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Service Dog Things that are ShitToTrain™

There are a lot of things that are obviously difficult to train, like learning to ignore distractions like other dogs, screaming kids, and food, but there are a few things that are surprisingly ShitToTrain™ your service dog. 

Putting a Read More because this got long. 

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Werewolf Inc

Scott x Young!Reader

Requested by @delirium-yelchin-joseph


“McCall door three.” The buzz came over the announcement speaker.

“Good luck Mr Wolf.” Lydia teased as she was called up.

Scott flinched on his way over to his door as she let out a scream, rattling her door as she stepped out, high-fiving Malia as she waited for her next door.

“All right, you’ve got this… just make a little kid have a nightmare, that’s all.” Scott mumbled to himself.

He pushed open the door and stepped into the small bedroom. When he reached the foot of the tiny bed he stopped, it was empty, despite the fact that he’d been called into the room.

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Jeff Hardy; Bar Games

A/N: This took SO LONG and I’m super sorry! I just recently got adopted by a baby squirrel and I’ve been taking care of him, making sure he’s okay. I named him Buckwheat! He’s adorbs. This was requested by @ittybittywriter. Also, can anyone tell me how to do the “read more” html on the app for the phone? I don’t own a laptop/computer

A/N Part 2, Heart Complications update: I’m working on Part 3 as we speak and BE WARNED, IT’S GOING TO GET VERY DARK. There’s going to be a few jealous men, some stalking, slight abuse, harassment. It’s going to get dark, so I figured I’d warn you first off before I post it.

TAGS: @neeadinghugs @deseraysmiththings @panic-angel3314 @ambrosegirlforever @queen-twerks-a-lot

Word Count: 2,585

Style: Reader x Jeff Hardy

Triggers: Alcohol?

Type: Smutty, Fluffy.

_________

You’ve been friends for years, but what happens when Jeff talks you into a night at the bar?

~~~~~~~~~~

Originally posted by youtappedout

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun to go out. You know, something you don’t know how to do?”

Jeff was right. You didn’t know how to go out. Hell, you barely knew how to get out of your pajama pants into jeans half the time. You were always a shy person, even after four years of being best friends with the youngest Hardy brother. You two had met at a house show where he managed to botch a move, throwing himself over the barricade into your lap. The accident started a beautiful friendship.

You look down at your half assed attire. Black skinny jeans and a normal purple cotton shirt. You roll your eyes and sigh.

Fine, you win. I’ll have to.. dig something nice looking out of my bag”.

You can hear Jeffs smile pulling from ear to ear.

“I’ll meet you at the club after the show. I’ll text you which one we decide one. See you there?”

“Well obviously, you already talked me into going out. See ya later”. You hang up with him, turning around to face the big balcony window.

You grab your duffle and rush over to the edge of the hotel bed. You begin shuffling through your duffle bags, hoping to find a miracle you threw into you bag when your packed it, half asleep, before you took this trip with him.

Throughout the years, Jeff always tried to get out into the scene, getting you out of your comfort zone of staying in your hotel room. It never worked, no matter how many times he begged you to go throw beers back. Finally, you feel the familiar, soft touch of silk. Your miracle in a duffle bag. The dress you bought before the tour. It has a low plunging neckline with a strap halter and a slit from on the right hip from the waist to the middle thigh where the dress stops. It’s a beautiful light green, which contrasts perfectly against your skin. You lay it on the bed and check the time on your phone. 9:49.

Good you think. Enough time to get ready. You waltz over to the desk, which has a giant vanity mirror on it. Grabbing the makeup bag you managed to find before leaving home, you begin putting on a little mascara and foundation, to make yourself look like you’re not tired. Your phone buzzes.

Jeff: Hey, we’re going to The Underground. Meet us there around 10:30?

You put your bottle of foundation down, picking up the phone to start typing.

You: Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll maps it to find it.

Your phone buzzes a minute later.

Jeff: ♡

The phone reads 10:14. You didn’t realize how long you took on your appearance for something you’re not even going to enjoy. You also zoned out the fact that you put on eyeshadow. You get up and walk to the bed, sliding the pajama pants off your body to the floor. You pull your shirt up off your torso and glide yourself into this silky, beautiful dress.

Next is the worst part. High heels. You grimace at the black spiked heels, knowing you’re not the best walking around in them.

“Fake it ‘til you make it, I guess”, you mumble as you pull the heels over your delicately soft feet. You spray a bit of perfume on and off you go out into the dark streets of Chicago. Your hands clenched into your smartphone, following maps down blocks of city sidewalks. A text pops up on your phone.

Jeff: Where are you? You’re late! :P

You smile softly at the semi-worried, semi-joking text as you hit the reply button.

You: Do you know how long it takes for me to look good?

You take a left, finding a brightly lit street of neon signs and loud human activity.

Jeff: Not very long. Getting the balls to come out? Probably about 3 ½ hours of crying and telling yourself you can “do this”. :D

You walk down the street, multiple men and women turn their heads to look at you as you strut passed them.

You: Eat me, Jeff.

Jeff: ;)

Ahhh, The Underground. Finally finding the building as you quickly glance up to read the signs. You turn your phones screen off and push the door open to the night club. Instantly looking for your little party of Jeff and the gang. Multiple heads turn as your legs stride with your walk, checking you out from every angle.

Deans sitting with Jeff, along the likes of Alexa, Renee Young, and Seth. They’re around a little round table, pounding back shots of mid shelf tequila. The burn of the smooth alcohol twists everyones faces into indistinguishable looks of approval. Seths head comes back down, his eyes landing on you. Almost instantly he starts elbowing Jeff. Finally, he looks your way. He takes his swallow of alcohol in surprise before his mouth lays open, the sight of you sending his heart racing. He sways over to you, his tight blue jeans hugging his hips almost too perfectly.

“We started without ya”, ha places his hands on your bare shoulder, “buuutttt, we saved your shots”, his smile beams through the dark lighting of the venue, “you’re three behind”.

He takes your hand and walks with you over to the table, fully noticing that Seth can’t even say a word to you, let alone look at you.

Jeff chuckles, “Cat got your tongue?”

Seth shakes his head, “nah, (Y/N) does”. Bayley smacks him in the arm before laughing.

You take your first shot and instantly wince. Tequila. You wish someone would have told you, so you could have licked some salt. The burn trails down your throat. Before you know it, you’re six shots in, thirty minutes past midnight, laughing at Dean and Renee attempt drunken karaoke. Jeff struts over with another round of shots. As he reaches the table, he eyes you up and down before a light pink spreads across his face. He hands you another shot.

“What was that look for”, you ask, “impure thoughts?”

A grin cracks across his face, “very impure”. He places salt in between his thumb and forefinger. You shake your head and dust it off. “I have a better idea”.

You take the salt from his hand and smile your prettiest “almost beyond drunk” smile, then lick your thumb. You rub the wet thumb on your collar bone and pour salt on it as Jeff raises an eyebrow. You bat your eyelashes, “body shot”? He grins, almost evilly, before pressing his lips to your collar bone, sliding his wet tongue across it, before taking his shot and biting into a lime.

He brings his head to your ear, “your turn”. Jeff empties off the table before jumping onto it to sit, leaning back against the wall. You look him from head to toe, then back up, as he drunkenly pulls his white shirt tshirt up to his rib cage. He then mimics you, licking his finger, rubbing it right above his belt on his hip. He pours a little bit of salt, then hands you a lime and a shot. “Go ahead, princess.”

You smirk, cocking an eyebrow at him before slowly bending your head down to his belt. You slip finger underneath the hem of his pants and tug down slightly, before licking your tongue against his hip slow, as he bites his lip watching. Your head comes back up, to take the shot of tequila. That’s when he grabs your hands and leads you out to the dance floor as a bassy, dirty, EDM song comes on.

Before you can even blink, he’s got his arms wrapped around your hips under the darkened, strobe lit, and black light paint room, as you both begin to grind on each other. Your hips touch as he slides his hand down to the cut of your dress. When did this happen? Why is my heart going a million miles a minute? Your soaked hair pulls against your skin as he again brings his hands up from your hips to your waist, watching your lower body move against his. He spins you around, so your back is placed against his chest as you both continue to sway against each other, getting completely lost in one another’s bodies. He holds your hips so they stay connected to his, the bubble of your ass firmly pressed into the crotch of his jeans, which continue to get more strained every second.

He grabs your arm and whispers “I can’t handle it anymore”. You mouth back, “handle what?”

Bad question.

Not even ten minutes later, Jeff pushes you against your hotel room door, your mouths wrestling against each other for dominance as he scrambles to find the door key. You pull on his cotton tshirt, flicking your tongue against his lips as he nearly rips the key card from the pocket of his pants, forcefully shoving it in the slide, almost breaking the door off the hinges as he swings it open, pushing you both into the room.

He pulls his shirt off without any effort, dropping it to the floor before fumbling drunkenly with his belt. You grab his hands and pull them away, before placing your own hand on his green studded belt, pulling him towards the bed. You strip yourself of the dress with your empty hand, letting it fall to the floor as you lead him to the edge of the bed, pushing him down slowly as he sits on the edge.

You climb up behind him on the bed, pressing your breasts against his back, taking your hands and rubbing them down his shoulders, to his chest, and back up before reaching up and taking his hair of the bun it’s in, allowing his hair to fall against his shoulders. He stays quiet, quickly glancing over at you as you climb back down and place yourself on your knees in front of him. You run your hands from his knees to his belt buckle, his bulge fully straining against his pants, the imprint taking you by surprise. That’s gonna be more than a mouthful.

You undo the buckle, then work on the button and zipper, as he pushes up to allow you room to tug his pants down from his waist and off his body. You look back up at him as he begins to palm himself, the pressure from your tease barely controllable. You watch him for a couple seconds, noticing the wetness forming between your legs. You take the band of his briefs and slowly pull them down, exposing the thick, hard cock in front of your eyes.

As he helps you kick them off, you lap your tongue against the tip. Jeff lays his head back as he leans himself on his elbows. You watch him bite his lip as you fully surround the head of his cock inside your mouth, again licking your tongue around it. You hear a soft moan slip from between his lips. You slide your head father down his shaft as your face comes in contact with his lower body, fully engulfing him in your hot, wet mouth. You pull back and begin to do it again as you feel him twitch inside you. He pulls your hair slowly until he’s out of you, standing you up.

“As great as that felt, that’s not how I’m getting off when I’m with you”.

He stands up and pulls your panties down to the floor, his fingers leaving trails of fire as they run back up your body, before slowly laying you down against the bed, your legs still off of the mattress. His evil grin reappears, as he takes your legs in his hands, pushing them to your sides as he takes in the view of your body. It’s almost mesmerizing to him. He aligns the tip of his still hardened cock to your slick, hot entrance, before pushing the tip inside of you. He gives you no time to adjust as he buries himself inside you directly after. The high pitched, shaky moan you let out, instantly receives a growl from him. He begins to slowly pull out a little, before snapping back in hard, keeping your legs pinned to the bed. Your fingers grip the blanket.

He pulls out again, snapping back in harder, your moan getting louder. That’s when he begins thrusting at a bruisingly fast pace, feeling every inch of him fuck you into the mattress. The bed here’s every time he repeatedly buries his cock inside you, his own moans spilling out. His eyes lock with yours as you’re moaning out swear words, you turn your head to the side, clinching your eyes shut as pleasure completely starts taking over your body.

He scratches your thighs hard, “fuck”, he moans out, breathily. Your pussy begins to clinch around him, keeping yourself from exploding, Jeff puts a hand on the bed to keep himself from collapsing from it, continuing the bruising pace on you. The sweat soaks his hair, as he grinds his cock in you, your expletives getting louder against the blanket as your orgasm begins to take control of you. He knows what’s coming, and it’s you.

His devil grin forms against his lips as his thumb presses against your clit, tempting you to explode.

“You want to so bad, don’t you”, his words like fire from a dragons mouth, only pushing you closer, “my little (Y/N) wants to come, huh”?

Your head nods fast, biting your lip.

“Just how long have you wanted me to do this to you?”

Your head turns to him as your lust filled eyes sends him directly over the edge into his own orgasm.

Mmmmfuck, (Y/N)”, he slowly rubs your clit in circles, allowing the coil to burst inside you, pulsing against his cock, before he agonizingly slowly pulls himself out of you, catching his breath. With the little bit of energy he has left, he picks you up bridal style and lays you under the blankets, wrapping your sweat soaked body against his own, placing fiery hot kisses along your shoulder and neck before you both drift off to sleep.

The next morning you wake up, and Jeff is already awake. He’s kept you close to him as you slept, watching your chest rise and fall as you breathe.

“We need to talk”, he mumbles.

Your heart starts racing with anxiety. Those four words only almost always means bad things are coming.

“Mmh, okay, what’s up”?, you rub your eyes, taking a moment.

“What happened last night…”, he pauses, your blood runs cold, “…I want that to keep happening”.

“…Jeff what?”

“I want that, between us, to keep happening”.

You look up at him, “can I ask a reason why”? His face turns red as he looks away from you. “(Y/N), I love you.”

The breath from your lungs escapes your mouth as you stare up at this messy haired, beautiful man. He looks away again, “I just know last night you were very drunk and I know you’d never have feelings for someone li-“

You instantly cut him off by placing your lips against his.

“Jeff, I love you too. I have since I met you”. Jeffs beautiful green eyes light up like neon signs, gripping you tight in his arms.

“You’re my forever, (Y/N)”.

Encounter

Rating: Teen and Up

Pairing: Reaper/Reader

As infamous as he is, even the Reaper is still just a man.

AO3 / Other Fanworks

You have missed the bus. Of course. It is not often you are called upon to visit the offices where you technically work; as their best programmer you’ve been given permission to work from home. The next bus doesn’t get here for another hour - God only knows why - which is how long it will take you to walk, if you hurry.

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one time I was in Chile and I was trying to purchase a power converter because all my electronics are american

so I went to this shady electronics shop on a corner and it appeared to be managed and organized entirely by an 11-year-old girl with bows in her hair. I asked about adapters, figuring she’d get her dad or boss to help, but no, she dove right in and started asking me about the voltage I needed and a heckton of other specs I didn’t even know existed until finally she nodded sagely, climbed up a stepstool to reach a mid-height shelf, and gently placed a dusty box on the counter in front of me. “it’s a little old,” she said, “but I think you’ll find this to be your best bet.”

i was kind of amazed at this precocious kid and asked what her name was.

“Isabella,” she replied, with a smug smile, “but most people call me Genius.”

i almost dropped the converter as i stumbled out of the store because never in my life have i wanted more to adopt a child

Love is Fiction

So this is over a month and a half belated, but Happy Belated Birthday to @snow-into-ash! It’s become a part of my daily schedule to talk to you, friend and I couldn’t be happier. 

Also including this in Day Seven of CS AU WEEK. Writer!Emma and Librarian!Killian(Soft M toward the end and roughly 9700 words)


“Excuse me, where can I find books written by Chuck Palahniuk?” Emma looks up from her laptop screen to see the two new main characters in her story. If she were writing in script format there’d be some stage notes like ‘Enters the beautiful heroine, long dark locks and a thin physic. Evidently beautiful, but just doesn’t know it yet.’ There’d be a spotlight on her, a bright white light casting a shadow behind her that vaguely resembles angel wings or a halo. Something that says ‘this girl is it.’

And off to the left, the gorgeous, brooding librarian who hates his job as a shelver. He would be described as ‘tall, dark and handsome’ despite being close to the same height as the heroine who is also brunette. His spotlight would have some cool gel to it, creating the ambiance that he’s so blue and melancholy. Once the two meet in center stage, the whole scene illuminates, a row of library shelves behind them.

“We all die. The goal isn’t to live forever; the goal is to create something that will.” The hero is British. Big plus, these accents are doing insane things to YA sales, as if the kids could actually hear them.

“What?” The heroine misses the obvious quote. Emma rethinks putting that in her notes. She doesn’t particularly want another ditzy novel where the male protagonist is so smart and the female is just hot. Sure, she wants it to sell, but she wants to also inspire a nation. A book that will, to quote the male protagonist(and Chuck Palahniuk by extension), ‘Live forever.’

“It was a…ah, it’s all fiction and organized by Author’s last name, so row 8 should be PAA-PAW. I would say mid row, the third shelf, but I may be off a book or two.”

“Oh, you were quoting him. Great, I’m gonna use that in my report.” Annnnnd the heroine is still in high school. Time to count her out.

Emma goes back to the story at hand. She’s in the middle of writing some post-apocalyptic thriller about a group of gifted kids, similar to the x-men only everyone is human-passing, who divide up what’s left of a nation and decide to rule. It came to her after a three-day cleanse her roommate forced her to go on. You think up the craziest shit when you’re starving.

“Oh, is this book taken?” an older guy, early thirties, takes a seat instead of the book. “I love this author, have you read Catcher in the Rye?” There’s a copy of ‘Nine Stories by J.D Salinger’ on the table but she’s not reading it.

“Did I read Catcher in the Rye?” Emma gets hit on from time to time by older men. They prowl the library for women reading books they can comment on. She’s not one of those women. She doesn’t come to the library to read, she comes to write, and more importantly, to people watch.

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Larsen B Ice Shelf BreakupOver a 35-day period in early 2002, Antarctica’s Larsen B ice shelf lost a total of about 1,255 square miles, one of the largest shelf retreats ever recorded. This image, captured by NASA’s MODIS satellite sensor on February 23, shows the shelf mid-disintegration, spewing a cloud of icebergs adrift in the Weddell Sea.

Devil in the Drink

For ease of access please find below links to all my previous stories;
Sam and Dean Series Lists     Stand Alone and Requests     Little Winchester
High School Sweethearts       Dear Diary             Reader Title Challenge    

Heart Song
Enjoy my lovelies.
Regards,
Bec
Xxx
                                                   Request
                                           
Devil in the drink

Request info: Anonymous said to 5minutefanfiction:

Can I request a Crowley x reader maybe something really cute. The reader meets him at a bar because she’s a bartender/hunter but she’s super sarcastic and cute. Idk

Authors Note: Ok so I have had this for ages sitting on my computer, driving me insane. I knew what I wanted to do but have struggled with sarcasm. Which is weird I am quiet sarcastic and have a rather smart mouth (sassy) but for some reason it just wasn’t happening. It still didn’t but I decided to do something anyway. When my flow comes back I’ll try and remember to do another one.

WORD COUNT: 1700

    ‘What can I get you?’ I asked the man in front of me, he looked familiar but I’ll be damned if I could figure out where I had seen him.
    ‘Scotch on the rocks.’
    As soon as he opened his mouth I knew who it was, there was no mistaking it. While I had never met him personally, I had heard along the grapevine. Good old Hunter gossip. I poured him his drink, using the cheapest, nastiest scotch I had.
    ‘This…this is what you are giving me?’
    ‘I figured where your from you are not used to a life of luxury, I mean it’s meant to be pretty crappy down there right? I can give you a little something extra maybe mid shelf if you want…?’
     ‘This is possibly the worst pub I have been to.’
     ‘That may be but you haven’t see anything yet, Fergus or is it Crowley?’ I smirked.
      I watched as he froze his drink to his mouth.
     ‘Yup, that’s what I thought. Stay put kind Sir, I will get back to you in a minute.’
     I watched amused as he went to get up.
     ‘What the bloody hell is…’
     ‘My insurance policy sweetcheeks. You don’t think I’d let your kind just visit and run do you?’
     ‘Well, I was hoping,’ the King of hell gave me a look.
     ‘Cute, but no. I got tired of having to replace the waitress’s. I mean seriously if your people stopped making deals or taking the rejection seriously I wouldn’t have had too. Did you know I even had to make a new rule, my girls can’t say Bite Me, when one for your friends hit’s on them,’ I rolled my eyes.
      ‘So you’re a hunter, who runs a bar for demons and monsters.’
      ‘No, I am the unfortunate soul who runs a bar similar to a trailer park, all I seem to attract is trash.’
      I watched as Crowley smirked at me. ‘Well Love, what will you do if I gave away your secret?’
      I lent in close, ‘I’d show you what I real hunter is made of. I hope you have a friend prepared to step up and cover your throne.’
      I continued to serve the other patrons, while I figured out what to do with Crowley. I had a few options, none for which I was keen on. Do you kill the douche in black or let him live. It is better the devil you know, and to be honest as much as I wanted him dead, I couldn’t fault the guy. For a demon anyway. In all the deals I have heard him make, he’s kept them true to his word. I’ve also heard he punishes any demon who breaks his rules. So for a bad guy was he actually good?
     The bar died down, and I continued to serve my new special little friend, I rang the bell early and eventually kicked everyone out.
      I walked over and sat back against the bench opposite Crowley.
     ‘So Y/N, to what do I owe this pleasure?’ he asked.
     ‘Really? You need to ask?’
     ‘Yes.’
     ‘I did buy you a drink and chain you up of sorts,’ I smirked.
      ‘Sex? With a hunter?’
       I rolled my eyes, ‘Yes, Crowley I want you take me hard and fast on the bar,’ I said dryly.
       I watched as he shrugged and started removing his jacket. I raised an eyebrow, and tried not to laugh.
      ‘It’s ok I wouldn’t want you breaking a hip, old age and all.’
      ‘I can still move it like the best of them, thank you very much.’
      ‘I’ll be you have no issues screwing people, but today that won’t be me.’
      Crowley gave me a funny look, I couldn’t tell if he was relieved or disappointed. The last few hours had been a bit weird. We had chatted in between everything and for a man he didn’t seem half bad, well even for a demon he didn’t seem half bad.
      ‘So why am I here? If not to show you a hell of a time.’
      ‘See there’s the issue, I was hoping you’d rock my world and show me heaven at my peak.’
      ‘Heaven’s overrated, too many rules and feelings,’ Crowley said shuddering at the last word.
      ‘God forbid you of all people should have those.’
      ‘What do you want Y/N?’
      ‘You came to me Mr Crowley, and stupidly sat in that chair. I now need to decide what to do about it. I could kill you, or let you go. But each has it’s downfalls.’
      ‘Do tell?’
      ‘We could end up with a bigger Dick to run hell, or if I be nice and let you go you could come back and try and kill me. And I’m not in the mood for that. It might be bad for business.’
       ‘I have no plans on killing you.’
      ‘I didn’t say kill, I said try.’
       I watched as amusement crossed his face, ‘I won’t try either.’
      We sat watching each other for a while,
      ‘Good night Mr Crowley,’ I said after a while as I went to turn off the lights.
      ‘Good night? What the bloody hell does that mean.’
      ‘It’s a well wishing for departure that one says when they leave, usually at…’
      ‘I know what it means, but are you planning on leaving me here, stuck on this chair.’
       I looked at him for a moment. ‘Yes,’ I said simply.
      ‘I’m the bloody King of Hell you can’t leave me here.’
      ‘Aw sweetie right now you’re an old drunk, stuck on a chair and to be completely honest. I like they idea of a regular.’ I grabbed him a bottle of whiskey and went to leave. ‘It’s a bit like having a pet really, except all I have to do is feed you whiskey.’
       ‘When I get out of this..’
       ‘If, if you get out of this…’
       ‘When… I’ll come for you,’ he snarled.
       ‘Oh I do like that song. And I have no doubt I can make you do that.’
       ‘Promises.’
       ‘Good night your majesty.

Crowley’s Perspective

     I watched as Y/N left, I wasn’t sure what to do. She captivated me, not like any human or demon I had met. There was no fear, she spoke her mind, she entertained me. Her suggestion of sex threw me. I wasn’t prepared for it, I wasn’t happy when I realised she was being sarcastic. I was actually hoping she was serious. I finished the bottle and looked around, the bar was small, quiet and to be honest I liked it. I couldn’t see any sigils or devils traps, I had no idea how the bloody hell she was keeping me here.
    I threw the empty bottle watching as it smashed against the wall. I watched amused as Y/N ran out in a tank top, her underwear and a shot gun.
    ‘I prefer this look to the bartender,’ I remarked eyeing her off.
    ‘Want me to show you what I can do with a gun?’ she smirked.
    ‘Once you’ve put your toy away.’
    ‘If you’re in the closest how can I show you?’ she asked, her face full of innocence.
     I watched as she lent the gun against a cupboard and rubbed her face. I watched cautiously as she moved around the bar and stood next to me. I felt feelings I never knew existed stirring. She pulled a knife and scratched under the chair.
      ‘Go home Crowley, your minions will be missing you.’
      ‘So I’m not some kind of pet or sex slave?’
      ‘I doubt you have the stamina to keep up with me old man,’ she winked over her shoulder.
       I watched as she took her gun and walked back into her home.

Readers Perspective
      I came out the next morning to clean up and found my bar was already clean and tidy, the bottle Crowley threw last night gone. I opened the till and found it full. I couldn’t help but smile, the devil tips well.
      ‘For a devil you tip well and are polite. Is that some sort of Stockholm syndrome?’ I called. I knew he was listening, I don’t know how I knew I just knew.
       I opened up later that afternoon, I was surprised when I turned around to see Crowley sitting in his seat.
      ‘No I just appreciate good service.’
      ‘Well Crowley, you are in the wrong bar.’
      ‘No right bar, right company.’
      ‘Oh dear God your majesty did you have feelings? Actual real ones? Ones that made you enjoy more than the crappy whiskey?’
       He never answered me, he just gave me a smile. I shook my head and went to serve the other patrons, unsure how I was going to explain the King of Hell to any other hunters that came through those doors.
        I watched as a couple of guys got into a fight and started smashing up my bar.
       ‘I can deal with it if you want?’ Crowley offered.
       ‘Then I’d need to kill you and that would be a shame,’ I grinned as I jumped the bar. I kicked the drunks out and cleaned up the mess before heading back to the bar.
       ‘Why would that be a shame?’
        ‘Because sometimes it’s better the devil you know.’
        ‘Well that’s true I’ve met the other one, he’s a bit crazy.’
        ‘You say that as you voluntarily sit at a bar run by a hunter.’
        ‘Well, sometimes it’s better the hunter you know.’
        I laughed, fair point. Most would have killed him by now.
        ‘That and I am still waiting to prove I am not as old as you think and to try and see what these feelings are.’
       ‘It’s called drunk darling.’
       ‘I was thinking it was lust.’
       I bit my lip and blushed a deep red, before turning away. If he wasn’t the king of hell or a demon I would have jumped him yesterday. I went to serve another customer and looked back over at Crowley. He was watching intently. It was going to be an interesting night.

eveycomesundone  asked:

Evey had gotten herself into a fix as she reached up to put away the cigarettes in the back of the pub. Her garter belt had come undone and she was in no position to fix the fallen stocking. "Bloody hell..."

(you adorable thing)

Loki had just arrived and was told that his manager was in the back, waiting for him. Thinking nothing of it, he strode into the dim interior to find the woman reaching with every inch she had towards a mid level shelf, while at the same time shaking her leg where a stocking had fallen, pooling around the ankle.

With mischief sparking in his eyes, Loki came up beside her and leaned against the shelves. “Can I help you with something?”