving as fast as they could. 

More riders approached from all sides. “Give me a gun!” Panic laced your voice, and Arthur began to protest but Sadie had no hesitation as she tossed you her rifle. The wagon was gaining speed again and rocking more but you steadied yourself against the boxes and took aim. 

“There must be at least four back here!” 

After one round, you knew where to aim. The gun felt heavy in your hands but it was a fight or flight response, and damn did you want to fight. Three riders fell as you shot them down, trying not to think too much about it, and you missed as the fourth finally raised his shotgun at you. His shot landed close, but struck the wall of the wagon. 

You laughed maniacally and Sadie whooped in encouragement. Arthur had eliminated the riders ahead and swung himself into the back of the wagon to assist you. 

“Where’d they all go?” He whipped around confused after hearing you yell. 

“Only a few left. Got the other ones with Sadie’s rifle.” He looked over at you impressed, pride showing on his features. Then aimed and the last two riders were dead before they even hit the ground. 

After a good few minutes of riding on, Sadie felt safe enough to pull the wagon over to the side of the road. 

You put your hands on your knees to catch your breath while Sadie checked the supplies to see if anything had fallen off. 

“Told you I could shoot a gun, Arthur.” He stood above you, eyes scanning the horizon to make sure you weren’t followed. 

He chuckled lightly. “I don’t remember asking you to prove it, Ms. Moore. You alright there?” 

“‘Course. Just the heat and all that excitement. This new hat is wonderful Sadie!” She waved back as you hollered over to her at the wagon. 

“You’ve, uh, you’ve got something…” you reached up to Arthur’s face as you noticed the dirt on his cheek, gently wiping it away with the pad of your thumb. He didn’t flinch at the contact this time and it almost seemed like he leaned into your touch. You smiled up at him and let your hand fall back. 

“You two ready or what?” Sadie was already at the reins, ready to leave. You pulled yourself up to the back of the wagon as Arthur climbed to the bench and directed the way back to Clemens Point. 

“That’s a lot of mess to make near camp. Hope it don’t bring anyone sniffing around.” Arthur shifted in his seat, and the lake finally came into view. 

You could see Charles on guard duty and decided to keep him company, so the pair let you jump off and you waved as they rode the rest of the way into camp. 

“Don’t go ribbing Pearson about that letter, Sadie.”

“How dare you? I wouldn't dream of it. ‘I have traveled widely making no small name of myself…’” Arthur and Sadie rolled out of view as you approached Charles. 

 A wide smile and a handful of candies met you. You took the one happily, throwing the mint flavored snack into your mouth. 

“Rhodes is just as awful as we feared, Charles. No hope of salvation anywhere!” He stared at your dramatics while you fanned yourself with the new hat from Sadie. 

“How is Mrs. Adler?” He asked kindly. 

“Better. I think. She seems to be moving in a new direction that’s good for her. Nearly killed us all, but saved our skins as well. I think she’s a complicated woman.” 

Charles laughed at this. “Aren’t you all? Complicated, that is?” 

You leaned back against a tree and answered, “Only in you don’t speak the language, Charles. Only if you don’t bother to try.”

#the price to be paid #price to be paid #chapter 10 #this was so much fun #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fanfic #red dead redemption #rdr2 #reader fanfic #fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur x reader #arthur morgan x reader #sadie adler #Charles Smith

[snarkybluechristian]

Hazbin Hotel: Yandere Alastor x Vaggie Chapter 6

Vaggie immediately tossed the shoes to the side and began running through the house as quickly as she could.  She bolted up the stairs and only allowed herself to catch her breath when she was back on the floor that she remembered her bedroom being on. As Vaggie leaned against the blood-red wall, her eyes settled on a mirror on the wall across from where she was standing.  In the mirror, Vaggie could see the bruises on her neck.  They didn’t camouflage into her purple skin at all.  The spots were dark red, fresh, and plain to see.   A shudder ran through Vaggie’s spine.  Alastor was no genius at romance, but he was right about hickeys.  They were a way to mark territory.   Vaggie covered them with her hands fearfully as she remembered her “patrons” back in El Salvador and what they did when they started getting possessive. Vaggie felt a fearful tear run down her cheek before she took a deep breath to give herself strength.  She would not be a rich man’s property.  Not again… “I don’t care how obsessed you are with me,” Vaggie said turning away from the mirror and wandering around her room searching for Angel as she briefly reflected on Alastor’s behavior. It was beyond creepy, especially that line, “Women are made to bear and so are you…” Vaggie shook her head and forced herself to focus on the task at hand.  What happened happened, but Angel still needed her help. Vaggie crept the hallway quietly listening for any sign of Angel. “Alright, if I were a freaky, sex-crazed Mary Poppins, where would I hide my victims?” Vaggie questioned out loud. Suddenly, Vaggie heard the sound of Angel’s screams coming from just ahead of her. “AHHHHHHHH!” Angel screamed out in agony before he laughed painfully.  “Oh, baby!  More!  More!” His voice caused Vaggie to shudder fearfully in her tracks as she finally found the room, twisted the knob open, and peeked inside. Vaggie held her hands over her mouth to cover her horrified gasp.   Angel was chained on a rack with his back exposed, his arms chained up, and his legs held in restraints.  The poor spider demon had scars on his back from the leather whip Rosie was holding in her hands. In a flash, Rosie lashed her whip against Angel’s bare back again causing the spider demon to scream out in agony. Rosie turned the wheeled contraption Angel was strapped to around, wrapped her leather-covered leg around his waist, pushed her chest against his, and asked, “Are you sure about that, sweetie?” “I can take anything you can dish out, lady,” Angel said before his eyes locked with Vaggie’s.   Angel’s eyes flashed in panic as Rosie’s wrinkled lips locked with his. Then Angel said, “Lady, please, this is torture…” “Oh?” Rosie asked licking Angel’s cheeks.   “Yeah,” Angel answered with a smirk.  “You pressing your sweaty, saggy tits against my bruised chest really stings!” Rosie then kicked Angel in the chest, spun him around, and began whipping him more viciously than before. It suddenly occurred to Vaggie that Angel said this on purpose so that Rosie would be distracted.  She quickly glanced around the room for anything she could use as a distraction.   Vaggie’s eyes settled on a vase on a table down the hall holding more of those blood red flowers.   The vase gave her an idea.  It was a bad one, but bad ideas were better than no ideas at all at this point.  So, Vaggie pulled out a spare knife she had hidden on her person and tossed it at the vase causing it to shatter on contact.   Vaggie then backed herself against the wall and held her breath as she heard Rosie stop her whipping and run into the hall.   When she dared to look at her, she had to keep herself from gagging.  Rosie was dressed in a leather dominatrix outfit with absurdly high stripper heels.   “Oh, Vaggie…” Rosie called out upon noticing the broken vase.  “You silly, silly little girl.  You should know better than to interrupt my playtime…” In a flash, Rosie dashed right down the hall and disappeared out of sight.   When she vanished, Vaggie breathed a sigh of relief and ran back into the room to see Angel panting in exhaustion. Vaggie quickly shut the door and said, “Angel…?” “Is she gone?” Angel quickly interrupted.   “Yes, I think so,” Vaggie said quietly. “Oh, thank God,” Angel said breathing a sigh of relief.  “I’m so glad you’re here.” “Shhh…” Vaggie said running over to the other side of the rack to look Angel in the eye.  “I’ll get you down, but you have to be quiet.  You got it?  How do I get you down from there?” “The keys are on that table,” Angel said gesturing with his head to a bedside table with a lamp and a book on it. Vaggie quickly grabbed the keys and began releasing all of Angel’s limbs from the rack.  When she was done, Angel fell forward on the ground tiredly. “Angel, are you alright?” Vaggie asked fearfully worried that Angel was injured.  “Can you walk?” “Yeah, babe,” Angel said with a smile as he reabsorbed his extra pair of arms and got to his feet while putting on his coat that was lying on the floor.  “How about you?  I see those hickeys.  Alastor must be a rougher lover than I imagined.  I’m jealous.” “It was completely non-consensual.  I assure you,” Vaggie said angrily as she began pushing the contraption towards the door to block it.  “Now, we need to get out of here before…” “There you are!” the merry British demon’s voice called out as she stopped the contraption where it stood.  “What are you doing here, Vaggie?  Did you want to play, too?  Angel and I could always use another partner…” Vaggie pushed back against Rosie’s grip before she felt Angel grabbing her arm and pulling her back behind him just as Rosie rolled the contraption across the room to get a better look at her captives. Angel stepped in front of Vaggie as he summoned his Tommy gun and his bat.   Vaggie looked around for a weapon and only found the book and the lamp, so she grabbed the lamp off the table with one hand and grabbed the book to use as a shield. “Oh, dear,” Rosie said with an amused smile.  “Do you two intend to fight back?  How adorable.  I love it when I can get down and dirty!” “Bring it on, you dominatrix bitch!” Vaggie spat back.   Angel stuck his tongue out and said lewdly, “I’m gonna screw you as you screwed me, ya crazy bitch.  I hope you’re ready.” “I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Vaggie said out loud.   “Make your way to the window,” Angel muttered to Vaggie gesturing his head back towards the window.  “And prepare to jump…” “Got it,” Vaggie replied with a nod. “Oh, I am so defenseless,” Rosie retorted sarcastically putting one hand on her hip and twiddling her fingers against her face with the other hand.  “What’s a little old lady to do?” Then with a snap of her fingers, Rosie summoned her umbrella and six penguin familiars and said, “Ladies, how about you show these brutes some manners?” “Bring it, bitch!” Angel yelled back as Vaggie threw open the window.  “Vaggie, grab on!” Vaggie dropped her lamp and grabbed onto Angel’s side as he dissolved his bat and picked her up with his extra arms, but unfortunately before Angel and Vaggie could jump out the window, the window slammed in their face. “Enough!” Alastor’s voice suddenly rang out.   The three demons and penguin villains turned to look at Alastor who suddenly appeared on the other side of the room.   “I believe we can settle this dispute in a more civilized manner,” Alastor said stepping between the two warring parties.  “That is if you two are willing to cooperate…” Angel reflexively held Vaggie tighter against his side and took another step backward as Alastor continued, “How about this?  Vaggie, if you stay with me, I will let this hairy mess go.  Then as long as you are obedient and loving, I will let you visit the Hotel once a month.  What do you say, dear?” Vaggie knew she didn’t have a choice.  Angel couldn’t stay there.  He had already suffered enough.  If Vaggie said no, Angel would spend the rest of eternity as Rosie’s sex slave.  Not even he deserved that. “I’ll…” Vaggie began before she felt a hand cover her mouth. “Hold it right there, bucko,” Angel interrupted as he pointed his gun straight at Alastor.  “You have to fuckin’ insane to think that I’m goin’ to just leave and let you pound Vaggie like a goddamn piece of meat.  I ain’t leavin’ without her.  And if that means I have to claw my way outta here with her, so be it.” Alastor’s eyes twitched for a brief second before he flashed a cruel smile, snapped his fingers causing Angel’s gun to disappear and Vaggie’s lamp to disappear, and said, “Suit yourself then.” Before either Angel or Vaggie had time to react, Alastor tapped his staff on the ground and instantly teleported everyone present into a dark, cool dungeon room.   The cell was built completely out of gray stone.  It was oddly spacious and horizontally long, able to hold the four demons comfortably, and that was about the best thing about it.   There were a toilet and a sink with a mirror on the back wall on one end of the cell to their right, a single bed with a bare mattress and pillow on the other end of the cell to the left, and chains hanging on the bare wall between them.   The only light sources were a lightbulb with a pull-string hanging from the ceiling and a small, horizontal window about the size of a two-by-four board above the bed where the light met the ceiling.   Iron prison bars made up the fourth wall.  Their cold, menacing, vertical poles were spaced evenly and only interrupted by an iron bar door on the very right which at the moment was hanging open with a black key hanging in the lock of the door much like it would be in jail cells from the 1930s. Vaggie and Angel looked around fearfully at their new surroundings.  The cell was oddly clean, but there were still faint blood stains on the walls where the chains were.  That was enough to make Vaggie let out an involuntary gasp. “You know, Alastor…” Rosie began interrupting the thoughts of the two frightened prisoners practically backed up against the wall as she dismissed her minions and leaned back against the prison bars.  “Vaggie hasn’t had a chance to answer the question herself.” “Hmmmmm…you’re right, Rosie,” Alastor replied with a smile glancing back at her before returning his gaze back to Vaggie.  “So, what is your answer, Vaggie?  If you stay here with me willfully, I will let Angel go, but if you refuse, he will stay and you two will both be at our disposal.  So, tell me.  What will it be?” Vaggie squirmed until Angel finally dropped her on the floor and then slowly walked up to Alastor looking him in the eye as much as her smaller frame would allow. “Vaggie…” Angel tried to complain. Vaggie held her hand up to tell Angel to be quiet and said boldly, “Alastor, I promise to spend every day for the rest of my eternal life fighting for my freedom.  I will never give in to you!” Alastor’s eyes narrowed as he said, “Well, then.  As punishment for your defiant behavior and your trespassing, you two can spend the night in this cell…” Alastor, Rosie, and Rosie’s minions instantly teleported outside the cell.   Alastor quickly locked the door, took the key, and continued, “Rosie and I will come for you in the morning, Vaggie.  Have a good night, you two!” The Radio Demon quickly right down the hallway out of sight.  Rosie stood there for a second quietly flashing a cruel smile as her familiars disappeared before finally following behind her friend. Vaggie stood in place tensely as Angel laid himself out over the bed and stretched out his limbs. “Well, looks like you and I are spending the night here, Vaggie,” Angel said nonchalantly folding his arms behind his head on top of the pillow.   Vaggie didn’t respond but continued staring at the hallway in front of their cell. A look of concern flashed through Angel’s eyes before he said, “Hey, doll?  Vaggie?  Are ya there?” Vaggie finally looked over to Angel. The spider demon tapped the old mattress and said, “What do you wanna do, doll, the day is still young?” Vaggie tiredly sat on the bed next to him holding the book on top of her lap and sighed.  She glanced over to Angel and cringed when she noticed him staring at her with a smirk. “Why are you staring at me like that?” Vaggie demanded. “You still owe me,” Angel said playfully. Vaggie looked at Angel in confusion until she finally had her revelation. “Oh, my God,” Vaggie said in growing annoyance. “What?” Angel asked playfully. “You only stayed here because I owed you?!” Vaggie yelled. Angel sighed with a playful smirk that got on Vaggie’s nerves and said, “It beats the therapy sessions back home.  Besides, this was too good an opportunity to pass up, babe.” Vaggie took a deep breath to calm down and conceded, “Okay, fine.  What the hell do you want?” “Just give me a moment to…” Angel said nonchalantly allowing himself to wonder before he got his idea.  “Wait.  I know just the thing!” Angel sat up, threw off his coat to reveal his bare chest, posed dramatically, and said, “I want you to snuggle between my fluffy tits!” “WHAT?!” Vaggie asked incredulously.  “You can’t be serious!” “I’m completely serious,” Angel said playfully running his gloved hands through his chest fluff.  “My skin under my fur gets cold.  I need warmth.  Think of it as my way of saying thanks.  I don’t let anyone do it for free.  My customers say it’s like heaven in here.” “Forget it,” Vaggie said in annoyance putting the book at the head of the bed next to Angel’s pillow and laying down so that she was not facing him.  “I’ll just use the book.  I’m not resting my head on your STD-contaminated fur.” “Hey!” Angel retorted.  “I’ll have you know that I wash it every day.  But if that’s how you feel, babe, suit yourself.” Vaggie laid down for a few minutes but very quickly got uncomfortable.  She turned over and stared at Angel’s chest longingly.  His fluff looked so soft and silky… “Like what ya see, hon?” Angel teased. “Fine,” Vaggie snarled as she reluctantly sat up and climbed on top of Angel’s chest.  “But this never happened.  Understand?” “Whatever you say, hon,” Angel retorted playfully as Vaggie slowly lowered her head onto Angel’s fluffy chest.   Vaggie lowered herself gingerly as if she were getting used to hot water in a bathtub. Angel rolled his eyes and used his lower pair of arms to push Vaggie’s head on top of his chest.   “Angel?!” Vaggie yelled in protest before her head sank into the chest fluff.  “Oh, my God.  This is so soft…It feels like cashmere…” Angel chuckled as his lower arms pulled his coat over Vaggie and himself to keep them warm. “That’s it, doll,” Angel said soothingly as his arms rested on Vaggie’s back.  “Just relax.  We both need this.” Vaggie tensed up again as she began to realize the gravity of the situation that they were in.   Vaggie began shuddering fearfully and taking shallow breaths, but before it could get any worse, Angel started rubbing her back.  He didn’t say or do anything else.  He just rubbed her back until her breathing finally returned to normal. Angel then took a deep breath and picked up the book next to his head.   “What’s this?” Angel said before he read the title.  “The Taming of the Shrew?  Oh, my God!  I haven’t seen this one in decades!” Vaggie lifted her head up and scowled. “That book again?” Vaggie asked incredulously.  “Dammit.  Alastor tossed me that fucking book yesterday to entertain myself while he ran off to talk to Rosie.  The nerve of that guy.  What’s that book about anyway?” “It ain’t a book, doll,” Angel replied excitedly turning open to the first page.  “It’s a Shakespeare play.  We read it in school.  Oh, God, this one was one of my favorites!  It’s been forever.  Want me to read it to ya?” “We still have daylight and we’re gonna be stuck in here until tomorrow morning, so why not?” Vaggie conceded. “Alright,” Angel said excitedly.  “I’ll try to explain all the stuff that’s kinda confusin’, but just let me know if you’re having trouble followin’ along.” Vaggie smiled and relaxed into Angel’s fluff as he began reading the story. 

#hazbin hotel #hazbinhotelvaggie #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbinhotel angeldust

[supernatural-idjit-95]

The Curses We Utter, Pt. 3

"The Judge & The Jury”

Series Masterlist

Summary: Reader gets help from Cas unexpectedly; who unveils something about her even she didn't know...

Notes: Hi hi!! I've loved writing this so far- please leave feedback, I live for that!! Also, yes there is smut upcoming-as mentioned, this is a slow burn and the part 4 will be juicy :-) Enjoy, you filthy animals!!

Word Count: 8014

Warnings: ADULT CONTENT! Slow burn, smut is coming I promse...trigger warning (anxiety possibly)! Cursing, mentions of tortue, violence, and so forth

*****

A man with stunning blue eyes, a trench coat and tie stepped into the light. 'Holy fuck. If that's not an Angel, I don't know what is.' "I know who, and more importantly, what she is." Cas spoke finally. Dean crossed his arms. "And…? You wanna share with the rest of the class? 'Cause Pinocchio over there can't spell it out for us!" Cas threw an annoyed glare at Dean, who straightened up pretty quickly. How did Cas know about you? Cas sighed, then continued. "Not too long ago, I heard of her-more like FELT her-when she was born. It shook every supernatural being on this Earth." You gulped. Jesus…surely he's joking. "I…I kept a close watch over her. Obviously, any form of Nephilim is forbidden, and hunted immediately by Heaven. But…she was different." Your eyes locked with his then, and you felt like you might melt. Hearing a story about yourself that you'd never known nearly broke you; you knew so little about yourself as it was. "Her mother was an Angel, and her father is a Demon. She is a hybrid Nephilim, something that has never existed…ever. It felt wrong to end her life…" Cas cleared his throat and broke his gaze with you, looking from Dean to Sam. "I assigned my sister Hannah to look after her, to make sure she had what she needed after her Mother's execution. But-" You interrupted Cas's voice by the sound of your broken sob. Your Mom was dead, EXECUTED. You knew for sure now. For years you had no closure, and you chose to believe that she was alive, maybe in hiding, until you knew otherwise…and now you did. You had prepared yourself for it for so many years, but it didn't help. You were heartbroken. Cas walked closer toward you. "I'm…sorry. I had reasons to believe that you were aware of your Mother's fate." He said, trying to sound comforting, but he was seriously awful at it. You tried to shake your head no, but the metal restraint around your neck held you firm. All you could do was cry. "No, I-I didn't…I didn't know." You replied. Sam broke the silence. "We're sorry about your Mom, (y/n)…we know what it's like. But seriously…she's the child of an Angel and a Demon? How the hell does that work?" He questioned, looking to Cas. He shook his head. "I'm not certain, but since they both possess human vessels…anything is possible I suppose." Dean eyed you up and down. "Yeah, well…obviously. I mean (y/n) exists- but why didn't we know about her until now?" "There's never been a reason to bring (y/n) up Dean. I was keeping her safe." Cas replied matter-of-factly. Cas gave you a sad smirk, then turned back to Sam and Dean. "We have much to discuss. But I assure you, (y/n) is harmless. She means you no harm." Dean finally caught your stare, and the emotion in his eyes told you he was ashamed of what he'd just put you through. You didn't blame him though, how could you? You knew far too well about watching your back… Sam cursed under his breath once more, "We're so sorry (y/n)…we had no idea…" Sam's words trailed off, unsure of what he could say to help the situation. Cas spoke again, more urgently this time. "Sam, I need your help in the library-we're going to need multiple educational materials." Sam smirked at Cas with a chuckle. "You mean, you want help finding books on lore pertaining to (y/n)?" He asked. Cas nodded. "Yes, that's what I said." Before he left, Cas took Dean by the arm and pulled him several feet away from you as Sam exited. He pulled him close and whispered something in his ear that you couldn't hear, and you saw Dean nod and clap Cas on the shoulder as he followed Sam to the library. Dean hung his head in dismay as he made his way over to you. 'God damn, way to look like a puppy that just got kicked…' "Let's get you outta this chair." Dean quickly and precisely made work of the restraints, releasing every last one that held you.

===>>>>> *DEAN'S POV* <<<<<===<> 'What the hell have I done?! I freaked out. I fucking panicked like a friggin' IDIOT!! She was just starting to trust me…she never will, now.' I was sure my heart fucking broke when he learned the truth about (y/n). She was only trying to protect herself… I was moving as fast as I could to get (y/n) outta that chair. I needed to make this right-and Jesus, she was still shaking. She's probably terrified of me now, I'll never regain that trust back. Fuck, I hurt her-physically. I should have never been that rough with her, even if she was working for demons. (Y/n) didn't deserve that. I held out my hand to help her out of the chair, but she wouldn't take it. That's the first time a woman has ever made me want to cry-I didn't-but God damn, I wanted to. "I'm sorry, (y/n)…I had no idea. I um-I was trying to protect me and Sammy. That's all." I was stumbling over my words, there was nothing I could say to fix this. "It's okay Dean. I get it." That was all she said back to me. (Y/n) placed her hands on the arms of the chair and tried to stand, but she couldn't. Her legs shook beneath her from adrenaline and fatigue. "Please, (y/n) let me help-" I tried to reach down to help her up, maybe carry her, she looked so tired. But instead she held her palm up at me. "I don't want your help…" And then those eyes again… 'God! I can't fucking get enough of her eyes…they're green, no maybe hazel? I'm not sure…but if I see her tear up again I just might lose it.' "Listen you can't walk, okay? Just let me get you to a room, and then I'll leave-you'll never have to see me again if you don't want to. I swear." I knew I'd just die if she really wanted me to leave. I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing her again. Go figure though! I finally find a smart, sexy (like God DAMN…that body…), powerful woman-no, a special woman, because she is-and I fuck it up in less than 24 hours. Go me. She nodded at me, and my heart jumped because that was progress to me. I got to hold her close to me again, maybe make up for what I'd done. Then my eyes caught sight of her leg…all that blood. It was my fault that those stitches busted. Roughing her up like a god damned monster…I felt like a monster. "Son of a bitch. Your leg…" I knew she already knew, she must've been in a huge amount of pain. Again, because of me. "It's alright, it stopped bleeding I think." (Y/n) said. It sounded more like a whisper to me though. I bent down and scooped her up into my arms, holding her like I was afraid I'd break her. "I'll take a look at it and fix your stitches before I go, if it's alright." I dared to ask her. She was so tired that she already had let her head fall into the crook of my neck. The feel of her hair and her skin on mine felt electric. "Um…yeah. Alright." She said back to me. Inwardly, I did a little happy dance-maybe she didn't totally despise me, after all. I walked as slowly as I could to my bedroom so that I could hold her just a little longer. I knew I told her I'd take her to 'a room', but I decided to try to set her up in mine again. There was a TV, the bed was the best in the bunker. I'd take a different room if it meant she would be a little more at home in mine. In my room now, she lifted her head close to mine as I set her on my bed, and I could've sworn our cheeks touched. "I'll be right back. Don't try to move, please? Just sit tight (y/n)." I said to her, and gave her hand a squeeze. To my amazement, she didn't flinch and she didn't pull away. She pursed her lips and didn't say anything. I paid zero attention to Sammy and Cas when I passed the library to the first aid kit. I was on a mission. Cas had said something to me before he walked out of the dungeon. He death-gripped my arm, and whispered something to me, "You WILL make this right, Dean." And I knew I'd try my damnedest to. I returned to (y/n) only a couple minutes later. Her eyes flew open when I opened the door, she must've fallen asleep. "Hey…sorry sweetheart. Didn't mean to startle you." I said, and then realized it wasn't a good idea to call her sweetheart right now. "I-It's okay. I just fell asleep, that's all." She replied. I took a seat next to her on the bed. She seemed nervous…I had to say something. "I'm so sorry." I told her, really gazing into those beautiful eyes…she needed to know I meant it. "I don't know what I can do to fix what I did. I really don't, but I hope to God you'll let me try…please?" I was willing to get down on my knees and fucking beg her. (Y/n) looked intrigued and surprised. "Dean…I'm not angry. Really, I'm not." She told me. I raised my eyebrows at her in question. Surely she was joking? She went on, "You were trying to keep you and your brother safe. Hunters like us have to shoot first, and ask questions later. I would've done the same thing…" And I must've had some really good karma, because then (y/n) actually held my hand. I was ecstatic. "I don't hold grudges Dean. I've never had the time for them. And to be honest, I've never had a friend in my life to be angry at. The fact that you're willing to be my friend even knowing what you do now…" (Y/n) wiped a tear away from her eye. "…well, I'd take a friend that screws up sometimes over no friends at all." I couldn't believe it. What an Angel she was…she really forgave me, just like that-when I knew I didn't deserve it one bit. I decided then and there, that I was never going to let this woman walk out of my life. And with that, I was going to keep her safe. I was putty in her freakin' hands, and I couldn't be happier.

                                               END DEAN’S POV

You awoke the next morning to the smell of coffee. Half-asleep, you bolted upright and took in surroundings, realizing you were still in Dean's room, in his bed. You breathed a sigh of relief. The two of you hadn't said much more to each other the night before, and you'd passed out quickly after he left the room. Your chest tightened thinking about what happened, but you chose to ignore it. 'There ya go Champ! Suppress your anger like you always do. It always works out awesome.' You thought. You closed your eyes to clear your head and ran your hand through your hair. Your fingers were caught by knots-then you caught a wiff of yourself. 'Eeww. I need a shower, stat.' Swinging your legs over the bed, you stood-you were sore and shaky, but at least you were top side. You caught eye of a bag on the floor next to the bed. On top was a piece of scrap paper with your name on it. Curiously you open it, and they were the clothes Sam had gotten for you the day before. 'Ohhh thank God. No more flannel!' You thought, inwardly jumping for joy. You let yourself into Dean's bathroom, and took the best shower you'd had in months. As you looked yourself over in the mirror, you noted the new bruise on your arm, and swore to yourself you'd make sure Dean saw it. Anger pooled in you again. You wanted more than anything to march down that hallway and beat him senseless. 'Who the hell did he think he was?! Just because he saves peoples' lives all the time doesn't mean he can treat people like that!!' You were thinking, as a painful memory resurfaced in your head. One you didn't want to think about. 'Don't think about that right now...not here. You'll make it right one day, just not today...' Your mind went back to Dean...You knew you forgave him-it was in your blood, you couldn't help it. You cared about people, and you had done some heinous things yourself. But forgiving didn't make you forget. You hadn't felt anger like this in a very long time. The last time you were this angry you had greeted Hanna with an upper-cut after she told you your Mother was nowhere to be found, and that she would look after you for now. Albeit, you weren't angry with Hanna. You were enraged at the fact you then had no parents at all. Breaking yourself from the memory, you decided to put your thoughts aside because you were too exhausted to deal with them right now. You got dressed, and chose a black v-neck t-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans out of the bag of clothes. You mentally noted that you'd definitely need to pay Sam back. Everything fit great, and he'd even bought you a pair of brown leather low-top combat boots. Hearing voices coming from the main room in the bunker, you made you way there. You found Sam and Castiel sitting at the table among several very old looking books and two laptops. Sam noticed you in the door way. "Hey! How'd ya sleep? We uh, didn't wake you…figured you needed it. But hey, you look like you're feeling better!" "It's okay Sam, I really am…it was the best night's sleep I've had in forever, thank you." You replied. "Where's Dean?" Sam pursed his lips. You could tell he was angry at his brother. "He's in the garage," He said. "Probably tinkering with Baby or something." You didn't say anything back about it, because you weren't sure what you'd say anyway. Instead of talking about Dean further, Sam smiled and offered you some breakfast and coffee; which you happily accepted. You rejoined them at the table and sat closer to Castiel, curious to see what on earth an Angel of the Lord would be looking at on a laptop. He must have sensed your curiosity. "We're reading up on a few things, Sam thinks he found a case…" Cas's voice trailed off as he was drawn back into the glowing screen in front of him. You perked up immediately, getting anxious to hit the road again to start killing some damn monsters. "What'd you find?" You asked through a mouthful of food. Sam chuckled at your excitement and answered. "I'm pretty sure it's a vengeful spirit. Easy stuff…not too far from here either." You took a drink of coffee and went on. "I could go check it out for you guys on my way out," Cas looked at you in question. "You're leaving?" "I figured since I'm doing better now I shouldn't overstay my welcome." You replied. At this Sam's face dropped, and he looked to Cas, who shut his laptop and stood. "My I speak with you in private, (y/n)?" That surprised you. You knew he said there was 'much to discuss' the night before, but you didn't think it meant you couldn't leave. You followed Cas to the library, who shut the door behind the two of you. You crossed your arms and looked at him across from you, waiting for him to talk. 'If this angelic motherfucker thinks he's about to tell me I can't leave, I will just LOSE it.' You thought. Castiel rolled his eyes, then took a seat. "(Y/n), you can leave if you'd like-but I'd like to tell you why I don't think you should." Your eyes widened at his statement-then remembered he was an Angel, just like Hannah was. She used to do that crap to you all the time. And annoying as it was, you certainly missed it. "Okay…tell me then. Why not?" You sassed. "I know you want to leave because of Dean, (y/n)." Cas said, inviting you to sit down in the chair across from him. You obliged. "I spoke with Dean last night and, I know how sorry is…and he said you forgave him?" He asked you, squinting his eyes at you like he was searching for something in yours. "Yeah, I did…big deal?" You replied. "Then why are you so ready to leave?" Cas folded his hands and sat back in his chair. You sighed in frustration and fidgeted in your chair. 'Damn angels!' "I-I don't know, Cas. Why shouldn't I?!" He pursed his lips then leaned forward. "(Y/n) the demons that had you aren't the last of those who are still searching for you. You'd be protected here, this bunker is warded against EVERYTHING you could imagine." You didn't say anything and stared at the floor, knowing he was right-as much as you hated to admit it. "And as for you and Dean…He knows he did a terrible thing to you. And trust me, he is the best man I know. But…" His voice trailed off, looking uncomfortable, like he was going to tell you a huge secret. You leaned forward. "…I can sense your anger towards him. I can also sense your mutual attraction for each other…however, he shouldn't be let off the hook so easily (y/n). Dean assumes things quickly, and makes reckless choices because of this life he leads. He trusts no one, but he expects it in return. That will make him or break him someday...and maybe you can help him realize that." "And how would I do that, Cas? He's my not my problem to fix!" You said defensively. "I'm not asking you to fix him, (y/n). I'm asking you to stay, and give it time." After you didn't say anything (you were thinking way too hard), Cas went on. "I also have a much more important matter to discuss with you, (y/n)." He said. 'Why didn't he start with that?' You thought. "Because I felt your resentment toward Dean…I thought we should discuss it." He replied. You threw your hands up at him, but smirked. "Stop reading my thoughts, Cas. It's creepy." He apologized, and he told why he needed you to stay. You listened. "(Y/n), Nephilim have powers-special abilities. They're the most powerful creatures on this earth. But to my knowledge, you don't…and frankly, I'm confused. I'm afraid that if you don't find a way to harness them, activate them so-to-speak…" Cas looked at the floor, trying to find the words. You cocked your head. 'What is he trying to say?!' "I've always been normal Cas! Are you about to tell me I'm gonna go nuclear if I don't go all 'X-Men'?!" You scoffed. He had to be kidding. "Yes, (y/n). The amount of pure energy you radiate…it's overwhelming…you just don't know how to use it yet." You felt so angry. If your parents were here, they could help you. "So you know how to use them? Do you know some 'Jedi Master' to show me the ways of the 'Force'?! Because last time I checked, I'm an orphaned freak with a price tag on my head!" Tears were welling in your eyes, and you surprised yourself at your tone. You hadn't meant to yell at Cas, and he knew that. "No I don't know how to, but Sam, Dean and I…we're looking for answers. I didn't mean to upset you. I just want to help-WE want to help. We want you to stay. Please (y/n), will you give us a chance?" No one-not anyone would be able to say no to that face. You wanted so badly to say no. Not because of Dean, but because you'd been alone for so long, that you were used to it now…it was your safe place. Pushing your fear aside, you agreed. "Yes, Cas…I'll stay. For now...as long as I have a say in how we approach this. And I want to hunt in the meantime...Deal?" You said, humbled by accepting his help. It'd been a long time since anyone sincerely wanted to help you, and these 3 men did. Granted, one of them was a dreamy-eyed asshat in need of a reality check…but you'd give it time. Cas spoke again. "Of course (y/n)..." He smiled at you sweetly, then a question formed in his eyes. "(Y/n), what is a 'Jedi Master'?"

After the conversation you had with Cas, you'd felt sick to your stomach. He'd given you a very stiff hug (at least he tried), and told you he'd be there to talk if you needed to. Your head was swimming. You knew the past few years you'd had anger issues, but who didn't? And sure, you had a short fuse…no 'tick-tick', just BOOM. You'd always accepted that as part of your personality. You found an empty bedroom to gather yourself in. Completely immersed in your thoughts, you fell back on the bed and closed your eyes. You were mentally and physically exhausted; even though you'd gotten a great night's sleep, that didn't make up for the weeks full of sleeplessness you endured. And even the million questions in your mind couldn't keep sleep from calling your name. As you dozed off, the only thing you didn't want to think about-the only memories you never wanted to relive-replayed themselves for you like a broadway musical.

*>>FLASHBACK<<*< It was the day the demons caught up with you. Earlier that morning you were stuffing your face with your quick breakfast, sitting on the rock hard bed in a grossly under kept motel room. Your eyes were glued to the TV. The morning news in Enid, Oklahoma was buzzing with footage of a dead man walking…literally. Alan Rose, a man who police found brutally murdered along with his wife Cindy the day before, was caught on a bank's security camera withdrawing his entire savings account in cash. You turned the TV off and tossed the remote on the bed. "I hate Shape Shifters." You sneered. In 10 minutes flat you were tearing out of the motel's gravel parking lot, leaving airborne rocks and a cloud of dust in your wake. By night-fall you had them pegged to an abandoned warehouse (of course) on the outskirts of town. Time was one thing you didn't like to waste-you were both Judge and Jury, and you were ready. Silver bullets were loaded in your gun, and your machete strapped to your hip. You barged in, full of adrenaline. It was quiet and dark. The street lamps from outside were the only sources of light illuminating the warehouse through it's grimy windows. The hair on the back of your neck stood, but before you could turn you were tackled from behind. Being as experienced as you were, you gained the upper hand quickly. You stood above the woman that wore the skin of the once happily married Cindy Rose. Raising your gun ready fill her with silver, you were stopped by a man's voice. "Wait! Don't hurt her!" You smirked to yourself, but didn't turn to him yet. 'And there's the second one.' Swiftly and with expertise, you knocked the woman out cold with the butt of your gun before she got a word out. Holstering your weapon, you turned to face the fake Mr. Rose, and saw he had his hands up. He was approaching you with caution. "Please, we didn't mean to hurt anyone-" You cut his words short, charging him and backing him into the wall. Your machete was pulled and across his throat. "-Bullshit!" You screamed at him, ready to bring some justice to the poor couple they'd killed. "We had to!" He was sputtering, but your intrigue let him continue. "We're running from-from our family…they do t-terrible things to people. We can't do it anymore! We don't want to...My wife and I just want to live our lives, we want to be normal-" "Stop lying to save your ass!! You're NOT normal!" Your knuckles whitened on your machete, your wrath was ready to unleash on him…until his next words left his mouth. The Shifter spoke so low you barely heard him. "Neither are you." You narrowed your eyes at him, keeping your machete tight on his neck. "You don't know a damn thing about me…" Your words faded into the air through clenched teeth as he nodded 'yes' in objection. "Oh, but I do. The others…they talk about you. There's a price on your head." Was he warning you? "Guess that makes me special then." You inhaled sharply ready to finish the job. Sensing his end coming, he spoke quickly again. "Please! Just hear me out-we won't hurt anyone else, we just want to live our lives together-" You tuned most of his rant out, still ready to kill them both. They were monsters and you were a hunter; that was how it went. "-please, just let us go! You, you're just like us, we're one in the same! We're both different, both on the run-" SLICE. Blood splattered onto your face, but you didn't flinch. You watched as the light left his eyes, and you whispered into his ear. "I am nothing like you." You finished the job-the shifters were no more. As you dropped your blood-covered self behind the wheel of your car, you stared blankly ahead at the warehouse. 'Monsters never go suburbia. He was lying so you wouldn't kill him, that's what they do.' Angrily, you yanked the car into drive. But when your tires hit the asphalt, you began to wonder if you were wrong. *>>>END FLASHBACK<<<*<

You awoke, startled and sweaty. You didn't want to relive that ever again; you were afraid it would follow you the rest of your life. The need you felt to punch something-anything-was overwhelming. Then you remembered Sam said they had a room they sparred in and used to exercise. You threw on a pair of running shorts from the bag of clothes (you noted to yourself you needed to fold and put them away), and a grey tank top that silhouetted your curves perfectly. And you kept your low-top combat boots on for good measure, since those were what you fought in. You found the room, and there was a rack of weights, more than several resistance bands (most were broken), and YES! There it was…a punching bag. Your spirits lifted instantly, and you smiled like a kid on Christmas morning. Approaching it like it'd grow legs and walk away, you ran your fingers down it. You used to have one at home, and you forgot how great it made you feel, imagining whatever you were frustrated with and just going to town on the bag. PUNCH. PUNCH. KICK. You were weaker than normal, but you smirked and kept going. 'I've still got it.' More punching, more kicks. God damn it, this felt good! You were so immersed in your furious attack on the punching bag, that you hadn't heard footsteps behind you until they were close…too close. You spun on instinct, and swung at whatever you'd heard behind you with footsteps. Oops. Dean was there, and caught your fist with his hand. 'What the actual fuck! He's got some 'Matrix-style' kinda skills.' Panting for air, you ripped your fist out of the palm of his hand and glared at him, hard. "You want me to hang my picture on that thing for ya?" Dean gestured to the punching bag. You huffed. "Nope. Why use a picture when the real thing's right here in front of me?" You replied with a dare. You turned to the weight rack and grabbed a bottle of water you'd set there earlier. Dean didn't say anything back until you were done gulping half the bottle down loudly. "Do you want to?" He asked, totally serious. He crossed his arms, and you did the same; throwing your weight into your right hip with sass. "What the hell do you mean? You want me to hit you?" You said in disbelief. Dean was unsure of himself now. "Yeah, if you want to…I mean, would it make you feel better…?" You thought for a moment. Looking at your feet, than back up to Dean who was waiting for you to answer. 'God that would feel good-just punch his gorgeous face right in the nose! What would that fix though…?' "No Dean, I don't want a freebie from you." You said, eerily calm. Then you thought for a moment, and came up with a better idea. "Fight me-just you and me. Right now." Dean was taken back, surprise etched his features as he took a step back. He shook his head at you. "No, (y/n). I'm not fighting you. Wouldn't be a fair fight." With that he only stared into your (y/e/c) eyes and didn't say another word. But he didn't run away. 'Ooohhh this mother fucker!!' What a terrible time to piss you off. "Oh! Really?! That's how you wanna play it?!" You were screaming at him, which he accepted as he stood there straight-faced, taking it. "You think because I'm a girl I can't fight as well as you?! Get fucked Dean!" You started to storm out when Dean called out to you to stop. You didn't want to, but you did. You turned to face him. "What?!" You spat at him. He flinched a little on that one. You were pretty scary when you were mad. "It wouldn't be a fair fight because you're HURT (y/n)! And I wouldn't even fight back anyway, that's why I told you to hit me!" 'He wants me to him? I'll hit him.' You thought. Your eyes were glistening with intent as you furiously stalked back toward Dean like he was your prey. He kept his feet planted right where he was, like he knew what was coming. You were seeing red, your whole body was buzzing. BAM! Your fist connected with his jawbone so hard that you thought you broke a knuckle. You shook your hand out, and saw a bloody mouthed Dean holding his jaw and righting himself up best he could. Then in a split second, you felt terrible. It didn't solve anything between the two of you…but dammit, it felt good! You were standing there staring at him, holding his jaw wincing in pain. "Dean, damn it! Why'd you let me hit you?!…" You reached up to pull his hand from his face to assess the damage you'd done. And to your surprise he let you, and he smirked sheepishly at you. It was a bloody smile, but it was there. "To make you feel better…?" He said while he used his other hand to wipe the blood from his lips. You pulled his chin closer to you to get a better look. "I uh…yeah actually. I feel better…" You chuckled a bit, until your eyes caught his. 'Why do I wanna kiss him?! Like, how does someone look that good after taking a hit?! Screw this guy!' Before those green orbs can draw you in further, you speak. "That's gonna leave a mark, Winchester. Regret the 'free punch coupon' yet?" You smirked, letting go of his chin. Almost seductively, he winked at you. "I'd let you do it again if it made you smile." And you did-until you heard more heavy foot steps treading into the room. It was Sam and Cas. "Hey guys, we found a case-" Sam stopped short at seeing Dean's face, as it was already starting to swell. "-what the hell happened to your face, Dean?!" You turned on your heels to face them both and smiled proudly. "I did." You said, puffing out your chest with your hands on your hips. Immediately, Castiel straightened his posture to stand a bit taller, glowing like a proud father. His blue eyes gleamed as he put his hands in his pockets; as if he was thinking 'She took my advice. You go girl!'. Behind you, Dean's wide-mouthed (yet still bloodied) grin still remained. He pointed at you behind your back and nodded at Sam. "Yeah, uh…she's got an arm on her!" Dean said. Sam held a confused stance, but still approved with a nod. "Huh. Not bad, (y/n)…" Then he glared at his brother with little compassion for his swelling face. "Dean, you should get that cleaned up. We hit the road in an hour."

An hour later, the four of you were piled into Baby and on the way to work the case Sam and Cas found. Sam was driving (Dean had to pop a pain pill for his jaw), Cas rode shotgun, and Dean was with you in the back seat. You were actually impressed to see Dean give up the steering wheel so easily to Sam. It seemed like he would normally have fought harder, but he put his ego aside and slid into the back seat as soon as he realized he would get to sit with you. Castiel was so happy to ride shotgun; he looked like an excited puppy on his first real drive. Sam had tried to get you and Cas to stay behind at the bunker, to which you'd said "Make me." Cas had your back again on this one, and told Sam he wasn't a babysitter. You didn't mind though. You knew he didn't mean offense by it when he winked at you when Sam and Dean turned around. The case was taking you to Denver, CO. You were so pumped; first off, it was the first hunt you were going on since you'd been taken by those black-eyed sons of bitches, and second: COLORADO. You'd been there just a few months prior on a salt and burn case. It had amazing air, snow, mountains…you felt like you were on the way to Disney World. From what Sam and Cas gained from police reports and newspapers, it looked like a lone vampire was terrorizing a college town. There had been three people found dead with their throats ripped out by a 'wild animal', and a fourth person was missing. Apparently she was a sophomore at the local college, and had gone missing the same night the first victim was found dead. All of you were hopeful to find her, but none of you had high expectations…it had been days since she was last seen. It wasn't too long of a drive, thankfully. It felt almost suspenseful sitting in the backseat with Dean, but you were gleaming about it as well. Way too often, you'd catch him stealing glances at you when he thought you weren't looking. You liked it though, and that made you feel something you hadn't before. But you managed to stand your ground, not giving him any leeway. At one point you'd taken your jacket off, revealing a v-neck tank underneath. It showed a little more cleavage than you liked, but in this case you didn't mind. It seemed like it drove him mad. You'd look out the window at the scenery (you were still in Kansas, so it wasn't much), and out of the corner of your eye saw him eyeing you up and down hungrily. "Take a picture, Dean." You'd said it as if you were annoyed, but you weren't. You never wanted him to stop looking at you that way.

After obtaining a new pair of 'FBI Threads' (as Dean referred to them), the four of you had split up to question the local coroner's office and the surrounding bars that attracted the most college kids. You went with Cas to check out a few bars, and Sam and Dean handled the coroner's office. After being kicked out of the first bar, you took over the questioning, though…being an Angel, Castiel lacked the ability to drive loaded questions to home base. "You can't just ask someone if they've seen a dude with fangs, Cas!" You scolded him. "I was getting to the point, (y/n). The man was busy, he had patrons to tend to." He replied, not missing a beat (or so he'd thought). Thankfully, the third bar proved to be a hit after you flirted your way to some answers from the very nervous bartender. And right on time (just as the bartender asked for your phone number), Sam texted you saying they were on their way to pick the two of you up.

Back at the motel, the four of you shared what you'd learned. Obviously, it was a vampire. But furthermore, it had to be more than one. Two of the deaths that had taken place had been several miles apart, and the victims had identical times of death. Knowing that was no coincidence, you told them about the bartender you questioned earlier. "One of the bars we went today…the bartender said he saw these two guys with the girl that went missing. Apparently, he told the cops about it. But they thought he was a whack job." You went on. "And…it gets better. He was scared out of his mind. He said those same guys rented a place a few houses down from him, and they…" You put your hands up for quotations, "'Threw off a real creepy Fright Night kinda vibe, yo'…End quote." Dean shifted on the bed he sat on. "If he talks like that no wonder the cops don't believe him…" You glared at Dean. "Ok, do you have anything better then?" He buried his face in his hands with frustration. "Okay, so…some hippy says his new neighbors are creeps. And he is positive he saw them with the chick that's missing?" You nodded. "Yes. And trust me, this guy was on edge." Sam sighed. "Alright, then we take it. Let's scope out the house, see what we can find?" He asked. 'YES.'

After the four of you changed, you headed out to the address the bartender gave you. You'd pointed the house out to Dean with the 'rapey van' (as the bartender had refered to it) parked out front. You, Cas and Sam bailed out of the car in a hurry as Dean went to park a couple blocks away. Your plan wasn't great, but if these were your perps they'd probably meet back here before going out to hunt. Sam picked the lock on the privacy fence gate, and the three of you waited behind it for Dean. It wasn't long before he was back though. Dean laid down the plan quickly, since sunset was falling. "Alright, (y/n), you'll keep watch over this side of the fence. Sammy will take the back door, and Cas will take the south side of the fence. I'll take the inside of the house. Got it?" Boy, was he excited. Cas was confused. "Why am I watching the fence, Dean? What good would that do?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright. Cas, come with me-you can take the upstairs. (Y/n) will watch the north side, she'll be safer that way." You huffed angrily, crossing your arms. "Really? You're leaving the midget in the group to watch over the 6 foot privacy fence? No. I'm coming with you." And with that, you stalked off toward the front door to pick the lock. You didn't see it, but after you walked away, a speechless Dean looked to Sam and Cas to intervene, but they both gave him a look that said 'Don't look at me.'. *** Once inside the house, you, Cas and Dean looked around. No furniture, no food, nothing. Just a few makeshift beds on the living room floor, and several bloodstained towels and pairs of clothes in the bathroom. "When did that guy say they moved in?" Dean asked you. "A couple weeks ago…you'd think they would have had their stuff in here by now." Your eyes scanned the house again, looking for anything else out of the ordinary-other than the bloodstained laundry and the emptiness. "Yeah. I'd say these are our guys." Dean gave you a thumbs up, to which you winked back at him. 'Don't flirt during hunts!!' You told yourself. Cas was upstairs now, and Dean opened his mouth to say something again when he was cut off. "Up here!" Cas's voice came urgently. Quick on your feet, you rushed to the stairs first and Dean was right behind you. Cas was waiting in the hall for you with a grim expression. His blue eyes were dimmed as he was pursing his lips, and he pointed to the bathroom in front of him. "She's dead." He stated. You looked behind you at Dean who was already charging toward the bathroom. It was the missing girl. She was ghostly pale, completely devoid of life and drained of her blood. "God dammit!" You exclaimed, but tried to stay quiet. Cas was peering through the blinds of the bedroom window beside the bathroom now keeping watch. "There's a car pulling in…" He warned you both. You and Dean barely made it down the stairs before the car door shut. You glanced about quickly trying to find a good hiding place, when you heard the sound of jingling keys outside the front door. Just as the lock began to turn, Dean pulled you with him into the closet beneath the stairs. It was so small you thought you'd suffocate. 'Even Harry Potter would bail on this closet…' The two of you listened as the front door squeal open. As it did, Dean put his hands on your waist and pulled you farther away from the closet door with him, and you didn't object. He pulled you back tight against him, his hands on your waist making your body shudder with electricity. You could hear and feel his heart beating, every move his muscles made. Then, footsteps. The front door closed and then was locked by whoever had just entered. The steps came close about to pass the closet door, and Dean tightened his grip on you, moving one arm entirely across your mid-section. As the footsteps passed, you both held your breath for fear the monster could smell or hear you. But he didn't. His footsteps faded into a room down the hall. When the door shut with a slam and the sound of a shower turning on could be heard, you both breathed a sigh a relief. During your much needed exhale, you leaned your head back until it fell on Dean's shoulder. You could feel his hot breath on your neck, leaving goosebumps in it's wake. "Should we slice and dice fang boy while he's in the shower?" You whispered up to Dean. "Nah. I have a strict rule about gankin' naked things…let's wait for the second one to show up." He whispered back to you. You waited a moment, listening for any new noises around you. Then, you weren't sure why, but you turned your gaze upwards to look at him. You were taken back when he was already looking down at you. Even in the dark, you could see his green eyes boring holes into your very soul. And by a force unknown to either of you, your faces crept closer together. Your noses touched one another's, and finally your lips grazed his. You both paused in that moment, not sure what the other was going to do. He pulled you closer into him, fingers splayed on your stomach. And before you knew what hit you, his mouth was on yours. Your lips moved with his in a slow, wanton pattern. It was soft and loving, not greedy and hasty as you'd expected. You pulled away for a moment; your foreheads touching, breathing each other in. Inwardly you were scolding yourself, saying you should stop this instant. But in a fraction of a second, your lips were tasting his again. 'Oh, fuck it.' It was intoxicating being this close to him, tasting him, and his arms enveloping you. You felt safe and wanted-and you knew you wanted him too, badly. Your kiss grew in urgency, and your lips parted slightly, granting his tongue's permission to explore your mouth. You whimpered a little at the sensation, remembering it was important to stay quiet. His hands maneuvered down to your hips, and firmly but gently pulled them into his groin, making your back arch ever so slightly so that your mouth didn't leave his. You knew you were so screwed-you loved this. The two of you were delving deeper into each other's mouths, neither of you wanting to stop for air. The way he tasted, and the way his kiss was needy but tender; the way his hands moved on you made you wish you weren't in a closet waiting to gank a vampire. And just like that, you tore away from your heated kiss to the sound of the bathroom door opening. Dean still gripped you tight, both of you breathing heavily trying desperately to steady yourselves. The footsteps passed you again, and you could hear the man was on the phone with someone. "Yeah, it came in just a bit ago actually-yeah, it's still here. He can come pick it up whenever…Yes…Yes sir-I'll have it ready." And he hung up. Dean nudged your hip, and you knew what that meant. 'Time for some ass-whoopin'.' You gripped the blade on your hip and readied yourself. Your muscles burnt with anticipation. You were ready to show this blood-sucker what being headless felt like. And then suddenly, you heard the man cry out in surprise outside the door. "What the!-" OOMPH. Something had hit him, then the sound of steel slicing through air ended with the thud of something heavy dropping on the floor. 'Did Sam just kill that son of a bitch without us?!' Just as you reached for the doorknob, the closet door was creaking open by some unknown force. In a heartbeat Dean had you behind him, ready to pounce with his blade raised. "You've gotta be kidding me!" Dean exclaimed as he saw who stood before him. You quickly craned your neck to see, but Dean's free hand held you back. A man's voice with a thick british accent answered him. "Not kidding. Out of the way Squirrel, you've got something I want." ****

#spn #supernatural #fanfic #dean/reader #dean x reader #winchesters #sammy #sam #crowley #vamps #casefic #slow burn #romance #sam winchester #cas #castiel #angel baby #nephilim #angels and demons #smut on the way! #smutty goodness upcoming #dean can be an asshole #he is awful at feelings #isn't he sweet though? #reader #reader POV #Dean winchester #violence #canon-typical violence #don't read if you're under 18!