#I love her so much for IMMEDIATELY going after mare and shoving a white hot knife in that wound | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

colossal-fallout · 4 years

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Hello darlin, can I a request a nsfw poly Annie x Mikasa with a male bodied reader

Well howdy there, partner. Here, let this here waterin' hole quénch that thirst you have.

Tbh I got too carried away with the smut so don't expect it to be good 😂🤠

Three's a crowd

Warning: NSFW 18+ SMUT

Male!bodied reader X Annie X Mikasa

Threesome / Poly

Your poly relationship with Annie and Mikasa was, for the most part, great. All three of you loved each other equally. Respect was held in high regard amongst you but sometimes, Mikasa and Annie... well... They would clash.

It wasn't too often, but it did happen. So as you stand there with your arms folded in exasperation as those two hash it out, your mind just zones you out to a better place. A one where two competitive girlfriends would just relax a little. You knew they'd sort it. They always did. Hell you'd only come upstairs to grab your notes and you'd heard them yelling. Knowing better than to get involved you just awkwardly squeeze by them, your eyes scanning the surface of the drawers for your papers.

"Okay then. Y/N, what do you think?" Annie asks, her piercing blues lassoing you and pulling you right into the rodeo pen. This wasn't one Mare you fancied taming right now - you could see the thunderstorm brewing behind her orbs.

"To be honest, I have no idea what you're arguing about." You reply honestly.

"Is that so?" Annie frowns.

Mikasa cuts in; "We were discussing who would get to..." Her irritation is dampened by her timid side - her face begining to flush and her fingers fumbling with one another.

Annie rolls her eyes. "For gods sake. We were arguing about who gets to have you fill them up later."

Your body freezes.

Surely they wouldn't debate such a stupid top-

"Hey. We can sort this out." You grin eagerly, placing the papers back onto the wooden surface. "But ladies... You gotta make up."

You genuinely didn't like it when they fell out. But to your joy, Annie grabbed the shy Mikasa who was now even more flustered.

"You annoy the hell outta me." Annie mutters, her eye lids becoming heavier than usual. "But God do I love you..."

Their lips connect in a slow, yet deep embrace, your heart swelling that they'd made up.

Among other things swelling.

You watch them for a little while, the room filled with the gentle echos of their smacking lips and small exhales, their tongues slithering around the others, like two coiling snakes fighting to the death. As usual, Annie gets fired up pretty quickly, pushing Mikasa down gently onto your large bed that you all share.

"Annie..." Mikasa gasps as her blonde lover pins her by her wrists and her mouth hungrily devouring that sweet spot on her neck.

Mikasa's legs automatically wrap around Annie's waist, her arousal sending her body into autopilot, her hand sliding up her shirt and rolling her breast in her hand. Deep breaths errupted from Mikasa's flushed face, her innocent eyes blinking up at you.

You begin to remove your shirt with haste, Mikasa's mouth had barely uttered; "Please, come here..." when it was a crinckled mess on the floor.

Annie's peachy ass was up in the air as she was lowered over Mikasa - you decide that would be your first target. Rubbing nyour hands roughly over her perfect behind, you allow them to run up the sides of her stomach and around to her tits, your mouth trailing kisses down the back of her neck as she sits up to lean into your touch.

Mikasa watches your hands caress Annie under her shirt, your longing, desperate face now biting into the side of her neck.

Annie let's out a moan, her hands unzipping Mikasa's trousers and begin to slide them down her perfect pins.

Mikasa sits up, now in just her shirt and panties, the visible damp patch on her crotch already becoming larger as her tongue slides back into Annie's mouth, her delicate fingers pushing her shirt up and over her head, exposing your greedy hands that were pulling on her now errect nipples.

You can hardly contain yourself, your swelling cock already pushing the boundaries of your thread count, your hands gliding down Annie's stomach and pulling off her bottoms too.

Mikasa gasps as Annie's gorgeous form is stripped bare, your hands taking all innocence from her body - it belonged to you and Mikasa. You tug Annie's hair, pulling her head back as you slide your wet muscle down her throat, Mikasa's mouth latching onto her nipple and sucking.

"Huahh ~!" Annie's high pitched moan calls out as your finger begins to slide along her wet slit, Mikasa's teeth now nipping at her breast.

"Annie's been bad again..." Mikasa mutters between mouthfuls of her girlfriends flesh.

"Guess we gotta teach you both a lesson, huh?" You breathe, your finger circling Annie's clit from behind as your free hand splays across her throat.

"There's more than enough cum in me for both of you..." Your chest heaves as your heart pounds the much extra needed blood supply to your now solid cock, Annie's whimpers vibrating your hand as you give her neck a little squeeze.

You remove your wet finger from her soaking lips, repositioning yourself so you were in a better position to marvel at the view - Annie's face pink and her hair already a mess, her tits raising up and down with her heavy breaths.

The raven haired siren encases her lips around her lover's clit, a squeak of joy in response to her taste as she flickers her tongue against her nub, her ass in the air just begging for you to touch it.

You pull down her now soaked panties with anticipation - harshly shoving the tip of your tongue right inside her tight cunt.

"Ah~~!" She cries loudly into Annie's vertical mouth, her hair being tugged by Annie as she rocked her hips against her tongue.

You swivel your position, pulling Mikasa down onto your face as she continues to work on Annie.

"Mikasa... Fuck..." Annie hisses, her orbs eyeing the delicious buldge in your trousers eagerly as you drink deeply from Mikasa.

Your cock is becoming painful now, your hands removing themselves from Mikasa's ass and - without stopping your tongues movements, you unzip and free yourself, Annie gasping at the sight of your glory, her mouth salivating as her grip on Mikasa's gorgeous face tightens.

"Y/N... I'm going... Ah ~ " Mikasa's knees begin to tremble, her insides clenching and grasping for any part of you to hold onto - you feed her with two of your fingers, her tight internal ridges pulling you in happily.

Mikasa's face is cherry red as Annie removes herself from her mouth, watching her orgasm, her eyes closing and her mouth open wide as her high pitched squeals fill the air.

"Yes! Y/N!"

Her pussy massages your fingers, sucking them in as her golden wave crashes across her body, her cum dripping down past your fingers and into your waiting mouth.

Annie lovingly reaches down and cups her face, her mouth reconnecting to hers as she begins her recovery.

You sit up and watch them make out, your dick craving some sort of friction, and Mikasa's soaked cunt is still in the air, ripe for the taking.

"Ahh ~ !! " She cries loudly in ecstasy as you slide your fat head into her tight entrance.

"Good girl..." You grunt, watching them trying to kiss through Mikasa's hysterical songs of praise.

A string of saliva connects their lips together as Annie slowly pulls away, watching your struggle. Mikasa's constrictive core a challenge to stuff yourself inside of - but after a few pushes you reached your cosy destination, your entirety being pressed and released as you roll your hips, your fingers kneading into her tasty ass cheeks.

Annie gets up, Mikasa too far gone to be of any use with her mouth now, as it just hangs open, her eyes rolling and only your name now the only word she was capable of muttering.

"Y/n...y/n...y/n... Ah~ Ah ~ oohhhh ~~!"

Annie stands above Mikasa, a leg on each side of her bent over form as she runs her fingers through your hair, you gladly take her into your mouth.

You sit back on your feet, one hand on Mikasa's ass and guiding her up and down your shaft, the other on Annie's ass, pressing her cunt against your face with as much force as possible; making out sloppily with her nub of nerves.

The sounds of both of these gorgeous woman crying your name out in desperation was almost too much to bear - Annie's orgasm peaking as she tugs at your hair, taking out her joy.

"y/n, ah! Don't stop! Yes! Oh fuck!" She gasps in a high pitched tone.

"y/n... Y/n..." Mikasa is still squeaking weakly, her overstimulation now hurtling her into another climax.

"Shit!!" You hiss as her contractions get even more tight around you, her juices covering your groin and splashing up onto her ass, her vocals now too high pitched to be heard by humans.

You were nowhere near done.

Annie moves back a little, her knees weak from that mind blowing end.

You sit up slightly and thrust harder and faster into Mikasa, her over sensitive cunt not able to handle your girth as you stretch her and absolutely destroy her pretty little pussy.

"Pah... Oh... Y-y/n..." She begs and pleads in a language only known to the heavens as her entire body burns white hot, your hand reaching down and tugging on her nipples harshly, drool begining to pour out of her mouth as you re arrange her insides with your manhood.

Your balls slap against her pubic bone, her cunt squelching beautifully around you and the scent of her cum was breathtaking.

"ah~~~ pah, please... Hua~~"

Annie latches her mouth onto your neck and sucks, biting and licking, moving up to your mouth and tasting Mikasa off your tongue.

"She tastes so good..." She hums, glancing down as you push her into the bed with your deep thrusts.

You remove yourself half reluctantly, not taking your eyes off Annie as you pull her down by her nape, pushing her face towards Mikasa's now wider hole.

Annie immediately places her three fingers inside of her, trying to recreate the thickness of your cock, as her tongue slithers onto her clit, laying upside down underneath her.

Mikasa's face is streaming with pleasured tears, her body overloaded with beyond amazing sensations.

As Annie gladly overtakes Mikasa's body, you grab her legs and push them as high to her chest as they'd go before Mikasa's ass being in the way.

Your cock is soaked in Mikasa's sweet juices and you eagerly begin to insert yourself into Annie's just as tight slot, more than happy to stir their mixed pots with your cock.

Annie groans loudly, the vibration was all Mikasa needed to be hurled into another dimension, now squirting over Annie's face and down her chest. You watch her now soaked tits bounce as you thrust, your cock so close to reaching its overload.

You shuffle back and pull Annie out from under the ruined, shaking mess that was now Mikasa, your hands grabbing fistfuls of her hair as your back hunches over her, pushing yourself deeper and deeper into her deep, warm pocket.

"Y/n... Yes... Ah!" She cries out, your thumb rubbing her clit, her face and chest that was gleaming in Mikasa's cum bobbing violently with your harsh movements.

"I'm... Cumming..." She whispers, eyes crossing upwards and her nails digging into your skin.

Her back arches as she spasms around you, the red mist of crazed lust taking over her.

"y/n! Yes! Oh my god... Ah! This cock is the best...! Ah... Ahh...!"

You can't take it anymore.

With a small roar your hips stutter as your steaming hot cum begins to collide with her cervix.

You quickly pull out of her, your ropes pulsing up her already cum soaked chest and face as you lean over her and slide back into Mikasa, thrusting deeply.

"FUCK!" You curse, your orgasm still coming in huge waves, Mikasa's insides starving only for your cock as it weakly twitches to pull in your seed.

You pull out, splattering more mess on her beautiful ass, back down and into Annie your knees suddenly giving out. You're still cuming as Annie's tight pussy leaks with your now more watery junk, your vision fading as you slump down, finally begining to re enter reality.

After a few deep breaths, your eyes open to the view of both your girlfriend's covered in your mark, breathless and destroyed.

"Oh my god, y/n..." Mikasa whimpers. "That.. was...amazing..."

You nod in agreement, even though she can't see you. You didn't quite have the energy for words right now. But you weren't surprised. Your sex life with these two was always absolutely mind blowing.

Annie sits up, kissing your arm and instantly becoming needy.

"I guess you do have enough for us both..." She chuckles lightly - still out of it. "I guess we'll have to shower together now."

Mikasa finally springs to life, rolling onto her back, both you and Annie leaning down and kissing her affectionately.

"You did amazing." You praise. " Both of you."

#snk imagines #snk season 4 #snk smut #annie snk #mikasa snk #mikasa aot #mikasa x y/n #mikasa smut #mikasa x reader #snk mikasa #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x annie #annie x mikasa #annie x reader #annie leonhart #attack on titan annie #snk annie #mikasa x you

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eeveedel · 3 years

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WIP Sunday

Hello all, I was tagged by to post a bit of my current WIP alongside some “art” -- I don’t have a current moodboard but I thought I would provide some general ~~aesthetic pics and another preview of the rancher harry fic -- this time an HL meet cute! I hope you all enjoy, and happy Sunday

Harry heard a rapping at the screen door, and he grunted, shifting his weight forward so he could sit up and hoist himself out of his armchair.

He took a step forward on his good leg while his bad one dragged behind him. After a bit of walking around, it usually woke up enough for him to put more weight on it, but for now, after his rest, it was a dead weight of pins and needles behind him. It took a bit of effort to get to the front door, but he got there eventually. He grabbed his cane that was leaning by the door, and then opened the wood door, revealing just the screen and what lay beyond it.

There was a man in mint green scrubs and a thick corduroy jacket on his porch, perfectly centered between the big American flag hanging beside Harry’s door and the pots of tulips lining the front gate. The man at the front door was young. He had some creases around his eyes and mouth but his freshly shaved face looked so youthful, along with his bright eyes behind his big, wire frame glasses.

“Howdy,” Harry drawled, lifting his thermos to his mouth, “You must be — “ His tongue worked in his mouth, trying to come up with the name Margaret had given him last week. It wasn’t something common around here, and yet it still evaded him.

“Shoot, I’m sorry,” he sighed, pushing up the brim of his hat with his thumb, “Help me out, what’s your name, son?”

“Oh, I’m Dr. Tomlinson, but you can call me Louis,” he said. “Dr. Baldwin caught me up on some of the animals you have here and their needs, sir,” he said. “I know you have a pregnant cow nearing the end of term and a newly pregnant mare that just needs a bit of a checkup as your main concerns. She also told me you had a few roosters and a chicken coop, is that correct?”

Harry cracked a smile and nodded.

“Well, that’s correct. Seems like you did your homework,” he said. “Cherry’s gonna have a baby now damn day now and I just found out about Goldie last month.”

He took a sip of his coffee, shuffling his feet and readjusting his cane as he did.

“You don’t need to worry too much about the chickens, they nearly take care of themselves. Got a few pigs but those are going to market in a couple months, but you can take a look at ‘em if you want to.”

He pushed at the screen door, moving out onto the porch to meet Louis directly. When he was in front of the man, he could see Louis looked even younger up close, and he was nearly a full head shorter than Harry.

“Can I get you something to drink or anything before we go out?” Harry asked, taking the briefest moment to look the young vet over.

“Um, maybe a glass of water after we finish up? It is a bit hot out today, even though it’s January,” Louis rambled. “I mean, I came from San Francisco, so it’s still hot there— anyways, sorry.”

He exhaled, his cheeks already pink.

“Could you show me to Cherry first, please?” Louis asked. “I want to make sure she and her calf are in tip top shape.”

Harry smiled gently. The young vet was eager, and looked a bit flustered. He tried not to let his gaze linger too much longer, although he already liked him.

“Sure thing. I’ll show you out the pasture. Cherry’s probably out gossiping with her friends.”

He walked to the edge of the porch, taking the small ramp that was easier to navigate with his cane.

“Tell me, they have a lot of cows out in California, Louis?” he asked as they trudged along the path, “Because if this is your first one, I’ll give you a fair warning. Cherry’s a sweet girl but a little sassy.”

“Well, I grew up in San Francisco, so no, we don’t have a lot of farms there,” Louis said. “But I studied with a bit of everything in veterinary school, and went to a lot of farms up north. So yeah, I’ve worked with cows.”

“Good, good,” Harry nodded.

He walked through along the dirt path that led from the house to the rest of the ranch. He led Louis past the chicken coop and the large horse barn, moving out to the back part of the property with the cattle barn and the large pasture. His leg was starting to wake up, making his gait a bit less strained.

“Where did you study?” he asked.

“UC Santa Barbara for undergrad and then vet school at UC Berkeley,” Louis said. “I just graduated last spring, actually.”

“Congratulations,” Harry said. “Before you look at my girls, you wanna tell me know if you were bottom of your class?”

Louis laughed a little, scratching the back of his neck.

“I was actually valedictorian.”

“Damn. Undergrad or vet school?”

“Uh,” Louis said, smiling sheepishly. “Both? And high school.”

“Jeez,” Harry chuckled. “Well. I didn’t even go to college, so you’ve already impressed me many times over.”

They arrived in front of the enormous cattle barn and the wide pasture beyond it. Harry smiled to himself, lifting the hand that wasn’t gripping his cane.

“Yep,” he smiled to himself, “There she is.”

He gestured to the pasture, and specifically pointed to one of the cows, a rich red brown and swollen at the belly, who was smack in the middle of a group of five other black and white cows.

“Gossiping, just like I thought,” Harry said. He reached for the gate, going to unlock it, “Well, come on, you can give me your expert opinion.”

“Wow, she’s beautiful,” Louis marveled.

“Don’t let her hear that, it’ll go straight to her head,” Harry said. He opened the gate fully, then opened the pasture and turned around, holding it open for Louis.

Once they were both inside, Harry approached Cherry, cooing and clicking his tongue as he walked. She looked up and stared at him, chewing slowly on a thick clump of grass, but when she was done, she let out a low moo and slowly but surely waddled towards him.

“Here she comes,” Harry smiled.

They both stood and watched her as she slowly came over, and when she did, she immediately gravitated to Harry.

“Hey, princess,” Harry said. He set his hand on her head and gently stroked her with his thumb, smiling to himself as she blinked at him with her big, milk chocolate eyes.

“Louis’s gonna take a look at you, pretty girl,” Harry said. “You be nice to him.”

Harry kept petting Cherry’s head and then looked over to Louis. The vet was kneeling on the ground, unlocking the briefcase he had brought. It was funny, seeing him with a shiny, clearly barely used case. Margaret had always just shoved her tools into her ancient Jansport backpack, which was covered in twenty years’ worth of coffee stains and held together with duct tape and spite.

Louis took out a pair of latex gloves and a stethoscope, then moved closer to the animal. He gave her a settle pat on her swollen side, then put the stethoscope’s earpieces in. He set the metal diaphragm on her side, and Cherry jolted a bit, but Louis cooed at her and kept petting her side as he listened. He closed his eyes and nodded a bit as he moved the cold metal over her stomach, humming softly to himself.

Harry watched Louis carefully touch and examine Cherry, the young man’s hands gentle but sure as he did his job. Harry had had his hesitations before Louis arrived. But he seemed at home, and like he really cared about doing a good job. Harry could appreciate that. He had spent years building up trust with Margaret to work with his animals, but, maybe he was just getting sentimental at his age, or Louis really did have a special touch, but he immediately felt just fine with the younger man taking care of his herd.

After a few minutes Louis opened his eyes and ducked his head down, examining Cherry’s udders and nether regions. Finally, he lifted his head and pulled himself up, taking the stethoscope out of his ears and draping it around his neck.

“Well, she looks great,” Louis said as he peeled off his gloves and shoved them into his jacket pocket. “The calf’s got a nice, strong heartbeat. She seems about a couple weeks away, but just keep an eye on her – “

“Early labor, yeah,” Harry said. “I always start preparing at least a couple weeks in advance of the due date, anyways. My girl Caroline went into labor a couple years ago, fuckin’ 16 days before she was due, and I was in Austin for the weekend. Only time I left the house in months, and she picked that weekend.”

One of the white cows in the pasture mooed loudly, and Harry looked over his shoulder and glared.

“Yeah, I’m talkin’ about you, fuckin’ drama queen,” he scoffed. “She’s a good girl. And a tough one. Had a delivery all by herself and nearly gave me a heart attack when I got home and there was a new baby toddling around.”

He turned back to Louis, offering an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, don’t mean to bore you with farm stories right off the bat.”

“It’s okay,” Louis said. “I love to hear animal stories.”

“Well, let me know in a few months if you’re sick of cow stories. That’s nearly the only kind of stories we have in this town.”

Louis just laughed and lifted his hand, shifting his glasses up his nose.

“Would you show me to Goldie, please? Just to see how her early stages are going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Harry said. “Goldie’s in the small barn, come on.”

#rancher harry #uwu

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 6 years

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The Pact - Chapter 2

Sam Winchester, Gothic AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

A/N: This idea was a long time coming. My first true AU, so please be gentle. This will be a slow burn, multi-chapter fic. A HUGE thank you to one of my besties @kazosa for continuing to remind me of this idea we had been planning for a long time now and for suggesting I finally start it. Hope you enjoy!!

Summary: Lord Samuel Winchester has lost the love of his life due to the actions of the Demon King, Crowley. As he plots secret revenge, his father, the King of Lawrence, decrees that Sam will wed Crowley’s daughter in order to unite the two families to protect the sacred ground the Winchester’s Kingdom is built upon.

Eventual Pairing: Sam Winchester x Crowley’s Daughter!Reader

Other Players: John Winchester, Crowley, Rowena, Dean Winchester (mentioned), Bobby Singer, Jessica Moore (deceased)

Warnings: mild language

Words: 6.3K

Everything Tags:

@sorenmarie87 // @lefthologramdeer // @rockyhorrorpictureshowstyle // @his-paradox // @letsby

Supernatural Tags:

@wings-of-a-raven // @kazosa // @negans-wife // @grace-for-sale // @geeksareunique // @tiquismiquis // @mrsbarnes-rogers // @teller258316 // @spnhollis // @sweet-things-4-life // @hobby27 // @sweetlythoughtfulbird // @theoriginalvicki // @dreamchester67 // @xxwarhawk // @babykalika2001 // @superwhovianfangirl81 // @toobusynerdfighting // @missihart23 // @crowleysreigningqueenofhell // @idreamofplaid // @thewinchesterchronicles // @wayward-gypsy // @closetspngirl // @fatestemptress // @rebelminxy // @22sarah08 // @witch-of-letters // @cole-winchester // @rainflowermoon // @adoptdontshoppets // @foreverwayward // @waywardvalkyrie // @fandomoniumflurry // @gnrfanfic // @blackcherrywhiskey // @jessieray98 // @lyoly // @a--1--1--3 // @31shadesofbrown // @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare

(I don’t normally tag series, but since this is an AU, I will tag specifically for this one if you don’t want to be on my SPN list. Let me know if you want to hop on any of my tag lists.)

The Pact Tags: @theplaid-wearingmoose // @zombiewerewolfqueen // @silkiechicken // @collette04

The morning of the ceremony, Sam made his way through the maze of tunnels that lead to Singer’s Apothecary. At the end of the corridor stood the oversized wooden monstrosity that led to the lair’s entrance. Using the key given to him by Singer, he made quick work of the lock and let himself in.

Passing through the frigid stoned clad archway, Sam sighed with relief when he came through the other side and felt the warm breath of heat from the fire that was always burning beneath the cauldron. The invisible barrier kept unwanted and unworthy souls out, but the cost of walking through it left a chill in Sam’s spine for days after. Bobby said it worked better than the warding that was used along the Kingdom’s borders. “It’s just a smart play,” he’d said when Sam questioned why he’d set the barrier in the first place, “considering most of the stuff in here could wipe out all of Lawrence in one fell swoop.”

Bobby had always been a friend to Sam, even when John warned him against it. Robert Singer, Maester of the Winchester House, came from a long line of men who both understood battle and books. He was well versed in spell work, warding, potions and history of creatures, both common and mysterious. He acted as a counselor to John when the King wasn’t sure how to attack a certain enemy; he’d turn to Bobby, his trusted friend, and most sought-after advisor. Even when they didn’t agree, John would at least hear him out. So, Sam knew that if he needed a way to influence his father, Bobby would be the place to start.

Sam stepped into the room and let his eyes wander slowly around. The floor-to-ceiling walls of books loomed high above him. Dual spiral staircases rose up towards the cathedral ceilings, to a narrow metal catwalk that stretched out along the perimeter. Vines and greeneries were hanging or draped from the rails, some of them blooming with an array of speckled flowers.

No sign of the old man.

“Bobby?” Sam called out and took a few steps closer to the fireplace. No response. Sam waited for another beat, then called out for him again. “Bobby, you here?”

“Down here, boy!”

Sam followed the direction of Bobby’s voice through one of the heavy black draperies that separated the rooms and down into the root cellar where he was stocking jars of lamb’s blood.

Taking his time on the stairs, he ducked down into the small space. “How do you work down here,” he asked, finally just taking a seat on the cold stones.

“Well, I ain’t ten feet tall like some people,” he snorted and placed the last jar. “What can I do for you, Sam?”

“Tonight… you’re going?”

Bobby nodded then started shaking his head. “What the hell is your father thinking?” he mumbled, knowing that Sam wouldn’t fight him on it. “If you’re here to ask me to muck it up somehow…” Bobby inhaled sharply and passed Sam an admonishing look, “it’s not a good idea, son.”

“No, that’s not why I’m here. I’m resigned to it, Bobby. I am marrying her, and that’s it.”

Bobby gave him a challenging look. “And I’m supposed to just believe that?”

“It’s the truth,” Sam shrugged. “I’m tired of fighting him on everything. If it makes him happy and helps the family and the Kingdom…” Sam trailed off and gave Bobby, his most sincere smile as he repeated the mantra he and Dean had been programmed to live by. “For the Protection of Lands and Family. Saving people and killing things, the family business. Right?”

“Mhm,” Bobby mumbled and offered Sam a hand to stand up. “Come on, you can help me sort the herbs upstairs while you tell me what it is you can here for.”

Once they were back in the Apothecary’s main quarters, Sam took a seat at Bobby’s workbench and began to separate the lavender from the meadowsweet. Bobby worked on the greeneries and kept passing curious glances at Sam from the corner of his eye.

“Well, spill it, boy. You don’t just come and do grunt work with me for shits and giggles. You got somethin’ on your mind. So, speak.”

Sam snorted, the corner of his mouth turned up. “I never mind grunt worth, if I’m in here with you. But you’re right. I do need something. I want to find the Oracle. I know she’s been in town. Last I was down in the taverns, one of the men there talked of visiting her. I want to see her, Bobby.”

“To what end?” he asked, not taking his eyes from his work.

“I want to know how this all plays out. The marriage, the partnership. This tentative peace that lives between us and Crowley.”

It was Bobby’s turn to scoff. “If you think its that easy, you got another thing comin’.”

“What do you mean? She’s an oracle, isn’t she? She can see the future. Isn’t that what oracles, do?”

“Yeah, in theory. Doesn’t mean she can read your future.”

“Why not?” Sam asked, mildly incensed. “What’s wrong with my future?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, ya jackass. I just meant that, you're enchanted. You have been since you were a boy. Why do you think you just broke that hip instead of being killed?”

Sam sat up straighter at the mention of his accident. He hated talking about it… thinking about it. The way the sword pierced him through the back causing him to fall. The horse running across the battlefield, crushing his hip and shattering it to pieces. He was lucky to be alive, much less be able to walk at all.

Dean had carried him all the way to Singer’s Apothecary from the field where he assumed his brother had died. He appeared lifeless, his skin cool to the touch, his heartbeat so faint, it might as well have been non-existent. Dean demanded Bobby fix him… save him. But the old Maester said it was too late, the boy had died from the stab wound.

Minutes later, Sam gasped for air and immediately wailed in pain. The crushed bones in his hip causing a streak of discomfort like he never had before. The burning hot wound from the knife closing completely on its own. The youngest Winchester Prince sat up, eyeing his brother, fear rampant in his eyes.

“Dean… how?”

“I don’t know,” he said as he threw his arms around his brother’s neck, his hands balling into fists and beating against his back in triumph. “I thought we lost you, Sammy.”

Bobby’s voice snapped Sam back to the present, back to the favor.

“Did you hear me?”

“No, I drifted.”

“Hmm. I said the Oracle won’t be able to read you, ya idjit. Whatever your mother cast over you as a baby, it's impenetrable. No spells, potions or lore I’ve ever read can break what she did.”

Sam sighed. “I at least want to try.”

“It's your gold, son. I’ll take you to her, but there’s no time—”

“Make time, Bobby. I need to do this before the ceremony tonight.”

Bobby eyed him with frustration. “You and your father… so damn demanding,” he mumbled and pulled his cloak down from its hook. “Get your stuff, let’s go before your father realizes your gone.”

The Oracle’s hovel was well off the beaten path that led from the Kingdom of Lawrence and into the dense forest that sat between the city and the portal entrance to the battlefields of Purgatory. She lived simply, but she accepted only gold as payment. Samuel’s coffer was full to the brim with as much gold as he could shove in there, unsure of what it would take to get her to read him truly. He didn’t really believe Bobby’s claim and needed to see for himself.

Bobby pulled the reigns of his horse, asking the beast to stop by the walkway that led to her small cabin that was built into the side of the hill. The ornate wagon Sam drove with his two best steeds came to a stop behind Bobby’s mare.

“Come on,” Bobby urged, looking up into the sky. “Day’s light is fading and its at least an hour ride back. If we’re late…”

“We won’t be. We’ll be there.”

They approached the door, and as Bobby raised his fist to knock, it opened before he could. A woman with long, dark hair stood in the entry, her eyes were as white as snow and the smile she wore was as bright as the sun.

“Robert… my old friend,” she beamed and moved to hug him without hesitation. Sam watched them with a small, satisfied smile. It was odd for him to see Bobby in anyone’s company or affections, except John’s.

“Pamela,” Bobby nearly sang. “Lovely as ever. I brought—”

“The Prince, yes, I know,” she released Bobby’s greeting and turned her haunting eyes towards Sam.

“Samuel Winchester, the enchanted boy prince. I was wondering when you would come to see me.”

Sam’s expression faltered as he looked between her and Bobby. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to read me at all,” he said, leaving out Bobby’s role in the seed of doubt.

“Let’s see what we see, shall we?” she urged with the same, bright grin. “Come,” she took his hand and led him inside towards the center of the room. She motioned towards the round wooden table, covered in a plum-colored velvet cloth. “Come sit at the table and let’s see what the spirits have to offer for you, Samuel.”

On the cloth was a gold leaf triad knot, at each point was a high back wooden chair for them to take place in. Their hands clasped together around the table, eyes closed, breath steady. Pamela mumbled a variety of words in the old Enochian. Some Sam could recall from his old lessons, others sounded foreign to his ears. As she pressed on, the air in the room became cold and heavy at the same time. It made Sam feel as if there was something in there looming over them.

There was a lengthy pause, and just as Sam begun to wonder if it was going to work at all, Pamela began to speak.

“You’re in deep despair,” she whispered, her ghostly eyes wide and raised up to the ceiling. “You mourn her, still. Though her spirit has crossed the veil, you cannot let her go. Need for vengeance drives you to make rash choices. But… they are meant to be made.”

The table began to vibrate, and a breeze cascaded through the room, causing the candles to flicker chaotically. Pamela continued with more Enochian as if she was holding a conversation with the unseen visitor, and then translating it to you.

“You hold jealousy in your heart. Wishing to trade places with your brother. To be gone, in battle. You must realize though, that isn’t your place. Your place is here. With her.”

“Her?” Sam rasped in question. “Her, who?”

“The twin to your soul. The one who holds your future. She’s yet to show herself, but behind the feathers, the dark, iridescent feathers, lies the match to your unburnt flame. She’ll be of great comfort to you when your grief folds you over and renders you useless.”

“That makes no sense to me,” he muttered in reply, looking to Bobby who sat and watched quietly, giving him no type of reaction at all.

“There’s something dark, something laying in wait for… you, your family. A cloud, as black as a reaper’s suit. It waits. When you recognize it, don’t hesitate. Act and you’ll be protected, no matter what you think may happen.”

The Oracle made no sense. Sam couldn’t imagine anything she was saying to apply to him. There were no other women in the world for him. Ever. Regardless of the arrangement of his marriage. That woman wouldn’t be long for this world, that he could be sure of. Whatever darkness she spoke of, everyone knew of the past feud with Crowley, even the traveling Oracle must have heard the tales, so she could easily feed him a warning and apply it to Crowley.

As for Crowley’s daughter, she would be a sacrifice. An eye for an eye. The Oracle never saw that, nor any of his other plans he was hopeful she would have touched on. He was beginning to think that Bobby had been right all along and that Pamela was just saying anything to make him feel fulfilled with going to see her.

Pamela’s hands started to shake and as she quickly spoke in Enochian the entire atmosphere of the room changed, the heaviness was gone, and the warmth reclaimed the small space. She released both of their hands, then brought her nonexistent gaze back to Sam’s face.

“That was it?” he asked suspiciously, “Nothing else at all?”

Pamela just shook her head. “I know you don’t understand your message, yet. But I promise you, dear boy, you will.”

He considered straight out asking about the marriage, and if his plans for Crowley’s daughter would elicit the outcome he wanted, but he stopped himself. Revealing his plans to Bobby would just be stupid. The old Maester would surely try and stop him. Besides, he wanted the truth from the oracle. If he outright asked her, she could just give him the answer she thought he wanted.

Instead, Sam smiled and took her hand in both of his. “I sure hope so, madame. Here, a gift for your time.”

He reached into his coat pocket and placed the coffer of coins into her palm. When the weight of the bag sat heavy in her hand, she gasped slightly in surprise. “No, this is far too much, Lord Samuel. I know you aren’t pleased with what came through, and even if you were, this is just taking advantage.”

“No, take it,” he said and closed her fingers around the bag. “Use it to spread good cheer or help a neighbor if you can’t use it yourself. I just appreciate your time.”

“Well, thank you, M’Lord. I will put these coins to good use. Next time though, its’ on me. No matter what you think now, I have a feeling you’ll be back.” She smirked knowingly and gave him a lingering wink.

After a brief goodbye, Sam and Bobby were back on the road towards Lawrence. They rode in silence for a while until Bobby couldn’t take the quiet any longer.

“Well, feel better?”

“No,” Sam said, “I think maybe, you were right. She couldn’t read me.”

“Then what she was saying, you don’t believe her?”

“No,” he said again, “None of what she said rang true, nor did it feel genuine. I’m not calling her out as a fraud. But…” he trailed off and shrugged, causing Bobby’s expression to fall and replace it with disgust.

“Boy, don’t. That woman is the real deal. No tricks. No hoodoo. She’s a seer, through and through. If she couldn’t read you, or if what she read was false, its simply because of—”

“Whatever mother did.”

“Yes. So, can we move on now, please? Get back, get you cleaned up and get you married before your father realizes you’re not there?”

Sam nodded without saying anything more, clicked his tongue with the reigns to speed the horses up and get home to meet his new bride.

It was the first time ever in your memory that you had been allowed to leave Crowley’s compound and the castle walls that had encased you for nearly your entire life. This day, you could pack your most favorite belongings and leave the grounds for good. You would never have to spend another night locked away in some old, musty turret, dreaming of escape. Though marrying a Winchester was not something you were happy about it, if it meant earning a one-way ticket out, you would promise to be his wife.

The caravan that was carrying you to your new life was moving slowly towards the other end of the realm where the Winchester Castle stood in all its ornate glory. Never having seen it with your own eyes, or any of the realms, really, you had to rely on the stories and descriptions from others. Even the man you were intended to marry, Samuel, you knew nothing about him except what you heard in whispers among Crowley’s people.

To your side, Rowena had her nose buried deep in an oversized book that was nearly as old as she was. Crowley refused to accompany you to the Winchester’s castle, instead of sending Rowena in his place. She complained, of course, but in the end, she relented and went willingly.

You watched her read the book and wondered if she knew the man you’d been betrothed too. Had she been to the Winchester castle? Had she ever met the King? So many questions ran through your mind as to what Rowena could answer for you now that you were out of Crowley’s reach.

“Rowena, do you know him?”

“Who’s that, dear?” she asked, not taking her eyes from the page.

“Samuel.”

“Aye,” she replied, drawing out the word slowly.

Rowena felt your eyes on her but did her best to concentrate on the book in her hand. It wasn’t just any book, and it had been her prize for escorting you to your new home and staying with you until the ceremony was done. She hoped you wouldn’t be peppering her with questions, but once you started, it was hard to stop.

“What’s he like? Is he deformed like some say? Hobbled?”

She sighed deeply and closed the Book of the Damned. “Well, yes, but not as bad as some would like to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“From what I understand, he was wounded in the early days of the war in Purgatory. Some said that his brother carried his lifeless body all the way home from the battlegrounds. Yet, when they got there, the young prince had found life again. It’s not impossible I suppose, I’ve certainly seen my share of men rise from the dead. Either that or the brother is a nit wit and can’t find a heartbeat properly,” she rolled her eyes and waved him off. “He healed, but he walks with a cane and couldn’t return to battle.”

You just grunted in understanding. “Is he kind or is he more like father? Purposely withholding and cruel, and unable to love anything.”

“Your father loves you, dear. He’s just… preoccupied. As for Samuel, I’ve only ever met him once, and from what I could see, I don’ think you’ll have much trouble with him.”

Casting your eyes out of the carriage window, you watched the countryside pass by as the horses slowly made their way towards the Lawrence River. It was the first time you could recall seeing it up close. The sound of the rushing water was soothing to your ears and for the first time, you wondered if you would miss the sound of the waves against the cliffs that would echo through your chambers throughout the night.

So many nights it had helped lull you to sleep, especially when thoughts of things that plagued you invaded your dreams. That led to another question popping in your head. Something you had wanted to ask Rowena for years, but for fear of suffering Crowley’s wraith, you abstained. But now, his influence was far away, and there was no one to stop you from asking.

“Will you tell me about my mother? Now that we’re gone from his walls? He never tells me anything about her.”

Rowena glanced at you, her eyes filled with warning. “You’re just full of questions, aren’t you, poppet? That is not a place you want to go to. Let that sleeping dog lie.”

“But why? She’s my mother, why can’t I know about her? He tells me that I’m so much like them both, but I see nothing of myself in him. He’s cruel, and power hungry. All he cares about are his demons and his Kingdom. Being ‘the Red King’ has gone to his head, made him even more foul and loathsome than before.”

“Easy, child. He may be a right and proper cunt, but he’s still my son. An I won’ have ya speaking of him that way. Fergus is who he is, partially because I was an awful mum to him. Yet, look at what he’s built. If you don’ think that the Winchesters feel the say way about their father, you’re sadly mistaken. No child loves their parent truly, not if that child wants to grow up with power and purpose.”

“I’m not a child,” you mumbled and closed your eyes in disgust at what you heard pour from her lips. Deciding that was enough questions, you turned back to watch the scenery pass by. Rowena opened her book again, thinking the conversation was done, but the way your conversation ended sat heavily on her mind.

“Then stop acting like one,” she retorted and took her hand into hers. “You have every right to ask about your mother. But, its just not something that needs to be discussed now. Know that she loved you and she didn’ want to leave, but she had to. One day, I’ll tell you more, but for now, you just remember that she loved you and only wanted the best things for you.”

You exhaled deeply and when you looked back out of the window again, you could see the tall peaks and turrets of the castle in the distance. The closer you got, the more of the slate gray stones of the towers could be seen coming up through the dense forest that surrounded it. It was exciting and yet, terrifying, to think of being anywhere but your father’s compound. Up until this point, it almost felt surreal. Yet, here you were staring down the place that would become your new home. IF the Winchesters were true to their word and let you live, that is.

There was still some doubt as to the validity of Crowley’s claim to your safety and it had weighed heavily on your mind for the past two days. The deal itself felt sudden and strange, and you couldn’t help but feel like there was something more to it. An undercurrent of treachery so great, that it had the potential to cause irreparable damage to many lives. The Winchesters, after all, were your father’s greatest enemy for many years and the only ones who had ever proved to be so troublesome.

You weren’t going to leave the compound for the Winchester’s and not be prepared to defend yourself. Yet, straight up slaughtering your husband-to-be would most certainly lead to your death as well. There had to be a better plan…

The night before leaving home, you snuck down into the chambers Rowena kept for her visits. There, you paged through the stacks of books until you found the spell you wanted; a simple love spell. “Better safe than sorry,” you had told yourself as you waited for the clear liquid to cool. Once it did, it flashed a bright, blood red and then faded back to its transparent state. Two drops of that in Lord Winchester’s drink would guarantee him to fall head over heels in love with you.

“And unable to slice your throat from ear to ear,” you mused silently, as the castle continued to grow as the carriage closed the distance. It was self-defense if needed, or even an escape plan once you were sure no one was watching. Either way, the potion was hidden away between the swell of your breasts, ready to be used in an instant if need be.

The stone cobbled guard tower came into view, surrounded by at least four of the Winchester Guard. Your heart began to pound just as Rowena gave your hand a squeeze.

“Here we go girly, keep your wits and remember where you come from,” she said then plastered on her best fake, yet charming smile.

Once the carriage was granted passage, you and Rowena were escorted towards the castle’s entrance. When the carriage door opened, one of the Winchester Guards was there to help you carefully down and bowed slightly once your feet were firmly on the gravel.

Looking around, you were already in awe of your surroundings. The stark contrast of where you had lived to this new place was almost shocking. In place of the putrid and dank forest that caged Crowley’s compound, there were trees and greeneries that were dotted with an abundance of colorful, fragrant flowers. The breeze smelled of orchids and fruit instead of sulfur and death. The sun was bright and warm, and the clouds floated by like wispy remnants of cotton candy, instead of the thunderous threatening ones that plagued the sky and loomed over the MacLeod homestead.

This place was alive with beauty and hope, and suddenly you could see why Crowley wanted it so desperately. You’d only been there for a handful of minutes and you already never wanted to leave.

“Come, (Y/N), they want to escort you to your chambers,” Rowena beckoned. When you didn’t immediately comply, she grabbed your hand and yanked you forward. “Will you please act like you’ve been around people before?” she chastised under her breath.

Giving her a dangerous scowl, she recoiled sharply but not enough for the others to notice.

“Remember who helped you get here, dear,” she mumbled before linking her elbow through yours and moving you up the stairs and into the grand entrance of the Winchester’s Castle.

The guards led you through the winding passageways and up to one of the turret rooms. It was sparse in furniture and décor, but you didn’t care. It was the view from the window that captured your attention. From its height, you could see a remarkable amount of Lawrence, including the river and far off foothills that led straight back to the cliffs you used to call home.

“Never again,” you thought and absently touched your cleavage, thinking of the love potion hidden there.

“His Majesty would like you to remain here until the time of the ceremony. Should you require anything, a chambermaid will be up soon to see to your needs,” the guard proclaimed flatly before bowing his head and taking his leave.

“Alright, let’s get you ready for this,” Rowena said and opened the trunk you’d brought with you. She pulled the dress from it and wrinkled her nose. “This is what you’re wearing?” She held the pale-pink colored frock as if it were garbage out in front of her. “Come now, this is so… not you.”

“Father chose it. Said he wanted me to appear chased and innocent,” you mused, clasping your hands behind your back and slowly walking around it.

“Well, your father isn’t here, is he? No way I will let any grandchild of mine put such a wretched color on her body. Surely, I understand why he wants you to appear that way… no man wants a woman for a wife that isn’t pure, but you are a MacLeod for cryin’ out loud. You should be dressed as one!”

“Take it up with Father,” you replied nonchalantly, secretly loving Rowena’s disgust of the dress he chose and laughing to yourself that Crowley assumed you were so chased. It occurred to you then that maybe he didn’t know all that you had been up to while living under his roof. Just because you had been a virtual prisoner in your father’s home, didn’t mean that you didn’t explore your sexuality and feelings of need over the years.

“He won’t even be here until the damned ceremony, the little twat. Suppose in that time I could find you something more appropriate.” Grabbing her wrap from the end of the small bed, she draped it over herself and cocked the corner of her mouth into a pursed grin. “I’ll be back with something more fitting for you. Until I get back, rest dear, you’re going to need it.”

Once she was gone, you slipped the small vile of the potion from between your breasts and held it up to the light. Would it be enough to save you? Would it even work on the hobbled Lord of the manner? Sighing deeply, you returned it to its hiding place and paced the room before closing the trunk and sitting on top of it. Beside you on the bed, one of Rowena’s bags was half open, and out of it stuck the corner of the Book of the Damned. Knowing she would be gone a while, you dared to peek inside. As you paged through the ancient text, a new idea began to form in your mind and a devilish grin right along with it. The magic that the book contained was far too powerful for you, but there were a few spells that you may be able to manage and would certainly help if you found yourself backed into a corner.

Without hesitation, you jumped up from the trunk and opened it again, rifling through it to find your own parchment and quill. Quickly copying down the spells you thought may come in handy, you felt your spirits rise even more than they had when you first laid eyes on the castle.

The dungeons were dark and dimly lit, but Samuel could find his way there blind if he had too. The echo of his hard heels and cane against the stone floor rattled against the walls as he rounded the corner and entered the small room where the ceremony was to take place.

He’d heard the girl had arrived earlier in the day, while he was off with Bobby at the seer’s hut, but he had no desire to see her. Instead, he quietly retired to his own chambers and spent the rest of the afternoon mulling over the things the seer foretold. Mingled with that, were his plans for (Y/N) MacLeod. He tried to think of her only as Crowley’s daughter, hoping it would make ending her life a bit easier. But it did not. Despite his desperate need to enact vengeance for Jessica, a sliver of doubt had begun to seep into his veins. This girl was innocent, wasn’t she? She couldn’t help being a spawn of that creature, just like he couldn’t help being born a Winchester. It had just been their respective crosses to bear. Should she suffer for her father’s crimes? Could he live with himself to take the life of a woman, even if she was a witch in training, that bore the name of his enemy?

These questions and concerns plagued him for most of the afternoon, and even now as he made his way into the chambers where the ceremony would be held, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was going about this plot of revenge all wrong.

Footsteps from behind caught his attention, as his father appeared from the curve of the staircase.

“Samuel,” he greeted, a satisfied smirk buried on his lips. “Glad to see you here, promptly, and even dressed as the Lord of Winchester Castle should be.” John plucked at one of the pointed corners of Sam’s black coat and brushed the wrinkle from the front of the black silk vest worn beneath it.

“Stop it,” Sam mumbled and turned from John, so he wasn’t within is reach any longer.

“Have you seen her yet?” John asked, unphased by his son’s show of rejection.

“No.”

“I’m surprised. I’d thought you would want to taste the milk before you bought the cow,” John scoffed, clearly proud of his joke at the expense of his future daughter-in-law.

Sam just rolled his eyes and limped about the room, gripping the pommel of his cane and preying it would absorb the growing rage he felt towards his father.

“Nervous, son?”

Turning sharply on his heel, Sam glared daggers at his father. “No. Please stop acting like you care how I feel about this.”

“But I do care. This… this is bigger than you, Sammy—”

“You don’t call me that,” he growled and turned away again.

Shuffling towards the table that held a decanter of wine and goblets, Sam poured himself a cup full and drank it in one gulp, relishing in the sting of it as it cascaded down his throat. He was about to pour another when approaching voices from the corridor stopped him.

Bobby entered, followed by a petite woman in a blood red dress that bore a high lace neck and flowing lace skirt. Her shock of red hair and bright red lipstick almost made her hard to look at, yet there was something quite beautiful about her. Sam wondered for a moment if this was the woman that he was supposed to wed. She looked to be around the same age as his nemesis, but witches… they could mask their true ages now, couldn’t they?

“Rowena MacLeod,” John said, half a smile forced on his face. “Lovely to see you again.” He bowed his head slightly and turned to Sam. “This is Crowley’s mother, Rowena. Rowena, my son, Lord Samuel.”

Sam took her hand gingerly and bowed his torso slightly as he shook it. The movement sent a bolt of pain down from his hip to his feet, but his face would never tell the others how badly he wanted to cry out. In turn, she offered a polite smile and curtsy before stepping back, leaving a great distance between herself and the rest of the Winchesters.

Bobby took his place at the forefront of the chamber where there were two small cast iron containers of wildflowers. Candles flickered around the windowless room. As Maester Singer cleared his throat, John and Samuel took their place on one side of him, as Rowena took the other.

“No Crowley?” Sam asked casually, though inside he was deeply disappointed. He had so badly wanted to look the man who murdered the love of his life in the eye.

“He should be here,” Rowena said, trying not to sound annoyed. “He said he’d arrive—”

“And so I have,” Crowley smirked, appearing in the doorway, red smoke dissipating in the air around him. “You know how I like to make an entrance.”

The room fell awkwardly silent as Crowley sauntered into the room, his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his black suit pants. His dark eyes pounced from person to person, until they landed on Sam. That’s when he grinned. It was smarmy, a knowing type of grin and Sam resisted every urge to lunge at the man, tearing him limb from limb.

“Samuel,” Crowley cooed, approaching the boy and secretly wishing for him to act on whatever was hiding behind his blazing glare. “I hope you accept my sympathies. This can’t be easy for you. Marrying a woman that wasn’t… what was her name again?”

Sam towered over him silently, but inside, he was seething with rage.

“Enough, Crowley,” John warned, his head ticked to the side with frustration. “Can we just move this along, please? Then you and I have some things to discuss up in my chambers.”

“Right,” Crowley said, turning on his heel. “We most certainly do. Alright, let’s go. Where’s the girl?” he asked Rowena absently as he took his place beside her.

“She’s right outside, I’ll get her.”

Rowena scurried from the room, while the men stood in tense silence for what felt like an eternity. Finally, the echo of two sets of footsteps on the stone grew closer. Sam felt his mouth go dry and his chest tighten at what he was about to do. Marrying her was going to be the hard part. Speaking promises of love, caring and adoration for a woman he never met, who’s family he loathed with every bit of his being, would take every bit of strength he was able to muster up.

There was no music, no standing ovation from a crowd of weepy onlookers as there would have been, had Sam married Jessica as intended. A blanket of silence buried the room as (Y/N) walked in linked on Rowena’s arm. She looked to Crowley to come take his place to escort the bride to Sam, but he pretended not to notice.

Sam drew in a deep breath and finally had the courage to look at the woman approaching him. His heart began to pound the moment his eyes landed on her face. The dryness of his mouth extended to his throat, and he found it hard to swallow as he took her in, head to toe.

Her features didn’t resemble Crowley at all, she was nothing like him in the slightest. (Y/N) was beautiful, but Sam didn’t think that was the right word to describe what he was seeing. She was an ethereal being somehow manifesting in his presence. He felt his chest tighten, his hands grow sweaty and nervous. His tongue darted quickly over his lips, desperately giving them moisture that had seemed to leave his body.

Then, he saw what she was wearing, a black, strapless floor-length gown that was covered in tiny, reflective gems that made her simmer as if she were a dark angel straight from one of his childhood dreams. Quick flashes of lustrous blues and purples radiated from the wrap she wore over her shoulders, catching his eyes. When (Y/N) finally met him at the top of the aisle, he saw that the shawl was made from a flock of feathers… dark, iridescent feathers.

“Lord Samuel Winchester, Lady (Y/N) MacLeod, are you ready to be wed?” Bobby asked, holding his hands out, palms up, waiting for them both to accept. He watched as they both slowly nodded, barely holding the other’s gaze. “Great. Let’s begin, shall we?”

#sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader insert #sam winchester AU #Sam winchester fanfics #SPN AU Series #SPN AU

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