hi. looking for a fic where betty arrives home one day and i believe alice was kidnapped. then the serpents take in betty to protect her. thanks!
Hiya. I’m thinking that you are looking for this one. Enjoy! <3 Jandy
get lost (I'd die for you in a heartbeat) by @riverdalenerdlol (3/10 - M)
Summary: “Mom?” Betty calls into the house, peering around the corner.No response. As she makes her way into the kitchen and dining room area, Betty sees the door to the backyard has been haphazardly left wide open. The curtain attached to the inward side blows in the evening breeze. Before doing much else, Betty secures that door, shutting it and locking it. When she’s finished she faces the kitchen. It’s vacant… except for something unfamiliar left on the kitchen island. Betty walks over, her head tilting in concern. There’s a piece of paper taped to a rock and… blood pooled under it. She rips the note off of the stone, still confused. "Your mother says hi."--OR: When Alice gets kidnapped, Betty's taken into protection by the Southside Serpents. She meets Jughead Jones. They do not get along. An enemies to lovers, investigative, slow burn AU
Series Summary: You stop at a small cafe in Louisiana on your way home from hunting with the Winchesters. There is something about the man behind the counter that makes you hungry for more than just the pie.
Warnings for this chapter: Angst, language, other warnings in the tags
Word Count: 2,085
A/N: This is loosely based on Season 8 Episode 9 “Citizen Fang” but I adapted the storyline to fit into this series.
Masterbeta’d by my friend and soul sister @wheresthekillswitch. As well as the ever lovely @hannahindie. You are both amazing and I adore you. Thank you!
Behind? You can catch up here:
Masterlist
Tags are below the cut - please send me an ask if you would like to be added or removed from my tag list! :) Your feedback is so appreciated! (The gif is not mine)
x
Bad Blood
Part 8
“Enough!” Sam’s deep voice echos off the cheaply papered walls. “Martin, you need to back off. Now.” A satisfied smile curls your lips. “And y/n. I told you to stay home. You’re too close to this. You let me and Martin handle this, or…”
“Or what, Sam?” You narrow your eyes at him as you plant your fists on your hips, refusing to be intimidated by all 6’4” of him.
“Or you’re not going to like what happens next.” Sam returns your glare, and for a moment you almost flinch.
Movement behind you catches your attention and as you are beginning to turn around, Martin’s fist connects with the side of your face. The sound is like a crack of thunder inside your skull, and your head lurches backward. You feel the pain spreading like wildfire through every nerve and taste something like copper just seconds before everything goes black.
----
“Howdy, boys,” Benny’s voice echoes through the dark and he smiles wickedly. Four large figures slink closer as he grips the handle of his blade tighter. “I shoulda known Desmond wouldn’t want to get his hands dirty. Where is the ol’ coot, anyhow?”
They say nothing as they edge closer and Benny grinds his teeth. “Now, fellas, listen. I think you have the wrong idea here. I just came to talk.”
“Talk?” The large one on his right snorts. “Sure. That machete in your hand is saying everything, Benny.”
“Oh, this ol’ thing?” Benny lifts the knife, it’s blade glinting in the small sliver of moonlight from the skylight overhead. “No, I was just planning a little hike through the woods later on.”
“You always did think you were a comedian, didn’t you?” The vampire straight ahead scoffs, his teeth bared.
Benny narrows his eyes, hoisting the blade to rest against his shoulder. “Your sister always seemed to appreciate my particular brand of humor, Gerald.”
In a blur of growls and gnashing teeth, the vampire lunges at Benny with the other three close behind. Benny slashes, aiming for Gerald’s neck. The two sidekicks flank Benny, one wretches the weapon from his hand, while the other grabs a fistful of Benny's hair and yanks his head back..
“Hey, Count Douche-ula,” Dean’s voice stills the melee, and the five vampires turn to look toward the sound. “Get it, instead of ‘Dracula’...you know what nevermind.”
The momentary distraction is all he needs and Benny jerks his arm free. His fangs descend as he turns, gripping Gerald’s head and twisting violently. With a repulsive, wet pop, Benny severes the head from the vampire’s body, and throws it hard, hitting another and knocking him off balance.
Dean rushes forward, swinging his roughly hewn blade made of bone and obsidian and slices clean through the neck of the stumbling vamp. He kicks the discarded blade back toward Benny and after a few seconds, the fight is over. The two men stand, their chests heaving as they glance around at the four bodies and four heads littering the floor.
“Thanks, brother.” Benny smirks, clapping Dean on the back and wiping the blood from his blade on his thigh. Dean nods. “Count Douche-ula?”
“Sometimes they land, and sometimes they don’t.” Dean grins, shrugging.
They walk in silence back to the Impala, and for the first time since this whole mess started, it’s not full of aggression and bitterness. Dean pops the trunk and they unceremoniously toss their weapons in before closing it again. Benny pulls his phone from his pocket and Dean tenses. He knows he’s checking for word from y/n and just like that, the hostility returns.
“She call you, yet?” Benny frowns, his eyes not leaving his screen.
Dean checks and finds no new messages or missed calls. “Not yet,” he replies, tersely. He punches the send button just under her photo, silently willing her to answer. Her voicemail picks up instead and he ends the call, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth. “So what now? Why’d this Desmond send flunkies in his place.”
“I don’t know, but I’m guessing this fight is far from over, brother.” Benny sighs, returning his phone to his pocket and crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, Dean, if I’d known you’d had designs on y/n...what I mean is, I never meant to…”
Dean slices a hand through the air, cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter, man. What’s done is done. Let’s just focus on the job and we can save this conversation for...uh...never.”
Benny gives Dean a hard, earnest look. “I care about her.”
Dean nods, dropping his gaze to his feet. He clears his throat. “Alright, well, let’s assume that Martin and Sam are still on their way. Why don’t you go see if you can find her, make sure she’s okay. I’ll go and try to intercept my brother and his minion; try to get rid of them if I can.”
Benny agrees. “Thank you, Dean. Truly.”
Dean says nothing as he marches around to the driver’s seat of the Impala and slams the door closed. Benny watches as the engine roars to life and tears out of the parking lot.
As the tail lights fade, he makes his way to his own truck and mumbling to himself. “Alright, cher. Where’d you get off to?”
-----
Pain.
It’s dull, but throbbing and it’s your first thought as your consciousness begins to stir. Keeping your eyes clamped shut, you take an assessment of your various appendages. Panic ripples through you for a moment as you question whether or not your right arm has been removed from your body. There is only minimal comfort as you realize that, while still firmly attached, your hand has been handcuffed over your head and the lack of blood flow has rendered it numb. Reaching up carefully with your freed hand, you begin rubbing, hoping to generate some feeling. Your head continues to ache and you faintly register the sound of metal against metal. Your mouth is dry, like you’ve swallowed a sandcastle, and your neck lolls at an uncomfortable angle.
“Fucking Martin Creaser,” you bark as you ease your eyes open. It’s dark and you are handcuffed to the radiator, but you are marginally grateful to find you’re still in the room you’d been talking to Martin and Sam in earlier. You reach up, plucking a single bobby pin from your hair, silently thanking them for being men who apparently didn’t consider the idea that your hair accessories could double as lockpicks. “Amateurs,” you mumble.
After gripping it with your teeth and using your free hand to unbend the metal pin, you make short work of the handcuffs. The blood begins to flow again in your right arm and with it brings the unpleasant warmth and sensation of being pricked by thousands of tiny needles.
A soft buzzing sound catches your attention and you freeze, trying to hone in on the noise. Forcing yourself up on wobbly legs, you cross the room searching for the source. Just as you find your phone, half hidden under the bedskirt, the buzzing stops. You scoop the phone up and plop on the bed, still shaking your right arm, trying to regain feeling.
There are seven missed calls and five text messages, and, unsurprisingly, all of them are from either Dean or Benny. There really is no easy way out here. Whichever one you call back first is going to upset the other. Or will it? Neither of them have seemed too excited to have you around again. You bite your lip, struggling to decide the best course of action, when your phone rings. Benny’s name flashes on your screen and your stomach jumps.
“Hello?”
“Well, well, cher, look who finally decided to pick up her phone. Where are you?”
The sound of his voice is like velvet in your ear, and it sends a shot of warmth throughout your body.
“I’m at the hotel. Creaser knocked me out and…”
“Excuse me?” His voice drops to a dangerous growl.
“I’m fine.” You're mostly telling the truth. “But he’s certifiable, Benny. He knocked me out cold and I woke up handcuffed to the radiator.”
There are several seconds where, if it wasn’t for the sound of his breathing, you’d have thought he’d hung up.
“He’s a dead man.” The level of menace in Benny’s voice is alarming and exciting all at the same time.
“Forget about it, did you guys take care of Desmond? Where are you?”
“Desmond never showed. Dean’s tryin’ to get rid of the Hardy Boys and I am on my way to you, darlin’. Jus’ sit tight.” There’s another pause and this time, when he speaks, there’s a new tone to his voice; a warmth that you'd been missing. “You sure you’re alright, cher?”
Despite everything, you smile. “I’m sure. Just drive safe.”
-----
Martin
I slam the door of the beat up Ford pickup I hitched a ride from and nod to the driver. I’m frustrated and angry that Sam would ditch me over some text message from a woman. Doesn’t he understand the gravity of the situation?
I know Sam’s upset for what I did to y/n, but there was no other choice. I had to shut her up if we wanted to get this Benny character out of the way for good. I had half a mind to take her out on the spot; she is unclean, filthy - letting that fanger suck on her neck like a common whore. But if Sam was angry for knocking her out, he’d have been furious if I'd killed her. And Sam Winchester isn’t exactly someone I want as an enemy.
The bright side of having been abandoned in the middle of nowhere during this particular hunt, is that now I have all the bait I need to bring Benny out of hiding. I'm not one to pat myself on the back, but it is a fairly a brilliant plan, if I do say so myself.
I’ll keep her chained to the radiator for as long as it takes, and now that I don't have a Winchester looking over my shoulder, I can use whatever means necessary to force her cooperation. I have some rather creative ideas and a world of time.
I fumble the keys from my pocket as I climb the single flight of stairs to my motel room. When I round the corner when I see my door standing slightly ajar. I slip the knife from its place on my belt, and creep slowly toward my room.
Holding my breath, I silently enter the room, keeping my back to the wall. I scan the dark room and come up empty; not only is there no intruder, y/n is missing too. Her handcuffs are still attached the radiator where I left her.
“Dammit!”
Anger vibrates through my body like an uncontrollable tidal wave. I feel the surge of adrenaline pumping through my veins and I see red.
I move to close the door as a hand wraps around my neck. Long, thick fingers clutch cruelly around my windpipe, restricting the air to my lungs. I claw at the hand frantically, struggling to break free. Warm breath fans over my neck and I feel the hiss like a living thing inside my ear.
“Where is she?” Benny’s voice is like an electric current and his fingers loosen just enough to let me take one rattling breath.
“I...I don’t...kn..know,” I spit out, coughing and wheezing as Benny’s grip tightens again. My vision begins to blur.
“Now, you listen to me, you son of a bitch. I already planned on killing you, nice and slow, when I found out whatchu did t’ her,” Benny pauses, his fangs descending with a grotesque squelching sound. “I just didn’t know that tonight would be my lucky night.”
-----
For the second time in one day, you wake with a start. Your head still aches from where Martin coldcocked you earlier, but now there’s a new sensation accompanying it; a painful throb on the side of your neck. You blink, groggily, struggling to see in the pitch black room. It’s cold; unusual for this time of year. A shiver passes through your body as you struggle to recall what happened.
A loud, metal click makes you jump and a sliver of light creeps across the floor as a door opens. A figure appears, the light from behind them obscuring their face. Glancing down, you see now why you’re so cold. Your clothes have been removed, except for your underwear, and there is a fine trickle of blood winding slowly down your arm.
“Hello, y/n,” a man’s voice echos off the four walls of the cramped space and you look up to see the figure hasn’t moved. “Glad you’re awake.”
“Where am I?” Even you notice the thread of fear in your voice. You would have cursed yourself for how pathetic you sound, if your brain wasn’t so foggy. “Where are my clothes?”
“Well, I just had to get a little taste for myself. See what exactly all the rage was about.” There’s a cold, mocking tone to his voice, but his words don’t make sense. “Benny certainly has exquisite taste, if I do say so myself.”
“Who are you?”
“Oh, yes. Of course. How terribly rude of me. The name’s Desmond.”
-----
To Be Continued...
Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)
