#john winchester x eve

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 13

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: For those who didn't catch my announcement on Monday, I released Part 12 earlier this week! Now, on to a confrontation I think a lot of you have been waiting for...

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 7,200 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Attempted sexual assault. Protective Dean, angst, hurt/comfort.  

Part 13: “Boiling Point”

Usually, Christmas was your absolute favorite time of the year.

This holiday was a baker’s dream, and you and your grandmother used to volunteer at the church bake sale every Christmas Eve. Grandpa George had done his best to help you in the years after she died…but you just didn’t have it in you this year.

You considered it an accomplishment that you pulled down some of the decorations from the attic, putting them up around your house, and buying a little four-foot tree (also hauling it into the house yourself). However, you knew that you wouldn’t be alone on Christmas Day, at least.

Sam and Dean had already invited you over to spend it with them. You would have the chance to get to know Eileen better, and you would even get to meet the famous John Winchester…

But you still had one reason to dread the end of the month.

Nick Savage threw a Christmas party every year. It was equal parts celebration and networking, and as a top performer of the sales division, you were expected to come.

The problem was, this time the party was going to be held at his house.

“You can’t just not go?” Andréa asked, shortly before taking a massive bite of her burrito. The two of you were grabbing dinner together after another long day at the office, followed by a movie later.

You’d realized just how much you had missed your best friend.

“Yeah, that’ll be great for me. Josh will get to chat up the whole team and get them clamoring to kiss his dick. Nick will give him the Sales Manager position just to spite me,” you said, while picking at your taco salad. “He keeps pitting us against each other for his own enjoyment, but I swear to God he harps on me the most.”

Andréa frowned. “Are you sure Nick just doesn’t have a thing for you? It sounds like he’s a little boy, picking on a girl he likes.”

You pursed your lips. She still didn’t know the full extent on your boss’s thing with you. You hadn’t told her about the last time Nick cornered you in his office, dangled a promotion in front of you, and basically gave you an ultimatum: sleep with him, or don’t move up in the company.

You hadn’t told anyone, for that matter.

You were just trying to figure out how to not get fired, while still getting compensated for your hard work. Was that too much to ask? 

Apparently, it was.

“I don’t give a flying fuck what he thinks about me,” you said vehemently.

It earned your friend’s gaze, and her raised eyebrows. 

“Whoa,” she chuckled. “Easy there, Miss Congeniality. That’ll be sure to earn you the promotion.”

“No, really,” you said. You stabbed into your salad with a fork. “I’m so fucking sick and tired of having to tap dance my entire work life around him. He’s a goddamn child who thinks he can have whatever he wants just because Daddy gave him his own little kingdom!”

Andréa eyed you more with concern. Her hand reached for your arm. Meanwhile, you were forcing slower breaths through your nose.

“You okay?” she asked. “I don’t like the ‘crazy town’ look in your eyes right now.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “Just hangry, I guess.”

You took another bite of your food. Andréa gave you a skeptical look, but she let it go for now, with a smirk.

“Yeah, well. Eat a Snickers, bitch. I don’t need you snapping on me again,” she teased.

You rolled your eyes, but you had to laugh a little. You shoved at her shoulder.

She gripped her own arm in fake panic. “Someone call the cops! This crazy woman just punched me out over a salad!”

You tried to shush her, even though you were giggling. Your head swiveled around in the restaurant, giving apologetic eyes to the people around you.

“Although, $20 for a few sprigs of romaine lettuce and a sliver of chicken? That’s worth punching somebody the fuck out,” she said, throwing down her napkin. “Let’s never come here again.”

“Agreed,” you nodded. “I don’t think they’ll let us back here anyway.”

A few days later, you didn’t want to admit you were stressing out over this night.

“Have I said thank you? Because I mean it. Thank you for taking time off for this,” you said, smoothing down the nonexistent wrinkles in Dean’s blazer.

He looked good in black. It was classic, and the new suit was smart without being “too much” for him. (Sam had taken him to his “suit guy,” as Dean called it.)

Dean grabbed your arms to stop your slightly flustered hands. He smirked down at you as his eyes once again took in your dark red dress. It was simple and sleeveless, but elegant, falling just above the knee. Of course, you had to be wearing the tallest pair of black heels he’d ever seen.

“It’s no sacrifice, believe me,” he replied.

You smiled, but he noticed something behind your eyes.

“You okay?” he asked. “Seems like you don’t really want to go to this thing.”

“I don’t,” you admitted on a sigh. “But my boss will know if I’m not there…I told you about the open Sales Manager position, right?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Dean nodded. His smile slid into a frown as he watched you bustle around your room, looking for your purse while you smoothed out the soft waves you’d managed to style your hair in, checking your eyeliner and lipstick too in the mirror.

“As usual, it’s down to me and Josh,” you said. “If I keep my numbers up and use tonight to network with my own team, get the rest of the guys on my side, maybe Nick will see that I’m the right choice.”

Dean came up behind you, resting a hand on your lower back.

“And this manager job…that’s what you want?” he asked.

You turned to him with a questioning look. “Well, yeah. I’ve been working here for five years, busting my ass.”

“And I got no doubt that you’re good at what you do,” Dean said. “But you do know, there hasn’t been a day since I met you that you didn’t have something crap to say about that job, and those people you work with.”

You frowned, and you thought about what he was saying. Sure, you complained about Nick, but did you really talk that much shit about your job?

“Everyone has things they don’t like about their work,” you reasoned. “Even you have your bad days.”

Though he tended to keep those days to himself, you knew when he’d had a tough call at the firehouse. You’d been trying your best to be a listening ear if he needed it, or if not, at least a soothing presence. It was more often the latter with Dean.

He acknowledged your point with a nod. “Okay, fair enough. I don’t know…I just think you’re wasting your talent.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Sweetheart, you’re like…an artist. It’s nothing me, or Sam, or Andréa, or anybody in your life hasn’t told you before,” said Dean. “You went to school to do your dream. And I know life happened. But I also know that when I walk into the firehouse, it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be. Can you say that when you walk into the Savage building?”

You took in a breath. You understood what he was saying, but as much as you wanted to indulge the fantasy of owning your own business, being your own boss, creating your own menu, and giving people quality baked goods…you had to live in reality here.

Opening a brick-and-mortar business was expensive. And most restaurants, even bakeries, weren’t profitable for at least one to three years. You still had plenty of bills, and not even a car since the accident.

“I’ve invested too much time here to quit, Dean,” you said.

The conversation died there, but it left something new and awkward between you two. You tried to put it out of your mind while he drove you both over to the “filthy fucking rich” side of town, through a massive gate, and into a wide parking lot that had a valet driver waiting. Nick’s ridiculous house was a monument to trust fund kids everywhere. 

Dean reluctantly handed over the keys to the Impala.

“No donuts in the parking lot.” He eyed the 20-something-year-old valet with all due scrutiny. “Trust me, I’ll know.”

You smirked and slipped your arm around his to tug him up the steps, toward the large double doors of the house.

“Come on, Rambo. Baby’ll be fine without you.”

“You don’t know that,” Dean quipped back. Still, he moved his arm out of yours, just to wrap it around your waist and pull you against his side. His lips pressed against your cheek.

“You look sexy as hell,” he said lowly near your ear. “Did I forget to mention that?”

“No.” Your smile deepened. “But doesn’t hurt to mention again. I might just have to reward my boyfriend for humoring me tonight, getting all dapper himself.”

You and Dean made it up to the porch and you knocked on the door. He shot you a raised brow as his lips tugged upwards.

“Oh, yeah? We talkin’ lace or satin?” he asked. His lips brushed your temple.

You pretended to think. “Little of both, actually. It’s new. And it’s red…and I might just be wearing it right now.”

Dean’s brows shot up in surprise. His gaze subtly dragged over your every curve, as if he had x-ray vision to spy through your dress. You maintained an enigmatic smile.

“Oh, you’re diabolical,” he muttered. His hand moved down to playfully squeeze your ass. You had to bite your lip to stifle the sound you made, as that’s when the doors finally began to swing open.

Dean’s hand moved up a respectable few inches, resting on your waist.

You both smiled and greeted the attendant who let you into the house.

A quick text let you know that Benny and Andréa were already here, each holding a flute of champagne. You and Dean met up with them in the huge living room space (which might has well have been a grand hall, for how large it was).

It held 50 people easily, but the party was already spanning the entire house, of at least two stories. It made your house look like a modest Barbie Dream home, without the pool attachment.

And Nick Savage was at the center of it all, greeting each guest and their “plus ones.”

When he spotted your group, he smoothly excused himself from the conversation with Josh and his wife, and headed over to you.

“Incomiiing,” Andréa quietly sing-songed. She sipped her champagne.

You steeled yourself, and you did your best to give a polite smile when Nick arrived with a pleasant “Merry Christmas.” You forced yourself to remain still when his hand fell on your arm, and he reached out to shake Dean’s hand in greeting, followed by Andréa and Benny. 

“Welcome, you guys,” he said, giving you a smile that hid just a hint of a smirk. “Justin let you know where everything is, right? Lotsa drinks, the good stuff, I promise. Plenty of food, hot chocolate and eggnog fountains, if that’s your thing. And a hell of a lot more out back by the pool.”  

“Great, thank you,” you nodded politely.

“All right! Let’s party,” Nick fist-pumped in the air. He pointed towards you and Dean. “You need a drink in your hand, stat.”

“I’m fine for now. Going to wait until I have something to eat first,” you replied. If you were going to get a glass of wine, it wouldn’t be one that Nick handed to you.

He pouted a little, but he looked at Dean next. “How about you, big guy? What you drinkin’?”

Dean shot you a glance, but before he could respond, Nick interrupted.

“You look like a whiskey guy. Am I right?” he asked.

Dean inclined his head. “Guilty.”

“Perfect. See? I’ve got an instinct for people,” Nick said, tossing you a wink as he headed for the nearby bar. “I’ll be back. You crazy kids relax and have fun.”

You had to admit, he knew how to turn on the charm when he had to. But who the hell said crazy kids under the age of 45?  

“He’s uh…got pep,” Benny remarked.

Andréa snorted and tapped her glass. “He’s a few shots in already.”

“You think?” Dean asked.

You nodded in agreement, rolling your eyes. If there was one thing you could count on, it was for Nick Savage to be drinking.

“He knows how to act when everyone’s watching,” you said. 

You looked up at the high-vaulted ceilings and expensive artwork on the walls, not noticing how Dean glanced at you with the edge of a frown.

At the very least, the food was excellent. It was served in a large back room that served as a banquet hall, meant for entertaining.

There you and Dean actually had a good time, with you sipping on red wine and Dean on a glass of the “good stuff,” all while playing cards with Andréa and Benny and a few of your coworkers on the sales team.

“I just can’t believe Adam quit, to join our main competitor, no less,” said Marv. “I had absolutely no idea he was thinking of leaving.”

He was the team gossip. He prided himself on knowing every coming and going on the sales floor, which confounded you, since Marv was also a bit of a hermit. He either kept to his office like it was a bomb shelter, or you could catch him in the break lounge grabbing yet another coffee, all the while keeping his ear perked up for scraps of conversation.

“Yeah, you did, Marv,” you replied with a smirk. “You’re the one who saw Adam’s resignation letter on his own desk.”

He hadn’t even handed said letter to Nick yet.

“Well, I knew it then, obviously,” Marv said, with his hands open wide. “It leaves us without a manager…which I think, not for long.”

His eyes met yours knowingly.

You smiled. “We’ll see. I think Josh is playing kiss-ass tonight.”

You turned your head and spotted Nick and Josh taking shots of tequila together at the bar, with the latter wincing at the burn with a lime peel in his mouth. Josh’s wife was sitting off to the side, rolling her eyes.

Your gaze focused on your boss for a moment. You shook your head at the state of him, with a loose tie and the top buttons undone on his shirt, laughing boisterously and egging Josh on.

Fucking frat bros.

“That’s your boss, huh?” Benny remarked.

“In all his Cuervo-stained glory,” Marv replied. He shook his head as well.    

It made you realize something.

As nice a time as you’d been having, for about an hour at most, your good mood soured the moment you were reminded of the office politics. Of Josh and Nick and everything in between. Was this really what you wanted for the rest of your career?

The rest of your life?

Maybe Dean was right, you thought. You knew you were good at your job. You knew you were fortunate to even have a job that paid your bills…but maybe “being good” wasn’t enough for you.

If there was one thing you’d learned from your grandfather’s death, it was that peace was precarious. And sacrificing too many parts of yourself, for money, wasn’t a fulfilling life or even a happy one.

You wanted to be happy. You also wanted peace.

So you leaned over and laid a hand on Dean’s, which rested on the round table.

“Hey,” you whispered.

His head bowed near yours. “Hmm?”

“Wanna get out of here?” you asked. He raised his brows at you.

“Really? I thought you needed to stay and schmooze with your people,” he replied.

You smiled and drew your thumb across the inside of his wrist. “I think I’m done.”

Dean looked a bit confused. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. And you brushed your lips against the corner of his mouth. “You were right. It’s not worth it.”

A flicker of a smile began to tug at his lips, but his brows drew together.

“Hey. Are you sure?” he asked. “Don’t bow out just because of me—”

Your hand tightened on his wrist.

“No, baby. It’s me. My choice,” you said. “Let me just use the restroom real quick, and we can go.”

Dean nodded, and you stood.  

“What, are you leaving?” Andréa asked. She was tucked into Benny’s side with a piece of red velvet cake poised on her fork. “You didn’t even finish your cake!”

You laughed. Turning down dessert was a big deal for you, but you’d live.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I just need to call it a night, but I’ll be back in a sec to say goodbye. Hold on.”

Andréa blew out a breath as you walked away from the table.

“She’s gonna miss the White Elephant gift exchange. Last year, someone got a 60” smart TV,” she said.

Benny whistled.

“I wouldn’t mind an upgrade,” he said. He shot Dean a glance. “What do you think the guys would do if we showed up with something like that to the station?”

Dean scoffed. “I think the Chief would have a damn conniption.”

Bobby was old-school. He thought they had enough distractions from the job as it was.

“Probably right,” Benny chuckled.

Andréa smiled in amusement. But her eyes clocked the way Nick glanced your way as you walked by, down the hall and to the right. She sipped at her glass of pinot grigio to wash down the rich cake.

Still, she discreetly watched the man down another shot before he took his leave of the bar. He laughed at something Josh said and waved him off.

She gave Nick credit for not stumbling on his feet, and only swaying slightly on the same path you took down the hall. It didn’t mean he was following you, necessarily. This house was like a small Smithsonian. And yet, something niggled in the back of her mind. 

Andréa remembered how you’d acted at dinner the other day when talking about Nick. And how drained you’d seemed lately when she saw you after work. She’d thought that was just about finding your way after George’s death…

Marv distracted her with a question as Dean and Benny continued to talk, and she answered him with her usual charm. But she kept one eye on the hallway, waiting for you to come back.

She made it about another minute before she turned to Benny and Dean, leaning in close.

“Hey, Dean,” she said. “Maybe you want to check on her? She’s taking a while.”

Dean didn’t look concerned as he checked his watch. It hadn’t been all that long, but he still pulled out his phone to text you.

“She left her purse here,” Andréa said. She started to get up out of her seat. “I’m just gonna go see if she’s okay.”

Benny grabbed her hand before she left the table.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he asked. 

“I’m not sure,” she said, but she met Dean’s confused gaze. “Okay, look. I’ve been noticing some things with her recently. I have no evidence except for how well I know that woman, but something’s off with her. It happens every time she talks about that asshole Nick.”

Dean’s brows furrowed as he tried to read between the lines.

“What’re you saying exactly?” he asked.

Andréa let out a breath. “I’m saying, I’ve got a bad feeling.”

You hummed as you washed your hands in the bathroom. Wine runs right through me. I should know better.

You’d also been trying to quell your anxieties and just get through the night. But you realized now that there was no kind of calm like the peace you had, now that you knew what you needed to do. Starting tomorrow, you were going to start looking for a new job.

A knock at the door made you jolt slightly.

“Someone’s in here!” you called without looking over your shoulder. You finished washing your hands and dried them on the hand towel hanging on a silver wall rack.

The door cracked open, but before you could protest, a man stumbled in.

Of fucking course it was Nick Savage.

“Excuse me?!” you breathed in shock. You watched with wide eyes as he pushed the door closed and seemed to take notice of you for the first time. He smirked.

“Oh, hey,” he said. Somehow, he was only slurring a little. He straightened his white blazer. The black satin shirt he wore was wrinkled and he smelled heavily of tequila, and that was with a couple of feet of distance between you two.

Your shock finally melted into a glare. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Gotta take a leak. It’s my house after all,” he shrugged, leaning a hand on the wall closest to the door for balance.

You shook your head, and with a huff, you tried to get by him.

His hand wrapped around your arm. “Hey, we didn’t get a chance to catch up tonight.”

You shoved his hand off of you.

“Don’t you ever in your life touch me again,” you warned him. Your eyes were as hard as your voice. “I don’t think there’s anyone on the planet—no. In the whole damn universe who sickens me more than you, Nick Savage.”

Nick straightened a little, frowning at you. Whatever he saw in your gaze, he didn’t seem to like the challenge. When you reached for the doorknob again, he grabbed your arm and shoved you hard into the nearest wall.

You gasped as the air rushed out of your lungs. Before you even realized what was happening, you felt his clammy hands on your bare shoulders, his hot alcoholic breath on your face. You raised your hands in defense, pushing against his chest.

He was taller and stronger and pinned you harder against the wall, with his knee shoving its way between your legs. You stared up with wide eyes of fear, and his hand clamped over your mouth to stifle your scream.

Your nails bit into his arm and wrist, trying to peel back his sweaty hand, just an inch to free your voice and let you breathe. To your left you heard the door bang open.

Please—

And the hand was peeled away entirely.

You could only blink and watch as Dean barreled through, grabbing Nick and bodily hurling him away. Nick opened his mouth to spout something angrily, but Dean continued to stalk forward and grab the man again.

Nick attempted a lazy swing at Dean’s head, but he bat it away. His fist connected roughly with Nick’s face, snapping his head back with a cry.

It was almost too fast for you to track what was happening right in front of you, but Dean dragged the drunkard the rest of the way across the bathroom, even over the tub, and slammed him against the beige tile so hard that it knocked a few of them loose. Nick’s head smacked audibly against them and he groaned at the impact.

The men were around the same height, but Dean was honed by years of firefighting and fueled by rage. One hand gripped high on Nick’s collar, while his arm pressed against the man’s chest. Then into his throat.

“Give me a reason,” Dean said, in a voice much calmer than he felt. Behind his eyes was wildfire.

“What?” Nick choked.

You finally broke through enough of your shock to know you had to do something.

“Dean!” you uttered. You cautiously went to him, but he glanced at you over his shoulder in warning.

“Stay there,” he told you firmly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said, even though your voice shook. “Let’s just go.”

Despite the blood dripping down from his likely bruised nose, Nick chortled a laugh. It earned Dean’s slow head turn, returning his attention to the decision at hand. His fist tightened in Nick’s shirt.

“You heard me,” Dean said. His voice was laced with steel. “I said give me a reason not to break your miserable fucking neck.”

“Dean,” you gasped.

“Not sure that’s a good idea, fireman,” Nick slurred. “I clearly don’t have all my wits about me right now. Can’t be held lia…li-ble for my actions, now can I? I’ll have your badge by end of the week.”

You let out a harsh breath and finally went to Dean. You laid a hand on his back. Every muscle was tense and straining under his white dress shirt.

“Dean,” you pressed. “Let him go. He’s not worth it.”

Nick smirked lazily in Dean’s face. It was the look of a man who was used to getting his way.

“I’d listen to her,” he said, with a mocking glint in his eyes. “Or I could just fire her on Monday. Make it easy on myself.”

Dean seethed. His forearm slowly rolled harder into the man’s neck, pressing on his windpipe. The sounds of choked air were satisfying.

“Yeah, or I’ll have the police down here in ten minutes or less,” said Dean. “I’ll clue you in on a little something. My dad’s a cop. I’ll reckon he’ll be happy to put a fucking douchebag like you in the can with the real charmers.”

Dean gave a mocking glance to Nick’s silk shirt, his gold pinky ring and loafers.

“How long do you think it’ll take for one of ‘em to make you their little bitch?” Dean said.

Nick glared back at him, with a frisson of intimidation behind his eyes. He glanced at you over his shoulder. Dean noticed and tightened his hold.

“Don’t you look at her, you piece of shit!” he warned. His voice was low and dangerous. “Make your choice. You gonna come down to the station easy, or difficult? Please say difficult.”

Nick held up placating hands. He shifted uncomfortably against the wall; one foot was planted on the ground while the other was in the tub. The shower curtain was half off its hooks.

Dean eased up enough for Nick to take a breath.

“Okay, let’s say we do that,” he said, with a cough. “I’ll get bail. Then I’ll fucking walk, ‘cause I own this town.” 

“You mean your dad does,” you snapped.

Nick rolled his eyes. “Same name, same shit, sweetheart.”

Dean grit his teeth and tightened his grip again in warning. You wrapped your hand around his arm, but he didn’t budge.

Nick met his eyes.

“How about this. Get your greasy fucking hands off me, and we’ll call tonight a wash,” he proposed. “No foul, we all take our balls and go home.”

He then snorted at his own joke. “Balls…”

Dean tilted his head, but didn’t move a muscle. “Or?”

Once again, Nick smirked.

“I’ll report you to your boss for assaulting me in my own house. And uh, she’ll be fired, obviously.” He shrugged. “By the time my lawyers get done with her, she won’t be able to sling lattes at Starbucks.”

Dean’s face was stony, tight with outrage. His whole body was coiled like a spring as every cell in his body fought against ripping this man apart.

But he still felt your hands around his arm, trying to pull him back.

“Dean, don’t. He’s not worth your career. Please,” you begged.

The bathroom door pushed open again, and he heard Benny’s voice.

“Hey, brother.” He dropped a careful hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Come on, now. You got him. Ease up now.”

Dean’s teeth ground together. He looked down, and his stare bored into Nick’s. Dean pressed his forearm into the other man’s throat again, enough to almost feel the give as the man struggled for breath.

“Remember how that feels,” Dean said icily. “20579, Dean Winchester. The next time you want to threaten my badge, that’s my number.”

Nick’s eyes widened slightly. At the time, Dean took it as fear. But really, it was recognition.

Winchester, Nick thought.

Dean then leaned in closer, so only Nick would hear his next lowered words.

“First and last warning,” Dean said. “If you touch her again. If I hear anything more about you giving her a hard time, not a dime in the world is gonna save you from me.”

When Dean finally pulled his arm away and let go, Nick’s face was red and spluttering as he coughed and slumped into the bathtub.

Dean turned on his heel in anger and disgust. Andréa was supporting you with her arm around yours, but she released you to let Dean take over. You stared up at him with tearful eyes, and you reached for his hand.

He took it with his left, holding you steady. He then wrapped an arm around your shoulders and guided you out of the bathroom.

The air was tense and silent inside the Impala. It was a long drive back to your house, and Dean hadn’t looked at you once in 20 minutes. His gaze was firmly on the road. He hadn’t even turned on the radio.

You had his suit jacket draped around your frame, but your insides still felt cold. You glanced over at him and stared at his profile for a moment, wishing you knew what to say to break the silence. To reassure him that you were fine. (Even though it would've been a lie.)

He felt your stare and turned his head towards you.

“How long has this been going on?” he asked. His voice was gruff. “Andréa said she’s been noticing something off about you for a while.”

Your lips pressed together. “Can this part wait until we get home…please?”

Dean’s jaw ticked, but he turned back to the road ahead.

The car was silent for the rest of the hour.

It was a relief to turn the key into the door lock and step through the threshold of your house. Dean followed you inside and tossed his wallet and car keys on the side table by the door.

Somehow he always managed to miss the little basket you put there for exactly those things, but you weren’t about to remind him.

You slipped off your heels and went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, to steady yourself. Dean leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. He didn’t say anything, but you still felt his eyes on you.

With a sigh, you turned and met his gaze.

“Just tell me,” he said. “How long?”

You took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“It started before I even met you, Dean.” 

His brows raised high. He tilted his head at you as incredulous anger tightened his face.

“What?” he said. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You shook your head and grabbed his arm. “Okay, come here.”

You led him into the living room and sat beside him on the couch. You explained that it started small, with compliments on your clothes, your hair. Then it was lingering looks, “innocent” brushes of his hand, touching your arm, your shoulder.

When you’d tried to put distance between you and Nick, the drunken shenanigans began. The comments grew heinous and sickening, and so did his threats.

And nothing you did worked. Not distance and professionalism. Not refusing his advances outright. Not threatening to go to HR.

All while you spoke, Dean was quiet, but on edge. You saw it in how he gripped his knee, with his other hand fisted against his mouth, elbow resting on his thigh.

But the hardest part of the conversation came when you told Dean about the day of the car accident—how Nick had demanded you come to his office and gave you a sickening ultimatum.

At that, Dean could no longer remain still. He got up and started to pace across the living room. He was a man of action, you knew, and his reaction was almost everything you’d feared.

I should've told him, you thought. You knew.

Although you now felt relieved, even in your guilt, you also knew this next part wasn’t going to be fun either. Because Dean finally erupted.

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” he asked.

Briefly, you closed your eyes. “No.”

“Why? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” His hand buried itself in his hair as his jaw clenched. Even if your friend Andréa hadn’t known, she’d still seen enough to suspect something. It completely blew his mind, in the worst of ways.

“Jesus Christ!” he shook his head. “Why am I always the last one to know when something’s going on with you?”

Tears watered in your eyes as you looked up at him. You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off.

“I mean, really. What are we doing here, huh?” he exclaimed, his hands open wide. “Honestly, tell me. Because if you can’t trust me, then I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Your eyes widened, a trill of panic lacing down your spine. You stood up and went to him. 

“Dean, please, it wasn’t about that,” you said. You implored him with your eyes to understand. “I wanted to tell someone…God, you don’t know how bad I wanted to tell you. But I knew how you’d react. Just like this. I didn’t want to make the situation worse!”

He frowned deeply. “You didn’t want help? You didn’t want me to protect you?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you snapped. But then, you sucked in a shaking breath, trying to calm yourself. You got closer and rested a hand against his chest.

“Of course I’m grateful that you protected me. Dean, I love you for it.”

You grasped the ends of his jacket with both hands. All you really wanted to do was bury yourself in his warmth and sleep for the next ten years. You were still raw and frayed inside.

Dean looked down at you, and his heart clenched. He couldn’t help but hold you back. His arms wound around your lower back as he pulled you against him. His chin rested above your head, and you sighed in relief.

“I thought I could handle it,” you confessed, in a smaller voice. “I worked so damn hard…I wanted to fight for my job. But Nick knew I didn’t have the money or the resources to fight back for real if I reported him, or even if I sued him. And before tonight, I didn’t have enough to take to the police.”

Dean pulled away just enough to see your face. He grasped your arms, gentle but firm.

“I’ll take you to the station right now,” he said. “My dad can help you. Hell, Sam can help you.”

You bit your lip and shook your head.   

“You heard him, Dean. With his money and connections, he’ll get off. And then he’ll make both of our lives hell,” you said. “He’ll go after your badge—”

“He can fucking try,” he snapped.

“Stop, okay? I don’t want that,” you pleaded.

A sharp breath escaped through his nose, and he let you go.

“You’re fucking impossible, you know that?” he said. “How can I help you if you won’t let me?”

He was beside himself with frustration, and even hurt. You knew it in the way he tried to walk away from you, but you reached for his arm to stop him, with tears burning in your eyes. You didn’t want him to think that you didn’t want his support. That you didn’t trust him.

Because that couldn’t have been any farther from the truth.

“I’m sorry!” Your tears finally escaped, trailing down your cheeks. You tugged him back towards you, earning his furrowed glance. “I was…scared. I…I didn’t know what to do. Maybe I just didn’t want to deal with it at all.”

The longer Dean looked at your face, the more he crumbled.

Once again, he turned to gather you back into his arms. And there your tears fell in earnest. Your body trembled with quiet sobs, and he held you tighter. His heart broke a little more as his hand soothed over your hair. He shushed you more gently, pressing his lips to your forehead.

“Okay. It’s okay. Don’t apologize. You shouldn’t have had to deal with this, let alone for this damn long,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward for a moment as he mentally kicked himself. You didn’t deserve this, or his anger either. 

He just couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed any signs, like Andréa had. All these months… It threatened to drive him up a fucking wall.

“You’re safe, and I’ve got you,” he said, continuing to hold you securely against him. “We’ll handle this, like everything else.”

After a moment, you nodded, letting out another shaky breath. You squeezed your eyes shut and buried your face into his chest.

You already knew you must’ve looked a state, after the night you’d had, but you didn’t truly realize it until you were looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Mascara and lipstick smudged, hair disheveled, tears staining your cheeks.

Ugh. You hastily scrubbed your face clean with makeup wipes. Then you tamed your hair, brushing through the frizz and calming it back into relative normalcy.

You went for the zipper of your dress next, but you couldn’t get it down all the way. You turned to look over your shoulder.

“Dean,” you called. 

He was in your room, rifling through his bag to grab the clothes he’d brought to sleep in.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Come ‘ere a sec?”

He obliged you, drawing into the bathroom. His white dress shirt was only half unbuttoned, the sleeves rolled up. You met his eyes in the mirror.

“Can you unzip me?” you asked.

Dean looked down where your hands were holding both sides of the zipper on your dress. He took one side from you and unzipped it the rest of the way, stopping at the small of your back. He caught sight of the red, sheer lingerie underneath.

Noticing the way he paused, you smiled slightly. You turned toward him and tugged the dress down the rest of the way, so he could see the rest of the ensemble. It was a simple corset-style nightie, but true to your word, the lace was paired with satin trim lines.

Your hands ran up his sternum and undid the last buttons on his shirt. You grasped near his collar and leaned up on your toes for a slow kiss. Dean unconsciously held you to him by your shoulders, his eyes closing at the feel of you.

But when they next opened, he caught sight of the bruise on your shoulder. It was about the size of a thumbprint.

His throat tightened. After a moment, he parted from you, but he didn’t continue where you left off. You looked up at him in confusion.

“Baby?” you asked.

Dean shook his head. He couldn’t answer you; couldn’t even articulate what the hell was in his head. So he just turned and went back into the room for his change of clothes. It left you frowning, bereft, and worried.

You changed into an old shirt and some shorts before you got into bed. You slipped under the covers and watched Dean. He sat with his back to you as he unclipped his watch and set it down on the nightstand. By now he’d changed into his faded, gray Lawrence Fire Department shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

Your throat constricted with emotion, namely with anxiety.

“Are you still mad at me?” you asked.

Dean paused. He glanced back at you, saw you laying there with a hand gripped into the covers. His brows furrowed when he saw your shining tears.

He turned and got into bed with you. He slid his arm under your head and wordlessly encouraged you to come closer. His free hand soothed across your arm.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said at last. But he was still upset, and deeply unsettled. As the night replayed in his mind, he knew that at the root of his fury, there was fear. 

“I just keep thinking,” he said. “What would’ve happened if I hadn’t called out of work tonight.”

You looked down at that. You laid a hand on his chest.

“I wouldn’t have gone to the party,” you said. Though if you were honest with yourself, you probably would’ve thought yourself safe with Benny and Andréa. “I just…I really didn’t think he would try to—”

You tried to take a breath to steady yourself, but it was a tremulous release. The memory flashed behind your eyes, the remnants of panic and fear under your skin.

You didn’t realize you were crying until Dean’s hand was caressing your cheek, brushing away your tears.

“All right, shhh. I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s over,” he said. Once again, he pulled you into his arms and held you close. Guilt hit him between the ribs for upsetting you all over again. “I promise you’re safe, and I’ve got you.”

You did your best to take in deep breaths, letting them out more steadily. Dean wanted to put the matter to bed for tonight. He really did…but he couldn’t help pressing one last thing.

“Just tell me you’re not going back there on Monday, unless it’s to HR,” he said. 

You paused, shook your head a little. You didn’t want to rev him up again, but you knew Nick. 

“He doesn’t make idle threats, Dean,” you reminded him. “But there’s a reason why he waited until tonight, at his house. He’s not going to try his luck at the office, where everyone’s watching.”

“You don’t know that,” Dean retorted.

You saw his point, but you almost didn’t want to acknowledge it. You couldn’t afford to quit.

“I still need my job, for now,” you said. “But I will start looking for something else, so I can get out as soon as possible. I promise.”

Dean wasn’t happy. Both of you knew it. You also sensed that he wanted to argue more, but was holding back for now. You appreciated that.

You truly didn’t want to get into it anymore with him. You just wanted to close your eyes and try to forget about tonight, knowing that you’d fail. 

Dean still held you, with his hands rubbing up and down your back. His touch and his heartbeat soothed you until you managed to fall asleep. 

AN: Dean knows, and it ain't pretty. What did you think of the confrontation? Unfortunately, I'm drawing from real events here (not myself).

Next Time:

The mystery of "Azazel" thickens, Dean deals with another tricky fire, and the reader has a realization of her own...

“Yeah, well. This one’s a rat bastard in human clothing,” you replied.

“Ooh, sounds like my old biology professor,” Jo chimed in. She was drying out some newly clean glasses behind the counter along with Ellen. “He had a reputation for scoping out freshman girls.”

You made a gagging sound as you reached for the delectable martini glass Ellen slid your way.

“Men are disgusting,” you said. Jo snorted.

“99.8% of them, yeah,” she said. But her gaze drew towards the door when Dean Winchester came in. And she added, “A few of ‘em are all right.”

Was it just you, or was there a softer look in her blue eyes when she noticed Dean?

Keep Reading: PART 14

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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#Boiling Point #Smoke Eater #Part 13 #dean winchester #Firefighter!Dean Winchester #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #firefighter!Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x you #firefighter AU #dean winchester AU #spn #supernatural #benny lafitte #zepskies writes

[imagineteamfreewill]

Gentle and Kind

Title: Gentle and Kind

Pairing: Prince!Sam Winchester x Queen!Reader

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: Arranged marriage, Christmas, threats, angst, fluff, and mentions of death, wounds, war, violence, and sex (nothing happens)

Summary: Y/N’s kingdom has been at war for a long time, and when King John offers her respite in his castle for Christmas, she eagerly agrees.

A/N: This fulfills trope #21 on my 25 Days of Tropes list! It was honestly going to be a short one shot, but it got away from me and now I think it’s the longest thing I’ve written all year. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy and that you had a safe and happy holiday season!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Your muscles ache from weeks of fighting with the knights in your first garrison, and the dried blood in your hair is not likely to come out on its own, but for the first time in a long time, you’re relaxed. The carriage is driving through safe territory—the safest you’ve been in since Crowley invaded your kingdom and declared war on you and your people. There’s no fear of being ambushed here.

When King John sent a messenger to your war camp, you had been surprised. He isn’t known for reaching out, and to send a personal, royal messenger straight into war territory is a dangerous move. Nonetheless, the King of Ashela had invited you for a short respite in his castle, just in time for Christmas. You’d accepted after much consultation with your closest advisor, Sir Robert.

You begin traveling east to Ashela four days before Christmas Eve. Your armies travel west, back to Athos. Newer, freshly trained knights had arrived a few hours before your departure to relieve your weary soldiers and allow them rest of their own, though Sir Robert had carefully selected four of them to travel with you as your personal guard for the journey. They ride horseback outside the carriage, and Sir Robert is in the second carriage with the gifts you’ve brought for the royal family.

Charlie is resting across the carriage from you. She’s abandoned the formal dress that you know King John will expect of her as your lady-in-waiting, but you don’t blame her, nor do you correct her. Wearing trousers is easier nowadays, and you’ve done the same. You’ve gotten into the habit of wearing the traditional captain’s uniform, or even a soldier’s armor, rather than the gowns you used to wear before the war. Even as the horses carry you down the tidy forest road that leads to Ashela, you’ve donned your armor. It's a habit to put it on each morning, and you wanted to display your strength and empathy for your men even as you left them behind on the battlefield. 

You let out a restless sigh and shift in your seat, and your armor clanks as you move. You wince when something bumps into a bruise on your back. A small part of you wishes you’d chosen to wear something else, but there’s no point in stopping to take the armor off when you’re already so far into the journey.

“Do you think I’ve made the right choice?” you ask when Charlie looks over at you, no doubt checking if there’s something she can do to ease your discomfort. She’s a good friend, and you’re often grateful that you chose her to be your closest lady-in-waiting. “Do you think that leaving my men during this time is the right thing to do?”

In response, Charlie offers you a tired smile. She’d journeyed overnight to your castle—Eryas Court—then back to the war camp, in order to collect the gifts for John Winchester and his two sons. Even if they were inviting you for respite during a war, you didn’t dare show up empty-handed.

“My lady, you can only do so much. You may be a queen, but you are also just a woman,” she replies.

You sigh again and look out the window at the stars as you mull over the most recent battle plans your captains had shown you before you’d left the camp. The Elciums have been encroaching slowly upon the village that surrounds Eryas Court, but you’ve been able to keep them at bay since winter began. You’ve even managed to take back some of the territory they’d taken over the hot summer months.

The carriage falls back into silence, except for the clatter of the wheels and the constant rhythm of the horses’ hooves against the packed dirt. After a while, you find yourself nodding off with your head against the sturdy carriage wall. You don’t fight it, and you let yourself be lulled to sleep for the remainder of the journey.

Charlie’s hand over yours wakes you. You startle, and she sits back in her seat as the carriage rocks with your movement. Your hand immediately flies to where your sword would be, but you’ve unstrapped it from your side for the journey. Sir Robert had said it wouldn’t be proper for you to show up dressed for battle, so you’d met him halfway. He would keep hold of your sword, at least for the trip to Ashela. Once you arrive, he’s to return it directly to you for safekeeping. It was your father’s sword before it became yours, and you don’t trust many with it.

“It’s okay,” Charlie soothes, and you stare wide-eyed at her, gasping slightly for air. “We’ve arrived in Ashela. You slept all night, and for most of the morning.”

Nodding, you close your eyes. It’s shocking that you weren’t plagued with nightmares. The last time you left the war camp, you struggled to sleep, even in the chambers where you’d spent every night since birth, at least until the Elciums invaded.

Your mouth is dry and you swallow a few times to try and get the sandy feeling to abate. You wish you had some water, or at least something to drink. There’s a knock on the carriage window and you flinch away, sliding toward the center of the bench.

You sense Charlie shifting in her seat. “It’s one of the guards,” she says a moment later. “Are you ready to meet King John?” 

You’ve never been to Ashela before, nor have you met John and his sons. They’ve been fine neighbors, however, and you have no complaints. You hear what others say about them—the Winchester sons are strong soldiers and scholars, and King John is exacting in everything he does. They’d be formidable foes, and you’re here to make sure that your kingdoms are allied, if only informally.

You nod again, and you open your eyes as Charlie pushes open the carriage door. You lift your chin as the sun immediately floods in through the opening.

Charlie exits first, and she helps clear a path for your exit. A strong hand is offered and you use it to climb from the carriage. Your legs are stiff from sitting so long, especially after months of fighting, and you have to bite back a groan as your muscles stretch.

“Your Majesty,” a deep voice greets.

The winter sun is practically blinding and it takes you a second to get your wits about you. Tall, lush evergreens stand in clusters around the castle, reaching toward the bright blue sky. They’re interspersed by dark green bushes and several boulders. A forest continues behind the clearing you stand in, and the trees grow so closely that light can’t reach through their branches. The darkness this creates is both intriguing and a bit terrifying.

Snow covers the grounds and all the trees surrounding it, except for a gray stone path that has been cleared for you. King John and his entourage stand on a larger patch of gray stone a few feet away, and you bow politely in his direction. He returns the gesture.

“King John,” you say. “Thank you for your kind invitation.”

“You’re very welcome, Queen Y/N. I expect your journey was a pleasant one?”

“As pleasant as can be expected.”

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you as Charlie adjusts the chainmail hood you’ve let fall from your head, revealing the blood caked in your hair and the healing cut that follows your hairline. There’s a sizable bruise on your temple as well, from when an Elcium knight hit you with his shield.

The man to John’s right clears his throat and steps forward with a small bow. “Your Majesty, I’m Prince Dean, head of Ashela’s royal guard. Please allow me to provide you with new armor while we repair yours, and your knights’,” he adds, gesturing to the four men standing near you.

Each man stands with one hand at his side and the other resting on the hilt of his sword, and though they hold their heads high, you recognize the weariness in their stance and in their taut expressions.

“That’s very generous, Prince Dean. Thank you.” You answer with a bow of your own, and he smiles kindly before you turn your eyes to the man on the other side of the king.

He’s tall, taller than any of the men in the King’s entourage and in your guard, and his hair just barely brushes over the collar of his jacket. It’s almost chestnut in the light. When he smiles at you, the urge to smile back is so strong that you can’t fight it. You meet his eyes, and you smile for the first time in a while.

“Prince Samuel, Your Majesty,” he says. He bows, short and sweet. “If you’re ready, I can show you and your lady to your chambers. I’m sure you’re eager to rest.”

You bow back, still smiling. “Thank you, Your Highness.” You nod politely to the King and to Prince Dean, then follow Prince Samuel toward the stone castle at the end of the cleared path. Two of your men travel with you, and Charlie is close behind you to the right, but the other two knights stay with Sir Robert. You realize only as you enter the castle that you’ve left your sword behind.

Samuel leads you through the halls of his home, explaining the history of various paintings and rooms, but you only catch bits and pieces. He walks quickly, and while your armor is protective, it’s made to help you fight on horseback, not take extensive walking tours through beautiful castles.

“Here are your chambers,” Samuel finally says, and you clatter to a stop.

Charlie bumps into you, and she grabs your arm for stability. You catch Samuel’s eyes flickering down to her hands on your arm before he collects himself. Your time on the battlefield has caused your decorum to slip just enough that you know you’re being much too informal for the occasion. Suddenly very conscious of your mistakes, you clear your throat and straighten your posture, fixing him with the most composed, diplomatic look you can muster.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” You allow one of the guards to enter after Samuel opens the door, leaving you feeling a little more exposed. You’ve grown used to being surrounded by people fighting for your kingdom—fighting for you. “Your father was very kind to invite me here. We’ve brought gifts for him, and for you and Prince Dean.” You gesture back the way you’d come. “I’m sure that Sir Robert, my advisor, has already passed them along.”

Samuel dips his head in thanks, smiling. “We’re happy to have you. We’ve been trying to show more diplomacy than in the past.”

You raise an eyebrow. Most kingdoms are not so open about their goals, at least in your experience.

The guard exits and nods his approval of the chambers you’ve been given, and Charlie takes that as a sign to enter and make sure the room is prepared to her standards as well. You don’t move.

“Ashela has always been diplomatic,” you carefully reply. You’re not sure what to make of his disclosure. 

“But not always welcoming. I’m trying to change that.”

“You? Not your father?”

Samuel lifts his chin slightly at the question. There’s a hint of pride in his expression, but none in his voice as he answers, “My father has put me in charge of our relationships with neighboring kingdoms. This is one of many steps I’m— we’re taking,” he corrects, “to strengthen those bonds.”

“I see.”

You glance through the open doorway, where Charlie is instructing a chambermaid how warm you like your rooms and how often to tend to the fire. Mentally, you file away the information that Sam has just given you, then turn your focus on more concrete matters.

“I suppose there are festivities I should like to attend?”

He nods, and you can feel his gaze still on your face, even as you watch your friend peek out the windows to see the view from your chambers. “Indeed. There’s a feast tonight, shortly after sundown. I can instruct someone to fetch you.”

“I would like that very much, Prince Samuel,” you say.

You turn back to him, and he takes that as a cue to take your hand and kiss the back of your knuckles, where the skin is rough and scarred from so much fighting. The gesture is simple, but it surprises you nonetheless. Prince Samuel is gentle and chivalrous. It’s been a long time since you’ve been treated that way. Your hand seems to tremble as you pull away, and your breath catches over a lump in your throat.

“Very well. I will see you tonight, Ma’am,” Samuel says. He bows low. It’s a sign of respect he’s not obligated to, and it makes you want to cry. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep over the past few weeks or maybe it’s something else, but to be treated like a queen—not just a captain—is something you didn’t know you’d missed.

“No need for titles,” you find yourself saying, your voice thick with sudden emotion. “You may call me Y/N, if you wish.”

If Sir Robert were here, he’d be interrupting and excusing away your brash actions, but you’re practically alone and the only remaining guard won’t speak up, even if he wanted to. It’s up to Sam to respond, and he only stops and stares at you for a long moment. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you wait, desperately hoping he won’t be cruel.

“Sam,” he finally replies. He offers you a small smile. “You may call me Sam.”

You nod and smile wide, glossy-eyed as Sam turns and heads further down the hallway, opposite the direction he’d first brought you. Once he’s around the corner, you step into the warmly lit chambers, where Charlie has moved onto the wardrobe of clothes that has been prepared for you. Clearly, they hadn’t expected you to show up with all of your finery, and you’re thankful that they had the forethought to provide something for you.

The other guard exits and closes the door behind him, allowing you privacy as the two knights take their places in the hallway. You stay close to the door, where you can see the whole space.

“The Prince seems very polite,” Charlie says after a few moments. Her back is to you as she sorts through the dresses.

“Very.” You don’t say anything more.

“And handsome, too,” she prods.

“Charlie,” you warn. “I have other, more important matters than a polite and handsome prince.”

She sighs and you can picture her rolling her eyes at you. Finally, she pulls a plain dress in your favorite color from the wardrobe, then turns and holds it up for you.

“This will do for now,” she decides. “But I’ll have to find you something else for the feast.”

You glance at her, not bothering to ask how she already knows about the feast, before turning in a circle to take in the enormous room that has been given to you for your respite. It’s bigger than the counsel tent at the war camp. The bed itself could fit the entire map table, and the size of the fireplace reminds you of the enormous bonfire that the men use to cook their meals. The walls and floor are made of the same tan stone as the rest of the castle, but the stone is so smooth that it reflects the light from the flickering flames. There’s a dark wood door in the corner, which you guess leads to a room for Charlie, if Ashelan castles are built like your own.

Everywhere you look, there are lavish curtains, tapestries, and paintings framed in gold. There’s a mound of pillows to lounge on by the fire, and several dark wood chairs standing behind them in a semicircle. Their carvings are so elaborate that you hesitate to sit in them. The bed is draped with soft, plush fabrics in deep greens, reds, and a creamy white that reminds you of the milk your nursemaid brought for you as a young girl. Evergreen boughs are wound around the posts of the bed, though they’re partially hidden by the fabric curtains that have been fastened against the wood. The whole room has been decorated with more sweet-smelling pine branches, as well as clumps of red berries that glisten in the light from the fire and the candles in the window. It’s amazing to you that the candles are already lit, given that it’s only midday, but Ashela has many customs that you’ve always found strange. For instance, Prince Dean was married several years ago in an arranged marriage. Your father had explained the ancient custom to you, explaining the benefits to each kingdom. You still remember that conversation so clearly, and even though your father has long since passed, his words are forever imprinted in your memory.

“Sometimes doing what’s best for your people isn’t immediately what’s best for you, Y/N, but if you’re lucky enough, the two will align.”

“It’s too much,” you murmur, and you escape back out into the hallway, leaving the door to your chambers wide open as you flee. Your heart is racing again and it feels like the walls are starting to close in around you. The panic is irrational. You know it is, but you can’t stop it as it pushes you forward down the hallway.

The guards give you worried looks, but you ignore them as you hurry around the corner where Sam had disappeared. You walk quickly, following the sound of loud voices until you reach an open-air chamber where Sam and his brother are lounging at a table. Two gold goblets sit in front of them, and a candlelit tree has been placed in the corner of the room. An enormous dark fur blankets the floor. The fireplace here is as big as the one in your guest chambers, if not bigger.

Both men stand as soon as they see you.

“Your Majesty,” Dean greets, and he frowns slightly when he looks at you properly. “Is everything alright?”

You clear your throat in an attempt to compose yourself. “I desire a moment alone,” and then you add, “With Sam.”

Dean raises an eyebrow and glances at his brother, who nods slightly but doesn’t say a word.

“Very well,” Dean says. He picks up his goblet and drinks the last of its contents, tilting his head back to get the last drops. “I’ll be in my study.” He nods politely at you before leaving through a passageway just to the right of the tree.

Sam waits until the sound of his brother’s footsteps has disappeared completely before he speaks up.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“I apologize, but I must ask for new chambers.” Sam’s face twists in confusion and, predictably, he opens his mouth to ask why. You continue before he has the chance. “I have been fighting with my men for many moons, and the rooms you have given me are much too lavish. I’m afraid I simply won’t be comfortable in something so big, as foolish as it sounds.”

Though your words are composed and formal, you wring your hands in front of you, hoping Sam will ignore the way you can’t stop fidgeting. You feel so flighty that it makes you irritated even with yourself.

His expression turns sympathetic. “I see. There must be something I can do to convince you to stay, Y/N. Those chambers have been carefully prepared for you by some of our most trusted servants. If I were to request the change, I’m afraid they might take offense.”

“You care deeply for them,” you say, quieter now. Something about him and the sound of his voice calms you, and the anxiety you’d felt only moments before has started to diminish.

“I do,” he answers. “They work hard, and they deserve to be treated with respect.”

“I agree.” You nod and fall silent, looking down at your hands. Suddenly, you feel very foolish to have searched him out to ask for something so trivial. You’re a queen, after all. You should be used to nicer things than this. You shouldn’t be so overwhelmed by a room so similar to the ones from your childhood.

“It wouldn’t be offensive, however,” Sam begins, and you look up at him, holding your breath, “to only have one Ashelan maid to assist you.”

You exhale a small sigh of relief, as small as you can manage without being completely obvious. “I suppose one would be sufficient. She could help Charlie. Lady Charlie, I mean.”

He smiles. “I’m sure Lady Charlie will grow accustomed to our castle soon enough. She seems very intelligent.”

“Oh?” You can’t help but ask what he means. Charlie is smart, there’s no denying it, but many men have mistaken her for a frail, unassuming creature before. Sam would be one of the first to correctly identify her.

“She has the same look in her eyes as you. You are not one to be underestimated. I’ve heard about the way you fight on the battlefield.”

Before you can respond, there’s a noise in the hallway and you look over your shoulder to see what it is. One of your guards in the entrance. Your stomach sinks, knowing that he’s most likely been sent to retrieve you.

“I should allow you to get settled,” Sam says. He nods politely at the guard before looking back at you. “Though I hope you will tell us about your traditions in Athos at the feast. I am eager to learn more.”

You watch him for a moment, judging if he’s earnest in his request, and then you nod. Offering him a small smile, you follow the guard back to your guest chambers, where Charlie is waiting patiently for you, a warm bath already drawn.

The night is hard. After your bath and a meal brought up by the Ashelan maid, you try to rest before the feast, but the nightmares come quickly this time. You toss and turn, and you wake up screaming. The guards burst into your room as Charlie rushes to you from where she’s been inspecting your armor for what needs the most care and attention. 

Once it’s determined that you aren’t in any danger, she convinces the guards to withdraw. She holds you then, letting you cry in her arms as you tremble, remembering the horrors of the dream and the reality that shapes them. You cry yourself to sleep, and you’re certain that you only stay asleep because Charlie decides to stay with you. She tucks you back under the heavy blankets and drags one of the carved chairs over to your bedside. There, she curls up with one hand holding yours and the other propping her head up so she can rest as well. You have minimal nightmares after that, though her presence beside you is reassuring enough that the few times you do wake, you aren’t too afraid to fall back asleep.

You sleep through the feast, much to your dismay. John, Sam, and Dean are waiting for you when you enter the Great Hall to break your fast with them the next morning, however.

“I trust you slept well,” Dean says to you once you’re settled in the seat across from him. Charlie sits beside you, and Sir Robert is on your right, across from Prince Sam. John is at the head of the table. There’s another man across the table, opposite Charlie, and another on her left. You don’t recognize them, but you suspect that they’re friends of Sam and Dean, or that they’re the lords-in-waiting. John doesn’t seem to have an advisor with him, but there’s an empty seat at the far end of the table.

“As well as can be expected,” you reply. Your smile is strained, but you offer it anyway, then move your hands out of the way of the servant who comes to bring you your meal. “I apologize for missing the feast. I so badly wanted to come, but it was best that I stayed in my chambers last night.”

“We understand completely,” John tells you. “We are not strangers to war.”

You nod, and everyone goes back to eating. The Great Hall is silent. It’s a complete change from your meals in your tent at the war camp. Though you always dined with just Charlie and Sir Robert, you’d always been able to hear what was happening outside the tent walls. There’d be shouting and laughter, songs and teasing. Sometimes there was crying and men groaning through their injuries, but you ate those meals quickly.

As you eat, you look around the room. The Great Hall is decorated similarly to your chambers, with evergreen boughs, red berries, and candles that burn even in daylight, but there’s also an enormous tree at the far end of the hall. It’s lit with candles, just like the one you’d seen when you’d searched out Sam the day before. The tree stretches dozens of feet up, and you wonder how old it must be to have grown so tall. 

“We do not decorate like this in Athos,” you say, and all three Winchesters look at you in mild surprise. A bit embarrassed by their eyes on you, you falter slightly, but the interest on Sam’s face when you don’t continue spurs you on.

“You use plants here.” You gesture to the tree. “But we decorate with wooden carvings of our ancestors, and woven tapestries that we hang beside every door and window.”

“What are the tapestries?” Sam asks. His father and brother have gone back to eating, even though they still watch and listen, but he’s set down his fork and is now giving you his full attention.

“They’re different for each family. My family has tapestries that show the beginnings of our kingdom and the first king of Athos, and over the years, I have created many simple ones as gifts.”

“I’m sure they were wonderful,” Sam says. He holds your gaze for a moment before he smiles, and you smile back.

There’s a fluttering in your stomach. The clinking of John’s fork on the table makes you look away. There’s heat in your cheeks, much to your chagrin, and you exhale shakily. It’s strange to be so rattled. You’re not even sure why the conversation is affecting you so much. You’ve talked about Athoan traditions countless times before today with countless royals and monarchs. Something about Sam simply shakes you to your core.

John sips from his goblet, then gestures at Sam with the cup before he sets it back on the long table. “Samuel will show you the grounds today. I’m sure he can answer any questions you have about Ashela.”

Somewhat surprised that the King doesn’t plan to meet with you himself, you nod. It’s not atypical for kings to pass you off to one of their advisors, but you don’t mind it in this instance. You’re still weary from battle, and Sam is excellent company.

“Very well,” you reply, dipping your head just a little. You pick up your own goblet to take a sip. The drink is warm, thick, and rich, and you frown a little before peering inside the cup.

“Is everything alright?” Dean asks.

You nod and glance over at Lady Charlie. She picks up her own goblet and takes a sip as you set down yours. She pauses for a moment, her cup paused in midair, then smiles.

“Hot chocolate,” she murmurs. “It’s a traditional drink here.”

Raising an eyebrow at her, you whisper, “How do you know that?”

She gives you a sly smile and shakes her head. You know the look—she’ll tell you later.

You sit back in your seat and turn your attention to Dean, who’s still watching you. His father and Sam are both watching you now too, and Sam is frowning with obvious concern.

“Everything is fine,” you reassure them. “I’ve never had hot chocolate before. It’s delicious, John. You have fine cooks here in Ashela.”

He nods in response and stands. You stand as well, as does the rest of the table, and you watch as the King leaves through a door on one side of the Great Hall. 

Dean clears his throat. “I have duties to attend to, brother.” He claps a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Remember that Father said—”

Sam cuts him off. “I remember. Thank you, Dean.”

A moment later, Dean excuses himself, and you watch him leave, too. Sir Robert mumbles some excuse and bows to Sam before leaving as well, no doubt to study policies and look over ledgers in his own guest chambers. He’s always been a bit of a recluse, and there’s little privacy at the war camp. You suspect he’ll spend most of his time hidden away while you’re on respite.

You turn to Charlie. “You should rest,” you quietly tell her. “I know that you did not sleep much last night—”

“I’m fine,” she replies.

Shaking your head, you grab her hands and squeeze. “Please. I’ll feel better, even if you just relax by the fire. I feel awful that I’ve kept you up.”

Charlie nods, though you can tell she’s reluctant to leave you by the way her eyes cut to Sam. He’s pointedly staring at the candlelit evergreen and sipping his hot chocolate, giving you the semblance of privacy even though he’s mere feet away.

You squeeze her hands again and offer her an earnest smile. “I’m okay. I don’t mind being with him,” you say, soft enough that you’re certain Sam can’t hear from across the table. “He’s… nice.”

This makes her smile wide, and you can practically see all the possibilities she’s conjuring up in her head.

“Nice?” Charlie teases.

You playfully scoff and drop her hands, smoothing your skirt. Turning to Sam, you say, “I’m finished eating, if you’re ready to begin.”

Sam hums and sets his goblet down. “Will Lady Charlie be joining us?”

She takes that as her cue to shake her head and curtsy. After years of practice, the action is smooth, despite the fact that she hasn’t worn a formal gown in almost a year. She’d complained in private to you that morning that she wished the two of you could continue wearing trousers, and you’d agreed. The dresses that have been provided for you in Ashela are all too big, and you’d spent part of your morning being poked and prodded by the castle seamstress as she frantically altered the bodice to fit you. They might’ve fit before the war, but the fighting has given you more lean muscle than anything. Your own dresses back at Eryas Court will likely need altering when you finally return home.

“I have other things that require my attention, my Queen,” Charlie says, and she gracefully exits the Great Hall, though not before throwing you a meaningful look before the doors close behind her.

“Shall we?” Sam asks.

You jump, surprised to find that he’s come around to your side of the table and stopped alongside you while you watched your friend depart. He offers his arm and after a very brief moment of hesitation, you take it.

You and Sam traverse the grounds on foot, and he shows you the snow-covered gardens, the stables, the knights’ training field, and the arboretum where his mother is buried. Finally, he leads you to a frozen lake set far back from the castle. It’s surrounded by the same pine trees that seem to be everywhere in Ashela, and there’s a small wooden hut sheltered by the two largest. From inside, Sam pulls out sharpened blades with leather straps. It takes you a moment to realize that they’re for skating on the ice.

“Would you like to skate?” he asks.

“I’ve never been skating before,” you admit, and you look at the lake. It’s smooth and glossy, with few imperfections on its icy surface. You can’t help but wonder if it’s actually safe. Though ice skating has grown popular in Athos since the start of your reign, you’ve never allowed your court to participate. You’ve heard too many tales of the ice breaking under the skater’s weight. A small girl in the village had drowned just last winter.

“I’ll keep you safe, Y/N. You have my word.”

Scanning Sam’s face, you try to determine whether or not you can trust him, not just to lead you around and show you the castle grounds, but with your life. 

You place your hand in his after a long moment of deliberation. “You’ll have to show me how.”

He smiles, and it’s almost as bright as the sun on the snow. You let him lead you by the hand to the edge of the lake, where a downed tree has been positioned lengthwise. Sam helps you to sit, and then he very carefully kneels in the fresh, powdery snow to help attach the blades to your boots. The knees of his trousers are soaked with snow when he stands, but he doesn’t seem to care as he sits beside you and attaches the blades to his own boots. He helps you up with both hands, encouraging you as you wobble and sway in his grip.

“Move slowly,” he advises as he steps onto the lake, leading you onto the ice as he skates backwards.

It takes all your effort and concentration to stay upright at first, but with Sam’s encouragement and gentle guidance, you quickly get your bearings. You’re able to skate around the lake on your own after only an hour’s practice.

“You’re a natural!” Sam says as he skates beside you. His pace is surely slower than it would be on his own, and you smile over at him.

“Your assistance was a great help,” you tell him. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head a little. “I have the feeling that you would have been fine on your own.”

You fall into silence as you skate side by side, but a quarter hour later, you carefully stop a few feet away from the fallen tree. Sam stops as well and he holds his hands out to help you just in case something is wrong.

“Y/N?” he asks.

“You’ve been skating for a long time, haven’t you? For several years, at least?”

Though he seems confused by your sudden question, Sam nods. “Since I was a young boy.”

Smiling, you gesture with one hand toward the open expanse of the lake. “Show me what you can do, then. You must be very skilled.”

“I don’t know if “skilled” is the correct term…” He rubs the back of his neck with his dark green mittens, and you chuckle. His nose is pink, as are his ears from where they peek out from his furry hat.

“I’m not your queen, so I can’t command you, but I am your guest. Please show me?” you ask.

He’s smiling again. “Very well. Do you want to sit?” He gestures towards the tree, the other hand already reaching for your elbow.

You shake your head. “I will stand, thank you. Now go!” You shove at him, not enough to put him off-balance, but enough that he laughs and ducks his head before he skates away.

Sam is skilled. It only takes you a minute to figure out that he had been telling the truth—he’d been skating a long, long time. He moves with great ease over the ice, and you marvel at his speed. He flies by you three times before he slows, then stops sharply. A shower of ice flies up into the air before it rains down again. His breath comes out in heavy white puffs of fog and his chest heaves with exertion, but you’re smiling wide, giddy from the show.

You clap for him. “You underestimate yourself! You’re very fast!”

He laughs as he catches his breath. “Dean and I would race as children.” He points toward the far edge of the lake, where there’s a large gap between two trees. “There’s a river there, and we’d race from here to where it meets the forest road.” He pants for a second before looking back at you. “We should return. We’ve been out in the cold for a long time.”

Nodding in agreement, you let Sam lead you off the ice and back to the log, where you clumsily unstrap your skates. He takes them and puts them away while you fix your skirts, hat, and boots. When he returns, you stand and take his arm, and the two of you head back to the castle.

You eat a small meal when you return—mostly bread, cheese, and sausage—and it’s while you’re eating that you ask Sam for a second tour of the castle. He’s more than happy to oblige.

“All of these paintings,” you say as he escorts you down a long, decorated hallway, “They have similar styles, but the others you’ve shown me do not. Who painted these?”

“I did,” Sam replies.

You stop to stare at him. “You did?” You can’t hide your surprise, though you know it’s rude. “You painted them? All of them?” There must be at least two dozen in the hall.

He nods, and his cheeks are a little pink, though the castle is much too warm for it to be from the cold. “Yes, all of them.”

Turning back to the landscape he’d just named, you marvel at it. The colors are vibrant, matching the rest of the castle, and the gold details glimmer in the candlelight. Though the sun is going down outside and there’s little light coming in from the windows, you can still see everything clearly.

“It’s beautiful.”

“Would you like to see where I paint them?” he asks.

You look away from the painting to nod. “I would like that very much, yes.”

Sam smiles and offers you his arm again, and he begins to lead you down a narrow hallway that you hadn’t noticed before. You would have labeled it a servant’s passage had the lush carpet not continued down its length. There are wooden doors every few feet, but Sam ignores them and keeps walking.

After several minutes of walking, you come to the end of the hall and the last door, which is slightly higher than the rest. There are two steps leading up to it, but Sam needs neither to step into the room. You opt to take them, and he places a hand over your head so you don’t hit it against the wooden beams that border the opening.

Though the door is smaller than normal, the room is not. The ceiling stretches high up into one of the castle’s towers, and windows let light in even from high above. The wooden floor is swept clean, and an easel is set up near the largest of three windows at eye level. It’s big enough that you could sit in it and let your legs dangle outside of the tower. The window faces the arboretum, and if you squint, you can see the frozen lake in the distance.

A table with paints and brushes is set up beside the easel. Sam approaches it so naturally that you’re sure he must spend a lot of time in this room. 

“It reminds me of my study back home,” you quietly say, and Sam looks over at you as he picks up a brush and dips it into one of the pots of pigment.

“Do you like to paint?”

You shake your head with a small smile. “It’s not one of my talents. But I like to look at art. My castle is full of paintings, tapestries, and carvings.” You pause and watch as he adds brushstrokes to the painting on the easel, easily picking up where he’d left off. “You must paint something for my castle before I leave.”

“What would you like?” he asks.

You pause and look around the room as you think. There are several paintings leaning up against the rounded walls, along with piles of supplies that look like they might topple over any second.

“Could you paint the lake? In winter?” you finally request.

The room is quiet for a moment as Sam paints. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him. He’s staring at the canvas in front of him with his brush in mid-air, but then he turns and meets your eyes, as if he can feel you watching him.

“Why not in summer, when the grass is green and the sunlight makes the water glow? Or in spring, when the wildflowers are blooming? Or in autumn, when the wind blows clouds through the sky?”

He describes the seasons so well that you can picture the paintings in your mind, but you shake your head, not looking away.

“No. I want the lake in winter, so I can remember skating for the first time,” you explain.

He stares at you, and you stare back. Your heart feels like it’s out of control and you have to force yourself to break eye contact. All the while, your thoughts are scattered and though you know in your head that you should be more composed and that you shouldn’t be alone with him in such a remote part of the castle where there are no guards, Sam makes you feel safe.

“We should prepare for dinner,” he finally murmurs, breaking the spell that had fallen over the room.

You glance up at the windows to find that the sun has disappeared from the horizon. Darkness is creeping in, and shadows are stretching across the floor of Sam’s tower. Have you truly been so distracted that the time flew by that quickly?

Nodding in agreement, you step back out into the hallway and make your way down the narrow passage. Once in the main hall, Sam escorts you to your room in silence. Charlie is waiting for you there, and she helps you change into a more formal gown for dinner. She doesn’t utter a single word about the strange expression on your face, nor does she mention the fact that you’ve been without a guard all day.

The dinner is less formal than you were anticipating, and you fall into comfortable conversation with the King. He knew your father before you were born, though the last time they’d met was when you were a young girl. He tells you story after story of their times together, and you’re learning about their last visit when one of the Ashelan guards posted outside the Great Hall bursts in.

“Your Majesty,” he greets, hurriedly bowing to the King. “A messenger has just arrived for Queen Y/N. It’s an urgent matter.”

“Send them in,” John replies. He gestures toward the door and you stand as a haggard soldier in your colors staggers through. He’s supported on one side by another Ashelan guard, and your blood runs cold at the frantic look in your soldier’s eyes.

“Your Majesty.” He starts to bow but loses his balance. He only remains upright thanks to the guard beside him. He’s gasping for air.

“Peace, soldier,” you tell him, though you feel anything but. Your heart is pounding in your chest again and your hand trembles as you place it on the back of your chair. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you. “What news do you bring me?”

“A m— message from King Crowley, Ma’am. He says that if you do not surrender by Christmas, he will take Eryas Court.”

You stare at him for a moment, then scoff. “He cannot so boldly assume I will surrender! Have our armies held the camp?” you ask.

“No, Ma’am,” the soldier replies, and it feels like the floor has fallen out from underneath you. Your stomach twists as the soldier continues, “His men slaughtered our armies, and they have infiltrated the village. They have surrounded Eryas. The men returning to their families are at the keep, and are holding it as best as they are able, but they are tired, Ma’am.”

Lady Charlie gasps beside you, and you lift your chin, silently sending up a prayer. Crowley has caught you off guard, but you can’t show it.

You turn to look at John. “Is there a room I can use to speak with Sir Robert and send word to my captains?”

John nods and stands, directing his attention to the first guard. “Prepare my study for Queen Y/N and Sir Robert. Escort them there once it is ready, and have one of the servants available to fulfill any requests she might have,” he orders.

The guard nods and bows before hurrying back out into the hallway.

“And you,” John continues, looking at the guard supporting your weary soldier. “Take him to see the doctor. Get him a meal and fresh clothes, and prepare him a place to sleep.”

The soldier still has his eyes on you, and you quickly cross to him before the Ashelan guard can take him away. His entire body is covered with blood, sweat, and grime, and he smells like the worst parts of the battlefield. His legs shake when he struggles to stand straighter as you approach.

“You can trust the people here,” you gently tell the man. “Thank you for what you have done. You have brought your people great honor. Now, rest.”

The man salutes you and you bow your head, then watch in silence as the guard leads him out of the Great Hall and towards the servant’s door you’d passed earlier that day on your tour. Once he’s out of sight, you turn and face Sir Robert, who has moved to stand at the end of the table closest to you.

“I apologize for cutting our dinner short, John,” you say. He nods once. “Can I ask that Lady Charlie be escorted back to my chambers once she is finished dining?”

Charlie stands from her seat. “I’m already finished, my Queen, and if it pleases you, I shall stay to assist you.”

You could cry at the loyalty and care from your friend, and you almost do. You catch yourself, however, and you swallow the lump that forms in your throat. John and Dean are talking in hushed tones, but Sam is watching you. His eyes are sad and you have to look away as soon as you notice. You’re barely holding it together as is, and you’re sure that he can tell.

The guard assigned by King John to escort you to his study appears in the doorway, and you quickly follow after him. He leads you down the main hallway and up a set of stairs to a dark wooden door that you’d glimpsed earlier. He opens it in silence, then closes it once you, Sir Robert, and Charlie are inside. 

Almost immediately, you brace your hands on the large table in the center of the room and hang your head. A sob escapes you and Charlie places a comforting hand on your back as you let out a few more. The tears run across your cheeks to the bridge of your nose, then drip onto the table beneath you as you cry.

Sir Robert stands in silence until you’re able to compose yourself a few minutes later. He’s watching the flames flicker in the fireplace with his back to you.

“How many men have we lost today?” you ask, dabbing at your face with the handkerchief Charlie has somehow produced.

“ There were 6,000 in the garrison when we left,” he answers. There’s no emotion in his voice and a small part of you feels ashamed for crying, but you push that thought away before it can fester.

“And how many do you think are defending the keep right now?”

Sir Robert turns. His expression is grave and the light and shadows from the fire deepen the wrinkles on his face. 

“Less than 5,000, if I had to guess.”

You sigh heavily and look back down at the table, then straighten until you’re standing tall again. You cross the room to stare out the window. From the King’s study, you can see the gardens, which means you’re on the opposite side of the castle from the tower where Sam paints. Silently, you start to pace the length of the large fur covering the floor between two shelves of ancient books. Lady Charlie sits at the table while Sir Robert remains by the fireplace, and both of them watch as you walk back and forth.

Nobody speaks until you stop, but there’s a knock at the door right before you can admit that you have no solution that won’t end in a sorrowful amount of bloodshed. You turn to look as the door opens, revealing King John.

“Y/N,” he greets. “I may have something that will assist you.”

You turn to face him fully. “What is it?”

He walks to an elaborately carved chest on the mantle and carefully removes a rolled parchment. It’s sealed with wax, but there are two seals. Curious, you meet John at the table. Charlie stands to make room for the two of you. It only takes a second for you to recognize the crests imprinted into the seals.

“What is this? Why does this hold my family’s crest?” you question.

“And mine,” he adds. “This decree was created and signed by your father and I during our last visit together. I promised to keep it safe until the right time had come.”

“The right time had come? For what, John? How come I’ve never heard of this?”

He glances at you, then breaks the seals and unrolls the parchment. It’s yellowed with time, but the words are written in black ink and they’re as clear as day.

“Let it be known that on this day, Y/N Y/L/N of Athos and Samuel Winchester of Ashela are betrothed in marriage. Upon agreement from both parties or in time of need, they shall be wed and the marriage shall be consummated within a fortnight,” John reads, and you feel yourself falter. Charlie places a hand on your back to help keep you upright.

“Athos shall be ruled by Y/N as the heir apparent, and any heirs produced by Y/N and Samuel shall become the next heirs. An alliance shall be formed between Athos and Ashela at the time of marriage. This betrothal can only be broken by death or upon act of God.”

At the bottom of the parchment, there are two signatures. Only one is familiar to you, and the world tilts around you for a moment when you see it.

“I beg your pardon,” you say, your mouth suddenly very dry. “But this cannot be true. I would know if I were already betrothed.”

John places the parchment on the table and it rolls up again. “Nonetheless, your father has signed it and stamped it with his royal seal. You are betrothed to my son, and in agreement with the decree, our kingdoms will be allied after your marriage is consummated.”

A dark shadow in the doorway makes you look up. Sam ducks into the room, his eyes immediately scanning the people in the study. When he sees the distress on your face, he frowns, but he answers to his father first.

“You called for me, Father?” he asks.

“I did.”

John picks up the parchment again and hands it to Sam, who unrolls it and reads it over. You watch his eyes scan the words once, twice, then three times before he looks up. He glances at you for a split-second.

“This must be false,” Sam finally says. “I would know if I was betrothed! You would have told me a long time ago!”

“Why do you think I never pressured you to marry, as I did your brother?” John asks.

Sam clearly doesn’t have an answer because he turns his attention to where you’re standing behind his father. “Did you know about this?” he asks.

You shake your head, hands clasped in front of you. “I did not. I’m just as shocked as you are.”

“I can’t believe that you are treating Y/N like this! She is in the middle of trying to save her people and you’re scheming!” Sam accuses. He’s glowering down at his father, even though he’s only a few inches taller.

John scoffs. “Samuel—”

“You say that this was created when we were children? And yet it has remained hidden from us until now? Why wouldn’t my father have told me about my own betrothal?” you ask, relieved that Sam is just as angry and surprised as you. It stings a little that he seems disinterested in marrying you, but you have more important problems than your feelings.

Sir Robert speaks up from where he still stands by the fireplace, and you whirl to face him when he says, “The betrothal is real. I witnessed the decree when it was written.” His expression softens when you meet his eyes, shocked at his revelation. “I had just been appointed as your father’s advisor. It was the first decree I helped him create.”

You can’t help but feel betrayed. “You helped him? All this time, you knew about this, and yet you never said a word?”

He nods, and there seems to be genuine regret in his eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Why now?” Sam questions. “Of all the times, Father, why would you tell us now?”

John gestures to the parchment in Sam’s hands. “You’re to marry whenever you agree there’s an opportune time, or if there’s ever a time of great need. If you marry, an alliance will be formed between our kingdoms. I can send our armies to help defeat Elcium and save Y/N’s people. Your people, once the marriage is consummated. Your enemies will become my enemies.”

Torn between a mix of anger and humiliation, you turn your back on the men, taking a few steps away from the table to stare out the window. Has it really come to this? Will you really have to marry to save your people?

There’s a shuffling of papers behind you, and the crackle of the fire, but nobody dares to speak. You know that they’re all waiting for you to make the decision. Though you’ve only known him for a few days, you’re certain that Sam would never force you to marry him and follow through with the decree. 

“Would you form an alliance without marriage?” you finally ask, without turning around.

A beat passes, and then John answers, “Think over what I’ve said, Y/N. I will be in the Great Hall, awaiting news.”

He leaves after that, and you hear Sir Robert and Charlie excuse themselves as well, which leaves you alone with Sam. He keeps his distance from you as you continue to stare out the window with your arms wrapped around yourself. Despite the fire, you’re cold all the way down to your bones, and you shiver.

“What are you thinking?” Sam finally asks. His voice is gentle, hesitant even, in the silence of the study.

“I don’t know.” You shake your head. “This isn’t…”

“Did you dream of marrying someday?”

Surprised at the question, you have to stay quiet and mull it over. Then, after a few moments, you nod. “Yes,” you tell him, quieter than before. “Someday. I knew it was probably expected of me too, but then Crowley invaded…”

“And you had to put the needs of your people before your own desires,” Sam guesses.

“It’s my duty as queen.”

Your father’s words return to your head, ringing loud and clear as a bell.

“Sometimes doing what’s best for your people isn’t immediately what’s best for you, Y/N, but if you’re lucky enough, the two will align.”

Turning around, you smooth your skirt and meet Sam’s gaze. “As is marrying you,” you say.

“You’re not going to oppose the decree?” he asks. Sam sounds genuinely surprised, and he steps closer. He’s still in his dinner clothes, though you know he had time to change. 

“I don’t have a choice,” you admit. “If I don’t marry you, your father won’t aid my men, and my people will die. My kingdom will be taken and I’ll spend the rest of my life in prison or as a servant to Crowley, unless he decides to kill me, which is unlikely. Crowley is a ruthless king, and he tortures for sport.”

Something hardens in Sam’s eyes, and his jaw clenches. “You can stay here indefinitely as my guest. I wouldn’t let him do that to you.”

“And I wouldn’t live in hiding while my people suffer,” you counter. Closing the distance between you, you reach out and grasp Sam’s hands in yours. “I will understand if you choose not to marry me. It is your choice, and I will live with whatever decision is made.”

“Why wouldn’t I marry you?” he asks. 

“I don’t wish to force you—”

“You wouldn’t be,” Sam says, cutting you off. “Though I haven’t known you long, Y/N, I find you wonderful company. You’re kind, intelligent, brave, and you care deeply for your people. I could not ask for more in a wife, though I hope we can become friends first.”

You duck your head, caught off guard by his praise. Sam crooks one finger underneath your chin and lifts it until your eyes meet his again.

“You’re beautiful, too,” he murmurs. “Far more so than any woman I’ve ever met.”

“I… Don’t know what to say,” you admit. After months of fighting and living in the war camp, the tenderness in Sam’s voice and his touch is foreign to you.

“Say that you’ll marry me. Say that we’ll save your people before any more harm can be done.”

Silently, you nod. You don’t look away as Sam smiles wide, his eyes full of a joy so complete that it makes your chest ache just from witnessing it. He pulls you close, crushing you against him as he hugs you tightly, and you gasp in surprise.

“I’ll tell my father to make the necessary arrangements,” Sam says as he pulls away. “The sooner we are married, the sooner we can rescue your men.”

You nod again, a bit numb as Sam kisses you on the forehead, narrowly missing the bruise, and hurries out into the hallway. His footsteps are quick and the sound fades before you can even recognize that he’s truly left you alone in the study.

“Y/N?”

Charlie appears in the doorway and you turn to her, trembling hands clasped in front of you.

“Are you well?” she asks. She steps into the room and you can immediately tell that she’d heard the whole conversation between you and Sam. The walls and doors are thick here, but Charlie is an expert at eavesdropping.

“I— I’m getting married,” is all you can reply.

She gives you a knowing look and then carefully guides you to sit in one of the high-backed chairs near the fire. The warmth helps to soothe the shock from finding out your kingdom was most certainly doomed, then from finding out it would be safe once you were married. Your world is changing so quickly that you can hardly keep up.

“He’s a good man,” she tells you.

“I know he is,” you reply, staring at the fire. It makes your eyes water but you can’t look away. If you do, you might cry for real for the second time today. Your emotions have been twisted by so many things and people today that you’re unsure of how to feel.

“It’s okay to be scared.”

You turn your head just enough to show that you’re listening, but you don’t look away from the fire.

“You’ve been through so much, Y/N, and I know you believe that queens should not show their weakness, but you forget that you are also just a woman,” Charlie continues.

This time, you turn to look at her. “But I am not just a woman, Charlie.”

She gives you a gentle smile, then reaches out with one hand to squeeze yours. “When you’re with Prince Samuel, you are.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you admit, your voice breaking. You clutch her hand with both of yours when she moves to pull away, turning in your seat so you can better face her. “What if he expects me to spend more time being a wife than being a queen? I cannot afford to give up who I am because of a man.”

Charlie considers your question for several long moments before she sighs and collects your hands completely in hers. She holds your gaze as she says, “You are brave for doing this. I cannot tell you what to expect, but I can tell you that I have heard many things from the ladies and the servants here in Ashela. All of them, every single one, has told me that Prince Samuel is as wonderful as he seems. I do not think that you have very much to fear, but I will be by your side no matter what you face.”

You inhale deeply, closing your eyes, and then breathe out. Charlie waits patiently as you try to collect yourself, and her presence is enough reassurance that it doesn’t take you very long.

Finally, you nod and stand.

She does the same, dropping your hands. “Now, I need to get you ready!”

“Ready?” you ask, and Charlie laughs. She guides you out of the study and into the hallway.

“For your wedding! I can’t give you the prettiest dress, but I’ve asked around and we’ve come up with something that I think will work.”

A spark of excitement grows inside of you as she chatters on about her plans for the impromptu wedding. It’s amazing to you that she’s managed to work so quickly, but you don’t question it. Charlie has many ways of doing many things, some of which are better left unsaid.

Soon, you find yourself back in your guest chambers. Charlie helps you into a plain ivory dress, then fixes your hair. You sit quietly as she works, and when a handful of Ashelan maids and ladies start to swarm around you, you simply close your eyes. It’s been a long day, and exhaustion is starting to creep in.

“The Queen needs to rest before the ceremony,” Charlie announces, and you open your eyes just enough to see the women leaving. She starts to blow out the extra candles, until there’s only one remaining beside your bed.

“You only have an hour,” she murmurs as you carefully climb under the covers. She helps you arrange your dress so that it won’t become wrinkled.

Nodding tiredly, you rest your head back against the pillow she props up for you. “Thank you, Charlie. For everything.”

She smooths a hand over your hair and sits in the chair beside you, closing her eyes as well. She doesn’t have to say anything for you to know that she’s staying close to help you sleep. 

The ceremony is simple. You don’t expect much, but John rouses enough servants for there to be an arch of evergreen placed at the end of the Great Hall, and there’s a bouquet of branches and berries for you, as well. Sam dons his royal robes and a thin crown with vibrant gemstones that sparkle in the candlelight from the nearby tree. John and Dean change clothes too, and somehow Charlie finds a new dress just in the nick of time. Only you aren’t wearing something elaborate. It stings a little—you’d once imagined your wedding day as an occasion to remember, but now you could simply melt away into the background and it’s quite possible that nobody would even notice. It gives you a miserable feeling in the pit of your stomach, and when you pass by a mirror on the way to the Great Hall, you have to look away. Tears prick at your eyes before you can stop them. 

A priest marries you with little grandeur, and in only a few words, you find yourself bound to Sam in marriage. It’s not even dawn on Christmas Eve when he leads you by the arm back out of the Great Hall. Charlie stays behind with Sir Robert to help prepare the carriages for travel while he advises John on where to send his armies, and when you arrive at Sam's chambers, they’re empty. You’re alone with him for the first time as husband and wife.

“We should leave for Athos immediately,” Sam says, and you nod in silence. He lets go of your arm once the door shuts behind you, then hurries into a separate, adjoining room. You set your bouquet down on a nearby table.

Through the curtained archway, you can see a bed similar to the one in your guest chambers, as well as a writing desk and another easel. Sam’s sword is propped up against the wall near the fireplace, and a bow and arrow are laid haphazardly on a nearby dining table. The room is decorated for Christmas, just like the rest of the castle, though the greenery here is minimal. Where you would expect to see much of his personal belongings, there are empty spaces that leave you feeling strangely out of place. His chambers are practically bare except the furniture and the decorations.

Sam goes behind a dressing screen and you look away, heat in your cheeks at the thought of being alone with him while he undresses. It’s not the first time you’ve been alone with a man in a similar state of dress—you’ve lived in a camp full of soldiers, many of whom are careless—but it’s the first time where something could be expected of you.

“Sam?” you call out, staring at the candle on the window ledge nearest to you. Outside, the sun is just barely beginning to rise. Its rays are slowly stretching over the snowy landscape, revealing the hundreds of pine trees and the lake whose frozen surface glitters in the light.

“Yes?” You hear him pause and the room falls silent. When you don’t immediately answer, you hear some quick shuffling, and then he’s coming out from behind the screen and approaching you.

“Y/N?” he asks.

You turn, and Sam is standing before you in plain clothes. There’s no trace of the robes or the crown. The only thing that would give away his royal status is the signet ring on his left pinky. There’s a plain gold ring on the finger beside it, which matches the one he’d given you during the ceremony.

“Your father said our kingdoms would only be allied once our marriage was… consummated,” you say, deciding to use the same language as John, though you know there are easier ways to say what you mean.

“I do not expect anything of you,” Sam gently replies.

“But your father—”

Sam shakes his head. “He does not need to know what’s between you and I.”

You’re holding your breath; you can’t breathe a sigh of relief until you’re absolutely sure Sam will go along with the ruse. “You will lie to your own father? Your king?”

He’s quiet for only a moment before he answers, “He is not my king any longer. I am married to you. I am your husband, and you are my queen. I will tell him whatever I must to ensure that your people are safe.”

You gingerly take his hand and allow yourself to breathe again. “Our people, Sam.” You pause to look up at him, offering him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you.”

He nods and leans in to kiss you on the cheek. “We should leave. I am ready, if you are.”

“Don’t you want your things?” you ask, glancing around his chambers. 

Sam lets go of your hand, then walks around his room. He gathers his sword, a book from beside the bed, and a small wooden case from near the easel before he returns to your side. You take the book and the case from him so he can strap the sword around his waist, then hand them back to him.

“The servants have already brought many of my things to the carriage. The rest can be brought another time.”

Nodding, you take Sam’s arm and let him lead you out of his chambers, through the castle, and to the waiting carriages. There are three of them, two of which belong to you, and another that is clearly Ashelan. It rocks as the occupants move around.

John, Dean, and two of your guards are waiting at the open door of the middle carriage when you arrive. As you walk the gray stone path leading away from the castle, you catch a glimpse of Sir Robert as he climbs into the carriage at the front of the line.

“Y/N,” John greets. He nods politely to you, then to Sam. “My men are already on the way to Athos. Sir Robert has been helpful in ensuring they will be of sufficient help to you. I have also sent word to Crowley to inform him of our newly formed alliance. I suppose everything went well after you retired to Sam’s chambers?”

He raises an eyebrow at his son, who nods once. The implications of his words weigh heavily in the winter air, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, trying not to look nervous or uncomfortable. You cannot give away the lie.

“All is well,” Sam replies. He smiles a little and places a hand over where yours rests on his arm. “She is ready to travel now.”

Dean hugs his brother goodbye, then leads you toward the carriage. He stops a few feet away and holds his hand out to one of your guards, who produces a familiar sword.

“I believe this is yours?” Dean asks.

You smile, relieved that you’re once reunited with your father’s blade. “Yes, thank you.”

Taking the sword, you fasten it around your waist. The weight is comfortable, and it bumps against your thigh as Dean helps you into the carriage.

Meanwhile, Sam talks quietly with John. You’re too anxious to eavesdrop once you’re alone, so you sit back on the seat and try to keep your breathing even as Sam finally climbs into the carriage and the door shuts behind him. He sits opposite you, where Charlie would normally sit. It feels strange to not travel with her by your side, but you remind yourself that she’s in the next carriage, and that you’ll see her again when you arrive in Athos.

Moments later, the horses lurch forward. You sway with the movement, and Sam reaches out to place a steadying hand on your arm. You offer him a small smile before you sit back once more.

The sun rises as you journey to Athos, just like it does every day, and you cling to that normalcy. Even as you wring your hands, your mind whirling with every possible outcome of the coming battle, the sun continues on its path. You find yourself glancing out the window at it more often than usual. The snow outside is beginning to melt and drip from the tree branches as the temperature warms from the light, and as the horses carry you closer to home, the snow starts to disappear entirely, replaced with mud and trampled grass left in the wake of tired soldiers and weary knights.

Suddenly, Sam shifts to sit beside you, and he takes your hand without a word. You stare at him, baffled by his strange actions, but he doesn’t say anything, nor does he look at you. Finally, you look back out the window. His thumb rubs over the dry, scarred skin of your hand, and though it’s foreign to hold hands with a man you barely know, there’s something comforting about his presence. It’s soothing enough that you doze off for a while, grasping at what little rest you’re allowed during the journey. He holds your hand the entire time.

After the half-day ride, the carriages arrive in the village that surrounds Eryas Court. You release Sam’s hand and sit forward on the bench to give yourself a better view through the window. 

The houses and shops that you’ve grown up around have been burnt and destroyed, and there’s rubble lining the cobblestone paths. Wooden stalls and stables have been smashed into splinters, and stone buildings have begun to cave in on themselves. Your breath hitches when you see blood staining a wall.

“Where are the people?” you ask, your voice cracking. “Where are my people?” The question is desperate, meant for nobody but the world, and you feel Sam pulling you away from the window a few seconds later.

“Let me go!” you bark at him.

He pulls you back a second time, and you twist in your seat, angry and aching with grief, but you stop when you see him.

Sam’s expression is grave. “We don’t know who’s out there. You are not dressed in your armor, and you are giving Crowley’s archers an easy shot. Until we know what’s happening, you need to stay hidden,” he advises.

You stare at him for a moment, then nod mutely. All the anger drains out of you, because he’s right, and you’re no use to your people if you’re dead.

While leaning back against the wall of the carriage, you can still see enough through the window to tell that the destruction starts to lessen as you near the keep. The pressure in your chest starts to ease when the noise of villagers and soldiers talking reaches you, and you exhale shakily when you hear someone call out,

“Make way! The Queen is here!”

There’s a commotion outside the carriage. Cheering erupts as soon as the first person spies you through the windows. Sam’s hand finds yours again. He squeezes, and you squeeze back even harder, clutching his hand as the carriage moves through the crowd and into the guarded castle.

When the carriage stops, you and Sam wait until the door is opened by guard. They help Sam out first, then you. You don’t know what to expect as you exit, but you’re relieved to find that most of your castle is still intact.

“Eryas Court lives on, Your Majesty,” someone says, and you turn to find Sir Robert walking from his own carriage. Charlie is close behind, and you start to smile.

“Indeed, Sir Robert,” you tell him. “It seems the battle was over before we even arrived.”

After a moment, you laugh and pull him into a hug. It’s improper, but you find tears brimming in your eyes when he murmurs in your ear, reminding you that your father would be proud of how you’d handled the invasion.

“Welcome to Athos, Your Majesty,” Charlie says.

You release Sir Robert and turn to where Sam and Charlie stand off to one side. He gives her a short bow as she dips into a curtsy. An Ashelan man is standing on the other side of Sam. You recognize him as one of the men from your breakfast the day before. There are several Ashelan servants helping yours unload the carriages, as well.

“It’s a beautiful kingdom,” Sam says to you. “How long has Eryas Court been standing?”

“Four generations,” you proudly reply. “Would you like a tour?”

He opens his mouth to answer, but the conversation is put to a halt when the captain of the guard approaches and bows in your direction. 

“Your Majesty,” he greets. He does the same for Sam before turning back to you. “I bring word from the fields.”

“How are my men?” you ask. Your expression grows serious as you focus on the matter at hand. Sam stays silent, allowing you to do your job without interference.

“We have lost many, but we have made it through the darkest nights. Elcium has retreated, and they have dropped their banners. They stand with white flags now.”

You raise your eyebrows, unable to keep your expression neutral. “They have surrendered?”

He nods. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“That’s very good news, Captain,” you tell him, smiling. “Tell them that we will negotiate terms after Christmas. I will expect a full report then, but I have other matters to attend to tonight. I will also expect to see your wounded, and I would like a full list of the dead. Please ensure that any news about the Ashelan soldiers is sent to King John, and also reported to King Sam.” You gesture to Sam without looking his way.

Your captain bows to both of you, then heads back the way he had come. Satisfied with the news, you turn back to Sam with a wide smile.

“Let me show you my home.”

Sam smiles back at you, then offers you his arm. Before you leave with him, you instruct Charlie to make sure everything is in order after the maids unpack your and Sam’s belongings in your chambers. She agrees with a smile brighter than you’d seen on her in a long time.

You and Sam walk the castle grounds most of the afternoon, stopping only to have tea. You show him your favorite spots, tell him stories of your childhood, and you show him the study you’d abandoned after inheriting your father’s. The windows there overlook the wildflower fields, and the river beyond. Though there’s no flowers in bloom now, he assures you that the frozen river is subject enough for his paintings.

As the sun begins to set, you and Sam retire to your chambers. They’re smaller than you remember, and it feels cramped as the two of you prepare for sleep. You’d never opted to take on your father’s chambers when he passed, instead choosing to stay in the rooms you’d had your whole life.

Charlie helps you change into a sleeping gown, and behind an opposite dressing screen, you hear Sam and the Ashelan lord—Castiel—talking quietly. When the two of you emerge, you share nervous smiles as Castiel and Charlie leave to go to their own quarters.

“I’m not quite ready to sleep,” you say after the door finally closes behind them. You keep your distance, unsure of how to act now that you’re alone.

Sam nods. “I’ll try to keep to myself, so there’s room when you are ready to retire.”

You glance at the bed, then back at him. “Perhaps I will go to bed early then.”

He frowns a little and searches your face for something, clearly trying to figure out why you’ve changed your plans. Truthfully, you don’t want him to have to try and make himself small. You’re already feeling too many emotions; you don’t want to add guilt into the mix. 

You smile as if you don’t know what he’s thinking, then head to the bed and climb under the covers on one side. Charlie has warmed the heavy blankets with irons, and the furs from last year’s hunts still provide you with plenty of warmth. 

Sam watches, still standing in place, until finally you let out a sigh.

“I’m perfectly okay sharing a bed with you,” you tell him. “We are husband and wife. If we don’t lie together, it will raise suspicions.”

“And I am prepared to face them.”

“Do you really not want to share a bed with me?” you ask, a little hurt by his resistance.

His eyes widen slightly and he shakes his head. “I do not want you to be afraid of me, nor of expectation that I might—”

“I am not afraid of you.” You sit up in the bed, suddenly aware of the nighttime chill in your chambers as the blankets fall from your chest. “I have fought in many battles, and I have seen many horrible things. Sharing a bed with a kind, gentle man who is now my husband is not a fear that I possess, Sam Winchester. Even so, I am capable of much more than you may realize, and I am not afraid of anything you could possibly do to me.”

He stares at you for a moment, and then a small smile appears on his face. “Very well.”

You lay back as Sam crosses the room and climbs into bed beside you. Both of you lay on your backs, staring up at the fabric canopy. You want to talk—you feel like you should, anyway—but the events of the past few days start to catch up with you, and you find your thoughts beginning to wander as Sam’s breathing grows slower on the other side of the bed. He falls asleep before you, but not by much.

When you wake, there’s a heavy weight over your waist and hot breath against the back of your neck. Your legs are intertwined with Sam’s and your back is pressed up against his chest. It’s not uncomfortable, but you lie and stare at the wall, trying to figure out how you and Sam have become so entangled. Surely, you would have kicked him during your nightmares.

“Are you awake?”

His question is barely a whisper, but then Sam shifts and you feel him raise himself up on his elbow to look down at you. He’s checking to see if you’re asleep, you realize.

You turn your head to meet his eyes in the darkness. “Yes,” you answer. “I’m awake.”

He sighs softly and lays back down, resuming the close contact from before. You wonder if you should push away. Is it improper to sleep like this if you don’t know each other, even if you’re married? Does it matter?

“Can I ask…” You finally begin, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room again. “When we went to sleep, we were not touching.”

“No,” Sam answers. His breath tickles the hairs at the nape of your neck and you fidget under the covers, but you don’t pull away. “You were dreaming. It was a nightmare.”

“Oh.”

You can imagine why he’s pulled you close now. Without Charlie sitting by your bedside, there had been some anxiety over if you’d sleep through the night, but Sam’s comforting touch seems to have soothed you. For the first time in weeks, you feel well-rested.

“It’s Christmas,” you say after another minute has passed.

Sam yawns and his thumb strokes against your stomach. His voice is drowsy in your ear.

“So it is,” he replies.

“Merry Christmas, Sam.”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

You turn in his arms until you’re facing him, and you carefully place one hand on his chest. It feels natural to be this close and to lean against him, and Sam watches you with half-mast eyes as you get comfortable. When you do, however, you don’t know what to say. You stare at each other, listening to the castle stir awake. Finally, you lay your head down on him. He helps you get comfortable, and then you close your eyes. You can hear Sam’s heartbeat.

“We’re married,” you murmur.

He hums. “So we are.”

“What do we do now?”

“Celebrate Christmas, I suppose.”

You move your hand, unconsciously fidgeting with the tie on Sam’s sleep shirt. “Can we stay here for a while first?”

Sam presses a kiss to the top of your head and you smile to yourself, even though you know he could probably see.

“Yes, Y/N. We certainly can,” he answers.

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[holylulusworld]

Surrogate or Love

Summary: Dean is ready to have a baby. Just not the way you’d like to have it…

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Bestfriend!Reader

Square 11 filled for @spnfluffbingo (expired): Childhood sweethearts

Square 5 filled for @spnchristmasbingo: Friends to lovers

Warnings: angst, language, a hint of crack, wish for a baby, flirty John, alcohol abuse, drunkness, talk about being a surrogate

Words: 2,2 k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“Dean, whoa…slow down,” you try to keep up with Dean’s long steps. He came to your apartment, and stormed right in, barely greeting you. “What happened? Where is the fire? You said something about an emergency.”

“It’s…you know,” he looks at the manila folders in his hands. Five manila folders filled with everything he’ll need to convince you to agree to his suggestion. “I got an important question. No…I mean.”

“Dean, take a deep breath,” you chuckle. “It’s only me. We are best friends since childhood. There is no need to be nervous around me. I’ve seen all of you. Every side. Even the ugly ones…”

“I want you to have my baby,” he blurs out. You want to laugh and tell him that’s the best joke he ever told you but he looks so serious.Hands clutching the manila folders to his chest he looks at you. “What do you say?”

“You’re not fucking with me, Winchester?” quirking a brow you look at Dean. “Dean, this is a bad idea…or not. I mean…we didn’t even have sex—”

“Oh…no…no!” he chuckles nervously. “We don’t need to have sex. I will beat my meat and use a cup…or something. The doctor said they’ll take my seed and we can use the eggs from her…”

“Her?” you watch Dean open one of the folders to show you the information about an egg donator. “You—you want me to have the baby of another woman? I-I don’t understand. My eggs are just fine.”

“I want you to be my surrogate. I thought it’s easier if the egg is not yours,” you feel like someone just punched you in the guts.

“Oh, my eggs are not good enough for you, huh?” you sarcastically say. “Why do you want me to be a surrogate? I don’t understand.”

“I only want a child, not a relationship, Y/N,” Dean swallows thickly when you turn away from him. “I thought we can do this together. We are friends and you’ll get a lot of money.”

“I don’t want to be a surrogate, you asshole!” you sniffle. “I want a child for so long. We could just…I mean we are best friends. We could’ve had a child together. But you are, just like all the other guys I know – an idiot who won’t settle down. You want a kid without a mother. You selfish prick. What the fuck is wrong with men?”

“Prick? I—no. Sweetheart.”

You start to pace back and forth in your living room. 

“There I thought you come around to talk about your plans for Christmas Eve. Now you want me to become your birthing machine,” you groan audibly. “I guess Lisa was right, I should go for an elder man just like her. She found a nice guy and father for Ben.”

“An elder man,” Dean splutters. “What do you mean with an elder man?“

“A DILF. A hot elder guy who is ready to take responsibility and take care of me and his baby,” you nod to yourself. “Someone like your daddy. John is hot with his salt-and-pepper beard, and those hazel eyes.”

“My father? You want my father to give you a baby?” your friend panics now. He chokes on his words and drops the manila folders to the ground. “You can’t do this!”

“Why not? He’s divorced and single. John made you and Sammy,” humming you look at the folders on the floor. “He’ll be a good daddy and father. Maybe I should agree to go out with him next time he asks me out.”

“My father asked you out?” Dean steps closer to you to size you up. “When? How often? Why? I swear I’ll kill him.”

“That’s none of your business, Mr. be my surrogate,” you bite back. “If you want a baby, go, and find someone else playing your birthing machine. I’ll go for your daddy. He will gladly fuck me to get me full of his baby!”

“WHAT?” Dean stutters. “You can’t be serious. My father is a womanizer and he’ll eat you alive. There is no way he’ll give you a baby and raise it with you.”

“Well, it’s enough he wants to fuck me,” you shoot back, hitting Dean hard. “I bet he’s more than willing to give me all the orgasms I need and want. The baby will be a bonus.”

“Sweetheart…no…I…”

You shove Dean toward the door, not stopping when he begs you to listen to him.

“Get out of my home and fuck off. I can’t believe I wasted so much time finding the perfect Christmas gift for you.”

“Y/N, please wait…” you open the door and shove Dean out. “Sweetheart…I’m sorry.”

“No. You’re not,” slamming the door in his face you huff. “Dean Winchester never says he’s sorry and means it. You told me so years ago.”

“Doll, hey,” John jogs after you. He caught a glimpse of you at your favorite café and now he tries to get you to join him for coffee. “Long time no see!”

“Mr. Winchester, hey,” you swallow thickly as you remember the conversation you had with his son not two weeks ago. “How have you been?”

“Good…good,” John smirks as you nervously shake his offered hand. “Dean came around the other day. He asked me a lot of questions.”

“Oh-what kind of questions?” you stammer. “I haven’t seen Dean for the better of two weeks. Whatever he said didn’t have anything to do with you. We got into a fight and…”

“He wanted to know if I ever asked you out,” John smirks. “And he was mad at me for no reason.” The bastard licks his lips; the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth. “We could give him a reason to be mad at me.”

Fuck, no. Dean went to John and tried to find out if you told him the truth. 

“Listen…I’m sorry for dragging you into our fight. I was just so mad at Dean for asking me to become his surrogate.”

“He did what?” John chokes out. “You didn’t get him wrong. Maybe he wanted you to be his baby mama.”

“Right? That was my reaction exactly,” you chuckle humorlessly. “I thought he wants us to have a baby together. I can’t count how many times I told him about my wish for a baby.”

“Dean also told me you are looking for someone more…mature.”

You wish the ground will open and just swallow you. “No—he didn’t.” You whine loudly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, John. What I said to Dean…I…I wanted to make him jealous.”

“Don’t be sorry, doll,” John takes another step toward you and cups your cheek with his right hand. “If you want me to be your baby daddy, I’ll do it. I always had a thing for sweet little things like you.”

“John,” you squeak. His cologne fills your nostrils and his hand on your cheek feels a little too warm. “I-I don’t…I didn’t.”

“If you ever change your mind,” he leans closer to peck your nose, “give me a call. If not, you should talk to my son. He’s a mess without you, doll…”

“Y/N!!! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR OR I’LL KICK IT OPEN!” Dean growls from outside of your apartment. “I know you are home, sweetheart. Please let me in. I got a better idea.”

“Winchester, it’s in the middle of the night,” you open your door to yell at Dean. “I’ve got neighbors, ya know. I’m not like you, owning a whole fucking penthouse.”

“Sweetheart, you’re alive.”

Just now you realize Dean is drunk. He looks at you with glassy eyes, slurs your name, and offers another manila folder to you. “Winchester, what are you doing here?”

“Daddy said you met him this morning,” he sniffs. “He wants to give you a baby but he can’t. I wanna give you a baby.”

Dean drops his gaze to his crotch. “Wait—just lemme get him up. I can give you more than one baby. Just a moment. Fuck…”

He sighs deeply as you watch him pat his cock with the manila folder. “What are you doing Dean? You’re drunk and…” you chuckle as he talks to his cock.

“Get up buddy. We got work to do,” Dean mutters. “Come on. Don’t leave me hanging.” He curses loudly. “You always get up when we are around her. Now we need to make a baby and you won’t—”

“Jesus, come inside,” you grab Dean’s arm to drag him inside your apartment. “Why are you even here?”

“I can’t let you fuck my dad,” Dean grumbles as you shove him toward your sofa. “He’s not going to lay his hands on you, sweetheart. I wanna put my hands on you for too long. He’ll steal you.”

“You’re wasted, Winchester,” you’re angry enough to push Dean down onto your sofa. “I’ll call your brother. Maybe he’s still awake and will pick your drunk ass up.”

“No, I need to show you my plan,” he clumsily opens the manila folder to show you a picture Sam took years ago. You’re sitting on the hood of Dean’s car. He has one arm slung around your shoulders and grins into the camera. 

“What’s this?” you frown deeply. “An old picture is your plan. I don’t understand. Do you want some crazy scientist to clone your cocky ass?”

He snickers. “Nah, I wanna fertilize your eggs.” Dean grins dopily. “You know, play hide the salami with you. You and I will have so much sex to get you pregnant.” He nods to himself. “I always knew you’ll become my wife.”

“Dean, you can’t be serious,” you laugh loudly as he starts to unbuckle his belt. “Dean, stop this. I won’t have sex with you.”

“Never?” he hiccups. “But I wanna make a baby with you. I’ll make you cum too.” Dean gives you puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

“Damn you,” patting his thigh you sigh deeply. “You need to sleep the alcohol off. We will talk about it in the morning.”

“…and have sex?” hopefully looking at you Dean pokes your thigh. “Right. We are going to make a baby in the morning.”

“Get up,” you nudge his side. “We need to tug you in bed. You’re too drunk to even think straight.”

You help Dean get back up and guide him out of your living room and toward your bedroom. “You wanna make out with me…I knew it.”

He stumbles toward your bedroom, almost crashing into the door.

“Go into the bedroom and shut up.”

“You can’t wait to get me naked, huh? I like it that you’re bossy,” he purrs. “I’m so tired and drunk.”

You push him inside the room and help Dean to sit down on your bed. “I told you to be silent. Let me just get you out of your shoes.”

After helping him get out of his shoes, coat, and pants you forced Dean to lie down. He didn’t fight you. The moment his head hit the pillow he was out cold.

Now you’re lying next to him, hating yourself for letting him sleep next to you. In the morning you will give him a piece of your mind and send him his way.

“Sweetheart,” you groan as Dean turns around to wrap his arms around your waistline. “You’re so warm, and sexy.” He groans in your ear. “I love you so much, Y/N. Always have. No woman can compare to you.”

You close your eyes and succumb to the much-needed sleep, ignoring the warm feeling spreading through your body.

“Please don’t kick me out,” Dean pleads. “I fucked up big time. You must know that I got a baby fever when I saw Sammy with his twins. I thought about my past relationships and realized none of the women I was with would want a baby with me.”

“So, you decided on turning me into a surrogate. I must say, this was a first for me,” you shake your head. “No guy I dated ever had the guts to turn me into a birthing machine.”

“Y/N, you’re my best friend and I never wanted to hurt you. It’s just,” he paces back and front all the while frantically running his fingers through his hair. “I want a family and asking you to become my surrogate was the closest thing to having a family.”

“You could’ve asked me for advice. Everything would’ve been better than this,” you point at the manila folders he forgot some weeks ago. “How could you hurt me like that? You didn’t even want my eggs…”

“I’d love to have your eggs,” you giggle through your tears. “Shit, that’s even worse. I—” he sighs deeply. “I love you, Y/N. Always have. I just never thought you would reflect my feelings.”

“We are friends for how long?” you roll your eyes. “I was there. Every time you needed someone to talk to or a shoulder to lean on. You’re the one I turn to when I need advice or just someone to talk to. Of course, I love you too.”

“Thank fuck,” Dean swallows thickly. “Before I offer to be your baby daddy, I’d like to ask you on a date. Please…”

Tags in reblog.

#spnchristmasbingo #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #ceo!dean Winchester #business au #Surrogate or Love #childhood sweethearts

[blue-chimera]

(cont. from x)

Drinking, Sex, & Violence¹ — What it says about Dean Winchester in Season 7

We've looked at the trial in "Defending Your Life" (specifically as it relates to Amy's death), but there's more to unpack in this episode.

~ Drinking Alone ~

Let's start with the fact that Dean's drinking is getting out of control again. From the very beginning of DYL, he's got a beer in hand pretty much every moment he isn't driving or actively working the case. And things escalate fast once a bar gets involved. (Remember that this is not something we saw from him for most of S6.)

Dean drinking while speculating that the victim drove drunk is just one of several ways the episode associates him with the other guilty parties.² Note that Sam doesn't have a beer. When Dean's drinking in moderation, he's usually engaging in social drinking. When Dean's spiraling, he's often drinking alone.

Meanwhile, he's dragging his feet on the case, resisting & resenting what needs to be done at pretty much every turn, muttering things like, "The fun never stops" and even letting out a disbelieving, "What?" at one point when Sam casually mentions their (obvious) next steps. He's treating things like checking out the crime scene and doing a simple salt & burn like massive burdens. He's bitterly sarcastic & constantly on edge.

The easy explanation is that Dean dislikes cases where the victims aren't obviously innocent or undeserving, to the point where he'd rather leave the supernatural alone in those situations — and you might point back at S2:E8 "Crossroad Blues," for example, to support this argument. But that wasn't the only case they worked where victims were seemingly getting what was coming to them. It's just the only other case they worked where that fact bothered Dean enough that he didn't want to work the case anymore.

In comparison, Dean wasn't inclined to let the Trickster go in "Tall Tales," even though the demigod was only hurting jerks (and offered to leave town without a fight). In "Houses of the Holy," while clearly disturbed to discover that all the victims were perpetrators of horrific crimes, he wasn't at all deterred from laying the avenging spirit to rest. And, in "Red Sky at Morning," the fact that the ghost ship only targeted people who'd killed their own kin didn't persuade him to walk away, either.

The difference between those other cases and these two episodes ("Defending Your Life"/DYL & "Crossroad Blues"/CB) is that, in these episodes, Dean is taking something personally: relating just a little too hard to the people involved. In CB, he's angry at John for his sacrifice and projecting that onto other people who've made deals. In DYL, he's feeling guilty for killing Amy (and like he'd deserve whatever punishment came his way) and he's projecting that.

~ Sex! (Or Not...) And More Drinking ~

There's something else interesting that we discover in DYL, and that's the fact that Dean's playboy ways have been (kind of) left in the dust: casual sex isn't really casual for him at this point. Which makes sense, considering just how long it's been since he had a fling. He was monogamous with Lisa for a year between S5 & S6, then clearly faithful during their long-distance relationship (which lasted at least up through S6:E6). After E6, it's less clear, but I would guess he still wasn't sure if they were broken up "for good" for a while (like, Lisa called him a bunch, but he never picked up, but he kept thinking about calling her back, but he didn't, etc.), until things finally culminated in a "real" breakup conversation in S6:E14 "Mannequin 3: The Reckoning," where both sides got some closure.

He didn't have much time to do anything about being single again, though: barely a month later, things came to a head with Eve... and then Dean was crushed by the events of S6:E20, E21, & E22, as we examined here.

All told, by the time DYL rolls around in S7, he's been out of the game for at least 2 years.³ So, when the hot bartender he's chatting with makes it clear she wants to get lucky with him, that's exciting (and unexpected) enough to break through his guilty ruminations.

However, he's clearly nervous. It's not obvious, though, whether his nerves are entirely because of how long it's been or if his dark mood is also to blame. It's like, this is too good of an opportunity to pass up — or maybe he just can't imagine a Dean Winchester who would say "No" here — but he really hasn't done this sort of thing in a long time & he's also kinda distracted by the stuff he's obsessing over, so he doesn't really have his head in the game & he isn't super in the mood, and, all in all, he's just not entirely sure this is going to go well...

But it's moot in the end. Thanks to Osiris, he doesn't get to find out.

You can't get much more "not a playboy anymore" than giving yourself a pep talk before a one-night stand.

Then, in "Shut Up, Dr. Phil," Dean's mood — and his drinking — only gets worse.

Compare Dean's instinctive "No thanks, I'm working" in S6:E6 (when the bartender asks if he'd like another) to S7:E5's dismissive "We're always 'on the job'!" when Sam questions him about drinking while they're on a case.

In E6 "Slash Fiction," Dean doesn't have much opportunity to drink while tearing up the country in pursuit of his doppelganger. Meanwhile, their status on the FBI's Most Wanted List excludes any possibility of casual sex off-screen. Then, by the conclusion of the episode, Dean has lost Sam & Baby both — his brother and the closest thing he's ever had to a home.

So maybe it should be unsurprising that in E7, after Dean's spent a week & a half alone with nothing but his thoughts, we get another hat-tip that (despite repressing like his life depends on it, to the point where he comes across as almost manic) Dean is on the verge of completely losing his shit. Let's just say that some time apart was not exactly what he needed.⁴

Dean is almost aggressively casual as he tries to pretend everything's fine, while Sam's body language clearly conveys his anger. Body language is a major theme of this episode, as psychics (both real & fake) discern that Sam is pissed & grieving a loss, while also clocking that Dean is exceptionally stressed (despite putting on a fake smile & tap-dancing for all he's worth).

After a tongue-lashing from Ellen beyond the grave, Dean confesses that he's in a bad place & that he knows his instincts might be shot right now. He did what felt right, but it could've been wrong.

In E8, Dean finds himself alone once more — first, when Sam would rather hike in the desert than join him drinking in strip clubs in Las Vegas (a valid choice, if not particularly helpful to Dean), and then again when Sam leaves him for Becky (because he's been bespelled, of course... not that Dean knows it at the time).

Then, in E9, after a conversation where Bobby tells Dean he's noticed that Dean's been acting like he doesn't care if he lives or dies (which, in hunting, gets you killed pretty quick), Bobby is fatally shot.

Dean's state of mind does not improve in E10.

¹Whoops, I lied — sorry! This got long. Violence is gonna have to be in the next part. ²Note that this scene contains a colloquialism that wouldn't typically be written out and might be confusing in print. Despite the negative construction, Dean is actually suggesting that the guy probably was drunk when he ran the child over. Much like if a colleague said, "Maybe the boss just hasn't thought of that... I wonder if somebody shouldn't raise that point at the next meeting?" he would be suggesting that somebody should raise that point. Similarly, someone who says, "I wonder if that man isn't our new teacher?" strongly suspects that the man is their new teacher. (This is possibly related to rhetorical constructions like, "Isn't the sunset beautiful tonight?" which also imply that the speaker takes a positive stance on the issue.) ³ Longer, if you think his last casual encounter dates back to the last one we saw on screen, which would've been with Anna in S4:E10 "Heaven and Hell." Although I think it's just as likely that he had a couple of rolls in the hay afterwards that were just off-screen, since we see him flirting with women with that intention a few times between then & "Swan Song." (And it seems likely that, at age 30, if Dean Winchester was interested & available, he probably wasn't having too hard of a time getting laid.) ⁴Raise your hand if you were surprised to discover that Dean has abandonment issues.

#dean winchester #spn meta #understanding dean winchester #spn #supernatural season 7 #character analysis #character development: dean winchester #dean studies

[worst-siblings-tournament]

Round 1

Skystar and Graywing (Warrior Cats) vs Sasuke and Itachi Uchiha (Naruto)

Scar and Mufasa (The Lion King) vs Jude and Taryn Duarte (The Folk of the Air)

Krauss, Eva, Rudolf and Rosa Ushiromiya (Umineko) vs The Princes of Stormhold (Stardust)

Blitzø and Barbie Wire (Helluva Boss) vs Bardas and Gorgas Lordan (The Fencer Trilogy)

Vinsmoke Ichiji, Niji, and Yonji (One Piece) vs Nikolai and Vasily Lantsov (Grishaverse/Shadow and Bone)

The Batsiblings (Batman) vs Rattlesnake and Sirocco (Wings of Fire)

Dee and Dennis Reynolds (It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia) vs Folgers Coffee Siblings (Folgers Coffee commercial)

Ianthe and Coronabeth Tridentarius (The Locked Tomb) vs Therese and Jeanette Voerman (Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines)

Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba (Danganronpa) vs Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary (English history)

Ruby and Aquamarine Hoshino (Oshi no Ko) vs Richard and Helen Gansey (The Raven Cycle)

The Endless (Sandman) vs Lark and Sparrow Oak-Garcia (Dungeons and Daddies)

The Bridgerton siblings (Bridgerton) vs Clary Fairchild and Sebastian Morgenstern (The Shadowhunter Chronicles)

The Sanderson Sisters (Hocus Pocus) vs Velvet and Veneer (Trolls 3)

The Seven Sisters Colleges (Real Life) vs Zeus and Hera (Greek mythology)

Akio Ootori and Anthy Himemiya (Revolutionary Girl Utena) vs Tom and Jake Berenson (Animorphs)

The Hargreeves siblings (Umbrella Academy) vs Ledroptha Curtain (The Mysterious Benedict Society)

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian (MDZS/The Untamed) vs Rei Asaka and Fukiko Ichinomiya (Oniisama E)

Adam and Eve (NieR: Automata) vs Dys and Tangent (I Was A Teenage Exocolonist)

Percy Jackson and Polyphemus (Percy Jackson) vs Mercer and Gage (The Silt Verses)

King Richard and Prince John (Robin Hood/English history) vs Cleopatra VII and Ptolemy XIII (Egyptian history)

Uru Somezuki and Saito Sejima (AI: The Somnium Files) vs Illumi, Killua and Alluka Zoldyck (Hunter x Hunter)

Andrew and Ashley Graves (The Coffin of Andy and Leyley) vs Belzedar (The Belgariad)

Cersei, Jaime, and Tyrion Lannister (A Song of Ice and Fire) vs Torak (The Belgariad)

Phillip and Caleb Wittebane (Owl House) vs Ogata Hyakunosuke and Hanazawa Yuusaku (Golden Kamuy)

Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston (How To Train Your Dragon) vs Andrew and Aaron Minyard (All for the Game)

Goneril and Regan (King Lear) vs Ruby Rocks and Saccharina Frostwhip (Dimension 20: A Crown of Candy)

The Beagle Boys (Donald Duck universe) vs Catherine and Hindley Earnshaw (Limbus Company)

Sam and Dean Winchester (Supernatural) vs John Wilkes and Edwin Booth (US history)

Anne and Mary Boleyn (English history) vs Rodrick, Greg, and Manny Heffly (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

Anastasia, Drizella, and Cinderella (Cinderella) vs Wolf 40f and Wolf 42f "Cinderella" (Real Life, Druid Peak wolf pack)

Byes: Azula and Zuko (Avatar: The Last Airbender), Cain and Abel (The Bible)

#worst siblings tournament #Round 1

[jensen-ackles-girl]

It's here, my sixth Christmas drabble! Wanted to write something that involved the holiday season since it's December wrote this number last night.

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this.

Summary: Y/N meeting dean Winchester family for the first time for Christmas dinner

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff

Pairing: dean Winchester x fem!reader, Mary Winchester x reader (mentioned), John Winchester x reader (mentioned), Sam Winchester x reader (mentioned)

The crisp winter air filled the streets of Lawrence, Kansas as the snow danced gracefully from the sky, creating a picture perfect scene. As y/n walked briskly towards her boyfriend Dean's house. Snowflakes lightly falling into her hair as she walks to her boyfriends front door. It was Christmas Eve, and she was about to meet his family for the first time. And to say she was nervous was a understatement. As nervousness coursed through her veins as. Clutching the tray of desert that she had in her hands. As she approached the house, adorned with twinkling lights and wreaths, y/n heart skipped a beat.

As she he took a deep breath, adjusting her coat and smoothing her hair with her left hand as she held the desert tray with the other hand. Before stepping onto the porch. The door swung open, revealing Dean, his warm smile melting away her anxiety. Dean's family home was a haven of warmth and love. The aroma of freshly baked cookies and the crackling sound of the fireplace filled the air. Y/N eyes widened as she took in the beautifully decorated Christmas tree, adorned with sparkling ornaments and twinkling lights. The room was filled with laughter and joy.

As family members gathered around, sharing stories and memories. Dean's mother Mary Winchester greeted y/n with open arms, her eyes twinkling with kindness. She introduced her to Dean's father, John Winchester a tougher more guarded soul when you first met him. The room was filled with his younger sibling Sam and close friends and family. all radiating a sense of belonging and love. The dining table was a masterpiece, adorned with a white tablecloth, fine china, and silverware. Candles flickered, casting a warm glow on the faces of the guests.

Y/N took her seat next to Dean, Sam on the other side of her. She was feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. The room fell silent as John Winchester stood up, raising his glass for a toast. "To family, old and new," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "May this Christmas bring us closer together and fill our hearts with love." The room erupted in cheers and clinking glasses, and the feast began. The table was filled with delectable dishes, from succulent roasted turkey to creamy mashed potatoes and cranberry sauce. Y/N savored each bite, feeling the love and care that went into every dish.

As the evening progressed, Y/N found herself drawn into conversations with Dean's family members. They shared stories, laughter, and even shed a few tears. The more she got to know them, the more she realized how lucky she was to be a part of this loving family. Dean's hand found hers under the table, his touch reassuring and comforting. Their eyes met, and in that moment, Y/N knew that she had found her home. The love she felt for Dean grew stronger, and she couldn't help but imagine a future filled with shared Christmases and cherished memories.

As the night drew to a close, the family gathered around the Christmas tree, exchanging gifts and heartfelt wishes. Y/N watched as Dean's face lit up with joy as he unwrapped a gift from her. It was a small silver locket, engraved with their initials, a symbol of their love. Dean's eyes sparkled with gratitude and love as he embraced y/n tightly. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. In that moment, y/n realized that this Christmas had brought her the greatest gift of all a family to call her own and a love that would endure through the seasons.

Note: Here's another drabble I wrote early in the month but got busy and forgot to post will definitely be posting more that I didn't get around to posting as I got busy. Hope you enjoy as always feedback is appreciated.

#family #supernatural #spn fic #dean winchester #x reader #dean winchester x reader #christmas

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

CHARACTER MASTERLIST

Supernatural

My Worst Fear  Paring: Dean Winchester x Original Female Character Word Count: 2000 Rating: Teen

You’re A Selfish Bastard  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Original Female Character Word Count: 2772 Rating: Explicit

Damn Dog  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Word Count: 2772 Rating: Mature

Farmer’s Daughter [Unfinished] Pairing: Dean Winchester x Original Character Word Count: 2772 Rating: Explicit

Free Beer & the Festive Season  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Word Count: 1043 Rating: Gen

Marry Me  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Word Count: 1213 Rating: Teen  

It Never Woulda Worked Out Anyway Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Word Count: 2181 Rating: Teen

The Trouble With Girls  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Multiple Word Count: 946 Rating Teen

I Don’t Dance Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1083 Rating: Gen

Hard To Love Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1097 Rating: Teen

I’ll Be Home For Christmas Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader Word Count: 2091 Rating: Gen

Get Even  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Original Female Character Word Count: 1805 Rating: Teen & Up

 Pieces Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Rating: Teen Word Count: 1494

All the Little Things  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Castiel Word Count: 1840 Rating: Teen  

Angel With A Shotgun Pairing: Dean Winchester x Castiel Word Count: 999 Rating: Gen

How Much I Care [Requested] Pairing:  Dean Winchester x Female Reader Word Count: 2538  Rating: Explicit

Travelin’ Soldier Pairing: John Winchester x Mary Winchester Word Count: 2995 Rating: Mature

Say It Pairing: John Winchester x Reader Word Count: 500 Rating: Teen & Up

I Wish You’d Stay  Fandom: Supernatural Pairing: N/A Word Count: 1671

Pick One [Requested]  Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader Word Count: 2623  Rating: Teen & Up

Harry Potter

Sundays  Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Word Count: 1113 Rating: Gen

She’s Got You  Pairing: Remus Lupin x  Female Reader Word Count:3000 [2 Parts] Rating: Mature

I’m a Monster  Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Word Count: 5000 [4 Parts] Rating: Mature

Let’s Do It  [Requested] Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Word Count: 5000 [2 Parts] Rating: Mature

Perfect  Pairing: Remus Lupin x Female Reader Word Count: 1000 Rating: Gen

Hearts Don’t Break Around Here  Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Word Count:500 Rating: Gen

On My Own Pairing: Remus Lupin x Sirius Black Word Count: 1210  Rating: Teen

The Grand Tour  Pairing: None Word Count: 2103 Rating: Gen

Eraser Pairing: Marauders Word Count: 220 Rating: Teen

Castle On the Hill  Pairing: Marauders Word Count: 1300 Rating: Teen

Our Family Pairing: Marauders Word Count: 2264 Rating: Teen

A War Wedding  Pairing: Fred Weasley x Original Female Character Word Count: 2103 Rating: Gen

Shape of You  Pairing: Fred Weasley x Original Character Word Count: 1800 Rating: Teen

Come With Me  Pairing: Dean Thomas  x Female Reader Word Count: 6000+ [5 Parts] Rating: Teen

Better Mood Pairing: Ron Weasley x Female Reader Word Count: 856 Rating: Mature

Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) Pairing: Ron Weasley x Reader Word Count: 953 Rating: Teen

Family Matters Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader Word Count: 4000 [2 Parts] Rating: Gen

What Are You Doing New Years Eve? Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader Word Count: 1347 Rating: Gen

When I Kissed the Teacher Pairing: Hermione Granger x Remus Lupin Word Count: 1369 Rating: Teen

I Won’t Say I’m In Love Pairing: George Weasley x Reader Word Count: 1796 Rating: Teen

Santa Baby Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Original Female Character Word Count: 1867 Rating: Teen

The Way We Were  Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character Word Count: 21,444 [11 Parts] Rating: Mature

Only the Good Die Young Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Character Word Count: 2300 Rating: Mature

Dive  Pairing: Sirius Black x Female Reader Word Count: 2300 Rating: Teen

A Little Magic  Pairing: Sirius Black x Female Reader Word Count: 1300 Rating: Gen

The Other Evans Girl Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character Word Count: Ongoing Rating: Mature

The Girl of My Best Friend Pairing: Sirius Black x Female Reader, Remus Lupin x Female Reader Word Count: 2995 Rating: Teen & Up

Complexly Chaotic Pairing: Sirius Black x Female Reader, Remus Lupin x Female Reader Word Count: 968 Rating: Teen & Up

Comfort Zone Pairing: Marauders x Reader Word Count: 2758 Rating: Teen & Up

Last Words to Reader [Part One/ Part Two] Pairing: Reader x Multiple  Word Count: 2000 Rating: Mature

Marvel

Stuck in the Middle  Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader Word Count: 12000 [7 Parts] Rating: Teen

Blue Ain’t Your Colour  Pairing: Steve Rogers x  Female Reader Word Count: 1417 Rating: Teen

Worth It  Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader Word Count: 3372 Rating: Explicit

Let Me Show You  Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Female Reader Word Count: 2711 Rating: Explicit

It’s Not Easy Being Steve [Requested] Pairing: Pre Serum Steve Rogers x Original Female Character Word Count: 2192 Rating: Explicit

Trying  [Requested] Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x  Female Reader Word Count: 2600 Rating: Teen

Any Port In A Storm  Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers x Reader [Bucky’s Sibling] Word Count: 1302 Rating: Gen

Baby It’s Cold Outside Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader Word Count: 1446 Rating: Teen

Afterthought   [Requested] Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader Word Count: 2017  Rating: Teen

Days Gone By  Pairing: Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter Word Count: 1332   Rating: Teen

You’re My Best Girl [AO3 Link]  [Requested] Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 2565 Rating: Gen

Because I Want To  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 3207 Rating: Explicit

Get Some Sleep Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 2683 Rating: Explicit

Say It First  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1900 Rating: Teen

Beige Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1267 Rating: Teen

Let’s Make a Date [Requested] Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 1379 Rating: Teen

Should’ve Said No Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1197  Rating: Teen

All I Want For Christmas Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1430 Rating: Gen

Just a Dream  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: 2571 Rating: Mature

Complicated   [Requested] Pairing: Peter Parker x Original Female Character Word Count: 4173 Rating: Teen

Priorities  Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader Word Count: 1133 Rating: Mature

Keep Quiet  Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader Word Count: 1668 Rating: Explicit

Give The Kid A Break [Requested] Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader Word Count: 1306 Rating: Gen

Glad You’re Here  [Requested] Pairing: Peter Parker x Female Reader Word Count: 2100 Rating: Mature

Crash My Party Pairing:  Peter Parker x Reader Word Count: 1488 Rating: Mature

Take a Break  Pairing: Tony Stark x Female Reader Word Count: 2936 Rating: Explicit

For Tony Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader Word Count: 3000 Rating: Mature

My Girls  Pairing: Tony Stark x Pregnant Female Reader Word Count: 757 Rating: Gen

A Perfect Christmas  Pairing: Tony Stark x Female Reader Word Count: 1260 Rating: Teen

Love of My Life Pairing: Tony Stark x Female Reader Word Count: 1785 Rating: Teen

DIVORCE Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader Word Count: 1515 Rating: Mature

I Don’t Care Pairing: Tony Stark x Female Reader Word Count: 1368 Rating: Teen & Up

Mr Goody-Two-Shoes  Pairing: Bruce Banner x Female Reader Word Count: 1443 Rating: Explicit

Make Me  Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader Word Count: 2457 Rating: Explicit

Round Two? Pairing: Thor x Reader Word Count: 1853 Rating: Explicit

Well Played Pairing: Clint Barton x Reader Word Count: 2076 Rating: Explicit

Supermarket Flowers Pairing: None Word Count: 1403 Rating: Teen

Truth or Dare  [Requested] Pairing: Loki x Reader Word Count:572 Rating: Mature

Scarab Hunting [Requested] Pairing: Stephen Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader Word Count: 1036  Rating: Mature

Bullet Train

Liability Pairing: Tangerine x Female Reader Word Count: 3000 Rating: Explicit

My Boy Pairing: Tangerine x Female Reader Word Count: 1764 Rating: Teen & Up

Daisy Jones & The Six

Stay With Me Fandom: Daisy Jones x The Six Rating: Mature Word Count: 1399

Good 4 U Pairing: Graham Dunne x Original Female Character Rating: Mature Word Count: 4793

History Boys

Asexual Scripps  Pairing: None Word Count: 2000 Rating: Teen

Your Beautiful Song  Paring: David Posner Word Count: 1000 Rating: Mature

What Do I Know?  Paring: Donald Scripps, David Posner Word Count: 500 Rating: Gen

U.N.I Paring: Donald Scripps x David Posner Word Count: 800 Rating: Teen

Go On Mate  Pairing: Stuart Dakin x Male Reader Word Count: 2050 Rating: Mature

Twilight

Not One of Us [Requested] Pairing: Cullen x Teen Wolf Word Count: 2300 Rating: Teen

La Tua Cantante  [Requested] Pairing: Marcus Volturi x Original Character x Spencer Reid Word Count: 5140 Rating: Gen

You’ve Got Us [Requested] Pairing: Cullen Reader x Marvel Gang Word Count: 1047 Rating: General

The Outsiders

Meanwhile Back at Mama’s Pairing: Darry Curtis x Female Reader Word Count: 1206 Rating: Teen

Brooklyn Nine Nine

Captain Peralta & His Lieutenant  Pairing: Jake Peralta x Original Female Character Word Count: 1340 Rating: Explicit

Mary & Amy’s  Pairing: Jake Peralta x Original Female Character, Jake Peralta x Amy Santiago Word Count: 1765 Rating: Teen

CSI 

The Way Out [Unfinished] Pairing: Don Flack x Original Character Word Count: 1142 Rating: Mature

What If I Stay Pairing: Nick Stokes x Female Reader Word Count: 1179  Rating: Teen

Cheers

Old Flames and New Pains Pairing: Sam Malone x Original Female Character Word Count: 1674 Rating: Gen

Doctor Who

How Would You Feel?  Pairing: 11th Doctor x Reader Word Count: 1000 Rating: Gen

I Love You, Yasmin Khan Pairing: 13th Doctor x Yasmin Khan Word Count: 1582 Rating: Teen

All I Ask Pairing: Doctor x Reader Word Count: 1337 Rating: Explicit

Friends

Santa Stole My Girlfriend Pairing: Chandler Bing x Original Character x Joey Tribbiani Word Count: 1558 Rating: Teen

Full House

No Boys Allowed Pairing: Jesse Katsopolis x Female Reader Word Count: 1750 Rating: Gen

Jesse’s Girl Pairing: Jesse Katsopolis x Female Reader x Joey Gladstone Word Count: 985 Rating: Teen

#1 Competition [Requested] Pairing: Jesse Katsopolis x Reader Word Count: 2562  Rating: Teen

Best of a Bad Situation  [Requested] Pairing: NA Word Count: 1839 Rating: Gen

Sounds Good To Me  [Requested] Pairing: Jesse Katsopolis x Female Reader Word Count: 1363  Rating: Mature

For The Better [Requested] Pairing:  Jesse Katsopolis x Becky Donaldson x Female Reader Word Count: 2319  Rating: Mature

Grey’s Anatomy 

36 Weeks  [Requested] Pairing: Mark Sloan x Reader Word Count: 2150 Rating: Mature

As Long As He Needs Me Pairing: Mark Sloan x Reader Shepherd Word Count: 1858 Rating: Mature

Before and After  [Requested] Pairing:  Mark Sloan x Reader Word Count: 824 Rating: Teen

Right Girl  Pairing:  Mark Sloan x Callie Torres, Mark Sloan x Addison Mongtomery  Word Count: 1765 Rating: Mature

How To Make Friends [Requested] Pairing: Lexie Grey x Reader Word Count: 1600 Rating: Gen

Navy Dresses  [Requested] Pairing: Lexie Grey x Reader Word Count: 1500 Rating: Gen

Anna Parsons [Requested] Pairing: Lexie Grey x Reader Word Count: 2100 Rating: Mature

Give Me A Reason [Requested] Pairing: Jackson Avery x Reader, Jackson x April Kepner Word Count: 1529 Rating: Teen

Things That Matter [Requested] Pairing: Jackson Avery x Reader, Word Count: 3427 Rating: Teen

Mother Dearest [AO3 Link]  [Requested] Pairing: Jackson Avery x Reader, Word Count: 1923 Rating: Mature

Ups & Downs [Requested] Pairing: Jackson Avery x Reader Word Count: 1670  Rating: Teen

A Crazy Idea [Requested] Pairing: Jackson Avery x Reader, Daniel [Benson] Kwan x Reader Word Count: 2058 Rating: Teen

Post Night Shift Care [Requested] Pairing: Derek Shepherd x Female Reader Word Count: 1590  Rating: Teen

It’s A Beautiful Day To Save Lives Pairing: Derek Shepherd x OFC, Derek Shepherd x Addison Shepherd Word Count: 1808  Rating: Teen

I’ll Never Love Again Pairing: Denny Duquette x Reader Word Count: 1878 Rating: Mature

Night Shift Pairing: Alex Karev x Reader Word Count: 1000 Rating: Teen

Gilmore Girls

Comfortable Pairing: Luke Danes x OFC, Luke Danes x Lorelai Gilmore Word Count: 737   Rating: Gen

Jess’ Dad Pairing: Jess Mariano x Reader Rating: Teen Word Count: 2426

How I Met Your Mother

Toothbrush Pairing: Barney Stinson x Female Reader Word Count: 1336 Rating: Teen

Nashville 

Flowers Pairing: Deacon Claybourne x Female Reader Word Count: 1247 Rating: Teen

New Girl

Different For Girls Pairing: Nick Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 2426 Rating: Teen

Last Christmas Pairing: Nick Miller x Reader Word Count: 1974 Rating: Teen

What A Man Gotta Do Pairing: Schmidt x Cece Parekh Word Count: 1158 Rating: Teen

The Office

Late To The Party Pairing: Jim Halpert x Pam Beesley Word Count: 757   Rating: Gen

Office PDA  Pairing: Jim Halpert x Pam Beesley, Jim Halpert x Reader Word Count: 1632 Rating: Explicit

Speak Now Pairing: Jim Halpert x Pam Beesley Word Count: 1325 Rating: Teen

That 70s Show

Come on Over Tonight  Pairing: Steven Hyde x Reader Word Count: 870 Rating: Teen

Teen Wolf

Eighteen Inches Pairing: Stiles  x Female Reader Word Count: 870 Rating: Teen

How To Get Away With Murder

Moving On  Pairing: Frank Delfino x Reader Word Count: 1030 Rating: Teen

Saved By The Bell

Zack’s Worst Scheme Pairing: Zack Morris/Original Character/Kelly Kapowski Word Count: 5700 Rating: Teen

Never Happened [Requested] Pairing: Zack Morris x Female Reader Word Count: 1463  Rating: Explicit

Other

Silcobon and Cobb [Requested] Pairing: None Word Count: 1881 Rating: Gen

Bad Days  Pairing: Peter Kavinsky x Female Reader Word Count: 1550 Rating: Gen

Play It Again Pairing: Frank Adler x  Female Reader Word Count: 1970 Rating: Teen

Not In That Way  Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak Word Count: 21219 Rating: Mature

Gray Mornings [Requested] Pairing: Grayson Betournay x Reader Word Count: 900 Rating: Gen

#My masterlist #my masterlists #character masterlist #harry potter fic #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #bucky barnes fic #sirius black #sirius black fic #hp fic #tony stark fic #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #teen wolf fic #greys fic #greys anatomy #greys anatomy fic #derek shepherd fic #derek shepherd #mark sloan #mark sloan fic

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Castiel & John Winchester & Alastair Drabbles

hello and welcome to my masterlist! This little space features nothing but Castiel x Reader, Alastair x Reader & John Winchester x Reader. I do hope you enjoy! Please Don’t Forget to reblog the fics you enjoy!

Fics with 🤓 are favorites of mine!

Fics with 🔥 smut

Fics with 😡 angst

Fics with 💕 are fluff

Fics with 🍯 200+ notes

Fics I could possibly consider continuing 🧐

Ao3: caplanbuckybarnes

Tag my side log in fics y’all write!! @caplanreads

Updated April 7 2024

*** currently i nthe process of placing all fics onto ao3!

---Castiel----

The Secret Baby Bump Summary: you didnt think the angel would find out why you’d left the bunker many months ago [LINK WILL TAKE YOU TO AO3!]

Godly Devices Summary: Castiel was cast from Heaven to live amoung the humans. [LINK WILL TAKE YOU TO AO3!]

Baseball Bats & Teeth Summary; never did you think you’d find out your friend was violent… [LINK WILL TAKE YOU TO AO3!]

Heartless Summary: Castiel regards Dean after too many mistakes. [LINK WILL TAKE YOU TO AO3!]

Saving You Summary: Going to the supermarket should have just been precisely that: a shopping spree. But everything changed when you were kidnapped and thrown into prison for days on end. The torture stops one fateful day when an officer comes to your rescue. [LINK WILL TAKE YOU TO AO3!]

---Alastair---

No Longer Under You Summary: Alastair finds you after you’d managed to avoid him for years after leaving him

---John Winchester---

Misery At Best Summary: you knew your husband was worried sick over his kids, thogh he’d never admit it outloud. [LINK WILL TAKE YOU TO AO3!]

Proposals at Home Summary; John wants nothing more to spend the rest of his days with you. Carefully, he secrets a plan to find out your ring size. He knows candles are a favorite as your own. He only waits for you to come home on the eve of your anniversary to pop the question. [LINK WILL TAKE YOU TO AO3!]

Sadness in Whiskey Summary: you comfort John when you find out about Mary’s death. [LINK WILL TAKE YOU TO AO3!]

I Thought You Forgot Summary: you never expected to see John Winchester again [LINK WILL TAKE YOU TO AO3!]

Defeated Before Breakfast Summary: after news of John’s son’s death, you make his breakfast. [LINK WILL TAKE YOU TO AO3!]

Be Quiet, Little Birdie Summary: Michael!John captures you as bait for the Winchester brothers. [LINK WILL TAKE YOU TO AO3!]

#alastair x reader #castiel x reader #john winchester x reader

[antnbvll]

statistical character personality test. take the linked quiz from the perspective of your character, then select 5 - 10 results from the complete matches list that you feel resonate with your character the most.

bruce  wayne    (  batman/the  dark  knight  )    :    83% dom  cobb    (  inception  )    :    82% thomas  shelby    (  peaky  blinder  )    :    81% james  bond    (  tomorrow  never  dies  )    :    79% jean  grey    (  x-men  )    :    79% shiv  roy    (  succession  )    :    78% john  wick    (  john  wick  )    :    76% jason  bourne    (  the  bourne  identity  )    :    75% villanelle    (  killing  eve  )    :    74% dean  winchester    (  supernatural  )    :    74% mazikeen    (  lucifer  )    :    71% kaz  brekker    (  shadow  &  bone  )    :    71%

#out of character. ⸻ dash games.

[according-to-the-laura]

StackedNatural Day 176: 7x22, 11x21, 12x21

StackedNatural Masterpost: [x]

May 11, 2022

7x22: There Will Be Blood

Written by: Andrew Dabb & Daniel Loflin

Directed by: Guy Bee

Original air date: May 11, 2012

Plot Synopsis:

To officially kill the leviathans, Sam and Dean need the blood of an Alpha. But Dick knows what the Winchesters are up to and sends his men after them.

Features:

Kevin being kidnapped by Dick Roman, Bobby turning vengeful, Crowley’s blood, the dangers of high-fructose corn syrup, the Alpha vampire’s special girls, Dean being forced to eat vegetables, the blood of the Alpha Vampire, chopping Edgar’s head off, Bobby going AWOL.

My Thoughts:

To be honest, I had forgotten most of this episode. It’s pretty good, but in comparison to the episodes on either side of it I think it looks a little weaker. It suffers from the same no-Cas-disease that most of the rest of the season suffers from. 

I like the slow-burn conflict of whether or not Bobby will be able to keep his humanity or if he’ll succumb to the urge for vengeance, and I like that possession is presented as a violation and more proof that he’s losing the battle. 

The Alpha Vampire has powerful vibes, so those scenes are fun to watch. I like when the boys are forced to accept the help from people that they really fucking hate. 

Mostly this episode works to set up the finale, and I remember enjoying the finale quite a bit, if only for the Destiel of it all. 

Notable Lines:

“I'm in the Veil. My Brad Pitt days are over.”

“I knew Eve, and honestly... your mommy was a whore.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 7.1

IMdB Rating: 8.6

11x21: All in the Family

Written by: Buckleming

Directed by: Thomas J. Wright

Original air date: May 11, 2016

Plot Synopsis:

Concerned for Castiel, Dean and Sam devise a plan to rescue Lucifer from Amara's clutches.

Features:

Being presented with the Literal God, Kevin Tran getting sent to Heaven, Casifer’s crucifixion, Donatello’s intro, Dean’s visions of Amara, God’s suicide note, Sam and Dean as Chosen, the rescue of Casifer, Metatron’s sacrifice. 

My Thoughts:

This is a mostly well-written episode for a Buckleming one. I’m SHOCKED that they were able to write the opening scene with Dean confronting Chuck with his abandonment of humanity. That scene is really well directed, too - it would have been easy to make that an angry argument, but the sadness was much more compelling. Watching it makes me understand why God being the villain of season 15 was a plot twist. 

It’s crazy to learn that Buckleming were the ones that sent Kevin to Heaven in this episode, which they retconn for no reason in Raising Hell.

I would actually really love this episode if it weren’t for Donatello, who bar none is the character that I find the most annoying in the entire series. The character is bad, the writing is bad, the direction is atrocious. They could have written a prophet that we would have cared about, they could have explored his emotional state on his ENTIRE TOWN being dead, but they didn’t. 

I  love that Chuck has been watching the Winchesters sacrifice themselves so much that the habit has rubbed off on him and now it’s his big plan. I love that he tells Dean that he’ll step up for the world - so it was with John, so it is with God. Sam and Dean are molded into weapons by the trinity of John, God, and Azazel. 

I love Casifer and I love getting to see an angel meet his father for the first time in millenia. Really well acted and directed. 

Notable Lines:

“People pray to you. People build churches for you. They fight wars in your name, and you did nothing.”

“Well, from where I sit, it feels like you left us and you're trying to justify it.” “I know you had a complicated upbringing, Dean, but don't confuse me with your dad.”

“I’ve always had faith in you. Even if you didn’t return the favor.”

“”You started all of this, but does that give you the right to end it? You know, we're not just some toys you throw away. I think you owe us more than that.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.2

IMdB Rating: 8.8

12x21: There's Something About Mary

Written by: Buckleming

Directed by: P. J. Pesce

Original air date: May 11, 2017

Plot Synopsis:

Sam and Dean are alarmed when they learn hunters are being killed by suspicious "accidents" all over the country. They decide it is best to find Mary and make sure she's safe. Meanwhile, Toni is back in the states and she and Mary face off.

Features:

Eileen’s death by hellhound, American hunters being targeted, Mary’s realignment, slutshaming Ketch, setting a trap for the BMoL, Lucifer taking control of Hell, shootout in the Bunker.

My Thoughts:

This episode is extremely strong evidence for the fact that the two writers that make Buckleming just split the scenes in half and then write them individually without working together at all. This explains a lot of things, including why their pacing is so dogshit and why some episodes will have good or even great scenes followed by absolute garbage. 

Eileen’s death bums me out in a major way, especially since this should be the last time we see her in Stacked. At least Sam’s reaction was given a bit of emphasis and screen time. 

The scenes with Mary being “realigned” were great, mainly because they focused on her emotional experience of it rather than the logistical details. I like that the boys are smart enough to set a trap for Toni and to work out what’s happening to the other hunters. 

If the British Men of Letters hadn’t been so cartoonishly evil the entire season, I would be really excited about this turn into brainwashing and wholesale slaughter. Unfortunately starting off the season with a bunch of foot torture that was then followed by forcing children to kill each other kind of ruins a potential arc for the organization. I wish the details had been more slowly revealed, and that the main forces (the older lady whose name I have to retained for example) had any amount of nuance that would start an interesting discussion. 

The Lucifer scenes are boring and largely pointless. Crowley is written as overly (again, cartoonishly) confident and stupid. Lucifer’s escape and take over of Hell isn’t a result of his cunning or his ability to manipulate - it’s hand-waved away with his chains accidentally acting the opposite of the way that they should. The demons continue to be weak and boring. 

I also couldn’t care less about the dynamic between Ketch and Toni, they haven’t given us any reason to care about either of them, so it doesn’t matter to me which of them ends up in charge of the American mission. And after all this, I can’t believe they brought him back and killed him as a martyr.

Notable Lines:

“The perfect life. Loving husband and kids. But it never really was perfect, was it? All those secrets you kept from your beloved John.”

“Your boys didn't tell you? The drunken rages? The weeks of abandonment? Child abuse, really. It's no wonder they're damaged.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 6.9

IMdB Rating: 7.0

In Conclusion: Both season 11 and season 12 had some CHOICE things to say about John Winchester today.

<< Previous Day  |  Next Day >>

#Stackednatural #supernatural #spn #7x22 #There Will Be Blood #11x21 #All in the Family #12x21 #There's Something About Mary

[holylulusworld]

2022 SPN Christmas Bingo Masterlist

Preview for the upcoming fics to fill the squares.

(Please consider none of the stories are available yet.)

Stories written for: @spnchristmasbingo​​

Find 2021 SPN Chrismas bingo here: 2021 SPN Christmas Bingo Masterlist

Square 1: Safe trip (Dean Winchester x Reader): Road trip

Square 2: Big grump (Dean Winchester x Reader): Photographs

Square 3: ??? (??? x Reader): Building a snowman

Square 4: ??? (??? x Reader): Sledding

Square 5: ??? (??? x Reader): Friends to lovers

Square 6: ??? (??? x Reader): Elf on the shelf

Square 7: ??? (??? x Reader): Skiing

Square 8: Wrapped (Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader): Decorating

Square 9: Summer in Winter (John Winchester x Reader): Secret relationship

Square 10: ??? (??? x Reader): Opening a present on Christmas Eve

Square 11: ??? (??? x Reader): Taking the decorations down

Square 12: ??? (??? x Reader): Hot cocoa

Square 13: ??? (??? x Reader): Secret Santa

Square 14: ??? (??? x Reader): Christmas Eve

Square 15: ??? (??? x Reader): Velvet

Square 16: Cabin of love (2) - A short ride (Alpha!Dean Winchester x Reader): Road closed

Square 17: ??? (??? x Reader): Popcorn

Square 18: ??? (??? x Reader): Lingerie

Square 19: I never was (Dean Winchester x Reader): Coming home for Christmas

Square 20: The pie whisperer (Dean Winchester x Baker!Reader): Pie

Square 21: ??? (??? x Reader): Ice skating  

Square 22: ??? (??? x Reader): Alone at Christmas  

Square 23: Eggnog rocks (Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader): Whiskey

Square 24: From Santa with love (??? x Reader): Sending Holiday cards 

Square 25: ??? (??? x Reader): Taking a bath 

Beautiful X-Mas divider by @firefly-graphics​

Find more special events/bingos here: Special Events & Stories Masterlist

#supernatural #supernatural christmas #spnchristmasbingo #2022 SPN Christmas Bingo Masterlist #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #john winchester #castiel

[farieshades]

...... I had a ask. I did really. But I can't remember it so now I'm just sipping my coffee staring into space like a badly written fanfic.

What would you change about Supernatural? (Yes Far the TV show)

I do like how you included “For the TV show” knowing full well that I could and would rant about mythology and the supernatural/paranormal for hours. 

Power 

In the earlier seasons, this made a lot of sense. There was an intrinsic fear the audience held for the characters. A “Oh no, what’s going to happen, will x survive?” but, over time the Brothers gained too much ‘power’. It wasn’t that they obtained really any special ability (although, that could very well be argued in certain seasons) but by the end of it they were just humans fighting against darkness encroaching upon others. 

From a writing standpoint, there was a need to make the characters stronger I suppose, as soon as you introduce angels and Chuck, but really, each season tried to up the ante of what came before. - You Fought and Won against Azazel? Time to Introduce Lucifer - You Fought and Won against Lucifer? Time to introduce another bastard. 

I mean really, what is the progression? Meg/Azazel > Azazel > Lilith x2 > Lucifer > Eve / Crowley (and Castiel somehow) > Leviathans and Politics > Crowley and Metatron > Abaddon > Mark of Cain or Rowena?> The Darkness/Amara > British Men of Letters/Lucifer (how are you still here didn't we deal with you already? Why are we bringing Lucifer back into plots) > Lucifer/Apocalypse World Michael > AW Michael > God himself. 

It was similar, in my mind, how Buffy TVS goes up against her BBEG’s who do progressively get worse, but, not in the same way? The Master (simple, evil, background bad guy who is a genuine threat when he shows up those few times throughout the seasons w/ parallel world bullshit) > Spike/Drusilla (easy fight at anytime as they are just vampires tho they add plenty to the plot - then again, the two collectivelly killed 4(?) slayers) > The Mayor (who is of course evil, we love evil polititions in fantasy, right Dick Roman? At least Dick Roman didn't turn into a giant snake, he just... kinda ate people?>The Initiative-Adam (Shadowy government making a frankenstein killing machine that doesn't obey orders like they hoped) > Glory (we love gods of alternate hellwords being exiled to earth and somehow living the life of luxury) > Dark Willow + The Three Idiots of Geekdom (Willow was great actually and it caused a lot of things to go tits up - The trio, however, sucked but they did cause the dark Willow so ... shrug?) > The First Evil (which is great, supposedly end-of-times bad who you need to show power of friendship or something to combat and stuff, but it was also very downplayed)

But Back to SPN - the BBEG’s just get stronger and stronger and at some point there’s no fear or thrill in hunting them, and the Monster-of-the-week episodes as filler pose absolutely no threat to the brothers whereas when we were in season 1-3 the monster-of-the-week was terrifying and, well, followed a familiar script that worked. 

So, keeping the brother’s at the same level as they were would be a change I’d make. Not in…. Like, ok, they get more confident in themselves because they are good hunters, definitely some of the best, but they surpass cocky and confident in their actions [which i blame writers irl but also John Winchester to make the characters actually work in this way - he makes them think this is the way they must act and they do type of deal]. 

The Apocalypse (Season 5)

Another change I’d probably do would be to separate the series into two different types. SPN could have ended at the end of Season 5. We lost Sam, but the Apocalypse is prevented. A good hero-arc, sacrifice, and well you get the bittersweet pain of knowing that this wouldn’t have happened if not for the first episode. It would finish perfectly, Dean must live with the knowledge that he brought his brother back into hunting, while Sam becomes a tragic hero making the ultimate sacrifice… Maybe I just like angst. 

Season 6+ could very easily be a continuation, sure, but in more of a spin-off sense. Bringing back soulless Sam makes the sacrifice almost silly the previous season. 

I do like the seasons as they are, but that’s just how my head is structuring a lot of it. I do like how the characters grew, the side characters getting introduced, the family background we slowly learn (how is it that all the campbells show up and no past winchesters do barring whats-his-name grandpa man? More american men of letters from history would be more interesting than whateverthefuck the british MoL were doing.)

Or hell, switch it around like a DW season and have new hunters replace people and its no longer Winchester Brothers but the entire community taking on more and more bad, instead of constantly upping the crisis you could see different places of the world rather than America/Canada/UK, you could see hunters in Russia or Japan or India. -- It wouldn’t have likely been a idea at the time of filming it, but that’s an interesting thought to be sure.

#supernatural #buffy the vampire slayer #dean winchester #sam winchester #big bad evil guy #apocalypse #chuck god #monster-of-the-week #analysis

[diankn]

So we got our hunter husbands

Our hunter wives

Our murder husbands

Our other murder husbands

Our murder wives

Our immortal husbands

Our other immortal husbands

Our immortal wives

Our ineffable husbands

Our other murder wives

( 1/2)

#destiel #hannibal #supernatural #dean winchester #killing eve #gay #murder husbands #good omens #joe x nicky #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #Will graham #hannibal lecter #Castiel #jody mills #donna hanscum #donnaxjody #sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #alana bloom #margo verger #murder wives #alanaxmargo #tog #the old guard #immortal husbands #malec #villaneve #andy x quynh

[spneldritchbang]

Dream Evil, the Tale of Yagathlu

Title: Dream Evil, the Tale Of Yagathlu

Pairings: John x OC Eve.

Rating: Explicit

Writer: @eve-loves-apples​​

Artist: @blindswandive

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex, gore, quite a bit of violent tentacle stuff. 

Summary: In the peaceful seaside town of Doveport, young women are vanishing under mysterious circumstances and turning up severely mutilated on its sandy beaches. When his partner ends up in a coma at the local hospital, John must do everything in his power to defeat the Eldritch Warlock that has the woman he loves in its thrall. A battle in the realm of dreams ensues as the fate of the world hangs in the balance.

Link to Tumblr: Dream Evil, the Tale of Yagathlu   ||  Link to Ao3: Dream Evil, the Tale of Yagathlu || Link to art: Graphics for Dream Evil, the Tale of Yagathlu

#eldritch bang 2021 #submission #eve loves apples #blindswandive #john x oc #john winchester

[fandom]

2020′s Top Ships

Basically, there is only one OTP, and it's whoever you like together best. 

Reylo +6 Rey & Kylo Ren, the Star Wars universe

Catradora +10 Catra & Adora, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Reddie +1 Richie Tozier & Eddie Kaspbrak, It

Geraskier Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier, The Witcher

Ineffable Husbands -4 Aziraphale & Crowley, Good Omens

Zukka Zuko & Sokka, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Lumity Luz Noceda & Amity Blight, The Owl House

Supercorp +5 Kara Danvers & Lena Luthor, Supergirl

Jikook -4 Park Jimin & Jeon Jungkook, BTS

Destiel +10 Dean Winchester & Castiel, Supernatural

Kiribaku +3 Kirishima Eijirou & Bakugou Katsuki, Boku No Hero Academia

Bumbleby +3 Yang Xiao Long & Blake Belladonna, RWBY

Wangxian +61 Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian, Mo Dao Zu Shi

Jonmartin Jonathan Sims & Martin Blackwood, The Magnus Archives

Bakudeku +3 Bakugou Katsuki & Midoriya Izuku, Boku No Hero Academia

Drarry +6 Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, the Harry Potter universe

Gallavich Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Shameless

Stucky -2 Steve Rogers & Bucky Barnes, the Marvel universe

Zutara Zuko & Katara, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Klance -18 Keith & Lance, Voltron: Legendary Defender

Preath +6 Christen Press & Tobin Heath, Athletes

Korrasami +38 Korra & Asami Sato, The Legend of Korra

Bellarke -14 Bellamy Blake & Clarke Griffin, The 100

ZaDr +23 Zim & Dib, Invader Zim

FinnPoe Finn & Poe Dameron, the Star Wars universe

Buddie Evan Buckley & Edmundo Diaz, 9-1-1

Tododeku -6 Todoroki Shouto & Midoriya Izuku, Boku No Hero Academia

Entrapdak +60 Entrapta & Hordak, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Sasusaku -1 Uchiha Sasuke & Haruno Sakura, Naruto

Wayhaught +21 Waverly Earp & Nicole Haught, Wynonna Earp

Ballum +50 Ben Mitchell & Callum Highway, EastEnders

Harringrove -1 Steve Harrington & Billy Hargrove, Stranger Things

Kagehina Kageyama Tobio & Hinata Shouyou, Haikyuu!!

Joe x Nicky Joe (Yusuf Al-Kaysani) & Nicky (Niccolò di Genova), The Old Guard

Erasermic +4 Aizawa Shouta & Yamada Hizashi, Boku no Hero Academia

Maribat Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Damian Wayne, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir x The DC Universe

Hannigram +31 Hannibal Lecter & Will Graham, Hannibal

Shirbert Anne Shirley & Gilbert Blythe, Anne with an E

Wolfstar +6 Remus Lupin & Sirius Black, the Harry Potter universe

Harlivy  Harley Quinn & Poison Ivy, the DC Universe

Phan -35 Daniel Howell & Phil Lester, YouTubers

Merthur +17 Merlin & Arthur Pendragon, Merlin

Larry Stylinson +30 Harry Styles & Louis Tomlinson, One Direction

Rayllum +42 Callum & Rayla, The Dragon Prince

Malex -1 Michael Guerin & Alex Manes, Roswell, New Mexico

Adrienette -13 Adrien Agreste & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Ladynoir -7 Ladybug & Chat Noir, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Connverse Connie Maheswaran & Steven Universe, Steven Universe

Sterek -3 Stiles Stilinski & Derek Hale, Teen Wolf

Marichat -14 Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Chat Noir, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Stony -32 Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, the Marvel universe

Dabihawks Dabi & Hawks, Boku no Hero Academia

Villaneve Villanelle & Eve Polastri, Killing Eve

Prinxiety +30 Princey & Anxiety, Thomas Sanders

IronStrange -30 Tony Stark & Dr. Steven Strange, the Marvel universe

Robbe x Sander Robbe Ijzermans & Sander Driesen, WTFock

Percabeth Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & the Olympians

Taekook -23 Kim Taehyung & Jeon Jungkook, BTS

Kataang Katara & Aang, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Bughead -19 Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Riverdale

Kaylor -23 Karlie Kloss & Taylor Swift, celebrities

Sprousehart -32 Cole Sprouse & Lili Reinhart, Actors

Narumitsu Phoenix Wright & Miles Edgeworth, Ace Attorney

Fair Game Clover Ebi & Qrow Branwen, RWBY

NaLu -12 Natsu Dragneel & Lucy Heartfilia, Fairy Tail

Caryl Carol Peletier & Daryl Dixon, The Walking Dead

Beaujester Beauregard & Jester Lavorre, Critical Role

Dramione Draco Malfoy & Hermione Granger, the Harry Potter universe

Radiodust Alastor & Angel Dust, Hazbin Hotel

Deckerstar Chloe Decker & Lucifer Morningstar, Lucifer

Bokuaka Bokuto Kotarou & Akaashi Keiji, Haikyuu!!

Malec -64 Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Shadowhunters

Spirk +18 Spock & James Kirk, Star Trek

Davekat +24 Dave Strider & Karkat Vantas, Homestuck

Charlastor Charlie Magne & Hazbin Alastor, Hazbin Hotel

Elsamaren Elsa & Honeymaren, Frozen II

Clexa -1 Clarke Griffin & Commander Lexa, The 100

Cloti Cloud Strife & Tifa Lockhart, the Final Fantasy franchise

Kylux Kylo Ren & General Hux, the Star Wars universe

Glimbow Glimmer & Bow, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

WhiteRose Weiss Schnee & Ruby Rose, RWBY

Juliantina -79 Juliana Valdés & Valentina Carvajal, Amar a muerte

Snowbaz -13 Simon Snow & Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, Carry On

Vmin -19 Kim Taehyung & Park Jimin, BTS

Zelink +12 Zelda & Link, The Legend of Zelda

Elu -60 Eliott Demaury & Lucas Lallemant, SKAM France

Lukanette -32 Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir

Tarlos TK Strand & Carlos Reyes, 9-1-1: Lone Star

Peraltiago -4 Jake Peralta & Amy Santiago, Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Widojest Caleb Widogast & Jester Lavorre, Critical Role

Dimileth +9 Dimitri & Byleth, Fire Emblem

Solangelo Will Solace & Nico di Angelo, Percy Jackson

Iwaoi Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu!!

Johnlock -27 John Watson & Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock

Pynch Adam Parrish & Ronan Lynch, The Raven Cycle

Reed900 Gavin Reed & RK900, Detroit: Become Human

Cazzie Casey Gardner & Izzie, Atypical

Frenrey Gordon Freeman & Benrey, Half-Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware

Todobaku Todoroki Shouto & Bakugou Katsuki, Boku no Hero Academia

Kristanna Kristoff Bjorgman & Anna, Frozen

The number in italics indicates how many spots a ship moved up or down from the previous year. The ones in bold weren’t on the list last year.

#year in review #ships #reylo #catradora #reddie #geraskier #maribat #tumblr2020

[winchester-purgatory]

Mrs. Claus | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You see an old friend during your work shift

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warning: strip club

-

This year, Dean decided to spend his Christmas Eve night at the strip club. A little odd for Christmas Eve, but nonetheless enjoyable. All the performers - and staff - were dressed for the occasion.

At his arrival, the place was practically empty of customers, except for old single men who had no families.

Dean ordered a beer and found himself a seat by one of the stages.

It was strange to be there on Christmas Eve, but Sam was at college, celebrating with his girlfriend, and his dad was god knows where. He could've called him and tried to meet up for the occasion, but John had stopped caring about holidays a long time ago.

After doing your little performance, you left the stage and went to freshen up. Dancing is a lot harder and demanding than it looks.

When you returned, you scanned the small crowd for any possible paying customers. You spotted some regulars, classic lap dance payers, foot fetishizers and toe nibblers, and some who made you do some weird shit. They made good stories, but no one wants to walk on their four and pretend to be a cow.

One man particularly stood out to you. He had dark blond hair and wore a flannel button up. He was also the only man below his thirties.

You walked up to him in your sexy Mrs. Claus two piece - a red bra with white fur at the top of the cups and a tiny matching skirt that exposed the bottom curve of your ass -, swinging your hips as you went.

''What's a young, handsome man like you doing here on Christmas Eve night?'' you asked, taking his attention away from the current performer.

''Y/N?'' The surprise on his face was laced with delight. ''What are you doing here?''

''What are you doing here?''

You had met Dean a couple years ago at this very strip club. The club was busy that night and you were having trouble with a customer who was getting a little too handsy and persistent with you despite telling him to stop. He was drunk and no one from the security team was nearby. Luckily, Dean, who was sitting at a table, saw what was going on and jumped in and got the man off of you. Security then escorted him out and he was no longer allowed entry to this strip club.

After thanking him, the two of you spend the night eye-fucking each other from across the room and ended up in one of the private booths. Sex wasn't allowed at the club you worked at, but Dean didn't pay so it didn't count.

''Shouldn't you be with your family, eating Christmas roast and drinking mulled wine instead of drinking beer at the strip club?''

''And you, shouldn't you be dancing and doing tricks with the strip-pole?'' He grinned amusedly and you shook your head.

If it had been any other customer, his rude remark would have costed him his chance at anything with you, but Dean was just bantering.

''I haven't seen you here in a long time,'' you pointed out. ''Missed seeing your cute face here.''

You weren't going to lie, Dean was hot. He had a sculpted body, a firm ass and gorgeous green eyes. He also wasn't one of those men who only went after their own pleasure in bed. For this reason alone, he was golden.

''I haven't been in town for over five months,'' he explained, taking a sip of his beer. ''I went home to see my dad, but turned out my old man didn't come home for Christmas. He's still god knows where in this country.''

''I'm sorry, Dean.'' You squeezed his arm in sympathy. ''Would a lap dance make your night better?'' you asked flirtatiously, running your hand up his arm.

Dean slipped a twenty bill in your bra and you began, sliding your hands over his chest, feeling the curves and dips of his muscles over the plaid material. You turned around, your barely covered ass now right at his eye level, before sitting over his lap and swaying your hips in a teasing rhythm.

When you glanced over your shoulder, Dean looked smug and pleased, which encouraged you to tease him more. Perhaps you'll try your best tricks on him.

You continued swaying your hips and shaking your ass, watching Dean get uncomfortable in his seat. Why did he agreed to a lap dance from you? Why? Now, he wanted to touch - and slap and bite - at your backside, but had to fight the envy or he'd get a warning.

Strip clubs were a blessing in a curse.

''Enjoying the show?'' you asked, turning around and leaning forward to give a good peak at your breasts who were struggling to be contained in your Mrs. Claus bra. They bounced as you moved, earning a groan from Dean.

''No.''

Laughing, you straddled one leg over his lap while making direct eye contact. Dean was struggling to control himself as pants were getting tighter. Hell, you could feel him right under your ass.

''What time do you finish?'' he asked.

''My shift just started an hour ago,'' you replied, just as disappointed.

.

To your surprise, Dean waited all night at the strip club.

Your co-workers were fawning over him. Could you blame them? If you were them, you'd want to get in his pants too. Men who looked like that matched the definition of a memorable night.

As the night progressed, you sensed an unspoken competition for who was going home with Dean going on, but he was already yours for the night. Sorry girls.

You got down from your second stage performance and joined Dean who was chatting with Dawn. From what you could hear, she was telling him horror stories.

''See this one guy over there?'' The brunette nodded at a silver fox a couple tables down. ''Last week, he asked for a dance - specifically from me. Want to know why? He said I looked like his grand-daughter.''

Dean grimaced in disgust. ''I'm gonna vomit.''

''One of my co-worker had a baby a few months ago and some guy asked her to squirt breast milk in his face.''

''Seriously, what is wrong with people?''

You laughed, taking a seat on the couch. The club had cleared out a lot by now so you allowed yourself a break.

''I could spend the whole night telling you weird shit that happened here.''

''People are weird,'' you confirmed.

Someone called out Dawn's name, informing her that she had a customer. She wished you two a good night and left.

''I bet that's not how you thought you'd spend Christmas Eve, uh?''

Dean shrugged. ''I get to leave with the hottest girl in this club. It's not bad.''

You made the mistake of looking at him. His sharp jaw could cut glass and you could already feel the burning the stubbles on his skin would leave inside your thighs tomorrow morning. His deep green eyes looking right at you and, god, you wanted to kiss him.

Before you could do something stupid, Dean broke your trance and stole the santa hat from your head.

''If I put this on, does that makes me Santa?''

#dean winchester #dean winchester fic #reader x dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester imagine #supernatural family #supernatural fic