She'll Eat You Alive
Title: She'll Eat You Alive (Part One)
Series: The Overbite Saga
Characters: Dean, Darla
Rating: R
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1320
Summary:Sam is dead and Dean is not exactly coping, or at all.
A/N: Ok so I started this story before season 6 started airing, so there was no influence from that, and well you know it doesn't follow the shows storyline, so Sam is still hellbound at this point. This is a look at how and what events led Dean to becoming a vampire. Prequel to Mine.
She drummed her nails, freshly manicured, down against the worn surface of the bar. Small town, big city, it didn’t matter, where there was beer neanderthals were sure to roam. Slapping her hand down flat she drew her gaze back to the egomaniac, who had so ‘graciously’ decided to bestow his presence upon her. Her lip twitching, hand snapping up, she caught her pursuer’s tongue between her thumb and middle finger, “Stop talking.”
“Oh-hay” all he managed to get out around his tongue, her nails digging in slightly, as she caught sight of the man who had just walked through the door. Drinking in the chiselled jaw, those full lips tugged into a grin that was just this side of cocky, and those eyes, they held a sparkle, not betraying the cold that lay within, but they didn’t have to, not for her. She released the pretty boy without so much as a backwards glance, swivelling round in her seat, eyes never leaving the newcomer. She leaned back, arms flat against the bar, already knowing he would come to her.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he leaned down into her, his body warm, voice whiskey rough, he really was too good to be true.
“How about a dance?” her voice silken, laced with desire, but she didn’t give pause for an answer. Slipping down onto her feet, his proximity forced her up against him, her hands flat against his chest, and she let the left linger as she brushed past. Grasping his arm, her hand slipping into his, she guided him to what so barely passed as a dance floor. Pulling him in close behind her and wrapping his arms round her waist, so they could sway together, she rolled her hips from side to side, his moving with hers. Reaching back with one hand, she caressed his cheek, tilting his face down to hers, her head falling back against his chest, the ghost of a breath falling between their lips.
But she moved at the last second, resting her finger over his lips, that bottom lip parting slightly as she slowly drew her finger down. Stepping round him, her hand resting on his shoulder, breasts brushing against his back, she blew gently along his neck, and he quivered, the fine hair there standing on end, as she stood before him now. Their eyes met, locking in step, as if some external force made it so. She brought her hands flat against his chest once more, taking the time to feel every contour of that well defined muscle, as she brought them down, slipping round his waist, beneath his leather jacket. A smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, she leaned into him, cheek against cheek, “Outside, five minutes,” tugging his earlobe gently with her teeth.
His bottom lip trembling, and she was gone. When he opened his eyes he just managed to see the slip of red through the door, his feet pulling him forward a few steps, and he stopped. He shook his head. Sure he could wait five minutes...but there had been something in her voice, like a promise, that drew him on, he just wasn’t sure what.
And there she stood at the mouth of the alley, that red dress clinging to her every curve. He hadn’t even really been fully aware of leaving the building. Her back was to him, chin resting on her right shoulder, and she turned moving towards the shadows. He followed. “So I’d ask myself...” starting off serious but slipping into a more playful tone, “what’s a lady like yourself doing down a dark alley, all on her own?”
She chuckled low, and almost sickly sweet, but somehow still sultry, like the word was invented just for her. She spun round, slow, graceful her head cocked to the side, eyes appraising, “Maybe she’s lonely,” her voice just as inviting as her laugh, and again he found himself moving closer without any conscious decision to do so.
“You got a name?”
“Darla.”
Darla. He liked it. Suited her.
“Well Darla, I guess I’ll just have to...” reaching back, his eyes widening a little.
“Looking for this?” she pulled out the blade that had been tucked in the back of his jeans, holding it up to the light, “A little rude don’t you think?”
“S’nothing personal sweetheart. Just doing my job.”
“And not too well it would seem.”
“This the part where you tell me I’m insignificant?”
She chuckled again, “Oh honey, there isn’t an insignificant bone in that body,” running her thumb along the edge of the blade, she let her eyes wander over every inch of him, before returning to his face, “Wouldn’t complain about the packaging either.”
Dean fidgeted slightly, pulling at his jacket a little and ending with his arms folded across his chest, “Well thanks, now I feel completely naked.”
“You don’t just have to feel it.”
“Can’t we get this over with?”
“What’s the rush?”
“Well Dr. Sexy is just about to find out if his girlfriend’s gonna wake up, and I always like a slice of pie after killing a vamp, if we wrap this up quickly I just might make it to the little place on the corner of Lexington before it closes. They have great pie.”
“What makes you so sure you’d win?” she pinned him to the wall, the blade flat against his jugular, a nervous huff of air leaving him as he gulped, it was definitely too close.
“Well it beats the alternative.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” she tossed the blade aside, letting her fingers rest against his cheek, turning his face away from her, she let them ghost over his pulse point, “It can be quite exhilarating.”
Dean huffs, and turns back to look into her eyes, “Yeah? Gonna give me your sales pitch?”
She smirked, “I don’t have to,” taking half a step back, “You sought me remember.”
“What?”
“Don’t think I didn’t feel you, you’ve been dancing round this for days-”
“No-”
“Walking around with that big black gaping hole inside of you. You don’t even feel them screaming anymore do you? Just a dull ache where your stomach used to be,” brushing her fingers back through his hair and round to his cheek.
“But how do you-”
“And you just want it to stop,” placing her hand over his heart, “Can’t stand the thump, thump in that hollow tin shell," never taking her eyes from his, "I can make it stop.”
“How?”
“You know how,” bringing her finger up to his lips as he went to speak again, “Shh,” she whispered gently against his lips, “Close your eyes,” her hand hovering before those emerald depths, moving down as he let them close. His heart skipped a beat, the back of her hand grazing the tip of his nose, the other resting at the nape of his neck, the softest of sounds stuttering from his lips as pointed incisors tore flesh, sinking down, and the suction...he’d never felt anything like it, head falling back, arms wrapping round her tiny waist to keep him steady, his head swimming, there was no other sound in the world.
Dean opened his eyes, his knees giving out beneath him, but she kept him from falling any further, his eyes drawn to that face. God she was beautiful, like an angel. He was suddenly filled with a need for laughter but he couldn’t find any, tears wetting his cheeks. Wobbling a bit, he watched as she raised her hand, her nail digging into her skin, leaving a line of red just above her breasts, and he leaned in, falling into her, mouth open, letting the sticky substance bathe his tongue, and he drank, not really sure he wanted to let go.
A/N I know that there are parallels that can be drawn but that's what I was going for, and well she has a method, and she doesn't just go around siring people all willy nilly, there has to be something special, and Dean's definitely got it
|Part One |Part Two |Part Three |Part Four |Part Five |Part Six |Part Seven|
Series: The Overbite Saga
Characters: Dean, Darla
Rating: R
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 1320
Summary:Sam is dead and Dean is not exactly coping, or at all.
A/N: Ok so I started this story before season 6 started airing, so there was no influence from that, and well you know it doesn't follow the shows storyline, so Sam is still hellbound at this point. This is a look at how and what events led Dean to becoming a vampire. Prequel to Mine.
She drummed her nails, freshly manicured, down against the worn surface of the bar. Small town, big city, it didn’t matter, where there was beer neanderthals were sure to roam. Slapping her hand down flat she drew her gaze back to the egomaniac, who had so ‘graciously’ decided to bestow his presence upon her. Her lip twitching, hand snapping up, she caught her pursuer’s tongue between her thumb and middle finger, “Stop talking.”
“Oh-hay” all he managed to get out around his tongue, her nails digging in slightly, as she caught sight of the man who had just walked through the door. Drinking in the chiselled jaw, those full lips tugged into a grin that was just this side of cocky, and those eyes, they held a sparkle, not betraying the cold that lay within, but they didn’t have to, not for her. She released the pretty boy without so much as a backwards glance, swivelling round in her seat, eyes never leaving the newcomer. She leaned back, arms flat against the bar, already knowing he would come to her.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he leaned down into her, his body warm, voice whiskey rough, he really was too good to be true.
“How about a dance?” her voice silken, laced with desire, but she didn’t give pause for an answer. Slipping down onto her feet, his proximity forced her up against him, her hands flat against his chest, and she let the left linger as she brushed past. Grasping his arm, her hand slipping into his, she guided him to what so barely passed as a dance floor. Pulling him in close behind her and wrapping his arms round her waist, so they could sway together, she rolled her hips from side to side, his moving with hers. Reaching back with one hand, she caressed his cheek, tilting his face down to hers, her head falling back against his chest, the ghost of a breath falling between their lips.
But she moved at the last second, resting her finger over his lips, that bottom lip parting slightly as she slowly drew her finger down. Stepping round him, her hand resting on his shoulder, breasts brushing against his back, she blew gently along his neck, and he quivered, the fine hair there standing on end, as she stood before him now. Their eyes met, locking in step, as if some external force made it so. She brought her hands flat against his chest once more, taking the time to feel every contour of that well defined muscle, as she brought them down, slipping round his waist, beneath his leather jacket. A smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, she leaned into him, cheek against cheek, “Outside, five minutes,” tugging his earlobe gently with her teeth.
His bottom lip trembling, and she was gone. When he opened his eyes he just managed to see the slip of red through the door, his feet pulling him forward a few steps, and he stopped. He shook his head. Sure he could wait five minutes...but there had been something in her voice, like a promise, that drew him on, he just wasn’t sure what.
And there she stood at the mouth of the alley, that red dress clinging to her every curve. He hadn’t even really been fully aware of leaving the building. Her back was to him, chin resting on her right shoulder, and she turned moving towards the shadows. He followed. “So I’d ask myself...” starting off serious but slipping into a more playful tone, “what’s a lady like yourself doing down a dark alley, all on her own?”
She chuckled low, and almost sickly sweet, but somehow still sultry, like the word was invented just for her. She spun round, slow, graceful her head cocked to the side, eyes appraising, “Maybe she’s lonely,” her voice just as inviting as her laugh, and again he found himself moving closer without any conscious decision to do so.
“You got a name?”
“Darla.”
Darla. He liked it. Suited her.
“Well Darla, I guess I’ll just have to...” reaching back, his eyes widening a little.
“Looking for this?” she pulled out the blade that had been tucked in the back of his jeans, holding it up to the light, “A little rude don’t you think?”
“S’nothing personal sweetheart. Just doing my job.”
“And not too well it would seem.”
“This the part where you tell me I’m insignificant?”
She chuckled again, “Oh honey, there isn’t an insignificant bone in that body,” running her thumb along the edge of the blade, she let her eyes wander over every inch of him, before returning to his face, “Wouldn’t complain about the packaging either.”
Dean fidgeted slightly, pulling at his jacket a little and ending with his arms folded across his chest, “Well thanks, now I feel completely naked.”
“You don’t just have to feel it.”
“Can’t we get this over with?”
“What’s the rush?”
“Well Dr. Sexy is just about to find out if his girlfriend’s gonna wake up, and I always like a slice of pie after killing a vamp, if we wrap this up quickly I just might make it to the little place on the corner of Lexington before it closes. They have great pie.”
“What makes you so sure you’d win?” she pinned him to the wall, the blade flat against his jugular, a nervous huff of air leaving him as he gulped, it was definitely too close.
“Well it beats the alternative.”
“I wouldn’t know about that,” she tossed the blade aside, letting her fingers rest against his cheek, turning his face away from her, she let them ghost over his pulse point, “It can be quite exhilarating.”
Dean huffs, and turns back to look into her eyes, “Yeah? Gonna give me your sales pitch?”
She smirked, “I don’t have to,” taking half a step back, “You sought me remember.”
“What?”
“Don’t think I didn’t feel you, you’ve been dancing round this for days-”
“No-”
“Walking around with that big black gaping hole inside of you. You don’t even feel them screaming anymore do you? Just a dull ache where your stomach used to be,” brushing her fingers back through his hair and round to his cheek.
“But how do you-”
“And you just want it to stop,” placing her hand over his heart, “Can’t stand the thump, thump in that hollow tin shell," never taking her eyes from his, "I can make it stop.”
“How?”
“You know how,” bringing her finger up to his lips as he went to speak again, “Shh,” she whispered gently against his lips, “Close your eyes,” her hand hovering before those emerald depths, moving down as he let them close. His heart skipped a beat, the back of her hand grazing the tip of his nose, the other resting at the nape of his neck, the softest of sounds stuttering from his lips as pointed incisors tore flesh, sinking down, and the suction...he’d never felt anything like it, head falling back, arms wrapping round her tiny waist to keep him steady, his head swimming, there was no other sound in the world.
Dean opened his eyes, his knees giving out beneath him, but she kept him from falling any further, his eyes drawn to that face. God she was beautiful, like an angel. He was suddenly filled with a need for laughter but he couldn’t find any, tears wetting his cheeks. Wobbling a bit, he watched as she raised her hand, her nail digging into her skin, leaving a line of red just above her breasts, and he leaned in, falling into her, mouth open, letting the sticky substance bathe his tongue, and he drank, not really sure he wanted to let go.
A/N I know that there are parallels that can be drawn but that's what I was going for, and well she has a method, and she doesn't just go around siring people all willy nilly, there has to be something special, and Dean's definitely got it
|Part One |Part Two |Part Three |Part Four |Part Five |Part Six |Part Seven|