#@supernaturalmagicfolk

[fallenangelspnfanfic]

Wayward Huntress: Chapter 11

Summary : Shit hit the fan. You’re in Hell being the prisoner of a prisoner, Lucifer. 

Warnings : Language, Blood, Pain, Suffering

-Y/N, my dearest Y/N, would you like to see your little boyfriend of yours get his fingers cut one by one again?

*Pffffttt*

You spat blood in the face of the speaker who sat in front of you. He blinked and kept his eyes closed while he swiped the mix of your saliva and blood away from his face with his thumb.

-I gotta give you that, little Y/N....  the demon that held the chains that were attached to your wrists gave you another powerful kick in the guts that took your breath away. He then, grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled them so you would be forced to look up.

-You're really strong headed.... the blonde man licked your spat off his thumb while you frowned at him with disgust. Which is going to be a great asset... Once you let me finish what I started!

You faintly mumbled something through your swollen lips, you were so weak but you wouldn't give up. You could not give up. Not to him.

-Uhhh... Excuse me? Can you repeat that?

You lower your head for an instant as you try to hide the pain that was drawn all over your face but the demon behind you once again pulled your hair off your scalp with force.

-I said.... EAT. ME. DICK. HEAD. you hissed as loud as your broken ribs could let you as you deadly stared at Lucifer, who ironically, was a prisoner of his own too, a rusty metal necklace hung around his neck as he was stuck on his chair.

The demon behind you pulled swiftly on your chains as if to shut you up from disrespecting his master. You flinched, your wrists were probably infected since the metal was rubbing directly against your flesh, they were swollen, red and full of bloody crusts.

-Master, Crowley is on his way.  another demon claimed as he entered the room in panic, his facial expression clearly demonstrated how he was apprehending Lucifer's reaction over his sudden arrival. You, on the other hand, sighed in exasperation because you knew what was next to come.

*sigh*

Lucifer exaggerated his frustration as he glared the intruder with deathfull eyes.

-Alrighty then.

A couple seconds passed as both demons and you stared at Lucifer who rolled his eyes in annoyance when he noted no one was moving.

-What are you waiting for, you idiots! Gag her and bring her back to the cage!

In a instant, the both demons pulled vigorously on the metal links that were attached to your wrists, not even letting you time to crawl to follow them,  they just trailed you on the cold concrete floor as you held back cries of pain that were sitting in the back of your throat. The physical pain was nothing compared to what was next to come and you were dreading it.

-See you in a bit, cutie pie! Lucifer cooed as he tried to wave his hand to you, his own chains restraining his arms from moving.  I'll make sure to bring Cassie with me, alright!? Lucifer continued with a playful tone as the door was closed shut behind you.

-NO! PLEASE.  NO, PLEASE I BEG YOU! you screamed as loud as you could while you were still getting trailed down to your own prison.

-Heyyy guys? Why do I still hear this little mouse crying, I thought I ordered you to GAG HER.

You heard the Devil shouts through the metal door and both of your guards winced under his tone. One of the metal chain hit the floor as the tingle echoed in the dungeon and a moment after one of the demon appeared in your face.

-Don't touch me, you black eyed sons of a bitch or I swear- the demon laughed frantically before you could even finish your sentence.

-Yeah yeah, we know. You'll be the last thing we'll ever see. Whatchu gonna do, princess?  he bent down to be at your height and waved a hand in front of your face. Your mouth was instantly stitched closed and you could feel the cords painfully pulling on your lips as you tried to mumble something.

At that point, you gave up. You let them trailing you down to the cage without a single fight, your stomach threatening to spill itself even if it was totally empty as you feared the next few hours, days, months that were to come in the cage, stuck with Lucifer in your own imagination. You closed your eyes and wished for your body to let you rest in peace, you wanted your own body to give up and to stop struggling to stay alive. You wanted to die. Except in your case, dying wasn't the solution. If you die, Lucifer would bring you back. You died again? Lucifer brought you back again. You stopped counting how many times you've died since you've got here.

When you opened your eyes, you already were in the cage, alone. For now. You must've passed out in between, you were getting used to passing out here and there now. The human body can only endure so much before fainting. A little too much to your own taste.

-Y/N??

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard your angel's alarmed voice echoing through the emptiness of the dungeon.

Oh no, no. No please, not this again.  

-Y/N!  you felt your eyes filling with water as you watched Castiel running towards the cage, his unbuttoned trench coat floating to his sides. You knew this was only another of Lucifer's scheme to force you to give up to him.

I know it's you, Lucifer. Fuck you.

-Blossom, I... the cage's door opened magically as the angel stepped to get closer to you. He looked so real, you only wanted so much to throw yourself in his arms and rejoice yourself of his presence. He kneeled down next to you and peered right in your eyes, his ocean blue eyes were so realistic.

-I've been looking for you everywhere, I missed you so mu-

GRRRRRRWWWHH

You just had time to close your eyes as a vivid hellhound jumped and assaulted Castiel out of nowhere. You flinched every time you heard the angel that you love crying for help as he was being eaten alive right in front of you. You sobbed and brought your knees up to your face with your arms around your legs to keep your legs as close as possible to you. You couldn't stop crying while rocking yourself frantically forward and backwards waiting for the hallucinations to fade away....

-------

3 months earlier, somewhere in Indianapolis

-We told you to stay back, Y/N! Dean furiously punched the motel's frame door and Castiel instinctively stepped in front of you as if to shield you from Dean's tempered reaction.

-You can't expect me to stand aside from that, Dean Winchester! I'm a hunter of my own, for fuck's sakes! you countered the angel's frame to get a better glimpse of the eldest Winchester.

Sam who looked as furious as his brother took a deep breath before joining in the fight.

-Guys, we need to act fast now. It's our only chance to trap Lucifer. We can't screw this up. So both of you, shut up. NOW. Sam snapped as he pointed to the both of you. Y/N, Dean is right. This is absurdly stupid to come here when we agreed you should stay back! You're putting yourself in danger. In fact, we don't even know what kind of power Lucifer has on you. You could be putting us all in danger!

Sam's reaction hit you right in the guts since he's the most reasonable person you know. You peered at your side to see Cas apologetic smile as silently agreed with his friends. You knew you shouldn't be there but you couldn't stand the idea of letting your bestfriends facing Lucifer alone. If something was to happen to them while you weren't there you would never forgive yourself.

-I bet you would've stayed if he weren't coming with us, huh Y/N?  Dean mumbled as he passed next to you.

-Dean... Castiel deeply warned. Now, isn't the right time to-

-What did you say? you growled, your ears twitched when you finally understood Dean's remark.

-I said: maybe if his angelic ass would've stayed at the bunker you wouldn't be costing us so much right now!   

-You, little shit! SHUT YOUR MOUTH! you were about to throw yourself on Dean when Castiel stopped you from getting further, his grip held you in place even though you craved to slap Dean's face so much.  

-Crowley haven't mention me that the huntress had a wee problem with her temper, how saddening. Rowena chuckled as all of your heads flew in her direction.

-Rowena, now's not the time.  Sam warned as he regained his composure. He stepped towards Kelly who just sat there, on the bed, an expression of fear and confusion stuck on her face.

While Sam and Castiel took charge of her as they tried to convince her they were being genuine, you had an internal fight with yourself. Even though they were being real jerks about it, the brothers were right and you had to leave, being here was not just putting yourself in danger but also meant that everyone else could be in danger, well even more in danger than they already were. You had no idea if Lucifer could have some kind of hold on you.  

You approached Dean who stared through the window with a murderous look.

-I'm leaving. Call me if anything.

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

Everytime he cried for your assistance, your heart ached and your stomach twisted so hard you were on the verge of barfing. You sighed in relief as the last version of Castiel's dismembered corpse was finally fading away.

It must have been the 100th version of Castiel's death you've witnessed today. Every single one of them seemed more real than the previous one.

Lucifer was relentless, you couldn't catch a break. He was playing with your mind armed with your biggest weakness.

-Y/N.

Your eyes flashed opened as Castiel's stiff voice echoed through the cage. For the first time yet, Castiel sounded angry rather than relieved, his eyes showed no trace of affection, they were filled with rage and hatred.

-The plan failed because of you. Lucifer is still free and it's all because of your stubbornness.

The bonds that held your lips sealed suddenly disappeared and allowed you to speak your mind.

-Wh-What? You scoffed. What is it this time, Lucifer? Huh? New game?

-Lucifer? Castiel spat. You're delirious. Look around you. Lucifer is gone. All that's left is the cold bodies of your friends, Y/N.

You took in the decor around you, you were no longer in the cage, but in that same motel room you had plan to gank Lucifer weeks ago. You followed the blood trails until your eyes found a pool of blood, where was lying Dean's lifeless body.

You brought a hand to your mouth as you silently gasped, Dean's body getting blurred as your eyes filled up with tears.

-It's all your fault. Dean is dead because of you.

-It's not real. you closed your eyes as you shook your head. It's all in my head.

-W-we told you to stay away, Y/N.

Your heart pinched as you recognized Sam's weak voice. He was laying on the ground in between the two motel beds and from the blood that was running out of his mouth, he was agonizing.

-I wish we've never met you.

Your eyes landed over Castiel who was staring at Dean's body, his coat smeared with blood. He finally teared his eyes away from him and glared at you, his piercing blue eyes showed revulsion.

- You caused this atrocity...

No...

- I've never hated a human that much before... You've killed my family.

This isn't what happened...

-I hate you, Y/N.

You fell down to your knees as Castiel's hatred words hit you like a wave.

It's a trick...

-I've never loved you, anyways.

You closed your eyes as you were trying to keep a steady breath but there was a ball of energy growing inside you. You felt your whole body shaking as you kept telling yourself that all this was only Lucifer playing with your mind, your soul ignited with pure rage.

- You. Killed. Them. Castiel's voice reverberated in your head.

ENOUGH

You opened your eyes and you were shrouded in the darkness once again. You felt the coldness of the metal bars pressed in your back, you were back in Hell, in the cage.

But how the tables have turned... You've never felt this energized and powerful in all your life.

Time to get the fuck out of here.

[just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms]

Time to rejoin the family

Due to a litany of personal shit hitting all at once about two years ago I took a serious step back from tumblr and this blog in particular

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[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Discipline

Title: Discipline

Pairing: Sam x Reader Drabble

Word Count: 845

Summary: After flirting with a suspect to gain information against Sam’s orders, she must suffer the consequences.

Warning: Smut (but not really), Spanking (of a slightly different kind), Implied sex, Rough!Sam.

A/N: I did say that I wanted to get out of my comfort zone, so I think this is stepping out. I hope you guys fancy this drabble, because in my opinion (or maybe I’m biased), I think it’s pretty hot. Not gonna lie, this is tiny kink of mine, just not as extreme! Well, happy reading!

You had been a really bad girl today. Sam had told you not to flirt with the suspect, but the two of you were getting nowhere fast, so you used the tactic that was usually saved as a last resort, which this was. And now you were going to suffer the consequences, or rather… enjoy the consequences… very much.

“Strip, now!” Sam growled, shoving you through the motel door. You obeyed his orders without hesitation, quickly shedding the tight pencil skirt clinging around your hips and thighs, the white top that seemed to be a size too small, all the while kicking off your black pumps.

Before you could reach for your matching lace underwear, Sam lifted you like a sack of potatoes, tossing you onto the bed as if you weighed nothing. You bounced ungracefully, unable to compose yourself before Sam was on you, ripping your bra and panties in half, and discarding the pieces in different areas of the room.

“You’re taking too fucking long.” His voice was deep and laced with danger, it made your pussy quiver.

You watched as he sat against the headboard, assuming his position. You bit your bottom lip knowing what kind of punishment he was going to bestow on you, and that the thought made you even more wet. He was going to spank you. But the thing with Sam, he no longer spanked your ass… he—

“Hurry it up,” he barked.

As fast as possible, you took your spot on his lap, back pressing against his covered chest. Even through the dress shirt he wore, you could feel the ripples of strong muscles that he’d accumulated through hunting and training.

Sam repositioned you on his lap, using his bended knees to spread you open wide, each of your leg on the outside of his. Your breath hitched as you looked down at your cunt glistening with your waiting arousal.

“Would you look at that,” he started, hot breath fanning against your ear and neck. “Already so wet for me.” You felt his chin rest on your shoulders, his eyes absorbing the sight before him. And with you being much smaller than him, he had the best view of your sweet cunt. Your body went still with anticipation when his hands slithered down to your core. One hand opening your folds, while the other traced your entrance with it’s middle finger, neglecting your sensitive nub.

“How many spanks do you deserve, hmm?” His voice was sultry, making your pussy throb. It wasn’t meant as a question for you, more of him thinking out loud. “Your skirt was too short and too tight, just like your top, and you flirted with the suspect even after I ordered you not to. I’m thinking twenty.”

You gasped at the amount. He’d never surpassed ten, considering his spanks were heavy and hard, but still, electricity shot down south at the thought.

“Yeah, I think this time you need a little more discipline.”

And without warning… SMACK!

You yelped loudly, your legs instinctively trying to close, but Sam’s legs kept you wide open. “Count for me,” his voice seemed to get lower.

“One…” you breathed, trying to prepare for the next hit.

SMACK!

“T-two,” it came out breathless, your pussy beginning to pulse.

The impact was hard as usual and unrelenting. By the time the number twelve slipped your mouth, tears were cascading down your cheeks like a waterfall. Your pussy was red and swollen with pain, and what surprised you more, was that you were so close. The sting in your cunt bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

SMACK!

You screamed, your head pressed against his chest. “Th-thirteen,” you choked after catching your breath.

“It’s okay baby, we’re almost done,” he assured, taking your earlobe between his lips, sucking it slowly in and out of his mouth. You groaned at the sensation.

SMACK!

Your voice came out as a high screech when you shouted, legs quivering. “I—I can’t. I’m s-so close. I need to come, please,” you begged.

Sam eye brows raised at your confession. “Already? Just by spanking your pussy, you want to come? Fuck.” Sam’s hand raised up before making contact again and again. At eighteen, your body was trembling with a shocking orgasm, juices streaming down your pussy, and pulling into his dress pants, making a mess.  

Sam hit you again, your cry echoing through the motel room. You were too sensitive and unable to keep still, writhing in his lap.

“Just one more,” he reminded, his own breathing ragged. You could tell he wanted you, but he was trying to hold back.

SMACK!

“Twenty,” he finished counting for you. “Fuck, baby, look how red and juicy your little cunt looks.” His hand roamed over it, massaging the inflamed flesh. There was no way you’d be able to walk right tomorrow, let alone finish the hunt. And as if knowing what you were thinking, he spoke up. “Don’t worry, Dean’s on his way. So you’ll have time to rest up… once I’m done with you.”

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[frejahertziswritingthistime]

Blood and Dawn chapter 5

A/N: I’m so sorry for the weird posting schedule – I’m currently planning my wedding and doing my education on the side, so it’s a little messy here. Anyway, here’s the next chapter! I hope you’ll like it!

 Previous chapters: chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

 MASTERLIST

BY DAWN AND BLOOD MASTERLIST

Buy me a coffee – help me pay for my wedding!

 Pairings: Viking!Reader x Dean

Warnings: Language, sexual tension

 Close encounters

You were feeling warm, like the afternoon sun was hitting your back; despite the early hours and the harsh wind roaring around you, sea-water droplets hitting your face.

You had woken up earlier than ever, after a bunch of dreams you couldn’t quite figure out and had simply walked out of your home and straight down to the waterfront. You had been sitting there, watching the sun come up, thinking about life and your strange dreams, when a shadow hovered over you.

“Mind if I join?” it was Sam, towering over you with a gentle smile. You gestured to the sand and stared out over the water again. He was quiet for a while, simply looking over the waters with you. “I always wanted to go with my father on raids. I wanted to see more of the world, in all the forms it can take. He never allowed it.” You said quietly. He chuckled.

“The world is vast. It’s way more, than you could ever imagine.” You smiled: “I believe it is. Your world seems much bigger than mine.” You looked to Sam, who simply shrugged. “It’s different, I’ll say that much.” Silence fell over you both, while the sun rose higher on the sky. He looked to you with a soft smile.

“My brother seems to like you.” You raised your eyebrows at him: “It’s not a bad thing, it’s just weird. He… Doesn’t really trust anybody.” You nodded. “I… He is a kind man. I do not think he realizes that himself.” Sam shook his head. “Nah, he probably doesn’t. I just wanted to know…” He drew a deep breath and turned to you. He was a handsome man, even beautiful – the brothers had apparently been graced by the gods. “I need to know if we can trust you. I want to know… If… If he trusts you, that you won’t go and break him.”

“I will promise you this: if he trusts me as much as I trust him, he will never need to worry. I will protect him with my life.” Sam nodded. “I think he’d do the same for you.” He got up and brushed the sand from his pants and nodded. “You… You should go to him.”  You narrowed your eyes in confusion. Sam merely smiled and shrugged, leaving you alone with the soft glow of warmth from the rising sun.

He couldn’t mean that Dean… Felt like you? By Freyja, it seemed impossible, but you wished with every beat of your heart, that he might feel the same. You stood slowly, looking to the fjord, the gentle waves reminding you of Dean’s smile, and you made up your mind.

No one ever won a battle by standing still.

You walked with determined steps towards the hut, but were stopped dead in your tracks by Knut, who somehow materialized in front you, out of breath.

“We’re in trouble.” You glared at him. “You always are, Knut. The æsir* never smiled upon you.” You made to move past him, but his arm flew out, grabbing your chestplate. “They have sent warning. They’re… They’re coming. Now. If you get your brothers, we might have a chance. If not, we’re dead.” You sighed. “Get my father. He’ll organize. It is, after all, his andskoti*.”

You stepped away from him and turned to face him. “If you touch me again without my say so, you will lose your hand.” Knut looked startled and somewhat hurt. You left, fuming mildly. Knut had been poised to be your husband – he had tried as much as he could, at least, and your father seemed to like him enough to consider him; you never cared for him. He was a slob, and the only reason he had anything to say was because of his father, the boat-builder.

You reached the cabin, where Dean and Sam stayed and knocked gently before opening the door. Sam looked at you with raised brows and stood up. “I totally forgot I wanted to.. Uhm… Speak to the soothsayer. Yes.” He left without saying anything else. You turned to Dean, who laid in his bed, in only his pants and with a very big axe next to him – you didn’t remember giving him one. You pointed at it. “You got a weapon?” he simply nodded and sat up, his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the dark, wooden cabin.

“What can I do for you, Y/N?” He smirked. He knew what he did to you, he must know, because it ad to be witchcraft – there was no way in the world, he could make your heart race like this without knowing. “Uhm… We must fight. Again.” He nodded. “You guys never really take a break, do you?” You huffed in mirth. “I suppose not.” “You could have told us that when Sam was still here. I know my brother well enough to know when he lies.” He had stood up, inching closer to you, still with that smile plastered on his face. “I…” You didn’t know what to say. He smiled as he reached you, his body seemingly warmer than fire – you, at least, felt like you were burning. “I… Do you know what ást* is?” he raised his eyebrows in surprise and shook his head. “Find out. If you can figure out what it means, I’ll… Well, we shall see what happens then.”

You quickly stepped back and turned to leave, your hand already on the door, when his calloused hand grabbed your elbow and spun you right back to him – your chest collided with his and you were suddenly out of breath, as if you had been running a battlefield in heavy armor.

“I think I can guess.” He whispered. His breath smelled like honey.

You never got a chance to respond, before his lips descended on you – a warmth, you had never felt, spread throughout your body and settled in between your legs, curling and heating like you had never felt before. His arms were around your waist, and you realized you hadn’t moved; you closed your eyes and wrapped your hand in his hair, sliding your tongue over his full lips, begging silently for entrance. He growled slightly when you tugged his hair, and you couldn’t help but grin against his lips. You jumped, without warning, and prayed to the gods, he would catch you – he did without hesitation, and you wrapped your legs around him while your tongue wrestled his for domination.

You both fell down on the bed, you on top of him and you were panting – you could feel his hard cock pressing against your heat. You gently kissed him once more and sat up straight.

“Though I enjoy this, we do have a battle to prepare for.” He chuckled and kissed your hand. “So what did the word mean?” He asked in a whisper.

You got out of the bed, and smiled at him.

“Love.”

 *Æsir: Gods  *Andskoti: Enemy *ást: Affectionational love

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[winsister91]

No Words

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 250~

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, are these even warnings?

A/N: These GIFs were haunting me, and this was me trying to defeat them. It didn’t work. @sofreddie had also previously challenged me to write something with zero dialogue, so does this count? Thanks to @sofreddie again for getting me writing, this sparked an all-out attack of her sending me GIFs and me drabbling instantly to them. So expect more drabbles over the next few days.

My Masterlist!

~ Dean and forever tags are open! ~

Your eyes flit open slowly, the sound of the DVD menu’s music looping endlessly. Your body was stiff, aching from not sleeping on an actual bed. It wasn't the aches that woke you, nor the repetitive thirty-second loop of music. It was the sudden warmth that spread across your forehead, the small peck of puckered lips and Dean's arm squeezing around your shoulders. You were watching a film last night with your friend. Best friend of years. Dean. It was like he had Sam attached to one hip and you the other. You were always with the brothers, but Dean most of all. Long drives in Baby. Games of pool at bars. Staring over a pretty landscape, shooting the shit and drinking beer. You loved him, he loved you, yet neither of you had ever dared stepping over that final line. Until you both awake after falling asleep during a movie on the couch together...

Looking up, you watched as his head drew back and his green eyes looked down into yours. You were both groggy from sleep. Almost like in a trance as you looked at each other while slowly waking. Your eyes drop to his lips, slightly agape and a shaky breath shuddering through them. You meet his gaze again, and with no words spoken, you reach up and tentatively kiss him. It's short, like asking permission, and after a moment of silently looking into each other's eyes, your lips meet again. Deeper. Again. Longer. Once more. Clutching and humming into each other's kiss. No words were needed.

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[redlipstickandthewinchesters]

Let You Be Right

Summary: Dean and the reader are arguing after a bad hunt. Loosely based on Let you be Right by Meghan Trainor. 

Word Count: 748

Pairings: Dean x Reader 

Warnings: Childish behavior (if that’s even a warning) 

You were currently driving through Texas, you didn’t know if it was the heat, driving, or being around each other too long. But you and Dean were arguing like cats and dogs. It started over what you wanted to play on the radio, then it was where to stop to eat, and then where to stop for gas. You knew there was a reason why Dean kept picking fights with you but he wouldn’t say it out loud.

You weren't in the mood for fighting so you finally blurt it out, “What is your problem Dean?”

He was taken back by the sudden question, “The way you handled that Vamp hunt, you could have gotten us killed.”

You scoffed, “But we’re still alive aren’t we?”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Listen, it was a rookie move and you know it. You walked in there with your head held so high that you didn’t think they could have been waiting for us in there.”

You looked at him sternly, “So I’m bad at my job now? As far as I am concerned I saved your ass in there. You had three of them on you and who was the one that knocked the heads off of those pricks. Oh that’s right, me.”

Dean looked right back at you clearly irritated, “I never said you were bad at your job (Y/N). You are a great hunter but what the hell were you thinking?”

You rolled your head back and laughed, “You can try to make me feel bad all you want Dean, but it’s not going to work. So please back the fuck off.”

It was dead quiet in the car and you knew Dean was pissed so you both just kept your eyes on the road. Dean pulled off the next exit and drove towards the nearest gas station. You were beyond irritated at the man next to you and when he finally parked you jumped out of the car. You decided to be nice and ask Dean if he wanted anything from inside.

“Do you want anything from inside?”

He gave no answer, so you asked again. “Dean do you want anything from inside?”

Still no answer, Dean just walked over to the passenger side and started to pump the gas. The fucking asshole was ignoring you. Rolling your eyes you went inside, going down the snack aisle you picked out a few of your favorites. Then you walked over to the drinks and pulled out something for yourself and then a six pack for Dean. Paying for your things you went back outside. Dean was waiting for you inside the car, sitting back down you placed the bag in between your legs. You finally felt cooled down from your argument and decided you were going to make peace with the six pack of beer.

You reached down and pulled a beer from one of the plastic rings and handed it to Dean. When he pushed it away you started to feel bad, you sighed and gave up. He was acting super childish and you wanted your boyfriend back. You wanted to joke around with him and kiss him, but with him ignoring you that wasn’t going to happen. You were sick of arguing for the night and you decided to let him be right.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Dean didn’t respond. So you spoke a little louder, “I’m sorry Dean, you were right. I shouldn’t have gone into the nest head first.”

Dean finally looked at you, “Damn right you shouldn’t have.”

You thought he would have been a little more caring but you should have known better. He probably hated you for putting his life at risk all because your pride got the best of you. You thought you were invincible and didn’t think about the other person with you. Starting to sniffle a little bit you turned your head towards the window. What you didn’t expect was Dean’s comforting hand on your leg rubbing up and down. You turned to look at him with tears still in your eyes.

“I’m really sorry,” you said rubbing your eyes.

Dean nodded, “I know. What can we do to fix this?”

Stopping at a red light, you looked over at the man sitting next to you with red light casting over him.

You smiled, “Just kiss me you idiot.”

Dean complied immediately and placed his lips on yours. “Better now?”

You smiled again and nodded, “so much better.”

Tags: @snffbeebee @supernaturalsammy01 @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @jensenyourdeanisshowing @meganywinchester @polina-93 @supernaturalmagicfolk

[greenappleeyes]

After Byzantium plot

Chatting with @castiels-tight-grip last night when my brain got plotty. Screenshots are easier than copying it all and a hell of a lot easier than actually trying to write a legit fic. 😅😅

Though who knows? It could turn into one if people really, really want it.

When I’m explaining a plot to someone it’s always third person. I dunno why but that’s how it be. Sorry if that’s bothersome. Also I get really ramble-y so hopefully you understand what I’m trying to get at. Lol

Anyways the set up is right after last night’s episode so... spoilers. Jack is the only one that knows about the deal because the empty shadow goo-dude made it so Cas doesn’t remember the deal, right? Right, so they’re back home at the bunker and...

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[frejahertziswritingthistime]

By Dawn and Blood

A/N: I know, I know, I’ve got like 5 stories I haven’t finished, but this one has been stuck with me since… I don’t even know. I need to write it, post it and get it out of my system, so sorry! I’ll get back to the other stories slowly but surely, but for now… I need to write my damn Vikings-story!

If you want to be added to the taglist, shoot me an ask!

As always, remember feedback feeds the writer!

  Story: When Dean and Sam angers a very old witch, they get transported to a foreign land in a foreign time; now they need to find their way back to their own time, whilst Dean slowly but surely gets closer and closer to the Earls daughter, a shieldmaiden.

 MASTERLIST

BY DAWN AND BLOOD MASTERLIST

Buy me a coffee – help me pay for my wedding!

 Pairings: Viking!Reader x Dean

Warnings: language, mentions of blood, mentions of swordfighting, mentions of battle

 Chapter 1: the strangers

Sweat dripped into your eyes as you swirled around, shield stretched out before you – your braids stung, as they hit the back of your neck and your opponent, Arvid, grinned widely. He was sweating too, and blood trickled from the cut on his cheek.

“You’ve improved, Y/N Egildaugter.” You snarled but couldn’t help the smile from blooming. You let your shield down and bowed down to Arvid. “I’ve been trained well, Arvid Bardsson.” He grinned and threw his sword to the ground, quickly grabbing you and rubbing your hair harshly. “Your father will be proud to hear of his daughter, I promise you.” You grinned and walked arm in arm with Arvid through Holdgate – your home and your fathers Earldom. People greeted the two of you as you strolled through the square, the scent of burning wood and salted fish hanging in the air. As you reached the main hall, Arvid let your arm go and grabbed you by the shoulders, staring into your eyes.

“We’ll make a shieldmaiden of you yet, Y/N.” you grinned and slapped him lightly on the cheek. “Go tend to your wounds, Arvid. I’ll see you at the feast tonight.” He nodded and let you go, walking towards Helga’s hut – the old woman, who had become the town healer. You turned and went inside the main hall – the scent of wood, furs and mead hung in the air like a blanket, and your father sat on his chair, in a fevered discussion with his right-hand man, Frode. They looked aggravated and your father constantly spilled the mead from his horn. They both stopped dead in their discussion, when they saw you.

“Please, don’t stop on my account. I rather enjoy looking at my father getting a talking to.” Frode grinned widely. “You are still my favorite, dear Y/N.” your father rolled his eyes, but a smile played on his lips, ghosting over his harsh features. “My daughter, this has no bearing to you. Go wash off.” You raised your eyebrows. “It concerns me, if it concerns you, Father.” Frode looked from your father to you and laughed. “She truly is your daughter, Egil. I can see her hands itching for a fight. Let her know.” You father sighed and looked at you with wide eyes.

“We have trespassers. They won’t tell where they came from or who sent them. It is like a trick from the Gods, or the Earl of Dalby has sent them to spy on us.” You nodded solemnly. “What do they call themselves?” You asked. You father grinned. “Curious, are you my daughter? Ask them yourself. They refuse to tell any more.” You frowned. “Have you had them held?” He nodded. Frode laughed again. “You must learn the duties, daughter.” You sighed and nodded. “Alright. I’ll try, father.” You excused yourself and grabbed a shield on your way out, and slid a battleaxe into your belt before leaving the hall again, walking quickly towards the prison-hold.

You were curious. You wanted to see the world, the people, and you wanted to raid and fight; if the prisoners were from a foreign land, like your father so often talked about, they might give you your chance to go.

The wooden door was ajar, and the room inside was dark – you lit a torch on the side of the door and went to your knees. As your eyes adjusted, you couldn’t help but gasp – the men were enormous, like the tales of the frostgiants, and their garments looked foreign and weird. The slightly shorter one was glaring at you, but it looked like his eyes roamed you – he looked curious more than angry. The tallest one, whose hair hung low in his eyes, snorted and turned away.

“Hvem ar I?” you asked, your voice swallowed by the walls surrounding them. The shorter one grunted.

“Listen lady, we don’t talk whatever you are.” You frowned. “You speak the language?” you asked. Both of their eyes snapped to you. “You understand us?” You nodded. He was like a warrior. Broad and dark, and looked like he would be carrying a sword, had he not been bound in the hold. “I ask again. Who are you? Did Earl Dag of Dalby send you?” They both looked confused.

“Uhm… I’m Sam, this is Dean.” He pointed to himself and then the other man, whose eyes were still roaming you – he kept looking at your armor and corset, but his eyes mostly stood fast at your axe. “I know it’s a good axe. I got it for my nameday.” You said with a slight smile. His head whipped up and he blushed slightly. He reminded you of the young boys who had just started growing beards.

“we’re brothers. Are you… Where are we?” the taller one, Sam, asked again. You shifted your weight, so you could cross your legs and sit comfortably. They seemed somewhat sane, and you didn’t feel threatened – more curious than anything.

“I’m the Earls daughter. You are in our home, Holdgate.” The shorter one nodded. He was a pretty man – he reminded you of Bjorn, the fiercest warrior in your homestead. His eyes were curious, and he looked ready to fight, even though his hands were tied behind his back. He looked strong.

“Holdgate?” He asked. His voice sounded like honeymead, like the one your mother made when you were sick. You nodded. “Oh, fuck.” He looked at his brother, who looked equally worried.

“The damn witch sent us to the goddamn Vikings.”

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 Chapter 2

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[frejahertziswritingthistime]

By Dawn and Blood chapter 2

A/N: I’m really loving this story! It’s slowly becoming the type of story, I’ve always wanted to write – I love the myths and lore surrounding Vikings, and mixing it with SPN is just perfect! I hope you guys like it as well.

Remember, feedback feeds the writer!            

 MASTERLIST

BY DAWN AND BLOOD MASTERLIST

Buy me a coffee – help me pay for my wedding!

 Pairings: Viking!Reader x Dean

Warnings: Language

 Chapter 2: The new arrivals

You had listened to their story over and over, and nothing changed – they weren’t lying, but something so… Wild, could not be true. Hunting monsters, battling witches. The future – all of it seemed false, a rouse to make you trust them, but after Dean pulled out his weapons, you started to believe. You had never seen anything of that sorts before, and though it did not work, it terrified you greatly.

“I promise, we’re not lying. We’re not from here. Or this time, even.” The taller, Sam, told you urgently. “We need to go back. We don’t belong here, and we don’t know… I need to figure out how to get back.” Dean nodded but didn’t seem nearly as urgent at his brother. “Listen, can you just let us go? We’re not going to do anything.” You sighed. “it is not my place. My father handles these matters – prisoners, punishment. I am here on behalf of him, not by my own volition.” Sam sighed, and Dean scooted forwards, closer to you. “Wait, okay, you were worried we were… From some other place, right?” “Yes. Dalby.” You answered courtly. Your heart was pounding. You had never smelled anything like this man before; he smelled like… Wood. Battlefields. Spices, you had never smelled before. “Alright, okay, how about this? I’ve got a deal for you.” You cocked an eyebrow at him. “You do?” He nodded. “We’re fighters. We’re good fighters. If we… fight with you against the weirdo from Dalbin..” “Dalby.” You interrupted. “Whatever, if we fight for you, you let us go. We’ll get the man down, we go free, go back home and kill the fucking witch.” You sighed.

“I’ll take it up with my father. I cannot make promises, but I swear on Thor, I will try.” They sighed in relief and nodded. “Thank you.” You smiled and got up, grabbed your shield and left the room – the sun was setting slowly behind the hills and the Fjord, bating your home in a golden sheen. It was beautiful, and it reminded you of why you loved your home. The main hall towered over the cottages and the square, and you rushed down there, hoping and praying your father would agree to the plan. You wanted to get to know the men, and by gods, you wanted to see them fight.

“What did you learn, my dear daughter?” you sat down at the table and poured ale in your horn. “They claim to be from a different world. They carry a bag, a sort I’ve never seen, and weapons no one know of. I listened to their story, and in their home, they hunt monsters. Monsters, that sound like the gods have unleashed Hel upon them.” Your father frowned. “Do you believe their stories?” You shrugged. “I think they are telling the truth. Get a Völva down to them, if you are unsure.” He nodded and grabbed a chicken leg to gnaw on. “They had a proposition.” “Did they now?” you nodded and drained your horn. “They will fight for us in battle against Earl Dag, in return for their release after. Dalby is ready to attack, you know this as surly as we know we’re being watched by the gods. We need the warriors, as long as the raidcrew is still out.” You father nodded and turned to Frode, who had been following the conversation. “What say you, friend?” Frode swallowed the piece of chicken, he had been chewing on.

“We could need the warriors. They need training, and if they die, they die. We will fight no matter what, but we might lose, if we are outnumbered. Might as well accept their swords.” Youi father sighed. “Daughter.” You looked to him. “We need to find them a cottage, a sword and a swordmaster.” You nodded. “All swordmasters are on the raid.” He grunted and ran a hand through his hair. “Fine. You find them a cottage and bring them food, and in the morning, you and Arvid can teach them.” You nodded. “I will. I shall not disappoint, father.” He smiled softly. He might be a harsh man, and his reputation was one that sowed fear in his enemies’ hearts, but he was, deep down, a loving and caring man. “You have never disappointed me, Y/N.” you smiled and stood up, beckoning a servant to you. “Will you collect a basket of meats, mead, ale and bread?” she nodded and left for the kitchen.

You gathered a few pelts of fur, a few pairs of trousers and armor, before grabbing the basket the servant handed you and leaving the hall. The sun had truly set, and the darkness had enveloped the homestead – the square was still lit, and the sounds of joyous drinking reached you, as you walked to the prisoners. Arvid ran towards you, carrying two shields.

“So… We’re getting new warriors?” You shrugged. “Only if they can fight.” He grinned, and the scar running across his cheek stretched and warped his features. “Holmes cottage has been left vacant since he went to Valhalla. They can stay there.” You nodded. “I’ll leave the shields by the door.” He shouted as he ran down the hill towards the dark cabin close to the Fjords mouth.

As you stepped into the prisoner’s hut, they scrambled to get on their feet, and you, for the first time, saw how truly huge the men were. If they didn’t know how to handle a sword, they could be human walls in the frontline.

“We will accept your offer. I have a cottage for you, and you start training tomorrow. Follow me.” With arms still tied behind their back, they walked with you down the hill towards the cottage. “It’s a simple fishing hut, but it’ll be fine for now.” You said as you opened the door, and threw the pelts on the beds, and turned to face the men, who were looking around. “Turn.” You commanded as you pulled your dagger. They did but looked weary as the turned their backs to you. You cut the rope, holding their hands together.

“You need to change. I’ve laid out trousers and tunics, and an armor for each of you. Hopefully it’ll fit, or we need a seamstress.” They nodded. Sam was looking around, while Dean had his eyes on you. “We never heard your name.” you smiled and pointed to the table. They sat down, and you placed the basket in front of them – they hungrily grabbed bread and meat, devouring it as your warriors would have. “You already eat like us.” They mumbled something, but the food hid their words. “I’m Y/N Egildaughter.” Dean looked to you with a sly smile. “it’s a pretty name.” you snorted and moved your braid to your left side, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart. Dean pointed to your now exposed neck wit a chicken leg.

“Wat’s that?” you frowned, but remembered your tattoo. “it’s a tattoo. It’s… Tradition to get a tattoo after your first fight, raid or kill.” They both looked startled. “And yours is…?” You smiled and poured a mug of ale. “Raid and kill.” They nodded fearfully. “You are frightened of a woman, who has killed?” Dean smiled. “Nope.” You hummed.

“You might get new names. You sound… Foreign.” You said after a moments silence. “What?” Dean said. “You need to blend in. I cannot promise no harm will come to you, but you surely will avoid a great deal, if you change your names.” “To what?” You shrugged. “Daa. It means…” you searched for the word in their language. “Doing something grand.” You turned to Sam. “You might be Sage, wise and cunning.” They looked worried.

“I will leave you be. Light your fire and wrap the furs well. The nights turn cold.”

You left the cottage, but a shout stopped you short. Dean was running towards you.

“I just… Wanted to thank you. For trusting us, I mean. And the food.” You smiled and once again was overwhelmed with his scent. You could feel your blood pulsing faster and faster through your veins, as he stretched his hand to you. “You are welcome. The gods have taught us well.” He grabbed your hand, and it felt as if Thor had hammered his anvil and the sparks had hit you in the chest.

You were going to regret this.

Like this? Let me know!

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[frejahertziswritingthistime]

Driving home for christmas

Happy holidays, you guys!

I’m hoping you guys will like these few drabbles/one-shots, because it’s going to be full of absolute fluff, so much of it and it’ll definitely make your teeth rot. Also, fun fact, it’s really hard to type when you’ve gotten your nails done. So if tere’s any typos, blame it on my claws!

I hope you’ll love it!

MASTERLIST

Buy me a coffee (or help me get the Christmas-shopping done)

Pairings: Dean x reader

Warnings: language, fluff

Sam grunted loudly, when I sped up the car again, causing us both to jerk in our seats. He glared at me with a dissatisfied sound and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Dean, seriously, could we relax a bit here? You’ll get us killed.” I chuckled and sped up. “No can do, Sammy. I promised I’d be home by Christmas, so I’ll be damned if I’m not home by then.” Sam rolled his eyes and stared out of the window. Snow was falling, cascading down onto the windows and covering the world around us in a soft, white blanket. He couldn’t help but smile a little before talking again.

“Y’know, it’s… Good, to see you like this. I’m happy for you, man.” “Sap.” Sam chuckled. “Maybe. I’m not the one who’s driving at least 15 miles over the speedlimit.” I grinned at him, slowing baby a little. “Fair point. I just… You know, I don’t think I’m a sap, but she came along, and I think I’ve gone soft, Sammy.” Sam nodded absentmindedly. “You have gone soft. It’s not a bad thing. Less beers, more sleep.” I laughed. “If you think we’re sleeping, you’re dead wrong.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Need to know basis, dude. She’s like my sister.” I grinned at him, keeping my eyes on the road, that slowly turned white in front of us. The streetlamps gave the snow on the ground an eerie but comforting yellow light, and everything was so quiet. I jumped in my seat, when Sam started playing a song from his phone with a wide, shit-eating grin on his face. I rolled my eyes. “Seriously? Driving home for Christmas?” He shrugged and grinned even wider.

“It’s the truth, Dean.” I shook my head, but I appreciated it. We weren’t exactly close to home yet, and I had to be careful driving on the slippery roads – the song kinda reminded me of what was waiting. She was. Probably wearing the ugliest sweater, she could find. I smiled at the thought of seeing her again, my body suddenly warmer; I was turning into a grade A sap, and I didn’t mind it, which was the weirdest part of all of this.

Even after two years with her, she still made my stomach writhe; she was slowly Benjamin Buttoning me, I was turning into my high school self, the longer we went on. Sam cleared his throat and pulled me out of my thoughts.

“Dude, how are you still so head over heels?” I snorted. “Why wouldn’t I be? Have you seen her? Been around her? She’s my perfect little rock and roll princess, you know.” Sam gagged. “Disgusting.” I grinned. “You have no idea how nasty we can be.” Sam rolled his eyes again and checked the clock. “Thank god, we’ll be home soon. I don’t think I could take another hour of this!” “Pussy.”

I turned down the smaller road leading to the bunker, barely keeping the wheels on the ground – I was so close to home, I could barely breathe. She was in there, waiting for me, like a damn dream come true. I never thought I’d have tis, much less with someone like her. Our kind of apple pie life.

“Relax, we’ve only been gone for three days, Dean.” “Shut up, Sammy.”

The car almost drove itself home, and I parked and got out in one, swift move. “You’ll get the bags?” I shouted behind me, already moving to the door. “I guess I have to!” Sam yelled back – I could hear his smile, but I didn’t care. I was home.

The smell of gingerbread it me, as soon as I stepped inside, along with the faint smell of pine-sap – a faint sound of Christmas choirs reached my ears, and I almost jumped the stairs to get down. I practically ran to the library, where I stopped dead in my tracks.

There she was. In her pajamas, small cartoonish drawings of Santa, and wearing a pair of awful slippers, shaped like elf-hats. She was humming along to the choir in the background, while she delicately hung ornaments on a small Christmas tree, she somehow had managed to get down here. Her hair was in a messy bun, and on the table next to her, a tray of Christmas cookies was laid out, the scent of them wafting around. Decorations hung from the walls, the bookcases and the ceiling, making the bunker look like something out of a hallmark movie.

I smiled, watching her hang a small angel (in a barbie-sized trench coat) on a branch, before turning to the box of ornaments – she caught sight of me, and a dazzling smile grazed her perfect face; her cheeks were red, and her eyes hone like fairy lights.

“You’re home.” Her voice was like angels singing to me, and I broke into a smile, running to her and grabbing her, spinning her around. She laughed loudly before I let her stand again, but not letting go. Her eyes found mine, and I could feel it in my chest – I was never good with words, love or anything remotely close to those things, but at that moment, I felt like I was caught in a blizzard, while she was my guiding light to return home. She was frowning.

“You promised to not hurt your face.” Her thumb gently glided over the scrape on my cheek. I chuckled. “Sorry. The rest of me is fine, though.” She smiled, and I was once again reminded of everything, I’ve ever missed in life – she was the missing piece, and I had her, right here, in my arms and hell would have to freeze over before I let her go. Maybe not even there.

“It looks amazing in here. How the hell did you get a tree in here?” She grinned in her own mischievous way, where her eyes glinted a little and the right side of her mouth curled a little more than the left. I could look at her all day. “Cas helped me. So did Jack.” I smiled and looked at the tree – she turned in my arms to look at it too, still wrapped tightly in my arms. “I hate the slippers, by the way.” “Good. I bought another pair for you. And Sam. Jack and Cas are already wearing theirs.” She said with a small kiss on the back of my hand.

“Perfect.”

 Like this? Let me know!

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FOREVERLIST:

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[frejahertziswritingthistime]

Surprises

Happy 23rd, everyone!! I mean, for me, by the time I’m posting this, it will be – which means IT’S CRISTMAS TOMORROW! In Denmark, we celebrate it around the evening of the 24th, and this year I’m going to my in laws to celebrate.

Enough rambling, enjoy the fluffy, cristmassy goodness I’ve got lined up!

MASTERLIST

Buy me a coffee (or give me the sweetest Christmas present in the world)

Pairings: Sam x Reader

Warnings: FLUFF UP THE HOOHA, language, mentions of pregnancy

 You placed the hot plate on the small table next to the bed, and plugged it in, plopping down on the bed while waiting for it to heat up. You smiled softly, and rubbed your protruding belly gently, while looking around the bedroom.

You didn’t have much when it came to Christmas decorations, but it was just enough to completely transform the small bedroom to a Christmas cottage-look; fairy lights hung gently from the ceiling, bathing the room in a soft, yellow light, while you had managed to hang different ornaments from shelves, bookcases, dressers and so forth – you even managed a mistletoe on the headboard, which would definitely come to play later. Now all you had left was the hot cocoa with marshmallows, which was currently heating slowly on the hot plate, you dragged in there.

A soft knock sounded on the door, brining you back to reality.

“Come in.” Dean popped his head inside, a bright smile on his face and looked around.

“This looks amazing, Y/N.” He sat down on the bed and stirred the pot of cocoa. “Thanks, Dean. You’re only saying that, because you suck at decorating.” He scoffed. “I’ll have you know, that the fucking string with the fucking cranberries and all that, was the best ting n the tree. Just saying.” “Whatever keeps you going, big guy.” He ruffled your hair and grinned. “I’m still not going to know before him?” You raised your eyebrow. “I have no idea what you mean, Dean…” He rolled his eyes, and you laughed. “No, dude. I know, Sam will know soon, and then you – you gotta be patient.” Dean sighed and got up, slumping his shoulders. “Fiiiiiine, but I swear to god, if Cas knows before me, I’m going to flip my shit.” You giggled. “deal.” He grinned and winked, before opening the door. “Sam texted, he’s like 5 minutes away.” You saluted Dean as he left the room, and quickly grabbed the two mugs (ugly, Santa-shaped things, that you got on sale and loved very deeply), poured cocoa in them, plopped a few marshmallows in them and set them down, before reaching for the two small bags on the side of the bed.

A few seconds later, the door opened with Sam staring wide-eyed at the display in front of him. You grinned and got (albeit a little difficultly) up from the bed and hugged him.

“Welcome home, baby.” He grasped you tightly and swayed gently back and forth.

“I’m so happy to be home.” He inhaled deeply, and let you go. “You look more beautiful for each day, you know that?” you could feel your cheeks heat up. “Stop it, you’re only saying that because I’m pregnant and I feel like a whale, I’ve got reflux, swollen feet…” Sam cupped your face in his warm, rough hands and smiled. “I’m saying it, because I mean it. You look beautiful, and I know the glow is just sweat and all that crap, but you. Are. Beautiful.” You smiled softly and kissed him gently.

“Come get your hot cocoa. I even have presents.” He chuckled and shook his head, but sat down anyway, grabbing the green mug with the lopsided Santa, and slurped a little. You handed him the biggest bag with a wide grin, and sat down, crosslegged, next to him.

“Open it!” he rolled his eyes, but took the present out of the bag, and carefully unwrapped it. He glared at you, as he pulled the pajamas-set out from the wrapping paper. “You’re kidding. Matching pajamas? Really?” you grinned and nodded, pointing to your own – red with small elf-hats on, along with small Santas scattered around the flannel. “At least it’s flannel.” He said, smiling. You raised your eyebrow and handed him the smaller bag. He grabbed it and glared at you. “If this is fluffy socks with candy canes, I’m going to tickle you until you pee your pants.” You grinned. “You won’t know until you open it.” He rolled his eyes and carefully lifted the wrapped present, gently unfolding it until he could see what laid in it. He stared at it for a minute, speechless as he simply stared at it.  

“Y/N, are you serious?” You smiled and nodded, tears clouding your vision. He lifted the small onesie from the wrapping-paper, sniffling lightly. It was light pink, with the words daddy’s lil’ asskicker on the front – Sam was holding it so gently, as if he thought it would break.

“We’re having a girl?” You nodded, a few tears streaming down your face.

Sam grinned widely, and tackled you down on the bed, kissing every inch of bare skin he could find, tickling you in the process. You were laughing hard enough to miss the door opening, and Dean, Cas and Jack stepping in.

“HEY! We want to know too!” Dean yelled loudly enough for you and Sam to stop wrestling on the bed. Sam looked up to the three men, and smiled wider, than you had ever seen before.

“We’re having a girl!”

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[frejahertziswritingthistime]

Of Dawn and Blood chapter 3

A/N: I’m so glad, you guys like this as well – it’s been sort of a dream to write something with Vikings; it’s a part of my country and I love writing/reading about it. There’s going to be a lot of myth and lore intertwined with this story, so I hope you guys will stick with it! We’ll switch POV during the next chapter as well. I’ll be adding more old norse as well, so all translations will be in the end!

Remember feedback feeds the writer, and if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask!

Previous chapters: chapter 1    chapter 2 

MASTERLIST

BY DAWN AND BLOOD MASTERLIST

Buy me a coffee – help me pay for my wedding!

 Pairings: Viking!Reader x Dean

Warnings: Language, mentions of blood, description of fighting, sexual tension

  Chapter 3: the fight

He was staring again. It irked you, because you didn’t like to be watched, especially during fights.

You had, along with Arvid and Ubbe, been training the strangers for a few ours now; the sun was beaming down on you, sweat was dripping from every patch of exposed skin, and your arms were already tired. Luckily, it seemed as though the men were just as tired.

Dean could barely hold his sword and shield, while Sam kept losing balance and falling to his knees – Arvid lashed out wit his sword, and you held your arm out, forcing all the men to stop. Arvid glared at you angrily but put his sword down.

“Pray tell, why would you stop? They need the training.” Arvid hissed. He seemed truly to be hating these men. You sighed and turned to him. “Yes, they need the training, you stórlátr. But they also need their arms. We will take a break to replenish and continue when the sun is higher.” Arvid sighed but nodded and grabbed Ubbe – the two boys walked to the square, whispering angrily as they walked. You shook your head and sat down on the gravel next to Sam and Dean, who were gulping down water. Dean looked at you curiously.

“Is… The dude, you know, is he your husband or something?” you frowned. “Arvid?” he nodded. You laughed. “No. he has asked for my hand, but I have refused. My father thinks he would be a great husband, as would Ubbe, but they… Ah, never do mind. Sit and relax.”

Sam sat down and looked around. “For some reason, I imagined this place to be dirtier.” You rolled your eyes. “Why?” He blushed and didn’t look my in the eyes. “It’s just what we were taught back home.” You smiled at him, and caught Dean’s eyes; he winked at you, and an unfamiliar stirring in your stomach blossomed. You quickly looked away and out to the Fjord. “Back home. Your time. I suppose it’s…” you paused. Something felt wrong.

You looked to the hill, where the gaurdpost was, and saw Rolf running at a speed, only the Gods could have given him, and shouting loudly. “THEY’RE HERE. THE SCOUTS!” he didn’t get to say more or get closer, as an arrow penetrated him from the back, flying through his chest – he collapsed within seconds, and you jumped to your feet, shouting.

“WARRIORS!” men and women from the square and surrounding cottages came flooding to you, grabbing weapons and shields and standing behind you. You quickly turned to Sam and Dean, pointing to their swords and shields. “You’ll experience battle earlier than expected. Get behind me.” They obeyed.

All of the able warriors left in the homestead were ready; you stared to the hill and saw the dark cloud of an army rising slowly over the hill, their battle-cries sounding loudly.

“Shieldwall!” you shouted, and all shields came front, back and over you, covering all of the warriors to spare them being at the mercy of arrows – you could hear the soft whistling of arrows flying through the air, and the loud thunks it made, as they hit the shields.

“May the gods be with us. Archers, ready!” you felt, more than heard, the archers behind you get on the shoulders of your warriors and get their bows ready. “On my signal!” everyone was humming with the excitement of battle, creating an energy, you could feed off. You looked to your side, and saw Dean gripping his sword tightly – his lip had curled upwards, and his eyes were focused on the dark cloud of incoming enemies. “Archers, now!” the shield-wall opened, and the archers were lifted out, shouting as they shot their arrows; a few of the front from the enemy-line fell wit cries of pain, and you snarled; you could see their faces now. They were from Dalby.

“Svá atganga barsmid svá styrkr!” you yelled, and all of the shields came down; your warriors ran, screaming, towards the hill and the enemies. Dean and Sam stood next to you, unsure. “Fight.” Was all you said, before charging towards your enemies.

Blood flew around you; a spurt of warmth hit your face, and you grinned as you pulled your sword from the throat of an enemy and you slashed quickly to your left; blood was everywhere, battle cries and wounded cries sounded. The gravel under your feet had turned red, and you almost slipped in the sticky substance.

Your braid swung behind you, whipping blood onto your chest, as you hit another wit your shield and bent down to hit another enemy with your sword. You looked around and caught sight of Dean, who were attacking like a wild man; his eye were filled with fire, and his face and body covered in blood. A single arrow sat in his shoulder, but he paid it no mind – he was snarling and grinning as he attacked as many, as he could.

He was a berserker.

At the end, only one enemy stood alone, bloodied and bruised, among his fallen friends. His arm was bloodied, and it dripped to the ground – you slowly walked to him, a snarl etched on your lips, and you pointed your sword at him.

“Arvid. Take him to the prison hold.” Arvid grabbed him and dragged him off, while you turned to your own. “Everyone able, grab the wounded. Take them to the medics, and pray to the Gods, that all will survive. Pray to Frey, Odin, Thor and Baldur.” You looked around and saw Sam hunched over a body – a surge of fear ran through you, and you threw your shield and sword to the bloodied ground to run to him.

“Is he alive?” You asked, moving Sam’s hands away from his brother. He nodded courtly. You looked at Dean, who lay still and barely breathing on the ground – his eyes were open, and he smiled softly; it was almost a grimace. “Still good looking, I believe.” He said weakly. You huffed and looked at his injuries; the arrow in his shoulder still sat there, and he had a gash in his torso. “You’ll be fine, Dean málm-hridg.” He and Sam stared at you. “Every fighter will get a given name, after their first fight. You, Dean, will forever be known as málm-hridg, a storm of metal. You, Dean, fight like a berserker. No fear of meeting Hel, nor fear of wounds.” Dean grinned, and Sam looked to you. “Thank you.” You nodded. “Help me carry him. We need to get the arrow out and wrap his wounds.”

 The sun had set, and you were still wrapping Dean’s wounds. You had sent Sam out to find food for himself and get his own wounds wrapped – it had required greatly of him to leave his brother, but he understood.

You were bent over Dean’s naked torso, trying to contain your beating heart as you looked at it. “so… Am I going to get tatted?” you gasped at the sound of his voice. “I thought you were asleep.” He chuckled. “How could I sleep with you here?” you rolled your eyes and tightened the bandage a little tighter than necessary. “you seem like a skirtchaser.” He laughed and sat up slightly, groaning at the sensation. “And yes, if you desire one, you’ll get your tattoo.” He was closer than before now, and the air felt tighter than ever; your breath was hitched, like you were gasping for air under water. “why aren’t you married yet, Y/N?” he whispered. “I remember being told, that most Vikings got married young.” His fingers danced on the back of your hand. “I… Never found anyone. I haven’t been interested.” You whispered. His breath tickled your neck. “are you interested in anyone now?” his hand slowly glided to your arm, tracing your tattoo. “I… I might…” you turned your head towards him, and he was close enough to you, that your noses touched. "do you have anyone back home?" your voice was so soft, like the wind in the trees. He shook his head. "No one back home." he leaned in just an inch, and you could feel his breath on your lips. He was so close, but the magic was broken by the door flinging open and Sam stepping in. Dean fell back to the bed with a grunt.

“Fuck you, Sam.” You had moved quickly from the bed and stood with wide eyes looking at Sam. “I’ll return tomorrow.” You whispered, your cheeks burning. Sam looked confused at your abrupt exit but shrugged it off.

As you ran to your home, cheeks burning, all you could think was Dean.

You were truly and deeply in the pits.

 Translations: stórlátr: arrogant man Svá atganga barsmid svá styrkr: attack and fight with strength málm-hridg: Storm of metal  

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[redlipstickandthewinchesters]

Fix You

Summary: Reader is having a rough night and Dean comes to the rescue. 

Song: Fix You by Coldplay

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 823

Warnings: Trigger warning Depression, Angst, Dean fluff at the end

Sitting in your dark room, you stared at the ceiling with your music blasting through your earbuds. You should be sleeping, but right now your brain won’t let you. The pain coursed through you. You thought about everything, from your childhood all the way till now. The hunts that have gone wrong, the let downs, and the relationships you had and lost. Your heart was beating fast as the hot tears spilled down your face. You wanted it to go away so bad, but no matter how much whiskey you drank or how hard you tried to ignore it, the pain was still there. Letting each song pass by you could feel yourself becoming more and more numb to the pain.

Everything was blurry and your head hurt from how hard you had been crying. You wanted to give up and not get up in the morning. Just lay in bed and do nothing for once. There was always an ache when you went somewhere, like you didn’t belong. That’s what hurt you the most. Finally you stopped crying and you turned down your music, getting ready to try and fall asleep again. When you heard a soft knock at the door, you quickly wiped your eyes, getting yourself together for whoever was behind the door.

“Yeah,” you yelled softly.

Dean opened the door and you smiled softly, he always brought comfort to you when you were feeling low or just needed a shoulder to cry on. Dean took one look at you and knew what was going on and opened his arms to you.

“Come here,” he motioned for you to hug him.

You got out of bed and immediately went to him, feeling like you were home. You started to cry again and he just held you.

“Hey it’s okay, I got you,” he whispered.

He waited patiently for you to stop crying and ran his hand over your hair, clutching on to you like you were going to disappear.

“What’s going on sweetheart?”

You hesitated for a minute before you told him what you were feeling, feeling like what you were going through was so miniscule to what else is going on in the world. Then you looked up and met his eyes, noticing how concerned he looked.

“It’s nothing really,” you said not wanting to bother him.

Dean fought you, “(Y/N) come on, you can tell me. What is it sweetheart?”

You finally mustered up the courage to tell him what you needed to get off your chest.

“I’ve just been feeling so out of it lately. Like I don’t belong in this world, like it’s never going to end. Sometimes I just want it all to end, the pain and suffering.” You let out as your voice cracked.

“Darlin, I know what you’re going through. Sometimes I want the pain and suffering to end too but I keep fighting. I know you and I know you are a fighter and everything sometimes will hit you all at once but I know you have it in you. It’s not going to be like this forever.” He said still holding on to you.

“I know but I just feel hopeless you know? I just want to crawl into bed and give up. I just don’t want to feel like this anymore. I can’t do it.” you cried into his shirt.

Dean sighed and clutched you tighter into him, he felt useless to the hurt you were going through. But was determined to help fix it. He let go for just a minute and picked you up and led you to your bed and sat you down carefully, like you were fragile glass. He then climbed into bed with you and wrapped his arm around your waist. Turning your body to face him, you smiled at him. Mascara running down, he wiped the tears from your face.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Dean nodded and went to kiss you on the forehead but when he did you moved your face upward and your lips collided. You blushed at the accident and Dean laughed a little.

“Sorry,” he said.

You laughed a little, “Don’t be.”

“There’s my favorite smile,” he said quietly.

You leaned up and kissed Dean again and this time it was like a burst of fireworks that went off, he reciprocated the kiss immediately putting his hand on your face gently. Breaking away from the kiss you found Dean smiling.

“What?” you laughed.

Dean held his smile, “Nothing, I’m just glad you did that.”

You nudged him a little, “Me too, now let’s get some sleep.”

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and tangled your legs with his. Feeling safe and alright again, it took you only a few minutes before you fell asleep. Dean listened for your breathing to slow down and then kissed you on the forehead and then fell fast asleep, knowing his girl was okay again.

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