#female vampire x female hunter
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bwabys-scenarios · 7 months ago
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Vampire kurapika?? ITS BEEN ON MY MIND ALL DAY
Strange Girl(NSFW)
!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!
Vampire!Kurapika x Fem!Reader
A/N: This post has been in my drafts since October 😭
warnings: slight yandere behavior, Kurapika is possessive/protective over you, fingering, creampie, biting, Kurapika drinks your blood
NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter
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In his few centuries of being a vampire, Kurapika had grown lonely. He hid himself away in the large manor that had been passed down in his family, only coming out to feed at night.
Although, on one of these nights, Kurapika’s life would change forever.
It was late October, perhaps even Halloween night. Kurapika had stopped keeping track of the exact date years ago. It didn’t really matter, he couldn’t feel the cold or the heat on his undead skin, so the changes in months and weather meant little to him.
He wasn’t really that hungry, but had decided to feed that night to get it over with. Honestly, the blonde tried not to feed all that often, preferring to stay in his manor and read to pass the time.
However, he heard the town nearby would be relatively quiet, considering there would be a huge party that all the humans would be attending. That meant he could easily pick off one of the stragglers in the dead of night, giving him an easy meal.
Kurapika roamed the streets, wearing a new coat from one of his latest victims and using the streetlights to read as he walked. It was a new book, some kind of romance novel. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the genre, honestly it just depressed him, but over his 300 years of life, the things he hadn’t read became smaller and smaller. He didn’t have the privilege of being picky anymore.
It was around midnight when he sensed someone else on the path ahead of him. He glanced up from his book for a split second, long enough to see who it was, but not long enough to cause suspicion.
Already, he was feeling bad. It was a girl, a pretty one at that. She was strolling down the street, humming along to something she was listening to in her headphones. The girl didn’t seem to notice him until she got closer, glancing up to give him a friendly smile, pulling off one of her headphones.
“Hi!”
Kurapika gave a quick nod in response before looking away. He didn’t like talking too much with his victims before he drained them, it just left a bigger impact on him to talk to his food before he ate it. “Did you not get invited to the party either? I thought I was the only one!”
He attempted to ignore her, waiting for her to get close enough to strike. “Oh, is that a romance novel? I haven’t seen it before!”
‘This human sure likes to talk.’ Kurapika thought, his scarlet eyes peeking over his book to get a better glimpse at her.
She was closer now, only a few feet away. Now he could tell she was rather plump, and incredibly cute. The woman was wearing a thin silk nightgown with a cardigan thrown over it to keep somewhat warm.
“… why are you dressed like that? Its the end of October, it’s not exactly warm out.”
Although Kurapika couldn’t feel the cold, but he could tell she could. She hummed, stopping 2 feet in front of him. “Oh, sometimes I have trouble sleeping, so I walk around and listen outside and listen to music until I get tired.”
The vampire sighed, looking her over. “You shouldn’t do that. The people say there’s a serial killer on the loose.”
‘That serial killer being me,’ he thought, his eyes scanning her figure.
She tilted her head, seeming to take in his appearance before speaking again. “Hmm? I’m pretty tough I’ll have you know! Look!”
She pulls out a little pocket knife, and it was almost amusing how small and useless it looked. “I’m armed!”
Kurapika looked at this girl standing before him and smiling, and he knew he was going to be leaving hungry tonight. “I see… well, I’ll be off then.”
The woman blinked, quickly turning to grab his hand. “Hey wait!”
Kurapika froze, the soft, warm feeling of her touch sinking into his hand. He almost shuddered. The only ways for vampires to experience warmth was through human touch or blood, so it almost a euphoric feeling to be touched. “What?”
He glanced back at her, giving her a slightly surprised look when he saw she was pouting. “You didn’t tell me why you’re out here all by yourself. It’s not safe for you either!”
Was this little human… worried for him? He wanted to laugh, but instead, Kurapika decided to indulge her. “I guess I’m on a walk as well.”
She seemed unimpressed with his answer, but didn’t push further. “Ah…”
He looked down, noticing she still hadn’t let go of his hand. When she caught him looking, she blushed and pulled her hand away. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
She twiddled her thumbs, glancing up at him. Kurapika found this human somewhat… cute.
“One more thing!”
She smiled shyly at him. “What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around town!”
Kurapika thought for a moment. He could lie to her, but he considered lying a sin. It was a little hypocritical of him, considering he killed people to eat.
“It’s Kurapika.”
She smiled, offering her hand to him. “Well I’m (Name), nice to meet you Kurapika!”
And like that, they were exchanging phone numbers. It took him a moment once he was alone to process that she had snatched his phone, gotten his number, and given him hers. He was too distracted by the kissy mark now on his cheek… and the sweet smile she gave him when she left.
This human had caught his interest… and he wouldn’t be letting her slip through his fingers.
———————
(Name) ended up being quite interesting, keeping him entertained. At first, that all she was, entertainment for him until he got bored of her presence.
But after spending yet another night as her personal body guard while she went out for drinks… he felt the creeping feeling of protectiveness beginning to evade his mind. He didn’t like the way the other humans spoke with her, how they touched her with little regards to who she may belong to.
Lately, when she requested he’d join her, Kurapika preferred spending nights in at her home. She enjoyed this as well, calling their meetings “sleepovers”. He hated how he found that cute…
“Kurapika, do you want to sleep on the couch or my bed? I promise I don’t mind sleeping on the couch-“
He stopped her by raising an eyebrow. “I would not kick you out of your bed, (Name).”
She pouted a little, something that always softened Kurapika’s cold exterior. “Do you have any other ideas, my dear?”
(Name) thought for a moment, furrowing her eyebrows. “Hmm… oh!”
Kurapika blinked when she grabbed him by the shoulder. “We can share my bed! Ah, that’s the best way to have a sleepover, isn’t it?”
Oh, his naive and innocent little friend. Kurapika sighed, rubbing his temple. “Dear, I am a grown man and you are a defenseless woman. Are you sure?”
(Name) tilted her head, looking up at him. “Yeah… because you would never hurt me, right?”
If his cold, undead heart could race, it would. He melted, cooing softly as he caressed her chubby cheek. “Of course not, my dear. I would never hurt you, never.”
She giggled, tugging him towards her bedroom. “Then let’s get ready for bed!”
——————
It was hard for Kurapika to concentrate on sleeping when (Name) was curled up next to him, clinging to his side. Did this woman know what personal space was?
He sighed, reaching out to gently caress her cheek. She was so soft, so warm… and she smelled like home. Kurapika had never felt more at ease in his long, miserable life. He only was able to relax and truly be himself when he was with her.
She slept so soundly, even with him, a man eating monster in her bed. Kurapika had told her of his true nature a month into their friendship… yet she stayed with him.
“You’re beautiful, you know…”
Kurapika leaned forward, giving her forehead a kiss. “I love you…”
The words just came out… and he found himself blushing at the fact. He… loved her? Was that what these feelings were?
That explained how protective and possessive he was over her, how all he wanted to do was keep her tucked away in his embrace for all eternity. His lips found hers, and he gave her a gentle kiss as she slept.
When he pulled away, his eyes flashed scarlet. Kurapika wanted her more than anything, and for once his connection to this human had nothing to do with his need to feed.
Kurapika… he genuinely loved her. Her kindness, gentle nature, and understanding mind all made him fall head over heels. No human had ever accepted him for who he was, but she had with ease.
As he gently caressed her cheek, Kurapika vowed to love her for the rest of his life, to keep her safe and happy.
And as the sun rose, he made sure the blinds protected him from its harmful rays. Kurapika didn’t want to hide in his coffin, he wanted to spend more time with her. Now that he knew what he was feeling, all he wanted was to soak in her presence for as long as he could.
“Good morning, my darling.”
She rubbed her eyes, still waking up when she felt his hand on her cheek. “Mmph… Kurapika? Good morning…”
He was still in awe at the fact she didn’t flinch at his touch. “You don’t mind?”
“Mind what?”
Kurapika caressed her cheek with his thumb, his scarlet eyes soft with affection. “This. Me touching you…”
She blushed a bit, looking away. “I don’t mind at all… don’t you know how precious to me you are?”
“Precious? To you?”
Kurapika leaned in closer, his undead heart soaring. “You mean it, (Name)? Truly?”
Her cheeks continued to get warmer. “Of course… why would I let you stay with me if I didn’t care for you? I’m not stupid, I wouldn’t just share my bed with anyone.”
It was Kurapika’s turn to blush this time. A vampire as old as him getting flustered over one human? It was embarrassing.
But he couldn’t help but swoon when she touched her forehead to his. “I love you too, you know.”
His face flushed an even brighter red. “Y-you heard that?”
“Felt it too.”
She smiled, pointing to her lips. Kurapika whined in embarrassment, hiding his face. He felt like a teenage boy again, embarrassed by his first crush.
“Mmph…”
His blonde eyelashes fluttered when she captured his lips with hers. Kurapika raised his hands to cup her chubby cheeks, lightly squishing them as he melted into the kiss.
She tasted so sweet, her tongue more delectable than any blood he’d ever drank. He felt almost drunk off of her affection, his eyes half lidded as he pulled her into his lap.
It wasn’t until she whimpered into the kiss and shifted in his lap that he realized he was hard. He felt humiliated, popping a boner from a heated kiss.
“Want you…”
His teeth grazed against her neck as he whimpered out his needs. “Need you, (Name)… so warm, wanna…”
Kurapika slipped his fingers into your panties right as his fangs sunk into your neck. You hissed in pain at first, but the feeling of him stroking your needy cunt was enough to have you mewling out his name. “K-Kurapika!”
He’d never pleasured a woman before, but she wouldn’t have guessed by the way he was touching her as if he had done it a hundred times already. His fingers sank into her just as he retracted his fangs, lapping at the small pinpricks in her neck.
“So pretty, like an angel…”
He pulled down his pajama pants just enough for his cock to spring forward, rubbing it against her needy pussy. “Warm… so warm, all wet for me…”
He pulled her down onto his cock, capturing your lips in a kiss. She could taste the metallic taste of her blood on his tongue, his hands moving her up and down on his cock.
“Squeezing me…” he said with a grunt, feeling her clench around him as she came.
“C-cumming, Pika!”
He kept moving her, his mouth moving to her pretty breast. His tongue flicked against her nipple, quickly taking the (color) bud into his mouth to suck on.
Kurapika left hickeys all over her, occasionally sinking his gangs into her skin. As he continued to fuck into her pretty cunt, his possessive feelings continued to grow until he was growling into her ear.
“Mine, all mine. No one touches you but me.”
He was almost feral, his teeth bared as he came inside of her. She was a panting mess, whimpering as his cum painted her walls.
After giving her a creampie, Kurapika calmed down a bit, feeling like he had claimed her in some way. He let out a soft purr, rubbing his face against her neck and licking the bite marks he had left there.
“Kurapika…”
She clung to him, letting him clean her up and apply small bandages to the bite marks he left. He felt slightly guilty, but that guilt was outweighed by the immense satisfaction he felt so see his beloved covered in his love bites.
“Mine, all mine…” he purred, curling up with her in bed. The two spent the rest of the day snuggling, never leaving each other’s side.
Kurapika had found a reason to keep living his eternal life, and would never let her go. His (Name), his love.
His everything.
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minminbunny · 3 months ago
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Enemies to Lovers AU - Vampire Hunter! Bang Chan/Vampire Fem! Reader
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"Stay," Chan said, holding up the holster. You held your win glass, "As you wish, hunter," you said, setting the glass down. Chan released the trigger, "You lured me on purpose. Why?" he asked, clutching the handle. You gave him a side, "I made a promise you see," you said, luring him close. Chan gulped, unknowingly inching himself forward, "What promise?" he asked, furrowing his eyes brows. A subtle smile etched your lips, "To my first love," you said, looking at him. You chuckled, "When you lived as long as me, hunter. You crave for things other than blood," you said, eyeing his wary expression. Chan clenched his jaw, "What's the fucking promise?" he grit, his voice wobbling at the end.
You held the holster away from your head, "Christopher, no matter what form you're in. You soul never changes," you said, hurt evident on your expression. Chan's breath hitched when you gripped the holster enough to bend the metal. You stood up, forcing him into a defensive stance. "I don't want to hurt you, my darling. I never did. But every single timeline we meet, you're always driven to kill me," you said, cornering him against the wall. Chan hesitated to pull out his daggers, "Stay back! Vampires falling for a human is unheard off," he exclaimed, his eyes filled with unknown hurt and fear. You held his cheek, "You felt it haven't you? When we met in that forest. I know you felt it, because I did," you said, hoping he wasn't in denial.
Chan's gaze wavered, "That twinge was from you?" he asked, his vulnerability apparent in his behavior. You shook your head, "I have no role in fate, Christopher. Please don't deny me this time. I can't live another decade hurting," you said, your eyes boreing into his. Chan exhaled a shaky sigh, "If I give in. What then?" he asked, gripping his thighs to ground himself. You gave him a solemn smile, "Then I get to love you as much as I possibly can. I get to pour every feeling I have harbored. Christopher, I craved you for decades. This obessession wouldn't fade out that easily," you said, your pressing your forehead with his. Chan felt himself get hypnotized by your words, "I'll give in. But if y-," he said, before you pulled him for a bruising kiss. Chan's lips synced with yours, he groaned into the kiss not liking the submission you placed him in. He pulled away and pinned you against the wall, "Relax, you've been waiting long enough," Chan whispered, kissing you long and deep. Tears streamed down your cheeks at the relief blooming in your chest. Chan deepened the kiss, his tongue mingling with yours.
NSFW BELOW CUT
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'Dear Lord, when I get to heaven, please let me bring my man,' you thought, spreading apart your legs just for his satisfaction. Chan grabbed your ankle, and he pampered kisses down your calves, "Poor thing, you've waited so so long to be touched, haven't you? You've been neglected, and it's all my fault," he murmured, sucking hickeys towards your upper thigh. You arched your back, sensitive to every single graze and nip he made, "Please, Chris. I need you. Been needing you," you sniffled, eyeing him with your half lidded eyes. Chan's breath grew heavier, "I know, darling. I can feel myself throbbing for you," he chuckled, his hand pumping his girthy hot shaft. You gulped at the sight, your cunt clenching around the warm air surround the both of you. Chan tapped his cock head against your clit, "You're practically a virgin aren't you? So fucking drippy," he cursed, easing his finger in. Your walls fluttered, "Hah, hah," you gasped, remembering how good it was being pleasured by another. Chan grit his teeth, the veins on his jaw protrubed at the sight of your pliant body. You whined when he eased another finger up your pulsing cunt, "Chris, hah," you whimpered, clentching hard around his fingers. Chan curled them against your sensitive gland, "I'm here, darling. I'm never leaving you. Never again," he said, pumping his fingers in tandem with his thumb rubbing circles against your puffy clit until you came.
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k0juki · 6 months ago
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You don't wanna dance?
vampire hunter!Lando Norris x vampire!fem!reader au!
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Warnings: mentions of drugs and killing but it's just a mention!
English is not my first language so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! Also picture is not mine! Credit goes to the owner! Request are open!
More posts here! I'm gonna make it a little series.
Words: over 2k.
---
For the last couple of centuries, I spent my importantly traveling and hiding from vampire hunters. They almost killed all mine kind and because of that, vampires have become mere legends and myths.
A lot of them died, but others learned how to survive. Most of young vampires stayed in groups with others, more older vampires. Who protect them.
And in the heart of the loud city, where cobblestone streets echoed with human laughter, stood a lone figure cloaked in shadows. It was Lando.
Lando is a renowned vampire hunter, prowling the night with purpose, his senses honed to detect even the faintest trace of the undead. He always knew what he had to do. What is his purpose in this world. And mostly, he knew where to look for his prey.
They always hide in places like this, with loud music and a lot of people that spend all their money on doubtful drugs that get them killed.
Places like night clubs and bars are no stranger to Lando, and if he wasn't tangled up in this kind of job, he would have joined everyone there and enjoyed his young life with pretty women and one night stands.
"It's always clubs, never the quiet, relaxing places." Lando sighed and stepped inside. Saint and Sinners, an amazing name for a club. The air was a lot heavier and smoke from cigarettes could be smelled. A perfect place for vampires.
Amidst the pulsating rhythm of the club, neon lights danced and shadows whispered secrets in dark corners, the vampires were here, he was sure of it. Lando stood like a solitary sentinel, his gaze sweeping the crowded dance floor with practiced vigilance.
He's from a family full of vampire hunters and as a seasoned vampire hunter, he was no stranger to the dark allure of the night, but this night would test his resolve in ways he could never have imagined.
Across the smoky haze of the dimly lit room, his eyes locked on one woman whose back was towards him. Her hair was moving around as she danced carelessly. But then it was like something had stopped her.
As she turned around and her eyes locked with his, it was like when time stops. Who is she? What a girl like her is doing here? Surely she wasn't here for some drugs, she isn't this type of girl. And when you live long enough, you start to recognise the same people in different bodies but with the same intrigues.
She knew who he was the moment she saw him, only a fool wouldn't know who he is, but she wanted to know what he was doing here. She decided to move towards him with an ethereal grace, her every step a was grace and allure that she knew that drew him in like a moth to flame.
That woman is Y/n, a vampire whose beauty defies description, her eyes like pools of liquid moonlight that held him captive with their magnetic gaze. Despite the danger she posed, Lando found himself unable to tear his gaze away, his heart pounding in his chest with a mixture of fear and fascination.
As the music pulsed through the air like a heartbeat, Lando felt the pull that drew him ever closer to her, like two stars destined to collide in the vast expanse of the night sky. With each passing moment, the distance between them narrowed until they stood mere inches apart, the air thick with anticipation.
"Who are you?" Lando's voice was barely a whisper, lost amidst the cacophony of the club around them.
Y/n's lips curled into a seductive smile, her voice a melody that sent shivers down his spine.
"I could ask you the same thing, handsome stranger." She replied, her tone playful yet tinged with a hint of danger. "But I think we both know the answer to that."
Lando felt a surge of heat rush through him at her proximity, his senses overwhelmed by the heady scent of her icy perfume and the electricity that crackled between them.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and caution.
Y/n's smile widened, her gaze never wavering from his. "What do you think I want?" she teased, her words laced with a hint of danger.
She stepped closer to him and said "Isn't it obvious? I wanna dance." She whispered in his left ear and wrapped her arms around his neck. Inhaling his scent that filled her lungs, she felt as he put his hands on her hips.
His cold rings burned against her soft, yet cold skin, but his hands were so much warmer. She knew that she will lose control, but he smelled so godamn good.
"Dance? Is that what you want?" He thought that was a strange request, so he couldn't help but ask.
"Yeah, you're at the night club and you don't want to dance?" She started to pull away, but he was quick to take her back in.
"No, no, I just…I don't know you, you know? How could I trust you?" He still wasn't sure if she was a vampire, but vampires are known for how they can manipulate you into things you would even dream about. And he felt like she could be one of them.
"Hmm…you're right, we don't know each other so well," she spoke "and you're right, you can't trust nobody" and completely pulled away from him and stepped back, so he couldn't grab her like last time.
"Maybe it's better if it's stay like that." She answered somehow coldly, she wanted to vanish into a crowd of dancing bodies when she felt his hand grasp her wrist.
Turning to look at him, she was about to say something, but he beamed her with "I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry." He felt the cold skin in his hand and decided if his theory of her being that mystical creature was true.
Y/n wasn't stupid. She knew he was a very dangerous man and that she shouldn't be playing around with him, but because she knew who he really was, she thought it could be fun to mess with him a little and play along with her being just a tipsy little girl that has a little drunk crush on him.
"It's alright. Let's just dance, yeah?" She asked and he just nodded with a smile on his face. She tugged him more into the dance floor and gosh, he was beautiful, with his green eyes that had sparks in them, his curly hair that was so soft to touch and with that gorgeous smile, he was just amazing.
"So" She started, breaking their silence.
"So?"
"So, what's a guy like you doing in a place like this?" Curious little thing she is. Always needs to know all the answers. And you know what they say, curiosity killed a cat. But, well, she was already dead, so she couldn't care less though.
"I could have asked you the same thing?" He wasn't going to tell her that he's here because of her kind. That he's going to kill her if she is something that he thinks she is, no, he knows it.
"Yeah, but I asked first."
"I'm looking for someone." He stated after a few seconds. His green eyes looked around the club and then back to her.
"For who?"
"I don't know yet," he started "but I think it could be you." He wasn't so smooth about it at all and took her back in his hold.
She knew what he meant by it and he knew it was her that he was looking for, but she just smiled at him and pulled him closer by the collar of his white shirt that had a few open buttons down.
"Yeah? And how do you know it's me you are looking for?" She chuckled, maybe because she knew he couldn't do anything to hurt her. There was too many people and other vampires that were watching them in dark corners and if he even tried something, she could end him by just snapping fingers. That's how powerful she really is.
He didn't say anything, he just looked at her and as they danced together in the dimly lit room, Lando found himself drawn deeper into this woman's web of temptation, his every instinct screaming at him to flee, even as his heart urged him to stay.
"You know I can't stay here" he whispered, "stay here with you." His voice barely audible above the din of the club. It was something about her that just took him in and he knew he had to leave or else things could get bad.
Y/n's eyes softened, a flicker of vulnerability passing across her features, strange. "I know," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy the moment while it lasts."
He was mesmerized by her. She wasn't just an ordinary vampire, no, he was pretty sure that she is one of the vampires that lives so long because they live in clans, with other, more older and wiser vampires.
This could be his chance.
His chance to get closer to her and her vampire family. To kill them. To kill all the remaining vampires like he promised to do, because that's his job. His purpose.
But each of them, was playing their own dangerous game.
"I'm Lando, by the way." He introduced himself with his British accent. "Lando Norris."
As Lando extended his hand towards her, Y/n's eyes sparkled with mischief, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She knew the game he was playing.
"It's nice to meet you Lando," she answered "but unfortunately for you, I already know your name." Her smile was getting bigger and that sweet playfulness was now becoming a little less and less funny.
That made him stop. She knew him? How does she know him? They had never met before, did they? Confusion could be seen on his pretty face and she loved every second of it. She lives for it.
"You really think I'm this stupid?" She said as laughter left her mouth. The music swelled around them and Lando leaned in closer to that pale woman, his voice a low murmur against her ear.
"How? How do you know my name then?"
"I had hanky-panky with your father too," she pointed out back in his left ear, "and with your grandfather as well and so on...you are all very similar.”
Lando said nothing. He just stood there like a fool. Who was this woman? Was she really this old vampire that knew his family members better than he did himself?
"Your family is notorious for hunting my kind Lando. You really think I wouldn't know you? Or your family?" She teased, her voice a soft melody that sent shivers down his spine.
And he knew that he should be afraid. He was in the lair of vampires. He had every right to be afraid. But then again, he needed to know her. Her true identity and what she is capable of, if she is a threat.
"You won't tell me your name?"
"I don't know," she admitted, "I haven't decided." Y/n liked to play hard to get. It was in her nature.
“You want to know my name hunter?” she felt his hands tighten on her hips and how he started to rub his thumbs up and down.
“Yes, of course I do.” What was he doing? He should have left and not be asking for her name. And definitely not holding her close to him.
“It's Y/n”
It's Simple, but effective. He liked that name, he liked her. She had this something inside of her, that he hasn't seen in everyone else. Something special.
As the music continued to pulse through the club and the crowd swirled around them, Y/n suddenly pulled away from Lando's soft grasp, leaving him standing alone on the dance floor, bewildered and disoriented.
"Well...I guess i will see you around, Lando"
For a moment, Lando stood frozen in place, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched that strange vampire woman disappear into the sea of dancing bodies.
He felt a surge of panic rising within him, a sense of vulnerability he hadn't felt in years. "Wait!" he called out, his voice lost in the loud music of the club around him.
But she was gone, vanished into the dark club without a trace, leaving Lando to wonder if their encounter had been nothing more than a figment of his imagination. No, no, she was real. She has to be real, she knew his family, she knew him.
As he stood there, alone in the dimly lit club, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him from within. He had been so sure of himself, so confident in his abilities as a hunter, but now he felt lost and adrift in a world he no longer recognized.
With a heavy heart, Lando turned and made his way towards the exit, the sounds of the club fading into the background as he stepped out into the cool night air. He felt like he could finally breathe again.
As he disappeared into the darkness, he couldn't help but wonder, if he would ever see that woman again, or if she had been nothing more than a fleeting illusion in the night.
Do you want a part 2? Or just some blurbs, imagines, etc. from this au?...write me!🩷
Don't copy or translate my work!
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yandere-writer-momo · 1 year ago
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Yandere Short Stories: The Sponser
Yandere Afab Vampire x Afab Vampire Hunter Reader
For my dear friend @corvlth
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Eclectic. Odd. Bizarre. Out of the box. Those were all ways one would describe Duchess Evaline Bohéme. She was known to be an eccentric artist who’d much rather spend her time painting than socializing with other nobles.
There was no point socializing with humans in her mind. It didn’t matter how many centuries went by or how often she changed her name, human nobles remained the same. Greedy and selfish.
Which made issues arise. She didn’t want to marry nor did she want to date. Evaline lost herself in her oil paintings, dedicating every fiber in her being to the vibrant colors and the soft contours of a figment of her imagination.
But that was until she met her. (Your name), the vampire hunter. A gruff and tenacious woman who took the social world by storm by being out of the norm. A woman doing a man’s job? It was unheard of… and it fascinated the duchess.
People underestimated the huntress because of her gender but Evaline didn’t. She could feel it from her place in the shadows that the huntress was far more capable than the hunters before her. So how could Evaline obtain her?
Evaline would sell out her brethren. If (your name) hunted all the other vampires, then (your name) would trust her. Maybe she’d open her heart to Evaline? The thought made the Duchess giddy.
Evaline watched (your name) from her perch of her bedroom window. Her violet eyes memorizing every part of the scarred huntress’s face. In Evaline’s eyes, she was the most magnificent creature she’s ever seen.
Evaline swore if she had a heartbeat, it would have stopped when they locked eyes. That her cheeks would blush a cherry red under the huntress’s strong gaze. She was enamored.
(Your name) took the small bag of gold from the butler. The huntress tipped the brim of her hat down as a sign of respect.
Evaline sunk to her knees, the wood splintered under her hands from the force she fell with when (your name) climbed on top of her horse and rode off.
Evaline wanted her… and Evaline would have her. Whether in this life or the next.
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yoyomomiko · 5 days ago
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BITE INTO ME
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Pairings: Vampire!Feitan x F!reader
Summary: Feitan is usually under control, but ever since you joined the Phantom Troupe, he can't help but admire your blood each time it spills in battle. He simply wants a taste, always gazing at you with that look in his eyes that make your knees buckle. Just what happens when he catches you injured and vulnerable?
Warnings: BLOOD; wounds; slight gore (not really), MARKING; biting, CURSING, fighting, A BIT SUGGESTIVE but not really, Feitan's a little bitch, NOT PROOFREAD; might contain grammar mistakes, English is NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!!
(A/N): THIS WAS MY FAVOURITE FIC FROM MY HALLOWEEN SPECIAL AND I WAS WAITING TO WRITE THIS FOR SOOO LONG!! It honestly came out really good and this took me so long to write, but it was all worth it! -> halloween m.list
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"Shit!" The word tore out of your mouth as you crashed down onto the cold and hard concrete. The impact shot blinding pain through your knees, your palms scraped against the rough ground, gravel scratching your skin as you caught yourself, fingers trembling.
You forced yourself to look up, breath ragged as you focused on the man in front of you, your target. He stood tall, his smirk barely hidden by his bloodstained lips. You could feel your heartbeat increasing, thudding in your ears, the harsh sting in your legs reminding you that you miscalculated and let your guard down at the wrong second.
Your mission, assigned by Chrollo, felt heavier than ever. And failure... Well, that wasn't an option.
You were new to the Phantom Troupe, fresh blood among a league of killers more ruthless and skilled than you could hope to be yet. The others were more used to pain, masters at controlling their suffering, all while you still feel every sting, every break in your body with too much clarity.
Your hand pressed over a gash on your arm, the sticky warmth of blood spreading over your palm. Even with a small amount of light, the red caught Feitan's gaze instantly. He stood nearby, his eyes fixed on the crimson streak trailing down your arm, and for a moment, he didn't look like your ally anymore, barely holding himself back.
"Get up." He murmured, voice low and almost irritated, yet his gaze remained glued to the blood. Despite the pain in your body, you could feel a chill run down your spine that had nothing to do with the target.
He stepped closer, almost too close. You could feel his gaze on you as you forced yourself to your feet, your knees throbbing and your arm slick with fresh blood. Feitan's eyes hadn't moved from you as the sting of your injuries were slowly fading.
The target lunged toward you again, throwing a punch with enough force to send you crashing back. Feitan moved in a blur, his hand grabbing the man's wrist with bone-crushing strength. His eyes widened in panic as he struggled, but it was far too late. Feitan twisted the man's arm with a snap, the sound making you sick as the target screamed in agony, all while listening to Feitan's degrading words.
Feitan shoved the man to the floor, glancing back at you, his eyes proving he was enjoying every second of this, savoring the moment.
Fueled by pain and anger, you stepped forward, fists clenched. You needed to prove you could handle this. Ignoring the pulsing ache in your legs, you moved quickly, catching the target off guard as he tried to recover from his broken arm and Feitan's brutal grip.
You drove your heel into his stomach, knocking the air out of him as he gasped. Feitan glanced at you with something that almost looked like approval.
Feitan, however, was far from finished. He crouched down in front of the gasping man, pulling out his thin sword with an unsettling smile on his face.
The target stuttered, but before he could get a word out, Feitan slashed a clean line across his chest, a slow cut that made the man yell out due to the horrifying pain. Feitan glanced at you, as if inviting you to finish it.
Gathering your strength, you gave a nod, stepping forward and delivering the final strike, driving your weapon down as the target's body went limp.
It was over, no other sound other than the slow drip of blood on the concrete.
You exhaled, the ache of your injuries coming back. Feitan's gaze was still on you, and this time, it trailed from the blood smearing on your hand to your bloodstained clothes.
"Not bad. Did good." He muttered, voice barely above a whisper. For a moment, you could almost feel the intensity of his gaze, as if the battle wasn't quite over yet, at least not for him.
"Thanks..." You huffed out, chest heaving up and down as you struggled to control your breath. You noticed Feitan's fangs peeking from behind his lips as his head was raised up, finally showing his full face.
"Be careful." His tone went softer, but it felt more like a warning than advice, as if he's reminding himself to stay in control.
...
...
...
You could sense Feitan's gaze burning through you, watching you closely. Little did you know, his control seemed to falter each time he saw blood. To be more specific, your blood.
Lately, he's been making up excuses to stand closer to you, or get into a mission along with you. His eyes betray every struggle to maintain his restraint, to hold back his thirst for just a taste. He always creeps up behind you, staring at you with piercing eyes.
You were wondering if it's because he hated you.
But that was not the case, no, not at all.
You accidentally cut your finger by accident due to playing around with your weapon. It wasn't anything serious by all means, but it was enough to draw blood. You thought you were alone, until you felt a familiar presence behind you, a shadow towering over you.
"Do you need anything?" You asked in a hushed tone, gently licking the blood from your finger, just to ease the sting up a bit. That didn't go unnoticed by Feitan.
"Just wanted to check." He replied, seeming unbothered. Truth is, he wanted to leap forward and bite into your neck, just to taste your blood, wich only seemed to cloud his mind each passing second.
Feitan's curiosity about you clearly grew, and he can no longer disguise the fact that he's drawn to you not just as a fellow fighter, but something more primal. His stare feels more intense, his presence darker. You caught him staring at you countless times, eyeing you from bottom to top.
"Check what?" You asked, titling your head to the side. Feitan thought you were teasing him, somehow always ending up full of blood and panting. It was as if you wanted him to just lick away at your wounds.
"Your cut. Let me see." He answered, grabbing your wrist and inspecting the way red seeped out of your small wound over your finger.
He gently brushed his finger over your injury, but it was for sure an accident as he got some of the blood on his own fingertips.
Feitan released your hand, letting it fall down slowly as you stared up at him, eyelashes kissing your cheeks each time you blinked, only provoking Feitan further.
He let out a silent groan, turning around and taking a quick glance at you, before exiting the room, leaving you dumbfounded.
What you didn't know, is that the moment Feitan was out of your sight, he began licking away the few drops of blood that smeared on his finger, the taste only feeding onto his desire and need for more.
...
...
...
You panted, pressing your hand over the harsh wound on your shoulder, sticky warm blood smearing everywhere. You were gravely injured, already completely vulnerable.
The rest of the Phantom Troupe were fighting against a rival gang, but the moment you got this badly wounded, you fled and found a hiding spot. You felt pathetic, as if you were betraying them by acting this weak, running away from battle.
One of the men from the rival gang got to you, the impact shooting a blinding pain through your whole arm. That sharp, jolting ache left you momentarily dazed, before you went into 'fight or flight' mode, and completely ran away.
Tears were threatening your eyes, not because of the burning agony you felt in your injuries, but because you were ashamed for what you've done.
Just then you heard footsteps, panic racing through your veins, your heartbeat increasing once more. You weren't sure if you were ready to fight, you were too vulnerable right now.
Feitan, shit, it was only Feitan.
Feitan had found you before the others, his eyes holding a dark edge to it. A glint that hinted he was savoring every second of watching you like this. You can feel the intensity of his struggle, the barely contained thirst as he kneels in front of you, one hand moving to steady you while the other traces a line close to your wound.
He hesitated, clenching his fists and trying to force them away from you, but he just couldn't.
"Just a taste?" He asked, voice low and hushed. It wasn't a question for your permission but of how much he can restrain himself.
You feel his cold fingers tilt your chin, his lips brushing dangerously close to your skin. His other hand hovered over your wound, his fingers ghosting across the torn fabric and the warmth of blood beneath.
His eyes flicked back to yours, enjoying your vulnerability, the quiet hitch in your breath as he leaned in closer. You swallowed, heart pounding as he watched you carefully, his lips tugging upwards in a dark and twisted smile, as if tormenting you.
He gripped your hand, the hand that you held over the bleeding gash in your shoulder. He took your hand off of where you were hiding your precious blood, gently placing it in your lap. The red slicked down your arm as you let out a hiss, the cold air hitting your open wound.
"Scared?" He asked, voice dropping to a whisper, taunting blended with something deeper, something dangerous.
Before you could answer, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing the edge of your wound, so light you almost couldn't feel it. You held your breath, a stinging feeling in your chest.
All of the sudden, he pressed his fangs down. A sharp, electric pain mixed with something you couldn't quite name as his mouth touched your skin, savoring that first taste of blood.
Your breath hitched, and for a split second, the world faded, every surrounding disappearing as it was just you and him. From the firm press of his hands, to the cold touch of his fingers against your jaw, and the strange warmth of his mouth tracing the wound with a hunger that made your pulse race.
He pulled away slightly, only to dig his sharp teeth into your exposed skin, making you bleed as he drew more blood, tasting you completely, smearing the crimson on your clean skin. You let out a groan as he left a mark, licking away at the seeping red.
It was like every instinct you had was screaming at you to pull away, to move, to protect yourself. But something in his gaze held you frozen.
He drew back slightly, his lips stained faintly red as he looked down at you. His fingers traced down your jawline, gently brushing over your pulse as if feeling the rapid beat there.
"Weak." He murmured, almost a mockery, yet his grip on you was steady, gentle and careful.
You wanted to snap back, to defend yourself, but the pain and the fear left you speechless. A part of you knew you should've been scared, should've wanted to push him away. But he could easily overpower you, his eyes flaming as he studied you like you were fragile, something to be toyed with.
"Next time..." He whispered, lips close to your ear.
"Don't hide." He warned, letting his words sink in. With that, he released you, leaving you to steady yourself as he rose to his feet, his gaze still holding that twisted satisfaction.
Without another word, he turned around and walked away, the faintest hint of your blood smeared on his lips as he disappeared back into the battle, leaving you shaking and breathless, unable to decide if what you felt was fear, or something else entirely.
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★yoyomiko ★miko
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pascaloverx · 10 months ago
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TVD MASTERLIST
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© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.
AO3 LINK
chapter one
chapter two
chapter three (+18)
chapter four
chapter five
chapter six
chapter seven
chapter eight
chapter nine
chapter ten
chapter eleven
chapter twelve
chapter thirteen
chapter fourteen (final)
epilogue (+18)
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iobsessoverfictionalmen · 1 month ago
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Hello, I was the anon who asked the question about what all you wrote, I was just afraid of putting my name at the time. And there were so many choices, but I had to go with the one that has my heart at the moment and that is Rafael Barba for the Halloween themed prompt.
I was thinking of something along the lines of vampire Rafael Barba and female reader and NSFW(whatever you want, I am not picky)
I love your works and it was this page that actually got me falling in love with Rafael Barba
Thank you for your request and your lovely words! Rafael is my favourite character in SVU. I hope you enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it!
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Warnings: mentions of injury, blood and violence, vampire au, NSFW, tiny hint of yandere vampire Rafael, and a hint of angst.
Spanish translation:
cariño - sweetheart
The knock that sounded at your door was too rapid to be a child who was trick or treating especially since the children had already been escorted home by their parents.  Hushed voices discussed the rumours about the supernatural beings that inhabited this town as quietly as the autumn leaves fell from the trees onto the pavement below.
The townsfolk paid the rumours no mind; dismissing them as fanciful creations to amuse and scare the tourists that wandered through this time of year.
You wished you had that luxury.
For a second the knocking ceased.  Then it resumed sounding heavier and more insistent than before.  Sighing, you hauled yourself out of your chair and reluctantly moved over to the door, cursing whoever was on the other side.  You were comfortable in your chair with a blanket wrapped around you.
You pulled your front door open and barely stopped yourself from gasping in shock.  On the other side of the door stood Rafael Barba.  His normally vibrant jade green eyes were dull and his hand was pressed to his side attempting to slow the flow of blood.  Knowing Rafael as you did, you knew he’d be more annoyed about the damage to his suit rather than the injury.
Rafael’s legs wobbled and he swayed alarmingly.  He managed to gasp out an apology for disturbing you and explain that he didn’t know where else to go.  Pushing your own annoyance to the side, you darted forwards and wrapped his free arm around your shoulder so you could guide him into the house.  Before you crossed the threshold, you muttered out a quick sentence granting him permission to enter.
“Where does it hurt?”  You asked once Rafael was lying down on your couch.
“It doesn’t.”
“Liar.”  You chided.
“It takes one to know one,” Rafael fired back.
You rolled your eyes, “How was I to know that I am descended from an ancient line of vampire hunters without anyone telling me?”
Rafael let out a huff, “You expect me to believe that you didn’t know?”
The answer was written across your face and Rafael’s disbelieving expression morphed into a horrified one, “You really didn’t know.”
You confirmed his words with a nod of your head, “After you left, a vampire tried to bypass the permission thing.  He threw a rock, broke a window and tried to enter the house that way.”
“Tried to?” Rafael echoed.
“Grandpa was visiting.  He went to the broken window, made sure the vampire saw him and cool as a cucumber, Grandpa reached into his sleeve, pulled out an arrow and threw it through the window.  It hit the vampire squarely in the chest.  He crumbled into ash and after I processed all of those unexpected sights, Grandpa decided I hadn’t been shocked enough.  He chose that moment to fill me in regarding our family history.”
Some colour reappeared in Rafael’s face.  If you had to guess, you would say that the damaged skin around Rafael’s wound was starting to heal.  Pretty soon the vampire that was sitting on your couch would be fully healed and he’d have no reason to stay with you.  Not wanting to witness him leaving again, you stood up and turned away from him.
“I’ve learned a lot since you left.  One of the most important things is that if a vampire is given permission to enter, it can be revoked at any time.”
“Cariño...”
“You’re going to leave again.  I need to keep myself safe.”
“What if I didn’t leave?”
“You will.  Maybe not today or tomorrow.  A time will come and you will leave.  Vampires and legacies of vampire hunters don’t mix well.”
Unseen by you, Rafael swung himself around so that he was now sitting upright on the lounge and he gritted his teeth as his skin finished knitting itself back together.  Once the healing ache subsided, he stood up and carefully made his way over to you.  Part of him was grateful that your enhanced senses hadn’t fully developed yet otherwise you would have heard him approaching and Rafael didn’t want to think about all the places where you grandfather had stashed weapons around the house to protect you.
“Who says a vampire and a legacy don’t mix well?” He breathed, wrapping an arm around your waist and yanking you to him.  As he pulled you into his chest, he spun you around so that your eyes locked.
Your hands came up to brace yourself on Rafael’s clothed chest and the vampire bit his lip.  Your skin felt so warm and soft against him.  Memories resurfaced, reminding him what it felt like to have your body pressed against his so tightly that it was hard to tell where you ended and he began.
“Scholars and popular media,” you admitted in a whisper.  You were so entranced by Rafael’s presence that you completely forgot about your hands resting on his vest.
“Did you forget that I have a habit of proving people wrong?”  Rafael questioned.  His nose brushed against yours and he scanned your face for any sign of discomfort.  Needing to be certain in a low voice he asked if he could kiss you.
You uttered the nickname that you’d given him followed by a breathy plea for him to kiss you and his resolve crumbled.  The kiss started off slow and gentle however it didn’t stay that way.  Rafael had been away from you for too long.  He swiped his tongue across your bottom lip wanting access to your mouth.  When you granted it, Rafael immediately deepened the kiss.  At the same time, pride blossomed in his chest when he thought about the vampire and his coven who foolishly challenged and wounded him.  None of them would be able to come near you now.
Breaking the kiss, Rafael took your hand and guided you down the hallway and into your bedroom.  When you slipped into bed, he climbed in behind you and scooped you into his arms, “No one will harm you while I’m around cariño.”  He vowed as your eyelids fluttered and you slipped into the land of dreams.
Before Rafael closed his eyes, he swore to himself that he would spend the next few days worshipping you and demonstrating how he could use his enhanced abilities to bring you to the heights of pleasure.  Heat zipped down his spine and pooled low in his groin as he imagined all the filthy things that he would do to you.  He decided that the first kink he'd explore with you would be orgasm denial.
The thought of your voice begging for him to let you cum after he had brought you to the heights of pleasure only to deny you that final, sweet release caused Rafael's cock to stiffen.
“Who knows,” Rafael thought to himself, pressing a kiss to your forehead and your cheek before he rested his head on your shoulder and tangled your legs together, “spending so much time alone with me might be exactly what (Name) needs to strengthen her own enhanced senses.  No other supernatural being can match a vampire's endurance in combat or in a romantic setting.  But (Name) isn’t just an ordinary person.  She comes from a powerful line of hunters and maybe she’s the one the old prophecy referred to.”
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onceuponastory · 2 years ago
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just one bite - vampire!bucky
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Plot: Despite making her a living as a Vampire Hunter, most of the ‘monsters’ Y/N encounters are human. So much so, in fact, that she’s starting to question if vampires do exist after all. But on this hunt, she’s about to find out just how real they are. Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x FemaleVampireHunter!Reader (if you look REALLY hard) Warnings: Death, murder, blood, biting...basically all the usual vampire stuff is a warning. Vampire Bucky being a creep (he’s a warning, okay?). Also mentions of weapons/guns, implied manipulation/mind control and dubcon, so no minors please. A/N: This was meant to be for the final @the-slumberparty AU challenge, but again, I’m a little late. I realised I haven’t done a vampire story in a while, and then I remembered just how vampire-esque Seb looked at the Sharper premiere, so here we go! Not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.
Slowly, Y/N steps into the clearing, heading for the graveyard. As the branches and leaves crush under her feet, she scans the area, looking for her target. There are rumours a vampire has been terrorising the residents of the nearby village for months now. People going missing, bodies with two perfectly aligned bite marks on their necks, the usual. And as the only vampire hunter around for miles, Y/N has been sent to stop it before it claims another life. 
Honestly, despite her reputation as a vampire hunter, Y/N hasn’t actually dealt with a lot of real vampires. Sure, most of her cases involve a maniac with a penchant for blood, but the ones she’s stopped recently all seem to be very much human, rather than the creatures of the night she was warned about. Truthfully, Y/N hopes she can be forgiven for thinking vampires don’t actually exist, and that there’s a rational explanation for what’s been going on. But if the belief that it was a vampire, rather than a human who is capable of such cruelty makes people sleep better at night, then so be it. 
Slowly, she approaches the graves, huge stone statues staring down at her. Y/N registers her stomach churning a little. After doing this for so long, and after seeing the full extent of depravity humans are capable of, Y/N’s used to feeling slightly nervous whenever she first goes out on a new hunt, unsure of what she’s about to face. This time though, something feels different. There’s a new chill in the air, one that goes throughout her entire body, all the way to the very tips of her fingers. She can feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, and she gulps. Something deep in her gut is telling her that this is going to be different from anything she’s ever faced before. Whoever or whatever this is… hopefully they can’t smell fear. As she steps closer into the graveyard, her hand brushes against the weapon strapped to her hip. Just in case. 
“Oh, they’ve sent a woman this time.” A voice echoes through the air. “How lovely. What a treat.” The noise makes her jump. It sounds different, less monstrous than the others. Somehow, it sounds more human. And that’s even more terrifying.
“Who goes there?” She orders, pointing her weapon in the direction of the voice. Different or not, she was sent here to do a job, and she made a promise it would be completed. 
“I must say, your reputation precedes you, my darling. Although, nobody told me how beautiful you are.” The voice sounds again, this time closer. Y/N spins around, the barrel of her weapon making contact with a figure’s chest. Now’s the perfect time to end this. Just one little pull of the trigger, and then it’s over.
However, when she makes eye contact with whoever is in front of her, Y/N suddenly finds herself unable to move. Stubble grazes his cheeks and chin, and his long brunette hair is swept back. He’s dressed in all black, his eyes a deep red. When he grins, Y/N notices his fangs glinting in the light. He couldn’t look more like a stereotypical vampire if he tried. 
“Wait. Is it real this time? …No, it can’t be. It’s never been real. It’s always just been a human.”
“See for yourself.” The man replies. He licks his upper lip, his tongue wrapping around each fang as they continue to glint in the moonlight. As he leans in closer, Y/N notices a few red dots staining his teeth. She gasps, and her heart almost stops. 
It is for real this time.
When he sees the expression on her face, the man scoffs. “Please, you’ve been in this business for years now, and you don’t know vampires can read minds? So much for being a feared vampire hunter.” He cocks his head to the side, looking over her again. “Cat got your tongue, hmm? Shame.” Without another word, Y/N holds out her weapon, pulling the trigger. Real or not, she’s here to do a job. A shot rings out, shattering the night air. The birds in the nearby trees fly away, startled by the sound.
And yet, nothing happens. There’s no scream of pain, no sound of a body falling to the ground. The figure in front of her is gone. Warily, Y/N steps forward, her eyes scanning the trees and graves around her, looking for the same figure she saw only moments ago.
“You know, I’m a little offended that you’ve barely said a word to me, yet you want to kill me. Can you not put the gun down for a few minutes so we can talk?” His voice speaks again. Y/N spins around, pointing her weapon in all directions, trying to find him. When there’s still no sign, she pants, keeping every sense on high alert for the slightest sound or movement. Anything that helps her find this bastard. 
Silence fills the air, broken only by the sound of Y/N’s heart pounding in her ears. “Boo.” A familiar voice whispers from behind her. Y/N jumps, every hair on her body standing up. Yet, a little part of her realises that she likes the sensation of his whisper against her skin. And that thought makes her stomach churn even more. “Poor little human.” The man sighs, beginning to circle her. His voice is like liquid honey, sweet and alluring. Y/N tries to back away, to run whilst she still can, but it feels like her feet are rooted to the floor. “In here with me. So lonely. So unsafe.” Y/N registers her heart beating even faster, pounding within her chest, so hard it almost breaks through her ribs. Then, he’s in front of her again. And once more, Y/N finds herself speechless. “You’re so beautiful. It’ll be a shame to kill you, you know?” 
He cups her cheek then, staring into her eyes, so deeply he could stare into her soul. Although his hand is as cold as ice, Y/N barely notices it, too busy staring at him. As his eyes trace over her, the man smiles… and Y/N realises that she’s shaking. This man is gorgeous. And although she knows it shouldn’t, the fact that he called her beautiful makes her stomach flutter ever so slightly.
“Y/N.” He murmurs. “What a beautiful name. I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.” He takes her hand, kissing it softly. Y/N can still hear her brain screaming at her, telling her to run, to blow the sick bastard away. But she doesn’t, transfixed by the man in front of her. It’s like he has her under some kind of a spell. His gaze moves lower. To her neck. He peppers kisses along it, and Y/N gasps. He’s definitely hit the right spot. “Yes….” Bucky trails off, his pupils dilating with hunger. “We’re going to have a lot of fun together.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Please follow @onceuponastory-library​ and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!
Also, I was wondering if you’d maybe wanna see more from these two? I haven’t fully decided if he kills reader, or if he keeps her alive and it turns into the Vampire x Hunter trope who still haven’t killed each other yet but are slowly starting to fall for one another.
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feral-nightingale · 5 months ago
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Chapter 1-1: An (un)Faithful Encounter
Prologue can be found here.
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"Hey voidsent!"
The hunter's voice echoed down the narrow back street of Ul'dah. Evangeline froze, thoughts moving at a million miles an hour. How could this have happened? I've been so careful and always checked to make sure I wasn't followed. Have I gotten sloppy? How much does he know? Is he alone? Who sent him?
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She turned to face her would be attacker with a smile and a dagger poorly concealed behind her back.
"Are-are you talking to me? Can I help you with something?" Fuck Eve what a stupid question. Of course he's talking to you! You're the only one here!
The hunter laughed bitterly then started stalking forward. His icy glare pierced through his golden mask with the eyes of an amused predator stalking easy prey.
"Listen," Eve said trying to keep her voice calm and even. "I don't know what you think you know about me, but you've got it all wrong. I'm not a voidsent I'm-"
"A likely story," the hunter cut her off. "You reek of the void. So either you're a void researcher who just made a visit to the void and got corrupted, or you're a voidsent. Either way I can't let someone like you remain alive."
"Tch. What narrow thinking," Eve spat. He's almost in striking range, I'll only get one shot at this.
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Eve sprang at the hunter and ripped his mask from his face. Luck was on her side, as the hunter was not expecting such an attack. She left the mask on the ground and sent a quick prayer to whatever god would listen this would buy her enough time to get away. Unfortunately, the gods were not listening if the rapid footsteps behind her were any indication.
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She didn't get very far before before she felt a tug on on her sleeve. "LET GO OF ME YOU CREEP!" She shrieked, but nobody was around to listen. He yanked at her, knocking her off balance and straight into the hunter's chest.
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And somebody got hurt.
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bookwormgamerweeb · 1 year ago
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Vampire Hunter D x Assassin Female Reader
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Chapter 2: Forest [Sfw]
Whoosh went the leaves as Y/N  jumped up from were she was laying,she surveyed her surroundings she was still in the forest.the man with the crazy hat nowhere to be seen, ''perfect'' she thought this will be an easy escape.
She broke out in a sprint, Y/N felt different she could feel that she was not alone. . .fear was building up on her until
Snap
And then she was falling, this doesn't make sense.She spent the few seconds of falling to think about what the hell is happening before landing flat on her face.
'Oh look she is finally awake, I thought she would have been dead after getting hit with that branch'' came a disembodied voice. Y/N lifts her head to see the man who took her, quickly jumping up and putting distance between her and the stranger.
''Who are you'' asked Y/N  trying to conceal her fear, ''D'' said the figure his voice not matching the one she heard while on the ground his was more deep and mysterious.
''What do you want'' Y/N  said getting agitated by the man calmness, ''nothing personal'' he replies. . . then starts walking no striding towards faster than any human, Y/N  quickly reaches for naginata but its not there ''shit''
The trees
In no time Y/N  found herself standing on one of the trees branches 'run' she thought, each leap she took she could hear him ganing up to then galloping, she looks behind her to see that horse ''how'' she thought.
But what she didn't know was that she was about to hit herself in face with another branch and again she landed on her face. Y/N sits up while d stops his creepy horse in front of her.
''So, you going to kill me or somethin''Y/N says trying to be as nonchalants as possible, ''lm just trying to do my job'' he says again with no emotion. ''And what is this job exactly'', ''We were sent by one of the human nobles to bring you to her alive and you are going to come with us'' again that disembodied voice.
''Why should i do that''y/n skeptaly ''we are both getting paid 20 000 dollars each'' d finally saying something
''That's a lot of money . . . . fine i'll come with you'' you say while walking towards the horse ''do you mind if i ride with you, we met each other on the very wrong foot'' he stretches out his left hand and before you could grab it you saw a face, probably where the disembodied voice came from ''Your more gorgeous in person'' its says hinting to something.
You make a face then grab the strangers fingers not wanting to touch the parasite,you sit behind him back to back.Then we started moving, she watched as she went deeper and deeper in the forest. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for reading i was a bit lazy when writing sooooo like for ch3
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hatsterical · 5 months ago
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Vampire and Human OC ?Duo?
I have lesbians. Please look at all the art I have of them that I can find or be bothered posting. (warning: cartoony blood follows)
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Chamomile (white haired) and Rain (Brunette)
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Rain standing
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!
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yeah
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Pose inspired by Karina Farek from drawfee
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This is just a redraw of Dale, walking dead, with my oc. I can't find the image I used as reference rn. It's walking dead.
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Chamomile as Centaur, Rain as Mermaid :}
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more centaur cham.
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being terrorised by clowns. (Pose by Prin-kon)
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Chamomile and only one canonical member of her family. (The robot guy is just another oc, Jasper, who looks similar. The large man is her dad, Silvas, aka Vaddy)
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some bs with cham idk bro.
WARNING WARNING WARNING BLOOD FOLLOWS GUYS. VAMPIRES FEASTING ON RAIN FOLLOWS GUYS, AND I'M NOT SPEAKING THE WEATHER. okay.
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It's a family meal, actually. Those are her sisters eating with Chamomile. No Rains were... that harmed, in the making of the piece above. Like she got care after dw. Anyway, that's all of them I can bother posting here. Thank you for visiting my lesbians!
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dewwinchester · 3 months ago
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next. | d.w.
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request: @rustic-guitar-notes: "can u write a little cutesy piece basically about reader and dean living a very normal life and leaving hunting?? like they have a whole house together and sam visits sometimes and it’s all just soft and NORMAL."
synopsis: this is written as a sequel to done, however, it can also be read as a standalone fic.
pairing: dean winchester x female!reader
word count: 2.6k+
warnings: fluff - she/her pronouns used - no use of 'y/n' - a smidge of angst if you squint - a surprise Sam appearance - Eileen mention! - pet names used (sweetheart)
a/n: this took me FOREVER i'm so sorry!! but I hope this makes up for it <3333 (also eileen is blurry wife confirmed by me)
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Why did cooking have to be so difficult?
The instructions stared up at you from your phone screen, mocking your efforts. You had no trouble following directions and were confident you had done everything perfectly. Yet, your kitchen was beginning to fill with smoke, and the burger patties on the stove—the patties you had spent hours putting together—were starting to fall apart and burn.
There was stuff everywhere. Herbs were all over the counter, white flour-handprints covered your shirt, and you were certain some of it was in your hair. Flecks of ground beef were on your tiled walls and floor (which, thankfully, your dog Miracle cleaned up right away). Salad ingredients littered your bench space, leaving you little to no room to move.
You were beginning to feel claustrophobic. This kitchen was a lot smaller than the one you were used to.
You were accustomed to the bunker, with its vast countertop space, where anything you needed was within arm's reach and easily spotted. Currently, what little kitchenware you had was hidden behind cabinet doors, and you were still getting used to the setup.
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you felt your heart rate begin to accelerate. You felt stupid. All you wanted to do was make a nice meal, and cooking was simply reading and following instructions—why couldn't you just do that?
Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, a shrill beeping rang through your house.
The smoke alarm.
Panicked, you fumbled to turn off the stove and wave away the smoke, desperately trying to silence the alarm before one of your nosy neighbours came knocking at the door. When the beeping finally stopped, you returned to the stove, sighing at the blackened mess that was left.
It didn't look too bad. You were sure that you could fix it simply by scraping off the burnt bits; no one would even know just how badly you messed everything up.
You decided to turn your attention to something that only an idiot could mess up—chopping. You were once quite skilled with a blade—a year ago you would have been using it for something entirely different, like chopping off the heads of vampires or other various creatures that went bump in the night. Today, however, you swapped a machete for a chef's knife. Most of your weapons were carefully packed away, with only a few small trinkets and books to remind you of your old life as a hunter.
You sliced lettuce, tomato, and cucumber, being sure to tuck your fingers away and allow the knife to rock against your knuckles, just like the professionals did on television.
You were so focused on perfecting your chopping technique that you barely noticed the sound of keys turning in the lock or the front door swinging open. The sound of footsteps behind you went unnoticed until you felt a hand on your shoulder.
Out of pure instinct, you spun around, knife gripped tightly in your hand as a surge of adrenaline washed over you. You raised the blade towards the potential assailant, holding it a breath's distance away from their neck, your knuckles turning white. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears and your breath hitched in your throat at the sudden movement. Your brain was telling you to strike, to move on the enemy before it was too late, but the gentle hand that curled around your wrist caused your defensive stance to falter.
“You gonna stab me, sweetheart?”
"Dean?" you breathed, immediately pulling the knife away from his throat. Your heart was still thundering away, but the buzz of energy in your system had subsided to a gentle hum. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Well, I thought I would come home early and surprise you," he said, taking the knife from your hand and placing it on the countertop. "I didn't think you were gonna Long-Kiss-Goodnight-me."
“I’m sorry,” you sighed, anxiety and embarrassment quickly replacing the adrenaline. “Old habits…”
Dean took you by the shoulder and pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. He placed a firm kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there. You melted into him and snaked your arms around his middle, feeling every worry melt away. He smelled like work: fuel, oil, and metal, and despite washing his hands copious times, there were still motor oil stains on his skin. Normally, the smell would have had you scrunching your nose up and ordering Dean into the shower, but for the first time, you couldn’t find yourself caring.
“How was work?” you asked, pulling back to look up at him. His hair was scruffy, the ends standing up in a hundred different directions. It was longer than Dean usually allowed it to get, but he told you he wanted to “experiment with the length” (you weren’t going to admit that the thought made you ever so slightly giddy).
"Pretty good," he replied, furrowing his brows for a moment as he wiped a patch of flour off your forehead with his thumb. "Some guy brought in an old Mustang. Got to—"
His eyes tore off you, looking towards the mess you left on the stove.
"What the hell—"
"Don't ask," you grumbled.
"What did you—what even—"
"I thought I said don't ask."
Dean picked the frypan up off the stove, inspecting the charred contents, and you felt like shrinking inside yourself. He looked over to the chopped ingredients on the counter before turning back to you.
"Dinner…?"
"I tried," you gave up. "I really did. I thought I would do something nice and surprise you, but apparently, I'm the world's worst cook."
Dean wasn't going to admit it, but you were right. You could make a mean bowl of cereal and a damn good cup of coffee, but when it came to toasting, baking, or frying, it usually ended with someone needing to get the fire extinguisher.
Your face fell into your hands—the tears were back, and you tried your best to hide them, but your shaky breaths immediately alerted Dean.
"Hey," he said with a light chuckle. He pulled you back towards him, one hand on your back, the other holding the back of your head. "It's all good."
"No it's not," you said, voice muffled by Dean's embrace. "I used to be good at something. Now I'm not good at anything."
"What d'you mean?"
"I used to be good at—at hunting. I used to wake up every day knowing exactly what to do and when. Now I can't even make a meal without messing up. At least you're good at something."
Dean nodded, fully understanding. It had been roughly six months since your last hunt, since you'd both hung up your hats and said goodbye to the life forever.
Surprisingly enough, Dean settled into your new life faster than you both had thought. He had gotten the mechanic job right off the bat and quickly fell into a routine. It was good for him. He had something to look forward to every day. He had new skills that he was able to put to use.
You, on the other hand, were finding things a little more difficult. You had no experience doing anything, making finding a job damn near impossible. You found yourself itching to check for the latest missing persons case or some kind of sign of the next apocalypse. You busied yourself by walking the dog, by cleaning the little house you rented in Kansas, by reading dozens of books.
Dean never pushed you. Instead, he let you adjust at your own pace.
Sure, there were still nights where one of you would wake up from a nightmare a sobbing, shaky mess, where visions of blood, death, and monsters flashed behind your eyelids. But you were always there for each other with comforting touches and words—you were each other's beacons of light when things began to grow dark again.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said, hands moving to your shoulders. “You are gonna head out, grab a pizza from down the street. I am gonna stay here and tidy up.”
“But—”
“Then,” he continued, “We’re gonna settle in for the night. Couch. Beer. Movie.”
“Fine,” you sighed, a smile creeping back onto your lips.
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Your car smelled like pizza as you pulled into the little cul-de-sac where your house was. Three boxes sat on your passenger seat, and you had to refrain from reaching over and snagging a piece before getting home. Dean would have your head if you started without him.
You passed several houses on your block that looked somewhat similar to your own before your little house came into view. It was smaller than the others, but it made up for it with a massive front and back yard. It had a brown roof, beige-yellow walls, and a wooden door. For most people, it wasn’t much to look at—many of the people who inspected it had turned their noses up and laughed at it.
It wasn’t much, but it was home.
Upon pulling into the driveway, you noticed another car parked on the side of the road up ahead. The sight of it brought a wide smile to your face.
Sam.
It had been days since you last saw him. After spending all day every day in the Winchesters’ pockets, you had felt strange not seeing Sam constantly. After everything, Sam had become one of your closest and dearest friends—he was like an older brother to you. He knew everything about you, and you knew everything about him. You could talk to each other freely without judgment—he just got you.
You quickly parked your car, grabbed the pizza boxes, and headed inside.
You could hear Sam and Dean before seeing them. After years of hunting, stakeouts, and sneaking around, you were surprised the brothers weren't a little more subtle. Six months ago, you would have assumed they were arguing about something, but as you approached the front door, you actually heard them laugh.
You pushed the door open and headed inside, immediately greeted by Miracle. He sniffed around your feet and tried his best to investigate the pizza boxes in your hand, his tail wagging profusely. Dean took the pizza boxes from your hands, shot you a wink, and took them into the kitchen. Miracle quickly turned his attention away from you and followed the smell of the pizza. Traitor.
"Hey, stranger," Sam said, standing at the end of the entryway, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.
You threw your keys on the small bench near the front door and practically ran over to Sam, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach him.
"This is a nice surprise! Long time no see," you said, pulling back to take a look at him. He looked well-rested—happy—and there was a glint in his eye that you couldn't quite put your finger on. "How's Eileen?"
"Good," he lowered his head, the look in his eye now spreading to the rest of his face. A smile crept across his lips, the kind that had your brows furrowing in interest. "Yeah, she's real good."
You made a mental note to ask about it later.
"Pizza's gettin' cold!" Dean called, which caused you and Sam to roll your eyes in unison.
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After indulging in five slices of pizza and three beers, you were completely stuffed. The boys had spent at least forty-five minutes arguing over which movie to watch, so the film—which should have ended by now—had only just started playing on your TV. You teetered on the edge of post-meal drowsiness, your eyes drooping. You fought hard against it; you wanted to stay awake and catch up with Sam, to hear more about how domestic life was finally treating him.
You felt content in your surroundings, and the knowledge that both your boys were here safe made you feel warm. The couch beneath you was soft, and with your head resting in Dean's lap, you felt even more comfortable. His thumb rubbed against your shoulder in small circles, and the rhythm of his touch eventually sent you off to sleep entirely. You had lost the fight.
“She asleep?” Sam asked in a whisper, gesturing with a nod towards you.
Dean shifted ever so slightly and cast his eyes down to you before nodding. "She wouldn't stop askin' me to invite you over. Thought the surprise would keep her buzzed for hours."
Sam chuckled, "Y'know, she can invite me over whenever she wants?"
"Man, if she had it her way, you'd never leave."
Sam smiled, and the two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, until his eyes grew concerned. He sat forward and grabbed the TV remote, turning down the volume until the film playing was barely audible.
"How's she doing?" he asked.
Dean shrugged, "Can't tell. Sometimes she seems okay. Then… I don't know…"
"What do you mean?"
"Came home today and found her in the kitchen. She was freaking out about dinner—"
"She's never been the best cook."
"I know," Dean said, "but she started tellin' me she wasn't good at anythin' anymore."
Sam's brows furrowed, "It'll take her some time to adjust. I mean, we aren’t exactly the best examples of settling into the real world."
“I keep tellin’ her that, but I don’t think she believes me.”
At that moment, Sam wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. He wanted to tell you about the several times he’d attempted a normal life and failed, how the hunting life had an iron-grip hold on him for years until he finally felt the time was right to cut free. But he decided to leave it for another time. You looked too peaceful.
But he knew that you would be fine. You always were. Aside from his brother, you were one of the strongest people Sam knew.
"How're things going with you and Eileen?" Dean asked. "Honeymoon phase over yet?"
A smile tugged on Sam's lips, "Yeah… I uh—I guess it kinda is."
"Dude, already? What did you do?"
"Nothing," Sam defended. "We've just found a routine. Settled in…"
"And…?"
Sam's hands swiped down his face as he sat back on the couch with a huff. His foot bounced against the floor, his eyes drifting from his brother to you and then back again.
"I wanted to tell you guys together."
Confusion flashed across Dean’s face as he sat up, careful not to jostle you around too much. “Wanted to tell us what?”
Sam let out a breath, “Eileen’s pregnant.”
Silence fell over the lounge room—the only sound being that of the soft dialogue coming from the television. The confusion on Dean’s face slowly morphed into shock, then confusion again, before a grin broke out.
“Are you serious?”
Sam nodded.
“You’re—you’re serious?”
Sam chuckled, nodding again.
There was something about it that Dean couldn’t believe. His brother—his baby brother—was having his own baby. It felt like just yesterday that he was picking him up from Stanford. The man next to him was no longer that college kid; he was starting his own family.
The thought made Dean look down at you. He wondered what it would be like to do all of that with you. Sure, the two of you had spoken about it here and there—marriage, family, the whole nine—but it never really went any further than that.
Dean’s brows furrowed as he looked up from you and back to his brother.
“She’s gonna kill you if she finds out she missed this.”
Sam laughed quietly, which caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle. “Well then, how ‘bout I stay the night? I’ll tell you guys in the morning… Just—try to act surprised. For our sake.”
“Deal.”
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thehauntedetheral · 3 months ago
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Yandere Vampire X Vampire Hunter Reader
Requests are open!
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• In the supernatural world where vampire rules. The king vampire has given specific regions to his close vampires to rule and maintain for him. Yan Vampire is the ruler of your region. But for some time he has been getting a lot anonymous threats to kill him and some accidents has happened too. But him being stubborn avoids taking precautions and says "I can handle this."
• His sister is worried for his safety as next week is the global meeting where every regional chief is present with their people and reporting updates about their region to other chiefs and the king.
• His sister is worried that the anonymous threat would take opportunity of the crowd and do some harm to yan so she comes with a plan to you a Vampire hunter without her brother's knowledge.
• She tells you her plan which is you a FUCKING VAMPIRE HUNTER to protect him. A VAMPIRE HUNTER WHO KILLS VAMPIRE AS THEIR PROFESSION IS ASKED TO PROTECT ONE???!!!
• "Are you insane?" You asked in disbelief after hearing her plan. "You know the meaning of vampire hunter, right?" You asked thinking she might be misunderstanding the term.
"I know what a vampire hunter is and what they do. Someone is trying to kill my brother and by the clues we are sure that it is a vampire who is trying to kill him." She says with a calm tone her blood red eyes looking at you. Her vampiric beauty glowing.
"You want me your brother who is also a vampire to protect him from some other Vampire at that global meeting sort thing of you vampires?" You said trying to make sense of everything.
"Yes. I will give you any amount you want. And protecting the regional chief of the region you live will give you many advantages till you die". The female Vampire said giving you a tempting offer which you can't refuse.
"But there is one problem. I have a solution for it too. But I am afraid you won't like the solution I came up with." She said with a slight disappointment over her face.
"What is it?"
"Well in the meeting only the regional chiefs and their family are allowed to attend. We have to make you pretend as the family member to attend with us. If they found out you are a Vampire hunter even I and my brother won't be able to protect you from the king."
You a single vampire hunter present in a room with thousands of vampire and a single mistake you would be dead in less than a millisecond just thinking about this caused you goosebumps. But it was now or never. You wanted that money.
"Okay. What family member do I have to pretend to be?"
"Well.... His human fiancee." The vampire said with hesitation.
"WHAT?!!"
"Well you are a human and we are vampires no way we can be family biologically so it only leaves to one option his fiancee just a fake one. After the work is done you are free to do whatever you want. And by being his fiancee you can be near him all the time protecting without any suspicious of others." The Vampire tried to explain.
"Okay. But I will take more money to pretend to be that old as fossils vampire's fiancee" You said with a deep frown.
"Just say the amount and it's your." The Vampire female and you shaked hands closing the deal. While Yan Vampire doesn't have a single idea what type of chaos his sister is going to bring in his life through you.
Get ready for being stuck with the grumpy Vampire protecting him from others while pretending to be his fake human fiancee. I hope I myself don't kill him in hatred. Wish me luck! You thought to yourself.
I am thinking about making this into a series. Should I make it? What do you think? Please let me know through comments.
Requests are open!
For more yandere reading:
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k0juki · 6 months ago
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I'm gonna write a vampire hunter!Lando Norris x vampire!reader fic asap. I think it could be perhaps enemies to lovers (or like close to it)? Slow burn and maybe a little series? Let me know if you would like it. You can leave a comment!
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fangswbenefits · 11 months ago
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The Arrangement (9) - The Arrangement
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Chapter summary: Ava proposes an arrangement, and things get out of control with Astarion... once again.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Alcohol. Innuendo. Body worship. (almost) Fingering. Sexual tension.
Word count: 6k
Series masterlist . Ao3
Ava extended the palm of her hand across the table, expecting you to comply with her silent request.
But you weren’t so easily swindled, especially when too much of her story was beginning to rub you the wrong way.
As such, you feigned complying by placing your hand atop hers, whilst your other carefully unsheathed the dagger at your hip.
Her face held a honeyed smile that you didn’t return, and your watchful eyes followed her every move, 
But before her knife could come close to your skin, you got on your feet, sending the chair sliding across the floor before you made a lunge for her, plucking her from her seat with one hand and pressing her back against the cabinet behind, your dagger firmly held against the side of her neck.
She did try to swing the knife in her hand, but you immediately caught hold of her wrist and squeezed tight until she dropped it on the floor.
“Sharp reflexes,” she noted with a curt smile.
You held her in place with the weight of your body, the sharp edge of your blade ready to slice through her skin.
“You sound surprised.”
She smiled again. “It is uncommon for sorcerers to be so skillful with anything but a staff and fancy hand flourishes.”
“Not many have the opportunity to learn from a seasoned rogue.”
Astarion had taken a liking to honing your dexterity, even when constantly remarking you’d never rival his.
However, in this particular moment, it did come in handy and his teachings had paid off.
“Unfortunately for you,” Ava said, her smile dropping slightly. “You are not the only one with tricks up their sleeve.”
And before you could question her remark, you felt the cool sting of metal tapping against your neck, just above the faint bite marks from the night before.
For a moment, the grip on your dagger faltered, but you quickly regained composure, not easing the blade pressed against her skin.
“This is coated in a most agonising poison.”
You offered a devious smile. “What a coincidence – so is mine.”
“Astarion’s?”
“Touché.” 
A homebrew recipe that he had once shared with you.
Travelling together with Astarion had given you the opportunity to broaden your skill set and that covered knowing how to brew most basic poisons.
She did look far too amused for someone who you could easily incapacitate should she stray but a little.
“And here I thought we had made some progress.”
Her taunt made you snap at once. “How much of an idiot do you take me for?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Idiot?”
You pushed harder into her, causing the glass jars inside the cabinet to rattle. “Your story sounds a little too convenient. You were a monster hunter for decades, then had a sudden change of heart, and tracked down Astarion to aid him,” your words were venomous enough to match the poison coating your blade. “I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing someone could just abandon their principles all at once and even go as far as to kill their own kin.”
Her arm was gripping yours, but you didn’t flinch, your eyes boring into hers. “You don’t have to believe me. I wouldn’t either, to be frank. However, you shouldn't be passing judgement when it comes to others having changes of heart.”
You remained silent.
“You took a leap of faith with Astarion, did you not? You trusted him even after learning he could easily turn on you,” she went on, her voice now firm and low. “But he didn’t. He proved he could change, even when it goes against his very nature as a vampire spawn.”
Another wave of anger flared inside you.
How could she even compare this situation to that of Astarion’s? She was nothing like him. She didn’t know the first thing about the two of you. 
“You utter sweetened words and use my bond with him to make me sway,” you said in a low warning tone. “But I simply don’t like you. It’s not even about you wanting my blood – it’s how you so easily take and take from him and expect me to compactuate with it.”
Ava scoffed, trying to push you off of her but to no avail. “So is that why you’re here? To stake your claim?”
" Claim? Astarion is his own person.”
She chuckled darkly. “Yet here you are, speaking on his behalf. Enlighten me on how that works.”
Her words tore through your flesh more effectively than the knife she held to your neck ever could.
You immediately let go of her as if suddenly burned by her touch and took a few steps back, falling silent.
Was that the impression you gave her? That you were taking away his free will on this matter? Would he think the same if he knew how close you had been to sinking your dagger into her?
Shame.
Guilt.
Your chest felt impossibly heavy from the weight of your doubts, and you dropped your arm at your side at once.
Ava adjusted her dress as she straightened up, but there was no triumphant smile on her face. “I am not the enemy. You don’t have to trust me – Hells, you don’t have to like me – but he does to an extent, and I already said that I do not take a single drop of his blood without his full consent, as I won’t take yours.”
It was starting to overwhelm you just how hard Ava was to decode. You wanted to trust her word and to believe that helping her with your own blood could be helpful to Astarion in the long run, especially if there were people out there who wanted to hurt both of you.
But you just couldn’t bring yourself to fully digest her reasoning without asking the proper questions and double checking.
You were once told: “Never swallow before chewing.”
“Why did you kill your group, then? Why not just leave?”
Ava’s pleasant features turned sour as she returned to her seat. “There are no fiercest shackles than those of the mind. I know it. Astarion knows it,” she said nonchalantly, placing her knife on the table. “Not that I expect you to resonate with this as I’m sure you’ve lived a sheltered life.”
You’re wrong…
On so many levels.
But you weren’t going to give her leverage on your past.
Not even Astarion was aware of the intricate details of your upbringing.
“Sorcerers are born with an innate talent for magic wielding,” she went on, her eyes fixed on you. “I wouldn’t be surprised if your family in Baldur’s Gate ranked up high with the rest of the nobles.”
You narrowed your eyes, lips still pressed shut.
It was unfair that she was drawing all these assumptions in regards to you when they couldn’t be further from the truth.
There had never been privilege. 
The magic coursing through your body was what made you nearly lose it all once…
But silence was your best weapon now.
“Not everyone has that privilege – I know I didn’t. I was forced to do the bidding of others, because that was all I knew growing up until Astarion’s case put things into perspective. Sure, I did expand my knowledge on Alchemy here and there, but I was never allowed to openly practice it,” there was a faint hint of sorrow in her voice that nearly made you feel sorry for her. Nearly. “So long as they lived, I would never be truly free as they would make sure I’d painfully regret leaving them. But I was done hunting those who could use a second chance, which was exactly what you offered Astarion.”
Her answer absolutely floored you. 
Your mind wanted her explanation to not make any sense.
You wanted a reason to hate her.
A reason to tear her bond with Astarion to smithereens.
Yet here she was, giving you seemingly truthful justifications to her deeds, which further troubled your heart and mind and completely defied your anger.
Eventually, you slid your dagger back in its holster with a long sigh. “Who’s after us?”
She crossed her legs. “I have my suspicions, but I need more time.
As much as you wanted to take her vague answer at face value, your common sense spoke louder this time.
“How can I be sure you’re not just feeding me some fable to cover up your own tracks?”
She chuckled almost in disbelief. “You truly are a tough one to crack, no doubt. I have a solid alibi, if that is what you’re requesting.”
“Go on.”
She paused briefly as if pondering her next words. “I was with a patriar.”
Hold on…
“Who?” you immediately shot back.
“Someone from the Parliament of Peers.”
Now, this piqued your interest. “ Who?”
“Rob Sorel.”
The wealthy baldurian merchant with an uncanny reputation for being ruthless when his interests were involved? The man whose wealth could easily overshadow that of a duke?
That seemed like a stretch.
A very unsettling stretch. 
You crossed your arms. “And what were you doing with such an influential patriar, especially so late at night?”
Ava gave you a long and hard look, lips tugged upwards, unveiling her amusement. 
Oh.
Oh.
“His influence reaches beyond Baldur’s Gate and I am able to gain exclusive access to wares that aid my research.”
You felt tempted to ask what the trade off was, but judging from the way her face twisted deviously, you could tell it probably revolved around carnal pleasure, which you refused to know the sordid details of.“Feel free to have Wyll cross-check this information as I’m sure Rob has mentioned my name.”
This nearly sent off alarm bells ringing in your head. “Wyll had never heard your name before I told him.”
She chuckled again, drumming her nails on the wooden surface of the table. “Oh, but he has . Ava is short for Avalar. I have had long dealings with Rob and he will uphold my alibi. Feel free to ask.”
Against your better judgement, you began to feel less… wary of her.
Not that you were able to fully let go of your gut feeling, but every answer was delivered with almost no hesitancy on her part and, truth be told, you would quickly be able to catch her if this involvement with a patriar was nothing but a desperate lie.
A sudden knock on the door made you jolt in place.
It was Wyll. “We ought to get going. Are you done?”
Your eyes remained fixed on her. “Yes. We're just going over some details.”
He didn't reply again and you saw Ava raise her eyebrows. “Details?”
You ignored her remark. “Will you try to track whoever is after us, then?”
“I will.”
You swallowed. “What's the price?”
She rose to her feet and took slow yet sure steps towards you until she was close enough for you to fully see the olive green colour of her eyes.
“Let's just say our interests are temporarily aligned.”
Bullshit.
“You wanted my blood.”
“I want your blood, yes. But I will settle with running a few more experiments after he's fed on you, if you accept this condition, that is.”
As far as you were concerned, you would rather she stopped meddling with anyone's blood, but Astarion seemed so confident in her promises…
Maybe there was a chance of success… maybe she could truly help with their hunger.
Maybe.
“Only after you tell Astarion about this discovery of yours in regards to his blood mixing with mine,” you said firmly. “Or I will.”
She nodded, offering a sweet smile.
“Don't think of this as payment, though. A mere transaction. An arrangement, if you will.”
You were starting to dread that term as of late. It was as if everything revolved around transactions and that it was the only way people knew how to properly function and establish relationships with others.
Slowly, you nodded and, for the second time that night, Ava extended her hand to you, only this time you took it in yours. 
A mysterious smile settled on her lips until you pulled her closer to you, lowering your voice, “I still don’t trust you.”
“I’d be disappointed if you did.”
You glared intensely into her eyes, hardening your face. “Any small step in the wrong direction, and you’ll hear from me.”
She nodded. “Deal.”
Then you gave her a firm shake before letting go and exiting her room without even looking back, as you were in dire need to distance yourself from the overwhelming events of tonight.
Wyll hurried to your side, glaring at you inquisitively. “So? What did you find out? Is she to be trusted?”
“Do you know a woman who goes by Avalar?”
He tapped his chin pensively for a moment. “Avalar? That name does sound familiar. Wait – she is Avalar? The merchant?”
You nodded as you made your way down the staircase, feeling the uncomfortable and draining presence of the mage slayer right behind you.
“She is connected to Rob Sorel, right?”
He hesitated at first, grabbing your arm and bringing you to an abrupt halt as you reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Lord Sorel isn’t one to trifle with idly. If she is indeed who she claims to be, then we must keep an eye on her.”
You felt a shiver run down your spine, already feeling that you might have given her the benefit of the doubt too quickly.
Wyll turned to one of the Fists by his side and gave him a silent command to which the man nodded and exited the tavern.
“She said she was with him on the night we were caught, and that Sorel will vouch for her.”
The commotion around the two of you from the rowdy and very much intoxicated crowd made it nearly impossible to hold a proper conversation.
“I will dig around,” he said with a raise of his voice, guiding you to the door.
But you yanked free from him, which earned a wary look from the other Fist.
“I need a drink. Please.”
The Fist spoke before he could, “My Lord, I don’t think we should linger any longer.”
You rolled your eyes and promptly made your way to the counter, squeezing past a few smelly individuals who grumbled in 
Bork appeared rather quickly in front of you, and you blinked twice.
“What can I get you, missy? ”
Wyll was by your side at lightning speed. “Are you sure you want to have a drink? Now?”
You never felt a particular interest in indulging in alcoholic beverages, but you craved it now more than ever.
“A pint, please.”
Bork’s lips parted into a devious smile and you tapped your fingers impatiently as he shifted to work on your request.
“You are not one to hold your liquor, if I remember correctly, my friend,” Wyll noted, already placing one gold piece on the counter. “Mayhap you ought to take a sip or two before we leave.”
He was absolutely correct, but you also needed a quick way to numb your restless mind. 
At worst you’d get a bit too intoxicated.
At best, you’d find a way to, hopefully, sleep through what was left of this night.
As Bork set the mug in front of you and eagerly collected his payment, you grabbed it with both hands and proceeded to down the sweet liquid.
In one go.
Wyll’s hand tried to ease your eagerness, but you slapped it away with a chuckle. 
“Why do I have the feeling I will have to carry you home after this?”
By the time you were through with the ale, you realised you had made a severe mistake.
If Wyll had not been there to steady your unbalanced feet, you would have certainly tripped on the nearby stool.
Fuck…
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By the time you made it back home, it was more than evident you should not have drunk all of it.
But it seemed that your brain was starting to morph a sense of guilt into finding anything within your grasp to be rather hilarious.
Even when you almost bumped into the mage slayer stationed outside your house.
You gave them a wide grin and a pat on the shoulder as if he couldn’t easily split you in half.
Wyll pushed the  door open and guided you inside with both hands gripping your shoulders for added support.
“Easy now. Mind the step.”
You completely disregarded his warning, which led to you almost losing balance if not for his strong arm that looped around yours, pulling you back.
You giggled.
He was truly a sweetheart.
Inside, you were met with the dim flickering of a few candles that provided enough brightness to spot the love of your life.
Wait.
Love of your life?
Scratch that. What a ridiculous overstatement. 
“What in the sweet Hells took you so long?” Astarion said with a scowl, rising from his chair and heading straight towards you like an arrow.
You giggled again, throwing your arms in the air. “You stayed up and waited for me!”
Astarion halted abruptly in front of you, hands on both hips. “I don’t sleep as I’m sure you’re aware. What is wrong with you?”
Wyll patted your back reassuringly. “She…drank a pint, and – well… this is the result.”
Suddenly, there were two Astarions standing next to each other and you yelped in shock, flinching back. 
“Why are there two of you?” you asked, pointing at them.
Both of them cocked an elegant eyebrow. “Two of what?”
Odd.
They moved and spoke in perfect unison. 
If one Astarion was already such a headache at times, you couldn’t even begin to fathom what two Astarions would be capable of. 
Driven by curiosity, you tried to reach out to one of them with your hand, but grasped nothing but air as your vision corrected itself and only one Astarion was left.
Really odd.
But entertaining.
He quickly gripped your gesticulating arm by the wrist. “Will you stop it? You’ll hurt yourself.”
The sudden proximity made your stomach turn dangerously, but you were far too amused to care. “ You’ll hurt yourself ,” you mimicked poorly, earning another scowl.
“I let you out of my sight for a few hours and this is the result,” he said with a sigh, then turning to Wyll. “Why would you let her drink a whole pint?”
Wyll rubbed the back of his neck. “She insisted, and I figured she could use the distraction.”
“What happened with Ava?” Astarion pressed.
Oh, Gods… not her again. “Will everyone please stop talking about her? Gods!”
He then pulled you closer to him, not letting go of your wrist, but easing his grip.
His beautiful eyes met yours and you felt yourself swoon, feeling the image of Ava dissipating into thin air.
Gods… he was the most beautiful man to ever grace this earth, no doubt.
Books should be written on his beauty and songs should be sung in his honour.
You felt yourself smile widely at him, feeling a rush of heat flood your face.
You’re so handsome…
His brows immediately furrowed.
Oh.
Shit.
You had said that aloud.
But you stood by it.
Astarion was so very handsome.
The only man who could make you yearn for him and have your heart and soul enamoured by all of him.
Then his face gradually softened. "Well, good thing there are no newshounds nearby. Can you imagine the headlines in tomorrow’s paper about the hero of Baldur’s Gate making a fool of themselves?”
You felt so giddy and drunk in his beauty that you just nodded at every word that spilled from those full lips that you wish you could just–
Whatever you say, handsome…
“Where’s Shadowheart?” you heard Wyll ask.
Astarion shrugged. “No one else is here, and it’s not as if I’m their mother.”
He was so snarky and it just made you almost melt under his touch.
“I can stay if need be.”
You rapidly turned to face Wyll, and immediately felt dizzy as Astarion steadied you. 
“Please stay! We can have a party!” you suggested with a dramatic pout.
Behind you, Astarion scoffed. “I’m quite sure dear Wyll is busy with his Duke duties, darling.”
Wyll chuckled. “I always make time for my friends.”
“Well, I can take it from here,” he retorted and you could spot a hint of disdain in his voice.
So attractive…
Astarion then lifted your arm and wiggled your wrist. “Say goodbye to Wyll, sweetheart.”
You giggled dramatically again. “Goodbye Wyll!”
He took a step forward and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back tomorrow once I have an update on what we discussed.”
Astarion pulled you away from him at once with a gasp. “Keeping secrets from me? Oh, you two lovebirds.”
Hold on!
No! You weren’t that close to Wyll.
As you were about to protest, Wyll spoke, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous, Astarion.”
“What is there to be jealous of, I wonder?”
You nodded vehemently, finding it utterly amusing how he sounded so territorial all of a sudden.
Adorable man.
Wyll gave a lighthearted chuckle before turning to leave. “Well, I’m sure I can think of a few reasons.”
You laughed way too loudly at his remark, which caused Astarion to click his tongue in annoyance.
Adorable.
The door closed shut behind him, and Astarion immediately spun you on your feet to fully face them.
“What were you thinking? Drinking a pint?”
You couldn’t care less about what he had to say in this moment, and simply glared at his face, your hazy mind reminding you just how much you adored him.
And before you could restrain yourself, the words tumbled from your mouth. “I… I really like you.”
Idiot.
A deafening silence settled around you, and you began to feel an increasing wave of nausea as he merely glared at you.
Then you giggled, trying to disperse the awkwardness as fast as possible.
He didn’t laugh with you, tugging at your hand instead. “I think it’s time to get some sleep, darling.”
Too bad you were clearly incapable of walking in a straight line, which earned his attention. Without a warning, you felt your balance shift rapidly as he scooped you in his arms, effortlessly carrying you along the dim corridor.
“Put me down! Astarion!”
Instinctively, you looped your arms around his neck for support, but still trying to wriggle out of his fierce hold.
“I don’t need to be carried… please put me down,” you whined. “I - I will curse you!”
An amused smile tugged at his lips. “How very ferocious of you. I suppose we should have gotten you drunk more often back then. I’m sure our foes would have fled in horror at the sight of you.”
You slumped into him with a pout. “Mean.”
He pushed the door to your room open with a nudge from his shoulder, before easing you back on your two feet again.
The room was plunged in darkness and you felt him shift away from you, setting alight a single candle next to your bed, and you blinked a few times to adjust to the clarity.
You were now entering the less amusing stage of your insobriety and you could feel yourself scowl at him, clumsily crossing your arms.
“I should have hexed you.”
“Darling, the only thing you’ll be hexing in that state is a doorknob.”
You snorted at his playful jab. “I was perfectly capable of walking!”
“Into a wall? Yes, indeed.”
He then moved back to your side, helping you out of your cloak and quickly wrapping a blanket around you.
The simple gesture was enough to melt your defiant demeanour at once.
The two of you stood there in silence, eyes locked and you found yourself wishing he’d kiss you, but you knew he never would.
Astarion valued consent above all else, and he would not cross any lines. Each time you had gotten ahead of yourself in terms of sobriety, he always reigned you in.
And that was just one of the many things you adored about him.
How safe he made you feel and how you knew he’d never take advantage of your vulnerability. 
“You need to properly rest,” he urged, ensuring the thick fabric around you was tucked properly in place.
Just as you were about to head to bed, you felt the room tilt to the left and you yelped, clutching onto him for support.
“I’m going to fall!” 
The walls around you began to swirl and sway and your own legs wobbled.
A genuine laughter rumbled across his chest as he patted your back. “You silly little goose. Your warped mind is playing tricks on you.”
That term of endearment caught you slightly off guard and your heart fluttered.
Gods…
Why was he so easy to love?
Or was this the alcohol talking? Were you truly so far gone, that the alcohol was merely making it easier to surface your feelings?
Either way, you wouldn’t voice them, and allowed him to guide you to your bed, helping you to slip under the bedsheets. 
It felt rather good being taken care of this way. 
Maybe he didn’t think of this as anything but a nuisance, but you were grateful, nonetheless. 
“Thank you…” you mumbled in a whisper, gripping his hand.
The ceiling was now begging to spin dangerously fast and you had to close your eyes to help with the overwhelming sensory overload. 
He didn’t reply back, but you felt him tugging his hand away from your grasp.
A sudden shiver of panic coursed through your body. “Please stay? You always leave…”
Please…
He relaxed his cool hand against yours.
Slowly, you peeled back an eyelid only to see him easing onto the spot next to you over the covers.
You turned on your side to glare at him and he mimicked you, meeting your eyes in silence.
“How do you feel?”
In love.
“Well…”
He nodded and you smiled warmly at him, probably looking rather silly, but too mesmerised by his face to even look away.
“May I touch you?” you asked hesitantly.
He arched his brow, but nodded.
You lifted your hand and with a single finger, you began to slowly trace the bridge of his nose, admiring how he didn’t just look perfect…
He felt perfect…
“You’re so beautiful…” you sighed, feeling the slight bump of his nose as you trailed down to his lips. “So… so beautiful.”
He chuckled deviously. “I’m all for praise, darling… do go on.”
And you wanted to, but you were beginning to feel lightheaded, and your hand dropped from his face and your eyes dropped close.
“Or not…” you heard him say.
His voice seemed so distant now as drowsiness enveloped your senses. A part of you wished you could trace all of his face with the pad of your finger, worshipping every inch of him.
“Please, don’t leave…” you found yourself repeating.
He clicked his tongue. “I will if you vomit on me.”
You giggled, managing to shift closer to his body and rest your head on his still chest. “Deal, handsome…”
Your heated body welcomed his coldness, and it didn’t take long for your busy mind to progressively quiet down as you drifted off into a pleasant sleep.
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It was the soft click of a door being shut that roused you from your sleep. With eyes still closed, you flipped onto your back with a pained groan as your body was hit with the aftermath of last night.
“Rise and shine,” Astarion’s honeyed voice filled the room.
You stretched yourself with a yawn, feeling your mouth dry as sawdust and an overwhelming thirst that nearly made you sob.
“I’m never drinking again…” you whined pitifully. 
The mattress dipped slightly next to you. “Well, how do you feel today?”
“Like death…”
“Your breath definitely reeks of it,” he said, voice dripping with disapproval. “I drew you a bath, as I anticipated you’d need one.”
At this, your eyes flew open. “Is this your chivalrous way of telling me I stink?” you grumbled, trying to make sense of your surroundings. 
The curtains were no longer drawn and the faint light bleeding from the top and bottom was enough to tell you the sun had already risen. 
He took your hand in his, tugging gently until you were sitting in front of him with your legs crossed. “Darling, you’re free to bask in that dreadful stench for all I care.”
You shot him a serious glare before bursting into laughter. “Good point. I need to get off these clothes…”
Astarion helped you on your feet and you carefully paced across the wooden floor and into the washroom.
A pleasant smell hit you as you stepped inside, with him following closely behind.
“I borrowed a few bath salts from Gale,” he informed, pointing to the round tub in the middle of the room, almost filled to the brim with steamy water. 
You glared at him in disbelief. “Borrowed as in… stolen?”
He shrugged.
You knew him too well.
“He does have a decent selection, yet manages to always carry the most interesting smells around,” he said, bringing you over to the large basin under a round mirror. “I minced peppermint and it should help with your breath,” he added, handing you a glass of water.
You did as he advised and took a gulp, rinsing your mouth eagerly before spitting the content onto the basin.
“So… are you going to tell me how the conversation with Ava went?”
Wiping your lips clean with a rag, you gave him a look.
“It could have gone worse, I suppose.”
“Charming,” he said. “Worse as in ‘I almost killed her’ or ‘She made me want to pluck my eyes out’?”
“All of the above, maybe,” you said with a roll of your eyes.
To be fair, after hearing her reasoning, she didn’t come across as that bad. But you couldn’t help but to still feel wary of her intentions in the long run.
Astarion was studying your face intensely as you emptied the glass of water to quench your thirst, the minty aftertaste doing wonders to your throat.
“Anything in particular I should know about?”
Besides her wanting to take my blood? Nothing at all, you thought grimly.
You merely shook your head.
“I’ll be waiting outside, then.”
Right.
Bath time.
You took a quick look in the mirror and nearly groaned out loud from the sight of your weary face.
Just as you were trying to strip the shirt you had on, you huffed in annoyance, which earned his attention before he slipped out of the washroom.
“You need help.”
You tried to pull the sleeve, but your body ached too much to comply. “I need help.”
Astarion slowly crossed the room again, and swiftly helped you out of your shirt.
You hissed as his cold knuckles brushed against your bare stomach. “Cold, cold…” you said, teeth jittering.
Being naked in front o fhim had long lost some of its inherent sexual meaning. It used to make you feel too exposed and only when the two of you were about to indulge in one another.
Now, it felt like something casual.
His stare didn’t linger on your breasts for too long or on your now hardening nipples.
“I apologise,” he said with a smile. “Let’s get you out of these next.”
Skilled fingers worked on the front of your trousers, undoing them slowly before carefully dropping on one knee and pulling them down along your thighs.
You had to look away to hide the rush of heat that had settled on your face.
Now that felt too intimate…
He tugged at your underwear next and shiveres began to prickle along your body.
You suddenly felt too exposed. 
Astarion had seen you this bare since you last slept together before reaching Moonrise Towers.
And this new predicament had your heart strumming hard in your chest.
You slipped out of your trousers and looked down to meet his crimson eyes. “What?”
“May I kiss you?”
You swallowed. Hard. “Where?”
He leaned in to press his cold lips to the dip of your hip, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away and rising to his full height again.
Gods…
“Do you need my help getting inside?” he asked and you could see it .
You could see the lust in his eyes.
You could hear the faint innuendo in his words.
And you could feel the familiar throb between your legs increasing.
“Yes…”
He promptly gripped your hand and you lifted each leg to dip into the nicely heated water, its surface covered in frothy suds. 
Slowly, you lowered yourself into a sitting position before leaning back.
Astarion placed a folded towel under your neck, so you could easily relax against the wooden tub as you sank below the waterline.  
“May I wash you?” he asked, settling himself on his knees behind you.
You immediately nodded, gripping the edges and trying your best to ignore the swell in between your folds.
It was almost embarrassing how easily he could turn you on with mostly his words and intonation. 
Your eyes fluttered shut and you jolted briefly when you felt a soft sponge being dragged from your neck and down your breasts.
A sigh parted your lips and you arched your back instinctively, just enough to raise your nipples above the waterline as he grazed each of them in circular motions.
You instantly clenched around nothing, knowing fully well that it would have driven him insane had his cock been buried inside you.
A second moan was heard when he started planting soft kisses along your jaw while his hand kept on gliding the sponge down your abdomen.
“Does that feel good?” he whispered in between kisses.
Your legs parted as you welcomed his ministrations. 
With his other hand he gripped your jaw and applied enough pressure until the back of your head hit his chest, his thumb caressingly you lovingly.
A strained whimper erupted from you when the sponge reached your folds, deliciously caressing the growing swell in between.
Your hips rolled a few times to increase the friction and you begged the Gods above to have him use his fingers instead…
“Please… Astarion…”
He planted a lingering kiss on your lips, pressing the sponge against you so you could grind desperately on it.
“Does it feel good, darling?”
“Use your fingers… please…” you begged against his lips, squeezing your legs together to trap his hand as you gripped the edges of the tub for support.
He chuckled darkly, dropping the sponge and he had to cover your mouth with his other hand to muffle a loud moan as he slid one finger along your folds.
“Do you remember how many you could take?”
Your eyes rolled shut as lust clouded your senses, hips rolling at a faster pace.
All you remembered was struggling to fit his cock inside at first…
The pad of his finger teased your swell a few times before he moved to place it at your entrance.
“Answer me.”
You could cry from the despair alone as he refused to slide a single one inside.
“I - I… two? Astarion… please… ”
He chuckled teasingly in response, and you 
The door to the washroom burst open, causing him to detach from you at once.
Shadowheart.
You let out a yelp, sinking until you were neck-deep in water.
“Ever heard of knocking?” Astarion’s words were dripping with poison.
“Even heard of not greeting people with... that?”
From this position you were almost at eye-level with his lower half, giving you a privileged view of his rather generous bulge, strained against his own trousers.
You felt heat flare in your cheeks as you remembered just how easily he would drip precum for you.
She hurriedly crossed the room and threw a robe at you. “Dress up. Quickly .”
Lust quickly turned into panic from the way Shadowheart glared worriedly at you.
“What happened?”
“Gale is leaving,” she said. “We just received word from Waterdeep that his contact has been killed.”
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TBC
1K notes · View notes
thebiggerbear · 10 months ago
Text
"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - Dean Winchester Prompt Response
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Summary: When Sam calls to tell you that Dean is gone, you can't accept it. Not until you visit the offline Bunker and see for yourself. ...But is he really gone?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader
A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I had this idea for a scene in my head that took place during 15x20 with the reader and Sam & then from there it just kind of wrote itself, including the semi-twist. Hope it's okay.
There is a song mentioned in here ("Is This Love" by Whitesnake) which is a sort of homage/dedication/thank you. I read this Dean x Reader fic a long time ago (I can't remember the name of the fic or the author right now, I'm sorry!) but they used the song for some Dean/Reader time in the Impala and I had never heard the song before so I checked it out. I have become obsessed with it. It's so perfect, not only for Dean but in general as an 80s love rock ballad. So thank you to that author whoever you are!
This is meant to take place between mid-15x20 and Dean's foray in The Winchesters (pre-series).
Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.
Warnings: angst; mentions of character death; mentions of implied sex
Word Count: 12k+
Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel
Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith
Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx
"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."
Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Tom version ✨ Jason version ✨ Anael version ✨ SDV Alex version
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You sat on the corner of the bed in your motel room, numb, your phone next to you, having been forgotten long ago. 
It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t. You refused to believe it. How was Dean just gone? On a simple hunt? How?
Sam had called you to give you the news. You could hear the breaks in his voice as he relayed what happened, sounding as if he had been crying just a few minutes before. Vampires. Who were mute. A gang of them run by a vampire named Jenny they had faced off with years ago. On a hunt with John. She had gotten away and they thought she was gone for good. Apparently not.
You were frozen, in shock, unable to process what he was telling you. 
“Y/N?”
“I… I need to see him,” you whispered.
Sam was quiet for a moment before he forced out, “I gave him a hunter’s funeral.”
You shut your eyes in pain. “What?” You could feel your throat tightening as well as your chest.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I had to. I couldn’t…” You heard him take a breath. “I couldn’t make the long drive with… I just couldn’t.” You could hear those breaks again and you should have been hurting for him, that not only did he have to watch his brother die but he’d had to burn him alone. But right then you got angry and you couldn’t help snapping at him.
“Why would you burn his body, Sam? You know we need his body to bring him back!”
“Y/N, he didn’t want to be brought back.”
“You don’t know that!”
“Yeah, I do. He told me right before he died. As long as I was going to be okay,” Another break. “He was done.”
A tear rolled down your cheek and regret immediately consumed you. You knew Sam was telling you the truth. Dean making sure Sam would be okay as he was dying clinched it for you. Sam had always been his main concern. You started mentally berating yourself then. If only you hadn’t let fear stop you, you could have given him something to live for, to fight for. He would have let Sam call for help, call Jack, something. He would have made sure he somehow made it home, just like he always did. But you didn’t and now, he was gone. Truly and irrevocably gone.
Another tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “I have to go, Sam.”
“Y/N, I—”
You ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. You weren’t trying to be heartless. Sam was obviously struggling and you should be there for him. That’s what Dean would want, you knew that. The two of you being there for each other, helping one another, you looking after his little brother while he looked out for you. But you just…couldn’t.
Why hadn’t you called Dean? After everything that went down with Chuck and Jack? Why hadn’t you reached out? You owed him that at the very least. So why hadn’t you?
You knew the answer to that. You were scared and like a coward, you’d told yourself it wouldn’t have made a difference. It wouldn’t have changed anything. But a part of you knew it would and that scared you just as much.
You thought back to the last time you’d seen him, right after he and Sam went to try to get Amara on board against Chuck. He was still reeling with the news that Cas had told him before he’d left, that Jack was going to sacrifice himself to kill Chuck. He cared about Jack, more than he let on, even though the kid had accidentally killed Mary. Jack was family to him and he was having a serious moment of doubt. If Jack’s plan would work; if he should let it happen; if he should tell Sam; if Chuck hadn’t been right, he would win in the end. He was so beyond tired of that: Chuck winning. He didn’t want to sacrifice Jack but if they could be free of Chuck and have a chance… 
He was torn up about it and he’d called you, asked you where you were, then begged you to come to the Bunker when he found out you were only an hour or so away. You hadn’t wanted to, you could hear the desperation in his voice and you knew all too well what would happen if you went. You were still hurting and you didn’t know if you could survive that. 
You didn’t bother telling him that the reason you were an hour outside of town was because you’d temporarily settled there, not sure where to go or what to do. Sure, you took on hunts here and there, but ultimately you were lost. Ever since Dean broke things off with you because he couldn’t tell what was real anymore versus what had been Chuck all along. The breakup had hurt, of course, but that caused pain in you that you weren’t really sure you would ever come back from. Him thinking everything between you might not be real? After you’d given him everything you could because you deeply loved him? In your heart, you knew it was real, but when you had said this to him, he’d simply responded with “I don’t” in his typical detached way he adopted whenever he had made up his mind that he had to do something for the greater good, no matter how hard it might be. You thought he had already broken your heart, but it shattered right then in your chest.
Since it was Dean, though, and he never begged, you went. And sure enough, what you worried would happen, happened. One minute, you’d been wiping the rare tears he let fall around you, and the next minute, he was kissing you and gently pushing you back onto his bed. You could feel the desperation in his movements, his touches, the way his lips trailed over your skin. Shockingly, he took his time with you, and it only hit you halfway through that this was his real goodbye. It wasn’t guaranteed that Billie’s plan would work but he hoped it would. And if it did, then that meant he and Sam would finally be free and they could hang it up if they wanted to, do something else with their lives and move on. And that possible future didn’t include you. 
You’d silently cried then, holding onto Dean as he moved and moaned into your ear. When he pulled back to kiss you, your cheeks were free of any tear tracks and you kissed him back. You wondered how on earth he couldn’t feel that this was very real between you as you moved your hips to meet his in a tender rhythm as he held you in his lap, his green eyes staring into yours as he held you close. Sex was sex but this right here, this right in between you right then that he refused to put a name to, it was beyond real. You knew he could feel it just as much as you could…so why was he still hellbent on throwing it (and you) away?
A little while later, you had laid there, with his head on your chest, running your fingers through his hair in soothing strokes, his body still entangled with yours, staring up at the ceiling as you both were still trying to catch your breath. Your heart spoke for you before you could stop it. “I love you,” you whispered, meaning it with every fiber of your being.
It shocked the hell out of you and made something warm and fluttery happen inside your chest when he sleepily murmured to your skin, “Love y’too. Don’go.” You ended up chalking it up to him being in a post-sex sleep daze though, not knowing what he was really saying or even really having heard you correctly. That or he only meant for the night because the very next morning, things went back to how they were.
Dean seemed surprised when he woke up to find you next to him, scrolling through the news feed on your phone for any new cases. You’d given him a warm smile. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you teased.
Instead of smiling back, though, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hey.” You could see that familiar detached expression settle on his features and you knew he was regretting the night before. He had been drinking by the time you got there, sure, but he hadn’t been inebriated. He was incredibly lucid by the time he made a move on you so try as he might, this couldn’t be chalked up to a drunken mistake.
You could literally feel that wall going back up and you gave one last ditch effort to keep him from shutting you back out, even laying a hand over his. “Dean, don’t—”
He pulled away from you and got out of bed, quickly slipping on his Scooby Doo boxers and jeans that he grabbed from the floor. You might have smiled seeing the familiar underwear that you hated but secretly loved if you weren’t hurting so much. “I’m hungry. You hungry?” He asked, slipping a black t-shirt over his head. “I’ll go see if Sam’s cooking anything up. I need a serious cup of coffee. You just…” He glanced back at you, seeing you holding the sheet tightly to your chest as you watched him, compulsively swallowing when he saw your eyes glistening. “You, uh, just come out when you’re ready.” He then made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him and never looking back. 
You sat back against the headboard, dissolving into a fit of tears and quiet sobs. You knew you should have never come. Once you were able to breathe without fresh tears welling up, you got yourself cleaned up and redressed. You splashed some water on your face and you took a deep breath before leaving the room. You were near the bunker stairs when Sam called out to you.
“Hey! Y/N!” 
He was coming over to you, a big smile on his face. He was pleased to see you.
“Hey,” you greeted back just as warmly, forcing a smile.
He gave you a quick hug and you could see Jack a little ways behind him, giving you a smile and wave. “I didn’t know you were here. We were just about to have breakfast. Why don’t you join us?”       
“Oh, I…”
You were saved from having to make an excuse when Dean appeared next to Jack, his expression severe and cold all at the same time. “She’s got a hunt she’s heading out for. Possible vamp nest in Duluth. Right, Y/N?”
Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you even more, there he went proving you wrong. “Right,” you agreed quietly. You turned a wan smile onto Sam. “I’ll take a raincheck.”
“Duluth?” Sam glanced from his brother to you. “Maybe we can give you a hand on this one.”
“We can’t,” Dean stated firmly. He gave his brother a look and Sam’s brows furrowed before realization played upon his features and his jaw tightened. He turned apologetic hazel eyes onto you. “Donna’s up that way. If she needs a hand, she can call her,” Dean added.
You felt sick to your stomach. Obviously, you weren’t heading to Duluth or anywhere near Minnesota but the way he dismissed you so casually…the pain was overwhelming. The smile you kept on Sam turned into more of a grimace. “I appreciate the offer, Sam, but I’m good. Like your brother said, I can call Donna if I need anything. Don’t worry. Thanks, though.” You squeezed his arm and then turned to make your way up the stairs.
“Best of luck,” Dean gruffed out. You turned to see pure ice staring back at you. 
You pressed your lips together to keep from falling apart right there, from demanding why Dean had obviously only called you for sex and a pick-me-up when there plenty of women in Lebanon that could do that for him, from begging him to wake up and see you were right in front of him and that what you had was very much real before it was too late. Instead, you continued climbing the stairs. 
“Keep us updated and give us a call if you need anything,” Sam called after you.
“Will do,” you forced out.
“Good luck,” Jack offered.
When you reached the top, you glanced once more at Dean. His expression hadn’t changed one bit. The green gaze staring back at you was cold, hard. You let out a huff and shook your head, turning to open the door and close it behind you. That had been the very last time you saw him.
After that, you went back to the motel you had been renting a room in, packed up, and headed across state lines. You ignored Dean’s calls but took Sam’s. 
Apparently, at some point, you had vanished when Chuck disappeared everyone. You had no idea until Donna filled you in. That explained the several missed calls from both Sam and Dean and the voicemails they left. Both had sounded desperate, especially Dean. 
“Please, Y/N. I know you’re pissed at me and I get it but please call me back. Or call Sam. I don’t care. Just as long as we know you’re still with us and that you’re okay.” His tone sounded rough around the edges but considering the context Sam gave you when you did call him (there was no way you were calling Dean, especially not now), you realized they were just desperate to get in touch with anyone, having lost Cas and being the only three forms of life left on the planet.
Dean was right, you were angry. Angry that he’d used you that night, angry that he’d broken your heart in the first place. He had pursued you before you got together, not the other way around. By the time you let your guard down enough to let him in and things kicked off between you, he was deep in. Or so he’d said. By the time he ended things, you were deep in yourself. Now…now you were in even deeper thanks to him, so deep you were pretty sure Dean would haunt you the rest of your life no matter how you tried to shut him out of your heart.
Another tear rolled down your cheek. Though, you’d never meant the word haunt literally.
You wiped your face with your sleeve and let out an aggravated breath before getting to your feet. You grabbed your coat, your emergency bag, your hunting bag, and the car keys from the table near the door. You locked up and got into the car you only used for hunts and grocery trips now, starting it and backing out of the driveway. 
It’s not that you doubted what Sam had told you or Sam himself, but you needed to see things for yourself. You turned the car in the direction that would lead you to Kansas.
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You opened the door to the Bunker, seeing nothing but darkness greeting you, the clanking of the door being the only sound to echo in the large chamber. That was strange. They never shut it down when they left for hunts. You hit the lights and hearing a loud thrumming sound, you watched as they came back on, one by one. You had your own key since you were also a Legacy. You’d never been more thankful for that fact when you arrived to find the Bunker locked down, no Sam in sight.
You shut the door behind you and dropped your bags near the table. You bit your lip to keep your eyes from welling up when you noticed an unfinished chess game on the table, most likely one that Dean and Cas had been engaged in, but now neither of them would be back to complete it. Instead, you focused on the matter at hand. You pulled your gun out and an angel blade, slipping the latter into your coat pocket in case you needed it. In the other pocket, you slipped a flask of holy water and a small piece of iron bar you could wield if need be. In your gun sat silver bullets; you couldn’t be too careful nowadays. Especially if the word was out to the world of the supernatural that Dean Winchester was gone and only Sam was left now, alone. 
You slowly made your way down the stairs, listening intently for any other noises you might hear. All that you could make out besides your footsteps was the low hum of electricity that was commonplace for the old bunker. You cleared the library, the hallways, the kitchen, the shower room, the infirmary, the Dean Cave where you’d been forced to watch The Lost Boys and slasher films more times than you cared to count (you had dug your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying when you saw the DVD cover of Tombstone left near the TV), every single room in the place until you came to the one that made a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it back down and forced yourself to focus, raising your gun that much higher. You opened the door and hit the lights, scanning every which way. The room was clear.
You lowered your gun and made your way inside, the lump in your throat back again. Your eyes roamed over the hastily made bed; the empty dog bowls on the floor (which made your brows furrow in confusion slightly); the messy desk; the empty beer bottles on the table; the headphones on the nightstand; the shotguns on the wall; the books scattered about; the load of laundry sitting off to the right in a corner. Memories washed over you and your eyes began to sting as tears welled up. 
You’d walked into the room to find Dean jamming out on his bed, listening to music through the headphones he’d insisted on buying on your last trip. You huffed out a laugh and dropped the laundry basket of folded clothes onto the bed, garnering his attention. 
He opened his eyes and glanced up to find you smiling at him. 
“What are you listening to?”
He held one of the phones away from his ear and you could hear some serious strumming of heavy metal guitar coming out of it. “Huh?”
“I said, what are you listening to?” You asked a little louder.
“What?” He nearly yelled.
You picked up the top item from your pile, his Scooby Doo underthings, and playfully tossed it at him. It landed squarely on his chest and he immediately jumped up as if it had burned him, his cheeks turning redder by the second as he threw the headphones onto the bed.
“You did my laundry?” He asked in horror.
Amazing. You two had explored every single inch of each other time and time again, been sort of rooming together for the past month, but he was embarrassed that you washed his dirty underwear?
You shrugged and began to place his folded clothes on the bed. “I had room in the washer so I figured I’d grab yours, too. You’re welcome.”
“You washed our clothes together?” He sounded genuinely surprised.
You gasped and gave him a mock look of horror. “Oh no, not together.” You tossed a pair of jeans over at him and he caught it in time. “I used detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets, and everything,” you teased. “But putting it away is where I draw the line, pal. That’s on you.” You pointed to the neat pile sitting on the bed before moving over to the door to head to the room you kept your things in down the hall. 
Arms wrapped around you from behind, stopping your trek, and Dean murmured into your ear, “You washed my clothes for me?”
“And folded, too,” you pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”
“Mmm, what else can I get you to do for me?” He grabbed the basket from you and placed it down before gripping your hips and moving in to kiss your neck.
“Hey, I’m not your maid. I had room in the washer, that was it. Don’t get used to this,” you laughed before digging your teeth into your lip when you felt his tongue on a particular part of your skin. 
“What if I want to get used to this?” He moved up to your jaw line.
“I’d say you’re SOL. Unless…”
“Unless?” He hummed near your lips.
“Unless you finally let me tidy up this room a little.”
His head shot up, frowning down at you. “What? Why, what’s wrong with how it is now?”
“Well,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Some of these papers on the desk need organizing, the books can be put in a stack on the table over there, these empty beer bottles can be thrown out, the shotguns you have near the bed can be put away…”
“There’s nothing wrong with anything you just mentioned,” he grumbled.
“Oh, really? So the other night when you were doing that thing—”
“That thing you really like,” he interrupted, smirking cockily at you.
You had to keep from rolling your eyes and smirking yourself. “When I moved, I knocked into the shotgun and it fell. It almost went off. You remember that?”
“Nothing happened or went off, well, except you.” His smirk got even bigger. “You remember that?”
This time you gently swatted at his shoulder. “Dean.”
He heard the warning in your no-nonsense tone and laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “Alright,” he whispered to your lips. “I’ll put the shotguns up out of the way. But everything else stays.”
You huffed out an exasperated breath. One of these days when he wasn’t looking, you swore you’d do as exactly as you’d suggested. Clear out the empty bottles and stack the books at the very least. 
“Hey, it’s all about compromise, right? Speaking of that,” He turned you around in his arms and you were once again facing the laundry basket he’d left on the floor. “Find a space and keep some of ‘em in here.”
A pleasant shock ran through you. “Are you sure?” You whispered.
He slowly turned you back around and gently cupped your chin. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure. You’re practically sleeping in here every night, anyway. I’d rather you not have to put back on the same clothes from the night before or walk naked down to your room. Then again, naked…”
You glared up at him, making him chuckle and brush his lips against yours. “I just didn’t want to crowd you,” you admitted after a moment. “It’s your space. If I’m in here too much, I can—”
 “I want you here.” You gazed into his green eyes, unsure, but all you saw staring back at you was softness with a glint of earnestness. He was telling you the truth; he really wanted you to stay. 
“Okay,” you agreed with a shy smile.
He beamed at you and then picked you up, making you gasp loudly and wrap your legs around his waist. “Not that you’re gonna be needing them right now.”
You shook your head and kissed him as he walked you both towards the bed. When he had you on it, you could hear the music coming from the forgotten headphones. “Is that…Whitesnake?”
Dean smirked down at you. “Uh huh. One sec.” He reached over, quickly clicked something on his phone, and the music suddenly changed. You smiled when a familiar song started up.
“Really?”
“What? It’s our song.”
You framed his face with your hands, looking up at him affectionately. “Dean Winchester, secretly sentimental and sensitive guy extraordinaire,” you teased him.
“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I’m not any of that crap. It’s the first song we made good use of Baby’s backseat to, that’s all. Now that you’re staying in here, we gotta celebrate.”
Romantic. You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Like I said, sentimental.” You pulled him down to you and kissed him sweetly. Needless to say, he had been right; you hadn’t needed your clothes for a little while.
You took in a ragged breath, your fingers gently touching over the papers on his desk. While you hated the empty beer bottles and you didn’t want to end up possibly shot with a salt round during a passionate moment of sex, you really hadn’t minded how he had things. You knew this was the first home he and Sam ever really had. He could keep things messy or disorganized if he wanted to; he had more than earned the right. It might sound silly to someone else but he deserved to experience living in a home, mess and all, like everyone did at some point in their lives. Not only did he not have a place to do that since he’d been four years old, he’d never felt comfortably settled in anywhere ever to be able to do it. You remembered him and Sam telling you how long it had taken Dean to settle into this room, to think of the Bunker as not just theirs but home. You’d kick the crap out of anyone who tried to take that away from him, and you would be the last person to try to do it yourself. You still thanked him when he hung the shotguns up on the wall; you were beyond grateful. That time, he was the one who went off and quite happily.
A sob nearly tore its way out of your chest when you saw his handwriting on one of the papers. Your fingertips traced each letter. How could he really be gone?
You ran your fingers over an open file, wondering what he had been looking at, when you heard the clicking of nails on the floor behind you. You spun, lifting your gun, to find Sam standing in the doorway, watching you with wide eyes as a dog appeared beside him. That must have been what you’d heard. You lowered the gun and let out a relieved breath. “What are you doing here?”
You winced internally at your question. He had every right to be here, this was his home. You were the intruder.
“The monitoring system we set up… I was alerted that someone was in the Bunker. I locked it down and I know only he and I had the keys, so I didn’t know if…” You watched as he compulsively swallowed.
You turned back to the desk. “I get that. Where were you, by the way? Why did you lock it down?” He didn’t answer for a moment when you glanced over your shoulder at him, seeing his gaze glued to the ground. “Sam?”
His eyes flicked up to yours and he swallowed again. “I was on my way to Austin. For a case. But then…” He gestured towards you. “I turned around and headed back to see.” You noticed he didn’t mention why he had locked the Bunker down but then again, he didn’t really need to. Who else would be coming here now that Dean, Cas, and Jack were gone? Mary was gone as well as most of the other hunters you’d worked with over the past couple of years. Apocalypse World Bobby was still up in Minnesota somewhere. Apocalypse World Charlie and Stevie had moved East, choosing to retire after what happened with Chuck temporarily disappearing everyone. Garth and Bess still lived in their home with their family. Jody and the girls had their own operation up in Sioux Falls with Donna lending a hand every now and then. And you…well, you never told Sam where you were. 
You gave him a slow nod and dropped your eyes back down to the desk, running your fingers over the pages of an open lore book Dean had been reading. It was probably ridiculous but you thought maybe you could somehow still feel him here (though you did not want him to be a ghost), that perhaps by touch or sight or smell even that you could somehow connect to what his last days had been like. You wondered if he somehow knew deep down or if he hadn’t seen it coming. Even though he had always told you that he didn’t see a good ending for himself down the road, that he was forever bound to this life, you knew he also secretly fantasized about his life going in a different direction, one he’d included you in once upon a time. You then wondered if there was a girl somewhere who was either waiting for a phone call she would never get or was crying her eyes out because Sam had given her the news like he had you. It hurt to think that maybe he had found someone that he envisioned another future with instead of you, with someone he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chuck hadn’t inserted into his life as a manipulation or a story device. Someone that he didn’t question what he had with them, if it was real. Though at the same time, you hoped he found a little piece of happiness. You still loved him enough to want that for him.
You briefly closed your eyes in pain when you remembered that last night you spent with him, telling him you loved him. You truly meant it and even though he hurt you again and again, you still did. You forced the thought away and instead chose to focus on the open book in front of you. “What was he working on?” You choked out, quietly clearing your throat once you heard how rough your voice sounded.
You turned the page, seeing mentions of witches and vampires, when you realized Sam never answered you. You glanced back at him, arching your brows in question.
Sam’s eyes were wide and laser focused on your body, his mouth hanging open. Shit.
You should’ve known that despite the dark clothing you were wearing, the long black coat you were sporting, turning away from him, that you wouldn’t be able to hide your secret much longer. Truthfully, it wasn’t even something you’d thought about when you set out for the bunker. Had Sam been here when you arrived, he probably would have seen it then.
You turned towards the younger Winchester and Sam’s eyes flickered up to you. “Are you…?”
“Yes, Sam.”
Sam closed his mouth and swallowed, glancing back and forth between you and your protruding belly. You read the clear question in his eyes that he was burning to ask.  
“You’re going to be an uncle.”
Except the few times he’d been close to death, you’d never seen Sam look so pale.
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You and Sam sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, Miracle (as you’d come to find out was the dog’s name) laid at your feet, his head on his paws.
“How?” Sam finally asked you.
You snorted in amusement. “You know how.”
“No, I mean… Why didn’t you tell Dean? Did you tell Dean? Because he didn’t tell me and I don’t think that’s something he wouldn’t have told me.”
You wet your lips with your tongue, feeling the heavy weight of guilt and sadness wrap around you once more. “No. I didn’t tell him,” you whispered. It was now the biggest regret of your life, right before the second biggest one of you walking out of the bunker the morning you’d last seen him and not fighting harder to get him to let you back in.
“Were you ever going to?”
Your eyes snapped to Sam at the judgment clear as day in his tone and they narrowed. “No, I wasn’t. He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing more to do with me or anything related to me. So, no, Sam, I wasn’t,” you snapped.
He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down at his lap.
You turned your gaze forward again, taking a breath to tamp down the familiar anger and resentment that you’d worked so hard to try to let go of. After a moment, you rubbed at your forehead. “Yes,” you muttered. “I don’t know. I think so…”
Sam stayed quiet and let you sort through your thoughts which you were grateful for. You’d been caught completely off guard by the pregnancy yourself. When you found out, you thought back to how you unwisely didn’t take your usual precautions and since you and Dean had broken up long before that, you hadn’t been too concerned with maintaining your birth control. 
You’d thought over your options. Bringing a kid into the hunting lifestyle was the worst thing you could do to it. Dean and Sam were living proof. Their mom herself had known it which was why she tried to get out when she married their dad. Not to mention, it would make you vulnerable in your line of work and the kid would always be in danger, always have a target on its back. Plus, you were pretty sure that even if you told Dean, he’d be less than thrilled. He always told you he didn’t want kids, for the very reasons you were now facing. And did you really want to bring a kid into the world that Chuck was about to end, only to have a father who was dismissive of it, or even hated it? You didn’t think Dean would be capable, he’d been great with Jack and Ben after all, but this was different. This kid would have his blood, his genes, would look like him somewhat. Sure, he had that in Emma once and that had torn him up, but this would also be different. This was for the long haul. And that’s only if he even wanted to be in this kid’s life. Which he might opt not to. How could you do that to your child? So you considered choosing to end the pregnancy, which would have been a true mercy given everything stacked against it before it would be born, but eventually you decided otherwise. 
You’d heard the baby’s heartbeat on a checkup while you were still mulling it over, and that was it. Dean wanted to know if what you had was real or not? Here it was, its little heart thumping away deep within your body. After that visit, you’d decided the hell with it. You were someone who believed everything happened for a reason, well before things with Chuck went bad though you still operated on this age-old belief most of the time. You were having a kid, one who would be half of you and half of Dean, the love of your life for all intents and purposes. Though it had hurt when he dismissed you that morning, perhaps this had been the reason why he called you out of the blue, wanting you to come to him, and why you went despite knowing what would most likely happen and how much pain it would cause you.
So you made a decision to start pulling out of hunting. Donna rented her family cabin in Hibbing to you. Bobby hadn’t been back since Mary died so it was sitting empty and unused. You hid the pregnancy as best you could but ultimately, once the first trimester was over and you had popped, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Donna found out though she never knew who the father was. She didn’t pry which you appreciated. When she called you to warn you that Billie was making people disappear left and right, a familiar fear clawed at your chest. Not only fear for your child but also the fear of what if Dean found out about it. That was the only thing that kept you from offering to come down to Kansas to help. 
“We’re going into some place warded to protect us. You should do the same. I can send you pictures of the sigils they’re using.”
“Okay, thanks. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”
“Yeah, don’t you worry. We’ll figure this out. You just stay safe in the cabin. You and…well, you know.”
You appreciated her staying discreet when you heard Sam’s voice in the background. “I will. Thanks, D.”
“You betcha. Talk soon.”
You hung up and Donna did indeed send you the pictures. You did your best with what you had but it didn’t matter in the end. The last thing you remembered was painting a sigil on the window and then everything went black. The next thing you knew, you were back at the window, your finger extended towards the glass, the half-finished sigil staring back at you. You noticed the sun was in a different position in the sky than it had been and you immediately grabbed your cell phone. Two days had passed. How? 
It hit you then what happened and you dropped the phone with a cry, immediately grabbing at your stomach. You ran for the machine Jody had shipped to you after Donna told her. At the time you’d been annoyed, but right now, you couldn’t be happier at the sheriff knowing about your pregnancy once your baby’s heartbeat echoed throughout the bedroom. You let out a huge sigh of relief, rubbing your belly affectionately. “We had quite a scare there, didn’t we, kiddo?”
It dawned on you then that while you had vanished, you were back, baby and all. Did that mean everyone else was back, too? You went back downstairs for your cell phone and immediately called Donna. Yep, everyone was back, they had all disappeared, and it wasn’t Billie but Chuck who had done it. You asked after Dean and Sam and that was when she told you about Cas and then Jack. You knew both brothers would be devastated, especially Dean, and you considered breaking your radio silence to call him. However, you chickened out at the last second and called Sam instead to check in.
It’s not that a part of you didn’t want to tell Dean he was going to be a father, it was that you were scared of what would happen when you did. Originally, you had feared that he would turn his back on you completely, more importantly on his kid, but now you were worried that maybe it would be the exact opposite. While you would be happy for him to be actively involved in your child’s life as its dad, you also knew Dean. He would try to resume things between you, make it work for the kid’s sake. Just look at how long he tried to make it work with Lisa for Ben’s sake. Not that he didn’t love her and he ended up leaving to protect them, but even Lisa knew his heart wasn’t in it. While that had been for different reasons involving hunting and Sam’s reappearance in his life, he still tried to make it work. But as he’d told you, the family thing didn’t work for him, and besides he already had a family with Sam, Cas, and Jack. You hadn’t missed how he didn’t include you in that group; you supposed you should’ve known then. 
You didn’t want him to fake wanting to be with you just to give your kid some semblance of a family life that Dean himself hadn’t really had. You didn’t know if you could take him forcing himself to kiss you goodnight before turning his back on you every single night. Or forcing a smile when he’d come home after a long day and you were the first thing he saw when he stepped inside. It was a ridiculous fear to have, you knew that, and you should be stronger than this — you were stronger than this. Not to mention, you knew you were being selfish and not at all fair to your baby or Dean. But the images kept replaying over and over in your mind, making you flinch, and you told yourself you’d tell him the next day. The next day turned into next week, then the next month. Before you knew it, you were in your third trimester and you were getting a call from his younger brother to inform you of his untimely death.
Maybe that’s really why you raced down here from Hibbing. Maybe that’s why you wanted to see for yourself that he was gone. Not only to confirm that the man who had your heart was gone for good, but also so you could tell him, hoping he might hear it wherever he now was. Or maybe by some act of mercy Jack could relay it to him, wherever Jack was. It was cowardly, you were a coward, and you hated yourself for it. You knew you should have told Dean months ago, after you found out that he and Sam had beaten Chuck, Jack was in charge of the universe now, and the world was not coming to an end anytime soon. Regardless, you couldn’t turn back the clock.
A tear escaped that you quickly wiped away, not caring if Sam saw or not. “You know, when you first told me about Dean, I considered a demon deal.”
Sam’s head snapped up. “No! That’s not what he would want! No!”
You held out a placating hand. “I know. I’m not going to do that.” He seemed to deflate slightly in relief. “I can’t, anyway.” You motioned to your bulging stomach. “I couldn’t do that to my kid. Only be around for 10 years and then poof, I’m gone? Even if it had Dean, if Dean wanted it that is, it’s still terrible to do that to a kid.” You winced slightly when you realized you were saying this to Sam Winchester of all people.
“Dean would’ve wanted it,” he assured you quietly.
You grimaced and dropped your gaze down to the dog who was staring up at you. “Maybe.” You reached down to pet his head. 
Sam placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He would’ve.”
You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking over his words, when you murmured, “Is there any way to get him back?”
Sam let you go and his hazel eyes began to shimmer. “No,” he choked out. “I, uh, checked with Jack and he said it was his time. So…no.”
“What?” You snapped, getting to your feet. “After everything you’ve done for that kid? He just—”
Sam got to his feet, tenderly cradling your shoulders. “I know. I didn’t want to hear it either but…Jack’s right.” Your jaw dropped, ready to let some f-bombs fly (which you usually tried to avoid since the baby could now hear you), when Sam’s hands moved up to your face, trying to get you to listen. “He was ready to go. Jack confirmed it. Dean’s in Heaven and he’s at peace.”
Tears were on the edge of falling when you heard that. “He’s in Heaven?”
Sam nodded, a tear making its way down his cheek. “Yeah. He is.”
If Dean was in Heaven…well, then that was some consolation at least. Just when he thought he’d never make it there thanks to his being a demon for a short stint, being killed by a Hell Hound, and everything that had occurred over the years — even some of the things he’d done. But that also meant he was gone, for good this time. It was confirmed; he wasn’t coming back. It hit you like a freight train and it punched a huge hole in your chest. You felt as if you were falling, falling, and would never stop. Dean was…gone. “Then he’s…”
“He’s gone,” Sam confirmed. “He’s not coming back.”
Your knees buckled and you nearly fell, Sam thankfully having caught you. You heard a wailing sound but you had no idea where it was coming from until you felt it ripping its way out of your body. Sam gingerly picked you up in his arms and moved you onto the bed. You were violently sobbing and you barely noticed Sam holding you, gently rocking you back and forth, his own tears falling into your hair. Miracle had jumped up and laid next to you, whining quietly and trying to shove his head under your hands, rubbing his body carefully against your belly. 
There was no way. No way that this was real. This had to be a nightmare. But when you heard Sam sniffle above you, choking out, “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, it’s going to be okay,” you knew that it wasn’t. Memories of Dean’s face, his laugh, his smiles, his touch, his scent, the way he looked at you when you’d both been happy together, his kisses, the way he felt like home in a way that no other person or place ever could, the way he made you feel safe — all of it smashed over you like a tidal wave and it didn’t let up. Dean Winchester, the man you’d loved with all of your heart, the man whose child you now carried inside of you, was gone. And there was nothing you could do to bring him back.
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Dean had just pulled the Impala over at a beautiful spot, where you could see nature’s beauty for miles. He rested back against Baby and marveled at it all. There was even a double rainbow that showed up and Dean chuckled, knowing that had to be Jack’s doing considering there hadn’t been any rain. Then he wondered if it did rain at all. How did things like that work up here anyhow?
He was still enjoying the view when Jack popped in next to him. 
“There he is.” Dean grinned and went to give him a hug before he thought better of it. “Am I still allowed to…you know?”
Jack smiled. “Of course. I like hugs.”
Dean laughed and embraced him tightly. “Thanks, kid. For everything you did up here, I mean. Bobby told me.” He pulled back, clapping his shoulder in thanks. “So, where’s Cas?”
“He’ll be along shortly but first, I need to show you something.”
Dean’s brows furrowed but he shrugged. “Okay.”
Jack placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and next thing Dean knew, he was back in his old room at the Bunker. “Whoa,” he whispered, thinking Jack and Cas had built the Bunker just for him. He would be able to wait for Sam here, in his home. He hoped the TV in the Dean Cave worked and that he still had access to his music. Baby’s radio had worked so he had high hopes. He was about to thank Jack when his eyes suddenly caught sight of someone in his bed. Well, two someones. 
He glanced towards Jack who gave him a subtle nod, silently encouraging him to get closer. Dean shot him a confused look but did move closer. When he caught sight of you, his heart dropped into his stomach. Even being dead, he felt the same exact thing he felt the last time he had seen you. You were the one who got away, or more appropriately, the one he pushed away. 
Sure, he’d been confused when he found out everything in his life was a lie when Chuck revealed himself to be a giant dick, but he did love you. He had such trouble reconciling the two: what he knew to be true and what his mind was telling him. No other romantic relationship had worked out for him, all two of them prior to you, and now he knew why. Chuck liked him better on his own, being the guy with no strings attached and rolling through town to save the girl, kill the monsters, get thanked, and move on his way. The only other person Chuck liked having in the Impala regularly was Sam. You, well, you he hadn’t seen coming and after the Big Bad Chuck reveal, he had to wonder why. 
He had never meant to hurt you, though he couldn’t seem to stop from doing it. If things weren’t real between you all of this time, he didn’t want to keep pretending like they were. That wasn’t fair to either of you and he certainly didn’t want to continue stringing you along when his heart was no longer in it like it used to be. So he let you go, as painful as it was and as wrong as it felt, he did the right thing by you. Then that night he’d called you out of the blue, he’d been torn up about Cas’ revelations about Jack’s actual role in Billie’s plan, how badly he wanted Chuck gone, and how while he didn’t want to sacrifice the kid, he wanted his and Sam’s freedom more. Without thinking, he’d picked up the phone and dialed you. He shocked himself when he asked you to come over after hearing you weren’t that far away, and you shocked him even more when you agreed. 
Dean hadn’t planned for you two to be intimate, but once you were there, right in front of him, it hit him hard how much he missed you, missed what you had together. So he made a move and you let him. He’d put everything he had, everything he felt but couldn’t tell you, into this stolen moment in time between you. And then the next morning, he thought it had all been a dream until he turned his head and saw you laying there, hair adorably disheveled, sheet covering you, doing something on your phone. It briefly reminded him of the many mornings he’d woken to find you in this exact same position, already up after a wild night, searching for cases. He wanted to bask in the comfort and familiarity for a moment longer, but when you turned and smiled at him, greeting him like you always had, he started kicking himself internally. He didn’t want you to think that this meant things would change when he knew they wouldn’t. He was being unfair to you and it wasn’t right. He’d been a selfish bastard and now he had to go into dick mode which would hurt you again. And sure enough, he knew he did when he saw your face fall as he easily dismissed you, not once but twice. He winced at the memory; he certainly didn’t blame you for not taking his calls or returning his voicemails after that.
The truth was that while he had initially been confused about his feelings for you and their validity, he knew he cared deeply about you and the most important thing was keeping you safe. He didn’t want you involved in the Chuck showdown, which is why he rudely dismissed you that morning, making up an excuse of a case in Duluth, something he knew you’d go along with. After watching you leave, as the door closed behind you, his heart fell into his stomach and he felt about three inches tall. He hated hurting you, hated pushing you away, but he knew it was for the best. You needed to be safe; not a target for Chuck.
After Chuck had been defeated and Jack took over, Dean realized in those months that he’d been a grade A idiot when it came to you. Sure, he’d been a cold dick, but he also had been a complete dumbass. He still loved you and he missed the hell out of you. What you had together had been something special that he stupidly threw away. There were quite a few nights after quite a few drinks, he’d picked up his phone and hovered over your number but he never actually called it. How could he even think of asking you to forgive him and give him another chance? After everything he’d said and done? He truly was a selfish bastard. 
When he didn’t call, he then switched over to all of the photos and videos he had taken of you and both of you together. As he heard your laughter, saw both of your smiles, watched how you looked at him and the affection you’d shown him, he continued drowning his sorrows. He wanted so much to talk to you, to apologize and explain, and ask if he could come see you, but he never let himself ask. He didn’t deserve it; he knew that. 
Now, here you were, asleep on his bed, Miracle curled up next to you. Staring down at you, he wondered how the hell he had ever let you go. And now, he’d never get to hold you again, feel your touch, or even share a conversation with you ever again. Even though Dean was at peace with his fate, regret languished within his chest the more he studied your face. He reached out to brush some hair back over your face but sadness overwhelmed him when he realized he couldn’t even do that small simple touch. Not anymore.
Dean’s eyes narrowed when he noticed an arm curled around you, almost protectively, pinning you to another body. His gaze traveled up that arm to find his younger brother, asleep right behind you. That surprised him but he quickly put two and two together. You must have gone to the Bunker when Sam called you to tell you the news and here you were, in Dean’s room, asleep on his bed with his dog. And while he didn’t begrudge you or his little brother some comfort you both might need, he didn’t like the look of that embrace or that Sam’s face was buried into the back of your neck.
Dean glanced back down at the arm, seeing Miracle staring right up at him. He couldn’t help but smile at the canine who had been his companion for months before he died. “Hey, boy,” he whispered, not sure if he would be heard or not but not wanting to startle you if he was. “How are you?”
Miracle didn’t seem to react at first, not until he got up and moved closer, wagging his tail. Dean went to try to pet the dog, hoping he could at least touch the animal, but he never got that far. His eyes zeroed in on just what Miracle’s body had been blocking.
His wide eyes flicked up to you, to Sam, back to you, and back to your fairly large and round stomach. The hell with being heard and possibly scaring you two. He glanced back to find Jack watching him. “What the hell is going on here, Jack?”
“They’re sleeping.”
“I’m aware of that,” he growled. “But what—”
Just then, Cas popped in next to Jack. When the angel saw Dean, he offered a soft smile. Dean felt himself relax slightly and a part of him wanted to go hug the angel but another part of him was nervous to. Plus, he really wanted to know what the hell was going on. He shifted his eyes towards Jack, his jaw tightening. “What the hell are you showing me?”
Cas glanced towards the bed, realization lighting his features, before he turned to Jack as well.
“The present,” Jack simply answered.
Dean cursed under his breath, not caring that both Cas and Jack could hear him. “The present of what? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like some time has passed.” He gestured towards your stomach. He tried not to be angry with you or Sammy, he really did, but dammit, his brother knew how he felt about you! Him dying didn’t change that! Besides, Sam had something going with Eileen last he knew, whatever happened to that?
“What you’re seeing is a few days after your death.”
Surprise ran through Dean at that revelation. So, this wasn’t some screwed up future scene he was witnessing? His eyes roamed over you, coming to rest once again on your stomach. You were very pregnant, looking as if you might be ready to pop any day now, he wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear; there was no way the baby was Sam’s. Sam wouldn’t have been able to keep that secret from him that long and he just didn’t see you or Sam going behind his back like that while he was alive. You were pissed at him, maybe even hated him, but you would never do that to him. Nor would Sam. The only answer was that you had found someone else and you were starting a family with them. Now he understood your radio silence even more. You might currently be sad at the news of his death, awash in memories in his room to where you’d fallen asleep on his bed and Sam had to comfort you, but you had truly moved on. That burned him even more. While he was happy if you were happy, knowing you’d found someone who wouldn’t break your heart and would treat you better than he ever could, a part of him was saddened by this knowledge. He knew you were too good for him, that you deserved better, but to see it confirmed in such a way, well, it was heartbreaking.
“So if she’s… Then she’s…” He couldn’t even put it into words; it hurt too much.
Jack clasped Dean’s shoulder. “The child is yours, Dean.”
Dean wasn’t alive anymore but if he had been, his heart would have stopped. He turned to Jack, shocked. “What?”
“You’re going to be a father,” Jack supplied, letting him go.
“But…how?” Dean’s gaze fell on you once more.
Cas suddenly appeared on his other side. “You don’t remember how you conceived the child?”
“What? No, I just…”
“Dean,” Jack called. 
When he turned to look at the new God, the latter held up a glowing finger to him that almost reminded him of that movie E.T. “What are you gonna do with that? Check my temperature?” Speaking of E.T., hadn’t that been one of the last movies picked for movie night before the Chuck showdown?
Jack smiled and touched the finger to his forehead. Within seconds, Dean was reliving every single moment between you two:
…When you’d met. 
…When he decided he’d liked you while you decided you didn’t like him too much.
…His constant flirting and trying to win you over.
…Your begrudging friendship that then grew into something more.
…Your relationship.
…Your breakup.
…All of the times you’d been in pain because of him.
…That last night.
…The next morning. 
Then the memories shifted to yours from after that morning: 
…You finding out about the pregnancy a couple of months later.
…Your hemming and hawing over calling him to tell him.
…Your fears.
…When you’d vanished with everyone else.
…Your panic upon your reappearance.
…The time you spent getting ready to retire from hunting and set up a normal life in Hibbing while preparing for the baby.
…The call from Sam with the news of his death.
…Your regret at not telling him about his child and your drive down here.
…Your conversation with Sam.
…Your collapsing in grief at finally realizing that he was gone and not coming back.
All of it that led to the scene he was witnessing now. He felt everything you felt, heard every thought, saw every tear, every smile. 
By the time Jack pulled away, Dean’s eyes were wet. He wasn’t sure how he was able to produce tears as a dead man but he did. Not only did he feel how deeply he’d hurt you, but he also felt just how deeply you loved him. He already knew he’d been an idiot when it came to you, but he really had no clue before this just how incredibly stupid he’d been. It had always been real between you. That hadn’t been Chuck. Not by a long shot.
Dean discreetly wiped his eyes. “Send me back.” His tone was firm and he wasn’t really asking.
“I’m sorry, Dean, but your time on Earth is up.”
Dean turned a menacing glare onto Jack. New God or not, he didn’t care. “She’s having my kid and she needs me. They both need me. Sam, too. After everything I’ve done for this world, you owe me.” Jack stared him down, unbothered by the taller man’s attempt to make demands. “Now I appreciate the Fixer Upper: Heaven Edition, I really do, but I should be with them. I deserve a shot at this and you know it.”
Jack mused on that for a moment before staring up at Dean sadly. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.”
Dean scoffed. “Then why bother showing me any of this? Why bother telling me that it’s my kid she’s about to have? What’s the point, dammit?”
“You were afraid that you had left nothing behind of value, except Sam and your beloved car. Afraid that your life hadn’t amounted to anything in the end. No matter how many people you saved, no matter how many connections you made, no matter what good you did. ” Jack gestured towards you. “It did amount to something. You are leaving behind something, something important. A legacy,” Jack gestured to your stomach. “A family,” he waved his hand over you and Sam. 
Dean’s jaw clenched and he ignored the stinging in the corner of his eyes. “So this was just to show me what I can never have. The girl, the kid, the life…that’s just aces,” he muttered.
“No, Dean,” Cas spoke up. “What Jack is trying to explain is—”
“--your life amounted to more than you thought it had,” Jack finished.
Dean watched as Miracle went back and curled up against your belly once more, his head on his paws as he watched the scene in front of him. The corner of Dean’s lips tipped up into a smile. It was almost as if the dog knew it was his kid in there. And he was determined to protect it in Dean’s absence. His smile faded though when he thought of how he wouldn’t be able to see his kid, at all. He’d had enough of this. “That’s great. Appreciate the pep talk, fellas. Now, if you could send me back so I can actually raise my legacy and take care of my family, that’d be much appreciated.”
Jack and Cas exchanged a glance. Dean knew he wasn’t winning this one but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying. “It’s not your time yet,” Jack answered cryptically.
Dean’s head snapped in his direction. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that now your time is in Heaven, not Earth. And it’s best if you return to it.” Before Jack could snap his fingers, Dean held up a hand.
“Whoa, wait! That’s it? You’re not even gonna let me stick around to see what I’m gonna have?”
Jack smiled once more. “You’re going to have a son. A strong, healthy son.”
Dean reeled from that information. “A son?” He choked out.
Jack gave him a happy nod and held his fingers up again.
“Wait, wait! I’m serious, Jack. Why can’t I stick around?”
“You know what happens to ghosts, Dean. Besides, you’ve already been admitted to Heaven.”
“But you can do something about that, right? Like bring me back?” When Jack didn’t respond, Dean became desperate. “At least let me check in on them every now and then or something! You’re telling me you can’t even do that? You’re freaking God!”
Jack’s smile faded. “You’re not an angel, Dean.”
“No,” Cas interrupted. “But I am.” Cas stretched out his wings that were a lot brighter than Dean remembered. If he wasn’t dead, he was pretty sure he would at they very least be blinded from the brightness right about now. “I can take him back when he’s ready and I can escort him on any future visits.”
Dean was shocked but also beyond grateful at Cas’ offer. While they hadn’t spoken yet about how things were left between them before The Empty took away the angel, he couldn’t imagine it would be easy for Cas to watch as he pined over someone else, as he watched his kid grow, but Dean was grateful all the same. 
Jack appeared to think this over before meeting Cas’ intent gaze. “You will make sure to bring him back each time.” At Cas’ nod, Jack gave him a knowing yet affectionate smile. “I expect you to keep to the rules during these visits.”
“Of course,” Cas agreed.
Jack then glanced over at Dean. “If you’re worried about her and your child, you don’t need to be. Sam is going to watch over them.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly and his head snapped in your direction, his eyes shifting to Sam’s arm around you.
“What the hell does that mean?” He demanded.
“It means that your family is going to be safe. They’re going to stick together. Sam is going to help Y/N raise your son. He won’t allow any harm to come to them.” 
His jaw tightened, thinking it should be his arm over you, him behind you, him helping you raise your kid, you two together. He should be the one to take his son fishing, teach him about girls when he got older, show him how to keep Baby going, be the father his old man had the potential to be but minus a few things. He’d do whatever it took to keep the kid out of hunting, to give him a shot at a full happy life. He’d give up hunting himself in order to make it happen. And you…if you’d take him back, he’d never leave your side. Hell, he’d marry you if you let him. After Jack had caught him up to speed on everything you went through, everything you had felt and were feeling, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, letting you know every single day just how much he loved you, if only you’d let him. If only Jack would allow him to come back. It felt beyond wrong that he wasn’t there and Sam was stepping into his place. Sam shouldn’t have to; he should be able to go and build his own family with Eileen or whoever, get married, have a couple of kids, buy a house, get out of hunting and go back to school — do whatever he wanted with his life. Not this.
“Dean.”
His eyes slowly lifted to Jack’s, who was a lot closer now than he had been before. He laid a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s as it should be. After you died, Sam was lost. She’s going to need help when the child is born.” He stared at Dean meaningfully. “They all need this.”
Dean’s gaze briefly roamed over the three of you on the bed before landing on Jack again. He thought back to his cryptic words from before. “Will I ever meet my kid? Get to see her again? Outside of Heaven?”
Jack’s expression didn’t change nor did he say anything but he squeezed his shoulder. That was the only response Dean was going to get apparently. 
Dean huffed a snort and shook his head.
“I told you, Dean. There would be no more meddling with the world from on high. I will not repeat Chuck’s mistakes. Everything is as it should be.”
Dean’s jaw clenched and he dropped his gaze. No, everything wasn’t as it should be. He made up his mind then to talk to Bobby when he got back. There had to be something he could do to get back to Earth, to get back to you and Sam and the baby…to get back to you all. If he couldn’t convince Jack to send him back, he’d find some other way.
Jack released him as Cas came to stand next to Dean. “I’ll see you back in Heaven.” He then looked at Cas. “Not too long.”
Cas gave him a nod and like that, Jack disappeared, leaving the angel and the hunter alone. Dean wasn’t thinking about how that might have set them up to talk about Cas’ last words to him before dying; right now, his focus was on you.
“Cas, please…can I touch her?”
“Dean…”
“Please,” he begged. “Just one last time. I’m not gonna get to be with her or raise my kid. I just want to touch her one last time. Please, Cas.”
Cas thought it over and then moved closer to the bed, leaning down to place two fingers against your forehead. Dean’s brows furrowed when he noticed a golden glow appear from the touch. “Whoa, whoa, Cas. What are you doing?”
“I’m giving you what you asked for. Y/N’s a light sleeper, like all of you hunters. If she wakes up, she could think she’s being attacked by a ghost or some other entity. I doubt you want that.” He pulled away and gave Dean a look.
“No,” Dean quietly agreed. Cas moved away to make room to let him in. Dean gingerly sat on the bed, about to touch you when he glanced up at the angel, unsure. Cas gave him a nod and Dean turned to gently run the backs of his fingers down your cheek. He felt your warm and soft skin this time when he came into contact with you and he let out a small breath of relief, sadness filling his chest. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Had I known, I would’ve…” He supposed it didn’t really matter what he would’ve done. “I should’ve been there. You shouldn’t have had to go through all this alone. I should be there with you now, ready to help you take care of the kid. I…” He tenderly moved your hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, but I had to keep you safe. I didn’t want you to become a target for Chuck. And I never should’ve…” He could feel a familiar stinging at the corners of his eyes and he wasn’t surprised that his voice was a bit gruffer when he next spoke. “I knew what we had was real. I know I questioned it for a second there but I always knew. That’s why it was so important to me that you were safe. But it doesn’t make what I did and said okay. And I’m sorry for that.” He ran his fingers lightly over your lips, wishing he could kiss you one last time, feeling you kissing him back. “I love you,” he whispered, a single tear falling down his cheek that he hastily wiped away. He stroked the apple of your cheek tenderly with his thumb. “And I always will.”
Not really wanting to pull away from you but knowing he was on a time clock, he reluctantly moved his fingers away from your face and laid his hand on your belly. He couldn’t feel anything except the taut skin underneath his fingertips, but it was enough to make him smile. “Being that you’re my kid, you’re probably going to give your mom a run for her money. Try not to make her too crazy, huh?” He let out a watery sounding laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t be there but your Uncle Sammy is going to make sure you and your mom are taken care of. Okay? He’s going to show you how to toss a ball around, help you with your homework, all that stuff. Just do me a favor, though. Don’t let him feed you kale the whole time and don’t let him get you into his true crime podcasts. The guy is a classic nerd, don’t let him turn you into one, too.” His smile slowly faded. “Saying all that, he’s one of the best guys I've ever known and I know he’ll be good to you, be good to your mom. So cut him some slack when you get older, alright?” He rubbed his thumb in gentle circles. “Take care of your mom for me. I’ll be watching over both of you. I hope I get to meet you someday.” Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach before sitting up and coming face to face with Miracle. The dog quietly whined and Dean gave him one last good head scratch. “You look out for them, okay buddy?” The dog whined again and Dean patted him.
“Dean,” Cas gently called.
Dean nodded and slowly got to his feet. His eyes shifted to Sam who was sound asleep, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks for taking care of them, Sammy,” he whispered. He didn’t vocalize that it was only temporary, that he was hell bent and determined to find a way to get back. His eyes then landed on you and he reached out to you one last time, trailing a fingertip along the dried tear tracks on your cheek. “Cas, can we just stay until they wake up?”
“Dean, Jack said—”
“I know what Jack said,” Dean snapped, glancing back at the angel whose parted lips pressed into a thin line. Dean immediately felt sorry for snapping at him; it wasn’t Cas’ fault and he wasn’t angry with him. He softened his tone. “I just want to be here when she wakes up. That’s all.” Cas seemed to be wrestling with his request. “Please, Cas,” he begged. “I just want to see her like this, awake.” He was slightly embarrassed at admitting that to his best friend but he wasn’t sure when he’d be allowed to visit again (and what he might be able to figure out to get himself back or how long it would take), and he had the strongest urge to see you up and about, walking around, pregnant with his kid. Not to mention he wanted to hear your voice one last time. “Please,” he whispered in a broken plea.
Cas stared at him for a moment before giving him a nod. “But after she wakes, we go back.”
“Thank you, Cas.” He meant it. While he highly doubted Cas would get into any real trouble on his behalf, he knew how difficult it must be for the angel to unwillingly push against Jack’s rules.  Dean turned back to you, carefully sitting down next to you, caressing your face. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured. He also made you a silent promise: he would do whatever it took to get back to you. His eyes briefly roamed to your stomach. To get back to both of you. Fate and the universe and all that crap be damned.
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A/N: Please don't hate me.
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