To Be Loved (Namor X F!Reader)
To Be Loved (Namor x f!Reader)
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A/N: I read a Druig fic with this concept like a year ago and it’s stuck with me since then. However, I’ve searched through an entire year’s worth of tumblr fics & ao3 bookmarks, and I still can’t find it. If you know who came up with this concept, PLEASE tag them or let me know! I would like to credit them for the idea! Also, I can’t stop writing Namor (and I won’t, I love that man so much).
Update: A very kind soul found the fic that inspired this one and sent me their @! It was @itsapeterthing who originally wrote this concept and you should definitely check the Druig fic out!

Summary: Reader is an Eternal (you don’t have to know the movie to understand the fic) who can time travel. We follow her as she visits her lover, Namor, in different stages of his life over a 500-year time period.
(Warnings: no big ones, some descriptions of war I guess?, soft!Namor, this is pure fluff like I somehow made myself fall more in love with him writing this??)
Translations:
in yakunaj – my love
pixan – my soul
ki'ichpanech – pretty girl
Namor was being watched, though he didn’t know it yet. As he stood on the outskirts of his mother’s homeland, holding his mother’s body in his arms, the beauty of her memories was tarnished, ripped to shreds by slavers with whips and hatred in their hearts. Namor was a boy of ten and two, barely old enough to grasp the responsibilities he’d inherited in his birth, but strong enough already to understand the gravity of the situation in front of him.
The hatred that burned in his heart mirrored the flames he’d set to his mother’s homelands, his homeland, which had become a falsity so grand that he could no longer contain the rage within him. It was a wound that wouldn’t heal, a festering cesspool of a memory that would play in his mind for years afterwards. This day would go down in his people’s history as the day the boy-king became a man.
From a young age, laying his mother to rest was something Namor knew he was going to have to do, but no amount of time could have prepared him for the overwhelming heartbreak he felt as he laid her down in her final resting place. He remained by her side, content to sit with her body for as long as he pleased, but he knew he would eventually have to return to Talokan.
All the while, an unfamiliar set of eyes peeked at him through the brush. You would not reveal yourself to him, not quite yet. This moment, as important as it was to Namor’s moral compass and the man he would grow to be, was not a moment you felt the need to share with him. You had travelled through time and space to be here, at present-day Namor’s request, and you would not interfere with this moment.
The young Namor, the one that was blissfully unaware of your presence, knelt down and whispered his last goodbyes to the woman who raised him. You remained in your kneeling position amongst the greenery, unwilling to move until you were sure Namor had gone. When the last of his people returned to the sea, you stood, shaking the ache from your knees.
You tapped into your power, the warm hum traveling through your body as you focused on returning to the present, to your home where Namor was likely waiting for you. It was only a snap of your fingers, a quick blink of your eyes, and suddenly you were in familiar territory again.
The walls around you were filled to the brim with Namor’s art, painted over the centuries. They told the story of him, showcasing different memories that he deemed important. The first one, the one you’d just returned from visiting, was a small painting of his mother, lying in her shallow grave.
“How was it, my love?” Namor’s voice carried from the above water chambers you shared, his voice so warm and deep that he might as well have been standing right next to you.
You peeked your head around the corner, spying his relaxed form in his favorite armchair. You had spent hours there, wrapped in his warm embrace. It was your favorite place to be, too.
You scurried forward, eager to take your designated spot in his lap. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his protective hold. You looked down at him, placing a soft kiss on his brow before cupping his cheeks.
“It was informative, my King. I can see why you were so angry when we met.” You stroked his cheeks with your thumbs in an attempt to soothe the ache.
“I spent many years after that day consumed with vengeance. It was only when I met you that I learned I still had the capacity to love.”
“I’m sorry, my love, for the hurt humans have caused your people throughout the years.” You winced at the thought of Namor consumed by anything but love.
“Don’t apologize, in yakunaj. You will see the man I became to protect my people, and you will see me as my enemies saw me. I did not know mercy for a very long time, and I fear you will not like the man I thought I had to be.”
“I will always love you, K’uk’ulkan. Nothing,” you gripped his jaw for emphasis, “will ever change that.”
Namor gripped your hand, pressing his lips into your knuckles. “I am undeserving of it, but I will accept it anyways, pixan. I am greedy like that.”
He smiled, and your heart warmed at the sight. At one point, it had been decades since a smile had graced his beautiful face, so you always cherished the smiles he sent you, even if you got to see it all the time now.
“Where am I going next?” You asked, glancing at the wall of art.
“To our favorite place to hide away, before it was ours.” He nodded to a small, somewhat hidden section of the wall that had always been one of your favorites. You grinned in response.
-
Namor looked over the landscape in front of him, a little envious of the humans that got to see it every day. The view his hiding spot offered was a spectacular array of gold and red, surrounded by lakes and rivers, and if he didn’t have a million things waiting for him back at home, he might want to appreciate it more. The sea was his home, but he couldn’t help the desire to explore the surface every once in a while.
Home. The empire he had built with his bare hands. Hidden from the world, protected from human interference. Namor was proud of his people and what they had achieved, but he had spent so many years fueled by anger that he feared he may have forgotten the beauty of living along the way. He was lonely, and he could not let this weakness lead his people into their graves. This hiding place was a respite from all of that, but the loneliness tended to follow him here.
A sharp buzzing interrupted his thoughts, and he swung around, ready to defend himself. A being, no – a woman, stepped into the clearing. Namor studied her. A human? No. He could feel the power drumming in her veins, and he tried to make sense of her human-looking face. A threat? Maybe.
You raised your hands in an innocent gesture. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
Namor couldn’t stop the chuckle from leaving his throat. No one, no one, could hurt him.
“Who are you?” He pointed his spear at your heart, ready to drive it deep in your chest at the slightest movement.
You murmured your name. “We’ve met before.”
“I think I would remember meeting you.” His brow furrowed.
“Not yet, I mean. It won’t happen for another few centuries.”
Namor’s confusion grew, and you reached towards your sleeve, rolling it up a few inches. The bracelet Namor had given you was tied around your wrist, and you held it up for his inspection. He balked. That was his mother’s bracelet, and he knew for a fact that it was tucked away in a safe space, miles under the sea.
“You gave it to me a few years ago. You sent me here, K’uk’ulkan, many years in the future. It’s hard to explain.” You scratched the back of your neck. “The paintings on your cavern walls tell a story, and he, you, wanted me to experience them with him, er, you. Is this making any sense?”
Namor eyed you carefully but lowered his spear.
“I feel your power, deep in here,” he gestured to his chest, “but I do not understand it. It’s different from mine.”
You smiled and lifted your hand, allowing a tiny sliver of your power to form into a ball in your palm. A stark yellow lit the clearing. The orb pulsed with power, and Namor took a step forward. Present-day Namor was also enamored with the way your power manifested and loved watching you create different shapes with it in your palm.
Namor stepped closer, watching the orb float in the space above your hand.
“How?” He asked, flicking his gaze up at you.
“You will understand it, one day, in yakunaj.” You fell into your natural pattern with him, even though the man standing in front of you was centuries away from the man you knew and loved.
Namor startled at your ability to speak his language so easily, and then inhaled sharply when he realized what you had just called him. He knew he should’ve been hightailing it home by now. This display of power could mean trouble for his people, and it was his duty to protect them, but the gentle caress of your power in his chest rooted him to the spot. His curiosity always did get the best of him.
“You speak my language?” He asked in his mother tongue, too enthralled with you to worry about the rules he was breaking by doing so.
You nodded, watching as the power faded back into your hand. “I know many languages.”
“We are...together in your time?” He asked, looking over you again.
“Yes. We are bonded, though that probably doesn’t mean anything to you right now. It will, one day.” You paused. “I must return to my time.” You gestured towards the forest, even though you didn’t technically have to move your body anywhere to jump forward in time.
“Will I see you again? Before we officially meet?” He asked, taking a step closer to you.
“Would you like to see me again?” You returned, tilting your head curiously.
“Yes.” Namor said bluntly.
“Then you will see me again, in yakunaj.”
In a flash, you were gone, and Namor spent a long moment staring at the spot you had been standing in moments before. He wondered how long he would have to wait to see you again and hoped it wouldn’t be too long of a wait.
-
Namor waited decades for you, searching for you in every face he came across. His cousin and closest confidante, Namora, didn’t miss the excitement buzzing under his skin every time he had to leave for the surface. He finally told her of your existence after years of holding the secret close to his heart. She was cautious, warning him of the surface dweller’s wrongdoings, but he couldn’t think of you in the same way that he thought of them. You were different, gentler, and he spent the vast majority of his free time thinking about you.
The night that you finally reappeared was a night of celebration for his people. It was Winter Solstice – the one night of the year that his people freely travelled between the sea and the sand. It was always a huge party, but he had spent the majority of it stewing in his longing for you. He had almost convinced himself you were a dream of his when you appeared.
You stood towards the back of the crowd, looking up at the stars. Namor’s heart thundered in his chest as he approached you, unsure of what to say to the person he had spent the last 80 years of his life longing to see. Fortunately, you spoke first, and he wondered if it was possible to fall in love with someone after only meeting them once.
“There are so many stars here. The doesn't look like this anymore, where I’m from. The surface dwellers have many flaws, and I think that is probably their worst transgression.”
Namor said the only thing that he could think of in response.
“I missed you.”
You smiled bashfully, turning to look at him for the first time in 80 years.
“I know. Thank you for being patient, in yakunaj. I go where he sends me, and there is always a good reason for it.”
“Is he...like me? I mean, are we the same, or do you see us as different people?”
“That is a hard question. You are the same Namor I know, but you are also different. At your core, though, you are the same man that I love in my time.”
You looked back at the sky, shifting your body to stand next to his. A somber expression formed on your face, and he couldn’t help but brush the back of his hand against yours.
“What is it, ki'ichpanech?”
“I want you to enjoy this night, in yakunaj, because you will not have another one this easy for a very long time.”
A cold chill ran down Namor’s spine. The conviction in which you spoke left little room for denial, and he could not ignore the uneasy feeling building in his stomach.
“What do you mean?” He finally asked, breathing deeply.
“I mean,” you paused, linking your pinky in his, “he chose this moment for me to visit for a reason. I cannot tell you details, because even I do not know them, but you will have to face an unimaginable threat, and it will be very hard for you. I will not return until after the carnage, and I want you to enjoy tonight, because you will have a hard time enjoying anything for many years afterwards.”
He looked out into the sea, processing your warning. He wasn’t aware of any threats to his people, but the pleading look in your eyes told him he would soon face horrors, maybe outright war.
“How long will it be before I see you again?” He asked, taking your hand in his and lightly squeezing it.
“Do not worry about such trivial things, in yakunaj. Everything will right itself in time.”
Your tone left no room for argument, not that Namor would want to argue with you anyways. You tugged him further away from the crowd, turning to face him after the darkness had blanketed you from the light of the party. You rested your palms on his cheeks, pulling his forehead down and pressing it against yours.
“Be strong, my King. You will be pushed beyond what you believe your strength to be, but do not let that break you. You are a force to be reckoned with, and you will do anything to protect your people. Remember your strength, and above all, remember that there is love in your heart, even if you cannot feel it yet.”
You pushed your lips against his in a chaste motion. It was over before it had even begun, and when Namor opened his eyes, you were gone. Namor clutched his chest, attempting to remember the feeling of your body against his.
Your warning rang true a few days later, when the borders of Talokan were breached for the first time in its history. The water surrounding the city remained a misty red for months afterward.
-
Namor pushed his spear deeper into the chest of the enemy King, finally ending the slaughter that had plagued him and his people for many years. The jungle around him rang with a silence so sickening that he fell to his knees. He hung his head low, exhausted from the fight. You had been right about everything, and the only thing that had kept him fighting for this moment of triumph was the speech you’d given him all those years ago.
The guilt of his warrior’s deaths weighed heavily on his shoulders. It didn’t seem fair, that he would continue living after so many of his people had to mourn the loss of their family members. Their family members, who had died fighting his fight. The weight was almost too much to bear, and he was suddenly glad that he was alone.
His people did not deserve to see his pity-party. He slammed his fists into the ground, letting out a brutish grunt. It was over, but his mind was still reeling. The sound of your soft footsteps brought him out of his rage.
“You shouldn’t be here.” His voice was hoarse as he pleaded with you not to see him like this.
“I am here, all the same.” You waved your hand in a nonchalant motion, lowering your body into a kneeling position in front of him.
He couldn’t look at you. The awfulness of what he had done, of the person he had to become to defeat this threat was so far beneath you, and he couldn’t imagine anyone loving the broken man he had become. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and he squeezed them shut to stop them from falling.
“You should go.” He pleaded with you, shaking his head at the thought of you being so close to the gory battlefield he had just fought on.
“I will not leave you, in yakunaj, just as you would not leave me if our positions were switched.”
You reached forward, gently wrapping your hands around his wrists. The steady drum of your power grounded his thoughts for a moment, and he prayed to the universe that your touch wouldn’t leave him. He didn’t move for what felt like hours, cherishing the warmth in his chest at having you so close to him after so long.
“I cannot stand being apart from you like this.” He mumbled, head still hung low.
“It is not for much longer, my King. One day, not so far in the future, we will be together.”
“How much longer must I live with this torment of longing I feel when you’re gone?”
You cupped his cheeks, swiping at the dirt and grime that coated his face with your thumbs.
“Soon, my love. I promise.”
You walked with him as he made his way back to the sea, the urge within him to return home too strong to deny any longer. There weren’t many words spoken between the two of you, but words didn’t seem necessary. You were here, and you were a gentle reminder that his future was bright, and that’s all that mattered to him at the moment.
When Namor stepped onto the beach, the bobbing heads of Namora and Attuma a few hundred yards out at sea caught his eye. They would return to Talokan with the news that their King had come out triumphant, and that the war was officially over.
You watched as their heads dipped below the surface before facing him.
“I have been gone for too long. I must go.” Namor’s grip on your hands tightened, unwilling to let you go so soon.
“Stay. Please stay.”
You smiled warmly, bringing his knuckles to your lips. “I cannot, in yakunaj. I must return to the present. But I will leave you with a gift, so that you don’t forget me while I’m gone.”
“I could never forget you, ki'ichpanech. Even if you don’t return for 1,000 years, I will still remember you.”
You smiled, pulling your hands out of his. You cupped your palms together, tapping into your power until the yellow orb appeared, floating between the two of you.
“Take this with you. It will shine brightly in Talokan. Bring your people the sun, K’uk’ulkan, after the dark times this war has brought with it.” You pushed the orb into his hands, releasing the speck of power from your being.
Namor gasped, shaking his head. “I cannot do that. This is yours.” He tried to push it back into your chest, but you wouldn’t accept it.
“It will be mine again, one day, in yakunaj. Until then, let it guide your people. Let it guide your heart.”
Namor looked at you, wide eyed. The orb floated around his body, refusing to move further than a few inches from his skin.
“I do not know what to say, ki'ichpanech, other than that I am undeserving of this gift.”
“You will take it anyway,” you say, patting the area of his chest near his heart. Your hand lingered on his skin, and he could not stop himself from crashing his lips into yours. You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He held you tightly against his body, arms wrapped fully around your waist in a tight embrace.
You pulled away, gently cradling his face. “Stay safe, my King. I will see you soon.”
Namor stumbled forward in your sudden absence, and he couldn’t help the frustrated grunt he let out. Soon had better be soon, or he’d start scouring the Earth for signs of you.
-
Namor had not expected to see you so soon. It had only been a few years since your last encounter, and after the enormous stints of time between your previous meetings, he had not expected you for another few decades. An enormous eruption from the sea had beckoned him far from Talokan, the furthest he’d been from his home in years.
Something was different this time. Unlike your previous appearances, where you’d appeared seemingly out of thin air, this time you were accompanied by a small group of people. Your hair was disheveled, and it looked like you and the people around you had been fighting something, something huge.
He rushed onto the beach towards you. If there was a threat to you, he’d eliminate it faster than you could blink. It wasn’t so much a choice, but more of an instinct. He stumbled forward when he felt the full brunt of power between you and your friends.
Oh. They were like you.
Your friends stiffened when they noticed him, but your smile was the only thing he could focus on as he made his way towards you. This felt different because it was different. You weren’t here from your present. This was the present, and he was about to officially meet you. He was suddenly glad you hadn’t told him the details of your first meeting because he hadn’t had time to grow anxious about it.
You met him halfway across the beach, jumping into his arms when you got close enough to reach him. He pulled you into a hug, wondering if he could get away with never letting go of you again.
“I would say it’s nice to meet you, but we’ve met before, ki'ichpanech.” He mumbled into your ear.
“Yes, we have.” You let out a light laugh, planting a kiss on his cheek.
Namor’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out how this version of you could know who he was, or how you would know about your previous meetings since they technically hadn’t happened yet. He shook his head. The thought of it gave him a headache, and he wasn’t going to try and figure that one out on his own.
“You are here to stay, right?” He asked, hopeful.
“Yes, in yakunaj, I’m here to stay.”
Namor kissed you sweetly, arms still wrapped around you. He wouldn’t be letting go of you for a while, and you seemed perfectly okay with that.
-
When you stumbled back into the present for the final time, Namor was stretched out in the bed you shared with him. It was late, much later than you had intended on being, and you opened your mouth to explain your absence before realizing that Namor would remember the encounter with you, and likely already understood why you had been gone for so long. You crawled into the bed next to him, pressing a kiss into his bare shoulder before cuddling into his side.
“Now you have seen me at my worst.” Namor’s voice was a hushed whisper against the late hour.
“I love you, even at your worst, in yakunaj.” You responded in an equally hushed tone.
He pulled you closer, angling his body so that he could wrap you into a hug, and you shuttered against him. He was always so warm, and never once complained about how cold your skin was.
“You are my greatest inspiration, ki'ichpanech. You are my strength and my love. My people are very lucky to have you as their queen. I cannot express the love I have for you in here.” He tapped his chest, resting his head on the top of yours.
“You are an unbelievable sap, Namor.” You chuckled, nuzzling your face into his chest. “I love you even more for it, though.”
End Note: I really really love how this came out. I hope you enjoyed it! Either way, thank you for reading!
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Everyone at Hogwarts just loves Professor Lupin’s pretty wife <3
remus lupin x reader | suggestive fluff 1.1k words

Your shoes click-clacked through the school floors as you walked your way to Remus’ classroom. In your hands is a neatly wrapped lunch he had forgotten about until he was halfway to Hogwarts.
You, of course, noticed immediately and prepared yourself to take his food to his workplace, not wanting your fiance to be hungry all day. Students nodded kindly at you, excited to see your face again. After you had visited your Remus for the first time, rumor had spread around the school of the sweet young woman Professor Lupin had doted on him. You quickly became some sort of micro-celebrity amongst the students, especially when you’d bring in little baked goods for the children.
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Day 06 | Nadja x Reader x Lazslo Cravensworth
a/n - @flufftober. Maybe ooc on account of the fluff. But this month is all about the lovey dovey ♡ and I love when Nadja and lazslo are corny anyway
prompt - candles/lanterns/fairylights
fluff - 650 words - warnings: f!reader. established relationship (polyam). implied spice.


You arch a brow as the camera crew squeezes into the kitchen first. It’s a tight fit with most of the clutter and the table between all of you, but you try your best to ignore them in favor of Lazslo filing in last. His singing could be heard from all the way upstairs. You wonder idly what’s put the vampire in such a good mood.
“My little darling. My pet!” He calls in his timbre. “Your presence is required in the boudoir.”
“Oh?” You narrow your eyes at the lack of a reason. “Is this a surprise?”
“Indeed it is, now come.” You snort as he takes your hand assertively. You abandon your bowl of cereal and let him lead you out of the room with his typical flair, shooing the other humans away. They follow anyway— you suspect they already know what’s going on.
Nadja and Lazslo’s room hasn’t changed much since you began frequenting the vampires’ residence. With the exception of some of your clothes (usually flung somewhere, forgotten), it was still very much their room. When you wanted a place to lie down, you typically went to the lounge, or posted up beside Guillermo when he was home. Needless to say- they were both very creative when it came to sharing you without a bed. But tonight, you’re floored when Lazslo pushes the door open.
It’s hard to miss: Both their chairs have been pushed to the side in their own nook now, in favor of a large queen bed in the center of the room. It’s dressed in beddings to match their gothic tastes, save for a gaudy heart-shaped pillow set atop all the others.
But what’s more is the rest of the room’s decorations— dozens of sets of fairy lights in a cool, twinkling silver are strung throughout the room. You lean down to inspect one of the many LED lanterns, too, watching the fake flame inside flicker.
“Ta-daaah~” Nadja sweeps her arms out from the other side of the bed with a large grin. “You should see your face! Lazslo, do you see her awe?”
“Yes my love, I’d say it was well worth our expedition to Bed, Bath, and the Beyond.”
You blink, still a little speechless as you step into the room further. “What’s all this for?”
“It is our anniversary, you silly little pumpkin.” Nadja tuts. She rounds the bed and embraces you firmly, almost lifting you off the ground. “It has been one year since Lazslo and I both lured you with our thrall to have as an evening snack. And here you are, still scrumptious. Uneaten, of course.”
You try to remember if tonight is actually the anniversary of that day, but you honestly didn’t think Lazslo and Nadja would care about that sort of thing.
In fact, you’re a little moved by the gesture. It was true enough that last October, they had tried hunting you down as you jogged Bloomingdale Park. But you could argue you’ve been devoured in many other ways since then. A flush creeps up your neck at the thought- that and at the display before you.
The two of them stand there and wait for your reaction as the realization sets in— you really are dating the married vampire couple. It fills you up with joy— and gets your heart fluttering in a way you knew they both can sense, even from a few feet away.
“Out.” You suddenly say. You turn toward the camera and begin ushering the crew out of the room. “Out.”
Laszlo shoots you a sharp grin. “Time to break her in, my dears.” He hollers, jumping onto the mattress. Nadja claps as you finally shut the door and turn back to her.
“That is what I am talking about, baby girl!” Nadja shrieks. Her elated glint shifts, eying you hungrily. “The memory foam will never forget this night.”


I’m obsessed with Levi, absolutely smitten. Thank you for sharing him with us.
If you feel up to it could we get a snippet of someone maybe a rival vampire trying to plant doubts in Levi about the reader. Maybe accusing them of cheating on him and using him, only for Levi to laugh in their face because he knows how devoted and loyal they are to each other.
Just like the opposite of the miscommunication trope. Please and thank you🥺👉👈
I'm so happy you like Levi ^_^ This is just a little thing, but I thought it turned out cute and it's nice to do something lighter after the last one omg :D
Vampire (Levi) x female mom reader
Word Count: 1k
W: sfw vampire fluff

“Ugh,” Levi’s cousin Ivan and leader of his clan in Russia grimaced looking down at Meryl over his glass of blood, “don’t you have a nanny?”
Levi nudged him away from the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib he’d put in his office so she could be nearby. He’d wanted to give you a spa day and he knew you weren’t yet comfortable with the nanny, so he happily offered to keep his favorite cinnamon roll with him.
He also wanted you out of the house when his cousin arrived. He didn’t like males seeing you and he knew how frivolous vampire’s could be. Their lives were long and got boring, rare jewels intrigued them, if only for a time. He’d sent you surrounded by a handful of Amazonian vampire bodyguards, so he felt confident no one would bother you.
“(Y/N) and I have decided to keep her caretakers to a minimum,” he said, “she’s already been exposed to so many different germs and people, there’s no reason to add anymore.”
Ivan snorted.
“So she’s got you babysitting her brat?! Cousin, are you a fool?”
Of course in his time, the idea of a vampire Clan lord carrying around an infant was preposterous, let alone one that was not his son, specifically. Many vampire mothers immediately gave their children to wet nurses so they wouldn’t look weak carrying a drooling baby around.
Levi growled at his cousin, prompting him to lower his voice so as not to wake the baby.
Ivan hissed lightly back, his eyes flashing. Vampire lords didn’t like being told what to do.
“Who is this trollop anyway?” he snapped, though a bit quieter, “I’ve never seen you so wrapped around anyone’s finger.”
Levi looked a little wistful.
“Just an angel I came across in a fish store,” he murmured, his eyes resting fondly on Meryl.
Ivan raised an eyebrow.
“Fish…store…? And you’ve taken in her bastard? You’re babysitting it? Levi, I know losing Karen must have been hard but-”
Levi’s face hardened and his voice boomed.
“Don’t say her name in my presence!” he snarled.
Meryl cooed that she was waking up and started to whimper realizing she was alone. Levi looked distraught and hurried over to her, picking her up and bouncing her in his arm.
“I’m sorry baby bat, did I wake you?” he cooed, and she gave him a gummy smile, doing her “daddy is picking me up” dance in his hand.
Something about the happiness on Levi’s face when he looked at Meryl and how innocently she completely trusted him incensed Ivan.
“This is absurd Levi. No one can be this happy! How do you know she doesn’t have some lover on the side and she’s just using you? Tugging a vampire lord on a leash?! She’s probably making another one of those things right now! Aren’t you concerned with how this makes the family look?!”
Levi tipped Meryl’s head to his chest so she couldn’t see before he bared his fangs, transforming his face into a more animal version of itself as a warning.
“Now you sound absurd, cousin,” he ground out, more offended that he’d say such a thing in front of his darling baby than taking it seriously, “(Y/N) is a devoted mother and wife. I won't listen to you slandering her in front of our child.”
Ivan snorted and crossed his leg with annoyance, spinning his blood around.
“Goddess, modern romance is so disgusting,” he retorted, turning his face away from the tooth achingly sweet sight of Levi tossing Meryl in the air to make her giggle, “If it were me, I’d never see the thing.”
“That’s why you’re a cold, lonely bastard,” Levi chuckled, “and I have a warm, beautiful family.”
Ivan rolled his eyes.
“Until she backstabs you like your mother,” he snapped.
Levi growled more loudly.
“I told you not to mention her,” he snapped, flipping Meryl over his shoulder by one foot so she wouldn’t see his anger and making her laugh out loud.
“Ugggggh,” Ivan let out the longest groan ever at her pure joy as Levi pulled her back to his chest and found her one of the toys strewn on his desk to play with.
“I’m back my loves!” you sighed as you walked into Levi’s office and breezed past the vampire sitting in one of Levi’s overstuffed chairs. You tossed your purse lazily on his desk, then tipped up on your toes and gave Levi a kiss, then smooched Meryl.
“Feel my face,” you beamed, taking his hand and putting it on your freshly worked over skin, “they did some kind of laser thing to it! It’s super soft!”
He grinned down at you, taking the opportunity to circle your cheek with his fingers. Maybe it was softer than normal, it always felt soft to him, but he was happy you wanted him to touch you. You'd been seeking out his touch more and more, each time delighting him more than the last.
A bit of a tug in the back of your mind reminded you the other vampire was still there and you glanced over your shoulder at him.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” you asked, looking him over. He looked a bit like Levi, as well, but with wheat blonde hair cropped short and bright blue eyes.
“Uh…this is my cousin, Ivan,” Levi said with as little enthusiasm as possible, “he’s in town for the wedding.”
He was eager to see you since you’d been gone all morning, but he still didn’t like males looking at you, disappointed your spa treatment ended early. For Ivan’s part his mouth dropped and his eyes grew big. He hopped up from the chair and crossed the room, looming over you.
He took your hand and gave it a kiss, smiling down at you with the eyes of a predator behind baby blue irises almost flashing green with envy.
“Levi told me many things about you and I thought he was exaggerating, but he wasn’t lying when he said you are truly lovely. Now I think I understand his fascination. I look forward to seeing more of you, my dear,” Ivan purred, “Levi loves to throw parties so I’m sure there will be plenty of occasions for us to get more acquainted.”
You blinked up at him and extracted your hand from his.
“Er...good to meet you,” you said, wondering if it was a generational gap thing that made him sound so weird to you. Many of Levi's vampires had odd dialects hinting to their time of origin.
Levi bared his teeth and handed Meryl to you, practically shoving his cousin from the room.
“I’ll see you later, cousin!” he growled, slamming the door behind him.
Where You Lead
Warnings: mentions of fighting, hunting, weapons and violence, drinking, hints of parental abuse and neglect, cursing, injuries and blood, gunshots wounds, mentions of death let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Dean Winchester x sister reader, Sam Winchester x sister reader
*not my gif*
Summary: Ever since you first came home from the hospital, you and Dean had an unbreakable bond
A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!
Inspired by: Where You Lead I Will Follow by Carole King
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Loving you the way I do
“This is your baby sister, Y/n,” This might be the first time since his mother was alive that Dean had heard his fathers voice be as soft as it was.
“Can I hold her? Please, can I hold her?” Sam begged, bouncing up and down on his toes in anticipation.
“Dean gets to hold her first, Sam,” John scowled slightly, “We talked about this already.”
The- now middle- Winchester sibling stopped jumping immediately and dropped his head slightly, “Sorry,” He mumbled, kicking his shoe slightly against the motel ground.
As gently as humanly possible, nine year old Dean gingerly held you in his arms, supporting your head the way your father had shown him before gazing at you in wonder.
You tossed and turned a little bit in the hospital blanket that was wrapped securely around you, before you blinked your eyes open slightly.
Instead of screaming and crying like he expected you to do, you just stared up at your older brother in the same amazement that he looked over you with; and that amazement soon melted into full adoration on his features.
“Is it my turn yet?” Sam whined, and John finally relented with a small huff.
The hesitation was visible on Dean's face, looking as if it pained him to pass you over to his little brother, something that escaped both Sam and John’s notice.
What John didn’t miss though, was the way his eldest son lingered near you and Sam, looking ready to spring forward at any moment and save you should Sam accidentally drop you.
“She’s fine, Dean, quit hovering.” John told his son gruffly. But for the first time in his life, the boy didn't snap at attention to scramble and do what his father had said. For the first time, he pretended as if he didn’t hear the man as he continued to stare down at you.
I know we’re gonna make it through
“I’ll be back in a couple days, don’t do anything to draw attention to yourselves.” John warned with a small glare before turning on his heel and exiting the motel room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Dean let out a small breath, glancing over his shoulder to where you sat on Sam’s lap on the crammed couch, both of you engrossed in the cartoon before you.
It had been two years since you were born, and Dean was yet to hear his fathers voice grow soft again, even around you. In fact, John began to try and distance himself from you as much as he could.
He had once confessed to Dean when he was almost black out drunk that it was because he had a child with a woman who wasn’t Mary, and while he and Sam could remind him of his late wife, you did no such thing.
It wasn’t your fault of course, and Dean knew that. He knew that it wasn’t fair for your father to distance himself from you for something you couldn’t control, which would inevitably affect you one way or another eventually.
He walked over to the couch before plopping down onto the small cushion beside the two of you and held out his arms, “Giver ‘er here, Sammy.”
The boy did so, and you giggled slightly at being passed around. You looked up at Dean with a wide smile before turning your attention back to the screen.
A small sigh escaped his lips as he watched over his two siblings, both who were completely oblivious to the fact that John had only left a few cans of food in the room and a very limited amount of money without the certainty of when he would return.
He placed a small kiss on the top of your head. He was going to get you all through this, just like he always did.
And I would go to the ends of the earth
“We asked for a parent or guardian of Y/n Winchester.” The principal raised a single eyebrow as he spoke, eyeing the clearly high school level student.
“I’m her older brother,” Dean grunted with narrowed eyes, “Isn’t that good enough if our father can’t make it?”
The older man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fine, fine. We should get this started, then.” He then beckoned with his hand for you and one of your classmates to come into his office.
You shuffled in, eyes lighting up when you spotted Dean and you hurriedly squealed, rushing over and jumping into his arms, “Hey, sweetheart.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss in your hair.
“What is this about?” The mother of your classmate demanded, shooting daggers at you and your brother from where she sat in a chair a couple feet away.
“I’m afraid we are going to have to suspend the two of them,” The principal spoke.
A look of bewilderment came over Dean's features, “S-suspend? For what? She’s five!”
“Even so, they both must be held accountable for their actions.”
“Which was what, exactly?” He demanded, grip tightening around you protectively.
“The two of them got into a small fight and disrupted the class.” He informed him and the other mom.
“That’s outrageous!” Said mother shrieked, jumping to her feet, “My daughter would never get into a fight!”
“She hit me, I didn’t do anything,” You mumbled into Dean's ear, and he felt his anger begin to boil in his blood.
“Y/n didn’t do anything,” Dean stated, a venomous glint in his eyes as he stared down the mother and the principal.
“Oh?” The woman screeched, whirling around and pointing a finger at him, “And how did you figure that out?” She hissed.
“Because she told me she didn’t,” He said plainly.
She scoffed and rolled her eyes as if he just said the most idiotic thing she’d ever heard, “And how do you know you can believe her?”
Dean stood up immediately, you still clutched to his chest as he glared right back at the older woman, “Because she isn’t lying.” He told her with a dangerous tinge in his tone before simply turning on his heel and striding out of the office.
Your arms wrapped around his neck and you buried your face in his shirt, “Thanks, De.” You whispered.
'Cause, darling, to me that's what you're worth
“What the hell is this?” John snapped with a glare, picking up a doll that had gently been set on the table.
Dean swallowed, eyes flitting over to your sleeping form on the bed beside him, your chest rising and falling steadily.
You hadn’t meant to, and Dean knew that. You were only eight, you hadn’t meant to wander out the store with the doll in your grip as if it was already yours and not something you had just picked up off the shelf.
He had been too preoccupied to even notice until the two of you got home, and he had sighed as he watched your eyes fill with tears and your bottom lip wobble as you stared up at him after telling you that it would have to be taken back.
Reluctantly, he had given in and decided that it wouldn’t even matter if you brought it back now, so he had said he would let you keep it this one time if you never did it again.
Of course, Dean couldn’t tell his father that, then he would be angry at you. And your older brother always did everything in his power to shield you from that side of John.
“I-I took it, sir.” Your older brother cleared his throat, glancing up at his fathers raging form, “I wanted to get her a toy to have.”
The older man let out a loud scoff, rolling his eyes, “Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because sh-she needs toys,” He tried to sound as confident as he could without his voice wavering again. You needed him, he would not give you up like that, “I thought she needed toys.” He was more confident this time.
John dropped the doll carelessly to the ground with a snarl, “Next time,” He seethed, “Next time I catch you pulling any of this shit, there’s gonna be consequences.”
He was talking to Dean as if he weren’t seventeen years old. As if he were still just a child.
But the boy bit his tongue and nodded his head once, visibly relaxing once his father stomped out of the room. He looked back at you and let a small sigh loose, relieved that you hadn’t woken up.
Carefully, he pulled the blankets higher on your body that had slipped down from some tossing and turning.
Where you lead, I will follow
“Dude,” Sam spoke up, glancing away from his homework for a split second to give Dean a look, “She’s fine.”
The man immediately froze, stopped tapping his foot and snapped his head over to his younger brother, “What?”
“Y/n,” The younger boy's head was already facing the textbook again, “She just went out with a couple friends. You can stop stressing out, she's fine.”
Dean hadn’t even realized that he had eagerly been staring out the motel window, awaiting your return with about as much impatience as a toddler.
“I know that,” He shot back defensively, forcing his muscles to relax from his stiff, upright sitting position and relax against the back of the chair.
Sam looked up again, eyebrows raised so high that they disappeared under his hair, “Oh? You’re not staring at the parking lot as if she didn’t just leave five minutes ago?”
“No,” Dean grumbled, sinking down and crossing his arms over his chest.
A sigh left Sam’s lips, “She’s eleven, dude. And she’s just down the road if you need to get to her.”
“Or if she needs to get to me.” He hadn’t even thought as the words slipped through his lips.
There was a pause, “Yeah… yeah, if she needs to get to you, she can easily do it.” He reassured his older brother.
Despite the clear way the words were forced out, Dean still relaxed for real when he heard them, but didn’t move away from the window as he waited for you to return.
Anywhere that you tell me to
You shuffled through the door, head hung low as you dropped your backpack with a small ‘thud’ beside the table. Sam reached out and rubbed your shoulders comfortingly.
Dean looked over his shoulder from where he was preparing dinner, “Hey, sweetheart, hey Sammy-“ He cut himself off when he caught sight of your defeated look and Sam’s pitying one, “What is it?” He immediately rushed out, “What’s wrong?”
You just sniffled slightly and crossed your arms over your chest, kicking at the floor.
“Sam?” He automatically turned his attention to the boy when you didn’t answer, “What’s wrong?” He demanded again.
John had just dropped the two of you off back at the motel after school before rushing off, saying that the hunt was not over even though he thought it had been.
A tear slipped down your cheek, and right as it did so, you took off towards the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind you, leaving your brothers behind.
“Sam.”
“There’s this father-daughter dance going on for her grade,” He sighed, and it clicked into place right away for Dean.
“Dad couldn’t go?” He asked softly.
“He wouldn’t,” Sam corrected him angrily with a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest, “He told her it was a waste of time.”
All at once, a blinding rage boiled up inside of Dean, one of the only times in his entire life that he was anything but scared of his father. For once, he hated the man.
His thoughts snapped back to the present though when he realized that you were still crying in the bathroom, and he immediately reeled his emotions in. You needed him more than he needed to be angry right now.
With a sigh, he crept over and gently knocked on the door after shooting a swift nod of thanks to Sam’s direction, “N/n?” He called softly, “Sweetheart, it’s me. Can I come in?”
There was a moment of silence before the man heard a slight click of a door being unlocked, and he didn’t hesitate to rush in.
Your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were bloodshot in a way that made Dean's heart shatter into a million pieces.
“Oh, n/n,” He cooed, sinking onto the ground beside you and pulling you to his chest, rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly as you cried into his shirt.
He kept whispering comforting words in your ear until you were reduced to sniffles and hiccups that were an effect of after-sobbing.
“D-dad doesn’t want to go with me,” You choked out, clutching a handful of your brother's shirt tightly.
Dean sighed, unsure of what to tell you. Of whether or not he should lie and tell you that your father really did want to go, he was just busy. But he realized that you were now old enough to see right through that.
“I’ll go with you,” As soon as the thought popped into his mind, he hadn’t even given himself a second to process it before blurting it out loud.
You reeled back and stared up at him with wide eyes, “Wha-“
“I’ll go to the father-daughter dance with you,” He shrugged, “I know I’m not dad, but at least you’ll have someone to go with.”
Slowly, a large grin broke out onto your face and you threw yourself into his arms again, squeezing tightly as you let out an excited squeal, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
He laughed, hugging you with the same amount of force, “My pleasure, sweetheart.”
If you need, you need me to be with you
“Y/n?” Dean's eyebrows flew up in shock as the smell of alcohol filled his senses.
“Duh,” You slurred, stumbling slightly to stand upright as you made your way into the motel room, “Who else would I be? Bobby?”
“Are you… drunk?” He had to blink a couple of times to help his brain fully process what he was seeing. You, his baby sister, hardly fifteen years old, drunk out of your mind.
“Noo,” You whined, “God, get off my case.”
“Hey,” He stood up, arm wrapping around your waist automatically as you almost fell over your own feet, “Come on,” Gently, he led you over to sit down on the bed.
With a large sigh of relief, you fell onto your back and cuddled into the sheets, “Thanks, dad.” You mumbled.
Dean's eyes were practically bugging out of his head at this point. He swallowed thickly, “Y-you know I’m not dad, right?”
“Well not biololy-“ You paused with furrowed eyebrows, “Beeolog-“
“Biologically?” He filled in the missing word for you, unsure of where you were trying to go with this as he turned on his heel to get you a glass of water.
You snapped your fingers, pointing a lazy finger at him, “Bingo! You might not be my dad biologically, but you’re more of a father to me than John- John is.” Your head was nuzzling into a pillow by now.
He sputtered, practically dropping the glass before setting it down on the bedside table, “That-that’s not true.” He insisted, “You don’t think that.”
“Sober words are drunk thoughts,” You slurred before opening your eyes and pausing to think, “Wait… that’s not right…”
He sighed, picking up the water and coaxing you to sit up so he could give it to you.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” Dean told you softly, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead.
Even after you eventually drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t do so himself. Still trying to wrap his mind around what you said. About if you actually believed your own words.
I will follow where you lead
“Dean.” You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m old enough to go on a date.”
He scowled, sinking further into his chair with his arms crossed, “I disagree,” He grumbled.
“Of course you do,” You sighed before turning back to the bathroom mirror and checking your reflection one last time before stepping out.
“Do you have your gun?” He asked automatically. And if it were anyone else, you would have laughed. But this was your eldest brother, and you knew for a fact that he was dead serious.
“I don’t think I need-“
“Do you have your gun?” He demanded again, glowering from across the room.
“Yes, yes, I have my gun.” You reassured him, lifting up your handbag of where it was resting dramatically to further your point.
Silence rang out between the two of you for a moment, having your own mini stare down, before it was his turn to sigh and stand up before striding across the room to you.
He put his hands on each of your shoulders, looking you in the eye, “I just want what’s best for you.” He told you sincerely.
Your hands went up to gently grasp onto his wrists and squeeze, “I know that, De,” You spoke softly, “But you can’t protect me from everything.”
“I can try,” He replied stubbornly, cracking a smile when you snorted.
Taking your hands off of his, you moved your arms to wrap around his torso and pull him into a tight hug.
He was just about to return it when a knock rang through the room. Your date was at the door.
Slowly, you let go and looked up at your big brother with a smile.
If you're out on the road
“Where’s Sammy when you need him?” You groaned, dropping your head into your arms that rested against the table.
“Shut it,” Dean grumbled, “I can help you just as well as he could.”
You rolled your eyes up to the ceiling, “You’ve failed every math class you’ve ever been in, genius.”
“And who told you that?”
“Sam.” You said in a ‘duh’ tone.
Dean scoffed, “Well, Sammy’s a freaking liar.”
You rose your eyebrows and placed your head in your hand, waiting as his eyes raked up and down the paper.
“Well?” You asked after a few moments.
“Well, this is hard.” He snapped back.
You threw your hands up, “That's why I asked for help!”
He seemed to ponder something for a moment before putting the paper down tentatively, “Math was always stupid anyway. I don’t think it would hurt if you didn’t do this one assignment.”
“So, you’re admitting to not knowing how to do this?”
“…no.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“… fine, I failed every math class I’ve ever taken.”
Feeling lonely, and so cold
“You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine.” Dean muttered, not knowing if he was trying to reassure you or himself more as he put so much pressure on the gas that his foot had begun to hurt.
“D-Dean-“ You muttered from the passenger seat, lulling your head to the side to try and face him.
Quickly, he shushed you, doing everything in his power not to focus solely on the crumbled up shirt you were holding against your stomach to try and apply pressure to your wound. He knew if he focused on that for longer than a couple of seconds, he would abandon his mission of getting you straight to a hospital and try to take care of it on his own.
He knew his mind would kick into a protective, frenzy overdrive and he wouldn’t allow himself to wait until he arrived at his destination.
Of course, the one day Sam wasn’t feeling well enough to join the two of you on a hunt- one that was supposed to be so simple that Dean finally- begrudgingly- allowed you to come on, you had gotten shot in the stomach.
As soon as that had happened, everything about the hunt immediately flew as far from Deans mind as humanly possible, even letting the shooter get away in his panicked state as his brain switched to autopilot mode and he scooped you up and rushed you to the car.
Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was-
A violent cough raked through your body, making your older brother visibly flinch as he pressed down harder on the pedal, even if he was already going as fast as he could.
“You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart,” He muttered, harshly blinking away the tears that began to pool in his eye ducts.
All you have to do is call my name
“Dean?” You whispered into the darkness hesitantly.
“Wh-What? What’s wrong?” His eyes immediately snapped open and he flew out of the bed at your nervous tone.
He gently took ahold of each of your shoulders and blinked the sleep away from his eyes as they scanned your face through the darkness for any sign of distress.
“I-I had a nightmare…” You muttered weakly, feeling heat begin to spread to your cheeks as you averted your eyes from your elder brother.
“Oh,” He breathed out, relaxing only slightly when he realized that you were in no immediate danger, “Oh, it’s okay, sweetheart.” He quickly wrapped his arms around you and brought you to his chest.
Your own arms snaked around him in return, burying your face in his chest and allowing him to rock both of you back and forth slightly as he rubbed your back soothingly.
“Can I stay?” You whispered meekly, refusing to look him in the eyes from the sheer embarrassment of it all.
“Of course,” He answered without hesitation, keeping an arm wrapped around you as he gently led you to the bed.
As soon as you were both lying down and under the sheets, you cuddled into your older brothers chest and let out a little sigh of content, “Thank you, De.” You whispered sleepily.
“I have nightmares all the time too,” He whispered after a few moments of silence, “They got worse after you almost died on that hunt.”
You felt his arms tighten around you as he spoke, and you held on just as tight in return.
“We’re okay,” He spoke comfortingly, kissing the top of your head again, “We’re okay.”
And I'll be there on the next train
“I-I need help,” You spoke shakily into the phone, wrapping your free arm tighter around yourself as you spoke.
“Alright, I’m on my way.” Came Dean's determined reply.
No, ‘I told you so’. No, ‘You made this mess, you can get out of it yourself’. No, ‘You shouldn’t have gone in the first place’. Just your selfless, loving brother who was willing to drop everything he was doing because you had made a mistake. Because you had insisted that you could finally go on a solo hunt despite his protests and pleas. Because he had been so scared of a repeat from the last time he had allowed you to go on a hunt. And even that time you were with him, this time you wouldn’t be.
And now you were in over your head and you needed your older brother to bail you out.
“Dean?” You sniffled slightly into your phone, “I’m sorry.”
“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He spoke soothingly.
In the background, you hear the car start as if he had just been sitting in it waiting for your call.
You wouldn’t be surprised. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him.
Where you lead, I will follow
“Sam’s gonna kill us ya’know.” You spoke, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into your mouth.
“What Sammy doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Dean replied calmly, leaning back against the couch cushions, eyes trained solely on the Scooby-Doo episode.
“We’re supposed to be researching lore about the case,” Even though you said it, you made no effort to turn off the television and go back to work.
“You and I both know that he’ll do all of it anyway,” He reminded you, “Might as well enjoy our time instead of wasting it.”
A chuckle escaped from your lips as you softly shook your head back and forth, folding your legs underneath you and entertaining your brother by watching his favorite show with him.
Anywhere that you tell me to
“How do you mess up making toast?” You yelled over the fire alarm.
“I don’t know! Okay? I don’t know!” Dean's voice boomed back as he wildly jumped around with a towel while trying to fan the smoke out of the room.
Despite his protests, the alarms screeching didn't come to the halt you had hoped for. If anything, it seemed to get even louder.
“I leave you alone for five minutes and this is what happens!” You scolded, “I swear, I feel like I’m the older one sometimes.”
“Just shut it and help me!” He snapped.
You sighed irritatedly, but grabbed a towel anyway and joined in on his efforts of stopping an almost inevitable fire.
It took a while- and a lot more screaming matches- before the alarm finally died down and the only thing that remained from the fire was the ringing in your ears, the faint smell of smoke, and a burnt beyond recognition piece of toast.
“Let’s… let’s not speak of this ever again.” Dean finally huffed out after catching his breath.
A wicked smile made its way onto your face at his words, “In your dreams,” You told him sinisterly.
His face dropped and he looked at you in horror, “Don’t you dare-“
“Oh, Sam,” You sang, practically dancing out of the room.
“Get back here!” The sound of thundering feet coming bounding after you made you squeal and pick up your pace.
If you need, you need me to be with you
“Y/n?” You ferociously wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks when you door was knocked on, “Sweetheart? Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah, I’m fine, Dean.” You silently cursed yourself for the small crack in your voice as you spoke. Though you doubted it would even need to be there for your brother to know that something was wrong.
“I’m coming in,” He announced, waiting only a split second to see if you would protest before opening your door and immediately scanning his eyes over you to see what was the matter.
“Hey, hey,” He murmured gently, dropping down in front of where you sat on your bed once he realized you didn’t appear to be in any physical pain, “What’s wrong?”
You shook your head when you were unable to speak, averting your eyes from his wide, concerned ones.
“Talk to me,” He pleaded softly. He hated when something was the matter that he didn’t know about, it absolutely killed him.
“It’s just-“ You choked out a small sob, “Why?”
His eyebrows furrowed as he unconsciously swiped a piece of hair from your face, “Why, what, sweetheart?”
Again, you shook your head, “I’m being so stupid-“
“Hey,” He gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him, “Anything making you upset is not stupid. Now what’s wrong?”
“Why can’t we just have a normal life?” His heart dropped, “Why did dad have to drag us into this? We’ve lost so many people because of what we do and I just don’t know if I can take it anymore-“
“Hey, hey,” He shushed you softly, immediately wrapping his arms around you, “Shh, it’s okay, I know. Believe me, sweetheart, I know. It’s not fair. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Dean.” You sniffled, pulling away and wiping your face with your sleeve.
“Still,” Tears began to form in his own eyes and he was forced to harshly blink them away, “I wish more than anything that you could have been spared from this. And I am so damn sorry that you weren’t.”
“I don’t want this for you either, Dean.” You told him softly.
He smiled sadly, “I know, sweetheart, I know. But at least we have each other.”
You were finally able to smile slightly at that, “Yeah, we do. Don’t we?”
I will follow
Humming lightly to yourself, you put the finishing touches on the dish before you and stepped back with your hands on your hips, proudly smiling down at it.
“N/n!” Dean's voice echoed through the halls, “I’m home!”
“In the kitchen!” You echoed back, excitedly jumping to hide the plate behind your back just in time for him to enter.
He entered with a wide smile, “Hey, sweetheart, what’s-“ He froze and eyed you suspiciously, “What are you up to?”
Unable to even attempt to hide your eagerness anymore, you leapt to the side and dramatically put your arms out to the side, “Ta da!” You guestered to the plate you had previously been hiding.
A wide grin automatically broke out onto his face as he came scurrying over to the counter with childlike excitement, “Pie?” He practically squealed, “You made me pie?”
You nodded proudly, putting your hands on your hips.
He rushed over and scooped you in a long hug, spinning you around in a way that made you giggle, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He gushed while gently setting you down, “Have I ever told you that you’re the best sister ever?” He was already taking a fork and shoveling some of it into his mouth.
“I could do with hearing it more often.” You teased.
“You’re the best sister ever!” He cheered, devouring the dessert happily.
Where you lead
The steady rocking of the car did nothing to help your tired state, nor did the music softly drifting out of the speakers and filling the small space effortlessly.
Dean's eyes flitted over to you for a quick second, “You can go to sleep, it’ll be a couple more hours until we get there.” He told you softly.
You shook your head stubbornly despite the yawn you had to bite back, “I wanna stay up with you,” You murmured, unconsciously cuddling up against the seat.
“We had a long day, just get some rest.” He insisted in the same gentle tone.
Finally, you weren’t able to hold back your exhaustion any longer and you practically melted into the cushions, “Fine,” You mumbled, “But only for a few minutes.”
He laughed lightly, reaching over with one hand and ruffling your hair playfully, “Sleep well, sleepyhead.” He teased.
“I love you, De,” You whispered, eyes already drifting shut and your head lulling to rest against the window.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
Idjits 👟- @ineedmorefanfics2 @roseblue373 @popfishjr @kiyomi-uchiha777
𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄 , carmilla.
› ..you are her dearest love, and her devotion never wavers. fem reader. — i am in love with carmilla.

“My lady wife,” she mumbled, kissing the top of your shoulder. “It is midday, you should be resting.” You hummed, looking over your shoulder to see her face.
“I should, but I cannot sleep.” The book you held in your hands was comfortable, and by-far the most entertaining. Romantic novels claimed a place in your heart, and possibly even a greater one compared to your beloveds. “I have all the time in the world to read and yet I choose to when you are with me,” you laughed. “Perhaps these old books have taken your place in my heart.”
It was heavy in your hands, red-tainted leather soft within your grasp. It had gold bindings, and the pages even matched the metallic shade with their yellowed papers. Thousands of books lined your shelves, and yet almost every one of them had felt your cold hands upon them. For a moment Carmilla thought so as well, however her grin betrayed her own silly agreement.
“I believe that they have, my sweet. Your books have felt more touch than my hands in yours, and I envy them.”
The castle was quiet, but your serene giggles echoed down the long hallways. “I should have had a ring made for every one of them, so they could know my love is unconditional.”
Carmilla was a woman of stern ruling. She walked the earth for a long, long time and yet never thought that she could love another just as she had with you. The way your eyes held adoration and love whenever you looked at her, and the way your lips held pure happiness and bliss whenever she felt them upon hers made her swoon. You were a witch, a she-demon who clawed your way into her cold, unbeating heart; making it your home, and making her blood run warm for the first time in forever. Carmilla thought that love like this would only exist within the books you read, but perhaps she was living in such a story, with you as her eternal love, who would make her days better with a simple glance.
You were her lady wife, and she had loved you like no other.
