i prefer rum


“Why is there a tentacle?“ “Garnish“

so apparently it’s billdip week and I DIDN’T KNOW but luckily I managed to fix my tablet in time to contribute! :D :D :D I wanted to make something fluffy but uh… this came out instead… so I hope this works lol

also, all bill did was shake a bottle of milk and put it in a fancy glass. you know… cuz it’s a milkshake

the continuation [link]

An Evening Away

2165 Words. One-Shot. Rated PG.

Pretzel Week - Fake Dating Trope in the Enchanted Forest

One drink. It was all Emma needed to steel her nerves. Pulling the hood up over her long plait of blonde hair, she ducked into the small tavern nearest the castle. It was a seafarer’s haunt, so she knew the patrons would largely be those passing through Misthaven on their way to other destinations. She swept in through the door and made her way past a crowd of burly sailors before settling at a small table nearest the window. She turned her back to the outside and looked around for the nearest serving wench.

“What can I get you?” A pretty young girl asked, swinging her skirts up against the table as she collected the tankards left by the previous occupants.

Emma kept her head down and hood on to avoid being recognized. “An ale, please,” she slid a shiny silver coin across the table. The girl picked up the coin and hurried off to the bar to place the order. Looking up, Emma watched the girl go before relaxing into her chair. The day had been long and arduous.

Negotiations were taking place amongst her father and the heads of several other kingdoms. Emma was required to sit in on the talks, considering she seemed to be the largest bargaining chip King David had to his name. Her future was up in the air. She would be sold off to a single King or Prince; whoever presented the largest bid. No matter how much she begged her father to reconsider an arranged marriage, he always gave her a painful smile and promised he would find the best suitor possible.

It was maddening for Emma, especially given that her late mother had spent every night in her youth telling her own beautiful love story. Queen Snow had promised the Princess an opportunity to find True Love and yet, her opportunity had never come.

“You’re somethin’ special, aren’t ya?” Came a gruff voice from the corner, snapping Emma from her thoughts. She glanced in the general direction of the sound before looking back down to the table and shifting her position to show disinterest.

“Aww, come on now,” the voice continued. There was a scraping of wooden chair legs against cobblestone floor, and heavy footsteps made their way toward her. Emma closed her eyes tightly and swallowed hard. Confrontation was absolutely the last thing she wanted. “Give us a smile, would you?” The man continued, placing two large hands on the table in front of her.

“Please, just leave me be,” she sighed, keeping her head low. “I’m not looking to be social with strangers.”

Keep reading

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End Sentence Meme
  • “All persons convicted of piracy, or adding a person convicted of piracy, or associating with a person convicted of piracy, shall be sentenced to hang by the neck until dead.”
  • “A dangerous song to be singing, for anyone ignorant of its meaning.”
  • “What makes you think I need protecting?”
  • “An unexpected death would cast a slight pall on our meeting.”
  • “He’s much like myself, but absent my merciful nature and sense of fair play.”
  • “You think because she’s a woman we would not suspect her of treachery?”
  • “This is the thief. Is his face familiar to you?”
  • “As one of the nine pirate lords, you must honor the call.”
  • “There’s more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there? And the eye does not go wanting.”
  • “Kill him, he’s not our man.”
  • “There is an evil on these seas that even the most staunch and bloodthirsty pirates have come to fear.”
  • “There must be a good reason for our suffering.”
  • “It signals when a soul comes back to this world from the dead.”
  • “It’s not getting to the land of the dead that’s the problem. It’s getting back.”
  • “We need prisoners to interrogate, which tends to work best when they’re alive.”
  • “How long do we continue not talking?”
  • “For what we want most, there is a cost must be paid at the end.”
  • “Don’t be so unkind! You may not survive to pass this way again and those be the last friendly words you’ll hear.”
  • “Dead men tell no tales.”
  • “It is neither proper nor suitable, or, it is neither acceptable nor adequate. It is in obvious fact an abomination.”
  • “This truly is a Godforsaken place.”
  • “You lend an agreeable sense of the macabre to any delirium.”
  • “Leave you people alone for a minute and look what’s happened, everything’s gone to pot.”
  • “The world needs you back something fierce.”
  • “I just thought with the captain issue being in doubt, I’d throw my name in for consideration.”
  • “The man has become a monster.”
  • “Forever seems to be arriving a mite too soon.”
  • “I prefer rum. Rum’s good.”
  • “Ten years is a long time, but eternity is longer still.”
  • “If we don’t stand together, they’ll hunt us down one by one ‘til there be none left but you.”
  • “The world’s still the same. There’s just less in it.”
  • “You paid me a great insult once.”
  • “I’m not certain I can survive any more visits from old friends.”
  • “Despair leads to betrayal.”
  • “You and I are no strangers to betrayal, are we?”
  • “Close your eyes and pretend it’s all a bad dream. That’s how I get by.”
  • “The goddess herself, bound in human form.”
  • “I’ve had more than enough experiences dealing with pirates!”
  • “You may kill me but you may never insult me.”
  • “Do you think he plants it all out or makes it up as he goes along?”
  • “You should never be anything less than what you are.”
  • “Words whispered through prison bars lose their charm.”
  • “I offer simply my desire.”
  • “You are not my captain.”
  • “If he saves me, he loses you.”
  • “He won’t pick me. I wouldn’t pick me.”
  • “If you choose to lock your heart away, you’ll lose it for certain.”
  • “Death has a curious way of reshuffling one’s priorities.”
  • “You have to ferry souls to the next world.”
  • “Immortal has to count for something, okay?”
  • “It’s too late to earn my forgiveness.”
  • “Our destinies have been entwined, but never joined.”
  • “No one leaves the ship.”
  • “For all that pirates are clever cobs, we are an unimaginative lot when it comes to naming things.”
  • “I don’t reneg on a bargain once struck.”
  • “Do not forget it was by my power you return from the dead, or what it means should you fail me.”
  • “I cannot be summoned like some mongrel pup.”
  • “She pretended to love me! She betrayed me!”
  • “Better were the days when mastery of seas came not from bargains struck with eldritch creatures, but from the sweat of a man’s brow and the strength of his back alone.”
  • “It has been torture, trapped in this single form.”
  • “Would you love me if I was anything but which I am?”
  • “Many things you were, but never cruel.”
  • “You have corrupted your purpose and so yourself…and hid away what should have been mine.”
  • “I will be free and when I am, I will give you my heart and we will be together always.”
  • “My heart will always belong to you.”
  • “Pen ‘em up together and they’ll devour each other without a second though. Human nature, isn’t it?”
  • “Can we in fact pretend that she is anything other than a woman scorned, in which fury hell hath no?”
  • “I have only ever embraced the oldest and noblest of pirate traditions.”
  • “That’s the trick isn’t it? To survive.”
  • “He was merely the tool of your betrayal.”
  • “No course is lost if there is but one fool left to fight for it.”
  • “Too long me fate has not been in me own hands- no longer.”
  • “Dying is a day worth living for.”
  • “Cruel is a matter of perspective.”

CS AU (Merlin Crossover): Tired of how Captain Jones keeps running hot and cold, Princess Emma now refuses to speak to him. So he swallows his pride and seeks out Sir Gwaine. His plan? To find out the entirety of Gwaine’s history with Emma call a truce and seek advice on what to do since, as much as Killian hates it, Gwaine has known the Princess longer.

—I prefer rum to mead, meself.
—So predictable, you sailors.
—You’re about to be an ex-
somethin’ with Emma too if you don’t get your head out your arse.
—Don’t think I still won’t run you through, mate.

how not to meet your neighbor...

To help me get out of my creative rut, @jadeddiva was kind enough to give me a few “meet ugly” prompts. Here’s a bit of modern AU nonsense, starring Killian and Emma… 

She feels like an absolute idiot. And a stalker. An idiot stalker.

Needless to say, plastered against her front door with her eye glued to her peephole isn’t exactly how she expected to spend her first night in her new apartment. But here she is, giving herself a headache from squinting through the fuzzy glass at the door across the hall. She’s almost gone over there about three times. But, three times she’s let her own pride talk herself out of taking those few steps.

She’s not a coward. She just…can’t.

Banging her forehead lightly against the wood, she turns and lowers herself to the floor in a rather ungraceful pile of tired limbs and nervous energy. From her new vantage point she comes face to face with the box that started this whole debacle sitting innocently on her coffee table just waiting to be unpacked.

3 hours earlier….

The hazy heat mixed with sweat dripping into his eyes from beneath his helmet make the beat-up yellow bug look a bit like a mirage from where it’s parked at the curb in front of his building. It’s not until he’s off his bike and raking his gloved hand through his hair does he realize the real vision is the car’s owner, a blonde with legs for days and the best ass he’s ever laid eyes on. He’s not even remotely ashamed of that thought. With her bent over into the boot to grab an overstuffed box, she’s giving him quite the unexpected show.

Keep reading


==It’s Valentine’s Day and your date ditches you. You end up going to a bar with a man you just met, and find out he’s more than what you expected.

++Dean x femReader

A/N:: I originally wrote this using an original character, so it may seem a little third-person at times.—Deana::

You pulled your phone out to look at the time, and sighed angrily when you saw that it was 20 minutes past seven. Your date either forgot he was supposed to meet you at the restaurant at six thirty, or he bailed completely.

It was a good thing the restaurant had a bar. You stood up from the table that Jason had reserved for the two of you, and strolled over to the bar, plopping yourself down into a chair. His loss, you told yourself. But you knew deep down that your dating life, in fact, sucked.

“What can I get for you, miss?” The bartender asked you, too peppy for your mood at that moment.  You controlled the urge to remind the guy that he didn’t get paid enough to be that happy on the job, but you figured you should keep your misery to yourself, and forced a smile.

“Surprise me,” You winked at him. Might as well make the best of the situation. The bartender smiled back and turned to make you something blended and frozen.

You knew immediately that the drink wouldn’t be strong enough for your needs, but you had a flask of rum that you could add to it when the bartender wasn’t looking. He turned back around, set a napkin down in front of you, then a tall glass, and finally you saw the slushy alcohol flow into the glass.  

“There you go, miss. Something sweet for the sweet gal.“ The bartender returned the wink that you had given before. He was trying, you supposed. But he was on the clock, and wasn’t exactly your type. You took a sip of the drink, and just as you suspected, it was a little weak.

You looked around the restaurant and took in the scenery for the first time since you’ve been there. It was the evening of  Valentine’s Day, so of course there were couples everywhere, wining and dining each other.

This would be the 3rd year in a row that you were alone on Valentine’s Day.
You figured it would be different when you had met Jason. You were in a coffee shop downtown which you would frequent. One day, this good looking man waltzed in and ordered himself a dark espresso.

You overheard the guys conversation with the shop’s barista and found out that he was a veterinarian. This peaked your interest, because you are an animal lover.  When Jason finally noticed you, he sat down and introduced himself. You asked him about his work, and he asked you out on a date.

But tonight he wasn’t here. Maybe he had an emergency to deal with, you didn’t know. He should have called you. Or at least shot you a text. It didn’t matter now. You were alone, on the barstool of a restaurant on Valentine‘s Day, drinking a weak pina colada.  You saw the bartender was helping someone else, so you quickly pulled your flask out and started pouring the rum in your drink.

“It’s that kind of night, huh?” A husky voice said from beside you. You hadn’t even noticed anyone sit down next to you. How long has he been there? You glanced at the bartender once more, before concealing your flask again.

You started stirring your drink then looked at the man who spoke to you, ready to turn down any ridiculous pick up line that he decided to use. To your surprise, the guy was actually really handsome. Sexy, even.

Before you could stop your reaction, you ended up giving him a once-over. He was wearing jeans, boots, and an army green jacket, with the collar slightly popped. So he looked a little on the bad boy side.

You definitely didn’t mind his taste in fashion. But his face was just perfect. He had seductive green eyes, a strong jaw line, and thick, luscious lips that were curved into a smirk at the moment.

Remembering that he had asked you a question, you finally spoke. “Yeah, you could say that.” You took a gulp of your drink, not knowing what else to say. You weren’t about to tell him your sob story.

You felt his eyes resting intensely on you, although you weren’t looking in his direction. “You’re alone on V-Day? I find that hard to believe.” He shifted in his stool to face you better, and put his elbow up on the counter.  At this point the bartender was back around, and the man ordered himself a beer. “And uh, get her a rum and coke, hm?”

This made you look at the man, and you saw him slip the bartender some money to pay for both your drink and his. He looked back and his green eyes met with yours. This brought a smile to his face. “I hope you don’t mind, you don’t seem like the fruity type.”

“Not at all, I actually prefer rum and coke.” You slightly smiled.

“Thanks.” So he was buying you a drink already, and he didn’t even know your name. This was a new low for men trying to get lucky. He seemed nice enough, though. So far. Either way, you had the feeling that you wouldn’t really care what his intentions were; he‘d still succeed.

“No problem. We single people must stick together on a night like this. It’s chaos out there.” He winked and nodded his head toward the couples scattered throughout the restaurant.

“Right,” You chuckled. “Because two single people getting together doesn’t make a couple or anything.”

“Not necessarily,” The man looked around the room as if he were studying it. “It could be more of a… mutually agreeing partnership.”

He turned his focus on you again, which made you shiver at how damn good looking he was. The drinks arrived, and you pushed you fruity drink away, then took a big gulp of your rum and coke, as if it was your first time consuming alcohol.

“So I bought you a drink, I want something in return.” Drinking his beer, he looked you over, his eyes staring a little too long at your chest. You suddenly wondered if your shirt was too revealing. You hadn’t dressed up for this guy to begin with, if you consider a v-neck t-shirt and jeans as dressing up. Here comes the sex barter, you thought.

“What’s your name?” He smirked, knowing this wasn’t what you had expected.

“(Y/n),” You answered, your eyes drifting down to look at his lips. “And yours, mystery man?”

“Dean. Dean Winchester.” He grinned. “(Y/n) is a nice name. It’s different.”

“I was named after (your choice). It’s not as fabulous as it sounds.” You laughed.

“I’ve heard worse scenarios,” Dean said. “I met a dude named Madonna once. They called him MD to avoid the embarrassment.”

“Good God, I would have changed my name the day I turned 18.” You laughed.

“That was his plan, but he ended up dying before his 18th birthday.” said Dean.

“Oh.’ Was all you could say. Why was Dean telling you this? Was this his way of small talk?

“Yeah, those nasty demons can rip you apart.” He added.

“Demons? You mean he was into drugs or something?” You asked, confused.

Dean didn’t answer you. He looked torn for a moment, as if debating whether or not to say something. He smiled again, and leaned in close to you, where you could smell the cologne he was wearing. It made your body feel warm and you bit your bottom lip in response. “What do you say we get out of here, (Y/n)? Go somewhere more casual?”

You completely forgot about your prior question, and stood up, putting on your leather jacket. You drank the rest of your rum and coke, then set the empty glass down on the counter, already starting to feel a buzz. “What did you have in mind?”

Dean stood up after you, and guided you to the front door of the restaurant. “It’s a place called Sally May’s. It’s a bar, but with less romance and more sloppy, drunken men fighting.” he said matter-of-factly.

You realized how tall Dean was. You barely met his shoulder, but it didn’t bother you, as you were pretty short to begin with. “Sounds like my kind of place. I’m always up for watching a good man-brawl.”

You tripped over the threshold of the door, and Dean caught your elbow just in time. “Sheesh, saving my life twice in one night. Are you some kind of Batman?”

“Something like that,” Dean chuckled. He made sure you had your balance once again, and led you outside.

“Nice car!” You said, inspecting the vehicle when Dean took you to it. “You’re a Chevy-driving Batman. What do you really do? I’m sure this car isn’t cheap to maintain.”

“I’m in business,” Dean said quickly, then cleared his throat. He got you into the car and shut the door, then went around and got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The car purred to life, and moved flawlessly when Dean put it into drive. “And what about you, (YnN)?” He asked.

Dean’s nickname for you threw you off-guard. You had to think a moment before answering his question. So he buys you a drink, completely avoids trying to sleep with you, accompanies you on the loneliest night of the year, keeps you from falling, and is now treating you as if he’s known you for a long time. This Dean fellow is really starting to impress you. You  started to wonder what the catch was to this setup.

“Well, I’m actually in between jobs right now,” you said quietly. “My last job went to hell in a hand basket. I was miserable there. So I saved up enough money to hold me over for a few months, until I find something I like.”

When Dean didn’t answer right away, you panicked a little. “That sounds bad, like I’m a low-life.”

“No, not at all, (Y/n). I was just trying to imagine how nice  it must feel to be free for a while.” He was quiet once again.

“Well, you seem pretty laid back. You appear to be pretty free, regardless of the business.” You said, hoping to make him feel better. “What business did you say you were in?”

“I didn’t,” said Dean. He was silent again. You noticed he was very vague when it came to his job, and began to wonder if he had a good reason for it. Was he in the mafia?  That would explain his owning the Impala. The car was in mint condition.

“I get the feeling you aren’t going to tell me.” You said. Dean looked at you quickly, then looked back at the road, clenching his jaw. Uh oh, you thought. I made him angry.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry”.

“Don’t sweat it, babe.” Dean’s smile came back,  again making him look like the Dean you’d met over an hour ago. “Well, we’re here.” He pulled into a parking spot with ease, and turned off the car. You both  got out, and when he shut his door, you noticed he didn’t lock it.

“Shouldn’t you lock the doors, Dean?” You inquired.

“Nah, there’s no need for that. If they want to steal something, I’d rather them not break a window to get to it.” Dean was at your side now, putting his arm around you. This unexpected motion made you melt inside.

“That’s a good point,” You managed to say. Dean opened the door to the bar and held it open as you stepped in. The bar was dark, and full of cigarette smoke and neon signs. There were a set of pool tables over in one corner of the room, and the main bar itself was positioned right in the middle. To the right of the bar was a stage, and to the left was the bathrooms and a door that lead out to the patio.

It was certainly a cozy ma-and-pa kind of bar, and you noticed that it was mostly occupied by middle-aged people, which surprised you. You figured a guy like Dean would go to a place where there’s more younger women, which reminded you of how you met.

You turned and looked at him. “So, if you come here a lot, what were you doing in the restaurant where we met?”

“I was just in the area. I was going to stop and get a bite to eat, but happened to see a sexy chick sitting at the bar, and I got sidetracked.” He looked down at you and grinned.

So he thinks I am sexy, huh? You weren’t going to argue with that one. You were finally having a good time, and wasn’t going to say anything to ruin that. You smiled back at him.

“Speaking of food, are you hungry?” Dean asked, looking you over. “You didn’t eat at the restaurant, I take it?”

You mentally flinched when he reminded you that you’re a ditched valentine’s date. Your stomach growled at the thought of food though, so you told him you’re hungry. You and Dean go to the bar and put your orders in.

“It’s greasy bar food, but it’s food nonetheless.” Dean bit into his burger when you got your food. “Bar food is my favorite, actually. I’m kind of used to eating it.”

“Are you an alcoholic businessman, then?” You smirked, then took a bite of a mozzarella stick. The gooey cheese stretched out as you pulled the stick away, and it finally broke free from your teeth. Dean watched you with interest, a devious smile forming on his lips.

“Not exactly, but I do like to drink.” He took a swig of his beer, and nodded to your glass. “Want another rum and coke?”

“Actually, I think I’ll change it up a bit and get a Screwdriver,” You said. “Vodka isn’t a good idea for me, but what the hell? I’m having fun!” You grinned and playfully pushed on Dean’s arm.

Dean suddenly wondered if vodka being bad for you was a good thing for him. He was finally starting to feel the buzz and was loosening up more than usual. Why he decided to pick up this beautiful girl and take her with him to a bar, instead of a motel room, was a surprise even to him. But he guessed there was a first time for everything.

“Well I’m glad you’re having a good time, (Y/n). I was hoping I still had it in me.” He laughed, and took another drink of his beer.

You received your Screwdriver and tried it out. Your lips puckered and you shook your head around. “They didn’t skimp on the alcohol with this one.” you looked at him with disbelief.

“You? I don’t think you’re capable of losing it, Dean. A good-looking man like you? It’s in your genes.” And maybe your jeans, too.

“What’s that about jeans?” Dean said, mimicking your thoughts. He looked at you sitting in the barstool. It was flattering the curves of your pants, which were hugging you in all the right places.

“It’s kind of quiet in here,” you said, looking around the bar. There were a lot of lonely men scattered about, rambling on about who knows what. You saw the occasional woman lingering , trying to see if she could get someone to buy her drinks.

You then spotted a jukebox. “Oh! I didn’t know those still existed!” You immediately stood up - a little unsteady- and pulled a quarter out of your pocket.

As you made your way over to the machine, Dean couldn’t help but take the opportunity to look at your figure. Yep, those jeans do the girl justice, and he mentally thanked Levi Strauss for creating such a masterpiece.

You put the quarter in, and flipped through the albums. After a few moments, Dean hears Ted Nugent’s Stranglehold start to play. You turned around and headed back to Dean, with a smile on your face. You took a swig of your screwdriver, and pulled Dean to his feet.

“Here I come again now, baby, like a dog in heat,” You sang to him, and slipped your fingers in between his to lead him out to an open space to dance.

He trudged along, trying to object, but you put a hand over his mouth. “Uh-uh, I want to see what you got.” You smiled, and whispered in his ear, “I’m not good at dancing, either.”

Your hot breath on his ear made his hair stand on end, and he swallowed hard before smiling at you. You put the hand he was holding in the air, for Dean to allow you to spin around. He got a good look at the view before you pulled in close to him again.

“You ran the night that you left me, you put me in my place,” You started singing to Dean again. “Got you in a stranglehold, baby, you gotta crush your fate,” Your face was close to Dean’s, your lips brushing against each other.
Dean could barely contain himself, and wanted to kiss kiss you right there, but his phone started buzzing. He looked at it and saw that it was Sam, and sighed.

“I’ve got to take this, (Y/n). I’ll be right back okay?” He looked at you. You giggled and started dancing by yourself. He knew immediately you were pretty drunk.

He stepped outside and answered the call. “This better be good, Sammy.”

“I know not to bother you on Valentine’s day, Dean, but this is important. Where are you?”

You had picked up somewhat of an audience when Dean got back into the bar. He ignored all the men’s hoots and hollers and quickly walked over to you and gently grabbed your arm. “Hey (Y/n), we have to leave now.”

“But why, Dean? The party’s just getting started!” You fell into Dean’s chest and started laughing.

“I know. I’m sorry, but we have to go,” Dean looked down at you and brushed some of your hair out of your face.

“Hey buddy! If the gal doesn’t want to leave, she doesn’t have to.” One of the guys approached Dean offensively.

“I’m not here to fight, man. You can see she’s drunk, I need to get her home.” Dean put his hand up to ward the man away. You looked up at Dean and laughed.

“I’m not drunk, Dean! I’m fine!” You hiccupped. Dean slid his arm around your waist and started to guide you toward the door, but two more guys circled in on you both, blocking the way.

“You’re not going anywhere, Dean Winchester.” One man said. His eyes flashed to black.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said. He pulled you in closer. He remembered that his gun was out in the car. Some use that was now. He knew he should have brought it in with him. “What do you Hellrats want?” He scoffed at the men.

“Hehe! Hellrats! That’s a good one, Dean.” You looked at the men, and saw their eyes. You gasped and hugged in closer to Dean. “Who are they?”

“Scumbags, that’s all.” Dean said sternly, keeping his eyes on the men.

“Aw c’mon Dean! You mean you haven’t told her who you really are?” The other man said. Dean braced himself, knowing there was about to be a fight. It was going to be the only way he can get you out safely.

“What are they talking about, Dean? How do they know you?” You said, looking back at the strange men.

“I’ll explain, but now’s not the time, (Y/n).” Dean quickly pushed you to stand behind him, and he dashed toward one of the men, punching him in the face and knocking him down. The other guy jumped on his back, strangling him. “Run, (Y/n)!” He strained, “Get to the car!”

You did as you were told, and when you got to the car you were relieved that it was unlocked. Dean did have a good reason for that, after all. You sat down and slumped into the seat, trying to make sense through your drunken state what was happening in there. Those men knew who Dean was, but what had you baffled was the way their eyes looked. They were black. Evil.

You rummaged through the seats of the car. Surely Dean would have some sort of weapon if he knew people like this. To your relief, you find a gun with a white grip. After checking to see if it was loaded, you got out of the Impala and ran back to the bar.

When you stumbled in, gun at the ready, you saw that everyone in the bar had black eyes. Dean was surrounded by these people, trying to fight them off as they kept going after him. His face was covered in blood, and you could see he was starting to get weak.

Before you could think, you fired off the first round, which barely hit the back of a guy who had just lunged toward Dean. The blow made the man vanish, but he reappeared in another part of the room.

“Oh shit, that is not normal,” you said. The shot alerted the others, and they started in on you, as well.

“Dammit, I told you to stay in the car!” Dean hollered over his attacker’s shoulder.

“Doesn’t look like you have this under control, Dean!” You called back, dodging the man who was headed toward you. You took the butt of the gun and whacked him on the head with it, which knocked him down and gave you a few moments to stagger toward Dean.

“We’re outnumbered, Dean, let’s make a run for it!” You grabbed Dean’s jacket and tugged on it as you struggled to get to the door. Dean elbowed another attacker in the neck and grabbed your hand to run.

Someone came out from the side of you and tackled you to the floor, straddling you with his hands around your neck. “Get off me, you bastard!” You started coughing from lack of oxygen.

“Oh, but I do have a father, sweetie. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.” The demon hissed and made his grip tighter around your neck. You used all the strength you had to aim the gun toward the attacker’s face, but your vision was starting to get spotty and your arm fell limp to the floor.

Through your haze you could see Dean screaming your name, and grabbing the gun from your hand. He shoved it into the back of the guy’s head and pulled the trigger, making him disappear.

Dean scooped you up in his arms and stumbled out to the car. He fumbled to get the door open and set you down in the seat, where your head flopped back into the seat. Dean hurried over to his side of the car, and started it up, skidding out of the parking lot and as far away from Maggie May’s as he could.

“I never should have taken you there,” Dean said as he carried you into his motel room. Sam was sitting at the table when you guys came in, and he stood up abruptly.

“You didn’t get out in time?” Sam asked, surprised. He watched as Dean layed you down, and rush to get something cold for your head. “What’s gotten into you, Dean? This isn’t like you at all. You’re usually in a motel room by now.”

“Shut up, Sam, and help me with her!” Dean said through the blood in his mouth. He dabbed the cold rag on your head, his own blood dripping onto your jacket. Sam came over with clean rags and handed them to Dean, then took over trying to wake you up. Dean started to clean himself up, wincing when he touched a sensitive spot.
“What’s her name?” Sam asked, looking at the semi-conscious girl.

“Her name is (Y/n),” Dean said gruffly, spitting more blood out into one of the rags.  “I met her at a restaurant tonight.”

“What were you doing at Maggie May’s, then?” Sam wiped your cheeks with the rag, and this seemed to stir you awake. You opened your eyes and jumped a little at the sight of Sam’s face. Before you could throw a punch, Sam intervened.

“Hey, hey (Y/n)! It’s okay. You’re safe now!” Sam caught the fist you threw despite his words. He looked at Dean. “She’s definitely got a bite.” He chuckled.

Dean rushed over to you and hovered over your face. “You alright, there, (Y/n)?”

You blinked a few times to focus your vision, and saw that Dean wasn’t a dream. “I’m fine, but I’d be better if I wasn’t being smothered.”

Dean laughed with relief and backed away slightly so you could sit up. You took in the surroundings - the motel room; Dean, who was cleaned up now, and the guy who had made you wake up. “So who are you?” Youasked, looking at Sam.

“This is Sam, my brother.” Dean answered.

“Hi, Sam. Nice to meet you. I wish it was under better circumstances.” You rubbed your throat, then remembered the brawl back at the bar. “Dean, who were those people?”

Sam looked at Dean cautiously, but Dean shrugged off his warning. “There’s something that you must know about me, (Y/n). Well, about me and Sam.” Sam coughed another warning, and Dean also ignored that. “That business I mentioned to you earlier tonight? It’s been in the family for generations. We’re hunters.”

“Hunters? What exactly do you hunt?” You looked at both Dean and Sam this time. Sam still had a worried look on his face.

“All kinds of things, including those people back there,” Dean said, then added carefully. “They were demons.”

“Well, that explains why they just poofed out like that when I shot them,” You rubbed your temples. You had a massive headache from the alcohol. “Demons, huh?”  

“And it’s not just demons, we hunt other things too.” Sam added.
“Anywhere from ghosts, to werewolves, to vampires. Our more common kill lately has been demons though.” Sam looked you over. “You’re taking this better than I expected.”

“You’re telling me,” Dean chuckled and shook his head in amazement.

“Eh, I kind of figured that stuff existed at some point or another. Where else would they get the lore? I didn’t think it existed in our time, though.” You hiccupped. “I sobered up pretty fast, didn’t I Dean?” You laughed.

“Yeah, and we were just starting to have fun, eh (Y/n)?” Dean winked, then nudged his brother. “Then this bitch had to call me and interrupt the party.”

“Hey, jerk, I was just watching your back for you!” Sam laughed.

You giggled at the sight of the two of them. You held your gaze on Dean a little while longer. His face was all cut and bruised up, but he was still the sexiest man you’ve known so far.