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kryptid-writes · 4 months

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Always and Forever

Having known Astarion long before he was turned, an unexpected reunion with the man you once loved stirs up a whirlwind of emotions.

1.7k (angst&fluff)

To say your life had gone from uneventful to spiraling chaos in the course of a single day is an understatement. Having been abducted by mind flayers, surviving the crash of a nautiloid ship, and having a damn tadpole wriggling around your head, you’re now working with a group of unfortunate souls doomed to the same fate as you unless you can find a healer.

These strangers have all been rather welcoming in their own sense, some more than others. All of them except for one, a pale elf with a serious attitude problem. Since the moment you ran into him, he’s been very distant, always traveling behind the party or several paces ahead, never making eye contact, and avoiding conversations by all possible means.

What puzzles you is why he only acts that way towards you. He's had no problem engaging with the others. What had you done to piss him off? After all, you’ve been perfectly friendly, even offering to share your rations, an apple and a bottle of below average wine that he had so blatantly rejected without saying so much as a word. Instead, he just walked away to his tent, burying his nose in a book he suddenly found oh so interesting. The whole interaction has left an unpleasant taste in your mouth that wasn’t entirely the fault of the wine.

As night crept upon us, conversations died down and one by one everyone retired to their tent. Eventually, you follow suit, but sleep did not bless you this night. You stay awake, staring at the roof of your tent, pondering why the elf seemingly hates you so. The look of distaste on his pale face paints your mind, but the more you picture it, the more unsettled you feel.

On a subconscious level you recognized something in him. His sharp features, silvery voice, and charming smile felt so familiar, yet so foreign. Then it dawns on you. He’s someone you knew long ago. Of course, it’s been nearly two centuries and he looks a lot different now. You remember the way the sunlight brought the golden hues out of his brown hair. It was longer at the time, more neatly groomed. It was a beautiful contrast to his green eyes that were as deep as the forest itself. His skin was a warm tan from his time outdoors. Oh, how he loved the sun.

Astarion. How could you not have seen it before?

You step out of your tent, needing a breath of fresh air to clear your head of it all, and there sat in front of the weakening fire is the man you had once known so intimately. In a moment of courage, you quietly approached him, taking a seat by his side.

His gaze never left the fire, the warm glow reflecting in his dark, crimson eyes. Surely he knows you’re there, but perhaps he will continue to pretend you don’t exist. Perhaps that’s all he wants from you, to be left alone. But you’d be damned if you don’t say something. You have to know. You look into the fire, willing it to give you strength.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Your eyes stay fixed on the flames, waiting for some sort of response, if one was even to come. Astarion doesn't respond at first, your hope of getting any sort of response dwindling by the second.

“Indeed it has,” he finally replies, his voice uncharacteristically somber. The sweet man you once loved now looks as if the world has broken him into a million pieces, the warmth in his eyes long gone.

“It’s been, what? 200 years?”

“201, yes.” His gaze never falters from the fire, as if he can’t bring himself to look you in the eye.

“I almost didn’t recognise you. You look… different,” you try to say delicately, but the scowl on his face tells you he doesn’t take kindly to that comment.

“Yes, well, a lot has happened since then. I’m not the man you once knew.” His voice is cold.

“Fate is a cruel master, is it not?”

“That it is,” he replies with a somber expression. He exhales deeply from his nose, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

What… happened?” You ask cautiously, scared that he may scamper off like a wounded animal at any moment.

He sighs, his piercing eyes finally meeting yours, as if truly seeing you for the first time. It still makes your heart flutter as it did so long ago. “I suppose I do owe you an explanation.”

You stay quiet, waiting for him to share on his own accord.

“Do you remember the last night we spent together? That night at the tavern?” He asks.

“Of course I do, how could I forget? We had a lovely evening together at the tavern and spent, well, a rather intimate night together. One of many. I fell asleep in your arms, but when I awoke, you were gone,” your lips tug into a frown.

His expression mirrors yours, painting a mournful look. “I remember that night clearly despite it being many centuries ago. I had business to attend to, you know how it was. I meant to return to you before the sun rose, to hold you in my arms once again. But as it seems, fate had different plans for me.” His eyes dull as he speaks, like his mind has wandered far from here.

“I was attacked. A gang of vagrants. A tribe of wandering ‘Gur,’ took issue with a ruling I made. They beat me to death's door. When Cazador appeared, he chased them off and offered to save me. To give me eternal life.” He looks to the sky for a moment, as if the stars would give him the chance to change the past.

“Given that my choices were ‘eternal life’ or ‘bleed to death on the streets’, I took him up on the offer.” He sighs.

“It was only afterwards I realized just how long eternity could be… an eternity without you.” His gaze meets yours, the pain in his eyes saying a thousand unspoken words.

You fall quiet, at a complete loss for words. You thought he had left you in cold blood. The love of your life gone in the middle of the night, never to be seen again. And perhaps the anger made it easier to accept, perhaps that’s why you’d let it consume you for so long. Finally hearing the truth after so many decades of anger, hurt, and confusion, leaves you with a deep feeling of guilt in the pit of your stomach.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” you say quietly, the urge to reach out and comfort him tugs at your heart strings, but you resist, scared of how he may react.

He nods in acknowledgement, sitting in silence for a few moments.

“As it would happen, I became a slave, a vampire spawn kept by the Szarr family.” He looks at you with genuine care for the first time in centuries. “You must know I tried to get back to you. I tried to escape many times in hope I could see you just once more. But Cazador had a cruel sense of obedience. But being away from you when you were just within reach? That was the true torture.”

“Astarion…” Your voice comes out a weak whisper, stolen away by grief. Your heart truly breaks for him.

“The thought of being with you again kept me going. Even 200 years later, you’re my glimmer of hope in the darkness,” he says, letting his eyes fall closed for just a breath.

“Then why? Why avoid me when I'm right here?”

“Just look at me!” He snaps, centuries of pent up self hatred breaking through. “I don't need a reflection to see what I've become. A monster. A freak of nature driven by a lust for blood.” Angry tears prick his narrowed eyes. “The gentle, carefree man you once knew is dead. I’m a shell of the person you loved.”

Your heart shatters into a million pieces. Maybe it’s true, maybe the man you once knew is dead, broken by the world, but perhaps you could learn to love this version of him too.

“Astarion, you’re not a monster-”

He cuts you off before you can even finish. “You don’t know what I've done! The people I led back to Cazador, sentencing them to their death. There must have been a thousand of them, and I remember each and every one.” The chains of his actions weigh heavily on him. His body trembles, a whirlwind of emotions that he has repressed for centuries, now clashing together all at once in a miserable symphony.

“You did what you had to to survive.” You place your hand on his, the feeling of his soft skin bringing back so many memories. “That doesn’t make you a monster.”

“Could you…” He takes a deep breath, his voice shaking with nerves and doubt. “Could you still love someone like me?” His face softens, no longer hiding his vulnerability.

“Of course I could. I do. Star. My Star.” You intertwine your fingers with his. Your hands still fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle.

He smiles a real genuine smile, possibly for the first time in centuries. “You… you still love me? Even after everything?”

“More than you know. I never stopped loving you. Even two centuries later, you’re who I dream of each night. some part of me hoped that one day I'd be in your arms again. I’ve never even taken another lover, no one could compare.” You lean your head against his shoulder, a gesture he gladly accepts.

“I love you too. I always will.” He places a soft kiss to the top of your head, quietly humming in content.

There's a comfortable silence that hangs in the air like a warm blanket, only broken by the soft pops of the fire and the occasional howl of the wind. For once, the world felt quiet, like it was only the two of you. When the morning dawns, so will the burdens that we carry: the tadpoles, the new form your lover’s taken, the years of conflicted emotions, but tonight none of that matters. All that matters is you’re back in Astarion’s arms once again.

A/N: I’m so sorry for my long hiatus, I got swept up in school work. But my semester is over now which gives me more time to write!

Masterlist

#Astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fluff #astarion angst #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fic #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #bg3 fanfic #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav

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kryptid-writes · 10 months

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Sabotage

After one too many failed dates, Y/N finds out the real reason Gabriel has sabotaged her love life.

(3.5k)

Warnings: Smutty smut

“Check please,” you politely ask the waitress as she passes by.

She nods and digs the checkbook out of her apron pocket and leaves it at the edge of the table, next to your empty plates and half finished glasses of red wine.

You were lucky enough to get a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in the city that’s typically booked out months in advance, accompanied by your lovely date.

You were skeptical about trying dating apps, claiming “they’re for losers who don’t go outside.” But the Winchester brothers had convinced you to give it a try after the countless dates before that had ended in disaster, to say the least. Dean even helped you set up your profile, choosing the best photos on your camera roll, limited to the ones without the blood and weapons.

You had almost given up in total, on the verge of deleting the app, when you matched with a nice man named Daryll. He’s a few years older with a steady job as a physician and a luxury car. Not to mention that he’s tall and clean shaven, with rich umber skin, and a smile that could light up a room. He’s dreamy, to say the least.

“So…” He trails off with a suggestive smile, taking a meticulous sip of his drink.

“So,” you repeat, your gaze getting lost in his dazzling amber eyes. The tension hangs in the air, cutting through the sound of plates and drinks clinking, and muffled chatter from the other patrons.

“I had a really nice time tonight, we should do this again sometime.” He reaches his hand across the table, resting it on top of yours.

You blush and nod your head. “Yes, I would really like that.”

After a short debate on who will pay, Daryll insists and grabs the check, slipping his sleek metal credit card into the folder.

The waiter whisks it away and returns shortly, thanking us with a polite smile.

You exit the restaurant with Daryll, the smell of extravagant food fading from your senses as the door shuts behind you. You stop to admire the twinkling stars in the dark summer night sky, a light breeze blowing your hair back in the wind.

There’s an unspoken debate, as you stand shoulder to shoulder in silence. It’s been a long time since you’ve gotten this far on a date and you're left feeling rather nervous.

You bite down your nerves and decide to speak, choosing not to waste this opportunity. “You know, I have an unopened bottle of Italian Riesling back at my apartment,” you say, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “It would be a shame for it to go to waste.”

“Riesling?” He chuckles, “Count me in.”

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You fish out your keys from the bottom of your purse and shove it in the lock, with a light jingle, the door opens, revealing the tiny apartment that you call home. “So, this is it,” you say, inviting him in and gesturing for him to sit on the gray loveseat in the living room.

You hope he doesn’t mind the organized clutter of your apartment. Books, paintings, and houseplants tastefully strewn throughout the rooms. Of course you had hidden away your hunting gear in a small closet, given the small chance the night ending at your place

“It’s nice. Cozy.” He takes off his jacket, hanging it on the coat rack. He takes a seat in front of the roaring fireplace, the warm orange glow illuminating the room and the burning wood giving off a pleasant aroma.

You hastily search your cabinet through the countless bottles of wine until you find the Italian Riesling you have been saving for special occasions. It must’ve been sitting there for god knows how long, but wine gets better with age, right?

You pour the wine into two of your fanciest glasses, careful not to spill a single drop over the edge. Clicking the button on your stereo that sits on the kitchen counter, the soft sound of classical music fills the room. You pick up the glasses and take a seat next to Daryll, handing him the other one with grace.

“To us,” he says in his smooth voice, lifting his glass in the air.

“To us,” you repeat, clinking your glass in a toast and taking a sip of the wine. The semi-sweet liquid flows down your throat, leaving a dry aftertaste of peaches and grapes.

Daryll scooches closer, placing a hand on your thigh, sending a shiver up your spine. His thumb rubs teasing circles along your skin, your flesh heating up at his touch.

It’s been a long time since anyone has touched you, let alone someone as attractive as Daryll. Your breathing becomes heavier as you try to quell your growing excitement.

“Tell me, Y/N, do you usually lure men back to your apartment with fancy wine?” He says with a flirty smile, lightly squeezing your thigh.

“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure before. Why, is it working?” You giggle.

“You know,” he says, brushing a strand of hair out of your face, “I think it is.” He leans in close, his lips just inches from yours, the sexual tension growing by the second.

You close your eyes and lean in, desire burning in the pit of your stomach. Just before you can break the distance, you’re interrupted by the sound of blaring music and flashing lights.

You both jump back at the surprise, looking around at the once calm room turned chaotic. The swirling rainbow lights and reflections from the sizable disco ball dropped from the ceiling dances across the walls. The stereo that previously played peaceful classical music, now plays the best of 70’s disco at the highest volume, so loud that it sounds distorted and rings in your ears.

“What. The. Fuck,” Daryll yells over the music, his face scrunches up in a mixture of confusion and anger.

“I- I can explain!” You yell back, covering your ears as you desperately try to think of a reasonable explanation for the sudden madness. You’re interrupted by the feeling of something small and furry scurrying past your feet, making you gasp and tuck your feet onto the couch cushions.

A mouse dashes across the floor, barreling directly towards Daryll, catching you both off guard as you’ve never had a rodent problem before.

Despite carrying himself as a strong, fearless man, he runs for the door in a panicked hurry. “Look, I'm out!” he shouts with a disgusted look and slams the door behind him.

Anger surges through your body as you witness the one successful date you’ve had in months storm out the door, and you know damn well who’s to blame. You grab the stereo, ripping the plug out of the wall and smash it on the ground, the pieces scattering across the floor, halting the music mid track.

“GABRIEL, GET YOUR FEATHERY ASS DOWN HERE!” You yell, shaking with anger, and looking to the ceiling.

“Hey sugar, you called?” The familiar voice of the mischievous archangel says from behind you.

You turn on your heels to face him. Of course he’s dressed for the occasion, wearing a stupid dress shirt with an obnoxiously loud pattern, the first few buttons undone, exposing the skin of his chest, and black bell bottom pants, with slicked back hair, and a fake mustache. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he’d fallen right out of the 70’s.

The way he stands nonchalantly with an amused smile on his face, leaves you fuming. “What is wrong with you! You ruin everything!” You yell, your face heating up.

He stares back at you, seemingly amused with your little outburst, conjuring a lollipop in his hand and sucking on it.

“All I want is one successful date! One!” You point at him angrily, taking a step closer. “First it was the nice girl from the bar that you sent to some alternate reality that definitely scarred her for life, then it was the cute mechanic that took me to the movies who, may I remind you, you released a dozen snakes on him.”

Gabriel snickers, recalling the antics that he found so enjoyable.

“And now, this!” You snap, walking forward til you’re all but a few feet away. You take a deep breath, collecting your emotions. “I get that I'm a hunter, but maybe I don’t want to die alone,” your voice takes on a melancholy tone.

His face softens, his signature cocky smile melting into a frown.

“It’s like you don’t want me to be happy,” you whisper, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill.

“Hey! That’s not true!” Gabriel snaps in an offended tone, suddenly taking this very seriously.

“Then why, Gabriel? Cause I don’t find this funny! At all!” You look up at him with pleading eyes, desperate for some kind of an answer to all this torment. What did you do to deserve this?

He stays silent, but his soft, bashful eyes says it all.

“Oh,” you whisper, something inside of you clicking, finally connecting the dots that should have been so obvious. “Are you… Jealous?”

He scoffs, looking away, but doesn’t deny it.

“You are! You’re jealous!” You say in disbelief with a shameless smile.

“No! I just… I just don’t think they deserve you,” he replies, trying to keep his cool demeanor he’s worked so hard to curate. “You deserve someone capable, someone who’s gonna treat you right and take care of you.” He straightens his posture and subtly puffs out his chest, which might have been effective at impressing you, if he wasn’t dressed like the long lost member of the Bee Gees.

“Someone like you?” You say, lifting a brow and stepping closer, now invading his personal space, not that he seems to mind.

“I didn’t say that.” He furrows his brows, taking a daring step forward, nearly closing the distance between the two of you.

“You didn’t deny it either,” you say with a cocky smile.

He stares at you intently, his longing eyes falling to your pink lips.

Feeling a rush of boldness, you lean in close, placing a hand on his chest and whispering in his ear, “If you want to take me on a date, you could just ask.” You pull back smiling.

His face flushes a light pink, his lips curling into a grin. “The night is still young, cupcake, how about we fix this?” He says, ushering to the chaotic room, lights still spinning and remains of the stereo scattered across the apartment.

He snaps his fingers and your apartment is restored to its former glory, this time covered in candles that illuminate the room in romantic lighting. The repaired stereo sits on your counter, soft jazz music playing. Gabriel playfully dances to the music, taking your hands and encouraging you to join him.

You smile, admiring his work and casually sway with him. He always did know a thing or two about style.

He leads you to the loveseat, skillfully pulling you into his lap. With another snap of his fingers, a tray of chocolate covered strawberries appears in front of you, as well as two glasses of strawberry champagne.

Gabriel is notorious for his love of sugar, always snacking on some kind of candy, even in less than appropriate settings. Lucky for you, you’ve always had a bit of a sweet tooth, and being with Gabe certainly promises more of where this came from in the future.

You take a sip of your drink, the sweet taste of strawberries dancing on your tongue. You smile, maintaining playful eye contact as you swallow. “This is nice Gabe, you should’ve started with this.” You chuckle.

He laughs and rests one hand on your hip, the other grabbing a strawberry. “Now where's the fun in that?” He teases. “Open wide, sugar.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

You blush at the innuendo, but do as he says, chuckling as he guides the tip of the strawberry in your mouth. “Mmm,” you hum in satisfaction as the dark chocolate melts in your mouth, mixing with the sweet flavor of the fresh strawberry, much sweeter than any strawberry you can buy from the supermarket.

Gabriel smirks at your reaction, taking the rest of the strawberry in his mouth, his eyes lighting up as he savors the flavor, tossing the stem aside. “You have a little something here, cupcake,” Gabriel says flirtatiously. He places his thumb on the corner of your lips, swiping a smidge of chocolate off, his finger lingering on your lips for a moment before he sucks the chocolate off his thumb, never breaking eye contact.

“Th-thanks,” you stutter, suddenly feeling hot and flustered.

“Don’t sweat it.” His eyes fixate on your lips, studying every curve. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” He asks in a soft, caring tone.

You stare at him in shock, his genuine compliment feeling out of character from his usually sarcastic, dickhead self. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you reply.

He grins like a cheshire cat and pulls you into a kiss, catching you by surprise.

You quickly melt into the kiss, all of your frustration from your failed date melting away. All that matters right now is Gabriel, and God does it feel so right.

He pushes his tongue in your mouth, tangling with yours. The sweet flavors of lingering chocolate and strawberry mix together in the most pleasant way, eliciting a moan from you that only spurs him on.

You tangle your fingers through his golden locks, lightly tugging on the ends, earning a groan from him. You grind down onto his lap as you deepen the kiss.

He reluctantly pulls away for air, both of you out of breath. “You taste so good, sweetstuff,” he purrs, letting his hands roam from your hip and down to your thighs. “But I want to taste you elsewhere,” he whispers seductively, sending a shiver of arousal down your spine.

“Please Gabe,” you beg, desperate for more.

Pleased with your reaction, he lightly peppers kisses from your jaw, down to your throat, licking and nipping as he goes.

You lean back, giving him access to every inch of your skin.

When he reaches your collarbone, he furrows his brows in frustration at the constriction clothes that hide your body from him. With a snap of his fingers, they’re gone.

You gasp, feeling completely exposed to him, but don’t protest.

He pulls you off his lap and kneels on the floor in front of you, sitting back on his heels. He drinks in your form, completely entranced in your beauty. “Like I said, Gorgeous.” He smiles like a kid on Christmas.

You blush profusely, but before you can respond, he kisses down your chest and takes your nipple into his mouth. You throw your head back and bite your lip to stifle a moan, the sensation sending arousal straight to your core.

He sucks and bites, lightly rolling the bud between his teeth and tongue. Once he’s satisfied with leaving you a quivering mess, he moves his way down. He kisses from your sternum, to your stomach, and down to your hips.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he places his hands on your thighs and spreads them apart, revealing your aching pussy to him.

“There’s the good stuff,” he says with a stupid smile that just screams ‘Gabriel’.

“You’re such a dork,” you retort playfully.

He gives you a flirtatious smirk, before placing kisses on your knee and working his way up your thighs, painfully slow, taking his time to tease you. He maintains deep eye contact with you as he inches ever closer to exactly where you need him most.

You tremble with anticipation, your body aching with arousal, craving him in every way possible.

He kisses to the crook of your thigh, biting down playfully, surely leaving a mark where his teeth dig into your flesh. He kisses right next to your pussy, painfully close, yet not close enough at all.

“Gaaabe,” you whine, tired of his teasing. You run your fingers through his hair and lightly pull, silently egging him on.

He smirks, enjoying keeping you on edge, desperate for him. “You gotta beg for it, sugar. Tell me how much you need it,” he says in a mischievous voice

You clench your jaw. He’s the trickster, of course he would enjoy teasing you. “Please, gabe,” you plead.

He raises his eyebrow, not satisfied with your feeble attempt.

You swallow your pride, the need to feel Gabriel, taking priority over your ego. “Please Gabe, I need you so bad. Please touch me!” You beg him, pulling on his hair.

“Much better,” he purrs. He uses his grace to pin your hands to your side and spread your legs wider, keeping you in place.

You whine in anticipation, trying to grind your hips forward, but you’re completely immobilized by his grace.

He laughs, enjoying watching you helplessly struggle. Deciding to give in, he licks a long stripe up your pussy and swirls tight circles around your clit.

“Oh, Gabe,” you moan, shocks of pleasure send through your every nerve.

He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking with the perfect amount of pressure to drive you crazy. The movements of his tongue goes from planned and strategic to sloppy and passionate, lapping up all your wetness like he’s a man starved.

A string of expletives fall from your mouth as your brain goes foggy, reality and pleasure mixing together and becoming one.

“Mm… sugar, you taste amazing, better than any candy I've tried, and I've tried them all.” He winks.

“God Gabe, are you trying to kill me?” You pant, your eyes meeting his, pupils blown wide with lust.

He scowls at the mention of his fathers name, but his expression quickly morphs into a cocky grin as an idea dawns on him. He presses his finger against your entrance, teasingly circling it, but never pushing in like you need.

“Please, no more teasing,” you pout, trying to grind down onto his fingers.

He scoffs, looking rather amused. “You have no idea how long you’ve been teasing me, sweetstuff. Seeing you going on dates with other humans, flirting with them right in front of me. This is just a taste of what you’ve put me through,” he says in a low, seductive voice. He pushes in the tip of his finger ever so slightly.

You bite down on your lip. You should feel bad about putting him through that, but all you can focus on right now is the way he’s teasing your aching cunt.

He slowly pushes his finger in to the first knuckle, before pulling out completely.

“No! Please!.. I need you,” you confess with wide eyes.

He smirks, getting exactly what he was looking for and pushes his finger all the way in, eliciting a deep moan from you. He starts slowly fucking you with his finger, building up pace until you’re a writhing, moaning mess.

You fight against his grace, desperately wanting to run your fingers through his hair and kiss him, but the struggle is ultimately useless against the overwhelming power of an archangel.

He pulls his finger out, and you whine in disappointment that’s quickly cut off by him shoving two fingers into you, fucking you relentlessly.

His fingers feel like heaven as that burning feeling builds in your stomach, the muscles in your body slowly tightening, reaching the point of no return. His name spills from your mouth over and over like a prayer, as your brain drowns in pleasure

He smiles, knowing just how close you are, and curls his fingers forward, pressing up against your sweet spot.

It’s all over as the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum harder than you ever have in your entire life. “Fuck! Gabe!” You moan loud enough for your neighbors to hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Every nerve in your body lights up, your walls spasming around his fingers as you ride out your high.

“There you go, sugar,” he coo’s, his eyes tracing over every inch of your body, thoroughly enjoying the show. Once you’ve come down from your orgasm, a panting and sweating mess, he releases you from his grace and sucks his fingers into his mouth, his tongue licking off all your cum. “Mm, I could get used to that,” he says with a cocky smile.

“Me too,” you reply, leaning your head back against the couch.

He shuffles onto the couch next to you, pulling you into his arms. He feels a sense of peace and happiness as he finally gets to be with the human he had fallen for long ago.

Bathing in the afterglow, you feel his hard cock pressing against your ass, giving you a sense of pride and a new pang of arousal. You palm him through his jeans and he groans at your touch.

“Woah, sugar,” he says, removing your hand. “We’ll get to that later. Trust me, tonight is far from over. But for now, you should relax. I’m here to take care of you, and if you let me, I'd like to be with you full time,” he admits, scared of being rejected.

“An archangel boyfriend? Count me in.” You smile, nuzzling your head against his chest.

He pulls you closer and hums in content.

Maybe the happiness you were searching for, has been here all along.

Masterlist

#gabriel x reader #gabriel supernatural #gabriel #Smut #fluff #supernatural #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fanfiction #gabriel fanfic

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kryptid-writes · 10 months

Text

Thank you!! :)

Chapter 1 - Dream a Little Dream of Me

Y/N has nightmares of a winged man haunting her dreams. When her dreams become reality, her world changes completely.

(1.3k)

The sound of wings rustling, knife slashing, and faded screams echo all around. The stink of metallic blood and rotting corpses burning my nose. I’m choking on the thick air, and it feels like my chest is caving in as my breathing gets shallower by the second. There’s blood everywhere. My eyes widen as my gaze falls on the mangled corpses upon the forest floor, each one twisted and bent in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Rays of moonlight pours through the trees, dancing across their mangled remains like some twisted classical painting.

I sink to the damp forest floor. There’s no escape.

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kryptid-writes · 10 months

Text

Chapter 16 - To Eternity (Lucifer's Ending)

Giving into her destiny, Y/N chooses to stay with her soulmate. One thing leads to another, and she learns exactly how the devil loves and what the rest of eternity with Lucifer holds.

(5k)

TW: this chapter contains smut

“It’s my choice, and I choose… Lucifer.”

Lucifer looks surprised for a moment but his demeanor quickly changes as his mouth twists into a cocky grin, his wings standing tall, all of his doubt washes away.

Dean and Sam stand in silence, staring at me with wide pleading eyes, looking as if their hearts have been ripped out of their chest and stomped on.

Sam’s brows furrow and lips press into a thin line. He stares into the distance, eyes flicking back and forth as he replays the words over and over in his head.

Dean on the other hand stands still as a statue. The only movement is that of his jaw grinding and his fist tightening and loosening repeatedly, itching to punch something, or rather, someone. No matter how much he tries to remain stoic, seemingly unbothered, I can read him from a mile away and all that I see is grief and betrayal.

Castiel stares down at his feet, shoulders slumped, looking disappointed, but not entirely surprised.

A pain radiates off of them in waves that set the room in an abysmal darkness.

I would give anything for the world to swallow me whole right now, put all this miserable business to rest. No matter how hard I try to do the right thing, I always manage to hurt someone I care about in the process.

Maybe that’s just who I am, the girl that destroys everything she touches. Perhaps, Lucifer and I aren’t so different after all.

“Y/N, no,” Sam says in a stern voice, shaking his head in denial.

I avert his gaze, a burning feeling of guilt growing rapidly in my gut. I can feel his disappointing stare burning a hole through my head.

“This isn’t right,” Dean says, grabbing my arm in a desperate attempt to get to me. “Please just come home with me, it’s not too late to change your mind.” His eyes fill with tears ready to spill any moment. “Please,” he pleads, his breaths coming in heavy and uneven.

“I’m sorry Dean.” I place a soft kiss on his cheek, it tastes salty and metallic from the tears and blood that muddle together on his face. I take his hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze, longing to feel his touch one final time.

He closes his eyes, tears breaking free and streaming down his cheeks.

I can’t help the tears that begin to prick my eyes as well. I knew this moment was coming, but I didn’t know it would be so hard.

“I’m so incredibly thankful for our time together,” I say to him. “And everything you all have done for me.” I turn to look at Sam and Cas.

They stare back at me somberly, Sam giving a curt nod, but quickly looking away in an attempt to keep his composure.

“Dean, I love you and I always will, but you have to let me go,” I say with a heavy heart, tenderly pulling my hand away.

He can’t find the words to say it, but with the look he gives me, I can see that he loves me too.

I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. Perhaps a bit of both.

I make my way back to Lucifer, looking up at his stunning crimson eyes.

He tilts his head and stares back at me with a look of pure adoration and love that I can feel deep inside me.

“Every moment of my life has led to you, and I'm done fighting it,” I admit. “I’m yours,” I whisper, placing my hand on his chest.

“I knew you’d make the right choice, my beloved,” Lucifer coo’s. He wraps his silky wings around me and pulls me into a loving kiss, pulling away after a few seconds to give the others a look that says, ‘I win’.

“Sorry boys, the angels made her choice.” He gives them a cocky grin and snaps his fingers.

The three of them are gone in the blink of an eye, leaving just Lucifer and I in the place we call home. The room is trashed from the fight. Shards of broken glass litter the floor, busted furniture strewn around the room, and splatters of blood painting the walls, a grizzly reminder of what had happened here tonight, a memory that will be burned into my mind for the rest of my eternal life.

“What did you do to them?” I snap at him in anger, tired of him hurting my boys.

“Relax, they’re fine,” he insists in a snarky tone. “They’re still in rural Ohio. We’re the ones who’ve moved.”

I make my way to the hole in the wall that once held our front door, it now sits splintered in pieces on the floor.

Lucifer follows close behind.

Stepping outside, I find myself on an empty beach, seemingly untouched by mankind, its natural beauty perfectly preserved. The golden sand sinks beneath my shoes, seashells and tumbled rocks sprinkled all around. The water is a stunning aqua blue with gentle waves of white foam lapping over the calm waters. The sun sets above it all, the reflection of the pinky orange skies painted over the water on the ocean, taking my breath away. This place brings me a sense of peace that makes me want to melt into it all, becoming one with the land.

“What is this place?” I ask, closing my eyes and breathing in the crisp salty air, listening to the waves crash and sea birds sing.

“Somewhere along the coast of South Africa,” he replies, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at me, seemingly not talking about the view at all.

“It’s perfect,” I whisper, meeting his gaze with an adoring smile.

“I’m glad you like it, but it’s only temporary,” he replies, fixing his gaze on the setting sun upon the horizon. “I’ve got bigger plans for us.”

“Bigger plans?” I question, taking his hand in mine.

“Of course,” he says as if it’s obvious. “We have an eternity together, the world is our oyster,” he smiles.

“Right,” I nod my head, warming up to the idea of spending the rest of my life with Lucifer, my angel. “Where do we start?” I look at him quizzingly.

“How about here?” he says, pulling me close and crashing our lips together. It’s soft and tender. The electric feeling of our graces blend together, becoming as calm as the ocean waves.

He catches me off guard by sweeping me off my feet and carrying me bridal style. I don’t protest. Instead, I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder, allowing him to carry me back to our bedroom with ease.

He throws me on the bed and passionately captures me in a kiss. His lips move hungrily against mine, our teeth, tongues, and lips hastily crashing against one another, but we’re too infatuated to care. His cold hand snakes up my body, leaving chills and goosebumps in their wake. It slides under the thin fabric of my shirt until he reaches my breast and tentatively palms me through my bra.

My breath hitches at the feeling of his large hands kneading at my sensitive flesh.

He presses his body firmly against mine, his aching erection in his jeans rubs against my inner thigh, so close to where I need him, yet, so far. His touch becomes more frenzied, trailing to other parts of my body with fervor. Frustrated with the multiple layers of clothes that separate us, he lets out a low growl and snaps his fingers, leaving us both completely naked and pressing against one another. The contrast of his cool skin against mine sends pleasant chills down my spine.

Despite his scruffy looks on the outside, he’s surprisingly muscular under all that clothes. The pale skin of his body perfectly compliments the gold and white tones of his feathers, making him look more ethereal than ever.

It’s my understanding that this isn’t his true form. That he’s simply occupying a human vessel. But there’s no doubt that the vessel he chose is certainly well endowed, to the extent it’s rather intimidating.

“L-lucifer!” I yelp, suddenly feeling all too exposed.

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he gives me a wicked smile and licks a long stripe up my neck with his forked tongue.

I lean my head back into the pillow, my body aching with need and my worries fading to black.

He finds a certain spot on the base of my neck that makes me whine from the sensitivity. He smirks. This is exactly what he was looking for. He bites down hard, his pointy teeth breaking my soft skin with ease.

“Fuck,” I hiss, trying to wiggle away from the sensation. My brain has gone offline, unsure whether it hurts too much or if it feels so good I crave more. Ultimately, I give into the latter, craning my neck to the side to give him better access.

He happily obliges, lightly kissing my neck around the bite where drops of crimson roll down to my collarbone. He peeks his forked tongue out of his teeth, then licks all of the blood that dribbles freely, cleaning my skin until all that is left behind is a pinky sheen from his saliva mixed with the remnants of my blood.

Part of me hopes that it will scar.

He lifts his head and captures my lips in a fiery kiss, forcing his tongue into my mouth. His cool tongue swirls around mine forcefully, pinning it down and proving who exactly is in charge here.

I moan as the rich metallic taste of blood dances across my tastebuds, a rush of exhilaration coursing through my veins.

Once Lucifer is satisfied, he pulls back, his eyes falling to my puffy pink lips, still wet from the saliva of our tongues clashing together. He quickly makes his way down to my breasts, pulling at my nipples until they’re perky, leaving sloppy kisses and light bites on each one of them. He continues to work his way down until he reaches my thighs, masterfully kneading my flesh in his hands.

“Say the words and I’ll stop,” Lucifer says in full seriousness. “Or, submit to me and I’ll show you what it’s like to be taken by the most powerful archangel.” A smile tugs at his lips as he gazes at me with dark lustful eyes.

I return his gaze and give him a nod. “Please,” is all I can manage to say, my mind clouded with lust.

He wastes no time and wraps his forearms against my thighs, pulling me closer so that I may not wiggle away.

I’m left totally and completely at his mercy.

He wets his lips with his long forked tongue, making me wetter at just the sight and dives in.

I whine as his tongue slowly and lightly drags from just above my clit, all the way down to my aching hole, teasing my body ever so slightly. My hips involuntarily arch off the bed, desperate to feel more.

He doesn’t take kindly to my squirming and slams my hips down onto the mattress, pinning me in place with one of his strong forearms, the other wrapping around my neck and squeezing slightly. He’s very careful not to hurt me. If he wished too, he could snap my neck like a twig, right here, right now. Instead, he squeezes just light enough to restrict my oxygen and make my head go fuzzy, but still allow me to breathe.

His tongue runs circles over my clit, sending wave after wave of arousal to my core. I can practically feel myself dripping onto the satin sheets of our bed. Each split end of his tongue explores both sides of me at once, driving me crazy in ways I can’t explain, and he’s clearly enjoying the power he has over me, how he can make me into a mess with such ease.

“Luce, Luuuuuce,” I whine desperately, barely able to recognise my own voice. I squeeze down around nothing, my body craving to be filled by Lucifer in any way possible. I just need something.

Of course he picks up on this, exploiting our connection, and knows just what to do. His cold tingly grace creeps up sound my thighs and probes at my entrance.

My eyes snap open and meet his, glowing with passion.

He smirks and his grace slowly pushes into me inch by inch until I'm completely filled to the brim, rubbing against all the sensitive spots that make my mind go blank.

“Oh, fuck!” I yell, clamping down around the feeling, every nerve in my body tingling with pure pleasure and anticipation.

‘Shhh,” he coo’s, watching me intently like I'm some wounded animal in a nature documentary, and he’s the prey playing with his food before he strikes. He pulls his grace out slightly before thrusting back in, earning a deep moan from me. Experimentally, his graces pulses and thrusts in an unpredictable rhythm, leaving me completely unprepared for whatever pleasure he wishes to give me. His tongue returns to my clit, passionately swirling around sending shiver after shiver of arousal through my core.

“Luce, please! I’m gonna!” I moan, my body writhing beneath his tongue and grace. I teeter on the edge of orgasm as he takes my clit fully into his mouth and lightly sucks. “YES!” I scream, ready to let go at any second.

He pulls away with a devious smile before I’m able to fall over the edge.

“NO!” I plead with wide eyes, my body shaking in frustration as the most promising orgasm of my life was ripped away.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk,” he clicks his tongue in a mocking tone. “You’ve been a bad girl today, don’t you think? Running back to the Winchesters, putting yourself in danger,” he says in a voice that parodies concern.

“I’m- I’m sorry Luce, please!” I beg for his forgiveness, giving him the best puppy dog eyes I could muster.

“Hmm…” he says, putting his finger up to his lip and looking at the ceiling, pretending to be lost in thought. “How about this, you be a good girl for me, you don’t cum without my permission, and i’ll think about letting you cum when i’m satisfied with you.”

Before I'm able to form words, he flips me over so that I'm on my knees and forearms, face pressed against the pillow, and my body on full display for him. His rough fingers trails between my wings, down my spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake until he reaches my butt.

I hum in appreciation, trying to show my agreement with the plan.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Lucifer taunts. He lands a hard smack on my ass, surely leaving a red handprint in its place.

“Yes Luce!” I squeak, trying to keep my body still for him.

“Good girl,” he praises, striking another smack on my other cheek.

I whimper in response, my eyes glazing over with tears of pain and pleasure.

He makes his way down to my pussy, spreading it open to really admire it. “Of all my fathers creations, you, my dear, are by far the most beautiful.”

My heart swoons at his words.

Once he’s had his share, he runs his fingers over my pussy, gathering up my slick. “All of this because of me, love?” he teases. “You really are a dirty girl.” He plunges two fingers deep inside me, twisting and thrusting perfectly.

A series of moans fall from my mouth that I barely even register. It’s like my mind has gone blank and my body is completely fuzzy in the most pleasant way. Nothing else matters right now. Just Lucifer. Just me. I’m easily able to hold myself from falling off the edge until he reaches a certain spot.

“Ah!” I cry out as his fingers brush against my G-spot ever so slightly. My hips buck against his fingers, my back arching, and my wings stretching out to their full extent. I don’t have to see him to know he has that signature smirk as he watches me moan and writhe from just his fingers.

He finds that angle again and rubs over the spongy spot repeatedly, each time applying more pressure.

I grip the sheets in my hands, my knuckles completely white from gripping it so hard. I clench my muscles and close my eyes, focusing with all of my strength not to come right then and there. “Fuck! I’m gonna!” I warn, trying desperately to fight back the feeling.

“Don’t you dare fucking cum without my permission,” he hisses, grabbing a fistfull of my hair and yanking my head back, his fingers picking up their pace.

Not wanting to feel the wrath of Satan from breaking his rules, I hold back, my whole body shaking with anticipation and overwhelming pleasure.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally removes his fingers, leaving my walls clutching around nothing.

I whine, both frustrated that I didn’t get to cum and happy that I didn’t cum without his permission,

“Good girl,” he praises, running his fingers through my silky wings in a pleasurable way. “I think you’ve earned your reward.”

Without even a warning, he flips me onto my back and slams into me, burying his cock all the way to the hilt.

“Oh God! Feels so good!” I cry out, savoring the pain and pleasure that his thick cock provides me..

“My father has nothing to do with this,” he growls, pulling out almost all the way. “This. is. all. me,” he says, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust. “You will be praying to me from now on, do you understand?” His eyes glow red with passion and a drive for power.

“Yes, Lucifer! Anything for you,” I scream, thrusting my hips up to meet his with each stroke.

“You’re mine. All mine. A divine gift from Heaven just for me. My soulmate.” he growls, his pace picking up.

I can feel my orgasm building as each stroke is angled just perfectly to rub against that amazing spot. My grace burns hotter and hotter by the second, reaching out to his cold one, desperate to feel them dance together once again.

He plays my body like a fine tuned instrument, and he’s putting on a symphony.

“Yell my name, tell the world who you belong to, Y/N,” he demands with a particularly harsh stroke that sends shocks of electricity up my spine.

“LUCIFER! I BELONG TO YOU LUCIFER! NO ONE ELSE!” I scream, my throat dry from all the yelling and panting.

“Good girl,” he praises, bringing me into a passionate kiss. His grace tangles with mine, the perfect contrast in feeling bringing me to the edge, taking everything in me not to give myself over to the promising orgasm that calls my name.

He’s close too, I can sense it.

“Cum for me beloved,” he says in a soft voice. He stares intently in my eyes, gripping my wings and twisting the feathers in the way he knows will drive me crazy.

The dam finally breaks and my orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave that pulls me under the water, drowning me in pleasure. My grace explodes outward as he does the same. The lights flicker and the room shakes, both of our eyes glowing a dazzling red. Our grace’s coil together, the electric feeling buzzing from our head to toes. This time when it settles, it doesn’t feel like two separate entities. Instead, it’s like two ends of a wire touching to complete a circuit. it finally feels whole.

Collapsing on top of me, he rolls us to our side and pulls me against his chest, gently running his fingers through my wings. He cuddles me close, holding my head to his chest as we bathe in the afterglow. I listen to his heart beating, enjoying the hum of our graces in harmony, and match my breath to his steady breathing. Everything just feels so right.

How could I ever deny him again? He completes me. We complete each other.

“Y/N?” he asks, pulling me out of my peaceful daze.

“Hm?”

“Don’t ever leave me again,” he says in a calm but possessive voice. “Promise me that, beloved.” He wraps his wings around us like a protective cocoon, his soft feathers pleasantly grazing my bare skin.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I nuzzle my face into his chest, finding comfort in the warmth of his glowing skin. “I promise,” I assure him, closing my eyes in relaxation.

“Good,” he sighs, allowing himself to relax again.

“...I see through it all, you know,” I say, catching him slightly off guard in the sudden change of subject. “You pretend to be this evil wrathful archangel, but you’re not.”

He quietly scoffs at the notion.

“You’re just hurting. Everyone you've ever cared about has left you. Your father. Your brothers. But not me. Even the Devil deserves love. You deserve to be loved, Luce, and I'm going to be the first to show you that.”

He looks at me surprised, never having heard such kind words before. “I love you Y/N,” he says, pulling me closer.

“I love you too Luce.”

For a moment we both sit in comfortable silence.

He stares at the ceiling, like he’s mustering up the courage to say something that’s heavy on his mind. He breaks the silence with a sigh. “I was going to give you more time to adjust, but I just can’t wait anymore.” His eyes meet mine, lighting up with anticipation. “Tomorrow we return to Hell where you will rule by my side.”

“I’m sorry, WHAT?” I snap, sitting up and looking at him with wide eyes, mouth falling agape.

“Well, I’m the King of Hell -new and improved- and naturally, that makes you my Queen,” he says in a tone way too nonchalant for the news he just dropped on me. He smiles, finding my reaction rather amusing.

I think for a moment, sitting in shock. The Queen of Hell? I’m just a girl. I don’t know the first thing about royalty, let alone ruling the forces of Hell. A thousand thoughts run across my mind at once. I ponder the idea for a moment before giving in.

“I accept.”

“Really?” He asks, clearly not expecting that answer.

“Under one condition.”

“Go on…” He says, eagerly waiting to see where I'm taking this.

“You have to stop hurting my people on earth, including the Winchesters. These are my people and I’m going to protect them for as long as I'm kicking.” I lift my head up with determination, ready to fight tooth and nail for my cause.

“A diplomat already? you’ll make a great leader,” he says with a cocky smile. He thinks for a moment and nods. “I accept.”

And with that it’s decided, for better or worse, tomorrow I become royalty.

------------------------------------------------------------

“So this is Hell?” I ask skeptically, my eyes wandering as we make our way down the winding hall toward a set of large golden doors.

“Part of it, yes.” He walks with one hand in his pocket, the other around my arm.

“It’s not exactly what I was expecting.”

Lucifer glances at me with a cocked eyebrow. “And what exactly were you expecting?”

“I mean, where's all the fire and demons with pitchforks? Shouldn’t there be a lot more screaming?”

Lucifer laughs. “Bit outdated, don't you think?” He chuckles. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the theatrics of traditional torture, but there’s other ways to torment people. We like to keep it creative.” He flashes me crazy eyes for a moment before returning his gaze to the doors we’re rapidly approaching.

“Right…” I chuckle awkwardly, still a bit freaked out about being in Hell of all places. Compared to the demons and sinners that reside here, a goody two-shoes like me sticks out like a sore thumb. I can’t help but feel like an imposter.

“Here we are,” Lucifer says, stopping at the heavy golden doors. Two demons dressed in high end suits stand tall at the doors, holding it open for the both of us and averting their eyes out of respect, or maybe fear.

“Wow,” is all I can say as I enter the room.

The walls go as far up as the eye can see, each section illuminated by stained glass windows with the depiction of Hell's greatest hits - many of which starring Lucifer himself, no doubt to please his ego.

Red light pours through the windows, bathing the room below in a colorful wash of crimson. The walls and floor are made of black obsidian blocks, streaks of red marble decorating them like a battle of bloodshed had just occurred.

Half a dozen demons stand post on either side of the room, so still that they could be mistaken for statues.

And in the middle of it all is an intimidatingly large throne made of pure gold, sculpted to resemble an army of snakes standing high above the room.

“This is incredible, Luce,” I say, turning on my heels to look around in wonder.

“Oh, my love, this is just the beginning, I have so much to show you.”

My eyes light up. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

“Buuut, we can start with this,” he motions to a section of the throne room that stands out from the rest.

Along the interior walls is an open room designed specifically for me. There are large bookshelves that tower at least 10 feet in the air with the library of books he had accumulated at the house, my favorite books organized in alphabetical order, as well as a large red velvet chair to read them in.

Hundreds of records line the walls, each of them an album that I've enjoyed at one time or another, some that I'd even forgotten about, accompanied by an old fashioned record player playing a classic that I've listened to a hundred times over; “I came back to let you know, got a thing for you and I can’t let go.” I hum along to the music, swaying my hips ever so slightly as I explore the rest of the area.

Most surprisingly, is a shelf dedicated to hundreds of trinkets from throughout my life. The seashells I collected on my road trip through the west coast. A little clay bird I sculpted as a child and gifted to my mother. The floral porcelain teacup I drank out of religiously as I studied for finals. And even the diamond ring that’s been in my family for ages.

“How- how did you get all this?,” I ask, my eyes sweeping over everything, discovering new clever details and secrets.

“I have my ways,” he says ominously. “I knew you’d like it.” He smiles, puffing his wings out in pride. He takes my hand and guides me to the towering throne. He takes a seat, propping himself in a pose that demands respect, and pulls me onto his lap with ease.

I relax against him, resting my head on his shoulder and crossing my legs. I run my hand over his fingers, mindlessly toying with them as I find myself lost in thought.

“This is so much better with you here. It just feels right,” he says with a satisfied sigh, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me closer to his chest.

“Yeah, surprisingly, it does.”

“Makes you wonder if this was God’s plan all along?” He smirks. “That old bastard finally did something right.”

“He does work in mysterious ways,” I chuckle, having that lesson slammed in my face over the past few months of my life. I snuggle into his chest with little care for what the demons may think, it would be a deathwish for them to even look my way without permission.

“This calls for a celebratory drink, don’t you think?” He winks. Putting his fingers up to his mouth, he whistles so loud that it leaves my ears ringing.

After a few moments a stocky man begrudgingly walks into the room carrying a tray of drinks. He has short dark hair and well groomed facial hair that suits his jaw nicely. He wears an all black suit with a gray tie and a look on his face that screams ‘I’d rather be anywhere but here’. He stops in front of the throne, squinting his eyes and sending Lucifer a glare that could kill, but he doesn’t dare step out of line.

Lucifer beckons with two fingers, motioning for the man to step closer and hand out the two fancy glasses of amber liquid.

He clenches his jaw, but reluctantly hands Lucifer his drink. His face is flushed a light shade of red, practically fuming with anger and humiliation.

“Good puppy,” Lucifer snarks with a devious smile.

The man looks like he’s fighting the urge to strangle Lucifer with his bare hands but decides against it, as anyone who values their life would. He hands me my glass with less anger, looking more intrigued with me than anything.

“Thank you…?” I give him a questioning look, waiting for him to introduce himself.

“Crowley,” he states, straightening his posture and giving me an enchanting look. “At your service, my dear.” He takes my hand and lightly kisses the back of it. There’s a sort of charm to him I can’t explain.

I smile back politely, happy that I may have a new friend in this dreary place.

“That’s enough of that,” Lucifer sighs, and with the flick of his wrist the man goes flying across the room, hitting the wall with a loud smack. Blood drips from the back of his head, but it doesn’t seem to phase him much.

“Lucifer!” I scold him, lightly hitting him on the chest.

“Don’t mind him, he’s still in training.” He rolls his eyes and continues our conversation like he hadn’t just hurled someone across the room.

“This is too us.” He lifts his glass in a toast. “To eternity.”

“To eternity,” I repeat, clinking our glasses together with a smile.

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kryptid-writes · 10 months

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Chapter 15 - Defying Fate (Dean's Ending)

When Y/N must make a choice, she chooses to defy her fate and be with Dean Winchester. After a steamy exchange and a heartfelt apology, she’s ready to start the rest of her life with the Winchesters and their beloved angel.

(5.5k)

TW: this chapter contains smut (and my first attempt, at that)

“It’s my choice, and I choose… Dean.”

His eyes light up as he looks at me in disbelief, as if this was all some dream he would wake up from any minute.

“How… how could you?” Lucifer stares at me in despair, his lip quivering ever so slightly. His wings frill out, feathers standing tall like that of a cat about to pounce.

“Luce…” I look at him ashamed. I can physically feel his pain inside of me, the growing storm that tears him apart from the inside like an unstoppable tsunami. The boy who’s never felt love before until I came along, the boy who’s lost everything, and now, he’s lost me too.

“I love you!” He declares, shaking with anger and eyes glaring a frightful red. The room starts to rumble, lights flickering, and books flying off of shelves.

“If you truly love me, you’ll let me go.” I pull him into one last hug. The feeling of electricity burns between us, but this time it isn’t passionate and loving, it feels painful and unstable, ready to explode at the drop of a pin.

He shakes his head in defiance, “He’s human, he’ll die, and in the end, you’ll always come back to me,” he growls, pulling me as close as possible, scared to ever let go.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to my level, our noses touching. His red eyes gaze into mine, glazed with tears. I place a soft kiss on his lips, one last reminder of our love.

“Goodbye Luce,” I whisper. I slowly pull away, turning to Dean, Sam, and Castiel, all of them a bloody mess, but looking pleased with my decision. As I pull away, he desperately grabs my hand tight, turning me around to face him.

“I’ll never stop looking for you,” he says, his voice broken and shaky.

“Then I guess I’ll see you around.” I smile softly.

His wings hang limply at his side in defeat. He reluctantly lets my hand go and it drops by my side, the fuzzy feeling fizzling away.

Sam gives Castiel a questioning look, which he returns with a curt nod, before slamming his bloody hand onto the Enochian sigil he smeared on the wall. There’s a bright white flashing light that fills every inch of the room, similar to what I imagine the surface of the sun is like.

I cover my eyes with my forearm, to keep myself from going blind. I hear Lucifer yell behind me, and a burning feeling builds in my chest, the feeling runs through all my veins but passes within a matter of seconds, all that’s left is an unpleasant high pitched ringing noise.

“What the Hell was that?” I whip my head around to face Sam and Dean, looking at me relieved.

“An Enochian sigil, it temporarily banishes angels out of range,” Sam replies, quickly wiping his bloody palm off on his scuffed up jeans. The red smear blends in with the rest of the bloodstains caked on his clothes.

I look around the now much emptier room to find that both Castiel and Lucifer are nowhere to be seen. “What about Cas?”

“Cas is fine,” Dean assures me. “He’ll find his way home. He always does,” he chuckles, but immediately regrets it, clutching at his ribs.

I rush to his side, tentatively wrapping an arm around his shoulder to help him balance. He’s in bad shape.

“Thanks Y/N/N.” He gives me a genuine smile, showing off his blood stained teeth, and wraps his hand around my waist.

I snuggle up close, our bodies pressed up against one another and I can feel him relax just a little. “Wait,” my face scrunches up in confusion, my body going stiff, “I’m half angel. How did you know that I wasn’t going to be banished as well?” I shoot them a skeptical look.

Sam took in a sharp inhale through his teeth, glancing at Dean awkwardly. “Yeah, well we didn’t, not exactly,” Sam says, stumbling through his words.

“It was a fifty-fifty shot.” Dean shrugs, then looks at me with a cocky smile.

I roll my eyes. “It’s good to be back,” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Let’s go home.” I smile, carefully walking Dean out the door.

I take one last look at the house behind me that now holds memories, both good and bad. I mentally say goodbye to both the house and Lucifer. This won't be the end, that I’m sure of, but for now I get to live the life I so desperately crave.

The door opens with a creak and I help Dean shuffle into the back of the impala, he winces as he settles in his seat. The blood from his wounds and clothes smear the leather. He looks at it in dismay, but decides to wave it off for the time being. Bigger fish to fry, and all that.

Sam takes his seat behind the wheel, adjusting the mirrors to allow his tall form to see properly. Dean is by no means short, but compared to his younger brother, he could very well be a hobbit.

I slide in next to Dean in the backseat. Given that his old 67’ Chevy Impala has no seatbelts, he’s in no shape to be back here alone. Someone has to keep his ass from being tossed around at every bump and curve. As much as he tries to hide his pain, I can tell that even just breathing is excruciating for him.

I pull him in close, wrapping my wing around his back. He rests his head on my shoulder. I can feel the soft puffs of air tickling my neck each time he exhales, it’s calming and I allow myself to relax knowing that Dean Winchester is safe by my side.

The rest of the drive is calm and silent. Not a bad silence that leaves you feeling on edge, but a comfortable silence that we all seem to melt into, knowing that everything is going to be okay.

------------------------------------------------------------

“Ah, fuck,” Dean curses under his breath.

“Hold still, I’m almost done.” I bite the tip of my tongue as I focus on carefully stitching up the cuts along his arms where shards of broken glass had sliced him in Lucifer's rage. I’m an amateur at this, never had to hand stitch a wound before in my life, but Sam insisted that Dean and I have some ‘alone time’.

“In… and out,” I mutter to myself, dragging the curved needle through one edge of the flayed skin to the other, not unlike the countless times I've had to stitch up holes in my clothing. “And… done!” I chirp, tying off the end of the thread into a neat little knot. I smile, quite pleased with my work.

“Thanks doc, feeling better already.” Dean gives a chuckle that turns into a wheeze. He tries to stand from his spot on the edge of the bed, clutching at his broken ribs in pain.

“Not so fast, hotshot.” I gently guide him back down onto the bed and kneel at his feet, inspecting his abdomen for the full extent of the damage. I carefully press two fingers to his lower ribs, leaving feather light touches to the tender area. I can feel the edges of a broken bone poking under the skin.

He winces at my touch, sucking in a tense breath. His face twists up in pain with each movement of my hand.

“He got you pretty bad, huh?” I tilt my head, moving my hand to the other side of his ribs.

“Eh, I've had worse.” He shrugs, trying to remain stoic.

“I’m gonna try something,” I mutter, not entirely sure if I'm talking to him or myself.

His eyes snap open, meeting mine in panic. “You’re gonna wh-”

“Breath in,” I say, cutting him off. Before he has the chance to protest. I close my eyes and picture his ribs mending back into place. The warm buzzing feeling builds in my stomach and flows through my veins, and in a matter of seconds the sound of bones popping rings out.

“SON OF A BITCH!” Dean yells, fisting the bed sheets so hard the threads loosen under his grip. His breaths come out labored, but his ribs are completely healed, the purple bruises disappearing like they were never even there to begin with.

“See? You’re fine, you big baby.” I smile and pat him on the shoulder, happy that my test run had worked.

He looks at me through furrowed brows, clearly annoyed, but his face softens into an appreciative look. I push myself to my feet and shuffle into the bathroom. I fill a bowl with warm soapy water, grab a white fluffy towel, and return to the room, this time taking a seat next to Dean on the side of the bed.

“Thank you,” Dean says, inspecting his now perfectly healed ribs.

I give him a polite smile and nod. I dip the towel in the bowl, soaking up the warm water and carefully dab it on his chest, where the majority of blood stains his skin. Carefully, I clean his skin inch by inch, taking my time to make each muscle glisten under the soft bedroom lights. I can’t help the grin that tugs on my lips. Something about Dean is so intoxicating and his body is reminiscent of an ancient greek marble sculpture, chiseled to perfection.

He hums in appreciation, occasionally turning his arms and chest to give me better access to the more difficult to reach areas.

I mindlessly work my way up until I reach his stunning face. His mouth and chin are still coated in a layer of dried blood from coughing it up relentlessly only an hour ago. A bold idea flashes across my mind and in my second of bravery, I move my knees on either side of him, essentially straddling his lap. Our eyes lock and there’s a spark there that burns bright, an unspoken longing for one another. I lift the towel to his face, gently dabbing the blood off his stubbly chin.

His dazzling green eyes stare at me in wonder and disbelief, like he couldn’t comprehend that this is all really happening.

“I’m here Dean. I’m real,” I assure him with a soft smile.

His hand tentatively reaches up to cup my face, his calloused thumb caressing the apple of my cheek, the skin flushing a rosy pink.

I lean into his touch and move the towel to his lips. I carefully dab each of his chapped and bloody lips until they’re clean, restoring them to their plump, pink nature. I can’t peel my eyes away from admiring just how enticing they truly are. I break away from his hold, suddenly feeling ashamed.

“I’m sorry Dean.” I let out a long sigh, averting his gaze and staring at my lap.

He looks at me puzzled.

“For everything - the fight, turning myself in, Lucifer, all of it…” I sniffle, tears burning my eyes. “I’m just so sorry.”

“Hey, look at me,” he says in a calm, but stern voice. He takes my chin in his fingers, lifting my head up to look him in the eyes. “It’s okay, all of it.” He wipes my tears away with his thumbs. “I’m sorry too. I said - I did some things I regret. Every moment we spent searching for you, all I could think was the terrible things I said and how it might be the last thing you ever heard from me. It was tearing me up inside,” he admits.

“Dean-” I say with a sense of guilt.

“Don’t,” he cuts me off before I can even start. “All I'm saying is, it's okay. Let’s call it a fresh start for both of us.” He gives me a reassuring smile.

I nod, feeling a weight lifted off my shoulder. My wings relax, much of the tension relieved from my muscles.

“So… where do we go from here?” Dean asks, lifting his eyebrow in question.

“Well, if you’ll have me.” I swallow down my anxiety and force myself to spit it out. “I want to stay here… with you.”

Dean’s eyes light up like a kid at Disney World.

“I love you Dean Winchester,” I blurt out before I have the chance to talk myself out of it.

He blinks rapidly like he’s just hearing things. “You- you really mean that?” He asks with a heavy heart.

“More than anything.” I lean in so close that I can feel his breath on my lips.

“What about Lucifer? I mean, aren’t you his soulmate?” He says, trying to hide his scowl at the words coming out of his mouth.

“Screw fate, we make our own destiny,” I say in a breathy laugh.

“God I love you so much,” he says, colliding our lips together.

The kiss is soft, our lips slowly moving in sync, exploring these new feelings together. My heart swoons. Immediately I crave more. I lean into the feeling, deepening the kiss with a needy moan. I throw my arms around his shoulders, a hand trailing up his neck and tangling in his dirty blonde hair. I tug on it lightly and he groans in my mouth. I smile against his lips, pleased with his reaction.

He tentatively swipes his tongue along my bottom lip, silently asking permission for entry.

I happily comply, opening my mouth just wide enough to give him full access.

Without hesitation, he pushes his tongue in my mouth, exploring every inch of it until he has it memorized like the back of his hand. He tastes like whiskey and cherry pie with a hint of blood, a taste I just can’t get enough of. His tongue finds mine and they tangle together in a fight for dominance, a fight that ultimately I win.

I bite his lip, the faint taste of copper lingering behind and pull away for just a second to push him down on the bed.

He looks at me surprised with my sudden show of dominance, a sly smile tugging at his lips. He props himself up on his elbows, his eyes drinking in every inch of my body, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

How is it possible to be this fucking perfect? Dean Winchester is truly a gift from the gods.

I flash him a playful smile and experimentally grind down on his lap. His already hardening cock rubs deliciously against my sex. My wings quiver in pleasure. I can't stop the quiet moan that falls from my lips as he lightly thrusts up against me, the head of his cock brushing against my clit in the most perfect way. What I wouldn’t give to feel him without those pesky jeans in the way.

“Fuck baby,” he groans, tossing his head and screwing his eyes closed. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he says in a low husky voice.

I lean down, pressing our bodies together and resting my forearms on either side of his head, trapping him in this position, not that either one of us would ever want to leave.

He gazes at me through lidded eyes, his pupils blown so wide that nearly all of the dazzling green from his irises recedes into the black abyss.

“Then show me,” I seductively whisper in his ear, grinding my hips down again, earning a whimper from him.

This flips a switch in Dean. He grabs my hips possessively and pulls me upright on his lap.

“Off,” he commands in a dominant tone, tapping my hip with his fingers.

I waste no time and do as he says without question. First, I remove my shirt in one swift motion and unclip my bra, tossing them over my shoulder without care for the mess I leave behind. Then, I shuffle to my feet and wiggle out of my jeans, they pool around my feet and I kick them to the side, leaving me in just my underwear. I suddenly feel a bit self conscious and wrap my wings around my chest, concealing the most intimate parts of me.

“Don’t,” Dean says, gently grasping the flight feathers of my wings and moving them to the side. “You’re beautiful.” His eyes lovingly trail over my completely exposed body. He admires me like he’s watching the sun set for the very first time.

I blush profusely, hearing those words come out of his mouth does something to me, my heart flutters. Part of me believes that this isn’t even real, that this is just some dream I'm bound to wake up from and I’ll still be trapped in Lucifer’s bed. I mean, how could someone as perfect as Dean Winchester think so highly of me?

“I mean it Y/N, you’re the most beautiful creature i’ve ever seen,” he says in full seriousness, his eyes filled with adoration. He stands from the bed and strides over to me. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and kisses me passionately.

I melt into the kiss, my legs turning into jello. I can’t help but lose myself in the feeling, swimming around in the love and lust building in my chest.

He reluctantly pulls away for air, both of us struggling to catch our breath. Leaning in close, he peppers my jaw with kisses, slowly moving down to my neck.

I lean my head to the side, giving him better access, desperately needing more.

He trails the kisses down to the base of my neck, finding a particularly sensitive spot that makes my eyes roll to the back of my head. He sucks on the spot, eliciting an involuntary moan from me.

I gasp as he bites down, just light enough to not break the skin, but hard enough to hurt, followed by soft licks and kisses to soothe the pain. Surely it will leave a hickey on my neck, a subtle reminder of who I belong to now, who I’ve chosen to give all of my love to.

He hums as he pulls away, smiling as he admires his work. “Go lie down and spread your legs for me, okay sweetheart?” He asks in his deep husky voice, squeezing my hip assuringly.

I nod, unable to form words at the moment. That voice has always had a certain effect on me, but hearing him say those words to me leaves me practically dripping for him. I settle into the middle of the bed, resting my head on the soft pillows below. I turn to my right to watch him strip out of his clothes one piece at a time, never breaking eye contact with me.

Once he’s completely stripped of his flannel and denim, he slowly crawls onto bed and I let my legs fall open, exposing my black lacy panties to him.

“Good girl,” he coos, placing his forearms on either side of my body and capturing my lips in a hungry kiss.

I whimper into his mouth, his praise going right to my core.

He breaks away and resumes his passionate kisses on the base of my neck, slowly working his way down to my collar bone. Once he reaches my breasts, he looks me in the eye, his gaze full of lust, and twirls his tongue around my perky nipple.

I throw my head against the pillow and arch my back, savoring the feeling.

He wraps his warm mouth around it, lightly sucking and continuing to tease me with his tongue. He gives experimental nips and bites, keeping intense eye contact, gauging for my reactions. His hand finds my other breast and gives it a sensual squeeze. He gently rolls my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, applying just the right pressure.

“Mmm,” I hum in pleasure.

Once he’s had his fill, he kisses his way down my ribs and stomach until he reaches where I need him most. Looking at me with hungry eyes, he places a soft kiss on the inside of my thighs with a sly smile.

My breath hitches as he places a soft kiss on my clit through the thin fabric of my panties, so gentle that he’s barely touching me, but nevertheless it sends shivers of pleasure down my spine.

“Deeean…” I whine. I open my legs wider, wanting, no, needing him to do more.

“Shh, let me take care of you baby,” he coos in a hushed tone. He loops his fingers under the fabric and slowly slips my panties down, tossing them to the side. He admires my glistening pussy for a minute, studying it like he's preparing for an exam. His eyes flick up to meet mine, blown wide with lust.

I lift my hips up an inch off the bed, silently pleading for him to touch me, but he doesn’t give in until he’s had his share of admiring me like it’s the last time he’ll ever see me.

Once he’s ready, he lightly runs his finger down my slit, making me jump at the contact. He gathers up the slick, rubbing it between his thumb and pointer finger. “So wet already,” he teases, inspecting his fingers. “All this for me?” He smiles deviously.

I nod bashfully, butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

He stares at me intently and brings his fingers to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, humming as he tastes my wetness. He doesn’t stop until his fingers are completely clean of my arousal, savoring every last drop like it’s his last drink of water.

“Fuck baby, your taste is so god damn addicting.” He smirks. Without giving me time to respond he leans in and runs the tip of his tongue down my dripping pussy.

I whimper as his tongue brushes over my sensitive clit, my hips involuntarily bucking onto his face, but nothing could prepare me for what comes next.

He slowly traces down further, circling my hole with his tongue before pushing it in in one swift movement. He grabs my thighs, spreading them further as he moves his tongue in and out, fucking me relentlessly, flawlessly maintaining eye contact the whole time.

I grab the bedsheets with fisted hands, holding on for dear life, little whimpers spilling from my mouth, one after the other. A warm sensation builds in the pit of my stomach, growing stronger with every thrust of his tongue. God, what this man could do with his mouth is almost inhuman.

He hums in appreciation as he feels my walls growing tighter. He knows I'm close and he’s loving every second of it. He moves his tongue, running it up my slit until he reaches my sensitive clit. He swirls his tongue around it, taking the bud in his mouth and sucking lightly.

“Fuck,” I moan, as he sends me over the edge into an intense orgasm. The warm sensation of pleasure spreads through me like fireworks. I throw my head back, my wings stretching out as far as the bed will allow.

“That’s it,” he coos, admiring every twitch of my body and wings. “You’re doing so good for me sweetheart.”

“Deeeeeeean,” I moan as he helps me ride out the last waves of my orgasm.

He chuckles, pulling away and wiping my cum off his chin with the back of his hand. He pounces on me, kisses me roughly, shoving his tongue in my mouth. I taste my juices still on his lips, the flavors of me and him mixing together like the most intoxicating cocktail. He caresses my body with soft touches until I come down from my high. His rock hard erection presses against my belly, pre cum dripping from his slit.

“You think you can handle more?” He says in a gruff voice, looking at me with lustful eyes. “Think you can handle taking my cock?” he teases with a sly grin, taking himself in his hand and giving a few good strokes.

I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and pull him close. “Dean WInchester, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will murder everyone in this bunker,” I snap, returning his gaze with an intense passion.

His eyes widen in surprise, “You got it princess.” He chuckles.

He lines his cock up with my entrance until his head is just barely poking in. He looks at me in full seriousness, waiting for my consent.

I nod, desperately needing to feel him inside me.

He pushes in slowly, going inch by inch until he’s fully bottomed out inside me, filling me up so deliciously, our hips grinding against one another.

My back arches off the bed in ecstasy. He’s much bigger than I expected, his thickness filling every part of me better than any man I've ever had.

He stops, giving me time to adjust.

It burns for a moment but quickly fades into pleasure.

“Fuck baby, so tight,” he groans, capturing my lips in a passionate kiss.

“Dean, I need you to move,” I beg against his lips, clutching onto his broad shoulders, slick sweat already clinging to his peppered skin.

He pulls out halfway before slamming back into me, sending shocks of pleasure through my core, every nerve in my body firing all at once.

“Ah!” I moan far too loud. I smack my hand over my lips, terribly embarrassed at the sound that just came out of my mouth.

“No,” Dean commands, removing my hand from my mouth and pinning it above my head. “Let me hear those pretty little noises, sweetheart,” he growls in my ear seductively, fanning the fire inside me. He relentlessly pounds into me, his cock flawlessly dragging against the spot that drives me crazy.

I become a moaning, writhing mess underneath him, drunk on pleasure. My hips enthusiastically meet his with every thrust. An idea crosses my mind and I decide to put it to the test. I close my eyes and picture my grace wrapping around his cock and squeezing ever so slightly.

“Oh!” Dean moans out, his breath hitches and eyebrows furrow together. “What the fuck was that?” He looks at me bewildered.

“Do you want me to stop?” I ask, my voice laced with concern.

“God no, never stop.” He leans his head against my neck, leaving sloppy kisses along the sensitive skin, swiping his tongue over the bite mark.

I focus on working my warm buzzing grace over him, my strokes building up from soft and slow to intense and passionate. I feel the warm sensation twirling around inside of me as well, bringing us both to new heights.

He removes his hand from my wrist and slowly trails it down to my wing, caressing it ever so slightly.

I give him a questioning look before he grabs a handful of my silky feathers and gently tugs on them.

“FUCK!” I scream, the pleasure radiating from my wings almost unbearable. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I temporarily lose my grip on reality. “Where the hell did you learn to do that?” I ask, panting through the intense sensations.

“Cas may have mentioned it to me at one point or another.” He winks, clearly pleased with how effective it is.

I make a mental note to have a word with Cas about this later, but I'm pulled out of my thoughts by another tug and a particularly deep thrust.

“Please don’t stop,” I whimper desperately.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart” He pants, keeping his fingers buried in my wings. He picks up his pace, relentlessly fucking me into the matress, flawlessly hitting my G spot with every stroke.

My mind goes blank, the only thing I can focus on is the building sensation in my core filling me with pleasure at an intensity I've never experienced before. It’s a bit intimidating, but incredibly arousing. I don’t even notice the string of expletives mixed with the repeated moaning of his name that falls from my mouth.

I’ve had good sex before, but this? This is different. This is the kind of sex that ruins it for anyone else, not that I'll ever want to have sex with anyone but Dean Winchester ever again.

“Dean, fuck!... I’m gonna,” I stutter the words out as the warm feeling inside me builds hotter than ever before.

“Me too… cum for me baby, cum on my cock Y/N,” he groans in my ear. He gives my wings a harder tug and with one last deep stroke, it’s all over.

I scream as I cum on his cock, my orgasm ripping through me. My walls clamp down on him, wings fluttering against the sheets. My grace explodes, surging through us both, sending an intense electric feeling from head to toe.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” he moans as he cums inside me, the warm liquid filling me up.

“I love you too Dean,” I pant, my heart beating a million times a second.

“Never leave me again.” He looks me in the eye with full seriousness, searching my face for any sign of regret.

“Never,” I reply with a smile.

He collapse on top of me, and for just a moment, we become one. Love in perfect harmony.

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“He’s right, you know,” Dean says, tracing soft shapes with his finger on the skin of my sternum as we cuddle.

“Hm?” I question in a far out voice, still bathing in the afterglow.

“I won’t live forever, not like you.” He leans his head against my shoulder, draping his arm over me and pulling me close.

“I don’t care. It just makes every moment with you more precious.” I wrap my wings around him and place a soft kiss on the top of his head, his hair still damp with sweat.

He nods and weakly smiles against my skin, but I can feel his lingering doubt.

“Look at me Dean.” I take his chin in my hand and direct him to look at me, his doe eyes full of hope. “Nothing would make me happier than being by your side as you grow old, loving you until your dying days.” I give him a bittersweet smile, pulling him even closer.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says, pressing a soft kiss against my lips, seemingly satisfied with my answer.

“I love you too, Dean,” I coo, returning his kiss with passion.

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“To Y/N!” Dean cheers, lifting his glass to a toast.

“To Y/N!” Sam repeats with a smile.

Our glasses clink together, drops of whiskey spilling over the edges onto the worn wood of the library table.

“Welcome home,” Sam says, taking a swig of his drink, trying to hide the cringe on his face as the whiskey burns his throat.

“It’s good to be home,” I reply with a grin. I take a sip of my own, not how I usually would, gulping it down with haste. Instead, I gingerly take a small sip, savoring the flavor of my beloved Jack Daniels Whiskey like I have all the time in the world, because I do. I smile at the thought.

“Hello,” a familiar deep voice says from behind me.

I turn around in my chair to find Castiel standing no more than a foot away, clearly still having no regard for personal space since I left, not that I mind.

His crystal blue eyes fall on me, looking very happy to see me again.

I greet him in Enochian with an enthusiastic wave. For weeks I've been working on the pronunciation of ‘hello friend’ in Enochian, praying I'd have the chance to show Cas someday, a little piece of hope that kept me going since I left.

Castiel smiles wider than I've ever seen, breaking the usual stoic look he wears on his face. “I’m very impressed,” he praises, pulling me into a tight hug. His bloodied clothes are still sticky and wet, but that doesn’t matter at all right now, I'm just happy to be back by his side.

The brothers are taken aback, clearly surprised at the sudden affection from their usually distant angel.

“It’s good to see you again, Y/N.” He pulls away, flattening out his crinkled trench coat. “Sam, Dean,” he greets them both with a smile.

“So, what now?” Dean asks, lifting his brow and glancing around at us, his finger dancing along the rim of the glass.

“I want you to train me to be a hunter,” I say sweetly, fixing my posture and displaying my wings proudly.

“A hunter, huh?” Dean says, looking amused.

I nod, excited at the notion.

“A half angel would make one hell of a hunter,” Sam laughs, taking another swig of his drink.

“I’d be happy to assist you in honing your powers,” Cas pitches in.

“Let's get started,” I smile, finally feeling complete for once in my life.

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Tags: @roseblue373 @iprobablyshipit91 @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites

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kryptid-writes · 10 months

Text

Thank you so much!! I’ll be posting the last 2 chapters later today.

Chapter 14 - A Battle of Fates

When Sam, Dean, and Cas track down Y/N and Lucifer, there is an all-out battle that results in Y/N having to make the ultimate decision. Will she accept her fate and choose Lucifer? Or will she create her own destiny and choose Dean?

(4.4k)

The days with Lucifer fly by. Counting the cycles from day to night, I believe I've been here for about 3 weeks, but it feels like I've spent my whole life with him. Each day holds another exciting adventure that’s designed to keep me happy and busy. He’s created amusement parks, animal sanctuaries, extravagant balls, and fancy dinners, even taking me to my favorite plays and movies, all created out of thin air with the snap of his fingers.

It’s been incredible. Truly something out of a fairytale. But everywhere we go, it’s just him and me, Lucifer and I, the rest of the world be damned. I’m not dumb, I know he’s doing this to keep me isolated and safe from anyone that may want to steal me away.

“I have a lot of enemies.” He grabs my shoulders and looks at me in full seriousness. “Many powerful people that will use you to get to me. But I promise you this, I will never let anyone hurt you. Not now. Not ever,” he explains, confirming my suspicions.

I have no doubt that’s true. What better way to hurt the Devil than threatening the one thing in this world he loves, his Achilles heel, and God help anyone that dares come between us. But, I suspect he has ulterior motives as well, primarily keeping me from the Winchesters and their pocket angel. I can tell that he’s on edge, always glancing at the door, obsessively checking that each sigil is still intact, just waiting for them to burst in guns blazing.

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The house is secure, located in the middle of nowhere, and sigiled to high Hell. He’s careful. No one knows where we are, not even me. The odds of them ever finding this place are slim to nothing, that is if they’re even looking for me at all. The thought crushes me, feeling as if a little part of me has curled up and died.

I wonder where they are, what they’re doing, which monster they are hunting down this week, but most of all, if they miss me. I know it’s selfish of me to think that way. I put them through Hell, especially Cas, and they’re better off far, far, away from me.

Nevertheless, I've been practicing the demon exorcism Sam had taught me. I’ve got it down to a T, memorized every word and perfected each pronunciation. I'm ready for any demons that may cross my path. I can just picture the cheery smile on Sam’s face and the way he would squeeze my shoulder to show how proud of me he is.

I’ve even picked up my lessons in Enochian. I doubt Castiel would approve of my methods, but Lucifer has continued where he left off. He was surprised when I asked him, but happy to teach me the basic alphabet and meaning of the simple symbols. I’m still a novice, barely even able to decipher the simplest of writing, but I’m getting better by the day. I dream of seeing Castiel again one day and greeting him in Enochian. The surprised look on his face would be priceless and his kind smile would warm my heart.

Despite the wonderful time I’ve spent with Lucifer, how close we’ve grown, how much I truly adore him now, I miss my family… I miss Dean. The ghost of him lives in my mind. I keep expecting to wake up in the Bunker and see him in the kitchen drinking a beer and going to town on a tower of bacon. I miss his musky cologne and comfy flannels that are way too big for me but feel so right. I miss the way he would hold me at night and whisper that everything will be okay. My heart yearns for him, more than I thought possible. After the way things ended, the big fight that resulted in him storming out, the rage that burned in his eyes, I doubt that he would ever want to see me again.

“It’s for the best,” I keep reminding myself, trying to quell the feelings that seem to grow stronger with each moment that passes.

Lucifer knows. Despite how hard I try to hide my pain, he’s not oblivious, and the deep connection that we share sure doesn’t help.

“Y/N?” Lucifer asks, hugging me from behind, pulling me to his chest and resting his head on my shoulder like he often does.

“Yes, Luce?” I lean back into his chest.

“Somethings bothering you,” he states matter-of-factly, “talk to me.”

“It’s nothing,” I attempt to ease his suspicion, but it comes out less than convincing.

Uneasy silence hangs in the air as he thinks of what to say.

“Dean could never love you like this, you know.” He gently brushes my hair away from my neck and places a series of soft kisses from my jaw to my shoulder.

I freeze, turning rigid as a board. Hearing those words come from his mouth, it feels like the wind is knocked out of me. “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about Luce,” I laugh nervously, trying to brush off his suspicion.

“Yes, you do.”

A sinking feeling drops in my stomach, and I close my eyes, preparing myself for where this dangerous conversation may lead. As much as I adore Lucifer, he is anything but predictable.

“A little birdy told me what you and Dean have been up to.” He grits his teeth, trying to control his temper.

“A little birdy being you spying on me?” I bite back defensively.

“Besides the point.” He pulls me in even tighter, perhaps scared that I'll flee at any moment. “I know that you have feelings for that insolent human… I know that you miss him,” he says bitterly, face scrunching up in disdain. “Do you really think he misses you?” He snaps, knowing that it will cut deep.

“Luce…” I whisper, my voice trembling. It’s a thought that’s crossed my mind a million times before, a thought I can’t seem to shake.

“Y/N,” he spins me around to face him, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. His eyes comb over my face like he’s admiring a work of art.

“I’m going to show what it truly means to feel love.” He takes a deep breath. “I promise you that in due time, these feelings you have for that… Winchester,” he says in disgust, “will be a thing of the past. The only person you will crave is me.” He pulls me into a deep and passionate kiss. It’s not angry and possessive like I expected, but rather tender and loving.

I pull away, my lips puffy and cheeks flushed.

“He will never touch you again, do you understand?” He growls, his eyes flash a bright crimson red for a moment, before returning to their usual state. He wraps his magnificent wings around me in a protective manner, the silky feather brushing against my bare arms.

“Yes Luce.” I nod and rest my head against his chest. The sound of his steady heartbeat brings me a sense of peace and safety. Part of me wants to believe him. Part of me wants to forget the feelings I have for Dean Winchester and spend the rest of eternity with the angel fate has decided I’m meant to be with. But the other part of me wants to say, “Fuck fate,” and run into his arms, reuniting with the man I hold so dear. A storm of conflict brews ever stronger inside of me.

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“I want you to focus, I mean really focus,” Lucifer says, encouraging me.

I hold my hand out in front me, just a few feet away from the fireplace. I can feel the heat licking my palm. I screw my eyes shut and pour all my mental force into the flame that flickers weakly from the charred-up logs. My brows furrow and a bead of sweat runs down my face. I give it my all, but still, nothing comes.

“Ugh! This is useless!” I groan, dropping my hand down by my side in defeat. “Maybe I just don’t have grace abilities like you.” My mood fades from frustration into sadness, wings wilting pathetically.

“You think Rome was built in one day?” He replies sarcastically. “I’ve had millennia to perfect my grace, you just need some more practice.”

I shoot him a dirty look, but eventually nod my head in understanding.

“Now,” he clears his throat and steps closer until his chest is pressed against my back, the tingly feeling returning. “Spread your feet apart.” He kicks my shoes with his boot until they’re about a foot apart in distance, giving me better balance. “Hold your hand out. Stiffen your arm.” He lifts my arm into place, intertwining his fingers in mine and holding my palm forward.

The feeling is comforting, his large hands seem to fit perfectly with mine, the familiar electric feeling pulsing between us.

“Close your eyes,” he calmly instructs.

My eyes flutter closed, this time letting them relax instead of scrunching them up in frustration.

“Take a deep breath and imagine the fire growing clearly in your mind.” He rests his head on my shoulder, grounding me just enough to provide reassurance.

I take a deep breath in through my nose, and out through my mouth, instantly feeling a sense of calm wash over me. I picture the fire burning hot and growing several feet tall, the image in my mind so realistic that it feels like It’s really happening.

There’s a warm tingling sensation that builds in my stomach, growing ever so slightly. My hand shakes as a cold feeling wraps around my core. It’s Lucifer’s grace, a sensation I've grown quite accustomed to. My warm grace tangles with his, dancing in harmony. My grace is much smaller, more submissive to his. His grace is heavier and far more overpowering, like a cold ocean wave that makes my ears ring and blood hum.

“You feel that?” He whispers in my ear, the feeling of our graces merging together pleasantly surges through my body.

“...Yes.” I nod, holding back the groan that threatens to spill from my lips.

“Use it.” He kisses my neck, leaving a playful nip. “I know you can do it.”

His encouragement lights a fire in my stomach, and with renewed determination, I put my full focus into the task at hand.

The fire roars to life, burning to the top of the fireplace. The flames dance up to the chimney, the smell of crackling wood and thick smoke fills the room. A feeling of power surges through my veins, the rush has me instantly hooked, surely an addiction in the making.

“I did it…” I mutter to myself in shock. “LUCE, I DID IT!” I turn around to face him and my wings flutter in excitement, a happy grin on my face.

“I knew you could, my beloved!” He picks me up with ease and spins me around like I weigh nothing to him. His wings twirl around us, magnificent feathers flowing in the breeze. “I never doubted you for a second.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and stares at me lovingly. “I’m so proud of you.” He places a soft kiss on my lips.

“Mm…” I hum in content, happy that Lucifer, of all people, is proud of me. I melt into the kiss, the rest of the world fading into oblivion. I could stay here forever.

The soft clicks of a lock being picked is covered by the fire that still roars strong behind us and the blood rushing in my ears.

The door bursts open with a loud bang, the splintered wood hanging off the hinges. Light from outside pours into the dimly lit room, illuminating the three figures, their shadows stretching across the floor.

Surprised, I whip my head around to see Dean standing his ground across the room, Sam and Castiel looming behind him, all of them armed with angel blades.

“LET HER GO YOU WINGED BASTARD!” the familiar sound of Dean’s voice booms. Dean looks pissed, more than I ever could have imagined. This must be what monsters see in their final moments, truthfully, it scares me. His knuckles are white from gripping the blade so hard, ready to spring into action.

“Well, look who’s come to party,” Lucifer teases, holding me closer, surely leaving red marks where his fingers dig into the skin of my arms.

“Dean!” I call out. I never thought I'd see him again and my heart flutters at the sight. They came for me. They actually came for me…

Without giving it a second thought, I break free of Lucifer's grasp and make a beeline towards the Winchesters and their beloved angel, awaiting the feeling of being in their arms once again.

Before I even make it halfway across the room, Lucifer appears in front of me. I bump into his chest, stumbling back onto the floor.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” He shakes his head, giving me a disapproving look and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder like I'm just a child.

“PUT!... ME!... DOWN!” I demand, pounding my fists against his back. When this has absolutely no effect on him, I run my hands into his feathers and twist, remembering the reactions it elicited from him before. He growls, but refuses to let me down, his grips only growing tighter on me.

“Put the girl down, brother,” Castiel warns, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“Castiel, pleasure to see you again, come back for seconds?” He taunts him with a grin.

Dean takes a step forward, practically fuming.

“Stay!” Lucifer commands me, placing me on the ground behind him. He splays his wings out protectively in front of me, as if I'm the one at risk.

The tension in the room is so thick that you could cut it with a butter knife.

The sound of every window breaking around us, practically makes me jump out of my skin. Shards of glass fly in all directions, one piece just barely missing my face by half an inch. The sky that had been clear just moments ago, is now raining like we’re in the eye of a category five hurricane. Booming claps of thunder fill the room, followed by strikes of lightning that illuminate Lucifer’s wings in the most intimidating way.

Snapping out of my shocked daze, I completely disregard his command and try to run forward but find that his grace is holding me in place, essentially super gluing my shoes to the floor.

For just a moment, the three boys give each other a knowing look before they all swing into action.

Dean lunges forward, swinging the blade with full force. He aims for Lucifer’s head, but he flawlessly dodges the attack, his eyes flashing red in anger. But this doesn’t deter him, Dean’s unrelenting, like he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life.

Sam keeps himself fixed to the closest wall across the room. He drags the blade across his hand, creating a deep gash in his palm. Blood drips to the floor in abundance, creating a crimson puddle. He dips his finger in the liquid and quickly begins to draw a symbol on the wall with haste. I’ve studied enough to recognize that it’s an Enochian symbol, but I can’t decipher what it means.

Castiel stands a few feet behind Dean, his brow furrowed in concentration. He extends his arm towards Lucifer and his eyes glow a light blue. He chants quietly under his breath, his voice low and steady.

Dean continues his attack on Lucifer. With one precise swing, he slices Lucifer across the face. A cut on his cheekbone forms, blood dribbling from his cheek to his chin. Dean flashes him a cocky smile.

I struggle against his hold with all my strength, desperately trying to pry my shoes from the hardwood floor, but it's ultimately useless. I have no choice but to stand by in horror, watching the scene unfold in front of me with no way to stop it. The only thing worse than being in love with two men, is watching them kill each other right in front of your eyes.

Lucifer reaches up to his cheek, tenderly touching the wound that instantly heals shut with a white shine. He lowers his hand, looking at the blood that coats his fingers in anger.

“You’re gonna regret that,” he growls, lunging at Dean.

“I don't think so brother,” Castiel states, his eyes glowing a bright blue. With the power of his grace, he stops Lucifer in his tracks, forcing him on his knees and keeping him stuck in place.

Dean tilts his head, giving him a look that says, “I win.”

“Hurry Dean, I can’t hold him much longer,” Castiel groans, his body straining to fight off Lucifer’s powerful resistance.

Without a second of hesitation, Dean plunges the blade into Lucifer, his body visibly shaking with adrenaline.

“NO!” I scream out, my wings frilled in panic. With the attack, Lucifer's grip on me breaks and I rush to his side in an instant. I kneel next to him on the ground, lifting his limp head in my hands, his eyes closed and blood dripping from the wound where the angel blade remains buried deep in his flesh. I can feel the hot tears pricking my eyes.

Silence hangs in the air. Dean, Sam, and Cas anxiously waiting to see if they’re plan had really worked. After a few moments pass, they give each other a look of relief and collect themselves.

Their relief is short lived, as he opens his eyes and breaks out of Cas’s hold, more pissed than ever.

“You missed.” He smiles and pulls the blade out from the right side of his chest, dropping it to the ground with a clank, blood splattering the wood. Within seconds the wound is healed shut with a white glow. He stands from his knees and spreads his wings, towering far above the rest of us. “You should really aim for the heart next time.” He grins wide like a Cheshire cat.

All three boys exchange a look that practically screams, “Oh shit.”

With a flick of his wrist, Lucifer throws the three of them against the wall, pinning them in place. They struggle with all their might, but their efforts are essentially useless against his powerful grace. In a fight, archangel always wins.

“Sit, stay awhile.” he teases.

“Lucifer, no,” I beg, just wanting this nightmare to be over.

He wraps his arm around my waist but pays me no mind. He twists his hand into a fist and at once, both of the brothers’ writhe in pain, their body contorting in unnatural angles.

Dean and Sam groan, their faces twisting up in agony. As if it couldn’t get worse, they start to spit up blood. And not just a little, but a disturbing amount of blood pouring through their lips, staining their skin and clothes a blooming red. The sound of groans and coughing makes me sick to my stomach.

“Lucifer, stop!” I yell in horror. I bunch my hands up in his shirt, desperately trying to snap him out of his fit of rage. I’ve never seen him like this before, but I start to question if those stories about him are actually as true as they say.

“No!” Castiel yells in his gravelly voice, staring at the beloved Winchester brothers squirming next to him.

“Wait your turn, brother.” Lucifer snaps his head in his direction and shifts his hand towards Castiel. A white glow slowly burns inside Cas. It starts low in his chest but builds until the white light shines through his throat and eyes with a deafening ring that continues to grow.

“You really think she loves you? I mean, you?” Lucifer mocks, staring Dean down intently.

Dean tries to speak, but his words are undecipherable through the spluttering blood and groans.

“STOP!!” I pound my fists against Lucifer’s chest so hard that it would surely leave painful bruises on any normal human. But he’s not human, no, he’s the farthest thing from it, an archangel in a savage rage.

He continues his assault, the boy’s looking as if they’re on the brink of death, perhaps they are.

“You promised…” my voice breaks.

This pulls him out of his trance. He stops his brutal attack and turns to me, looking guilty and the slightest bit pained.

“You’re right,” he admits, getting his temper under control. He takes my hand in his and brings them to rest on his cheek, evening out his breath.

The Winchesters gawk at him, as if they can’t believe what they’re seeing. They cough and choke, but the waterfall of blood stops and Castiel ceases the blinding glow.

“You’re scaring me, Luce.” I step closer, my eyes wet with tears.

“Forgive me, love.” he looks at me with loving eyes, the man I love coming back to me, even if it’s just for a moment. He pulls me into a kiss. It’s soft at first, caring and apologetic, but it soon turns deep and possessive. He wraps his wings around me and looks over to Dean, holding eye contact, needing to see his jealous reaction.

“Leave her alone,” he demands in a hoarse voice, his face burning with anger.

I break the kiss with a light shove and look at him, my cheeks burning in shame. I can practically hear his heart breaking into a thousand shards.

“Or what?” Lucifer snaps, “What did you think was going to happen, hm? You’d just storm in here, kill me, and she’d come running back to you like some lovesick puppy?”

Dean musters up the strength to shoot him a look that could kill, but I could see Lucifer’s words were gutting him inside.

“Newsflash kid, Y/N’s my soulmate. We’re meant to be together, it’s our destiny,” he says, pulling me so close that my wings are pressed flat against his chest, wrapping an arm around me to secure my body in place.

Dean’s face becomes somber as he processes the information. I can see the internal debate going on inside of his head, one that I’ve had many times before.

“Is that true, Y/N?” Sam asks hesitantly.

Cas gives Sam a knowing look.

“Yeah, tell them Y/N.” Lucifer takes my chin between his fingers and forces me to look them in the eyes, unable to escape their awaiting glares, “Is it true?” He mocks.

“...Yes,” I admit, barely a whisper.

Dean’s eyes go wide, tears threatening to spill at any moment. His green irises flick back and forth, desperately scanning my face for any sign that I might be lying, that this is all some part of a masterplan to deceive Lucifer, but finds none.

“I’m sorry,” my voice cracks and I close my eyes in shame, tears streaming down my cheeks. I can feel Lucifer smirking behind me, clearly amused with this turn of events.

The room is quiet for a moment before something in Dean changes. His eyes harden and he lifts his head with a wave of confidence. “Yeah? Well, I say screw destiny. You can shove it up your feathery ass!” He spits in defiance.

“Give it up Dean.” Lucifer rolls his eyes dramatically, “She’s my mate, you can't have her!” He growls, his wings spreading to their full wingspan.

“Lucifer… that’s enough!” I warn, grabbing him by the shoulders, trying to get his attention, but he keeps his eyes glued on Dean.

“No, she’s not! She’s one of us now, she’s a Winchester!” He snaps back.

Hearing those words makes my heart flutter but it sends Lucifer over the edge. His eyes glow a red so bright that I’m sure the color will be burned in the back of my retina for days to come. He balls his hand into a fist and twists it sharply.

Dean screams as the unmistakable sound of his rib bones crunching and breaking under the angel's grace bounces off the walls, followed by a series of pained whimpers, drowned out by Sam and Cas’s protests.

“I SAID, ENOUGH!” my voice echoes around the room. With a sudden surge of grace, Lucifer is shoved halfway across the room. Dean, Sam, and Cas are released from his hold, falling to the floor. The storm stops and all is quiet for just a moment.

Dean clutches at his ribs and attempts to stand, but collapses onto the ground in immense pain. Sam and Cas rush to his side and help him to his feet, throwing his arms around each of their shoulders to help him stand. The three of them look at me in shock, Dean seemingly more amazed than the others.

Lucifer, on the other hand, is beaming, clearly impressed with my sudden surge in power. “Look at y-” Lucifer starts with a cocky smile.

“Shut up!” I interrupt him, shooting him a warning look.

“I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m some prize to be won!” I yell, angrily looking between the two of them, disgusted with the little show they put on tonight. I try to catch my breath as I collect my thoughts.

“I’m my own person, and I decide my destiny! Not you,” I turn to look at Luce, images of our amazing dates together play like a movie in my mind, how he makes me feel like I'm the only girl in the world, the only thing that matters to him, and the powerful connection pulling us together like magnets. I can just imagine spending eternity with him, exploring where my powers could take me, seeing how deep our connection goes, and what the next millennia together has in store for us.

“Not you,” I look at Dean. Memories of my nights with him flood back, the way he was always there when I needed him, the way he makes my heart flutter every time I look at him, the way I crave him in every sense of the word. It’s no use denying the feelings I have for Dean, and what I wouldn’t give to spend the rest of my days with him, watching him grow old and showing him what it really means to be loved.

“And definitely not fate.” I raise my head high and frill my wings out to their full extent, refusing to hold myself back any longer.

“It’s my choice, and I choose…”

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