#spn christmas bingo

[iprobablyshipit91]

Magical Blooms

Genre: romance / mutual pining / fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: none I think?

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Square filled: Flower Shop AU

SPN Masterlist

My first ever Dean Winchester fic and I’m terrified. Please let me know what you think! Also, all the flowers used at each part of the story are used for a reason…

This wasn't a big deal. Nope. No. Not at all. Not in the slightest. Actually, it was the exact opposite of a big deal. An insignificant speck if you will. And one that certainly hadn’t even registered on your radar. After all, there was a flurry of customers walk through the doors to Magical Blooms each and every day, and quite a number of these were regulars. Just because one of those regulars was an undeniably gorgeous man that flirted shamelessly, owned more flannel than you thought possible for one person, had adorable bow legs, and the most captivating green eyes that you had ever seen was most certainly not a big deal. And just because he was inexplicably absent today after you’d seen him every Friday without fail for the last six months was also not a big deal. It's not like you had really noticed anyway, having spent the morning softly singing Christmas songs along to the radio whilst putting together a similarly themed bouquet with holly, pine, and red chrysanthemums. And okay, maybe you were secretly hoping he would love said bouquet, but that also wasn’t a big deal. You just liked to please your customers. And anyway, all of this had to be no big deal whether you liked it or not because he had a girlfriend. A girlfriend that he came and bought flowers for weekly without fail, coming into the store and carefully choosing something different and unique rather than having an easier standing order. You couldn’t decide if he was completely in love or just an incredibly attentive boyfriend. Either way, you couldn’t let it be a big deal.

He had first rushed in to your little shop at the end of May and purchased a beautiful and remarkably expensive bouquet of white roses. You couldn’t help but drink in the way he had looked in a dark Henley, red plaid button down and jeans, shaking yourself a little to ensure you weren’t just gaping as he paid with his card. The small smirk on his face before he hurried out told you that you might not have succeeded as well as you’d hoped.

The next week he was back much to your delight; his dirty blonde hair gorgeously disheveled and green eyes sparkling at you the second he walked in. After casually browsing the shop he made a beeline towards you.

"Which of these do you like better?" he had asked as he approached, one hand holding yellow carnations and the other deep pink gloxinia. You put the pen down on top of the order form you’d been failing to fill out for the last ten minutes and forced yourself to go into professional mode. You were used to helping guys pick flowers; just because this one looked like a damn Greek god didn’t stop you doing your job.

"They are both great choices. Are they for a special someone? Or maybe a special occasion?"

"Well sweetheart, I guess I would say they’re for a special someone." he smirked, wetting his lips with his tongue and you couldn't help the way your heart beat a little faster at his deep rumble.

"Okay, well what sort of flowers does she like? Or does she have a favourite colour maybe?"

"Uh…" he faltered.

"Or he." You quickly amended, hoping you hadn't offended him. His eyes bulged a little and you were sure the flowers weren't for a man. You couldn't help feeling a little pleased.

"No." he shook his head, looking a little flustered. He took a deep breath. “No. I…" But his answer was cut short by the sharp call of Rowena, your interfering but well meaning boss and the owner of Magical Blooms.

"Y/n!"

"Excuse me just one second," you told him before meeting Rowena at the door to the back room.

"I don't pay you to flirt with customers now do I dear. I don't care how attractive they are." You felt your cheeks heat up at the volume of the older lady’s Scottish brogue. There was no way he hadn't heard her.

"Rowena!" You whispered indignantly. "Don't be embarrassing. He is buying flowers for his girlfriend!"

"Well that is a damned shame" she whispered back with a mischievous smirk, her eyes darting over to the perfection still stood at the counter. “Because that man is delicious." You rolled your eyes. You had a strange but very close relationship with the older woman having worked in her shop since you were a kid. From the way you spoke to each other though people wouldn’t have known. Most of the time your conversations sounded more like arguments. You spun on your heel with Rowena calling with a smirk "Remember I won't hesitate to fire you!"

You heaved a sigh, biting your lip to stop the retort that was brewing. Instead you made your way back to the handsome customer, plastering on a smile to cover the fact you were positive he had heard every word.

"Sorry. My boss." You rolled your eyes again.

He laughed; a deep sound that struck you low in the stomach and sent your heart into overdrive once again. "I understand, Sweetheart."

You shot him a grateful smile, keeping eye contact longer than was necessary. The green captivating you completely.

"So…do you know what flowers your girlfriend likes?" You asked again, desperately clinging on to your professionalism.

He shook his head a smirk on his handsome face. "We have only just met."

"Hmmm…." You thought briefly, glancing between the flowers. "I would say most women would probably pick the carnations out the two. They are a pretty safe bet."

He nodded but looked at you thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes, like he was trying to read your expression. "I asked which you liked better though, and you prefer the pink ones, don’t you?"

You tried to hide your surprise that he had noticed your preference for the gloxinia. You frowned and his smirk grew, his eyebrow rising mischievously.

“Yes, I just think they’re beautiful." You said honestly with a shrug. With a satisfied nod and a breath-taking smile that lit up his whole face, he quickly returned the carnations to their place.

"Gloxinia it is then!" he said; his smile boyish and utterly adorable.

You grinned back helplessly as you reached for the flowers in his hand and firmly ignored the hum of electricity in your body as your fingers gently brushed.

"My name is Dean." He said as you rung up the bouquet.

"Y/n."

That visit was just the start and you very quickly found that you looked forward to your Friday shift more than any other. Each week Dean would walk around the shop in his flannel shirt, examining all the available arrangements and then ask for your input and opinion. There was always a smile and usually a wink or flirty comment too and you couldn’t help how quickly he became your favorite customer. As the weeks went on you eventually started talking about other topics. You learnt early on about Dean’s pride and joy; a sleek black Impala that he affectionately called Baby. It almost frightened you how soon the hum of the engine became familiar to you as you eagerly awaited his next visit.

In late July he told you that he would be gone for two weeks while he visited his younger brother in California, pride once again colouring his tone. You had been taken aback at how much you had actually ended up missed him in that fortnight and realised just how important his visits had become to you. Remembering his girlfriend however you mentally scolded yourself and forced your thoughts elsewhere. But then Friday had rolled back around and he was there, almost first thing, in relaxed jeans, his favourite red plaid button down and damn it if your heart didn’t do a flip just at the mere sight of him. There was an eagerness to his expression that made you think that maybe, just maybe, he had missed you too.

"Welcome back!" You smiled despite the promises you made to yourself to take a step back. To not let yourself fall for someone who was already taken.

"Thanks sweetheart! It's so good to be back," he said as he closed the space between you. "I, er, well I brought you something." He pulled a small wrapped box from his pocket. You looked at it quizzically. "A gift, for my favorite florist." he explained. "I saw this and, well, it made me think of you."

Your eyebrows shot up; you didn't know what to say. After hesitating a moment too long he shook the box slightly for you to take.

He waited patiently, rubbing his jaw with nerves, as you unwrapped it. It was a dainty gold necklace with a small primrose pressed in glass dangling from the middle. It was beautiful and so very thoughtful. "Dean… wow. Its wonderful. I absolutely love it." You smiled up at him shyly and you saw him visibly relax as he beamed back.

"I could er, help? Put it on I mean. If you wanted me to?”

You nodded, passing him the necklace before turning slowly and moving your hair out of the way for him. You steadied your breathing as best you could, feeling your heart pound in your ears. His warm fingers brushed softly against your neck as he fastened the clasp and you felt yourself shiver involuntary. You looked back over your shoulder to him, his hot breath tickling your neck from your proximity yet he didn’t step away and you found you couldn't move either. You were trapped in a space full of his smell, his body heat, and your own thudding heart.

"Y/n. I…" Dean began only to be interrupted by the thudding of the shop door as a frantic customer came barrelling through. The spell you were both under immediately broke and you stepped away, breathless and eager to get rid of the interruption. But after fifteen gruelling minutes of helping debate the merits of pink roses over red; Dean motioned that he had to go. It was only later that night that you realised he hadn't bought any flowers.

The beautiful gift and his lack of purchase had filled you with a strange hope. Had he perhaps broken up with his girlfriend? What would he have said before you got interrupted? Would he have asked you out? The questions plagued you all night and into your shift the next day. Your fingers toying with the trinket around your neck constantly as your thoughts wandered to Dean. You were still brooding over the possibilities as you helped your best friend Benny pick out flowers for his anniversary.

"These are perfect as usual! What would I do without you, Sugar?" Came his Southern drawl as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your head affectionately. You rolled your eyes at his antics when you suddenly noticed Dean in the middle of the door way, your heart soaring at his unexpected appearance. You smiled brightly but he didn’t return it; a strange, sullen, look on his face. You stopped yourself from frowning and turned back to your friend; eager for him to go so you could speak to Dean alone, preferably before Benny realised who he was as the embarrassment opportunities would be just too great for him to pass up.

“So, I’ll see you this weekend?” You say, remembering Andrea had invited you and some other friends over for dinner.

“You will indeed,” he replies easily, pressing another kiss to your hairline before retreating out the shop, the door thudding behind him.

You turned, your eyes searching the shop for Dean. Benny is long forgotten as your mind turned towards finally finishing your interrupted conversation. He was studying a wall of flowers, half turned away from you.

"Hey!" You said a little breathlessly as you reached him. "I’ve been expecting you." He turned with raised eyebrows "I mean, you know, since you didn't, er, buy anything yesterday." You gave a small smile as your stomach erupted with butterflies. Your fingers latch onto the cool glass of your necklace, the necklace he had just given you the day before, for reassurance. "The…uh… hyacinths are fresh." You gestured awkwardly at the yellow flowers in front of him. “Or I have some marigolds you might like?” You were hoping this would be it, that he was going to turn around and tell you he wasn't here for flowers. That actually, he no longer had someone to buy flowers for. Instead he sighed and pouted. "Yeah, the hyacinths are fine."

You nodded, feeling your heart sink like a stone. Ever the professional though you gesture to an arrangement. "Is this one okay?"

"Sure." He grabbed it without even really looking and swiftly walked past you, heading to the register. Silence reigned as you rung him up. Instead of bright eyes and friendly banter there was a crease in his brow and a slight frown. It was the first time you remembered feeling uncomfortable around Dean and it felt so wrong. Your mind floundered for conversation topics. You paused before handing him his receipt.

"Dean. Is everything okay?"

He finally looked at you, and flashed half-hearted smile that looked more like a grimace at best. "I'm fine, Sweetheart. Just a lot on my mind."

"Oh, sure." You replied stiffly as you handed him his receipt. He took it and turned to go. You felt a weird constriction in your throat; the meeting had not gone as planned. You grabbed at your necklace and just as he placed his hand on the door you called out. "See you next week?"

You meant it as a goodbye but you could hear the question in your voice as clear as day. He paused, tossing you a look back, and his face broke into another small smile, though this one was much more genuine. "Of course, Sweetheart. Next week."

The next week came and he appeared and things went back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened. You talked and flirted and he bought his flowers. You never took the necklace off and felt sure he must have noticed, though he never once mentioned it. You tried not to be disappointed, you tried to be satisfied with your relationship, limited as it was, and enjoy the moments you shared. Mostly you succeeded. Sometimes you couldn't help yourself and tried to pry information about his mysterious girlfriend.

"So, you two must have an anniversary coming up soon?" You asked one day in early November as he contemplated some red carnations.

"Huh?" he turned in confusion.

"Well, when your first came in at the end of May you said you had just met someone. So your six month anniversary as a couple should be coming up." You rushed to explain yourself. You glanced shyly up when he didn't immediately respond. He had a wicked smirk plastered on his face.

"Why, Sweetheart. I didn’t realise you monitored my love life so closely."

"I don’t.” You quickly covered with a roll of your eyes. “It's just my job to remember this kind of stuff. That’s all.”

“Right,” he said disbelievingly, the mischief never leaving his eyes. “And how do you know that we would even celebrate such a minor anniversary? That’s very chick flick.”

You scoffed. "Please. Dean you are such a hopeless romantic. I’d put money on you celebrating any anniversary!"

"I take offense at the idea that I am hopeless or romantic!" He points his finger at you.

"Oh come on! You literally come here to buy flowers for her every week! How much more romantic can you get?"

"Yeah well, perhaps I only come to see you." he shot back, the teasing words sounding oddly serious with his tone. You meet his gaze and find yourself unable and to look away. The moment stretched on before you finally bit your lip and turned away with your heart thundering in your ears. It was only later that night while you pondered what he could have meant that you realised he had, once again, avoided telling you anything about his girlfriend.

You thought about his words often as you absently clutched your necklace. You wondered what he had meant and if you were crazy to think he had meant anything serious.

Benny had caught you in just such a moment of contemplation last week.

"Hello! Y/n! Anybody home?" He called snapping you back to reality.

"Sorry what?"

"What is up with you today, Sugar? It’s like your not even here." Benny asked.

"It's Friday." Rowena responded from her perch behind the register. You shot her a dirty look.

“What’s Friday got to do with anything?” Benny asked, still looking confused.

“Loverboy is coming today."

"Don't call him that." You groaned as Benny perked up at the same time and asked “Loverboy?”

"Well, what should we call him?" Rowena smirked wickedly.

"Nothing! Because he is just a customer. We aren’t dating. We aren’t lovers." Rowena just raised her eyebrows, smirk unwavering and you threw your hands up in exasperation.

“Hold up,” Benny interrupted. “Is this the mysterious Dean you mentioned a few weeks back?”

“Indeed,” Rowena supplied as you pinched your nose in frustration.

“Yes, but he’s just a friend and he has a girlfriend. There’s nothing there.”

“But you like him, Honey. I can tell,” Benny points at you.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel, he’s got a girlfriend Benny. I can’t forget that.”

Benny clucks his tongue sympathetically and pulls you in for a hug.

“Can I…”

“You’re never meeting him,” you interrupt quickly, knowing exactly what your friend is going to ask.

"Actually if you stick around you are guaranteed to meet him." Rowena pointed out unhelpfully.

You pull away from Benny annoyed. “Are you still here?” You grumble to your boss. She just smiles in response and makes her way to the back room.

"That settles it. I’m staying until he shows up." Benny declares and you know better than to argue with him.

"Fine. But if you embarrass me you can find someone else to help you with Andrea’s Christmas present!"

You didn't have to wait that long; fifteen minutes later Dean came sauntering through the door. He was dressed in his usual shirt and jacket combination and of course your traitor heart sped up at the sight of him. Benny had kept out of sight as you helped Dean choose a bunch of snowdrops. He then pounced before you could move to the register.

"Y/n, do you think Andrea will appreciate this bouquet?" He rounded the corner and then gave the biggest look of fake surprise as he pretended to see Dean for the first time.

"Oh, I’m sorry, Sugar! I didn't know you were with a customer." He said with mock surprise. You barely contained your eye roll at his ridiculous antics.

You forced your tone to be bright. "No problem. Dean this is my best friend Benny. Benny, yes I’m sure your wife will love those.”

"Best friend? Wife?" You heard him murmur before Benny began speaking again.

"Me and Y/n go way back. She always knows just what my Andrea will love."

You glanced at Dean and was pleased to see a wide, goofy, grin plastered to his face.

“She always picks out the best flowers,” he agreed.

There was a pleasant pause and then Deans phone rung. He apologised and quickly walked out of the shop to answer.

"I can see why you like him Honey, and he certainly has eyes for you." Benny smiled as soon as the door closed.

“Oh, stop it,” you attempt to brush it off although you hear Rowena’s voice drift out from the back saying “I told you so!”

Dean stuck his head back in. "Sorry. Sam emergency, I’m going to have to leave town. Can I pay for these when I get back?"

"Of course! No problem."

"Thanks. See ya next week?"

You had nodded, already looking forward to next Friday.

But next Friday had come and gone and Dean had not shown up. Which, of course, was no big deal.

"Did I miss Dean today?" Rowena asks offhandedly.

"No. He didn't come in." You try to match her tone.

"Really? Well that is good news."

You jerk your head up in confusion. "What? Why?"

"Well dear, if he isn't buying flowers maybe he’s broken up with that girlfriend of his. Which means the two of you can finally stop making eyes at each other and go out."

You feel a thrill in your heart but reply sarcastically. "Please. If Dean was interested in me I think he would have made a move long ago."

Rowena’s reply was only a knowing smile and a short "Mmm-hmm".

You try not to get your hopes up. You fail miserably.

An hour later, Rowena is gone and your closing up the shop for the night. The lights are off as you pick up your keys when you hear a tap on the door. You turn around expecting a desperate customer and gasp when you see Dean grinning back at you.

He looks just like he always did; hair disheveled, a flannel shirt layered over a black tee, and just enough scruff on his face to add to the whole rugged look he had going for him.

As you walk through the darkened shop with only the street light shining through the windows you feel a mix of nerves and excitement at his arrival after Rowena’s earlier words. You unlock the door and let him in. Cold air sweeps in and you convince yourself that is why you shiver and not because of his proximity.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not too late. I only just got back into town." he says.

You shake your head. "No, it’s fine. I was just leaving." There is a pause and you realise how much more intimate the shop seems in the low light. In the shadow you can't quite make out his eyes, but he’s staring at you. "I was beginning to think maybe something awful had happened to you."

"Like what?" he asks, his teeth flashing in the dark.

"The flu, a car crash, an alien invasion?"

He shook his head. "None of those things could keep me away." His cold hand reaches out and toys with a strand of your hair. You don’t understand how such a simple gesture could suck the breath from your lungs and send your head spinning.

"Rowena thought… well that maybe you might have broken up with your girlfriend." You bite your lip, afraid of his answer.

He chuckles. "Well it seems both you and Rowena were wrong." Your stomach drops and you step back, your hope shattering and walls around your heart flying up. You wish he hadn't shown up at all now. At least then you could have had one night of blissful fantasy.

"I see. I..uh… I need to get going." Your voice dull. "Maybe try the grocery store. I am sure…"

'"No. Y/n. You don't understand." he interrupts, his hand rubbing his jaw. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"What? Since when?" Of all the things you thought Dean might say this was not one of them.

He grins sheepishly, dips his head and rubs his neck. "I never even had a girlfriend. The first time I came in I was in a hurry, getting flowers for my friends wedding. I wanted to ask you out but I didn't have time. So I came back and I had it all planned. I was going to have you pick your favorite flowers and then give them to you and ask you out. But then Rowena threatened to fire you for flirting and I…"

"But she didn't mean that!" You interrupt, your mind reeling to make sense of his story.

"I know that now! But I didn’t then and I was worried. I didn't think you would want to date me if I got you fired. So I let you think I had a girlfriend and kept buying flowers just so I could spend time with you."

"That's…that's ridiculous."

Dean chuckles. "That's what my brother said when I explained everything to him in August. So I bought you the necklace and I was going to tell you everything. But then I saw you with Benny and I, well I thought he was your boyfriend."

"Benny is married!" You protest.

"Again, I know that now! But you two seemed awfully close and maybe I was a bit blinded by jealously." Dean ducks his head and shuffles his feet. "But I didn't want to stop seeing you. So I settled for spending a few minutes with you each week, even though I thought you loved someone else."

"That sounds familiar." You reply. You know exactly what he means because it is the echo of your own heart.

Dean steps closer his hand reaching for your cheek. "Really?"

You nod and lean closer, your heart threatening to leave your body. "Yes. Dean I…" But Dean doesn't let you finish. His cool lips find yours in a gentle caress. He pulls back his breath hot on your cheek.

"Sorry I just, I've wanted to do that for six months." You grin and grab his shirt. Pulling his lips back to yours, eager to taste and claim. You melt into each other, your heavy breathing and occasional moans filling the dark shop. You grip his hair and he caresses your neck. You slide a hand to his chest and he pulls at your hips. When you break, gasping for breath, you both smile.

Dean tucks a stray hair behind your ear. "Can I buy you dinner?" he asks, still a little breathless.

He comes into the shop the next afternoon.

"Are you coming in on Saturday now?" Rowena asks with narrowed eyes.

"Well actually…" Dean begins, scratching behind his ear.

"Dean, what can I help you with?" You appear a broad grin lighting your face. Rowena shrugs and leaves you alone; thinking that if the boy doesn't make a move soon she might have to ban him from the shop.

Dean shoots you a smirk. "I was hoping you might have some mistletoe. With Christmas being right around the corner and all."

"It's your lucky day. I think we have some in the back." You nod your head and Dean follows you to the back room, a bounce in his step.

Rowena doesn't bother to mention that there is no mistletoe in the back room nor does she comment on your disheveled state when you finally emerge empty handed twenty minutes later.

[holylulusworld]

Thank you for signing up for the SPNChristmas Bingo! Here is your card. Please remember that this is a Holiday themed Bingo, so your fics must have some sort of holiday theme in them. If you want to have a square(or more)remade, please send an ask or message to @spnchristmasbingo

Enjoy!

I love the card! Thank you. 🥰😘😘I can't wait to write more Christmas/Winter-related stories using the prompts.

OMG! PIE IS ONE OF THE PROMPTS!!!!

[smellingofpoetry]

Unexpected

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: That wasn’t what he was expecting.

Square/s Filled: “Hickies” (@anyfandomkinkbingo), Dean Winchester Custom Card "Free Space" (@anyfandomgoesbingo)

Warnings: smut, 18+, pegging, sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk

Rating: +18

Words count: 4524

Beta: @endlesstwanted ❤ (thank you again)

A/N: Hello there! I've been writing this story for the lovely @little-diable and her 12K challenge. I'm so late with this that it's actually embarrassing, but this story had a life on its own. It took me a long time to finally finish it, but I wanted you to have it and for everyone else to read it. So here we are. I hope you guys gonna love it because I'm quite proud of this one. Thank you for your patience, enjoy. ❤

That wasn’t what he was expecting.

Well, he didn’t know what to expect, to be honest, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. And he knew he should have just thrown a “sorry” out there, close the damn door and go hide somewhere, but he could only stare at the scene in front of him.

Sam was laying on the bed with his legs spread wide open, and Y/N in the middle of them: her breasts bouncing with every thrust of her hips. Her hand was closed tightly around Sam’s cock, pumping him in sync with every push.

Dean knew he should have been grossed out by the scene, but he would have been lying if he said that it didn’t affect him.

She was so goddamn beautiful naked like that.

“Oh, fuck – Dean, close – the – door!”

Sam’s voice made him snap out of it, and he quickly closed the door, forgetting to apologize. Dean stared at the door before glancing left and right, not knowing what to do with himself.

He was still trying to process what was happening when Sam’s deep, long moan reached his ears. Dean turned to the left at that, almost running to his room.

Y/N slipped inside Dean’s room, finding him sprawled on his stomach and watching a movie while eating a slice of pizza. Without saying a word, she got rid of her shoes before laying on the free space next to him. Dean waited for her to make herself comfortable and then he offered her a slice of pizza, which she gladly took. They ate in silence, watching the movie, even though she was too distracted by Dean’s presence to understand what was happening on the screen. It didn’t matter how much she tried to not look in his direction, she still glanced at him now and then while munching away on her pizza.

Dean could feel her eyes on him and tried not to squirm too much under her gaze, but it wasn’t easy, especially not after what had happened a few days ago. He had tried to avoid the subject as long as he could because he didn’t know what to say, or how to act after what he saw. So he just acted like he always did, or something closer to that. He had to admit that he might have avoided her more than he should have, but he was trying and her eyes on him didn’t help.

Dean finished eating the last bit of his pizza, wiping his fingers on one of the paper napkins using that time to figure out what to tell her. He should have probably started by apologizing, since he never really did that.

“I’m sorry –” she whispered, making Dean turn around to look at her. Confusion was all over his face.

“For what?”

“Making you uncomfortable? We thought you were out for the night, so…” she trailed off. “Not that it’s an excuse.”

“Y/N, you have nothing to apologize for.” He turned on his side to have a better look at her. “I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to – you know…” he trailed off, concentrating on some nonexistent stain on his sheets. “And I should have said something right then, but I kinda froze. So, I’m the one who’s sorry for intruding in one of your private moments.”

“So, we’re good?”

Dean raised his eyes, furrowing his brow in confusion. “You thought we weren’t?”

At that, she simply shrugged, lowering her gaze on her intertwined fingers. The thought that they might not be good anymore had, in fact, crossed her mind once or twice in the last few days. She had been friends with the Winchester brothers for some time, and the thought of losing their friendship scared her. She was closer to Dean than to Sam, if she had to be honest, which made fooling around easier for them.

They also had rules to help them out in a situation like that, and one of those was to keep what was happening between them a secret. That meant not telling Dean, which was something she wasn’t entirely comfortable with since they were used to not having secrets between them. Ultimately, she decided to agree nonetheless because Sam was right when he said they weren’t doing anything wrong, which was true. And yet, deep down, she knew that the only reason she agreed to that was that if Dean didn’t know, then he couldn’t judge her or think badly of her. Y/N wasn’t even sure why she cared so much about Dean’s opinion, but she did.

So, when he found out what was happening between her and Sam in the worst possible way, she started to question herself and her decision, and only when Dean started to avoid her, did she let the panic take over. She had tried to play it cool until she couldn’t anymore, and that was why she went to his room that night after gathering enough courage to do so.

“I have to admit that I was starting to worry a bit.” She tried to smile, but it didn’t really reach her eyes and suddenly Dean felt guilty for not saying anything sooner. “It felt like you were avoiding me, which I understood somehow, with me going behind your back like that.”

“It wasn’t… it wasn’t like that, not really.” He said, biting down on his lower lip a bit ashamed of his behavior. “I mean, I’ll admit that I was kinda avoiding you, but not because you guys went behind my back. I never really thought about that, to be honest.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, it never really crossed my mind. What you do in your private time is yours, even if that means you having sex with my brother. I sure as hell didn’t expect that, I’m not gonna lie, but I’ll never judge you for that.”

“So, you’re not mad or anything?” She asked him, hopefully.

“No, Y/N, I’ll never be mad at you for something like that and I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise.”

She sighed in relief, realizing just then that she had been holding her breath since the moment she came into his room. She bit down on her lip, trying to hide her relieved smile when she remembered something that made her frown. She turned on her side then, looking at him with curious eyes.

“So, if you weren’t mad, then why were you avoiding me?”

The moment the question was out there, Dean’s cheeks became warmer, getting a cute shade of red. Y/N watched him with a raised brow, intrigued by his reaction. Dean just shrugged, busying himself with a new slice of pizza. He tried to play it cool as long as he could, watching stubbornly at the plain wall in front of him while chewing on his pizza, but the feeling of her eyes on him made him cave. He rolled his eyes in annoyance before sharing with her his half-eaten slice, that she took without saying a word. Y/N knew him well enough to know that he would talk when he felt comfortable about it, so she simply waited while eating the pizza he gave her.

“Promise me not to laugh?”

“I would never”, she told him with a serious expression on her face. One look at her and Dean knew she was being sincere; not that he would doubt her words, but he was feeling a bit unsure.

“I kinda felt embarrassed.” He admitted, feeling his cheeks starting to get a bit warmer.

“For walking on us? That should have embarrassed us, not you.”

“No, not for that. It was more because –” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. She inspected his face, not failing to notice the redness creeping more and more on his neck.

“D–, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want…”

“It turned me on, all right?” He cut her off, raising his voice without even realizing it. He looked down at his crossed fingers, licking his lips and shaking his head. Y/N’s hand rested midair while her mouth opened and closed a few times.

Of all the things he could have told her, that one was the last expected, not that she didn’t understand why. She did, and she also understood why it made him react the way it did. She sighed, leaning towards him to leave what was left of the slice of pizza in the box on the other side of the bed. She cleaned her fingers on the napkin before bumping against his shoulder, making him glance at her.

“It’s normal to get turned on by a sex scene, you don’t have to feel embarrassed for that.”

“My little brother was in that sex scene.”

“Right, yeah.” She sighed, turning on her side again to study him carefully. She bit down on her bottom lip, narrowing her eyes on him. They both fell silent for a while until she broke the spell they had fallen into.

“You weren’t avoiding him, though.” She dared to whisper, looking at him through her lashes, a bit afraid of what was about to come out of that weird conversation. Dean licked his lips, nodding while avoiding her eyes.

Of course she would have picked on that detail, he thought.

“No, I wasn’t.” He admitted while stubbornly avoiding her gaze. She nodded, turning again on her belly just to give him some time to make him feel more comfortable. Y/N bit down on her lower lip, glancing in his direction while a lot more questions popped up in her head. There were so many of them that she didn’t know what to ask him first, until her mouth decided for her.

“What turned you on?” She blurted out, feeling her cheeks getting very warm all of a sudden. She felt him suck in a breath while fidgeting in the bed next to her. Dean cleared his throat, trying to understand how in hell he managed to find himself in the same position all over again. He glanced in her direction, catching her doing the same. He knew he should have averted his gaze, but somehow, he couldn’t do it.

“You did.”

“Oh…” She whispered, not expecting a so straightforward answer. Y/N could feel her cheeks reddening while she tried to metabolize what he had just told her. Did he just say…? No, that couldn’t be right.

Right?

Y/N peeked in his direction ever so subtly with her cheeks on fire, and her heart beating so fast that she was afraid to watch it leave her chest at any given moment. She shouldn’t have asked, not because there was something wrong with her question, but because she simply wasn’t ready for his answer.

What should she have done with that now?

She swallowed, wetting her dry lips while trying to make order among the thoughts in her head. It wasn’t easy because her brain was telling her to just leave and forget their conversation, while her body – oh, her body – was whispering an entirely different story. So Y/N took a deep breath and hoped she had enough courage left in her, even though his eyes on her were making everything so damn difficult.

“What… what about me turned you on?” She asked, lifting her gaze enough to be able to look at his covered chest and avoid his green eyes.

Dean felt his breath hitch in his throat at that question, feeling like an idiot to have brought it up in the first place. Not that there was something wrong about it, but he felt vulnerable with her knowing the effect she had on him. He had been able to keep that secret hidden from prying eyes for so long, not even Sammy knew anything about it. It was his mission to not let anyone know how he felt about her because of multiple reasons, like them being friends and living and working together. Dean did a pretty awesome job, in his humble opinion, until a few days ago when he had caught his little brother and her in bed together. And after the first shock, he realized how stupid he had been for keeping his mouth shut like that. So, he decided to open up a bit, because what was there to lose anymore? Also, she did ask him, and it would have been rude not to give her an answer. He leaned closer, then; his left shoulder brushing against hers, while with his nose he could almost touch her temple.

“There wasn’t just a thing, you know?” He whispered, focusing his gaze on her, too afraid to miss even the smallest expression.

“No?”

“No. It was the way you were moving; beads of sweat sliding down your arched back; your breasts bouncing with every push of your hips…” he said, grazing her warm skin with his fingertips before putting a strand of hair behind her ear. Dean could feel her shiver under his touch, while she stubbornly kept avoiding his eyes.

“What else?” She whimpered, feeling his hot breath against her skin and her heart beating so fast she was sure he could hear it.

“The way you looked at me when you realized I was there.” He said, traveling with his fingers down her ear and under her jaw, making her raise her eyes to meet his. “You were so goddamn beautiful, and I can’t stop thinking what would have been like to have you between my legs, with your hand on my cock just like that.” 

Dean got closer then, rubbing his nose against hers while glancing in her direction just to test her reaction. Y/N wrapped her fingers against his wrist, not sure if she did that to free herself from his grip or just because she needed to hold on to something. Her chest rose and fell too fast, while her eyes couldn’t stop darting from Dean’s eyes and his lips.

Oh, those lips – she could have died on those lips, and she wouldn’t even mind it.

She didn’t even have the time to wonder how they would taste when his mouth crushed on hers, with such urgency and neediness that she felt dizzy for a minute. That didn’t stop her from kissing him back, though.

Y/N kissed him, matching his same hunger. She disclosed her lips, just enough for his tongue to slide right in, moving against hers. All of a sudden, Dean was everywhere, and she could finally taste him. He tasted like whiskey, pizza, and something else she couldn’t put her finger on, but it was just him and she was getting addicted.

She could already feel in her bones, the need for more of him. She could feel it in the way her body was tingling all over for just a kiss. Y/N always wondered what it was like to be kissed by Dean, to be wanted by him, loved, owned. Now, that she had a taste of it, she wasn’t sure she could get enough.

Dean let his tongue swirl against hers, before slowly pulling away, dragging her bottom lip with him. “Fuck!” He whispered, resting his forehead against hers and taking a deep breath. His heart was beating faster than he could remember. He was pretty sure that not even a hunt could make it beat like that, but her… oh, her.

Dean always wondered, in the privacy of his room, while the rest of the world was sleeping, how she would feel under his fingers. He tried to push away the thoughts of her friend from his mind, but it became impossible after he found out about her and Sam.

Damn, Sam.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry…” He whispered, moving away enough to look her in the face and, damn if that wasn’t a mistake. She was looking at him with her impossible big eyes, lips parted and cheeks flushed, and all he could think of was kissing her again, harder than he did before.

“No, no… I’m…” She tried to put some words together, not even sure of what she was supposed to say. One damn kiss and her brain was already fried.

“I shouldn’t have… I mean… Sam…” He tried to apologize the best he could, but she was so distracting with her fingers on her swollen lips and furrowed brow.

“Uhm… Sam?” She echoed him, while still caressing her lip. She just had the most amazing, mind-blowing kiss and they had just stopped to talk about Sam? Why on earth were they talking about Sam, and why was he looking like she had just said the most stupid thing?

“Look Y/N, that kiss was…” He started, but she cut him off before he could even have the chance to find the right adjective to describe it.

“…It was…” She said, mimicking an explosion with her hands. Dean nodded his head in approval, smirking because yeah, it did feel like an explosion for him too.

“And as much as I want to repeat that…” He continued, but again he was being cut off by her and her eagerness.

“Oh, you can repeat that as much as you want, not complaining.” She whispered, making his smirk grow even bigger. Dean shook his head, licking his lips and faintly tasting her again.

“I want to, trust me, but I can’t do that to Sam.”

“Do what?”

“I can’t go behind his back like that. It was a mistake on my part, and it won’t happen again…”

“Dean, I think you got it wrong.”

“No, wait, let me finish this.”

“Me and Sam are not together-together.”

“I was just too… wait, what?” He asked, confusion written all over his face, and it was quite funny to see him like that if you asked Y/N.

“I’m not with Sam.”

“You’re not? But I saw you two…” He said, tilting his head to the side like that could have helped him to understand what was happening.

“We sleep together sometimes, yes, but we don’t have a relationship.”

“You don’t?” He was starting to sound like a broken record, and he was well aware of that, but he couldn’t help it.

“No, we don’t.” Y/N whispered while getting on her knees and slowly shifting towards him. Dean watched her move and he started to match her movements. He sat up and without breaking eye contact he slid backward, stopping only when his back hit the headboard. He bit down on his lip while she reached for him and sat on his lap. Dean welcomed her by putting his hands on her hips and tilting his head up just to get a better look at her.

“Sometimes, it is easy for us to rely on each other to scratch that hitch. But that’s what all that is, a hitch.” Y/N explained, putting her hands on his shoulders to steady herself before she slowly started to move her hips back and forth.

“A hitch, hm?”

“Yeah. Your brother likes to be pegged sometimes, and that’s not something you can do with a stranger.”

Dean tightened his grip on her hips, helping her move against him and creating more friction between their two bodies. Y/N followed his movements, leaning a bit closer to him. She let her fingers travel along his shoulders and to his neck, scratching his skin right where his hairline started.

“What about you, Y/N?”

“What about me?” She whimpered against his lips, her eyes darting to his eyes while her hips moved faster against him, and she could already feel him hardening underneath her.

“What do you like?” He asked her, darting to the side and slowly tracing the skin of her neck with the tip of his tongue. Y/N moaned, her moves faltering for a moment while she tilted her head to the side, giving him better access, which he gladly took, lacing his lips around her pulse point right under her jaw.

“F-fuck… Dean…”

Hearing her moan his name like that made him swell in his pants, and damn if that wasn’t the most erotic thing he ever heard. He sucked at her skin long and hard, making her squirm on his lap before letting her go. Dean let his hands wander through her body, stopping only when he reached her face. He cupped her cheeks in his palms, pushing away the few strands of hair that were hiding her from him.

“You didn’t answer me, sweetheart. What do you like?”

“I… I don’t… I don’t know.” She whimpered, biting down on her lips while still moving her hips against his crotch. Dean leaned closer then, pressing their chest together. His lips grazed at her swollen one, while one of his arms sneaked behind her, stilling her movements.

“What did you like for Sam to do to you?”

“It wasn’t… it wasn’t like that.”

“How was it, then?” He asked, desperately searching her eyes. Y/N’s cheeks were on fire just like the rest of her body, and Dean’s gaze on her made everything much worse. She could feel her panties sticking to her wetness and the only thing she wanted was to move again, hard and fast until she could come against him, and she didn’t care if she looked too desperate.

“It was mostly about Sam.”

“Did he even let you come?” Dean asked her, never leaving her eyes while his free hands closed around one of her breasts. Y/N closed her eyes, arching her back and making Dean’s life way easier. As soon as she was closer to him, he latched his lips around her other covered nipple, sucking at it through the fabric.

“Som-sometimes… fuck.” She whimpered, unable to do anything while trapped like she was between Dean's arms. She scratched with her fingers on his scalp before closing them around his locks to push him closer to her breast. Dean moaned around her nipple, letting it go with a pop.

“Why don’t we find out what makes your toes curl, hm?”

Y/N had lost count of how many times he made her toes curl.

She was laying on the bed with her hands fisting the sheets beneath her and her leg closed. Dean was hovering over her, pushing inside her with slow, languid movements. In that position, she could feel every inch of his cock reaching places she didn’t even know could be reached before.

Dean leaned forward, letting his chest graze the sweaty skin of her back. He moved some of her hair, uncovering her neck and tracing it with his tongue. Y/N turned her head to the side to give him better access. In that weird position, she could get a glimpse of him all sweaty. She reached for him, blindly grabbing the nape of his neck, and guiding him towards her mouth. Dean indulged her, kissing her deep and slow without stopping his movements. He could feel her walls flutter around his cock, and he knew that if she kept doing that he would have come soon.

Dean broke the kiss, breathing her in. A bid of saliva kept them still connected while he took hold of one of her hands, still closed around his sheets, and the other sneaked beneath her body in search of her breast.

“I want to feel you come around my cock, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” He whispered, nuzzling his nose right under her jaw.

Y/N whimpered, shaking her head at his question while she could feel his lips against her warm skin.

“No? Are you sure? ‘Cause I can feel you tightening around me with every push, babe.” He groaned, thrusting himself deeper and letting her clit brush a bit more against the mattress. “Let go, Y/N. C’mon, babe. Be a good girl for me and I’ll fill you up so good.” She moaned shamelessly, and at that moment she knew.

It was his voice that made her toes curl.

It wasn’t simply about the words he spoke to her, which were a turn-on. Other people had said the same thing to her, though, and none of them managed to turn her on that much. No, it was the way he said it with his voice deepening at the right moment. It was about the way he whispered it in her ear or let it slide on her warm skin. It was the way he groaned after the right push, the way he moaned in her mouth when she met him halfway.

“F-fuck, Y/N… ‘m close…” he panted, hiding his face on the crock of her neck. That was all it took for her to come undone. Dean felt her walls spasming around him, and after one more push he was following her, moaning out loud while emptying himself inside her.

They stayed still for a few minutes, trying to take long breaths after it felt like they had been without air for so long. Slowly, Dean fell on his right side, bringing her with him: her back against his chest, and his cock still nestled between the warmth of her legs. He covered the both of them with a blanket before sneaking his arm around her middle, while his nose nestled behind the nape of her neck. Y/N closed her eyes, snuggling against Dean’s chest a bit more while trying to regain control of her breathing.

“That was…” She whispered, too impatient to fill the silence around them, which was something new for her. silence with Dean had always been somehow comforting, but tonight things had shifted, and now that her high was coming down, she was starting to get aware of what had just happened.

“…unexpected.” He finished for her, all of a sudden too unsure of everything. He couldn’t stop thinking that he might as well just ruined the friendship they had because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

“Yeah… yeah.” She agreed with him before falling silent over again, simply enjoying a bit more of their closeness. Dean felt her moving a little between his arms, so he reluctantly loosened his grip on her. As soon as she was a bit freer to move, Y/N started to slowly dislocate from him, making both of them moan the moment his cock slipped out of her. Dean was ready to see her get up and walk away from his room when she turned around in his arms, facing him.

“Did you mean what you said?” She dared to ask, making him frown in confusion. “Did you think about how it would be to have me between your legs like that?”

“Oh…” Dean whispered, swallowing down hard without being able to form a more coherent thought. He cleared his throat, all of a sudden too dry. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Have you ever tried something like that?” She asked, watching him blush at her words.

“Uhm… I…” He stammered a little, searching for the right words other than the obvious ones just to impress her somehow; even though he knew it was a stupid thing to do, somehow she seemed not to mind.

“Would you like to try?”

[imagineteamfreewill]

Crowned

Title: Crowned

Pairing: Prince!Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: Whipping, brief language, slight angst, mostly fluff

Square Filled: Secret Relationship

Summary: Y/N is a castle kitchen maid in Lawrence, where Prince Samuel is scheduled to ascend to the throne on Christmas Eve. The extra work takes a heavy toll on her, but there’s something—or someone—else making it an even more eventful season for her.

A/N: This is a submission for the 2022 SPN Christmas Bingo (@spnchristmasbingo​). As always, thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and supporting me in so many ways. I hope everyone has a safe, happy, and healthy holiday season with their loved ones! Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

The village always bustled with activity as you neared the winter solstice, but this year even more so. The prince’s coronation was scheduled for Christmas Eve, which meant in addition to the usual preparations, everyone was getting ready for what was promised to be the grandest event the castle had ever had. Even you were mildly excited for what was to come, and normally you hated your job in the kitchens. 

“Y/N! Where did you put those eggs, girl?”

You sighed as you kneaded the dough on the table in front of you. The head baker had given you the task of making the braided loaves for the castle’s coronation feast. They were one of the traditional dishes that the prince had requested, so they had to be perfect. You’d been mixing, kneading, braiding, and baking from sunup to sundown most days, and when you weren’t working by the ovens, you were out gathering more supplies. She’d sent you to get eggs from Farmer Mills that morning and for milk from Farmer Singer the morning prior. No matter what you did, no matter how hard you worked, it never seemed to be enough. It felt like she’d been harping on you and critiquing your baking every second of every day. You were deciding between throwing something at her or crying. Maybe both.

“They’re with the butter, ma’am,” you called back, holding in the retort you wanted to tack onto the end. Her shrill voice was like a knife and you’d been on the verge of a blinding headache for three hours now. It wouldn’t be long before you’d need to beg her to send you home to rest. She probably wouldn’t agree.

“Are you daft? Come here!”

You winced, pausing mid-knead. That wasn’t a good sign. Slowly, you wiped your hands on the apron tied over your shift and made your way around the other long table. The head baker was in the back room, and as you passed by the other kitchen girls, they all gave you pitying looks of various degrees. You were the newest in the castle, having just started a few months ago after seeking refuge from a neighboring kingdom, which meant you got the brunt of all her anger and stress. Unfortunately for you, her anger and stress were at an all-time high given the upcoming feasts.

“Ma’am?” you asked, standing in the doorway to the makeshift storeroom.

“Come here,” she ordered, and you obediently stepped closer. “Where are the eggs?”

Turning towards where you’d set down the basket, you said, “They are—” You stopped mid-sentence. The basket had disappeared, as had the eggs. “They were there, Ma’am, I promise you. I put them next to the butter as soon as I got back.”

“Well, they’re not there now, wench, so what will you do now?”

You swallowed thickly, tears welling in your eyes. You’d be punished for this. “I’ll go to Farmer Mills’ straightway and fetch more, ma’am.”

“That’ll be comin’ out of your pay. Give me your hand.”

The head baker reached for her whip and struck it across your knuckles as soon as you’d extended your arm. Knowing better than to cry out, you bit down on your tongue and squeezed your eyes shut right as the whip lashed across the back of your hand again. Your skin felt warm where the blood welled up.

Three more lashes and you were free. You darted out of the storeroom and grabbed your cloak from the peg on the wall, wrapping it around your shoulders as quickly as you could. One of the other kitchen girls, Anna, was waiting for you by the door. She wrapped a clean cloth around your hand without a word, then slipped a few coins into the pocket of your apron. When you opened your mouth to protest, she shook her head and gently nudged you out of the kitchen and into the bitter cold.

You took the shortest route from the castle to the farm on the edge of the castle village. Jody’s family had farmed the land for decades. The land had been in her husband’s family since he was a young boy, and you’d become friends with her shortly after they’d married. She was kind and she always made sure you had the best. You hoped now that your friendship would help you procure the eggs you needed during the busiest time of year.

The streets were fairly empty for noontime, but you stuck to the edges of the paths, leaving room for the tradesmen and their wives, the knights, and the ladies that milled about, looking for someone upon which to bestow their Christmas generosity. Boughs of holly decorated the windows and their sills, and the red berries stuck amongst them added festive cheer to the otherwise dreary winter. Candles were already burning in the windows in an attempt to ward off the gray-tinged darkness that threatened each precious minute of daylight until the solstice. The coming winter promised to be a harsh one, but the hope of the evergreens loosened the tight knot of fear in your chest. Christmas was coming, and with it there would be rest and time for celebrations of your own. You’d never attended a servant’s dinner, and Sam would be a king. You knew that to be intimately true, more so than most, especially in the depths of the kitchens.

“My lady?”

A hand on your arm made you turn, and you almost stumbled when you met familiar eyes.

“Samuel,” you murmured, immediately smiling wide. Your cheeks felt warm even despite the cold and you glanced around, hoping no one would notice you talking to him.

He was dressed plainly, in a gray wool cloak drawn up over his head and tied securely around his shoulders, a long brown tunic that you were certain you’d seen before in the squire’s closet, and a pair of leather boots. Sam looked every part a common man, and your heart swelled with giddiness.

“What are you doing here? Someone could see you!” you whispered, though you couldn’t stop smiling. You pulled him under the eaves of a cobbler’s shop, out of the snow and away from prying eyes. The cobbler was deaf, and after you acknowledged him with a polite wave, he went back to his work.

“I was tending to my horse when I saw you leave. I have something for you,” Sam replied. He smiled down at you, his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners. A thrill went through you when his hands brushed yours as he placed a parchment-wrapped bundle into your hands. He didn’t seem to notice your bandage, nor did he see the blood that had soaked through it.

“I don’t have anything for you.”

He shook his head, still smiling. “Open it.”

Hesitant, you began to carefully unwrap the brown parchment. It fell to the ground and was instantly soaked with snow, but you could only gasp and marvel at the fabric in your hands. The dress shimmered in the winter sun, sparkling as the weak light hit it. You’d never seen something so beautiful, and you’d certainly never owned anything like it. The fabric felt lighter than air and as you ran your fingers over it, you held your breath, just in case you might blow it away. Certainly, none of the other kitchen maids or servant girls owned something like this. Not even the finest lady in all of Lawrence owned a dress as beautiful. You weren’t even sure if the royals in your home country had even seen something so fine.

“Samuel,” you finally murmured, and you regarded him with wide eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. “I can’t accept this.”

“Of course you can, my love.”

His words warmed you from the inside out and you ducked your head, hiding the bashful smile he always pulled from you. “I have no place to wear a dress like this, and Ma’am will surely find out…”

“Come to my coronation.”

Your head snapped up and the smile fell at the seriousness of his request. “What?”

“Come to my coronation,” he repeated. Sam reached out and brushed hair behind your ear. His touch was warm, a welcome relief from the winter chill, but you were too shocked to register it.

“I can’t,” you told him. “It’s not proper for a kitchen maid to attend a royal event of any kind. It’s forbidden. If I did, Ma’am would—”

“It’s my coronation. Nothing is forbidden if I say it isn’t, and I want you there.”

You looked away and stared at the feet of the horses as several knights rode by. Their hooves kicked up dirty slush and pebbles, spewing them over your shoes and Sam’s boots. Sam looked the opposite way, subtly using the hood of his cloak to shield his face from the men. After they’d gone, you didn’t turn towards him again, but you could feel Sam staring at you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said, his voice barely audible over the cheerful calls of men and women loitering in the street. “And once I am king, we can be together. There will be no law to stop us.”

“But there is a law now, and I’m bound to keep it, as are you,” you replied. You pushed the dress into his grasp and stepped just out of his reach, drawing your own cloak closer around you. The wind ruffled your shift and apron and Sam’s hair fluttered in front of his face as he stared down at you with hurt in his eyes.

“Do you not trust me to take care of you?”

“Of course I do, my King.” You bowed your head slightly, silently willing away the lump in your throat.

“Y/N—”

You stepped back again, almost tripping over a pile of firewood. Sidestepping, you lifted your head just enough to meet his gaze for a brief moment. “I’m sorry, Samuel. I must go.”

His flickered to your bandaged hand when you reached up to adjust your hood once more, and your breath caught in your throat when he blocked your path and tenderly grasped your wrist with one hand.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head. You kept your eyes down, hoping he wouldn’t see the lie in them, but he hooked a finger underneath your chin and gently guided you to look upward.

“It’s not nothing to me. You’re hurt.”

Your lower lip trembled as you held his gaze, until finally he dropped his hand and you could avert your eyes again. “I cut myself while I was helping cut vegetables. It was a clumsy mistake.”

Sam stood for a moment before he said, “You work in the bakery. Do not think so little of me that I do not know your trade. Tell me the truth, Y/N.”

“Is that an order?”

Even without looking, you felt him tense beside you.

“It’s a request,” he quietly answered. “Tell me the truth, my love.”

His words cut deep into your heart, expertly carving out the softest parts of you and extracting them from the walls you’d built. Sam knew how to get past your every defense in just a moment’s time, and a tear rolled down your cheek as you stared down at the muddy, snow-mottled ground.

“The eggs I fetched for Ma’am this morning went missing. She believed it to be my fault, and I was punished.”

“Punished?” Sam repeated, and you slowly nodded. “Show me, I beg of you,” he added.

You knew that he was no stranger to blood or injury, but the shame you felt while unwrapping your hand was like salt in your wounds. Sam would never understand what your life was like, not now in the kitchens and certainly not before you’d escaped your homeland to come to Lawrence. Accepting punishments you didn’t deserve came easily to you, and the scar that would form across the back of your hand would only be one of many that littered your skin.

Sam took your hand in his once the bandage was removed. He held it gingerly, cradled between his own gentle palms, as he inspected the lashes. They were precise and though the blood had crusted over and dirtied your skin, you knew that underneath the mess, the four lashes stood like tallies across your knuckles and hand. Four identical scars would form, a constant reminder to you and others of your supposed blunder. You’d be forever marked by your inabilities.

“You should see a doctor” Sam finally said, and you pulled your hand away.

“I’ll heal fine enough on my own,” you argued. Before he could say anything more, you wrapped the bandage back around your hand and tucked it underneath your cloak, out of sight. “I truly must go now. If I don’t return with the eggs…”

“Let me walk with you,” he insisted.

You shook your head, but Sam stepped closer, crowding your personal space. “Please, I beg of you. I’ll leave you before we near the castle upon your return. I just wish to be with you before…”

His next words went unspoken, but you heard them loud and clear.

Before I’m crowned King.

Before everything changes.

Before I’m forced to marry for the good of the kingdom.

Before you fade away from my memory.

Swallowing thickly, you looked back down at the ground and nodded. “Very well.”

Sam held out his arm. It took you a few seconds to stir up the nerve to take it, and then he was leading you toward the outskirts of the village before you could think twice. He walked in silence beside you, carefully veering you around large puddles and holes in the ground. He positioned himself between you and the busy village paths and took the brunt of the slush and mud splashing when horses rode by and when children pushed carts full of root vegetables, evergreen boughs, and firewood toward their families’ stalls. The two of you remained quiet even as you walked, and you thought it strange that Sam didn’t ask for directions to Jody’s farm, nor did he even ask the farm to which you were heading. He simply steered you along in silence.

When you finally arrived at the Mills’ farm, you removed your arm from his and gathered your skirts in one hand so you could navigate their crowded land with more ease. Chickens roamed freely in their appointed yard, as did the goats in theirs, but you knew that their son and one of the village boys wouldn’t be far off. They took good care of the animals. A loss of any could surely devastate them all.

Smoke blew from the chimney as you neared their small hut. As soon as you were within a few feet, the door swung open and Jody met your gaze, her own eyes filled with concern. You never visited midday.

“Y/N?” she asked. Once you were near enough, she ushered you inside to the waiting warmth. You immediately took your normal seat at her table, but you glanced back over your shoulder when she wasn’t there to join you. Instead, Jody stood frozen in the doorway, her eyes wide and her body tense with indecision.

“He’s a friend,” you told her, but she only continued to stare.

Jody suddenly dipped into a low curtsy, her head bowed until she could only stare at the floor. “Your Highness,” she frantically murmured. “I apologize, I did not recognize you from afar.”

From where he stood just outside the door, Sam met your eyes through the open doorway. His hood had fallen, revealing his face, and snowflakes clung to his hair. His skin was pink with cold as he gave you a sad smile, then knelt slightly to help Jody rise.

“Please,” he said, his voice soft. “I am only here to accompany Y/N.”

Silently, Jody looked between you and Sam, and you felt warmth rush to your face, though not from the heat of the fire burning in her hearth.

“Of course, please come in, Your Highness.” Jody stepped out of Sam’s way and gestured for him to sit across from you at the table. She shut the door tightly behind him, then bustled around her small home. You watched for a moment as she retrieved a second wooden cup and began to pour tea. It had been ready to drink already, and guilt as heavy as lead sank to the bottom of your stomach. Jody and her family had little as it was, and now they’d waste their precious tea on you.

Sam took the empty chair and his legs immediately crowded yours under the table. He murmured an apology, then looked around the room. Two beds had been pushed against the wall to make room for the table and chairs. A roll of blankets was tucked atop one of the hay-stuffed mattresses, and several sets of clothing hung on hooks above the second.

“I apologize for the state of my home, Your Highness,” Jody said as she carried over two cups, then placed one in front of each of you. “We make do with what we have.”

He shook his head. “You may call me Samuel. I’m nobody important here.”

Her eyes grew wide and she glanced at you, but you focused on preparing your cup of tea with the small bowl of sugar she’d somehow produced. You knew with every minute that passed you’d get in deeper trouble with the head baker. Still, you couldn’t sabotage Jody’s time with Sam with your own troubles. It was very likely she’d never see him again, just as it was likely you’d never spend this much time with him again after today.

“But Your Highness, you are always—”

“Please,” Sam insisted. “I’m only accompanying Y/N today. I needed to get away from the coronation preparations, and she agreed to show me around the village.”

Of course, you hadn’t agreed to that. You’d barely agreed to anything, and the reminder of the upcoming coronation made tears well up in your eyes.

You inhaled deeply, straightening up in your seat and willing them away. You had to focus on the task at hand. Both Sam and Jody looked over at you as you downed your tea and winced as it scalded your tongue and throat.

“I need more eggs, Jody,” you told her. “The ones I bought from you this morning have disappeared. If I do not return with more…”

You trailed off, but Jody knew what you meant. She’d managed to get you talking one day and you’d spilled the horror stories of the head baker and the punishments you and the other kitchen girls had received. She’d also heard all about the horrors of your previous home. You’d shown her the scars that came with those stories, too. The only thing she didn’t know about you was how closely you held Sam to your heart, but that was a secret you could never betray.

Sam didn’t say anything as Jody quietly excused herself to search their chicken yard for more eggs. You obeyed, sitting completely still with your empty cup cradled between your hands. The bandage kept rubbing against the healing lashes every time you moved. You tried to shift it away from them as subtly as possible, but Sam was watching you like a hawk.

“Does it bother you?” he asked.

Sighing, you turned your head to look at the flames dancing merrily in the fireplace. “Samuel…”

“I only wish for you to be comfortable, Y/N. Why will you not let me help you?”

You looked down at the cup in your hands, fidgeting with the cracked handle. It clacked against the wooden table as you carefully placed it at the edge of the table. The cups were the finest in Jody’s collection, and your stomach twisted at the thought that she might think differently of you now that she’d seen you with Sam. Would she tell the other women in the village? Or her husband? What if her son had seen you, or the other shepherd boy? If someone found out that you’d been consorting with the prince unchaperoned, you’d be done for.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I can’t get accustomed to your help. Soon enough you will be the king and I…”

“You will be my queen,” Sam fervently replied.

Shaking your head, you rose from your seat. The door swung open before Sam could speak up or join you. 

“I believe this will be enough,” Jody said. The basket in her hand was only half full of eggs, but your chest swelled with relief and gratitude nonetheless.

“It will have to make do,” you told her as you dug the coins from the pocket of your apron. “Will this be enough?”

Sam stood and you glanced over at him. His expression was unreadable, but then he nodded slightly, and you quickly looked back at Jody. It only took you a moment to realize that he’d been negotiating on your behalf.

You gripped his arm, digging your nails in until he looked over at you. He kept his expression neutral even as he turned his back on Jody to shield you from her curious eyes.

“You can’t,” you hissed at him. “They’ll ask why you’re paying her money. They’ll find out about us.”

His head shake was small, but not unnoticeable. “Dean won’t tell.”

If Dean knew, then there was no doubt in your mind that Sam had told others about your trysts, and your stomach twisted at the thought. You stepped away, staring at him for a moment longer, then turned and took the basket from Jody, who still stood by the door.

“Thank you, Jody. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, you stepped back out into the cold midday air and started making your way back toward the castle. If anyone had stopped to ask you, you would’ve told them the tears in your eyes were from the cold.

The head baker’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard and you hadn’t even made it to the actual feast yet. She’d ordered you and the rest of the kitchen girls to be working three hours earlier than normal, long before the sun even rose on Christmas Eve, and the upstairs servants had told you that the guests were talking about a feast that stretched long into the night. According to Lady Charlie’s handmaiden, most of the visiting royals planned to celebrate until the priests came for the midnight blessing. After that, there would be Christmas feasts tomorrow morning, afternoon, and evening, allowing everyone to celebrate. The leftovers would be taken to the villagers, and then there was the servant’s dinner to prepare for. You were exhausted. Between the extra work in the kitchens and the mental and emotional strain of avoiding Sam at any and all costs, you’d barely had time to catch your breath, let alone sleep or eat.

“Y/N, are you well?”

You glanced over and forced a small smile in Anna’s direction, though you never truly met her eyes. Your brain and hands were focused on the lump of dough sat on the table in front of you. Ever since leaving him at the Mills’ farm, you’d thought of little else besides how Sam could approach you next. He’d always teased you about getting bold and visiting you in the kitchens while you were working, but the very thought of that struck fear into your bones. If the head baker, or anyone, really, discovered your relationship with him, you’d be hung.

“You look pale, and tired. Maybe you should rest.”

You shook your head and tried to muster a little bit more life into your tired body. “I’m fine, Anna. Truly.”

When you looked up at her, she was turned toward you but her gaze was focused on the doorway leading to the castle courtyard. All day long, pages and servants from the neighboring kingdoms had been arriving to serve their own dignitaries, so when you turned to see what she was looking at, you’d expected an exhausted young boy or girl, looking lost and very, very hungry. What you hadn’t expected was Sam.

Sam, dressed in navy velvet, a gold circlet atop his head, and a gold chain resting on his chest. Sam, with shining black boots and his sword tucked neatly against his hip. Sam, with his hair shining in the light from the candles and his eyes focused solely on you.

“Y/N,” he began, and you swallowed thickly, your fingers digging into the dough in front of you. Your legs trembled and you had to lean against the table for support. He stepped through the doorway, ducking down to avoid knocking his head, and slowly approached the table where you and Anna worked.

“I cannot do this without you by my side. It would be wrong for the woman I love to be absent from this part of my life. I beseech thee, with every part of myself, to join me.”

He held out his hand as he stopped a few feet from the table. You couldn’t tear your eyes away and you licked your lips, trying to come up with a suitable response. When notching came, all you could do was gape at him and shake your head.

“Sam, I— I cannot be with you.”

“Yes, you can,” he gently argued. “You will not be punished. You are committing no wrong.”

You closed your mouth and quickly shook your head, glancing over at Anna as you continued to grip the table through the bread dough. It would no doubt have to be thrown out after your mistreatment. No good loaves could come of it now, just as no good would come to you after Sam departed. You were utterly and truly ruined.

“And what’s this? Why aren’t you— Your Highness!”

Whirling around, you stared in shock as the head baker collapsed into a low curtsy. It only took a second before Anna had collected herself enough to do the same. Only you and Sam remained standing, but he was still focused solely on you.

“I cannot,” you croaked, shaking your head. You tried again, more urgently this time. “You need to go, Your Highness. Please.”

Against your better judgment, your eyes flickered down to the scars on your hand. The head baker would surely whip you again for this. When you noticed Sam looking down as well, you hurried to tug the sleeve of your dress down to cover them, but it was too late. His eyes caught the movement and his eyes darkened slightly at the scars, then even further when he saw the whip coiled on its wall hook behind you. Ma’am had left it there as a reminder of what would happen if you or the other workers slacked on your tasks for the coronation or the Christmas feasts.

Sam dropped his hand back down to his side and his other came to rest on the hilt of his sword. He walked around the table, approaching the head backer, who still lay prone on the dirty kitchen floor.

“Are you the mistress here?” he asked. His voice had changed and you shuddered at the formality of it. With you, Sam spoke softly, gently, and with all the earnestness he could muster. Now, his words dripped with displeasure.

Silently, Anna rose and helped you over to sit on a nearby barrel of brined fish. It hadn’t quite made it to the storehouses before everyone grew busy. The smell of the fish was overpowering and it had been all day, but you barely made it to the barrel before you stumbled over your own feet. Sitting in the stink would have to do.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Ma’am whimpered.

You closed your eyes, holding your breath even as your lungs burned. You couldn’t bear to watch Sam fulfill the part of his job you knew he hated. Yes, people far and wide respected him for his level head and for being a fair and just ruler in his father’s stead, but he was also Lawrence’s judge, jury, and, when absolutely necessary, executioner.

“Then I command you to treat your workers with the grace they deserve in my kingdom. This will be your one and only warning.” Sam paused. “My father would not be so kind. You are lucky that I will hold this discovery close. I will be watching you well.”

Ma’am whimpered again, her words unintelligible as Sam backed away and scanned the room for you. Once he found you sitting beside Anna, who’d stood tensely by your side throughout the whole exchange, his face softened.

“What must I do to convince you?” he asked.

You looked down at your hands, ignoring when Anna’s grip on your arm tightened at the sound of Sam’s voice directed toward you. 

“Samuel… I’m but a servant. What we had needs to end now that you are becoming king. You must marry for the good of the kingdom, even if it is not what you desire.”

“You sound like my father,” he replied, a hint of humor in his voice.

His footsteps were soft as he crossed the room, stepping over the baker. His sword bumped against the leg of the table when he stopped a few feet away from you and Anna.

“May he rest in peace. He was a wise king, and you will be too,” you added.

“I will be even better with you by my side, Y/N. I love you, and I always will. You cannot ask me to try and give my heart to another, not when it will always be with you.”

Tears made your vision blurry until you finally looked up at him. His expression was pained as he waited for you to reply. When Anna gripped your arm even tighter, unable to stand the silence any longer, you shook your head.

“And what of your people? They will speak ill of me. Will you be able to handle that?”

“No one will—”

“They will,” you interrupted, giving him a sad smile. You sniffled and patted Anna’s hand to signal her that she could let go. When she did, you carefully stood from the barrel, but you didn’t move away from it. “They will, my love, and you cannot punish them for it. They will be jealous and confused and angry that you chose someone so unworthy of your love, but fighting against their venom will only make it worse.”

Sam fell silent as he searched your face. Finally, he answered, “Are you accepting me, then? Will you stand beside me today, and every day after?”

After a moment, you nodded and offered him a small smile. “Yes, Samuel.”

Beside you, Anna laughed in pure relief, and you glanced over at her. She tried to muffle it, but you began to laugh as well. Sam surged forward and took your hand in his, making you look back at him. He dipped low to press a kiss to the back of your uninjured hand.

“I believe there is even a dress waiting for you, my lady,” he said.

You laughed a little more then, and when Sam took your hand to lead you out of the kitchens and up into the castle, you didn’t resist. Instead, you turned to wave at Anna. When she called after you in hopes that you’d come visit her in the days to come, you nodded fervently. You’d never forget the friend she’d been to you since arriving in Lawrence, and you’d repay her kindness tenfold.

Sam led you up to the main hall of the castle, where his older brother stood waiting in similar clothes. His robes were a deep red and the circlet on his head was also gold. The sash across his chest bore the Winchester crest, and the polished hilt of his sword gleamed bright in the winter sun streaming through the windows.

“You work in the kitchens?” he asked once you and Sam had fully emerged from the staircase. 

Tentatively, you nodded and glanced over at Sam, who’d positioned himself between you and the hall, shielding you from prying eyes. A tall evergreen decorated with candles and red berries stood proudly behind Dean.

“Yes, sire,” you replied, dipping into a slight curtsy. While you were certain that he’d disregard your show of respect given Sam’s affection for you, Dean was still captain of the King’s guard and that title alone was enough to make you tremble. He held more power than most people knew.

Dean scoffed and reached out to take your other hand. He bowed and kissed over the scars. His touch was gentle and you felt your face grow warm. Being kissed by one Winchester brother was enough to make your heart race, but two? You were practically floating, and Sam chuckled knowingly when he caught your somewhat dazed expression.

“Come, my love. Dean will be the one to escort you down the aisle for the ceremony,” Sam murmured.

You blinked and looked up at him, at a loss for words. Being left to your own devices in the upper parts of the castle was a terrifying prospect, especially since Sam was the one who’d escorted you up. If you were caught without him… You’d heard horror stories of servants who’d assumed too much of themselves. You shuddered.

“You will be perfectly safe,” he reassured you. He squeezed your hand and nodded encouragingly, but your stomach still churned with nerves. 

When you glanced over at Dean, he nodded as well. “You have my word that I will not leave you, Y/N. I am sworn to my brother’s protection, and therefore I am sworn to yours,” he said.

Slowly, you forced yourself to exhale and nod in agreement. “Very well.”

“I will see you soon, Y/N,” Sam said. He dipped down and pressed a kiss to your cheek this time. The flour that clung to your skin didn’t seem to bother him, and underneath the white dust your cheeks grew warm for the umpteenth time since he’d arrived to pull you from the depths of the kitchens. Sam always seemed to be able to turn you into a lovesick young girl, but you weren’t about to complain.

Sam backed away. You watched in silence as he turned, then strode down the hallway with such purpose that the path in front of him cleared immediately. Most of the crowds you had seen entering the castle for hours were nowhere in sight, but no one in the hall stopped to bow as he passed, as they had for King John. You wondered if he’d requested such behavior or if things would change once he was crowned. Since you’d begun meeting in secret months ago, Sam had never struck you as the kind of person who demanded a person’s respect. He always earned it in his own subtle way, just as he had earned your affections. He’d snuck past all your defenses in less time than it took you to escape from your home country.

Once he’d disappeared from view, Dean lifted his arm for you to hold. You gratefully accepted and let him guide you in the direction of the masses.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you entered the main part of the grand hallway.

“To the coronation,” Dean replied. He steered you around a group of knights who had gathered along the edge of the hall.

You stumbled and gripped his arm even tighter as ice cold panic flooded your veins. “The coronation? Now? I thought it not for a few hours!”

With his other hand, Dean steadied you. He slowed his pace for a few steps, then stopped when you planted your feet in the plus golden rug, refusing to move.

“Yes,” he answered, “the coronation. Where did you think we were going?”

“I— I did not know, but I am not— I cannot go to the coronation!” you hissed at him. You glanced down at your shift and the thin leather shoes you’d been wearing for years now.

“That’s horse shit. Of course you can go. Sam’s requested your presence, Y/N. You won’t be turned—”

“Maybe not,” you argued, “but I won’t truly belong.” You pulled your arm from his. “I’m dirty. I smell like yeast and fish. I don’t know the proper way to act or the proper things to say. I can’t dance. I don’t belong here, Dean, and one man’s love cannot change that.”

He watches you for a moment before his expression softens. “I believe that is why he cares for you, Y/N.”

You stared at him, confused. In your head, there’d been lists of reasons for Sam to turn you away. There’d been an even longer set of ways that the people of Lawrence could dismiss you from the coronation, each one more humiliating than the last. How could he love your faults?

Dean gently guided you to take his arm again, then began walking toward the cathedral at the far end of the castle. “You are not of royal blood, and you were once a stranger to Lawrence, but you’re intelligent. You’re quick, and you make him happy. Not a day has gone by that he hasn’t spoken of you, and he’s mentioned no less than a thousand times how beautiful you are.”

“Truly?” you asked, and he chuckled. When you glanced over, Dean stared straight ahead, but he smiled.

“Truly.”

You stopped before a set of doors that stretched high above your head, ending in a point only inches from the lofted ceiling. The wood shined in the candlelight and you shivered as guards on either side pulled them open for you and Dean. A gust of wind blew through the cathedral, making the candle flames on the golden stands all around you dance and flicker. Rows of dignitaries inside turned at the sound of the giant doors creaking open and every bit of giddiness from Dean’s commentary drained out of your body.

“You swear that this is what Sam wants? That this isn’t a trick?” you asked, looking up at him.

Dean regarded you with a soft smile. “I swear, Y/N. I gave my word that I would protect you, did I not?”

Hesitantly, you nodded. “This is true, but—”

“Then you are safe with me. I’m the captain, and they will obey me”

You took a deep breath, then nodded again. “Very well. I’m ready.”

He dipped his head and forced his expression into a neutral one before stepping forward. You kept your eyes focused on the grand altar at the front of the cathedral as Dean led you down the center aisle. The ladies and lords on either side of you gasped and whispered as you passed. It took every fiber of your being not to turn and run the other direction, and by the time you’d reached the steps that led to the altar, you were trembling.

“You are safe,” Dean whispered. He leaned in close to you so that only you could hear. “They cannot harm you, nor will I let them try.” When you shakily exhaled and nodded in understanding, he continued, “Sam will arrive soon. After he is crowned king, you will take his arm instead of mine.”

Confused, you looked up at him just as the fanfare began. “What then?” you asked.

The twinkle in his eye made your stomach flip. “And then you will join us at the feast. Sam can have new clothes brought for you, if you would like, and you will celebrate with us. I believe he had a gown made for you especially. Did he not?”

Before you could answer, Dean straightened and lifted his fist to place it over his heart, just like the other knights did as Sam entered, but his other arm stayed in place to hold you steady. You clutched it tightly as the music continued and Sam processed down the center aisle of the cathedral. Long strands of evergreen garland marked his way. You marveled at his steadiness amid the grand procession. Children selected from the village and from royal families assisted with his robes and men in heavily decorated robes of their own carried tall, pure white candles and shining gold artifacts ahead of him.

Sam looked every bit the king you knew him to be. In the time since he’d left you in the care of his brother, Sam had donned a red sash embellished with the Winchester crest. A long navy robe trailed behind him, trimmed with white and composed of the richest velvet and fur you’d ever seen. His expression was grave and steady, though you knew his nerves hid deep down inside of him. Sam had told you how scared he was to be king. He didn’t want to let down his people or harm them in any way, but you had faith in him. All of Lawrence did, too. If they didn’t, his father wouldn’t have allowed him to be crowned king until it was absolutely necessary. Instead, John had made way for his son to take the throne at a much younger age than he had. In his last breaths, John had ordered for there to be no royal advisors or interim leaders in between his death and Sam’s ascension. It was only to be Sam leading the people, and you agreed wholeheartedly.

The ceremony passed quicker than you’d expected, and soon Dean was leading you across the dais to where Sam stood, newly crowned. He looked out over the visiting lords and ladies with the same serious expression as before, but when he turned to look at you, the sun shone through the stained glass in the massive basilica. You couldn’t help but smile back as he took your hand in his, bowed, and kissed the back of it. The gasps from the gathered crowd were but background noise as Sam lifted his head just enough to catch your eyes from below.

“My King,” you greeted. Your cheeks ached from the intensity of your own smile, but you couldn’t stop. The sun shone down upon you, casting colored shapes across Sam’s face and the robes that swirled around his feet like dark ocean waves.

“My heart,” he answered.

Thank you for reading! <3

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[katymacsupernatural]

Surrounding Warmth

Dean Winchester x Reader

800 Words

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo

Square Filled: Sitting By the Fire

Every square inch of your body ached. From the nails on your toes to the hair on your head. You were battered and bruised. Not to mention exhausted. Barely able to slide out of the Impala, you leaned against it.

Dean was in just as bad of shape. He had a large gash above his eye, the skin already bruised and swollen beneath. His jeans were ripped, blood staining his thigh. Grimacing as he moved, he still came over and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Shall we?”

Nodding in agreement, the two of you staggered down the hallway. “What the hell happened to you two?” Sam asked as he placed his duffel bag on the table. 

“Ghouls,” You both answered at the same time. Dean stopped at the table while you continued on, wanting nothing more than a long soak in a hot bath. 

“Where the hell are you going?” Dean asked Sam, pouring a tall glass of whiskey.

“Jody needs help. I wasn’t sure if you would be back or not, so I told her I’d come help.”

You sighed, wondering if your bath was going to have to wait. “We can come with,” Dean offered, just as you knew he would. 

“No, you two look like you need some time to relax. To heal. Jody and I have this,” Sam assured Dean. 

The rest of the conversation continued on behind your door as you closed it. Grateful to be back home, you immediately slipped off your bloody and ripped shirt, throwing it in the trash. Your jeans went next before you gingerly stepped into the connected bathroom. While a long soak in a bath sounded amazing, you decided on a long hot shower instead. Leaning against the white tiled walls, you watched as the dried blood mixed with the water, swirling down the drain along with some of the soreness.

Once your fingers started to wrinkle, you turned the water off. Wrapping a towel around you, you headed back into your room to see your favorite lounge pants and sweatshirt laid out on the bed with a note.

“Whenever you’re ready, come to the library.”

Slipping on your fuzziest slippers you felt completely rejuvenated. Sure, your lip was still split, and your ankle ached, but you felt so much better. 

Music spilled from the library, light from the Christmas tree filtering gently around the corner. Your slippers barely made a sound on the wood floor as you stepped around the corner. Stopping, you took in the scene in front of you, your heart full. 

Dean was already in the library, lounging in one of the old fashioned leather arm chairs. He had already showered, his hair still damp and plastered to his head. A crystal glass hung carelessly from his fingers, partially filled with his favorite whiskey. He had already started a fire, the glow sending shadows across his face. His feet were bare, a plain white shirt stretched across his shoulders. He was dressed so simply but to you he had never looked better.

A cup of hot chocolate sat on the table beside your chair, filled to the brim with marshmallows. Coming around the chair, you brushed your hand along his shoulder. He barely flinched, his hunter instincts sluggish. “How are you feeling?” You asked him, settling down sideways on his lap, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. Keeping your hand on the swell of his chest, you waited for his answer. 

“Like I was hit by a truck,” he winched, shuffling his legs to get comfier. 

“I can move,” you offered, starting to move. His hands clamped down on your waist, holding you in place.

“Don’t you dare,” he insisted, one hand moving up to cover your cheek. “You make it feel better,’ he answered. “Stay.”

Resting your head against his chest, you breathed a sigh of contentment. With the heat from the fire and his body enveloping you, you could feel your eyelids growing heavy. “Love you,” you whispered against his skin, feeling his hand tightening against your waist. 

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278   @cap-just-said-language @colette2537   @deansgirl215  @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller  @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories   @mrspeacem1nusone  @ria132love @ruprecht0420  @screechingartisancashbailiff   @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @thoughts-and-funnies @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666 @beabutterfly987  @sexyvixen7 @supernatural3002 @deans-baby-momma @brilovesdeanwinchester @deandreamernp @spngif​

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[deanwinchesterswitch]

The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas ~ Master Post

Summary: Dean’s holiday spirit is nowhere to be found. Fed up with his Grinch-like behavior, Nicole is determined to open his heart again to the wonders of the world around them and help him find joy in the Christmas season.

Pairing: Dean x Nicole/Nico/Nic {OFC} (Established Relationship)

Warnings: Fluff; Angst; Flirting-lots of flirting (sometimes sexually suggestive); Implied smut; Language (not too over the top); A bit of canon divergence

Share in Dean and Nic's journey. Visit The Road So Far Travel Map.

*Photos were taken by me or downloaded from Creative Commons sites Pixabay and Unsplash.*

Word Count: TBD ~ chapter length will vary greatly.

Beta(s): @princessmisery666 and @wayward-and-worn

Credit: The stunning title cards and dividers were made by @talesmaniac89. I love them so much!!

Author’s Notes: A sixteen-part series based on my SPN Christmas bingo card. Each square will tie into an overarching storyline. I will tag my Love Me Some Pie tag list (tagged for all Dean-centric fics). Let me know if you would like to be added. Fic titles are lyrics from songs that apply specifically to the square prompt or spirit of the story for that square. 

Part One ~ A Bad Banana

Part Two ~ See What the Time's Done

Part Three ~ Hail the New

Part Four ~ Sweetest Things

Part Five ~ Let Me Show You

Part Six ~ Take the Freeway Down

Part Seven ~ We Three Kings of Everything, Jack and Johnny, and Jim Beam

Part Eight ~ Fancy Ties n' Granny's Pies

Part Nine ~ A Babe So Dear

Love Me Some Pie tag list:

@123passwort // @akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deaneverafter // @deans-baby-momma // @deans-spinster-witch // @deanwanddamons // @globetrotter28 // @iamsapphine // @idreamofplaid // @impala-dreamer // @iprobablyshipit91 // @irgendwas122 // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @justagirlinafandomworld // @justrealizedimmascifygurl // @ladysparkles78 // @lyarr24 // @mimaria420 // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @musicissmylife // @mvdeanw // @pallographsunspot // @princessmisery666 // @raisinggray // @shawnie74 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix // @yvonneeeee

[unnuevosoltransformalarealidad]

Alone

Pics from Pinterest | Divider from @firefly-graphics

Title: Alone Summary: You missed your Christmas date with your boyfriend to be on your own.  Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader eventually Squares filled: Alone at Christmas for  @spnchristmasbingo // Dean’s Flannel for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo // Free Space for @badbitchesbingo //  Warnings: Fluff, Christmas day, lazy day. Word Count: 324

| Masterlist | SPN Masterlist |

It was Christmas morning, and you were still in your pajamas. You were supposed to be driving to your boyfriend’s house to spend the holidays together, but when you woke up, you weren’t feeling the greatest emotionally, you wanted to be alone, you needed to be alone. 

You first put your phone in silence, then grab your boyfriend’s favorite flannel and your comfiest blanket for special occasions.

It was going to be a lazy day.

You grabbed the cookie container you had prepared to take to your boyfriend's, a mug of hot chocolate, set up a movie and got ready to spend a lazy day on your couch watching movies on Christmas day.

You should've told Dean that you weren't attending, but he was going to ask for explanations and you didn't have any, you just felt the need of being alone.

At some point you fell asleep because now that you were walking up, the sun was settling in and the weather was getting colder.

It was time to check your phone, and as you expected, you had too many text messages and missing calls from Dean. He was probably worried.You texted a quick "I'm fine. Happy holidays 💖" and put your phone down again.

Tired of Christmas movies, you put on a rerun of one of your favorite tv shows when you heard someone clearing their throat.

"You look better than me in that flannel, sweetheart," Dean said with his gentle voice.

"Hi babe," you greeted him stretching out from the back of the couch to peck his lips, "I'm sorry about today "

Dean shook his head and placed a kiss on your forehead, "you should've told me that you need this. I would've joined you"

"I needed to be alone. I'm sorry " you apologized hugging him.

"We still have some Christmas time and hot chocolate ready, let's finish this day together." He said, and then kissed you stealing your breath.

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Dean / Jensen Tag List @akshi8278​ | @sexyvixen7​ |@larrem88​ | @lyarr24​ | 

[winchester-girl67]

SPN Christmas Bingo 2022

A/N: This will be my masterlist for @spnchristmasbingo ❤️💚

Baker AU: Cravings (Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader, Baker!Dean x Pregnant!reader) The reader gets some intense pregnancy cravings when she smells the alpha next door cooking. She grabs a plate and knocks on his front door.

♡ Hanging mistletoe: Love Deliciously (Dean x reader) After an incident on a hunt, the reader tries to boost the boys' morale with a homemade feast and a little Christmas decorating. But Sam leaves for his own romantic endeavours and she catches Dean with himself after months of feeling touch starved for his affection. Something he hasn't given freely lately as his own guilt weighs on him. Nothing a little mistletoe can't fix though.

♡ Snow angels: Happy Hour (Part 2) - Happy Ending (Neighbour!Dean x reader) A few weeks into dating Dean and things finally heat up with the first snowfall of the season. - Sequel to Happy Hour

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Baby It's Cold Outside

Sam Winchester x plus size reader

A freak snow storm traps you and Sam in your motel room for the night so there’s only one thing for it, an evening of peace and quiet

Warnings: little bit spicy but not really full on smut, established relationship, around season 3, partial nudity, fluff, ok actually this is kind of smutty so SMUT

WC: 1.5k

Square Filled: Blizzard @spnchristmasbingo

Minors DNI

SPN Christmas Bingo

“Well, it looks like we’re not going anywhere tonight.” Sam shut the flimsy motel curtains, blocking your view of the frankly violent blizzard occurring right outside. 

“That’s just great.” You moaned, flopping back onto the cheap bed, dropping your already packed duffle bag off the side. The shaggy haired man just chuckled and kicked off his boots, taking a seat beside you.

“It can’t be that bad being stuck here with me.” His pink lips turned up in an adorable smile, his dimples becoming prominent. A large hand cupped your full cheek and rolled over so he could rest his weight on his other hand, his lean body fitting between your soft thighs.

Your face flamed as you looked up at him, watching as the hazel in his eyes disappeared behind a haze of lust. “I could think of better things to do.” Your arms wound around his neck, pulling his face towards you.

“Oh? And what would that include?” The tip of his round nose brushed against yours, his breath fanning over your lips. From this close, you could see the small imperfections on his face that only served to make the young hunter even more beautiful. You could feel him growing hard against your thigh, the heat of him dangerously close to your core.

Silence settled over you like a comforting blanket. The orange glow of the streetlamp outside your room provided a comforting glow against the grey wash of the snow. Sam’s hair fell in front of his face and with a smooth motion, you brushed it back, your thumb gently caressing his clean shaven cheek. “I think that I should get undressed…” You started, your touch slowly moving downwards, lightly brushing each button of his flannel, feeling the strong chest hidden beneath only a couple layers of fabric.

“Keep going.” He was nosing at your neck now, lips tracing the trail of dark bruises he had left on your skin a few days before. You barely suppressed a gasp as he nibbled on a particularly sensitive mark right behind your ear.

“And then, once I’m completely naked, you should get naked too.” You could feel the way his lips turned up in a devilish smirk against your skin. He rested more of his weight on top of you, pinning your wide hips to the mattress, his other hand cupping one of your thighs.

“What then?” His voice dropped an octave, and you knew he was waiting for you to give your consent, to tell him to let loose and ravage you properly.

Your fingers slipped up into his shirt and caressed his abs, preening as they tightened beneath your palm. “Once you’re completely bare, perfect skin and cock on display for me, I want you to…” Your lips connected with his ear in a delicate peck before your tongue darted out and licked at the lobe. Sam shuttered above you, his thin hips bucking into yours. “Get in the shower cause you stink like ghoul.” And with a mighty shove, you pushed him off of you and he rolled to the floor.

There was a grunt, not of pain but more of annoyance, and then a head of messy brown hair popped up on the other side of the mattress. “That was mean.” He pouted but you just rolled your eyes.

“And you stink, go shower.” He huffed, clearly peeved about you working him up only to tell him to take a shower, yet he complied anyway. With a groan, the tall man stood up from the carpeted floor and began a very very slow walk to the bathroom.

His plaid came off first, quickly followed by his dark undershirt, letting you get a good look at his tanned, muscular back. Heat pooled in your already ruined panties and you knew that if he didn’t smell so awful from the hunt earlier that day, you would have happily joined him in the cramped shower. You heard the clink of his belt buckle.

You watched, hypnotised, as the leather was slowly pulled through the loops of his jeans, the denim sagging even more with every loop the belt moved through, exposing the top of his Saxx boxers. You bit down on your bottom lip as his jeans slipped down his powerful legs, his boxers quickly falling to the ground. 

As he walked away, you could see flashes of his cock bouncing in time with his strides. “Damn you Winchester.” You muttered to yourself, firmly turning away from your boyfriend to focus on the small sliver of window that wasn’t covered by the white curtains. You slipped from the bed and looked out onto the world.

Sam was right, snow was coming down from dark clouds quickly and with a surprising amount of force. Your truck which was parked just outside was already covered in a layer of white at least a couple inches thick. The wind screamed just outside, making the glass of the window wobble in its frame. 

Yet you smiled. Maybe this could be good for you both, it had been a very long time, if ever, that you had any much needed time to yourselves. With the desperate search for a way to break Dean’s deal and dealing with the fallout of John’s death, you needed a vacation.

With a quick text to Bobby and Dean, assuring them that you were fine, just trapped for the evening, you shut off both yours and Sam’s phones. Quickly, you stripped off your dirty clothes and pulled on a shirt from his bag before pulling all of the sheets and blankets from the bed and piled them on the couch.

By the time you heard the shower shut off, you had created a blanket fort just large enough for you both, complete with the motel radio and a flashlight that you covered with a piece of fabric, dousing the small area in a dim glow. 

“Princess?” Sam’s confused tone made you smile as you poked your head up and out of the blankets. He had pulled on a fresh pair of boxers, his hair, though mostly dry, still had some droplets of water clinging to the ends. Your eyes followed a particularly large drop as it fell from one of the long strands and rolled down the front of his body until it reached the neatly timed patch of hair that peaked out over his underwear.

“I’m right here, handsome.” You answered, desperately trying to keep your voice level. You wanted at least an hour of just nice cuddling before your boyfriend wrecked you. His kaleidoscope eyes softened as they landed on you and like a dog following their master, he strode across the room, keen to wrap you up in his arms.

There was a brief struggle as he fit his long limbs into the fragile structure but soon, his back was propped up against the couch cushions, his legs stretched out in front of him as you lay on his lap, ear firmly pressed against his chest, listening to the strong beating of his heart. 

Large hands skimmed your back beneath your shirt, holding you as close as he could. Your own hands held his ribs, feeling the way he inhaled and exhaled, holding tight like he was your lifeline. “This was a great idea.” He murmured into your hair.

Sighing, you glanced up at him. “I’m glad you think so, it’s even better now that you don’t smell like you crawled through the sewer.” There was a slight hitch in his breath and you could tell he wanted to retort something sassy but instead he just smiled against the top of your head.

“You know what would make this even better?” There was a teasing tone to his voice that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“What’s that?” You expected him to respond in a similar manner to your own teasing from earlier but Sam always had a trick up his sleeve.

“If you were sitting on my cock, keeping me nice and warm while we watch the snow fall.” A moan slipped past your lips before you could stop it. And he laughed heartily, shaking your body with the force. “Sorry, couldn’t help it.” He said between chuckles.

“Yeah you could.” It was your turn to pout now.

“You’re right but it was pretty funny.” You glared at him, face set with determination. Suddenly, your cold hands were in his boxers, gripping his considerable length. Sam hissed at both the coldness of your skin and the feel of you finally touching him where he needed you.

“I guess I should prove you wrong though. Just cuddling is so much better than cock warming.” You rocked forward onto your knees which were planted by his hips, and guided him back to your entrance.

“Go on princess, prove me wrong.” He growled, indulging your challenge. You huffed and sat down, back arching almost painfully as you struggled to take him fully. “Fuck.” Sam groaned. His jaw was locked, the muscles working over as he let you do what you wanted to him.

“S-see, just -shit- cuddling is better.” Your plump body trembled on top of him as he threw his head back, exposing his long neck to your hungry lips.

“I can see your point now.”

Supernatural Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @km-ffluv

Sam Winchester

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[spnexploration]

Masterlist

Dean Winchester x Reader

Catatonic + Catatonic: Bonus Bit - Sam gets hurt on a hunt, but the message doesn't seem to be getting through to Dean. The reader has to think of something quickly to motivate him to move, but how will Dean take being threatened? And what happens when there are questions at the hospital?

Collared (masterlist) - Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

Christmas Baking - a short, fluffy fic for Secret Santa. Does include a touch of A/B/O dynamics.

Hello - light-hearted fluff fic in a royalty AU

Blood - angsty drabble

Tell me this isn't yours - slightly less angsty drabble

Captions - a silly, funny one-shot

Pack (masterlist) - Omega!Reader is thrown into a world she's not expecting when her mate turns out to be a hunter, and she's not used to Alpha & Omega Pack dynamics.

I've Got You - Dean rescues you. Lots of Protective!Dean vibes!

Distress - There's a monster hunting distressed Omegas. As an Omega Hunter, you're perfect for playing bait. Only problem is Dean is going to have to get you distressed...

Little O - In a world where Omegas are kept in line through frequent orgasms, Dean can't work out why his Omega's "O"s keep wearing off. This is not lovely Dean, but he's not dark either.

Trouble - you're in trouble with your Dom, Dean. Fairly classic punishment and then smut, with a lot of explicit consent built in.

Escort - Dean needs an escort to help him with his cover on a case (more of a case fic and flirting, no smut)

A Christmas Case - Dean drags you out of bed to go to a case, ruining your Christmas plans. But does he have a plan to make up for it?

Comments - A man you're interviewing makes some crap comments about your body, and Dean doesn't help. Can he make it up to you?

Sam Winchester x Reader

Bad Timing - Set in season 5, what happens when Dean and Sam are trying to avoid angels and demons at every turn, but then Sam's girlfriend falls pregnant? Part 2

Platonic fics

Brotherly Figures (masterlist) - Sam and Dean save a 15 year old, newly orphaned teenager from vampires. Much to their chagrin, she ends up tagging along on hunts, giving them both a fresh chance at acting like a brotherly figure.

Accidents happen - While guest acting on Supernatural, things go awry filming a fight scene with Jensen.

Captions - a silly, funny one-shot (also listed above, but nothing actually happens with Dean, so you can easily read it platonically or not)

First Heat - 16yo Dean Winchester is presenting, and he's not having a fun time of it

Challenges I've done

2023 SPN AU Bingo

Whumptober 2023 - First Heat

Want to be notified when I post a fic?

Join my tag lists!

[smowkie]

finished my third bingo card from @ficreadingchallenge, woo! thanks again for such a fun challenge 💖

list of fics under the cut

1 pets

like a boat at sea by coffinbirth

Will & his dogs, Hannibal, 926 w, rated teen

summary:

“It’s all right, Harley,” Will murmurs, as the dog peers up at him intently from beneath her heavy brow. “I’m all right. We got all we need, don’t we? Just us.”

2 under the influence

Pass the Kanar by Fanfic_For_The_Void

Garashir, DS9, 6,592 w, rated teen

summary:

After a long day at work, Julian shares a deeply discounted bottle of Kanar with Garak.

3 secret identity

Iron Man: Unavailable, Tony Stark: In Trouble by navaan

Stony, MCU, 40,779 w, rated teen

summary:

After what happened in New York the Avengers with the help of Tony Stark are trying to become more independent. The team has grown together and for Steve Iron Man is a big part of that, although he has some trouble getting along with his employer. Then Steve faces a bit of a mystery when Tony Stark gets kidnapped – and Iron Man, who is supposed to be the man's bodyguard when he's not an Avenger, is nowhere to be found.

4 author's oldest fic

A Friend in Need by AuroraNova

Julian & Jadzia, DS9, 1,833 w, rating teen

summary:

“Drinking alone isn’t any fun.”

5 new author (< 1 year)

Late One Night by uv_DatLakeLady

Sam & Dean, SPN, 666 words, rated gen

summary:

Sam and Dean have a silly chat on a serious matter, while grave-digging.

6 angst

Far From Home by cucumbermoon

Garashir, DS9, 47,041 k, rated teen

summary:

Julian had always longed for adventure. More than that, he’d longed for a desperate adventure, the kind where all the odds were stacked against you, and every step was a struggle, and every breath a victory. He probably would have come to Cardassia even if he hadn’t missed Garak. He hoped that was true. He couldn’t touch it, really, couldn’t scrape the dust away from his thoughts enough to name it, but Garak was different.

7 future AU

call me by the old familiar name by simplyprologue

Garashir, DS9, 40,359 w, rated mature

summary:

Fourteen years after the end of the Dominion War, Bajor and Cardassia are finally poised to enter the United Federation of Planets, together. But when Castellan Garak and Military Minister Kira find the body of Julian Bashir—with a heavily encrypted datarod containing the last fifty years of covert operations by Section 31 in his hand—on the eve of the treaty signing on Deep Space Nine, negotiations fall apart. There is some nuance to it, of course, but what is nuance when your friend’s dead body has been found in a stasis container in Cargo Bay Four? Or, Julian dies in the name of service to the Alpha Quadrant, but does a poor job staying dead. It does get his friends back together in one place, though.

8 secret relationship

Quintessence by mrbarbacarisi

Garashir, DS9, 11,832 w, rated teen

summary:

“So, to recap,” Garak said, “you have a stranger’s soul living inside you that could take over at any minute. It caused you to be in shock for two days, lose time, and then breakdown with a migraine less than an hour ago. And now, we may have to go all the way across the Alpha Quadrant to participate in a religious ceremony to get rid of it.” Julian laughed. “That sounds about right.”

9 holiday fic

The Best Part of Waking Up by entropic_saudade

Wincest, SPN, 799 w, rated mature

summary:

Dean is home for the holidays. Based off the infamous Folgers Christmas commercial from 2009. You know the one.

10 happy ending

Penultimate Rites by ro_moray

Garashir, DS9, 15,975 w, rated teen

summary:

Julian Bashir returns from a five-year mission in the Gamma Quadrant and is greeted by some distressing news from Cardassia Prime. Garak is dying, again—and it seems like there might not be anything he can do about it this time.

11 road trip

running into the sun by kiden

Stony, MCU, 3,267 w, rated teen

summary:

There are other people Steve could ask. Sam or Nat. Even Clint would make more sense. It's not that they aren't friends - they are, they're good friends, hard won, fought for, worked on - it's just weird. They can live together and fight together, but Tony's not so sure a few weeks with just the two of them in a car is a good idea. It's definitely not a smart idea. "Can you repeat that, please?" or: tony and steve go on a nice, soft road trip that brings them closer together.

12 bodyswap

Bodyswap by thisroadsofar (orphan_account)

Wincest, SPN, 130 w, rated mature

summary:

Shortest bodyswap fic ever, pretty sure.

free space

A Civil Death by Regann

Garashir, DS9, 13,896 w, rated teen

summary:

Coincidence brings Garak back to Deep Space Nine where Bashir is determined to save him from an ominous threat, even if he doesn't want to be saved.

13 podfic

[Podfic] Trade-offs by Philosopher_King read by DevilWithABirdDress

Garashir, DS9, ~1 min, rated gen

summary:

Julian reflects on what he has sacrificed to be with Garak.

14 lyric title - listen to the song too!

Love is a Burning Thing by Fanfic_For_The_Void

Garashir, DS9, 2,015 w, rated teen

summary:

After their first night together, Julian wants to make something special for Garak. What could go wrong?

15 werewolf AU

Kindling the Hearth by KandiSheek

Stony, MCU, 2,044 w, rated teen

summary:

Transforming on the new moon can leave werewolves pretty damn sore. Steve is no exception, despite the super soldier serum. So Tony takes it upon himself to keep his boyfriend warm, fed and happy in the aftermath.

16 hurt/comfort

End Racism in the OTW || Trust Fall by treepyful (treeperson)

Garashir, DS9, 13,089 w, rated teen

summary:

So Laurel, how did you spend your shore leave? Oh, you know, just helped hold down the CMO while his terrifying Cardassian husband stabbed him in the chest with a giant skewer – the usual. * A shuttle trip gone awry leaves Ensign Hart and Mr. Garak to tend to a gravely injured Dr. Bashir.

17 BFFs

A Body, In Parts by RocksInMyShoe

Robin & Steve (background Steddie), Stranger Things, 2,096 w, rated gen

summary:

“Hey Steve,” she starts, her eyes brightening as she wiggles her toes. “We made it.” And he sees the relief, palpable in the exhale of her breath. He gently reaches for her ankle and squeezes. He opens his mouth to answer and he- or; Glimpses of Steve (and Robin) learning how to live after the spring break of 1986.

18 vampire AU

The Cure by gladdecease

Garashir, DS9, 1,175 w, rated gen

summary:

"You have two options," the doctor said. "Well, three, but I don't approve of the third option and will probably ask you to reconsider if you choose it."

19 crossover fic

new york, new york by givebackmylifecas

Buddie, 911 & Barisi, SVU, 5,793 w, rated teen

summary:

Eddie turns to look at Buck, squished into the middle seat of the cab and smiles. On Buck’s other side, Chris is pressed to the dirty window, staring out at the city. “You okay?” Buck asks quietly. Eddie nods. “Yeah. Just wish we didn’t have to go to give witness statements on our vacation.” “I feel you,” Buck says, bumping his knee against Eddie’s. “But hey, we’ll wrap this up quickly and then we can go see the Statue of Liberty.” Buck, Eddie, and Chris take a trip to New York and accidentally become witnesses in an SVU case. Helping out the detectives leads Eddie to learn some things about himself and his relationship with Buck.

20 gen fic

One Cube, Two Cube, Red Cube, Blue Cube by Fanfic_For_The_Void

TOS, 1,272 w, rated teen

summary:

It’s lunchtime on the Enterprise, but a member of the bridge crew is missing. A little vignette about colourful food cubes, the dangers of the job, and the taste of home.

21 short fic (<1000 words)

Plant Friends (Or: Garak's Second-Favourite Lunch Companion) by ConceptaDecency

Garak & Keiko (background Garashir), DS9, 585 w, rated teen

summary:

Garak's second-favourite lunch companion grills him about the changes in his relationship with his favourite lunch companion.

22 domestic/curtain fic

Cards on the Table by fictionallemons

Wincest, SPN, 3,385 w, rated mature

summary:

After Jack leaves, it’s just the two of them left in the bunker. Dean realizes what he wants next, and decides to put all his cards on the table at last.

23 unfinished/in progress

Archimedes Snippets by AuroraNova

Garashir, DS9, 2,771 w, rated gen

summary:

Glimpses of Julian and Garak's new life on the USS Archimedes, featuring Starfleet Spouse Garak.

24 multichapter fic

The Book Club is a Lie, and Bashir, a Liar by Cosmo_is_Beink_Melon

Garashir, DS9, 21,928 w, rated teen

summary:

Julian tells a lie. It has unexpected consequences. Garak hears a lie. Lies do not bother a liar. Usually.

[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

[smellingofpoetry]

The right ones

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Mary Winchester (mentioned)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: People always leave him.

Square/s Filled: Whiskey (@spnchristmasbingo), heartbreak (TMAS Bingo - @supernatural-jackles)

Warnings: angst, fluff, Mary isn’t the mother of the year

Words count: 1018

Beta: @akshi8278 🖤

A/N:  Hi!!! I’ve been quite busy lately, and I didn’t always have the time to sit and write. So, I’m learning how to take some time just for myself and write. I guess it’s working because here I’m. The idea for this fic came out of nowhere. I was actually thinking about Bones, this other old show I loved so much. I remembered this sweet scene with Booth and Brennan, where she asked him if he needed time and space. I always loved that scene, so I decided to take that quote and see how it sounded with Supernatural. The result is not that bad if you asked me but let me know what you think. Oh, and stay tuned because a lot of new things are coming your way soon. Enjoy! 🖤

She left him, again.

She did it right before Christmas, of all time. Who does that? His mom, apparently. He sighed while letting himself slip down the floor, his back resting against the bed. His mind was still too busy reliving the argument with his mom when a soft knock at the door caught his attention. Dean looked up just in time to see Y/N's head peeking inside the room. Shit, he thought when he saw her. He had totally forgotten they had plans that night.

"Hi..." She whispered, unsure.

"Oh sorry, I forgot about the movie."

"It's alright, don't worry about it," Y/N reassured him whit one of her gentle smiles. She slipped inside the room a bit more without entering properly, leaning to the door half opened. Dean watched her lingering at the entrance of his room, moving from one foot to the other. He never saw her so unsure, not around him at least.

"Did Sam tell you what happened?" He asked her, tilting his head to the side. Y/N sighed, resting her temple against the wooden door. She thought she wasn't being that obvious, but, apparently, she was wrong.

"Yeah. He also said you might need some time..." She whispered, gnawing at her lip. She glanced down, suddenly very interested in her shoes. "Do you? Need time, I mean." She asked him, peeking in his direction and catching him staring at her.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Okay."

"Okay."

Still biting her lip, Y/N glanced behind her ready to leave him alone. She was about to turn away and close the door when she stopped. Before she could even register what was happening her mouth was moving on her own accord.

"Do you need time and space?"

Dean's eyes never really left her. He saw her hesitation and when he was sure she would have left him too, she turned around catching him off guard.

"Just time..." he answered, giving her a barely there smile.

"Good, 'cause I brought the good stuff."

Y/N smiled at that, slipping inside the room, and showing him the whiskey bottle she was holding. She walked towards the bed, slid down next to him, and offered him the bottle. Dean took it and, without saying a word, took a long swig. He cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand before passing the bottle to her. Y/N took a sip of it, tasting the strong flavor of the liquor before passing it to him again. He took the bottle again without drinking this time. He leaned forward on his knees, trying to avoid her eyes, and ducking his head down she heard him sigh.

"People always leave me."

It was just a whisper and yet those few words managed to break her heart.

"Is it me?"

"Dean..."

"Am I doing something wrong?"

The moment she heard his voice quivering at the end her eyes filled with tears. Y/N leaned against him, laying her head on his shoulder while one of her arms sneaked between his in search of his hand. Against his better judgment, Dean opened his hand welcoming hers. His fingers closed around her warm skin almost afraid to see her go away too.

"Nothing's wrong with you."

"Then, why?" He whispered, leaning against her, letting his cheek rest on her forehead.

"It's not you, Dean. People leave all the time for multiple reasons."

He kept quiet, trying to process what she had just said to him. Maybe she was right; maybe it wasn't his fault. Not really anyway, even though it felt like it.

"How do I make people stay?"

Y/N swore her heart cracked a bit more for him and at that moment she knew: the world didn't deserve Dean Winchester. She let him go for a minute, turning towards him to get a better look at his face. She let her fingers travel along his stubble cheek, smiling at him.

"You don't, but that's okay. The right ones will stay by your side without you needing to ask them," she assured him, watching him leaning against her touch.

Dean swallowed hard, following the warmth of her fingers. She was about to let him go when he took hold of her hand, squeezing it between his warm ones. He leaned against the bed frame; his head turned to the side to have a better look at her features with their hands on his lap. His brow furrowed while her words echoed in his head.

The right ones will stay by your side without you needing to ask them.

"What about you?" he asked her, searching her eyes.

"What about me?"

"Do I have... I mean, are you...?" he stumbled, unsure of how to ask her.

To be honest, he wasn't even sure of what he was trying to ask her. He was just worried to see her walk away from him too. He knew that, in the worst case, he still had Sam. So, he wouldn't be completely alone, but he knew that losing Y/N too would definitely break his heart. He had already said goodbye to his mom, and he had to do it for a second time. He couldn't even say if it had hurt more now or when he was a kid, not that it mattered. And yet, if he really thought about it, he had to admit that he was somehow used to his mother's absence. The only difference was that this time was her choice to leave, which had hurt the most if he was being honest.

But with Y/N?

He wasn't used to not having her around, not speaking to her, not watching a movie with her, or simply enjoying a car ride together. And some part of him didn't even want to think how miserable his life without her in it could be.

"You're stuck with me, Winchester." she winked at him with a smile on her lips.

Dean's lips curved upward at that. He looked away, feeling his cheeks getting warmer under her gaze.

"I like the sound of that," he whispered, and his heart felt less heavy.

[imagineteamfreewill]

A Collapsible Crutch Christmas

Title: A Collapsible Crutch Christmas

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Canonical violence, broken bone and pain from moving a broken bone, vomiting, passing out, mentions of splinting a broken bone, snowstorm, angst with a fluffy ending

Square/Trope Filled: Blizzard (SPN Christmas Bingo) and Rescue Mission (25 Days of Tropes)

Summary: On a solo hunt, you find yourself not only nursing a major injury, but snowed into a cabin on Christmas.

A/N: This is a submission for the 2022 SPN Christmas Bingo (@spnchristmasbingo​)and fulfills a trope on my 25 Days of Tropes list! It is more angsty than my other Christmas fics, but I hope you all enjoy (even though it’s after the holidays). Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

25 Days of Tropes Masterlist

Highway 75 twisted through miles of deep forest, making it and the cabins nearby a picturesque location for honeymooning couples, college students on summer road trips, and families looking to unplug. It also made it perfect for wendigos and a handful of other creatures that liked to prey on the unsuspecting.

Snow crunched underneath your boots as you trekked away from the highway, heading for the log cabin you knew was a few miles in. The public trails all led in the opposite direction, but this was the shortest route and it would give you a chance to check out the area without worrying about civilians. Your backpack was full of nonperishable food and extra layers of clothing, along with your usual hunting supplies. You knew that Sam had slipped in an extra charger for your phone, along with batteries for the flashlight, and Dean had packed an extra knife somewhere in your bag. They always worried about you, despite the fact that you’d been hunting almost as long as they had. It wasn’t your first time going on a solo case, but the eeriness of the silent, winter woods made you wish that you’d taken Dean up on his offer to come with.

Behind you, the sun had sunk low on the horizon, casting shadows that stretched far across the ground. You shivered and zipped your coat up a little further, then pulled the maglight out of your pocket. It turned on with a click that felt far louder than necessary and you looked around.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Something was wrong. You slowed, then stopped and turned in a circle, shining the flashlight in every direction. The light glanced off the trees and made the snow on the ground almost blindingly white, but there were no monsters to be seen and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You knew better, though. Your instincts were fine tuned after years of hunting, and when your gut told you something was wrong, you needed to listen.

You slipped your gun out of the thigh holster and clicked off the safety. After a moment, you began walking again, heading toward the cabin with a slightly faster pace. Your heart pounded in your chest and you stayed on high alert, all while trying not to trip over your boots or the bumpy forest floor hidden under the fresh powder. A cold wind blew through the trees, cutting through your clothing like a knife and making you curse under your breath. The first thing you’d have to do once you got to the cabin is start a fire to warm up, then eat. Your stomach had been growling ever since you’d parked in the public lot near the trailheads.

When the cabin was finally visible in the distance, you relaxed a little. As soon as you did, however, something grabbed your pack and yanked you backwards, sending you flying to the ground. Your flashlight flew out of your hand, its beam shining off to your right. You yelped, then lifted your gun and fired off two shots at the hulking beast above you. Its pale limbs blended into the snowy landscape, and it was only the weak light from the winter sunset that allowed you to see its face. 

You’d read up on the news reports before leaving the bunker. You, Sam, and Dean had all agreed that it was a single wendigo that was taking out the hikers and photographers who’d braved the weather to take pictures of the trees covered with snow and ice. The reports had all been consistently spread out several weeks apart for over a decade, but it had been almost three months since the last one. You’d been skeptical that this was even a case worthy of your attention—after all, another hunter could have easily offed the monster without your knowledge—but Sam had been certain that the wendigo was still out there.

Now, as the monster growled at you from above, you realized that Sam had been right. The weather had been so bad that the trails had been closed for two months now, which meant that not only were you dealing with an incredibly strong wendigo, but you were dealing with a very hungry one, too. There hadn’t been anyone for it to hunt, and now you were its main target.

You cursed and righted yourself, scrambling to your feet and moving as far away from the wendigo as you could. A flare gun was in your other thigh holster and you quickly pulled it out, but before you could shoot, the creature disappeared. The woods fell deathly silent again and you tried not to breathe so loudly as you listened for any sign of the wendigo.

Slowly, you turned in a circle, surveying the quickly darkening forest. The sun was almost completely below the horizon and the flashlight had flickered off. The only light visible was the outdoor safety light by the cabin door a quarter mile away.

You stayed silent as you carefully made your way toward the cabin again, this time with your handgun in one hand and the flare gun in the other. When you were only a few hundred feet from the rickety cabin porch, the wendigo grabbed at your arm. It yanked you to the right and your handgun went flying. It discharged once, sending a bullet into a nearby tree, then disappeared in the shadows and snow. The wendigo’s claws tore through your coat like butter. Immediately, the cold slipped in through your layers and a shiver ran down your spine, but the adrenaline making your heart pound would quickly negate its effects.

You struggled against its grip. When it became clear that there would be no escaping the hungry monster’s grasp, you twisted as much as possible to get the flare gun into your dominant hand so you could shoot with better aim. It took a few tries before you were able to grab it and get your finger onto the trigger. You had one shot, and though your heart thundered in your chest and every part of your brain was screaming at you to fight and get away, you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself so you could focus. 

The trigger moved smoothly under your finger. You pulled and seconds felt like hours. You held your breath, listening as the flare lodged itself in the wendigo’s chest. It screeched and threw you away from itself, sending you flying through the air and into a fallen tree. Even over the creature’s horrific screams you heard the snap of your leg breaking upon impact. The snow did nothing to cushion your fall. You screamed too, your own cry mixing with the wendigo’s as it burned to ashes in the darkness of the forest.

All around you, the temperature continued to drop and snow began to fall. You clutched your thigh as sobs ripped through you, making your throat more and more hoarse with each passing minute. The pain shooting up your leg was unbearable every time you tried to move, and though you’d had worse injuries, you’d never had to face them alone.

Finally, rationality kicked in and you realized you had to get inside the cabin before hypothermia set in. The snow grew worse by the minute, and you vaguely remembered the radio host mentioning a blizzard coming down from the north. If you weren’t inside soon, you could freeze to death and nobody would find you for days. Getting to the cabin was your only hope of survival, no matter how painful it would be.

You groped around in the snow, digging through the heavy, wet powder until you were able to find one of the fallen tree’s branches. With the last bits of adrenaline still rushing through your veins, you pulled on it until it snapped off. It emerged from the snow with another firm tug, and then you were able to use it to push yourself up off the ground. The branch was long enough for you to use as a crutch if you hunched over. You just had to hope it would make it all the way to the cabin’s door.

The pain as you dragged yourself from where the wendigo had left you to the cabin porch was excruciating. Every survival instinct you had kicked in and you had to fight against yourself just to keep going. 

“Come on, come on, open!” you screeched. You banged on the front door with your fist, being mindful to keep your weight on your good leg and keep yourself propped against the cracked wooden doorframe. Your makeshift crutch had fallen down beside you, but you left it alone—you wouldn’t need it until you got this door open.

The door swung open into the cabin with one last heavy shove. You almost fell through into the living room when it did. Snow blew in as you stumbled inside, tripping over the threshold with a shout, and grabbed onto the back of the couch a few feet inside the door. Thankfully, you managed to avoid much impact on your broken leg, but you still had to stop for a minute and gasp for air as the snow continued to blow into the cabin from the open door behind you. Black spots danced in your vision as you held onto the couch with a white-knuckled grip, trying to catch your breath.

When you finally managed to summon the energy to stand upright again, you pivoted on one foot to reach back and grab the makeshift crutch you’d left on the porch. You shook off the snow before pulling it inside, then locked the door and hobbled around to the front of the couch, using the crutch to support you most of the way. The fireplace was barren, not even ashes had been left behind by the previous occupants, but you were able to lower yourself to the floor between it and the couch. A stack of locks had been pushed up against the wall and you sent your silent thanks to whoever had had the forethought to stock it for the next guest.

Slowly but surely, the warmth of the fire filled the cabin, and the light from the flames allowed you to get a better look around. The lamp nearby hadn’t turned on when you’d tried, leaving you to believe that either the power had gone out or there was a problem with the generator. Either way, you weren’t in any shape to investigate, so the fire would have to do.

Your energy was slowly being sapped away by all the movement, but you needed to splint your leg and figure out if there was anything other triaging you could do before you passed out. After taking a few deep breaths, you braced yourself with one hand on the couch cushions and pushed yourself up. You wobbled on your good leg for a second, then grabbed your crutch and headed for the bathroom you’d noticed on your way in. A first aid kit had been wedged in the cabinet under the sink, and with it safely in hand, you limped back to your spot on the floor.

You collapsed onto the now snow-soaked rug, heaving as bile rose up in your throat. The pain worsened with every movement you made, and having to get up to get the first aid kit had taken an extreme toll on you.

Over the next few hours, you drifted in and out of consciousness as you put your leg into a splint and tried to fix your injuries as best as you could until you could call for help. The blizzard raged outside, and each time you came to, you stoked the fire, threw up beside you, and tried to triage as best as you could before passing out again. At some point, you managed to peel off the holsters on both legs, lamenting the loss of your weapons. You hoped that they wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.

A gust of cold wind coming in through the open door made your fire sputter, almost going out, and a shiver ran through your body before you could stop it. You groaned at the sharp knife of pain that went up your leg, then your hip and back.

“Shit! Sam, she’s hurt!”

Dean’s voice made you open your eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of his face as he hovered over you. He cupped your cheek in his hand but you whined and shied away at the chill of his gloves met your heated skin.

“How long has she been here?” Sam asked.

The door slammed closed and the howling of the blizzard grew muffled again. Beside you, there was a heavy thud. The wood floor of the cabin shook beneath you as Sam and Dean hurried around. Someone shifted your leg on the rug and you cried out. Your eyes flew open and Dean was immediately above you, his eyes frantically trying to meet yours. He grabbed your hands before you could do any harm to him or Sam.

“Hey, hey, Y/N. Hey, sweetheart. It’s okay. We’re just fixing your splint a little bit and tryin’ to figure out what happened. Can you talk to me?” 

You recognized that tone of voice—Dean was panicking, but he was trying not to show it. Something inside of you reminded you that he was mostly panicking because he didn’t know what had happened and that the wendigo was really gone. His anxiety wasn’t a sign that your leg was worse than you’d originally diagnosed.

It took you a moment, but you managed to croak out an answer. “It threw me,” you rasped. You licked your lips and swallowed against the sandpaper feeling in your mouth. “But it’s dead.”

He nodded and forced a small smile. His eyes were glossy, and in your pain-riddled mind, you knew that you didn’t want him to be.

“I’m okay,” you told him, and you tried to force a smile as well, but in reality, it was probably more of a weak grimace. “I think it’s just broken.”

Dean nodded again. “Okay. Okay. Sam’s gonna check it out. Did you take any painkillers?”

When you shook your head, he looked over his shoulder, then reached out and took the white bottle from his brother. With one hand, you tried to sit up without jostling your leg too much, but after throwing up so many times from the pain and the injury itself, you were weak. Dean noticed immediately, of course, and quickly ditched the bottle of pills to help you.

“Water?” you asked.

Sam was there immediately, holding out a bottle for you. You took it and he went back to searching through the first aid kit. Dean shook out a couple pills and passed them to you once you had the cap unscrewed on the bottle. You closed your eyes as you drank, panting against the open mouth of the bottle after a long drink, and when you opened them again, Dean had a bottle of whiskey in hand.

He smiled a little at your confused expression, then held up a packet of crackers you recognized from when you’d packed your bag. Behind him, Sam mumbled something and Dean shifted, moving from beside you to sit behind you so you could lean against his chest. He pulled you back against him and situated his legs on either side of you.

“Sam’s gonna fix your splint a little bit more so that when we travel back to the road, it’s a bit easier for you. Take a drink,” he instructed. 

You took the whiskey when he held it out to you from behind, lifting it to your lips and taking a long swig. The drink burned on the way down and you winced, shuddering slightly, and Dean chuckled. You felt it against your back when his chest rumbled with laughter. Relief flooded you when the realization hit you that things would be okay now. Sam and Dean were here—you weren’t alone.

Dean rubbed his hand over the thigh on your good leg and you leaned back against him a little more, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. You closed your eyes, wincing and grunting as Sam adjusted the split. Dean’s other hand found yours and you squeezed it hard.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

You nodded. “Mmhmm. Keep talking?”

“We hadn’t heard from you, so we came looking.”

“In the—” You hissed in pain, your whole body tensing and your hand squeezing Dean’s even harder as Sam profusely apologized from where he bent over your injured leg. “In the middle of a blizzard?”

“It’s not so bad now,” Dean said. His voice was soft and low in your ear, and he paused to kiss the side of your head. “We borrowed some snowmobiles from the ranger station a few miles away. I’m surprised none of them came out here to check the cabins.”

You hummed, trying to focus on his voice and the warmth of the whiskey instead of the pain coursing through your body. The painkillers would be kicking in soon, but until then, you had to ignore the churning of your stomach and the pain trying to push you back into unconsciousness.

“I missed you so much. I was worried about you, and it’s Christmas Eve. We didn’t want to celebrate without you.”

If it was Christmas Eve, you’d been lying on the floor of the cabin for almost a full day. There was no light coming in from the windows of the living room; you’d been so out of it that you hadn’t even realized when the sun had been up, unless the snow from the storm had blocked it out entirely.

“It would’ve been okay,” you groaned. “We would’ve celebrated later.”

Reaching one arm around you, Dean pulled you back against him, holding you down as your reflexes tried to move you away from Sam as he worked. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as your back arched against the pain.

“No, it wouldn’t have. Last year was our first Christmas together, but we got held up with that Crowley thing, so I didn’t get to celebrate properly with you. I wanted to be with you this year. I wasn’t gonna let a little snow stop me,” he said.

You laughed, a bit of a groan slipping through as you grit your teeth together and tried to stay still. “A little snow, huh?”

“A little snow,” Dean repeated, chuckling. “He’s almost done, sweetheart, and then we’re gonna get out of here.”

Sam spoke up as he tightened the split, and you forced your eyes open to look at him.

“We can’t leave now, Dean,” Sam said, and Dean shifted behind you. “Y/N needs to rest and hydrate. She probably needs to eat something, too.”

Your stomach churned again and you swallowed down the bile. “Don’t talk about food. Please.”

As Sam worked, Dean continued to comfort you and hold you, until finally, they would be able to move you. The painkillers had kicked in and once they moved you to the queen-sized bed in the only bedroom, you were able to relax for the first time in days. You refused the crackers when your stomach flipped at the sight of them, but Dean left them within reach of your spot on the mattress in case you woke up hungry. 

Sam stoked the small fireplace opposite the bed while Dean arranged the blankets and pillows for you, and as he moved, you caught a glimpse of the time on his watch.

“Dean,” you said, grabbing his hand as it moved past. “Dean, hey.”

He paused, looking down at you. When he saw you smiling at him, he chuckled and smiled back, then took his other hand to brush the hair off your sweaty forehead.

“Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

You nodded. “I’m good. Those painkillers really helped,” you told him, laughing a little. He laughed again and carefully took a knee beside the bed so he was closer to eye level with you. “But guess what?”

“Are you going to say chicken butt again?” he asked, and you grinned a little wider.

“No. Merry Christmas.”

A little v-shaped wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows as he lifted his other hand to check his watch, and then he smiled again.

“12:03,” he read aloud. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Drowsiness was creeping up on you, aided by the warmth of the blankets and the fire, and Dean seemed to sense it. He reached out again and ran a hand over your hair. His expression softened and the firelight made his eyes sparkle a little. 

At some point, Sam had left the room, so when Dean leaned in to kiss you, you reached up to keep him close. Compared to other kisses, it didn’t even rank in terms of intensity, but you knew you’d remember this one for a long time. He braced one hand on the mattress and lifted himself up to lean just slightly over you, and you shifted to the side to kiss him better. His other hand slid up from your cheek to tangle into your hand for just a moment before he pulled away. You kept him close, one hand gripping the slightly damp fabric of his jacket. After a moment, you opened your eyes, but you had to blink a few times to focus on his face.

Dean smiled, chuckling slightly before pressing a second kiss to your forehead. “I love you. Get some rest, okay? I’ll come check on you in a few hours,” he murmured.

You whined and gripped his jacket a little tighter. “No, stay.”

He pried your fingers from the lapel. “Sam and I have a couple things to take care of. I promise I’ll be back.”

Nodding, you relaxed back against the pillows and released him fully. You kept smiling even as he exited the room, then closed your eyes. It felt like only moments had passed when you opened them again, but sunlight was peeking through from behind the curtains. The fire still crackled, though the stack of logs beside it had gone down, meaning that Dean had kept his promise to check on you throughout the night.

Groaning, you shifted yourself to sit up a little bit more in the bed. “Dean?” you called. “Sam?”

Silence answered you and panic fluttered in your chest for a brief moment. You were about to call again when the door swung open and Dean stepped inside, smiling. He quickly shut the door behind him.

“Hey, how you feelin’?” he asked.

You smiled a little, still fighting against sleep, and yawned. “Still not great, but better than before. Are we going home today?”

He nodded and came toward the bed. “Hospital first, then home, but uh… There’s something else we have to do first.”

Smile fading, you helped Dean move the blankets off your legs, then accepted the water bottle and pills he’d set out on the bedside table while you’d been asleep.

“Is everything okay? Was there another disappearance?”

His eyes grew wide and he carefully pushed you down by the shoulder when you started to sit up even further. “No. Hey, no. Everything’s fine, Y/N. You got it. It’s dead. Relax for a second.”

“Then what do we have to do?”

Dean didn’t answer, but Sam knocked and stuck his head in the door. “She ready?” he asked. When Dean nodded, Sam opened the door the rest of the way and held out a pair of crutches.

You propped yourself up on both hands, looking between them with a smile. “Where did you even find those?”

They handed them off to you and Dean helped you carefully pivot on the bed, then stand, using the crutches to support your weight. Sam had fixed the splint well enough that you were able to follow the two of them out into the living room of the cabin.

“What— What is all this?”

An evergreen tree had been propped up in one corner. Pinecones and balls of tinfoil had been used in place of ornaments and there were stockings hung on the mantle of the fireplace. The fire crackled, warming the entire room and from where you stood, you could spy three bowls of soup and mugs of hot chocolate set out on the coffee table you’d originally shoved out of the way.

You laughed, at a loss for words. “What—? How?”

Dean led you over to the couch and helped you settle in the middle, smiling wide. “We brought the stockings and the presents—”

“The presents?” you asked, gaping at him.

Sam laughed and set a few wrapped packages beside you. You glanced at them, looked up at him, and then over at Dean again.

“The soup and hot chocolate was in your bag and the dishes were in the cabinets,” Sam explained. “The crutches were part of an emergency kit loaded onto the snowmobiles. They’re collapsible ones, but they’re better than that stick you had when we showed up.”

The couch dipped as Dean sat on the other side of you, and the packages slid down against your leg. He set his hand on your thigh, smiling.

“I know it’s not a real Christmas with lights and a fancy dinner, but I was thinking that it was better than nothing,” 

Smiling, you reached up to cup his face with one hand, keeping his gaze on you. “It’s perfect,” you told him. “I love it.”

You kissed him, just as gently as the night before, and brushed your thumb over his cheekbone. He squeezed your thigh in return.

Thank you for reading! <3

If you liked this story, please reblog! That is the best way to share your love for my work and to spread it so that other people can enjoy this story. If you would like to support me further, please consider supporting my writing by donating on Ko-fi, supporting me on Patreon, or commissioning a story of your own!

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[minefield-of-a-ninja]

All fics are 18+ ONLY unless otherwise noted

SERIES

*at least three parts or chapters

Combat Baby - Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle

Summary: Dean’s sweet, but Jo likes him nasty

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, canon divergent, rough sex, dirty talk, brief name-calling, exhibitionism, role play, squirting

Words: IN PROGRESS

If We Make It Through December - Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Summary: Donna is horrified to learn that the boys have never had a proper Christmas, so she invites them to her house for the holiday.

Warnings/tags: canon/divergent, there was no rebar, 18+ ONLY, fluff, light angst, domesticity, holiday celebrations

Words: IN PROGRESS

The Mud On Your Boots - Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Summary: Dean and Donna finally give in.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, canon divergent, dirty talk, fluff, consent is sexy, period sex, fisting, blood as lube, shower sex

Words: IN PROGRESS

Temporary Scars - Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum x Benny Lafitte

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, angst, Donna has intimacy issues, Dean’s the sweetest, self-sabotage, sort of established relationship, Benny’s swoony as fuck, Dean’s in love, tags on each part

Word: IN PROGRESS

Where Is My Shiny Gun? -  Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum (voyeur Sam Winchester)

Summary: Sam finds himself in a quandary when he realizes he has feelings for Donna by way of the obvious mutual attraction between her and Dean.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, canon divergent, Sam is kinky, Dean is adorable, so is Donna, Dean likes to give Donna massages, Sam directing while masturbating, brief spanking + breast slapping, brief knife play - no blood

Word Count: 7785

ONE-SHOTS

*one and done, usually 2k or more

Bad Girls Underneath -  Ruby 2.0 x Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle

Summary: Ruby and Jojo get hit by sex pollen, again, but this time, they need Dean's help.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, magical dick/male gaze bullshit, probably too much commentary and emotional complication, why am I like this, I’m sorry, sometimes I can’t help myself, fisting, brief choking

Words: 2,600

Cactus - Dean Winchester x Meg Masters x Castiel

Summary: Post-battle, exhausted and wanting, Dean and Meg and Cas take care of each other.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, rimming, choking, dreamlike sex, Dean’s always hungry

Words: 3,200

Moving Furniture - Steve!Cas x Meg Masters 2.0

Summary: She’s been gone for a year – sacrificed herself to save Sam and her unicorn – but Cas still dreams about her.

Warnings/tags: non-explicit dream sex, fluff, shmoop, there’s a dog

Words: 2K

Summary: During a pit stop for gas and snacks, Meg promises to keep an eye on Emmanuel while Dean does his shopping.

Warnings/tags: mature, Meg shenanigans, coming while clothed

Smokestack Lighting - Sam Winchester x Rowena Macleod

Summary: It’s been a long time coming, and the dam finally breaks.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, height difference, sex magic

Words: 2200

FLASHFIC

*random ideas, prompts, challenges, usually less than 1k

Because You’re Worth It - Sam Winchester x Rowena Macleod

Prompt: Sam Winchester ends up with his hair cut shorter than it has ever been.

Warnings/tags: crack-ish, mature, fluff, Dean being insensitive about Sam’s glorious mane, Rowena saving the day

Words: 790

Being Human - Castiel + Dean Winchester

Summary: Cas gives Dean a break.

Tags: Dean and Cas being Dean and Cas.

Words: 555

Carrion - Ruby 2.0 x Sam Winchester

Summary: While Sam sleeps, Ruby plays.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, dark contemplation, somnophilia

Words: 340

Celibacy, Interrupted - Jody Mills x Sam Winchester

SPN Kink Bingo Square Filled: Facials

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, blow job, sam has no refractory period bc this is fic

Word Count: 570

Fifth Base - Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Rowena MacLeod

Prompt: surly, scruffy Dean — maybe trying to get back to business after a wild night? But the aches and panties in his pocket keep distracting him?

Tags: snarky, hungover Dean

Words: 470

Foxholes - Annie Hawkins x Bobby Singer/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

Summary: Annie recalls time spent with each man and what their facial hair told her about them.

Warnings/tags: mature language and references to sexual activity

Words: 340

If You Don’t, Dear, Confess - Sam Winchester x Rowena Macleod

Prompt: Sam has dream about being seduced by Rowena in the bunker that gets interrupted/woken by Dean?

Warnings/tags: mature

Words: 620

I’ll Keep Them Still - Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle

Summary: Dean remembers promises and pictures in his mind. And he remembers her.

Warnings/tags: mature, songfic, angst, dream/afterlife sequences, purple prose, I’m sorry

Words: 1K

It’s Not Delivery - Sam Winchester x Rowena Macleod, Castiel x Meg (mentioned), Dean Winchester x adult female actresses in costume (in his head)

Summary: Sam wants to play D&D, Castiel is confused, Rowena is Rowena, and Dean is drunk and amused.

Notes: disappointed Sam, comforting Rowena, mischievous Meg, Dean likes porn, and pizza, and whiskey, one F-bomb

Words: 435

I Know All Your Graces - Donna Hanscum x female reader, mentions of Dean Winchester x Donna + reader

Prompt: Donna x fem!reader with the line “that sounded a lot better in my head” please?

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, fisting, breast play

Words: 600

Magic Sex & French Fries - Jo Harvelle x Ruby 2.0

Prompt: Great Big Lesbian prompt: SPN, Jo and Ruby II have to have sex to save the world. Or something. Sex pollen? I don’t care. 😘

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, sex pollen, fisting, confuzzled boys

Words: 1K

Meanwhile… - Sam Winchester x Jody Mills

Prompt: I don’t even remember your rules, but listen Sam and Jody hooked up while Dean was banging the porn star.

Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY

Words: 500

Not Fade Away - Emmanuel!Cas x Meg Masters

Summary: During a pit stop for gas and snacks, Meg promises to keep an eye on Emmanuel while Dean does his shopping.

Warnings/tags: mature, Meg shenanigans, coming while clothed

Words: 350

On Your Six - AU Dean Winchester + his 11yo daughter

Prompt: Write something fluffy with NO smut or angst! So sickeningly sweet that our teeth fall out 🤪😘

Tags: Dean is basically my dad lol

Words: 480

The Prerogative To Have A Little Fun - Donna x Jody, Donna x Jody x Sam + Dean (kinda)

Prompt: Donna’s visiting Jody for the weekend and the boys swing by on their home from a hunt. Dean mows the lawn, Sam fixes a leaky showerhead, Dean makes dinner, and they both do the dishes. Meanwhile, the ladies sit back and enjoy the domestic display. Really, really enjoy. In fact, once the boys drive off to head home, they decide to help each other work out their frustrations. 😉

Warnings/tags: mature, men doing manly things, inspired by Shania Twain’s song “Man! I Feel Like A Woman”, voyeurism

Words: 1K

Reciprocus - weechesters then bigchesters, John  Winchester, female character

Prompt: “I wasn’t supposed to have favorites.”

Notes: angst

Words: 950

Samwena - Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Rowena Macleod, and a very fluffy puppy

Prompt: I want some snarky Rowena and petulant Sam and just fuck me up however you see fit.

Tags: 1st person Dean POV

Words: 780

Soft Cell - Dean Winchester + teenaged female character

Prompt: Dean x reader dancing in the bunker

Tags: one F-bomb

Words: 720

Till The Clock Struck On The Twelve - Jo Harvelle x Ruby 2.0

Summary: Jo and Ruby hit the town. Ruby dons a necktie and insists on being called Daddy for the night.

Warnings/tags: mature, purple prose, male gaze forbidden, Daddy Kink

Words: 325

Virtues - Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Rowena Macleod, Castiel

Prompt(s): 1) "Have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?" 2) "Oh, what a beautiful bloodbath." "Don't forget the glitter!" 3) "Patience is a virtue." "Not right now, it isn’t!"

Warnings/Tags: couple of f-bombs, weechesters

Words: 970

We Shall Go Until We Die - Bela Talbot

Summary: A letter to Sam and Dean.

Tags: I liked Bela.

Words: 225

Whiskey, Leather, and Lace - Arthur Ketch x female reader

Summary: She doesn’t love him.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, bondage, panty gag, orgasm control

Words: 400

You Want It, You’re Wanted - Sam Winchester x Gabriel

Summary: Mutual gratification is the name of the game.

Warnings/tags: mature, Wartenberg wheel, tiny bit of blood

Words: 320

[deanwinchesterswitch]

Update

Those reading this series probably know that each chapter is a square prompt from my SPN Christmas Bingo card. While I did not complete the entire series and fill my card by the deadline of January 31😫😫😫, I did fill more squares than I ever have during a bingo. I'm proud of myself for that, at least.😆

Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I intend to finish the series even though we are way past Christmas and will now be past the bingo deadline.

I'm still just as excited about this story as I was at the beginning. I hope you'll bear with me and come along for the ride to see where the road takes Nic and Dean on their journey to a Christmas remade that's fitting of their love for each other.🤗💜🤗

The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas master post

Love Me Some Pie tag list:

@akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deaneverafter // @deans-spinster-witch // @deanwanddamons // @flamencodiva // @idreamofplaid // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @justrealizedimmascifygurl // @ladysparkles78 // @michellethetvaddict // @mvdeanw // @shawnie74 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix // @princessmisery666