You mean Dean can send owls first? :0

[wayward-son124.livejournal.com]

(Similarly backdated to pre-mass marriage annulments! Just after this.)



Rachel,

Being FORCED to write

how's Peter

Heard you died?

Uh. Long time no speak?

Kinda wanted to meet up. Less you hate me. Whatever. \o/


-Dean.

P.S. can I have my machete back

Comments

[wayward-son124.livejournal.com]

'Scary smooth', at least, was a very good way of describing this, yes, and, damn, there was definitely a flash of something new under everything in Dean's eyes. Not fear, not yet, of course, just... suspicion. She was acting weird - that had to be the drugs, and damn, what did she take? GHB? That didn't slow your world down, did it?

Right. It was just him being paranoid again. That same thing that had him muttering in corners and acting fucked up beyond all recognition. "Uhh, drink," he offered back, flashing a grin and crossing to the fridge, just by Rachel's perch on the counter. "Drink drink or, like... I got water, or..." He trailed off a little, as his eyes shamelessly surveyed the span of legs and back that dress was revealing. Damn, that thing looked good on her.

[racheltherunner.livejournal.com]

"Mmm," I considered with a tilt of my head, a flash of teeth. "I want something with a little bite to it." He was so close, and under his obvious scrutiny I arched back just a little, muscles tensing and flexing in interesting ways under the dress. My hand reached out to lightly trail up and down his arm, fingernail scratching at the skin.

It was exhilarating - the big bad demon hunter didn't even know he was flirting with a monster. There was no fear there. Silly boy. Didn't he know that I could huff and puff and rip out his neck while he begged me to do it again?

"It's been a long time, Dean," I murmured, leaning over so I was sprawled out on the counter, a dish served up with smooth, pale skin and black leather. My head propped on my elbow, I hooked a finger into one of his belt loops and tugged suggestively. "I've been lonely." My lower lip went out into a predatory pout and my eyes gleamed. He had no idea.

[wayward-son124.livejournal.com]

Hi, was she really that flexible? Had he not noticed before? Because, Damn, Rachel was a killer in the sack, but look at that. Curve of her spine, all arched out and pretty, nine miles of legs, and damn. She should have her own freaking spread in Maxim right now or something. This was awesome.

Um. Focus, Dean. Upstairs brain was definitely getting a little drunk at the wheel.

Dean shut the fridge, crossing slowly to Rachel, and damn the drinks, he'd found something way more interesting, all sprawled out on his counter. Eyes trailing down to the finger hooked into his belt loop, back up to Rachel, and one hand was definitely gliding out to ghost down the length of her arm, over her hips. God, it had been too long, yeah, way too long. "We should probably fix that," he managed in a murmur under his breath, eyes flashing to Rachel's own, with something entirely too suggestive.

[racheltherunner.livejournal.com]

Shivering under his touch, my head fell back slightly, lids hooding my eyes. "I don't know," I smiled, a wicked little flash of lips and teeth and hidden promise. "I think I might be mad at you. Left me all alone for far too long."

The finger on his belt loop turned into a hand tracing around his stomach. "I think you might need to be punished for that." My knuckles rubbed down the front of his jeans, my eyes watching his face for his reaction. "You've been very naughty, Dean. You'll have to make it up to me."

All the anger and frustration I felt towards Dean had be transformed in my vampire form to full on hunting. Instead of sullen avoidance and awkward meetings, I was going to punish him by making him beg for me. Somehow, my human side was telling me that this wasn't a healthier reaction. Luckily, I really didn't care.

No vampire pheromones, not yet. He was far too willing and I was lazing back, enjoying the attention. I hadn't felt desirable in far too long. Dean was lucky as hell I had caps on, otherwise he'd be shoved up against the counter and I'd be pulling deep. But since I knew I couldn't bite, my vampire instincts were claiming him in another way. He'd probably enjoy it just as much.

[wayward-son124.livejournal.com]

Oh, Jesus, didn't that sound all kinds of kinky and full of some kind of big promise. For what, exactly, Dean couldn't have said, but, uh... he definitely had a vague idea going on right now. Those treacherous fingers of her, slowly gliding up his stomach and up the line of his abs, but it was only when her knuckles started kneading at his jeans that, hi, Dean couldn't help the split second of buckle to his knees and the way one of his hands grabbed roughly at the counter and gripped, hard.

Had been a while, a very very long while.

"And, ah, for that?" Dean's eyes flashed to Rachel momentarily, his mouth slightly slack in something he didn't know what to say, somewhere between the jolt of blood to his downstairs brain and the fingers working across the front of his jeans. "I am so sorry. Very sorry. I mean it." Oh, god, that hand was going to drive him nuts, and Dean's own fingers, the free ones, were easily sliding past the length of the dress, tips tracing across the laces in the back, that arch of her spine. "However that needs to be made up, you know. ...Well."

[racheltherunner.livejournal.com]

Mmm, seemed Dean-boy wasn't so immovable after all. I could move him. I could make him whimper and beg and follow after me like a horny little puppy. One thing was for certain - he wouldn't let me walk out his door now. See, Rachel, this was your problem. You'd tried to go for feelings when everyone knew that men thought with their dicks.

There was a heady rush, eyes flashing again, lips curved up into a predator's smile. I cupped him roughly, fingers kneading him though the front of his jeans.

"Beg."

Then, in one smooth motion, I was away, faster than he could react. I was vamped out, now, fully, and every movement was liquid. Without looking back I sauntered over to his bed, hips swaying, the laced back of my dress plunging low enough to show off an interesting array of skin.

To my vampire instincts, if he followed that meant he wanted to play. Arranging myself on the bed, legs crossed almost primly, back arched slightly, hands splayed out on the cover, heel dangling slightly from one toe, I waited.

[wayward-son124.livejournal.com]

Humfguh?

It was hard, and bad choice of adjective for right now when, hi, her hand was right there and grabbing and what the, but, yes, being coherent when... well, again. Back to the hand thing. Dean's knees did that momentary buckling thing again, as he let out an odd, grunting sort of sound in his throat, grabbing at the counter and dear lord. Maybe 'been a while' was a bit of an understatement.

That smile might have had something to do with it too, yes.

But... beg? She was making... Oh, no. Dean let his eyes flicker after her to the bed, and... that was... weird. Her movements. They were... different. Like... fluid. It sounded weird, but he'd spent enough of his life around the baddies and the what have you that hid in the dark to... study what was around him. And Rachel was definitely acting strange. Thinking with the downstairs brain, it was always something Sam made fun of him for. Damn.

Not possessed. Was she... Hmm. Wasn't much that had that weird kind of grace like that. Almost cat-like. ...Vampires, maybe, but she... couldn't be... Dean arched a brow, crossing slowly to the bed and leaning onto his fists by the foot. "Beg," he repeated blankly, fixing her with a steely sort of glare and pausing for a few long seconds. Didn't look like a vampire, but none of them did until they let the fangs loose. He started crawling a little forward, eyes still locked onto Rachel's, on all fours and looming over the woman. "Why."

[racheltherunner.livejournal.com]

Why? The cookie was asking me why? Something flared in my eyes - annoyance, arrogance, hunger - and I leaned forward, one eyebrow arching. That thing I could never do normally, one thin line of red sliding up in vague anger, yet another sign of my lovely transformation.

"Because you should," I answered after a moment, pushing forward, closer to him, unafraid and powerful. He should beg. He'd put me through hell, the piece of shit human, and he should beg.

With a snarl and a movement made of fluid grace I couldn't even begin to touch normally, with a strength that was beyond my regular bounds, I flipped him over onto the bed so he was flat on his back, straddling him. Leaning over him, hair tumbling down around us, I raked my nails lightly down his chest, grinding my hips into his. "Beg," I ordered again. "Tell me how much you want this. Tell me how much you want me. You can only connect when it's fucking, when you can thrust into me and make me feel you, so tell me." Another sharp roll of my hips on him. "This is all I'm good for, isn't it?" My teeth flashed in a feral grin. "So why don't we make sure you enjoy it."